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dirtyvulture · 1 month ago
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BBB
Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader*
18+ only read at your own risk
Word count: 3248
Requested by anon: Hi i love your work..you don't have to do this request if you don't want.. i was kind of was wondering since we haven't heard from Sergeant Nat and reader. If we could hear from them? I was thinking since Nat is always the confident reassured one in that universe like maybe something happens where shes not sure where she stand with reader? Like jealous or maybe reader lets one of her military friends borrow her laptop and they use it to watch porn...and nat finds it and thinks its reader. And nat kind of loses her mind in a way that we havent seen. (Not like crazy but for the first time shes like am i enough). And reader is high key oblivious bc she worships nat. Some communication to sort out and then smutty times. Only if you want. If not i look forward to whatever you post yay. 
AN: *Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.
Thanks for the idea, anon! This was a lot of fun to write. :)
This is Part 5 in my Sergeant Beef series. Read the first one here.
“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Sam asks, poking his head into your room. 
“Why?” You don’t even look at him, focused on you video game on the tiny television mounted to your wall.
“I dropped mine in the lake, so I had to buy a new one but it won’t get shipped off until later this week,” Sam explains. 
“Okay,” you say, hardly listening to him as you race your little car across the screen to bump the giant soccer ball towards the goal. “It’s in my room on the–”
“I know where it is. Thanks.” Sam whisks in and helps himself. 
“Close the door on your way out!” you call, just in time to hear the door slam behind him. Turning your whole focus back to your game, your fingers mash the buttons to a triumphant win.
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A few days later, Natasha is over at your apartment. While the two of you had discussed a thousand times moving in together, you had always stalled or walked around the subject. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was because you were nervous what the public’s perception would be of your relationship, or if you preferred your own private space too much to give it up. Ever since the deployment, you had been more likely to retreat and hide away (even from Natasha) when you were upset or moody. She wondered if it was a side effect of your PTSD, but you never seemed ready for that conversation so she left it alone.
For dinner, you grilled some steaks (setting off the smoke detector in your apartment) while Natasha made a side of mashed potatoes and green beans. Afterwards, you went to take a shower while Natashas lounged around and found a movie on Netflix for the two of you to watch. She sits on the couch, opening your laptop and finding the web browser. She looks up Netflix and then browses through the recommendations on your home page, but none of them pique her interest.
She goes onto Google to search what other people are recommending and wades through a sea of titles and descriptions to find one. Swapping back and forth between tabs, she finds a website with a host of titles and flips back and forth until she finds a movie that is both on the list and currently on Netflix. But in the process, she loses track of the tab and accidentally closes it, silently cursing to herself, before going to check the history to find it again.
But what she finds in the history is not what she had been looking for.
Natasha feels almost scandalized when she sees the words “big busty blondes” in your search history, followed by a list of pornsites. While she knew you watched such videos in her absence, she didn’t know what genre you were into, and now a deep sinking feeling of insecurity fills her. She was not blonde, nor was she particularly busty after the years of hard workouts had shrank some of her assets a little. You always told her she had the perfect body, but now she wasn’t quite sure if she should believe you.
“Nat? Did you pick a movie?” You poke your head out of the bathroom. You’re not wearing a shirt and your wet hair is dripping water down your chest, emphasizing the lines of your muscles. Natasha can see the bullet scar on your ribs from the deployment that almost ended your life. But you walked away with every member of your team alive, and your tale of bravery had become something of a living legend in the community. 
She knows you could have any woman you wanted. She had seen the way the recruits eyed you and how bold the other brass were with you. Before your promotion to sergeant, you were often overlooked and completely ignored. Natasha, perhaps a little selfishly, always considered herself the catch in your relationship: she was one of a handful of female sergeants with outstanding credentials, and looked great in and out of a uniform. But maybe she thought too highly of herself. You had developed into a very competent sergeant, were extremely good-looking, and had the most lovable personality anyone could ask for.
What if you didn’t want her anymore? What if you wanted someone younger, or someone you could start a family with? Natasha hadn’t yet disclosed to you her inability to have children, but if the subject ever came up, she knew you’d need no other excuse to walk away.
“Nat? Did you pick out a movie?” you ask again.
“Yes,” Natasha says. “We can watch Trolls.”
“Okay. That sounds fun.”  
You come out in a sweatshirt with matching gray sweatpants and join Natasha on the couch. Instinctively, you put your arm around her shoulder and she snuggles against you, letting you rest your head against hers.
You seem to enjoy the goofy children’s movie, laughing out loud at the jokes and cheering when the main characters hug by the end. But Natasha can’t focus for a second, still thinking about the search history on your laptop. She didn’t even know if it was something she should bring up, but it was already eating her alive to think that she wasn’t good enough for you.
Natasha didn’t know if she would be able to survive without you. She would have to do everything she could to keep you by her side.
***********************************************************************
“Give me a sec,” Natasha calls, hurriedly slipping her boots on. She checks herself in the mirror one final time before opening her apartment door to see you.
“Hi, Nat–oh.” Your expression goes flat.
“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks, her stomach twisting in knots. Maybe this had been a bad idea.
“You dyed your hair,” you say, blinking at the short blonde hair she was now sporting.
“You don’t like it?” she asks, her worry growing by the second. She had dropped a significant sum at the salon on base to cut and dye her hair. Perhaps this had been a severe overreaction on her part. 
“Oh. No, um, it looks very nice,” you stutter. 
Natasha is not convinced in the slightest. Her face flushes red and she bites her lip to stop herself from crying in frustration. “That’s okay,” she mutters more to herself than you. “Where are we going again?” she asks, even though she knows every detail of the outing she had planned with you.
“The gym first, then we can get lunch and go grab groceries,” you list off, seemingly oblivious to her awkwardness. 
“Yes, that’s right. Okay, let’s go,” she replies sullenly.
***********************************************************************
Natasha isn’t sure what else she can do to hold your attention after the hair dying incident. She tries to be extra doting with you, but all of her efforts seem to go completely unnoticed. You only say “thank you” once when she gets you your favorite chocolate bar from the commissary. The next time the two of you are in bed together, Natasha feels like she has to guide you through all the motions and you fuck her with a concerningly low level of enthusiasm. Natasha is convinced you’ve found someone else and just the thought of losing you makes her sick. 
She’s nearly sent over the edge when she finally gets a text from you:
From Y/N: Can you come over tonight? I want to talk
Natasha feels like the rug has been pulled out from under her feet. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and her stomach starts to hurt like she had a bad meal. What if she just didn’t go to see you? Would you really still break up with her over text?
Her body seems to have a mind of her own as she responds:
To Y/N: Ok
***********************************************************************
“Thanks for coming over,” you say, welcoming Natasha into your apartment. She steps in guardedly, wondering if you’re hiding your new girlfriend under the couch. Or maybe she’s already in your bed. She shuffles down the hallway to subtly peer into your bedroom, which is empty.
“What did you want to talk about?” Natasha isn’t one to dance around the elephant in the room. Besides, she doesn’t want to draw this out any longer than it needs to be.
“Oh. Um…” You sound caught off guard. “Well, I was thinking that–”
“You want to break up with me.” Natasha can’t stop the tears forming in her eyes. She wipes them away, angry at herself for showing such weakness already.
“What? What makes you think that?” Your shock is so genuine, Natasha almost wants to believe you.
Natasha hides her face behind her hand. “I saw it on your laptop last week. The kind of porn you were watching–”
“Porn? I use incognito,” you say. “Unless that doesn’t actually hide things…” you add in a mumble.
“Your search history said you looked up…” Natasha takes a breath. “‘Big busty blondes,’” she repeats, hating the way the words sound off her tongue.
“What?” You sound confused now. “That’s…I don’t watch that kind of stuff. Wait, is that why you dyed your hair blonde?”
“No,” Natasha lies. “But I saw it on your laptop!” she insists, hastily changing the subject.
You pause for a moment, then start shaking your head with a chuckle. “I’m gonna rip him a new one,” you mutter. Then louder, you explain, “Sam borrowed my laptop last week because his was broken. I’m guessing he used it to…you know…” Your expression turns into one of disgust, and Natasha matches it. 
“Oh. So, you’re not into big busty blondes?” Natasha is embarrassingly desperate for clarification.
“No, I’m not.” You take a step towards her and hold out your hands. “But I do have a thing for hot redheads who could totally kick my butt.”
“I know,” Natasha says, taking your hands and leaning up to kiss you. Her lips lift into a smile when you return her kiss with more passion than you had all week, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her flush against you. You dig your fingers into her thighs, lightly rolling your hips, and when she feels your hard bulge against her stomach and all of her doubts are cast away immediately. Her face burns in shame when she realizes how quickly she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. You weren’t going anywhere. You were totally in love with her and wanted no one else.
“Wait, so what did you want to talk about?” Natasha asks, trying to ignore the arousal building in her core as you hump her.
“Oh! Um…” Your face reddens, as if you’re so turned on yourself you forgot why you asked her to come. “Uh…I wanted to ask if…you would like to move in with me? Or if I could move into your apartment? Or we could find a new place together…”
Natasha feels like she’s gotten whiplash from the subject change. She had come here thinking you were breaking up with her, but instead you actually wanted to move in with her? Just when she had thought it was never going to happen.
“Why the change?” she asks.
You shrug your massive shoulders. “We spend so much time together as it is. And I was mostly nervous because you know I have those night terrors a lot, but…” You sigh. “I realized I get them a lot less when I wake up next to you.” Natasha wants to melt in your arms. “And it would be really nice if I got to wake up next to you every day. And eat every meal with you. And–”
Natasha cuts you off with a hard kiss. “Yes,” she pants, groping for the tie on your sweatpants and pulling them down. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”
“Nat,” you whine when she grabs your cock. She feels it throb in her hand and her arousal spikes. As high as her own sex drive was, there was little else that turned Natasha on more than to see how excited you were for her. She pushes you towards the bedroom and you understand without needing words, obediently sitting down on your bed and pulling you on top of her. You grunt when her weight lands on your thighs and Natasha immediately props herself on her knees; sometimes she forgets about the injury on your right thigh that still causes you pain sometimes.       
“Sorry baby,” she whispers while leaning in to kiss your cheek. It had been a long and sometimes frustrating journey to get back to the same level of intimacy the two of you shared after the deployment ambush and your recovery. The medicines you were on had drastically affected your mood (and performance) and there were still some positions you could no longer do because of the strain it put on your body. But Natasha had been patient and gentle with you, even when all she wanted to do was fuck you senseless. Over time your strength and stamina had come back, and Natasha was thrilled you could still please her in bed. 
She leans back and takes her shirt off while you mirror her. You’re almost back to your weight as before the deployment, but the physical therapy has encouraged you to work out even harder, so you are more muscular and toned than before. Natasha eyes your body hungrily, her hand reaching out to trace the scar on your ribs. While she hates the memory attached to your scar, she can appreciate how much more badass it makes you look.
“Nat,” you say, and she breaks out of her thoughts. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” She pushes you to lie on your back, rolling her clothed lower body against yours. “Everything is very okay.” Her hands skate across your warm skin, squeezing your biceps before resting on your chest, balancing herself as she rocks back and forth. Even though you’re still wearing boxers, Natasha can feel the hardness of your dick pressing against her butt.
“All ready for me?” she hums, digging her nails lightly into your chest.
“Always,” you respond, rolling your hips to match her rhythm. 
“Hmm.” Natasha contemplates how she wants you today. You almost never call the shots in bed, but you have no problem with Natasha taking control most of the time. She likes how submissive you are to her and your willingness to please her even at your own expense. But she isn’t feeling selfish today and wants you to relax and enjoy too. 
Her body seems to have a mind of its own as she humps along your abs, eventually pushing her panties to the side so you can feel her heat on your stomach. 
“Nat,” you whine, gripping onto her waist to guide her movements. 
“Just let me ride you,” she says, lifting off of you for a moment to remove her panties completely, and the two of you moan when she settles back on you. You flex your abs until Natasha swears she could grate cheese on them. She angles her hips back and widens her legs so she can drag her pussy along the ridges of your abs, smearing her wetness everywhere. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” she moans.
“So do you,” you say, your hands tightening around her waist. 
Natasha moves her hips faster, sliding back until she can feel your cock practically poking a hole through your boxers. She’s just warming herself (and you) up and doesn’t want to rush to the main event. But as she hears your whines and feels the tension in your body, all she wants is for you to flip her over and fuck her until she can’t walk.  
“Can you do exactly what I ask you to?” Natasha pants, the building arousal in her stomach almost painful now.
“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Sergeant. Whatever you want.”
The use of Natasha’s title makes her pussy clench around nothing. Her body aches for you and she’s done playing around.
“Good. I want you to get on your knees and fuck me,” she demands, abruptly climbing off of you and presenting her backside to you. You scramble to obey, wasting no time lining up your cock with her soaking pussy and pushing in eagerly. Natasha inhales sharply when your length stretches her out, filling her perfectly and reaching places she could never reach with her hand or a toy. When you start moving your hips, she whimpers and moans, gripping handfuls of the bedsheets so you don’t slam her into the headboard.
She spasms around you with every stroke, clenching tightly and trying to draw you in as deep as you can go. Natasha loves to hear you moan, knowing she was the cause of them, and more of her slick leaks out around your cock. 
“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, your thighs slapping against her butt with every thrust. “You always feel amazing.”
“Harder,” she begs. “I want you to cum when I do.”
“I’ll try,” you respond, your breathing ragged as you start to falter in your rhythm. 
“Fuck, you’re in me so deep,” Natasha moans, wishing that despite your already above-average size, you had more to give her. She lets go of the bedsheets and slips her hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit for added stimulation. “Don’t you dare stop,” she warns, noticing the way your legs are shaking and your thrusts are losing their power.
“I won’t,” you whimper, and Natasha is not convinced you’ll be able to last much longer. Her hand glides back up to her stomach, where she can feel the bulge of your cock through her skin. That alone nearly sends her over the edge, but she has one more request from you.
“Bite me,” Natasha pants, motioning to her right trapezius muscle. Normally, she is very against you marking her during sex because she doesn’t want to worry about hiding them, but now she is panting at the thought of you finally staking your claim on her.
“Bite you?” you say, sounding extremely timid.
“Yes!” she growls, not wanting to repeat herself. “If you don’t bite me, I won’t let you cum.”
You moan and tighten your grip on her waist. Natasha feels your cock throbbing inside her, but she knows you won’t finish without her permission. The bed creaks as your weight shifts and she feels your chest press against her back as you lean over her. She hums in anticipation, feeling your breath across the back of her shoulder. Your teeth graze her skin lightly, your hesitancy obvious. 
“Y/N,” she moans, pushing back into you and squeezing your length. “If you don’t fucking bite me–”
Your teeth suddenly clamp down sharply and Natasha keens, gushing around you and not even noticing you finish inside her. White spots of pure pleasure burst behind her eyelids and she feels cum drip down her thighs. It feels like she’s riding out the high forever, but when she finally unwinds, she feels your weight pressing into her back and a dull stinging in her shoulder. She twists her head to see the clear imprint of your teeth in her skin, the flesh reddening already.
“Sorry if that was too hard,” you say softly, as if you’re embarrassed by following her instructions.
“Nonsense,” she says, reaching behind her to cup the back of your neck. She pulls your head down against hers and nuzzles against your cheek. “Next time, you can bite me harder.”
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AN: Sorry to Sam lol
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stellewriites · 2 months ago
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very much inspired by a post i’ll link at the bottom to avoid spoilers
i love putting john price in situations
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simon had known price for over a decade, had served under him as his lieutenant for a good portion of it, so he was pretty confident in answering yes when asked if he thought he knew the captain well.
he could acknowledge he wasn’t as close as say laswell may have been, but he knew that price’s wife was not common knowledge around the base either.
he’d pieced it together over the years on missions; catching the odd comment shared over coms; the glint of a ring around his neck; the odd teased mention of her when they sat in the rec room after barely scraping through a tough spot, when price needed the company as well as the silence ghost offered before returning to the real world.
it was how simon knew the sergeants were staying when price let slip about her one day. because he doesn’t let anything slip, wouldn’t, especially about her.
“got anyone at home waiting for you, sir?” gaz asked as he sighed impatiently over the coms, hour three of silently waiting and watching had finally gotten to him.
“i do,” price said simply, not offering any further information. ghost could imagine the amusement tugging at his daft facial hair as price refused to continue without prompting and simon smiled under his mask when he heard johnny scoff next to him before chiming in.
“c’mon sir, give us a wee bit more’n that,” he weedled. “when’d ya meet? is she nice?”
john hummed, the sound low and crackly over the radio in their ears. “met when i moved.”
“oh, a real meet-cute type thing, eh?” gaz teased.
john ignored him. “wouldn’t say she’s nice, soap. she’s more than that. ‘nice’ is your aunt’s new wallpaper; you have permission to shoot me point blank if i start calling her nice.”
“what is she then?” ghost piped up. this was the chattiest john had ever been on the subject and he was going to take advantage.
john went silent for long enough that the three men thought that was it, the end to their sharing session and knowing more about their captain outside of work. simon chewed the inside of his cheek.
“she’s devoted,” john whispered finally before his voice firmed. “heads up, team, movement 2 o’clock. anyone got eyes on the target?”
it was months later when she was brought up again, the team thinking. nothing of it until price’s phone pinged in his pocket enough times to pique johnny’s interest as they prepped to leave.
“that the wife, sir?” he asked.
john huffed, didn’t bother checking his phone as he turned and shook his head. “she’s clingy, but she doesn’t bother me when i’m at work.”
“how’d you know?” gaz asked. “could be an emergency.”
“‘n’ how’d you get her to agree tae tha’?” soap followed up quickly, having had issues with his own flings petering out when he was distant and slow to reply.
“been with her long enough now it’s routine,” john said simply. he checked his weapons before heading for the exit. “helo in 5, be air ready.”
the mission had gone to shit, and they were stuck hidden in a building that looked like it was 10 seconds away from collapsing under a brisk wind when ghost finally felt his patience snap.
it was no one’s fault, but being stuck in another country with no back up and a target on their backs for an extra three weeks wasn’t ideal and johnny’s insistence on playing cards at every opportunity to keep his idle hands and mind busy combined with gaz’s tinny whistling had made for the perfect scenario to grate on simon’s patience quicker than anything else ever had.
“tell us about her. ya wife,” simon asked, his gaze slipping across to john, watching him pick at his nails. his cuticles were red and raw from four days of agitated fidgeting since they’d ran out of cigars and cigarettes. every so often simon caught him pat his empty pocket before he’d remember and huff heavily through his nose like a bull.
john closed his eyes at the mention of his wife and sighed. he started his description without protest or hesitance. “shes soft spoken. christ, you’d hardly know she was there half the time, she’s so quiet. but she’s firm. stands her ground no matter what,” he chuckled. “don’t think i’ve ever won an argument against her.”
kyle laughed and ghost closed his own eyes, trying to picture what he thought the captain’s wife might look like. pretty certainly, but was she tall, plump, did she have an endearing gap between her front teeth, did she keep her hair short or long?
“she’s a bit of a homebody,” john admitted bashfully, unaware of simon’s drifting thoughts. “but i can’t say i mind it.”
“not wanting to leave the bedroom much when yer back?” johnny joked, hissing when ghost punched his thigh.
john just smiled placidly, eyes still closed. his eyebrows pulled down as he gushed, “god she’s gorgeous in red. wears it every time i come home.”
“lucky bastard,” gaz huffed.
“yeah.” john nodded and finally opened his eyes. “yeah, lucky.”
“you’ll be back with her soon, cap,” gaz reassured him when he saw price swallow thickly.
“thanks, gaz. now who’s taking first watch tonight? soap?”
john was quiet on the plane ride home, not unusually so, but ghost noticed the difference all the same.
he was pensive perhaps, worried what his wife would say when he finally got home a month later than scheduled, uncontactable the entire time. ghost could understand to a certain degree that john would have more important things on his mind than what his three subordinates were going to do as soon as they stepped foot on home soil, so he didn’t push when john ignored the few threads of conversation thrown his way by their younger sergeants. instead he nodded when john said a quick goodbye as they all parted ways in the airport.
simon could only assume john was the same all the way home in the cab that dropped him outside of his little three bed house.
he didn’t see however how john hesitated at the door to his home that evening. how he gripped the front door keys tightly in his fist, shook as he stared down at his feet instead of letting his eyes drift and catch on the windows, and felt as though he could crack a tooth from how hard he was clenching his teeth.
he finally opened the door when he thought the neighbours might begin to get worried and stepped inside, flicking on the lights as he went.
it wasn’t until he got to the kitchen that he found her.
stood bare foot, silent, eyes wide and pleading, blood seeping - always seeping. would it ever stop? would the blood ever end? - through her white pyjama top, his top that she’d borrowed for the night, and trickling down her bare legs.
her mouth opened and she visibly struggled for breath, but no sound escaped even as her tongue wagged on the floor of her mouth, lapping at the backs of her teeth as all words escaped her.
he swallowed back bile.
“hello, sweetheart,” he choked out. “sorry i’m late.”
the blood pooled at her feet, the panties she wore were seeped a dark purple from the viscus liquid dying the dark blue material and the shirt stuck to her front. john had remembered loving seeing her like this in a morning, had always thought she looked best in as little clothing as possible.
“i know you hate it when work keeps me busy, but it was unexpected. we were caught—“ a high screech, not dissimilar to that of a whistle that only a dog could hear, pierced through his ears and cut his words short. he curled in and covered his ears, but he knew it would do no good, he should’ve known better than to talk about work around her.
not after what had happened last time he got back late after overtime.
tears prickle at his eyes and the sound abruptly stopped. he’d never questioned why it seemed to be only him that could hear her protests, why his neighbours never mentioned a shrill cry every so often from his home. he had always said she was made for him and that had apparently translated literally into the afterlife.
he looked up at her again - it was best not to ignore her he found. it only made her angry.
“it won’t happen again,” he promised wetly. “i did my best to get back as soon as i could, i promise, sweetheart—“ he choked on his words, biting back a sob. she watched unblinkingly, silent except for the wet squelch of her feet on the laminate.
they both knew he wasn’t apologising for being late this time. he got like this sometimes, when her agonised face and mangled body was too much to bear after a long mission and the guilt bore down like a physical presence.
he couldn’t help but think if he’d gotten home even just an hour earlier he might’ve been able to save her, to have kept her company instead of leaving her on the floor alone and cold, maybe he could have caught the bastards that had hurt her while he was still travelling back from deployment after agreeing to hang back and finish his paperwork there and then instead of emailing it across.
he reached a shaking hand forward and blew out a ragged breath when his hand met nothing but frigid air. but when he brought his hand up to his face he could smell the copper tang of his dead wife’s blood on his skin. the stench unwashable, cloying, but if he concentrated hard enough it ever so faintly smelt like the vanilla perfume she used to wear.
“was telling the lads about you, love,” he forced an empty chuckle as he walked around her to the kettle and went through their usual routine. “think they might’ve fallen a little in love, not that i could blame them.”
he ran a hand over his face and gave himself a moment to let the tears fall as his palm hid his eyes. her silence was the worst part of it all, but he could see the glaring red of her in his peripheral when he dropped his hand to the counter.
it wasn’t pretending his wife was still alive if she was right there at his shoulder, was it?
“looks like i’ll need to grab you some more pg tips, sweetheart,” he said and poured the boiling water into two cups, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his wife. “we’re almost out.”
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fuji-sen · 3 months ago
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the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!
hello little sprouts! Just recently remembered my love(?) or interest with the sagau concepts!
ɞ﹒₊˚ This is partially inspired by the manhwa "A Divorced Evil Lady Bakes Cakes!" ɞ﹒₊˚ Imposter AU's, there is a bit angst in the first three nations but you'll be fineeeee, hopefully. ɞ﹒₊˚ Female!Reader x Selective!Various
divider used is made by @saradika-graphics
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[NAME'S] RECIPE AND INGREDIENTS BOOK!
nobody's allowed to touch >:0, especially you damn acolytes, stop trying to kill me! If found please return to [Name] [Lastname], definitely not the creator nor the imposter!
Prologue; The Foodie turned Imposter?!
When a foodie from the real world gets sucked into one of their comfort games, popular hoyoverse game's middle child Genshin Impact, it's not all fun and playtime as one would have expected. Finding out you share a face with the most divine God and Mother of the world, the creator, you are forced to fight for the right to live, so that you can eat and cook for another day!
Part 1: Sunsettia Part 2: Sweet Flowers Part 3: Mint Tea Part 4: hilichurl style stew > 4.5 special: adventures of a pyro slime Part 5: Burning Pinecones Part 6: Ginisang Ampalaya Part 7: Dawn Winery's Grapevine + Fruity Skewers Part 8: Buttery Mamon Part 9: Benny's Adventure Team + Wolfhooks POLL: Pyro Slime Name (Closed) LINK Part 10: TBA. . .
˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—
Volume 1; TBA
Chapter 1: The start of [Name]'s Recipes!
more coming soon. . .
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ɞ﹒₊˚ Taglist! If you want to be added to the taglist, you can comment here or in the LATEST chapter! This is so that its easier for me to compare which comment is old or new, or those who have or haven't been added yet. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
Also, please don't ask to be add in the taglist through my personal messages if possible. If it looks like im ignoring you guys in the comments about being added, im really not (╥ᆺ╥;), it's just I hold off on adding you or replying on your comments until I'm nearly done with the new chapters. I started avoiding chatting or entertaining messages especially from those that don't follow me, because I don't wanna get hacked or smth like that..
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bradshawsbaby · 1 year ago
Text
Love in the Air
Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader
Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?
Word Count: 12.5k
Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.
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If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.
Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.
“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”
“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.
“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”
Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.
Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.
You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.
It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.
You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.
“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”
“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.
“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.
“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.
“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”
And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.
It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.
Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.
“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”
“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”
How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.
“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”
Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.
“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”
Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”
“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.
“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.
“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”
“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.
All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.
“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.
The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.
“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.
“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”
“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.
“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.
You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.
“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.
You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.
As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.
You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.
Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.
By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.
You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.
When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.
Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.
Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.
Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.
At the gate yet???
Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.
Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.
Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.
😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!
Katie, it’s not even 9am…
So? A mimosa then!
You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.
When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.
Any cuties to share that mimosa with???
You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.
Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.
He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.
Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?
Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.
You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.
Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.
‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️
At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.
Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!
Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.
Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!
Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.
Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.
“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.
It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.
Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.
Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.
You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.
The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!
Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.
At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.
When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.
As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.
Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.
“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.
“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.
“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”
Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?
“I—I—”
“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.
Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.
“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.
With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.
“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”
You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”
The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”
Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?
“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”
He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”
“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”
“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”
“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”
“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”
“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.
Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”
“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.
Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.
Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.
Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.
“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.
Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.
“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.
“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”
“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.
Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.
Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.
On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?
It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.
Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!
You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.
Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.
OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!
How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?
It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!
Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?
Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.
Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.
Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.
It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.
As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.
Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!
I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!
You better answer me!!!
Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.
Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.
Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.
What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️
You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.
You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.
You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.
Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.
Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.
Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.
You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?
Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.
Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.
A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.
What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.
You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.
Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it. 
You’d written your note in black ink.
Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.
Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.
What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.
At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.
Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.
Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.
Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.
Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.
You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.
It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.
Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!
You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.
Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.
The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.
Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.
Bradley only took seconds to reply.
Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.
Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.
Hey! I thought we were friends!
We’ll see 😉
You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.
As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.
I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.
Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.
Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.
Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.
Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.
You’re on.
When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.
You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.
You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.
“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.
When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.
“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.
“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.
Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.
Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.
“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.
The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.
“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.
You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.
“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”
Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”
Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.
“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.
Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”
He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.
“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.
“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”
You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”
He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”
“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.
Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”
You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”
“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.
“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.
“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.
He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.
The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.
“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”
It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”
“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”
You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.
“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.
Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.
“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.
“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.
“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”
“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”
“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”
“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.
“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.
“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.
“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.
“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”
Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”
“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”
She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.
Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.
“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.
“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.
“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”
Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.
As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.
“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.
“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”
Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.
Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.
Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.
“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”
“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.
Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.
“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”
“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.
At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.
“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”
Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?
“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”
Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?
Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”
He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.
“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”
You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.
“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”
Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”
“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.
“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.
Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.
“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.
“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.
“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”
“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.
You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.
“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.
Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.
“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.
The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”
“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”
“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”
Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.
“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”
Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?
“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.
Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.
Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”
Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.
“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.
“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”
Someone like you?
The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.
You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.
You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.
“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.
You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.
“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”
You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”
“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”
Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.
To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.
“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”
“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.
For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.
At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.
“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.
“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”
“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”
“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.
By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.
You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?
All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.
“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.
“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”
“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.
“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.
“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”
“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.
Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.
“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.
“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”
“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.
Too late, you realized your mistake.
“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”
“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”
“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.
“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.
A moment later, she texted you back.
YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!
Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.
“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.
“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.
“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.
“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.
“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.
Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.
Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.
“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.
“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.
“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.
“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.
“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.
“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.
You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.
“Promise.”
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loafgeto · 1 year ago
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ᝬ 𝗡𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 ⤵︎
geto suguru x fem!reader
synopsis: you are the babysitter to twin girls. their adoptive dad, suguru, is normally dealing with work related issues and comes back one night with a treat.
cw: fem! reader, mdni 18+, explicit language, dilf geto suguru, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talking, fingering, squirting, some praising and usage of pet names (geto says princess, baby, and sweetheart, mister and sir are used for geto), you and geto basically fucking and trying to keep quiet while the girls sleep ;P
wc: 3.9k
a/n: hello guys, this is my first oneshot on here🙁 and if you know me, i’ve been obsessing over geto suguru and one of my friends suggested i write about him!! this oneshot isn’t proofread so it’s published however i wrote it like. i’ll go back soon to check for grammar or typo issues. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy because i know i will😋💯‼️
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“Come on girls, it’s time for you two to sleep,” you call from the kitchen to the two girls that were sitting by the TV in the living room. After cleaning the table and washing dishes, you went to the girls in order to prepare them for bed.
Grabbing the remote to the TV, one of the girls suddenly whine. “But I don’t wanna sleep. I wanna watch TV still,” Nanako huffs, crossing her arms over her chest in persistence.
“Me too.. I like this show. Please miss Y/n?” the other twin, Mimiko frowns, pressing her stuffed animal close to her.
“I’m sorry girls.. you know your dad gave me your schedules and he firmly said for you two to be in bed by 8:30,” you remind the girls as the remote falls under your grasp and you hit the power button to turn the TV off. “Now if your dad found out I broke one of the rules, he might not let me be your babysitter anymore.”
Their eyes widen in shock and they end up complying to your words. It wasn’t necessarily true. Though, their dad would be disappointed, he wouldn’t fire you because of it. And that’s because you’re actually a great babysitter. The previous ones weren’t as bad, but the girls didn’t necessarily like them until you were hired.
Nanako and Mimiko were quick to like you as their babysitter, in which satisfied their dad and you began babysitting them constantly several weekdays and weekends. It had been three months since, and it’s like you were apart of the family.
Not only that, you were given a good pay every week just to watch and take care of them. He was a single dad, worked 5 days a week to provide for him and the girls, and well, extremely handsome. You were astonished to discover that he didn’t even have a partner. He always dismissed it, declaring he was too focused on his work to seek for a relationship.
Unfortunate. You were honestly attracted to him, but you didn’t get this job solely because of that. You genuinely needed money to support yourself, and since you had prior skills in taking care of children, you figured it’d be easier to earn that way.
You just happen to become interested in the dude. It was to the point you even started developing some romantic feelings for him. You started imagining yourself with him, with the girls, as a family. Even imagining him pinning you down on his bed and fucking you relentlessly. You felt guilty thinking about it all, but no one had to know.
For now, you hide your true feelings about him but still show your respect and care for him. And you weren’t certain but, you even considered that he might have something towards you too.
You tuck the two girls in their individual twin beds, making sure they were comfortable before reading them a bed time story. And when they finally fell into a slumber, you quietly slip out of their room, shut off the lights and close their door.
Venturing back into the kitchen, you decide to grab a small serving of the cookies you three baked for dessert earlier and settle in the living room before their dad got home.
You play on your phone for the remainder of the hour. Scrolling through social media and messaging friends back while munching on the cookies. You glance at the clock several times, reading the numbers before deciding whether to prepare a meal for their father or not. Usually, out of courtesy, you would cook him a simple dinner that he always appreciated by eating and complimenting how well you cooked it.
hello, mister geto. i was wondering if you wanted me to cook dinner for you so that when you get back, it would be ready? you sent him the message, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you waited for a response.
No later than 2 minutes, he replies. no need to worry. i’m getting takeout. thanks though.
Well, you guessed you were able to relax until then, which you found no problem in.
You took this moment to walk around the two story house and explore. Their dad gave you permission to do so, even allowed you to enter all of the rooms besides his unless necessary. You were allowed to touch items but handle them with care or else you’d pay for the damage. You often found yourself in the room where he stores series of novels and single books, and read there while the girls sleep.
This time, you decided to grab one of the books from the Percy Jackson collection and read in the living room before their dad came home. You didn’t know how many times you’ve read the series, but you enjoyed it, and could read it over and over again with no complaints.
By the time it was 9:30, you could hear the front door to the house click, indicating someone was using a key to open the house. You get up from the couch, deciding to greet their dad by the door. The knob twists and as you approach the large foyer, the door opens and their dad steps into the house.
Geto Suguru is definitely one in a billion. His eyes directly fall onto your figure when the doors open, and he found himself unable to break his gaze until he opens his mouth.
“Ah. Y/n,” Suguru was quite surprised with your greeting by the door, but he replaces his expression with a warm smile as he shuts the door behind him. “How was today? Were the girls good?”
“Today went well, as usual, Mister Geto. The girls were good. Did their homework, had dinner, and are sleeping right now,” you reply as he walks past you to get into the kitchen. He gives you a glance and nods, and you follow him.
“That’s good, I appreciate it,” Suguru implies as he enters the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on his kitchen island table. He gives you another look before adding, “want some?”
“Oh- no, thank you. Please, it’s your dinner. You should enjoy it,” you decline with a polite grin as you went to the other side of the island table. Conversations were occasionally like this between the two of you, it may seem awkward, but it didn’t feel like it. “How was work today for you, Mister Geto?”
“Was alright. Just got dragged into some issues. Have to deal with it tomorrow,” Suguru sighs with an irritated groan. He starts untying the knot from the takeout bag and took out the boxes.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Hopefully things will be alright for you,” you reply with a slight frown. “You know I’m here to listen to your problems.”
“No worries, but I appreciate you,” Suguru chuckles softly. “By the way, you sure you don’t want any? I bought too much for one person.”
“I’d feel bad..”
“You should feel bad for not eating, especially when I offered,” Suguru slides one of the boxes over to you. “Come on. It’d be our first dinner together.”
You didn’t necessarily know how to respond and decide to just comply to his offer. You take the takeout box and a pair of chopsticks. “Well.. thank you, Mister Geto.”
Suguru only nods as a reply and you both start to eat in silence. You notice that he frequently sends you glances. Mind you, you’re wearing a dress. The length was mid-thigh and the attire was mainly for the girls since they wanted to play dress up. His glances caused you to ponder if he was becoming uncomfortable and you decide to bring up the matter but Suguru speaks first.
“The dress looks beautiful on you,” Suguru blurts out the compliment as your eyes meet his. You were appalled, to say the least. This unexpected compliment caused your heart to skip rapid beats.
“O-Oh.. thank you, sir.. The girls wanted to play dress up, so I came in a dress in order to do that,” you casually explain, trying not to express your fluster due to his words.
Suguru raises a brow, but smiles. “Yeah? I’m glad you and the girls have a close bond. They don’t have a mother figure but I believe you’re supporting that role for them. I’m genuinely grateful for you since I can’t always be there for them. And you’re always welcome here, even if you aren’t scheduled to babysit them.”
“I really appreciate that. Thank you so much,” you give him a smile. Honestly, how more can this man go to attract you?
“You thirsty?” Suguru brings up next as he starts walking towards one of the cabinets. He takes out two wine glasses, glancing at you for an answer. “I don’t have wine anymore, you fine with some juice or soda and we pretend like it’s wine or whatever?”
You laugh softly. “I’m fine with that.”
Suguru pours juice in the two glasses and hands you one of them. “Next time, I’ll have some wine prepared. Just don’t want the girls getting their hands on something they shouldn’t be touching.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hide them extra careful. Besides, the girls are smart enough not to snoop in areas they aren’t supposed to,” you imply and Suguru chuckles, nodding in agreement.
“You’re right. Next time then.”
“Mhm. Next time.”
You and Suguru finish eating shortly afterwards. He remained at the island table, cleaning up the takeout boxes and messaging his employers on his phone. You went to the sink and began washing your glass cup, and afterwards, you’d finally prepare to go back home.
Suguru stood behind, unbeknownst to you. About to turn around in order to fetch his cup to wash, you felt the sensation of his body hover over yours. This feeling caused you to startle, but you remained poised and watch as he placed his empty cup in the sink.
“Don’t worry, I got it from here,” Suguru whispers in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine and you turn your head to meet his gaze. He was so close to you. His lips were reachable for you and your heart starts pounding.
“I-It’s okay.. I should be the one to..” you start to say as your eyes trail from his lips and up to his eyes. “..wash them..”
You and Suguru stood there, locking eyes for who knows how long. It was cliche, but at that moment, you found yourself getting lost in his dark eyes. You felt your face burning and you were certain Suguru could see how flustered you’ve become. But you didn’t budge, and neither did he.
“Mister Geto..?”
“Fuck..” Suguru murmurs, finally breaking eye contact but remained in the same position. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just—“
He looks back up at you and the expression in eyes told everything.
In an instant, your lips found your way to his. Suguru immediately kisses you back, wrapping an arm around your waist while yours went around his neck. He gently pushes you against the kitchen island table, and he deepens the kiss with more passionate energy.
You pull Suguru closer, a hand going to grasp his hair as his free hand slithers under your thigh and he grips it. Suguru hoists your thighs up and moves his hand further under your dress.
“God.. you’re so beautiful. Wanna fuck you so bad, princess,” Suguru mumbles as he pulls away slightly from the kiss.
“W-Want you to fuck me.. Mister Geto..” you whisper through your pants as a smirk forms on his lips. He gives you another kiss, pressing his tongue against yours. You moan against mouth and he pulls away, sliding his hand up to cup your ass.
“Yeah?” He replies and you nod, feeling the tip of his middle finger trace the soaked area of your underwear. “Already so fucking wet, just f’me.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
Suguru then began swirling his finger around your clothed clit, causing you to release a moan. Gosh. The feeling of his fingers just gently touching you already made you a complete mess.
“You gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” Suguru reminds you as he pushes your underwear to the side.
“Mhm.. want you to fuck me with your fingers, sir..” you mumble, still holding him by the neck.
Suguru wastes no time and pushes two of his longer fingers into your dripping pussy. You throw your head back slightly, gasping at the feeling before Suguru latches his mouth on your neck. He begins to pump his fingers in and out of you at a sensual pace, circling his thumb around your clit.
Your hand grabs the edge of the island table for support and the other covers your mouth, refraining your loud moans to echo throughout the house. But it just felt too good, that you could barely hold back.
“You hear that, princess? You hear how wet you are for me?” Suguru inquires, pulling back and dropping to his knees. His fingers pump a few more time before he lifts the dress up even more. “Such a pretty pussy.”
“M-Mister Geto..” you moan as you felt his mouth latch onto your pussy. His tongue starts to suck and lick your clit, as he proceeds to slide and curl his fingers in and out of you in a faster pace. “So good..”
Suguru thrusts his fingers deeper, hitting your spots. He uses his other hand to lift your leg over his shoulder for a better angle before pushing his fingers out. He licks your arousal dripping from your cunt and down your thighs before pressing his tongue into your pussy.
“S-Sir!” you throw your head back as you felt his tongue lick in and all around pussy. He gives a gentle blow to your clit before giving it several kitten licks.
Suguru returns two of his fingers inside of you, curling and pumping them at a quicker speed. Your moans escape from the tip of your tongue just like that. It was music to Suguru’s ears and he wanted to hear your sweet and erotic noises more.
The way your walls clench around his long fingers made him wonder how it’d feel like with his dick. Oh, how he wanted to test it out right now.
“G-Gonna cum.. Mister Geto..”
“Cum for me, princess. Cum over my face and fingers.”
A hand goes to grip his hair as he fucks your pussy with his mouth and fingers. You’re close, feeling his fingers curl in you to rub against your sensitive spots. Suguru quickens his pace so you’d cum faster when hearing your wet pussy squelch and moans get louder, messier.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.. cumming—“ you moan out, head falling back and your grip on the kitchen island table tightens as your cum squirts over his fingers and mouth.
Suguru continues to pump his fingers several times as you came, licking all of the juices that dripped from his mouth. He cleans your cum with his tongue, making sure to get every droplet that dropped on your skin.
He gets up, gently pushing his fingers in your mouth in order for you to get a taste of yourself. You suck and swirl your tongue over his fingers and Suguru’s expression turns more cunning.
“Didn’t think my kids’ babysitter was this naughty,” Suguru comments with a chuckle following.
“It’s cause of you..” you murmur as he removes his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva connected from your tongue and the tip of his fingers.
Suguru leans in to give you another kiss, lifting you off the ground with his strength and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your lips moves against his as he walks the two of you over to the living room, where he lays you down on the couch.
“Remember to keep your voice down, princess,” Suguru mutters as he trails his hand behind your back to the zipper of your dress. He gives you another quick kiss as you nod your head.
Suguru completely unzips your dress and lifts it over your head, tossing it to the side before examining your body with his eyes. “So perfect,” he says and lowers his body to kiss you again.
He grinds his body against yours and you could feel his bulge press against your clothed pussy. Even under all that clothing, you knew he was big. So big that you didn’t know if you could take it.
“Need you inside of me, Mister Geto. Please,” you whine as his hand slips under your bra to grope your breast.
“You that impatient?” Suguru chuckles against your skin before pressing several kisses down your neck and chest. But it’s obvious that he’s completely mesmerized. “Need my dick in you so badly, hm? I’ll give it to you, baby.”
Suguru unzips his pants, taking his hard cock out. It sprung up, already dripping in pre-cum. Your eyes were glued on his dick, mouth practically open. Your pussy quivered with the sight of it, knowing it’d be slipping in and out of you soon, making you beg for more.
He could feel his face flush as quickly takes off his shirt and he begins pumping his cock several times with his hand. “Can’t wait to feel your pussy around my cock.”
Suguru slips your underwear off, tossing it to the side with your dress and spreads your legs further apart before aligning the tip of his dick to your entrance. You bite your lip, feeling his tip glide against your wet folds.
“Still so wet..” Suguru murmurs, dick twitching with the feeling of your wet entrance. “Been waiting for this moment..”
“Me too.. sir..”
He pushes his cock inside of your pussy slowly, feeling your walls clench around him at an instant. You both let out moans, and Suguru lowers his body over you while using both of his hands to grab your hips.
Suguru was big, so fucking big. He stretches you out perfectly, as if your pussy was made just for his cock.
“Fuckkk,” Suguru grunts, pushing his entire length into your pussy.
“So big.. Oh g-god. Mister Ge—“
“Suguru. Call me, Suguru,” he interrupts as his face drops to your neck.
“Suguru..”
Hearing you say his name for the first time brought a warm feeling to his heart, it was so soft, sweet and affectionate. The way you looked at Suguru made him wonder if you actually felt the same way about him.
With no hesitation, Suguru thrusts immediately, grunting during the moment when he feels his cock grinding against the walls of your pussy. You cover your moans with your hand, and his thrusts become faster and deeper, hitting every sensitive part of your pussy.
“Fuck! Suguru-!” your arms wrap around him, nails beginning to claw his back.
Your moans start to resonate the room, despite trying to lower it, his cock was just too good. He thrusts fast, his balls slapping against your cunt and you swore you could feel him penetrate your womb. The wet and erotic sounds of skin slapping and your wet pussy starts to permeate the room and Suguru covers your mouth with his, refraining your loud moans to travel to the second level of the house.
Suguru’s pounding you so fucking good, just like you’ve always imagined him doing. But this was way better than all your imaginations and dreams. You’re in pure bliss, overwhelmed with the feeling of how good his cock his. Your legs wrap around Suguru’s waist as he thrusts his cock deeper and deeper as he could, enjoying your moans falling into his mouth.
“Fuck.. your pussy feels so good princess,” Suguru says as he pulls his lips away from yours.
He slips his cock out before pushing two fingers inside of your pussy and rubbing your clit with his thumb again. He thrusts them several times, getting moans out of you before slipping them out.
Suguru flips your body over, and you prop yourself with your two hands while his hands travels back to your hips. He grips the side of your hips, spreading your ass cheeks before slamming his cock back inside of you, making you wince.
“Suguru!”
This position made you feel him so deep inside. His cock rubs against your g-spot every thrust, making your body tremble and moans escape even more. Suguru noticed this made you louder, and he found it amusing and cute how you’re trying to stay quiet as possible.
Your pussy is clenching him so tight, making him grunt and moan. God, he knew he’d love this feeling. “F-Fuck, princess. Squeeze my cock just like that.”
“S-So close again.. Suguru-“
Suguru’s grip around your hip tightens to the point his hand print was marked and he fastens his pace, his hips slamming into your ass and the couch starts creating squeaking noises. Your upper body drops to the couch, unable to withstand propping yourself up. Your moans are buried within the couch and your back arches more to allow Suguru to fuck you deeper.
He could feel how deep he’s going in your pussy, it drove him insane. Fucking your kid’s babysitter should be the last thing to think of but he couldn’t help himself, especially on the first day he met you. For one, all he knew was that he wanted you. Wanted to hear you moan, cry out his name and kiss him. Wanted to cum inside of you and make you squirt. He’d make you his.
“Gonna cum soon, baby— fuck,” Suguru grunts, lowering his body over yours. One of his hands goes to grab your face, making you turn to face him. You both share a sloppy kiss, moans bouncing off each other’s tongues.
“Want your cum in me, Suguru..”
“Yeah? Gonna pump some into your womb. Gonna make you mine.”
You can barely speak, your mind becomes foggy and your eyes are rolling back. Moans can only tell how you’re feeling, and it’s enough for Suguru to know he’s fucking you the best.
Suguru’s lips trail down your neck and to your shoulders, and he peppers several kisses against your skin. He gently bites the skin of your back, returning his grip to your hips as he quickens his thrust, pounding you from the back.
“Fuck, fuck. I-I’m all yours, Suguru!” you cry out, trying to grip the seat of the couch as you reach your next orgasm. 
“Cumming too, shit—“ Suguru grunts, his dick pumping cum into your womb as you squirt over his cock and couch. He gives several slow thrusts, feeling the walls of your pussy pulsating and squeezing all of his cum out. 
You’re both panting and sweating, processing the moment that just occurred. Suguru’s cock is still buried deep inside of you, gaining the warm feeling of your pussy. He groans, finally slipping his cock out. 
His cum mixed with your juices drip out of your pussy, streaming down your inner thigh and onto the couch. Suguru is breathing heavily and he lowers his body in order to press a kiss against your temple. 
“Wanna stay here for the night?” Suguru questions, lips near your ear. 
“I don’t know..” you reply, turning your head to him before he kisses your lips. “I don’t have extra clothes.”
“Wear mines.”
Suguru kisses you once again, trying to convince you further.
“Come on. It’s late, besides you and I need a shower. And clean up the mess we made,” Suguru continues with a short chuckle. “Plus, I’m sure the girls will be thrilled to see you in the morning.”
You thought about it for a moment before nodding your head. “Okay.”
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LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.
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himbofan4444 · 1 year ago
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“Another day…” I say to myself as I walk through the parking garage. The is air still damp from the rainstorm yesterday. I look around. The garage is oddly vacant. Perhaps I’d come in when the buildings closed again. Determined to finish the day and get home quickly, I trudge past the puddles and cigarette butts. “God it’s freezing,” I say to myself, shivering.
I look around again. I’m used to a long walk to the stairs but today’s feels… really long. I can’t see my car but that’s all thanks to the thick fog that has been settled in town for a few days. I can’t see the stairwell either. The only thing I can see is the fog surrounding me. I sigh and continue my trek forwards, unsure if I’m even moving forwards anymore.
After a few more minutes of walking, I stumble upon an odd sight. In front of me is a shopping booth, something I’ve never seen the liking of before here. A faint concoction of aromas reach my nose: a strange mix of perfume, wood, leather, and some other implacable scents. At the booth stands a broad man. On the table, there are a variety of brightly colored liquids contained in erlenmeyer flasks. The man waves me over, a toothy grin across his dark, bearded face.
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“Well hello there fine fellow! How can I help ya?” the man asks. His voice is gravelly and deep, the kind of voice that makes you weak in the knees.
“Oh, I’m not interested in buying anything, sir. I’m just trying to find the stairs,” I respond.
The man lets out a hearty laugh, “Please, call me Rohan! And I insist. I’ll even give you a hefty discount.”
I eye the flasks, taking in the colorful liquids. Each is bubbling and emanates an odd warmth, much preferable over the freezing air of the rest of the parking garage. “So, what are they?” I ask.
“Oh, just some herbal remedies. They’re very common in holistic medicine,” Rohan says, lifting up to of the flasks. “Would you like one, sir?”
“Oh I’m not sure if I should. I’ve tried these things before and they haven’t… agreed with me,” I say, letting out a small chuckle.
“Don’t you worry about that, sir. These are all natural. I insist, try one. Here,” Rohan picks up a pink one and holds it out for me. I reluctantly grab it and give him a half-smile. “That’ll be $5, sir,” Rohan says as he holds out his large palm. I search through my wallet and find a crumpled up $5 bill and hand it to him. He smiles and says with a certain satisfaction, “Have a lovely day, sir!”
I walk off with the flask in hand, still unsure of where the stairs are. I check my phone for the time. Shit! I’m late! I briskly walk through the parking garage but to no avail. I’m still lost. At least until I see my car. Damnit! I just walked in a big circle! Exhausted and angry, I get in my car and sit down. The car is almost as cold as outside, a small remnant of the heating still present. I start the car, deciding to head home.
Before I can put my foot on the gas pedal, my gaze drifts down to the flask in the passenger’s seat. “I should probably drink that…” I say to myself. I reach down and grab it, bringing the beverage to my lips. It smells like perfume. I lift the flask, the contents of which pouring into my mouth and down my throat. It’s almost unbearably sweet. So much so that it’s almost bitter. There’s also a strange salty aftertaste. I cough and drink from my water bottle, the flavor lingering in my mouth.
I drive home in silence, allowing myself to be bitter about today’s events as of now. As I drive home, I notice an odd, unfamiliar tingling in my butt. I itch it but it doesn’t help. “Maybe I just worked legs a little too hard yesterday,” I say with a shrug. Soon, my whole body feels tingly, almost numb. My work clothes begin to feel a bit tight on my body, specifically my pants. I’m sure I grabbed the larger size I have but maybe I didn’t. This morning was quite hectic after all. I shrug off the odd occurrence and continue my drive home.
On the way home, I pass a Starbucks and turn into the parking lot. I usually don’t buy such frivolous things, but I’d already bought that horrible drink so why not? As I walk inside, I notice a strange quality to my walking. Usually I have a quite confident strut but that has been replaced by something almost like a waddle. Odd.
Once inside, I’m finally warm. The warmth of the store is so refreshing. Before ordering, I sit at a table by the window. Sitting here feels weird. I’m not used to this amount of cushioning on these chairs but maybe I misjudged them. I take off my winter coat, setting it on the high top table in front of me. I catch a glimpse of my arms in my tight dress shirt sleeves. Jesus! I’ve always been in shape but I’ve NEVER been this big. I flex a small bit, blushing at my public flexing session. Damn, the gym’s been doing me good recently.
A short blonde barista walks over to me. She’s very cute but my still bitter attitude puts a damper on my lustful looks. She pulls out a notepad and a pencil, “Would you like anything sir?”
“Oh no-“ I clear my throat. My voice sounds less deep than normal for some reason. “I mean, sure. Could I have a vanilla latte?” Why did I order that? I always order black coffee, never that girl shit. The barista smiles and nods, writing my order down, “Got it. Is that all?”
“Yes ma’am,” I respond. Handing her the money for the beverage.
She walks off, immediately going to make my drink. I rub my throat. Why do I still sound so weird? She comes back over, my drink in hand. “Here you go sir,” she says, “Oh and by the way, I love your hair. Blonde is so your color. You look fabulous.” She walks away to serve other customers.
What? Blonde? I’m not blonde. I’ve always had brown hair. And… fabulous? Who does she think I am? One of those queers? Does my hair really look blonde to her? I pull out my phone and look at myself in the selfie camera. Jesus! My hair IS blonde! And it looks… curly. What the hell happened?! And my face… It looks off. Something is uncanny about it. I look like myself but also not… Like my lips look bigger and so do my eyes. My eyebrows look a bit neater than they should and my stubble is shorter than normal.
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I get down from the stool, ready to leave and deal with this weird stuff at home. As I walk out, I feel a strange jiggling in my rear. I crane my neck around my shoulder to see what was going on with my butt. Holy shit! My ass is huge! I run out to my car, my big fat ass jiggling like crazy as I run. I quickly drive home.
Once inside, I strip off my damp clothes to assess the damage. My muscles do look bigger than normal, especially my pecs. They look like fucking tits. Jesus, they’re huge. My ass is enormous, any movement causing it to jiggle wildly. And that tingling in my ass still hasn’t gone away. I look like a poster fag. Like the dictionary definition of a faggot. Fuck…
I go up to my room and find a cardboard box on my bed. After opening it, I see a huge pink dildo and a pink jockstrap, both the same color as the drink. The dildo is easily a foot long. I shiver in disgust looking at the items. An odd feeling comes from my ass. My ass is tingling worse than before, specifically directly in my asshole. God I just wanna shove that dildo up my ass… No! I can’t be thinking like a fag! Looking like one is bad enough!
I shove the grotesque items back into the box and chuck the box across the room. I look at myself in the mirror, hesitantly touching my pouty lips. They feel almost numb, as if they aren’t real. Come to think of it… I feel my pecs and my ass, both having the same numb tingling. Oh my god…
My body stiffens up, my back arched, showing off my large muscle tits and fake fuckable ass. Goddamn why am I thinking like that? Against my will, my buff arms reach up and turn my baseball cap, which had gone from a cream color to a black and pink one, backwards. It’s like a switch got flipped. My brain goes from active and agile to slow and dull. MY thoughts become more lustful and… gay.
Damn, I wish Rohan fucked me earlier. He like totally has a huge dick. I pout, crossing my arms across my inflated chest. My heads turns, facing the discarded box. My body prances over to the box and extracts the faggy… I mean sexy things. I pull the pink jockstrap over my big round ass, doing a few hops to see my bubble butt bounce in the elastic material. I snatch up the massive dildo and lay in my bed, my thick beefy legs spread out. My body instinctively shoves the dildo as far up my ass as it can.
My hole feels oddly loose despite the lack of penetration it’s received. My brain pushes those thoughts into the garbage, conjuring up new memories of me being fucked by hoards of men, each hung like a horse and concerningly aggressive. I let out shrill, feminine moans with each thrust of the toy. Each thrust causes my room and house to become more pink and slutty looking. My wardrobe emptying of my work clothes and instead having pink slutty outfits. My bed begins vibrating, my old bed replaced with a vibrating one.
I cum out of my shrunken cock, my small load leaving me gasping for air. I’ve never felt this much pleasure in my whole life! I sit on my knees in front of the full length mirror in my room and take a picture for my Daddies.
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This is me now, a stupid, horny, bouncy slut for any man who’ll take me in for the night.
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klausysworld · 1 year ago
Note
Hey babes, since you didn't update in 5 days im hoping that nothing bad happened to you and that you are alright:(<333
Anyway If not here is an new idea:
So Y/N is an Omega and her Parents don't like her and always been mean to her and abused her and all that yk? When they hear that Klaus who is an alpha seeks an Omega to be his, they try to sell her to him. (I don't know how to write this without it sounding weird but anywaysss) So they make her "perfekt" for him with putting on nice clothes and make up. And teach how she needs to be with her Alpha, which are all things like she needs to listen to him and do as he says and all that stuff. She is scared of what will happen to her since she heard the stories about Klaus.
But when she is with him he treats her so good and is caring and sweet and tells her that everything her parents said and did to her isn't true and that she doesn't have listen to their rules. She is comfortable with him and surprisingly happy and than there is smut and she even let's him mark her. She is happy with him and never wants to be away from him again and is kind of thankful that her parents sold her off.
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Just for him
Klaus had been with his fair share of betas over his time, some other alpha as well but not an omega. Omegas needed tending to, attention and affection that he hadn’t been willing to give until now. He was at a time where he didn’t have anything to do, enemies were eliminated and he was in a somewhat healthy position with his family. All he needed was an omega and his days would be perfect.
And it didn’t take long for the word to spread through the supernatural community, all werewolves were informed that Klaus Mikaelson was looking for an omega to claim.
What they didn’t expect was for him to be so picky.
Elijah had been taking phone calls to arrange his brother meeting with omegas and their families to try and find the one best suited for him and they were both losing hope until Y/n’s father called. They painted the perfect picture, a sweet little angel. So Klaus agreed to a meeting and they brought the girl over.
When they arrived at the abattoir the girl was pushed forward, she reeked of fear and anxiety as her big eyes darted in every possible direction. Her hair was down, framing her soft face, her face was smooth with makeup with a pink blush across her nose and cheeks. Her lashes were long and painted black while her lips were pink and glossed.
Klaus’s eyes travelled the length of her, his pupils dilating as he looked over her pink cami dress. Her smooth legs were on display and her small feet were hidden by ankle strap platform heels.
Elijah could feel his lips quirk up slightly at the sight before them and he glanced to Niklaus with interest. They both gave a subtle nod before welcoming the Y/L/Ns inside.
Y/n kept silent the whole afternoon, just like her parents told her to be. Either her mother or father answered any of Klaus’s questions and both were more than eager to convince him she was perfect.
What they didn’t pick up on was how close Klaus was to tearing their throats out for not shutting up. Throughout the afternoon he could sense that it wasn’t just him that y/n was afraid of. He could see her body twitch and shift whenever either of her parents put a hand on her or looked her in the eye, at one point she had shuffled closer to Klaus himself so that her father couldn’t put his arm around her.
His eyes had been checking her all over and after staring at her soft thighs for a considerable amount of time, he eventually noticed small marks. Her dress had accidentally moved up and it barely covered her pretty panties from his view but unfortunately he didn’t catch a peek. What he saw instead were fingertip shaped bruises on her skin. It was her mother who fixed her skirt, a glare on her face when y/n went to open her mouth to apologise.
So he decided he would like to spend the next morning with y/n, alone.
The poor omega looked like she was going to cry when he told her that she would be having brunch with him and only him. As much as she was afraid of her parents, the ruthless Klaus Mikaelson was surely worse.
Nevertheless the next morning she was up and ready. Dressed to impress and waiting for him to come pick her up.
Her parents stood waiting expectantly for the door to knock and were fast on their toes to answer it, bright smiles on their face. Klaus raised a brow and glanced behind them to y/n who was picking at her freshly done nails.
“Come omega” he commanded, watching as she quickly scurried to his side. Her hand hesitantly went to his outstretched one, her eyes not daring to meet his. He hummed lowly and guided her to his car, opening the door for her and watching as a soft blush covered her face. She got into the passenger seat obediently and within a second he was beside her.
The ride was quiet, she could hear her heart pounding as he drove to a cafe.
He turned his head to her as he parked and unclipped his belt. “You don’t have to be so quiet my love” he mumbled whilst reaching forward to let his hand graze her cheek. Her eyes found his as a small whimper left her on response and his lips twitched into a smirk. “You truly are a sweet little omega” he grins and her cheeks redden further.
He shakes his head to himself and reaches for her hand, holding onto it and pulling her along with him into the cafe. “I’m sure you’re hungry sweetheart, you barely ate a thing at dinner” he muses as he leads her to their table and sits her down before seating himself opposite her.
Her big curious eyes dashed around the lounge type room, following the plates of food that the waitresses wore and to the range of guests, all clearly from money.
Klaus watched as she looked back to him quickly, her jaw clenched shut and her nose struggling to breath fast enough. He turned his head slightly and slid the menu across to her “you can have any thing you like, would you like something sweeter like pancakes or waffles or would you prefer something bigger like a full English or an American breakfast?” He pointed to the different sections for her and let her scan through the contents of each offer. Though his eyes narrow when her gaze landed on the sides
“I’ll just have some toast” she uttered reluctantly but he shook his head
“Choose something proper or I’ll pick for you” he commanded, his tone a little rougher as he felt his wolf pushing forward. A low, barely audible whine left her throat as she looked back down to the menu.
When she failed to make a better choice, out of fear of her mother or father finding out of her ‘greedy’ habits, Klaus simply did as promised and ordered her a stack of pancakes with bacon and syrup while getting a full english for himself.
A vanilla milkshake was put infront of her, despite her claiming to want a water and once more her cheeks went a shade pinker. It baffled her how he seemed to know exactly what she wanted and her wolf was slowly warming to his.
Throughout brunch Klaus was able to pull a few conversations out of her, nothing personal otherwise she seemed to shut down but she liked to hear about him and his interests though he had began to wonder if it was genuine interest or what how she was told to behave.
It wasn’t until after he had payed and brought her back to the car did he mention anything of it.
Just as Klaus clipped her belt on for her to ensure her safety did his hand get ahold of her chin to make her look at him. His eyes flashed gold making hers do the same, his irises bled into orange while hers went a pale yellow. He leant forward to brush his nose along the side of her neck, his wolf hungry for her and his mind wandering at the scent of her blood beneath her skin. The primal urge to sink his teeth in and mark her as his own was overwhelming and the way her wolf was responding only added to it. She was so submissive to him, so ready to bend to his every word.
“How long have your parents been training you?” He whispered gruffly and she felt her heart sink. When she didn’t reply he pulled back and tilted his head at her, daring her to speak “omega…”
“Since you started looking” she murmured timidly
“So they made you just for me?” He hummed and tucked her hair behind her ears as she nodded. “You know you don’t have to be so scared” he told her gently as he watched the panic sink in “you’re a very good girl, a very lovely omega but I’m sure you’re even better when you’re being yourself sweetheart” he explained and she nibbled her lip nervously. “I’d like to keep you my love” he muttered and she glanced to his eyes “to be my omega” he confirmed and she nodded slowly. “But I need you to be happy and comfortable, I don’t want my little omega to be afraid and feeling out of place” he murmured softly.
Y/n fiddled with her fingers as she glanced between him and her hands, unsure how to behave. He sighed lightly and stroked her jaw “alright sweetheart, you just sit and ill get us back” he mumbled a little disappointed.
She looked out the window as he got into his own seat and started the car. Her leg bounced through her nerves as she pictured her parents reaction when he told them she wasn’t the omega for him. As they drove nearer and nearer to his mansion she panicked more and more. Her breathing grew more laboured and she felt like the car was growing smaller around her.
Klaus glanced over to her as he heard her heavy breaths before quickly pulling over and unclipping his belt. He sped round to her side of the car and pulled her out of it and into his arms. She panted for air and he smoothed his hand over her hair
“It’s alright my love” he murmured softly “just breathe sweetheart, nice deep breaths” he tried to calm her but it wasn’t working. He bounced her gently almost like a baby as he shushed her softly. “You’re okay” he hummed “nothing’s gonna happen to you” he whispered but her face only seemed to get redder without air. He cupped her head and pushed her face into his neck, letting her nose press to his scent gland.
As though a switch was clicked she was relaxed, inhaling his scent and huffing it back out. Her eyes fluttered shut and a soft moan left her pink lips. Klaus felt a low rumble leave his chest at the sound she released and his body shivered when her open mouth pressed to his neck.
His fingers gripped onto her hair tightly as she sucked the skin into her mouth.“Omega…” he groaned as he felt the wind whip over them as a car sped past. Her legs were round his waist as he clung onto her tightly. “Such…a good omega” he mumbled as her blunt teeth scraped his neck.
Y/n couldn’t help but want to sink her teeth into his skin. His alpha scent was addicting and being this close to him was sending her into complete auto drive.
Klaus stroked her hair gently, encouraging her to sink her teeth into his neck with a grin forming on his face. None of the other omegas he had met with were like this, nowhere near as perfect as she was.
His wolf had chosen hers and she had submitted to it instantly. Already she was seeking comfort from him and a whining mess.
Klaus’s eyes rolled back as he felt her little canines sink into the side of his neck, he squeezed her tight and pressed her up against the door on his car as he felt the gentle burn of the venom in her gums transfer into his bloodstream.
With much reluctance, y/n pulled her mouth away from his neck and began to drop her legs back down to the ground slowly. Her eyes widened as she realised the marks in his skin weren’t fading and hesitantly looked up to his eyes. He looked straight back at her, pupils blown open and fangs visible against his lip. She felt her belly pool with heat at the sight and she began to tilt her head to expose her neck for him.
Klaus didn’t waste another second before pressing his mouth to her throat, licking and nuzzling the flesh before dropping his fangs into her. Her moan was heavenly and encouraged him to take a gulp of her blood. The taste was intoxicating and his entire body was filled with a pleasant buzz as his hand began to grope alone her thighs.
Both minds fell to autopilot as he pulled back and her legs dropped down from his waist. She was turned around and bent straight over the hood of the car. Klaus ground his front against her soft little ass, his hands dragging the skirt of her dress up to reveal her cotton panties. He let out a groan before sinking his teeth back into her neck from behind, then her shoulder and her back, covering her in bite marks.
Y/n was a babbling, panting mess, her body rubbing itself against Klaus’s dick like a horny puppy. Her omega mind was completely in control as whimpered pleas fell from her lips, begging him to claim her right there.
Klaus wasn’t in any more control to deny her, his fingers snapping the elastic in her panties and throwing them to the road, his darkening eyes finding her bare ass and soaked pussy as he crouched down to get a look at her.
Y/n let out a pleasured cry when his warm mouth pressed to her cunt, her nails dug into the metal she was sprawled over and her legs began to shake. She moaned loudly for her alpha, begging and begging for more.
Klaus lapped like a dog, his tongue twisting and folding to devour her. His hands held her ass to give himself the best access and he sucked and fucked her weeping hole with his his face. Her little nails elongated to form her wolf’s claws as she cling to the car, her moans and cries were echoed out into the road and nearby trees but she didn’t care. All she knew was that whatever this feeling was, she was addicted to it.
Her hips ground herself onto his mouth, her body trembling and screaming for him to keep going. She let out a loud, incoherent sound as she felt something much more urgent flood her, begging to be reached.
Klaus could feel her body struggling to hold onto the building feeling. His tongue plunged into her repeatedly, taking enjoyment in her cries and the way her little cunt would tighten. It only took a few more sucks and licks at her pulsing clit before her legs went out and he help her firmly against the car as a rush of wetness was squirted all over him.
Klaus let out a grunt and a laugh when he pulled his face back to look at the mess, wiping his face with his sleeve and watching her limp thighs drip. “Perfect. Fucking. Omega” he growled as he stood up and ripped his belt off.
Y/n was panting softly, her breath creating a wet circle on the car as she pressed her cheek against the top. A small whimper left her when a car drove past, the drivers eyes wide as they sped by.
She felt his hands hold onto her hips, lifting her so she was bend further over the hood so her toes couldn’t reach the ground. Her lashes fluttered and a breath of air left her lungs as she felt something nice and thick press against her cunt.
“Alpha…” she whined and Klaus hummed deeply
“It’s alright omega, it’ll feel so good” he whispered as he thrust his hips forward. A sharp noise left her at the stretch. Klaus’s head threw back as he forced his cock all the way inside. His hand gently stroked her back as he heard her little sobs “it’s okay” he murmured “you’ll feel better in a moment I’m certain” he soothed.
Her pussy squeezed and pulsated around his cock, clinging to him desperately. She slowly felt the sting disappear and was left with a full feeling. Klaus sensed her calming and gently traced the teeth marks in her skin. “good girl” he whispered as he slowly began to move within her.
Her body relaxed entirety when he started thrusting into her, her cries became soft little moans and her eyes closed.
Klaus could feel his wolf sit right at the front of his mind, claiming her now as his. Klaus could feel the need to breed her full of his pups overwhelm his body.
His hips snapped to hers quickly, her hot pussy swallowing his cock more and more with each thrust. Her moans grew more frequent and her body rocked back and forth slowly to feel him hit deeper.
His hands caressed her hips gently as he groans loudly. “Such a good omega” he praises making her whimper happily.
“More” she whined and he grinned, moving fast and harder, causing the car to shake beneath her. He moved his hand around her waist, sliding it down to stroke his fingers against her slippery clit.
Y/n let out a loud cry at the familiar build up of heat. She looks over her shoulder to see her alpha pounding into her. Dark veins travel under his golden eyes as he looked to her. His lips parted to pant and he smiled to her, his spare hand pet her hair gently. A grunt left his lips when she tightened around him and he pressed his fingers down a little harder as she ground her clit against them.
Her sweaty hands left marks against the hood of the car and her body felt hotter with each passing second. Klaus could feel her squeezing his swelling cock every few seconds, her puffy clit pulsating and her thighs trembling. He could feel the marks in his neck burn pleasantly and knew she could feel the same from her own mating marks as a pleasant purr rolled through her body.
Mumbled moans tumbled from her lips clumsily as her mind completely clouded over. She muttered incoherently as she felt his cock spill inside her. He rubbed her clit quickly, his other hand gently sliding down to her ass as he moving his hips a little slower as his sensitivity skyrocketed.
He smiled lazily to himself at the coked sound she let out as her pussy spasmed around him. He pet her ass gently, gradually reducing his thrusts and pulling himself out. Klaus let her rest against the car for a moment, grinning as another car went by and offering a finger wave to the passengers.
He hummed to himself as he pulled his trousers back up and grabbed his belt from the floor. He fixed himself up before picking up on the sniffles of his omega. He frowned and noticed her still over the car, he quickly lifted her up.
“Sweetheart” he whispered, his hand cupping face to see the tears gathered in her eyes. “Oh dear” he uttered, quickly pulling her face to his neck again and kissing her forehead “what’s wrong omega? Does it sting?” He questioned and she shook her head
“My mother’s going to be so mad” she whispered, looking to her underwear that resided on the dirty road. Klaus smiled gently and pet her cheek
“No she won’t my love, she’ll be very proud of what a good girl you’ve been for your alpha” he told her and she sniffed “I’m gonna get rid of those worthless parents of yours my lovely, and then you’re going to stay with me forever” he whispered “gonna look after you and our babies, bet you’ll give me strong alpha pups” he cooed and she smiled slightly while wiping her eyes.
“my alpha?” She whispers quietly and he nods
“All yours little one, yours forever” he confirms as he carries her back into the car and sits her on his lap. “Gonna have to buy you so many dresses my lovely, and so many pairs of panties for me to rip up” he teased and she blushed. He stroked her hair gently with one hand while the other drove the car back to his mansion.
His siblings only smiled as he walked past them with her hidden in his arms, he took her up the stairs and into an empty room. He opened the wardrobe in the corner and dozens of soft materials fell out. Her eyes sparkled at the sight and he set her down on her feet
“You stay here and build your pretty nest and I’ll go take care of your parents okay sweet omega?” He smiled and she nodded with a bright smile as she grabbed one of the fleeces.
He kissed the top of her head before jogging down the stairs to sort everything out for his little omega to live a safe and happy life.
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screwitbaby · 2 months ago
Text
naive
hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)
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day 2/7
summary: this is part two of my short story about the boys’ trip to curaçao (read the other one first, or don’t). hamzah’s getting you all riled up and mandy and martin begin to notice his unusual behavior with you.
contains: SFW content
wc: 2k-ish
~
You wake up to an empty bed and some part of you feels disheartened at the sight. The only evidence of Hamzah ever being there is the indent in the pillow and the shorts he borrowed folded neatly atop the mattress. You sit up to stretch, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 10:02 and you decide to get dressed.
When you grab your phone on the way out, you see a text message light up your screen.
morning :)
Your fingers hover over the keyboard, but before you can type out your reply, a pair of large hands grab your shoulders and you nearly launch into the ceiling.
"Fuck—Hamzah!"
He cackles at your scream. You slap his arm, immediately shutting him up as he rubs the spot to soothe it.
"Dumbass," you grumble.
"Good morning to you, too." The grin on his face doesn't fade for a second.
"Whatever.” You shut the front door and walk down the hallway alongside him. “When did you wake up?”
"'Round 9,” he yawns out. "Martin called me back and we got the room situation sorted."
He pulls his new key card out of his wallet and holds it between his fingers to show you. “Nice.”
Upon finding the hotel pool already chock-full of people, the two of you decide to meet Mandy and Martin at a restaurant they told Hamzah they'd be at. The GPS on your phone’s map gives you a hard time and you nearly walk into oncoming traffic with your nose deep in the screen. Hamzah reaches out to grab your forearm and pulls you back right as a taxi flies by.
"That was way too close," he says. Both of you breathe heavily at the realization that it could've ended way worse. "I think I know where it’s at anyway, just follow me."
"Sorry," you apologize, blushing. He smiles and shakes his head to dismiss your embarrassment. His hand stays on the middle of your back as he leads the rest of the way. The sparks you feel from his touch can hardly be ignored.
You get seated in a booth with the couple, who have already ordered some appetizers in anticipation of your arrival. The four of you dig into some sort of steamed veggie dish and catch up.
"Martin kept me up all night," Mandy says.
"Yeah, I got stamina." Martin nonchalantly shrugs.
"No, you literally passed out the moment you went to bed." She rolls her eyes. "I had to check if he was breathing, like, 5 times."
"She got yo lying ass, boy," Hamzah says, laughing with you. "I think I was snoring all night. Those drinks had me messed up."
"You weren't," you assure him.
"How do you know that?" Martin diverts the attention to you.
"Because someone was dead asleep and couldn't help his best friend get back into his hotel room," Hamzah replies pointedly. Martin sinks into his seat and takes a bite of food while pouting.
"So, you guys were stuck in the same bed?" Mandy asks, genuinely interested. "How'd that go?"
"It was—"
"We were—"
You look at each other and you nod your head, gesturing for him to talk first. He nods back and places his hand on your knee under the table before continuing. Your heart leaps to your throat.
"We were watching some show in Dutch that we couldn't understand until we knocked out."
"That's it?" This earns Martin a light smack on the arm from Mandy and a fiery glare from you.
"Was it the one with the bald dad and the ginger kids?"
"Yeah, how'd you—?"
"I watched it with Martin's mom the day before we came. It’s pretty popular here."
Hamzah's hand is still on your knee, occasionally running his thumb over your skin like it's the most natural thing in the world. You try to be attentive and contribute to the conversation, but it's a struggle when your mind is constantly wandering. When the waiter comes to take your orders, you choose something random off the menu because you were too lost in thought. You’re starting to think you need to be spayed because of how much this affects you.
"I can't believe we have to leave in a week," Hamzah says. You look up from the table.
"Don't remind me," you groan.
"I miss Rudy," Mandy admits with a sigh, "and Fish and Carl, of course."
"Every parent has their favorites.” Martin shrugs.
Your food arrives after some more chatter. Hamzah's hand leaves the spot on your thigh he’d slowly worked up to and you feel like you can breathe again. This trip has made you guys a lot closer than you ever anticipated, but it makes you wonder how things will be once you get back home.
“Wanna bite?” Hamzah whispers to only you. “It’s pretty good.”
“Lemme try.” You pluck a piece of omelette from his plate and bite into it. “Yum. Try mine.”
He shovels a scoop of your yogurt bowl into his mouth and hums. “Let’s split?”
“Yes, please.”
The meal ends with Martin paying for Mandy and Hamzah paying for you, in a surprise turn of events. You try to fight him back on it, but once he swipes his card without a word you know it's settled.
"All that YouTube money has gone to your head," you joke.
"I got fat stacks."
"Ew." You and Mandy cringe.
The couple walks ahead of you up the street and the two of you walk side by side.
"Was that alright?" Hamzah asks once the others are out of earshot.
"What do you mean?"
"Y'know, me paying." He nudges your shoulder. "It felt like the right thing to do."
"It did?" you ask, a smile growing on your face. "I didn't mind it."
"Good, good..." He walks with his hands in his pockets, kicking a rock every couple of steps.
"I actually thought it was cute."
He exhales through his nose, smiling at the ground. "Was it?"
"Yeah." You nod. "Thanks, Hamzah."
"No biggie."
You scrunch up your face and he laughs once he sees your expression. His laughter could cure even the most fatal illnesses, you're convinced. You take steps in unison for a bit—right, left, right, left—until he clears his throat to speak again.
"And, um," he starts, licking his lips. "When I put my hand on your leg..."
"Mhm?" You enjoy seeing the way his face contorts as he tries to find his words.
"Was that... alright, too?"
"I didn't mind it," you repeat.
He shakes his head and this time it's your turn to laugh. The tips of his ears turn red under his hat, making your heart pound at the sight. He fixes the hat tighter on his head and you fight the urge to tuck one of his stray curls behind his ear. Instead, you find that your feet lead you closer to his side, your fingertips brushing past his ever so slightly.
The couple eventually stops at a building and the two of you rush to catch up.
"We made it, kids," Martin says with a smile once you reach them.
"An art museum?" Hamzah questions as he reads the sign at the door. "Are we museum people?"
"We are now," Martin says, turning to walk inside.
"He's been talking about this since we landed," Mandy explains. "C'mon, guys."
Your group enters the museum and you look around at the historic paintings and sculptures from various Curaçaoan artists. Any and all doubt is washed from your mind as you make your way through the space, carefully observing art you haven't had the pleasure of seeing before. Hamzah follows close by, never straying too far as to not miss the way you react to each piece with 'oo's and 'ah's.
"Here's what we came for!" Martin points at a painting in the corner.
You walk closer and catch sight of a beautiful beach landscape. There's bright green shrubbery in the forefront, leading up to a peachy-toned sunset with tropical birds flying in the background. Mandy excuses herself to check out the gift shop and Martin huddles the three of you together.
"One day, I'm gonna propose to her here," he whispers. His finger traces the plaque below the canvas. You'd been to this beach the day you touched ground in Curaçao. It was the first thing you guys did, even before checking in at the hotel.
"Martin," you gasp, eyes wide. He shushes you and you lower your voice. "That's so sweet, oh my god."
"She walked right by it," he beams. "She has no clue."
"That's great, man." Hamzah clasps his hand on Martin's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "She'll love it, for sure."
"I can't believe I'm gonna be a maid of honor," you squeal as quietly as you can. Martin shushes you again but you can barely contain your excitement, turning to Hamzah to find his eyes already on you.
"What makes you so sure it'll be you?" he teases.
"It will be." You raise your eyebrows, challenging him to say otherwise.
"As long as I can be best man."
You take a couple pictures of Martin standing next to the painting with his thumbs up, narrowly avoiding Hamzah's photobombing attempts. When you finally walk away, Martin motions for you both to zip your lips. You mime crossing your heart and make your way to the gift shop.
There's shelves of souvenirs with prints of the art pieces from the museum, as well as some nearby tourist attractions that you recognize from visiting recently. You get to the jewelry section and run your fingers across the array of bangles and necklaces, hearing how they jingle as they move. Once you get to the end of the table, you notice a reddish-brown beaded bracelet.
"'Handmade,'" you mumble, reading the tag.
Hamzah stops close by your turned back and sees what's caught your attention from over your shoulder. "What's that?"
"Isn't it pretty?" You slip the bracelet onto your wrist and hold it up to show him. He grabs another one, doing the same.
Mandy suddenly calls for you and you walk over to her.
"I want this book so bad." She holds up a leather bound book with golden letters on the front, flipping through the pages to reveal photographs of nearby landmarks. "Wouldn't it look cute on our coffee table?"
“We have so much stuff from this trip already—“ Martin starts, but upon seeing Mandy’s glare, agrees.
You conclude that married life would suit them very well.
Your group loiters around the museum until you've seen everything it has to offer, snapping a few pics of your favorites along the way. Hamzah volunteers to take a few aesthetic photos of you, but when you get your phone back, your camera roll is full of him making funny faces. You know you’ll get him back for it eventually.
The four of you make it halfway back to the hotel when you look down and realize the bracelet is still on your wrist. You halt in the middle of the sidewalk and curse at the wind.
"Guys," you call out, making them stop as well. "I'll meet you there, I forgot to put this bracelet back."
"You stole?" Martin exaggerates. "Dang it, now we're all accomplices!"
"Say it louder, why don't you?" You roll your eyes, turning on your heels to walk back up the street.
"YOU STO—"
Hamzah slaps his palm across his friend's mouth, "I got it, don't worry."
"What?" You turn back.
He holds his free hand up and shakes the bracelet on his wrist. "I paid already. You don't have to go back."
You part your lips, but no words come out.
Mandy and Martin share a glance with each other, him mumbling something unintelligible. Hamzah drops his hands and fidgets with his hat.
"I feel bad," you finally say, your cheeks warming up uncontrollably. "You're too nice."
"I wish I had a sugar daddy," Martin complains. You collectively ignore him.
"Thank you, Hamzah," you say with a smile. "I appreciate it."
"You liked the bracelet, so..." He shrugs it off.
The walk back to the hotel commences and you feel your pulse thumping with each step. Once again, the couple get ahead of you two, but that’s fine by you. Mandy turns a few times to make eye contact with you and raise her eyebrows ridiculously. You just shake your head and try not to grin too hard.
The weather is muggy and the sun is beaming on your heads, but Hamzah’s warm hand finds yours despite it all. Your bracelets graze each other and you wordlessly make a pact to not let go.
~
a/n: u get what u want in the next part ya filthy animals!!! also sorry i took so long, i’m still not 100% happy w how this turned out but i wanted to pump something out before u guys start chasing me w wooden stakes and pitchforks :-)
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erideights · 1 year ago
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Little pieces here and there (3)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, two, four, five
Word Count: around 2K again.
Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times
A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)
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Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.
Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.
Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.
That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.
(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.
Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.
Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.
Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?
Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.
After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.
At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.
"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."
Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.
"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.
"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."
"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.
"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.
"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.
"Take a guess"
"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"
The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.
His eyes darken, and his voice goes octaves lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."
She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.
He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.
"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."
By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.
At least until they reach Arlong Park.
Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.
Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.
A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.
She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.
Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.
The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.
Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.
Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.
It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--
And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.
"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.
‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’
And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.
Bastard.
''You better'', she whispers to herself.
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nieceeee · 15 days ago
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ONYANKOPON MASTERLIST
My one stop shop for this fine chocolate man. Content in purple is NSFW so minors DNI please and thank you!
UPDATED: 12/11/24
SERIES:
BESTFRIEND!ONY X READER
"ALWAYS MINE"
-bestfriend!ony x reader, your friends are confused on exactly how far this relationship goes. And it doesn’t help that they come over and you’re walking out of his bedroom
"BESTFRIENDS"
-Bestfriend!ony x reader have been friends for years. They do everything together from matching outfits to matching tattoos. But is Ony getting to close to his friend?
“SOUNDS OF FRIENDSHIP”
-PS: Bestfriend!ony always sneaks and checks on you every night as a part of his nighttime routine. But this one night, Ony hears something he definitely shouldn’t have. Yet, he can’t seem to pull himself away.
“GOOD MORNING BEST FRIEND”
P/S: What happens the next morning after you and Ony's encounter...
"WANNA BE"
P/S: “Not trynna hear you tell nobody that I’m just a friend. Just trynna make sure I’m the body that you call your man…” Ony is your best friend and its been that way for years. He was your safe haven as much as you were his. You've always shared a connection with one another that many didn't understand. But recently Ony has been struggling with his feelings for you. Things that he used to feel don't quite feel the same anymore. And he's forced to come to terms with reality...
ONE SHOTS:
"ALL THE THINGS"- Boyfriend Ony- angst, fluff, smut
- P/S: Most of your life your relationships have been transactional. You learned early on that nothing you get comes for free, especially with me. It was always a give and take. So when you got with Ony, you expected the same things. For every gift he got you, you made sure to double it because that's how the game goes right? Well Ony wasn't having that. He was going to get it through to you by any means necessary...
"For The 1st Time"- Arranged marriage- angst, fluff
-P/S: You knew that this was your destiny. From the time you were born. Ony knew it as well. But the problem...neither of you knew each other. Ony was set to be one of the most powerful men in his industry and to solidify that, your father promised you to him. But how the hell was he supposed to marry someone he's never met...
"My Little Secret"- Ony x reader - angst, smut
-You and Ony had never really solidified your relationship with one another. It was all "my man my man my man" when yall were alone but in public, nobody knew the dirty little secret you shared. Not even Ony's little girlfriend. So when he pulls up to the party with her on his arm, will you be able to keep that secret under wraps? If he doesn't tell, you won't tell..
"SPIN"- ony x reader - smut
-"Ass or tits?" was the question asked of him. "Titties all day. Yall can keep that other shit." Ony has always been an assertive man. He knew what he liked and what he didn't like. He knew what turned him on and what he pulled away from. He was always certain in his decisions. That was until you came along. The moment you stepped into his life, everything Ony swore he wasn't interested in was flipped upside down...
"MATTERS OF THE HEART" - fluff
-"pro athlete character who gets featured on a tiktok for the team where the social media manager asks to see what’s in the players’ lockers. he opens up his and everyone is shocked to see stick figure drawings from y’alls kids & printed out selfies of him, you, and your kids. the domestic display is so different from his in-game personality that it almost feels like a prank, but when questioned further, he just tells the viewers, “my locker is full of reminders for who im playing and winning for."
DRABBLES:
"ITS 7PM FRIDAY" - Ony's reaction to you singing Gloriila TGIF
"BOUNDARIES" - Bestfriend!ony who doesn’t know the meaning of personal boundaries and by doesn’t know I mean he doesn’t give two fucks.
"PERIOD PROBLEMS" - How your best friend acts when you're on your period.
SMAU:
"GIVE ME 5" "PT 2" - The guys are wondering what's taking Ony so long to get on the game.
"SEND ME MY BABY" - Ony wants pics of his baby girl
“PICS OR IT DIDNT HAPPEN” - You're wondering where your man went. Turns out he was just was just at the gym...
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0cta9on · 8 months ago
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Can you do a fluffy smut fic of IVE's Wonyoung? In the fic, she is madly in love with her older manager whom has been by her side since her trainee days and loved her like his own little sister. Then she heard about his decision to transfer to another agency and began to panic. She begged him not to leave and confessed to him. However, OC rejected her due to the fear of destroying their close bond. WY eventually succeed in reassuring him of her love and both of them ended up making out.(OC is 5-6 years older than WY, hence the brother-sister dynamic relationship)
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For the past three years, you served as the manager for the girl group sensation IVE, and you’ve loved every single second of it. The girls are cute and almost immediately started treating you like an older brother, which you gladly accepted. You’ve been a shoulder for them to cry on when things get tough and thanks to the pretty decent Starship Entertainment check, you often bought them little treats to tide them over in between schedules. They were like your little family - six little sisters that you love like they’re your own blood. Unfortunately, you might be saying bye to your little family soon.
Your footsteps echo along the corridor of Starship’s building as you pace nervously back and forth. As your contract with the company runs out, others have been reaching out and offering manager positions to you. Nothing has interested you so far, mainly just offers from small companies looking for an experienced manager to take care of their rookie groups. That is, until this morning, when you received a ludicrous offer from a larger company that would set you up for the rest of your life. You would be a fool not to take it - but that would also mean leaving behind the girls you have cared for all these years. 
A sudden jab to the side of the ribs makes you jump. “Jesus Christ, what th-” You turn around to face the perpetrator, only to see Wonyoung laughing at you.
“You should see your face oppa, that was hilarious!” She exclaims. Normally, you would laugh along and scold her playfully, but the thought of having to break the news about your potential departure fills you with an overwhelming sense of dread.
“What’s wrong, oppa?” Wonyoung asks, noticing your uncharacteristically serious expression.
Out of all the girls, Wonyoung is the one you’ve known the longest. You first met her when she was preparing for Produce 48, and you watched her grow and mature ever since. To outsiders, she is the epitome of success, but you know better than anyone just how much pain she’s experienced to get to this level. With how strong your bond is, you can’t even imagine how much it would crush her to tell her that you’re leaving.
You relinquish a heavy sigh deep within your lungs. “L-look, I-” The words struggle to make themselves known, writhing inside your gut as you stare deep into Wonyoung’s concerned eyes. Without another thought, you pull her into a tight embrace, more for yourself than for her.
“Hey, it’s okay, oppa,” she soothes, rubbing your back. “You can tell me.”
You instinctively tighten your grip on her, afraid that this’ll be the last time you get to hold her like this. “I got an offer this morning… from another company. The salary they’re offering would help me out a lot, so I-”
“You’re leaving?!” Wonyoung pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes. It feels like a knife stabs you in the heart as you stare back at her teary gaze.
“Y-yeah, I am…” You utter regretfully. She fights back a sob as she hits your chest, hurting your soul more than it does your actual body.
“B-but you can’t leave!”
“I’m sorry, Wonyoung, but Starship-”
“Screw Starship! What about IVE? What about me?” Tears begin to flow uncontrollably down her cheeks. All those years of consoling her and being by her side, yet the one time she needs you the most is when you’re about to leave her. Being the cause of her tears hurts you more than you’ll ever know.
“Wonyoung, I-”
“I love you!” She exclaims, glaring through her misty eyes.
“I love you guys too, but-”
“NO!” Her voice echoes loudly through the corridor, pushing you back a few steps. Always the epitome of prim and proper, you have never seen Wonyoung scream like this. A deep, unspoken ache reflects in her eyes as you start putting the pieces together. 
“I-I… I love you… Like, really love you… I want to be with you a-and hold you tightly… I want to kiss you and feel like I’m the only woman for you… I-I just… I love you so, so much… You can’t leave me like this…”
You freeze in disbelief, unsure of what to think or feel about her sudden confession. You always made sure not to develop any feelings for the girls as that could end up badly for the both of you. However, you can’t deny that you’ve been seeing Wonyoung differently as of late. The way she carries herself with such professionalism and confidence, how hard she words behind the scenes for herself and for the rest of IVE, you can truly see just how beautiful of a person she is, both inside and out. Taking this job would be the chance of a lifetime, but a person like Wonyoung only comes around once in a lifetime. You would be a fool to let her go.
You gently cup her cheeks, wiping away her tears with your thumbs. “It’s okay, Wonyoung. I’m not going anywhere.” She breaks down and begins sobbing into your chest. Your mind suddenly feels lighter now that you’ve made up your mind. In fact, you almost feel ridiculous for almost choosing money over the family that you found three years ago.
“You’re really not going to leave?” Wonyoung asks you after calming down a bit. You shake your head, a hopeful smile growing on your face, before she wraps her arms around your head, pressing her lips against yours. Subconsciously, you have been waiting for this kiss for years and you aren’t about to let it go so easily. The scent of her strawberry shampoo combined with her soft, marshmallow lips brings you to a new high you’ve never experienced before.
As you break the kiss, the heartbroken girl is swiftly replaced by the bright and lovely Wonyoung that you’re used to. She giggles as you kiss her cheeks, getting rid of any leftover tears. Suddenly, Wonyoung takes your hand, a mischievous twinge in her eye further emphasized by an alluring bite in her lip.
“Since you’re not leaving anymore, I think we should celebrate. Come with me,” she says before dragging you along the corridor. She peeks through one of the doors before pulling you inside, locking the door behind her. As you look around the small room, you notice a bunch of foam padding lining the walls, along with a piano and a couple chairs.
“This is one of the solo vocal practice rooms,” she explains. “No one outside will be able to hear us, no matter how loud we are.” A lightbulb goes off in your head as you turn to her, both shocked and turned on. Wonyoung’s cheeks turn a light pink as you look her up and down.
“I-I mean, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want-” You stop her, bringing a finger to her lips.
“I want to do it. I want you,” you assure her. She smiles brightly as she pulls you in for another kiss, this one much steamier than the other. Your hands snake around her petite waist, bringing her as close as you physically can. Her gentle breath starts to get heavier, gracing your cheeks, and the warmth in your chest continues to grow until it threatens to burst from your skeleton. You want nothing more than to love this girl as much and as hard as you can, pushing her into the padded wall with the fervor of a new sun on an early morning.
Wonyoung strokes your cock over your jeans, teasing you with her fingertips. You respond in kind by grazing her thigh with your fingernails, causing her body to shiver beneath you. You break the kiss and rest your forehead against hers to catch your breath, the final look before the leap. She gazes at you with fondness and desire, and you feel lucky knowing you’re the only man that will ever receive that look from her. Tentatively, she unzips your pants, audibly gasping as she looks upon your cock for the first time, unintentionally inflating your ego. You watch with bated breath as Wonyoung kneels in front of you, slowly stroking you with her soft hands and placing gentle kisses along your length, staining it with her lip gloss.
“Does that feel good, oppa?” She asks, searching for approval.
“Yes, that feels so good, baby,” you moan, brushing your hands through her silky hair.
“Mmm, I like it when you call me baby. Keep saying it.” Wonyoung flashes you a smile before taking you into her mouth, making you shiver like the first time you step into a cold pool. Her thick, glossy lips eagerly sucking your cock combined with her big, round eyes looking up at you brings you to all new heights of arousal.
“Holy shit baby, you’re amazing,” you compliment. In response, Wonyoung plants her hands on your thighs, attempting to take your entire length down her throat at once, her gags filling the entire room. You almost feel bad for the people walking by who don’t get to hear this beautiful chorus reserved for you.
Eventually, Wonyoung stumbles backwards, choking for air as saliva drips down her chin. She reaches for your hand, and you gladly help her up, anticipating what will happen next. With a wink, she plants her hands against the wall, sticking her ass out towards you. Her warm yet seductive gaze pulls you in, promising a moment you’ll never forget.
“I’ve waited for this moment for so long,” she says, biting her lip. You flip up her skirt, revealing her cute ass for the first time, and peel off her damp panties. The scent of her dripping sex fills your brain, drawing you towards her even more. As you slowly insert yourself into her, you gauge Wonyoung’s reaction, making sure you’re not hurting her.
“Is that okay, baby?” You whisper into her ear. She nods, wincing slightly.
“S-so good, keep going.”
You hold onto her waist for support, eventually bottoming out inside of her. Her warm walls grasp you tightly, still adjusting to your size. After a moment, Wonyoung nods, prompting you to start thrusting into her. Slow yet firm at first, as her moans begin to escalate, you increase the power of your thrusts until it devolves into pure, unbridled pounding.
“A-ah! Yes! F-feels so g-good!” She groans in pleasure. “K-kiss me!”
You do as she says, capturing her lips into a sloppy kiss as you continue fucking her from behind. You exchange breaths, warming up each other’s skin, filling your nostrils with each other’s pheromones. In your mind, nothing else matters except making love to the woman before you. You want to spend the rest of your life loving her in every way you can, and when you’ve done it all, you want to invent new ways of loving just so you can show her how much she means to you. A familiar pressure begins to build up in your stomach as you gaze into Wonyoung’s eyes, half-lidded as she succumbs to your passion. You take her lips a final time before shooting your seed deep into her womb, cementing your bond forever. She follows soon after, nearly collapsing as her orgasm renders her legs into jelly.
“O-oh my god… That was better than I imagined,” she says. The two of you share a gentle laugh, holding onto her with no intention of letting her go ever again.
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charlesswife · 1 year ago
Text
Una Noche En Monaco v
unem masterlist
5 Dias De Prueba (5-day trial)
pairing: charles leclerc x latina! reader
summary: after a one night stand between you and Charles, he continues on with his formula one career. until two months later, you come back claiming to be pregnant with his child.
word count: 7.6k - not proofread.
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April 2023
"Do you wanna come to the next race? I can get you tickets, you can be my guest."
His words replayed in my head like a broken record. Why would I be interested into going to the race in the first place?
As I opened the door of my apartment I was greeted by the smell of something sweet.
I checked the time on my watch. 9:45 pm.
"Isn't it late to be baking Naughty Brownies?" I called from the entrance. I heard a small "Oh no" from Mateo and a "Busted" from Steph.
I heard Mateo's footsteps around the kitchen, "Tia you have to hide me."
"Okay, okay."
As I entered the kitchen, I saw one of the floor cabinets a little open. Steph had a smile on her face.
"Why is Mati awake?" I asked her. I heard a small gasp coming from the cabinet.
"Awake? He's not awake. He's in his bed with Percy." Steph answered, holding her laugh. Just as she said that Percy walked into the kitchen wagging his tail. I petted his face and he licked my hand, then he walked to the slightly open cabinet and stuck his head inside.
Mateo tried to push him away with his tiny hands. "Go away, you're gonna get me caught." He said in a serious tone, the Rottweiler started to lick him as well. In the end, the cabinet door opened, leaving Mateo in full display.
"Oh, Mati. I didn't know that was your new bed. Should've told me before I bought you that big bed you have." I said as I brought the brownie to my lips. Steph loves having slutty brownies before bed, but ever since Mateo was born, we had to change the name to naughty brownies.
He stayed quiet for a second, his green eyes started to gloss. "Am I in trouble?"
He is so cute, I wanted to laugh for a second. "No, mi amor. Come out so you can have a piece and go to bed."
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When my mom was alive, she used to say 'When in doubt, leave your destiny in the hands of a coin, flip it and carry on' and while usually I would do it, sometimes I wish she was here to tell me what to do.
Heads - I go to the GP
Tails - I stay
I was never good at flipping coins. All the time I flip it and let it drop to the floor. So that is what I did. I didn’t dare to look down, at least not until the coin stopped circling around the floor.
I picked up the coin. This is my destiny and so be it.
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The next day I decided to meet up with Charles, to tell him my answer.
I expect our meeting to be short and easy, so I told him to meet me at a parking lot. It sounds very sketchy now that I think about it.
I saw his car once I got into the parking, I tried to open the door but it was locked - which made sense - I knocked on his window and when he finally saw me he unlocked the door and I got in.
Europeans kiss both cheeks to say hi, and in my culture, we do it just once. But I am not in my country and I do not want to say hi to Charles, let alone kiss me. So when his body approached mine to greet me with kisses I stopped him. His body was close enough that I smelled his perfume. It smelled like a drug... very addicting to the point I wanted t smell more.
"Sorry," he murmured. "It's a habit." he tried to explain.
"Yeah, whatever." I responded. "This is what's going to happen. We are not co-parenting. Mateo is my son, so you don't get a say here. If you really say that you are ready to be a man and be responsible and be a father, that's fine, but you have to prove it. I will decide when is the right time to tell my son you're his father," I saw his Adam's apple go up a bit as if he was nervous.
"His name is Mateo?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"With one T?" My heart stopped for a second. The last time we spoke, he told me he saw a kid in the car, but he never said he met Mateo or even spoke with him to the point he knows his name is with one t.
"How did you know-?"
"Is it really?" his voice was higher this time. "I met him. At the bookstore. And I- I- I felt this connection the moment I saw him, and I asked his name and he said 'Mateo with one T'" His smile is so wide that I wondered for a second if his cheeks hurt.
I stared at him. I don't know if I should curse him out, or simply get out of the car and forget this meeting ever happen, because how dare he say he felt a 'connection'. He's full of shit. "Don't ever say that again. Especially not in front of me. You don't have a connection, you don't know him. I don't know which god or angel is on your side to the point that you found us and you even talked to him. I'm nice enough to actually give you a second chance, but I have my limits, so you better be careful with the things you say."
I took my phone out and opened the Calendar app. "Today is the 19th and most likely you have to be in Baku on the 25th. So you have five days you can spend with Mateo, with me present, of course. If you want to spend time with him, that is."
"Yes! Sorry, yes. Of course." He nodded. "Is it possible to have a dinner with my family? I want my family to know you and Mateo. They don't... they don't really know about any of this,"
"Your family doesn't know about us?" Us meaning Mateo and me, not Charles and I. He shaked his head. "I wouldn't be too worried about your family. If I were you, I would be more concerned about how the public would react to this. The truth will come out sooner or later, and God knows what they are going to say."
His face was blank. He knew I was right, or maybe he was thinking that I would release the information to the public. "I'll protect him. No matter what."
I wanted to say a sarcastic comment but I didn't want to. At least just for today. I saw the way his eyes became a bit red when I told him he doesn't have a connection with Mateo.
He cleared his throat a bit and then he looked me in the eyes. Oh, his big green eyes. "I just want to thank you, for giving me a chance. I will prove to you that I am worthy of you and Mateo." Why is he talking this way?
I texted him the address of my apartment, once it got sent I said, "That's my address, be there at 9:30"
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Thursday 20th - Charles' POV
Am I early? Will she be mad that I am early? I stand in front of her door, debating whether I should knock or come back in thirty minutes. Just as I was about to leave the door open.
"Okay, Mati, see you later!" The woman said as she stepped out, she turned around and faced me. "Oh," she looked at her watch and said, "shouldn't you be here in thirty minutes?"
"Yeah, um I wasn't- um I was going to come back in a bit," I said.
"There's no point, you are already here so I might as well let you in. Just go inside and wait, and whatever you do, don't open the curtains." She opened the door again and pushed me inside.
The inside of her apartment was nice, but it makes me wonder how she can afford the place if she only works at a bookstore. I got into the kitchen first, it has an open area that leads to the living room. The tv was on showing a cartoon of what it looked to be a blue cat. On the kitchen counter, I saw what looked to be a tiramisu. I tried to be strong but I am weak when it comes to a good tiramisu.
I quickly found what I needed, a knife, a spoon, and a plate. I don't think Y/n would notice if it just take one tiny little piece. I got ready to cut and I heard someone say.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I looked up and saw him. Mateo. He was beautiful. He made his way toward one of the couches shaped like an L and sat there. "My mami is very protective over her tirmisu and only lets me eat the tirmisu," he said as he mispronounced the name of the dessert, he then looked at me. "You're the guy from the store."
"You remember me?" I asked hopefully.
"I remember you are the guy from the store," he said like it was the most obvious thing.
"Do you remember my name?"
He was quiet for a second. "No, should I?"
His comment did make me sad for a second but then he let out the biggest gap and came running towards me, he put his arms up. "Lift me up,"
My heart is beating so fast, I lifted him up and secured him in my arms. Up close I could see the freckles on his nose, he looks a lot like me. He looked around the kitchen and then he pointed to the microwave. "Take me there. Go, go." Once I did what he asked, he opened the door of the microwave, and inside was a plate of brownies. He took two pieces out and closed the door. "Okay, put me down. Down" He started to squirm in my arms. Once I put him down on the floor, he looked at the brownies in his hands and gave me the smallest piece. "Thank you for the help" He then ran back to the couch to sit down. In front of him was a coffee table, there was paper and crayons all over it.
"Where's your mommy?" I asked him.
"Probably with Percy," he said, without pulling his eyes away from the TV. Who's Percy?
"Do you wanna see my drawing? My mami says I'm the next Picasso," he left the brownie on one side of the table and got one of the papers. I walked to the couch and saw the paper. It was a big house, 4 figure sticks and a small black figure with four legs. "This is Mami," he pointed at the tall figure stick, "This is my tia Steph," he pointed at the second tall figure stick, probably the woman that let me in, "This is me and my brother," he pointed at the two small figure sticks. Brother? He has a brother? "And this is my dog, and this is my new house, but they are building it right now so we live here."
"This is really good Mateo," I complimented him, but my thought are on the brother he mentioned.
"I know, you can have it. I'll sign it for you. Mami says I have to sign all my art so people know I made it," he explained as he grabbed the black crayon.
"Your mom is a smart woman,"
"How do you know mami?" he asked. "If you are the bad man that wants to take me away from mami I won't let you have the drawing. I don't like bad people that want to hurt mami."
"I'm not bad, I promise. I'm a nice person."
"Okay!" He wrote his name on the paper and then grabbed his brownie. "Are you my papi?" he looked at me.
"What?" my eyes widen.
"Yes. Are you my papi? If you're not bad, and you know my mom, then are you my daddy?"
How is this four-year-old so smart and how do I even respond to that? Before I could say anything, someone interrupted me. "Mati! Come here so I can put sunscreen on your pretty face." He got off the couch and went running into the hallway.
I grabbed the paper and stared at it. Did she have another child with someone else after me?
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Y/n's POV
Mateo came running into the bathroom and the first thing he did was rub his face against Percy and give him kisses. "No, Mateo no beses al perro, mi amor. Ahora te tengo que lavar la cara otra vez." (No, Mateo, don't kiss the god, my love. Now I have to wash your face again.)
"Percy es tan tierno que solo le quiero dar besitos, mami" (Percy is so cute that I only want to give him kisses)
"Well you are cute too and you don't see me giving you kisses all do time," I said as I washed his face.
"You do give me kisses Mommy." he laughed.
"Alright, that's enough. I'm going to put sunscreen on you." I put sunscreen on my three fingers. "Where do we put sunscreen?"
"On the faceeeee" he said. "On the neeeeeck, y en las orejaaaas" (in the ears) I laughed at the way he explained it. Once I was done putting on the sunscreen, we both walked out of the bathroom and into the living room.
I started to open the curtains.
"Mami this man tried to eat your tirmisu" Mateo said. I turned around and saw Charles sitting on my couch with a brownie on his lips, just frozen, like when Mateo gets caught doing something he shouldn't.
As he was chewing, he said, "I um- I was, Wow these brownies are good. I didn't eat your tiramisu."
"So you eat my brownies instead?" I asked.
"NO no, no. Mateo gave me one."
That wasn't surprising. "Who is he?" Mateo asked.
"He is a friend," I said. "He is going away soon so he's going to hang out with us for some days. Do you like that?"
"Okay! Then he has to meet Percy!" he ran off to the hallway again. I looked at Charles.
He looked like he wanted to tell me a lot of stuff, and ask me a bunch of questions.
"How long have you been here?" I asked.
"Um, maybe like 10 minutes? Your friend let me in and then Mateo got me the brownie and this drawing," he showed me the paper. It was all of us, the house, Steph and I, my two babies, and my dog. "You look really pretty, by the way. Your boyfriend must be very lucky," Boyfriend? "I thought you only had Mateo, you didn't mention having a second child," he murmured the last part as he ate the last piece of the brownie. He thinks...
Before I could answer, Mateo came running back, "Look! This is my little dog, Percy!" Little is an understatement since Percy is a four-year-old Rottweiler. When the dog came into the living room, Charles got up and backed away.
"Mateo, I don't think Charles likes Percy." I told him.
"Why not?" he looked at Charles while his lips quivered.
"No, no. I love Percy! Percy is a good boy!" I know he wouldn't dare to pet the dog.
"Mati, grab your bag, we have to go." As he walked back to his room, Charles said.
"Did you name your dog Percy as in Perceval?"
"Don't flatter yourself, I named him after a book character."
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At the end of the day, Mateo was tired. Reasonable. He was very entertained by all of the stuff the museum had to offer. But one moment kept replaying in my head.
My phone went off, remaining me to reapply sunscreen on Mateo, as I was applying some on his face I saw Charles, and how his face was a bit red.
"Do you not wear sunscreen?" I asked him.
He shrugged, "Only when I'm on the beach," he responded.
I gasped, and for a moment my mother self kicked in, "Charles, your face is red. Jesus, come here," Once he got close to me, I put the sunscreen on three of his fingers so he could apply it himself. He rubbed the sunscreen on his hands and started to rub it on his face.
"Acaso eres un animal?" (Are you an animal?) I told him as I stopped him from doing more damage to his skin. "You can't rub your face like that," I explained as I spread the sunscreen on his face, "You put on your face, on your neck y en las orejas," (and the ears) I murmured. Once I was done, I realized what I did and how close we were to each other.
“Is he going to meet Jules?” Mateo came out of nowhere. 
We visit Jules every week, I was planning to visit him once the day was over with Charles. 
“Who’s Jules?” Charles asked. 
“He’s my brother!” 
I looked at Charles for a second. He has no idea he’s one step closer to the truth, at least a part of it. 
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Friday 21st
I had everything ready for the visit to Jules. I prepared some sandwiches and fruit to eat. The favorite snacks for Mateo and Percy. 
I loaded everything into the car, Mateo was in his baby seat with the window rolled down and I was waiting outside the car for Charles to appear. For being a Formula One driver, he is very late right now. 
“Well, I guess he’s not going to come. Maybe next time.” I told my son and his face deflated, I, on the other hand, am very happy, but that didn’t last long because Mateo pointed and something behind me. 
“He’s here!” I turned around and saw Charles with a visible line of sweat on his forehead. 
“Sorry, I’m late,” he said. 
“Don’t make it a habit,” I responded. I opened the passenger seat and said, “Get in.” He approached the door and I placed my hand on his chest to stop him. “Wasn’t talking to you,” I smirked, he looked down and saw Percy get into the seat. “You go in the back,” 
He didn’t say anything and simply did what I said. 
The drive wasn’t bad, Charles got to find out more stuff about Mateo. I, on the other hand, became more nervous the more we got closer to our destination. 
Once we got to our destination, confusion was obvious on Charles’ face. 
“Why are we-” 
“To see Jules,” I responded as I got out of the car, Charles following suit. 
I went to the back of the car and open the truck, I gave Charles the picnic basket. I opened the back seat door and took Mateo out of the car seat and set him down. I opened the passenger seat and got Percy out of the car. With my left hand, I was holding Mateo’s hand and with my right hand, I had the dog’s leash. I locked the car and we began walking. 
Charles hasn’t said anything yet, maybe he’s confused or maybe he’s just trying to process. After walking for an eternity, even though it was like seven minutes, Mateo let go of my hand and ran to our spot. I took Percy out of the leash and he went to be next to Mateo. 
As I was walking I turned around and saw Charles stuck to the floor. 
“Are you coming?” I asked, “I need the blanket that’s on the basket so we can sit down,” I continued walking. 
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Charles’ POV
Jules Alexander Y/L/N 
6th November 2018
Loved Son and Brother. 
Ahora eres una estrella mas en el cielo (now you are one more star in the sky) 
Y/n didn’t have a boyfriend or a son with someone else. She had twins and she lost one. I had twins and I lost one. I didn’t know it was possible for my heart to break even more. 
I left her alone during this horrible time. 
“Look, Jules! We brought a friend. His name is Sharls,” Mateo said excitedly to the tombstone. “We got you floweeeers, and we have shanweches to eat,” he explained. Y/n was busy setting up the blanket and taking everything out of the basket. I didn’t dare to speak, if I did I would start crying. How much has this woman handled? 
“Mi principe, porque no vas tu y Percy a jugar un ratito while Charles and I talk for a moment, okay?” (My prince, why don’t you and Percy go play for a bit) Y/n said. The kid nodded and ran with Percy somewhere a bit far but still close enough so we can see them. 
I sat down next to her, still not able to speak. “Jules was the second one to come out,” she said. “There were some complications when I gave birth to him. He passed away thirty minutes after being born. He was only alive for thirty minutes and I wasn’t even able to hold him. Originally Mateo was supposed to be Mateo Agustin, but then Jules died so I changed his name to Mateo Alexander Jules. Alexander Agustin Y/L/N was my father,” She explained. 
“And Jules?” I dared to ask, my voice breaking. 
“I may not know much about you, or your family, but I know about Jules Bianchi,” she said. “I got Percy two months later. Percy was born on the same day. I thought it was a sign,” 
“What about your family?” I asked her. 
She laughed humorlessly, “This is my family. Steph, my son, and my dog. My parents died in a car accident, then I came to Monaco to start again. Getting knocked up wasn’t part of the plan, especially when the father can die the same way my parents did. I wasn’t expecting you to be an asshole either,” 
With tears in my eyes, I said, “I am so sorry. I-” 
“Yeah, me too” 
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Y/N’s POV 
After he calmed down, I called Mateo back so we can eat. Everything was great until Charles asked me a question.
“Do you guys want to go on my boat tomorrow? Spend the day at sea?” I stopped eating and Mateo gasped loudly. 
“Can we, mami?!” 
One thing about me is that I am utterly terrified of the ocean. “No,” I said as I continued eating. 
“Mami, please, please. I’ll be good, I promise,” 
“I’m not going to be able to go with you baby,” I said.
“Why not?” he asked. 
I looked at Charles, who also had concern in his eyes. “Well, mommy has this fear of the ocean, and she doesn’t feel well, so she has to stay,” I tried to explain to him. 
I looked at Charles, who also had concern in his eyes. “Well, Mommy has this fear of the ocean, and she doesn’t feel well, so she has to stay,” I tried to explain to him. I could tell Charles wanted to say something but he didn’t dare. “If Charles promises to take great great GREAT care of you, then you can go with him,” 
“Sharls! Take care of me so I can go!” Mateo yelled excitedly. 
“Yes! Okay! Yes, I promise,” he assured me. 
On the way back to the car, I pulled Charles aside and told him. “I am trusting you with my life. Don’t fuck this up.” 
“I won’t. I promise,” 
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“Was I stupid to trust Charles into taking care of Mateo?” I asked Steph.
“No, girl. You did the right thing. He’s going to be responsable of Mateo sooner or later,” I didn’t want to admit that she was right. 
I looked at the list I made for Charles so he can take care of Mateo. There’s only three things to follow. 
i - mateo will complain about the weather no matter what
ii - he doesn’t like sodas but loves orange and cherry juices, loves chicken but hates seafood. 
iii -  don’t forget to reapply his sunscreen, don’t loose the bottle. 
“Am I missing anything else?” I asked. Steph took the note and read it. 
“Why don’t you just send it on a text? What if he looses the paper?” She asked. 
“If he doesn’t loose the paper then he’s not going to loose my child,” I responded. 
“Fair enough. I think you got it all cover. That’s pretty much it - I mean, I thought the whole point was for him to get to know Mateo on his own. Why are you making him a list?” Why am I making him a list? 
I crumbled the paper into a ball and thew it at her. “I have to get Mati ready to bath. I’ll be back,” I got up from the chair. 
“Wait! I forgot to tell you, a cute guy passed by the bookstore, asking about you,” she wiggled her eyebrows up and down, “His name is Arthuuuuur," I know who she was talking about. "I gave him your phone number. I told him you are free tomorrow so you guys can go on a date,” she giggled. 
I rolled my eyes and left the living room and went to the bathroom to get the water running. “Mateo,” I yelled, “time to take a shower,” I approached his room, once I opened the door, I saw him playing with his toys, “Come on, little guy. Gotta get you nice and clean for tomorrow,” I waited for him to get up and grabbed his hand. 
Mateo is not the best singer, he’s just a kid, but he likes to sing in the shower. Once I was done with his shower, I wrapped him in a towel and carry him to his room, while I was getting his pijama ready, he started to jump on his bed. 
“Mami, I have a question,” he said. 
“Yes?” I asked. 
“Is Sharls my daddy?” I stopped for a second and looked at him. 
“Why do you ask that, love?”
“Well, he looks like me,” I laughed at his explanation. 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Mhmm” 
“So just because he looks like you, you think he’s your daddy?” 
“Well…” he stopped jumping and his gaze fell on the floor. It looked as if the hamster in his brain was turning the wheel. “Where is my daddy?” 
I sighed. Do I lie? Do I tell the truth? Am I ready for my kid to know the reality of what happen?
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I texted Charles a little but after my shower. 
To CL: He knows. 
I heard a pin instantly. I thought it was Charles texting back but instead it was an unknown number, my eyes widen once reading the message.
From +377 3847502839: hey, this is Arthur. i hope this isn’t weird, i asked for your number to one of the girls from the store. i heard you’re free tomorrow and i want to invite you to some coffee. 
From +377 3847501839: if that’s okay with you of course. 
I added his phone on my contacts and replied “Not weird at all. I’d like to have coffee with you” I smiled a bit. 
From Arthur Cute Guy: great! see you tomorrow then ;) 
To say Mateo was excited was an underestimate, he was thrilled to spend the day with Charles. Once he got home, Mateo jumped into his arms and I think I saw his eyes tear up a bit. 
“Well,” I cleared my throat. Charles put Mateo on the floor, to pay attention to me. “I have his bag ready with towel and clothes,” I passed him his bad, which he was quick to put on his shoulder. “Have fun, and please, please don’t forget to put sunscreen on him every two hours. It’s in the front pocket of the bag. He can only use that sunscreen so for the love of god don’t lose it,” 
“I won’t.” he said. 
“Okay,” I let a long breath out, “Well, have fun,”
Mateo was tugging Charles by the arm, “Come on Sharls we have so much to talk!” I closed the door behind then and ran to my bedroom to get ready for my date. 
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“Thank you for meeting me here,” Arthur greeted me with two kisses. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind,” 
“That’s very bold of you to say,” I giggled. I looked at the menu, “Have you been to this Cafe?”
“A few times, they have good pastries,” he said. 
“Do they have a good tiramisu?” I asked as I looked at him, I feel like I have seen him before, like if I met him before our first encounter. He reminds me of someone, but who? 
“It’s good, but it’s not the best,” he told me, “I heard this popular restaurant L’Incantato,” I perked up at the name, “has the best tiramisu.” 
Curiosity got the best of me, “Have you tried it?” 
He made a disappointed face, “I wish. You would think that just because there’s three restaurants in Monaco that there would be any availability in any of them but no, it’s always packed. I can never get a reservation. I wanted to take my mom for her birthday last year but couldn’t get a seat, unfortunately.” 
I know the restaurant is always busy, and I felt a bit sad to hear he couldn’t take his mother to eat there. He’s very sweet. “Well, next time you go there. Tell them I sent you,” I winked at him. 
“What, why?” he asked. 
“You thought I would just own a bookstore? I also own all three L’Incatato restaurants,” I smiled, his eyes got so big I was wondering if they would come out of the sockets. 
“No way!” he laughed, “What are the odds?” I shrugged. “What else do I need to know about you?” he smiled. 
“Let’s get coffee first,” I said.
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Charles’ POV
Everything was quiet. 
All I could hear was the sound of the waves. 
I felt at piece. 
The piece was interrupted by the alarm going off from my phone. I turned it off and looked at Mateo, “Sunscreen time,” I said. He got up from his chair and walked to me. I looked around me but I couldn’t find the sunscreen anywhere. Where did I put it? “I can’t find the sunscreen,”
“Oh-oh,” he said. 
“I think I have another sunscreen around, wait here,” I got up from my chair and looked into one of the compartments of the yacht until I found one sunscreen, I went back to Mateo and opened the cap. 
“I don’t use that sunscreen,” 
“I can’t find your sunscreen so we have to use this one,” I explained. I put some on my fingers and applied it into his face, gently. 
“It smells funny,” he giggled. I did as well. 
As I blended the sunscreen into his face I said, “What do you think your maman is doing?” 
“What’s maman?” he asked. 
I laughed a bit, “your mom,” 
“Oh!” he shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably on her date.” I stopped for a second. “Hey, why did you stop?”
“Your mom is on a date?” I asked. 
“Mmhm,” he nodded. “I heard Tia Steph talking about it. My mom sounded very excited,” 
Y/n is on a date? “And do you know who he is?” he nodded. “Who is he?” 
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. 
I smiled for a bit but I was so confused. “What- but you just-” 
“My face feels funny,” he scratched his cheek, “its itchy and burning,” my smile started to fade. 
His face was becoming very red. I have to call Y/n 
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Y/N’s POV 
“So let’s see if I understand,” Arthur said. “You own a bookstore,” he counted with his finger and I nodded, “You own one of the most successful restaurants in Monaco,” 
“And Italy,” I added 
“And Italy!” he said, adding a finger to his count. “You are a bestseller author,” I nodded. “Your parents were also authors and they were like the Stephen King of murder mystery books,” 
“Mhmm,” 
“Wow,” he let out, “Simply wow. You amaze me.” I laughed. “No no, truly. You are incredible. You are too perfect,” 
“Oh no! I am far from perfect. I also have a son,” I said slowly. “His name is Mateo. He likes to said Mateo with one T after the daycare wrote it with two T’s” I laughed a bit. “He’s very special to me.” Arthur had an intense look on his face, like paying attention to all the words I am saying. As if whatever I was saying matter to him. “You would like him, he’s very smart for his age. 
“He sounds amazing, just like you,” he smiled. 
“Here,” I pulled up my phone. “Let me show you a picture,” just as I was about to show him one of the newest picture I took of him, eating the naughty brownies, I got an incoming call from Charles. “Sorry, I have to take this call,” I apologized. 
“No, no. Go ahead,” 
I thanked him and answered the phone, “Hello Cha-”
“Y/N something is Mateo on his face,” 
“What? What’s going on?” 
“I don't know! His face is all red and he says it’s itching. He’s crying and I don’t know what to do, please” In the background I could hear Mateo crying. My heart broken a little, I knew what was happening. 
“Wash his face and keep him under the sade if possible, bring him to me now. This play date is over,” I hung up the phone and looked at Arthur, there was concern in his face. 
“Is everything okay?” 
“I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea for my kid to spend time with his father, and now he got an allergic reaction, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to get going,” he felt bad having to leave like that. 
“Don’t apologize, I understand. I might not know the entire situation but from what you just said, it sounds like the father of your kid is a bad father,” he said. 
“Thank you for understanding,” I didn’t deny what he said because I don’t really know how Charles is as a father. 
“Please let me know how your kid is doing and if you need to talk, I’m just one phonecall away,” we said our goodbyes and I rushed to my car to get to my apartment. Once I got there, I got the aloe vera out of the freezer and got the aquaphor ready. Once I cut and slided the aloe vera, I put it was in the freezer. 
A little over an hour, Charles got home with Mateo in his arms, who was still crying, and the backpack I gave him on his shoulders.
Once he saw me he yelled, “Mamiiiii” he extended his arms towards me. 
“Ven aqui, mi amor, (come here, my love)” I carried him in my arms to the kitchen and sat him on the kitchen counter, I took out the aloe vera from the fridge and said, “This is going to make you feel better, okay?” he nodded as he scratched his eye with his fist, I pulled his hand out immediately. “You can’t do that Mateo. Youre gonna make it worse.” I put the aloe vera all over his face. 
“Why would he do that?” he asked. “I thought you loved me,” he looked at something behind me. I turned around and saw Charles standing behind us, bewildered after what Mateo said. He was only wearing his swimsuit, but none of that really matter now. He had the most sad face I have every seen. “But you don’t love me, that’s why you left me! You are mean! You are a mean dad! I hate you and I don’t wanna see you again!” he yelled. 
“Mateo, calm down, let’s get you in the shower. You need to rest.” I carried him in my arms again. Before I got out of the I turned to Charles and lipped a small ‘wait here’ 
I gave Mateo a quick bath under cold water, put his pijamas on and applied the aquaphor and aloe vera on his face, I brough one of the fans close to his face. 
“Are you okay now?” I asked him. 
His green eyes were red from crying. “Mami, am I going to be okay? Am i gonna die?” 
“No, mi amor. You are just having a reaction, nothing bad. You’re going to be okay in a few day,” I reassure him. “Now I need you to sleep. I’ll be checking up on you.” he nodded and closed his eyes. 
I got out of the room and saw Charles pacing back and forth. “He’s fine,” I said, my voice made him stop and look at me, “What happened to the sunscreen I gave you?” 
“I lost it, so I put another instead.” He took out the sunscreen out of Mateo’s bag. 
I took the sunscreen in my hands and examined the product. “You put a chemical sunscreen on his face,” I looked at him. “Mateo has extreme sensitive skin, he can’t use this type of sunscreen.” 
His eyes widen after that, “Why didn’t you tell me that?! I should’ve known that!” 
“Charles, I gave you one rule, just one. It was so simple. ‘Don’t lose the sunscreen’ that’s all.” I looked at the sunscreen again. “For fucks sake Charles, this sunscreen is expired too!” I threw the sunscreen at him, “Are you out of your mind? What is wrong with you?” I sighed. “Just… Go home,” I told him. 
“I-”
“Go!” he looked at me in the eyes and I knew he regretted everything that happened today. He nodded and left the apartment. 
I let myself drop on the couch, and fell asleep there. When I woke up, it was dark outside and Steph has just got home, I told hereverything that happened. 
“Mati said a lot of bad stuff to him, I thought Charles was going to cry on the spot,” I told her. 
“This kind of stuff could’ve happen to anyone, it’s nobody’s fault,” she said. Although I wanted to believe her I though that maybe I should’ve told him about Mateo’s situation. “I’m going to check on Mateo, you go to rest.” 
I got up from the couch, and stretched a bit. “Thank you, Steph.” I gave her a tight-lipped smile and made my way to my room. 
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Monday’s are always difficult with Mateo. He never wants to get up, and just wants to keep sleeping. 
“Mateo you are not going to school,” I said as I tried to drag him out of bed, “I just need to face your face and then you can go back to sleep!” 
“I’m not going to school?” He got up and and started jumping on the bed, “Yes! Yes! That means I can hang out with Sharls more! Yes! Yes! Ye-” he stopped jumping and started at the wall. He gasped and covered his mouth with both of his hands, he turned to look at me. His eyes were less puffy and started to peel but his face was still red. 
I got in front of him and pulled his hands away from his mouth. His lips started to quiver. He hugged me so fast and so tight I always fell back “Mami I was so mean to him. I told him I hate him but I don’t hate him, and now I’ll never see him again,” he was crying so hard on my neck. I pulled him away from me and dried his tears. 
“Mateo I cannot have you crying right now, it’s not gonna be good for your face.” I pulled his hair out of his face, “Charles is busy today,” I lied, but I don’t think I’m ready to see him yet after yesterday, “But we can call him later on and you can talk to him and tell him you didn’t mean what you said, okay?” Mateo nodded, more calmed this time. “Okay, let’s go wash your face,” 
I love spending my days with Mateo, when we are just hanging out in the couch and we cuddle and he falls asleep in my arms. It reminds me when he was a tiny baby. 
We are cuddling on the big couch while watching Doraemon, a cartoon I saw while growing up. I heard Mateo murmur something I didn’t quite understand. 
“What did you say baby?” 
“I said you are my mommy and I love you so much,” he looked at me. 
“Yes baby I know,” I giggled. 
Mateo sat on the couch. “No mami, you have to say it baaack,” 
“Say what back?” I laughed. 
“You have to say that you love me too!” He pushed me a bit, he got on top of me and gave kisses. 
“No Mateo, your face!” I laughed now. “Okay, okay. Fine I love you!” He stopped and smiled. 
I was very tempted to text Charles and let him know about Mateo. I looked at the time, 6:32pm. I think that’s a good time to call him. 
“Mateo do you wanna call Charles now?” I asked him. He looked down at his lap and then at me again. I could tell he was being shy now. “I’ll be there with you,” I told him, this time he nodded. I put my phone out and press the phone button, I looked for his name and press call, at the second ring he answered. 
“Y/n?” 
“Hey…” 
“How’s Mateo? Is he okay?” I could clearly hear the concern in his voice. 
“Mateo is fine, he’s getting better,” I looked at my son for a second, “He actually wants to talk to you, I’m going to put you on speaker, hold on.” I moved the phone out of my face and put the call on speaker, I moved the phone towards my son. 
“Hi Sharls…” his voice was small. 
“Hello Mateo, your maman says you are doing better,” 
“Yes…” 
At the other line, Charles let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take good care of you. I never wanted to hurt you”
Mateo’s lip started to tremble, “I didn’t mean the stuff I said to you yesterday. I was very mean, I’m sorry,” 
“I forgive you, Mati,” 
“No, you can’t call me that, only mommy calls me that,” he was quick to say. 
“Mateo!” I said. 
“Okay, you can call me Mati,” Charles laughed through the phone. 
“Y/n, can I talk to you?” I pulled the phone back and told Mateo to get the cream and aloe vera to apply it to his face again, after he left the living to get the stuff I took the phone out of speaker. 
“Yes?” 
“Is it okay to still have the dinner with my family tomorrow?” Tomorrow is the last day. The day next day Charles is leaving to go to the Baku GP. 
“Yes, I thought that’s what we agreed on. How many are you guys?” 
“Ehh… It’s me, my mum and my two brothers,” he said. 
“Okay, you can be here around seven or eight,” I told him. 
“Okay, then I’ll see you tomorrow, say goodnight to Mateo for me,” 
“Alright, bye.” I hang up. 
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I got everything ready, I got catering from the restaurant. I have the table ready. 
Steph came out with Mateo next to her, once she saw me, she stopped walking and covered Mateo’s ears. 
“Girl, you look so hot,” I was wearing a black satin dress and low shoes. 
“Really? I think it’s too much, I have to go change.” Just as I took one step, I heard a knock on the door. 
“No can do, ma’am. You have guests outside.” She let go of Mateo and pushed me towards the door. “Now be a nice hostess and open the door,” after she said that, she made her way into the kitchen. 
I took a deep breath, fixed my dress a bit, and then opened the door, but this wasn’t exactly who I expected to see on the other side. 
“Pascale?” 
“Y/n?” she asked. 
“Maman?” Charles asked. 
“Maman?!” I asked. 
“Y/n?” Charles asked again. 
“Charles, you’re…” Pascale started. She looked at me, and then at Charles. She knows the truth about everything. I feel my eyes burning. What the actual fuck is going on? Can this get any worse? A little far back, I could hear the voice of two guys speaking French. 
“Y/n, you know my mom?” Charles asked. I think I’m going to puke. 
Before I could answer, the two guys got behind Charles, still talking in within themselves. Is that…? 
“Arthur?!” The blond guy turned his face so fast. I was wrong, it can and it did get worse. I felt my whole body start to shake. I want to run far far away from this dinner, I want to floor to open a hole and swallow me whole.
“Y/N?” Seeing Arthur next to Charles, I could see the resemblance. The dimples, the smile. His face went pale and his eyes looked at me and then his brother. What are the odds? This can’t be right. 
Everyone was in some sort of shock, except for the other guy. He was just confused. He pushed Arthur behind and got in between Pascale and Charles. “I’m Lorenzo, very nice to meet,” He greeted me with two kisses on the cheek. 
“Yeah…” I managed to say. “Same…” 
What the fuck do I do now? 
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Author's Note - Please please read.
AHHHHHHHH I hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter. This is the longest chapter I have written so far. This chapter has been so intense for me to write because of how long it is. It has taken me two and a half weeks to write. I would really appreciate to know what you guys thought of the chapter.
I love writing, I love the idea of Una Noche En Monaco a lot, and I really wish I could update more frequent. You guys are so lovely with the messages you sent me. Your comments, your praises and your support on this story is what makes me want to continue to write, truly. I mean the absolute world to me and I want to thank you guys for that. You guys are the best!
I have so many ideas for new stories of Charles that I wish I could be able to tell you. Like the royal!Charles x low class!reader, royal!Charles x royal! reader, Charles x Ferrari driver! reader, and two more that I can't even say.
If you guys let me vent for a bit, these past few weeks have been a bit of a struggle for me because I am not having that much work at my main job because we work with school and if there's no school, then there's no money, and my second job doesn't have events available to work. So I'm kinda jobless which is really really bad because I have tons of bills to pay and Miami is freaking expensive. All of this is freaking me out a bit and I just can't wait for school to start again so I can have work 😭😭
On better news, I have 736 followers! That is a lot! Like if I had one dollar for each follower I have, I would have 736 dollars?! That's a lot! I can't belie the amount of love you guys have given UNEM, you guys are the goat and I am sending a big kiss to each one of you! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
I'm also thinking about creating a discord group so I could let you guys know about future projects, let you know whenever I update and all that jazz. The reason behind it is that tagging can be messy and Tumblr doesn't let me tag more than 50 people, and some tag don't even work? But I know the people are there because I see their likes and comments. So it's confusing. So pls let me know what you think about the discord.
Also I saw my notes app the other day and remember the bulletpoint draft for UNEM and this whole series was going to be COMPLETELY different from what is it lmaoo, should I show it to you guys? 👀
AND TO ALL THE GIRLIES THAT WRITE ABOUT SEBASTIAN VETTEL, TOTO WOLFF AND FERNANDO ALONSO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND PLS UPDATE MORE BC THAT IS MY SOURCE OF LIFE RN SPECIALLY RBR!SEBASTIAN FICS AHHHH
TAGLIST IS CLOSED.
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ivystoryweaver · 9 months ago
Text
3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life
Part 1 of 5 - Knife
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Miniseries Masterlist || Main Masterlist || next
Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader
Summary: Jake has been hired to assassinate you - the daughter of Chicago's most powerful and corrupt man
Or: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
Word Count: 2.5k
Content: nsfw, mdni, more below the cut, READ the warnings. Dead dove - you will get what is warned!
There is no non-con in this fic, but it's dark in the sense that the reader IS in real danger from Jake. Violence, language, stalking, blood, knife play, also actual knife use - like for its intent - stabbing, danger, sexy dreams, glove kink, masturbation, not beta'd
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
The second time Jake saw you up close, he darkly chuckled to himself at how easy of a mark you were.
Everyone in his line of work knew who you were - the beautiful daughter of the most powerful man in the city. And your father had endless enemies.
Including the one who hired Jake to take you out. Jake's boss was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. To assassinate the most powerful mob boss' only daughter required someone removed from the situation. Someone professional. Invisible.
Jake wasn't stupid either. There wasn't enough money in this city to lure him into crossing your father.
No, this was plain, old fashioned revenge. So maybe Jake's boss was stupid - this was personal, for Jake anyway.
So tonight, as he saw you walking out of a club with your girlfriends, your inept bodyguards flanking you, he sneered.
You had style - that, Jake had to admit. Your dress fit you like a glove, but landed an inch or so longer than your obvious minions’ skirts. The girls around you were trying too hard. You didn’t have to.
They flocked to your power and your money (or your father's), but the attempt was desperate, at best.
But you held yourself with a self-assurance and something Jake had no idea he was interested in until he'd started tailing you: class.
Your eyes shone as your laughter rang out into the night. You must’ve been a little tipsy, if the glow of your cheeks was any indication.
The bodyguards - who Jake mentally referred to as Dumb and Dumber - ushered the small group of you into a waiting car.
Jake thought about it: driving you. Using his day (or night) job to get close to you. Too complicated. You had a faithful driver, well paid, who had shuttled you around the city practically all your life. Then, of course there were Dumb and Dumber and the other girls to...dispose of.
So no driving. Not this time.
You rarely ventured out alone, but Jake had discovered your quietest moments. You lived in a hotel, actually - one of your father's - in a penthouse, with, at least, adequate security.
So, no home invasion. That made Jake feel like a creep anyway, and he wasn't a creep. He was a professional.
He found the easiest access to you would likely come during one of your early morning jogs in the park, or while you liked to shop or run errands during the day.
In fact, he walked right by you just yesterday.
That was the first time he saw you up close.
You were even more beautiful up close.
Yesterday, he simply wanted to see if Dumb and Dumber would notice how close he got. He was also checking out the lack of security cameras in the park.
He had to do this right. And even then, he would flee afterward. He hated this city anyway.
Fucking Chicago. Every horrible thing in his life went wrong in this city. New York never treated him so poorly. And besides, the alter in his head preferred life across the pond. So, finishing this job would be the perfect excuse to never return.
So the next morning, he arrived in the park before sunrise. Sure enough, you came jogging round the corner, an unsafe number of strides ahead of Dumb and Dumber. Or...it was only Dumber this time. One bodyguard? Seriously, this was too easy.
All it took was a gloved hand around your mouth and a knife to your ribs to get you where he wanted you, into the dense thicket, away from prying eyes.
You struggled, but Jake’s experience won out. He used the tip of his knife to inflict the slightest twinge of pain.
"I can make this almost painless," he breathed on your ear.
You whimpered, angry with yourself for going limp in his arms as you felt the pinch of pain in your ribs.
However, you're weren't stupid either. If he wanted to kill you, he would have dragged that blade across your jugular with your mouth still covered. You would bleed out silently and he would have plenty of time to escape before your bodyguard found you.
His annoying poke to your ribs and striking up a conversation meant he wanted something else and that's why you shuddered. This was a kidnapping or an assault. Or he was a sick freak who wanted to play with his food first.
He whirled you around and pushed you up against a tree, crowding in front of you, with your mouth still covered.
The tree's bark scraped against your bare legs, but cold, dark eyes which - under different circumstances, might have captivated you - momentarily distracted you.
Distinguished nose - mouth set in a thin line, strong, square jaw with a beard - well kempt. Dark brown curls peeked out of a flat cap. He almost looked like something out of the 1930's when you really thought about it.
Which...given the circumstances, why in the hell were you thinking about his looks?
Finding your courage, you tried to speak against his gloved hand. He positioned the knife at your throat - finally a more useful spot - and breathed against your cheek. "Scream and it'll be your last word, doll."
You nodded quickly, trying to blink back the moisture in your eyes. Your father was going to end this asshole, but you might suffer mightily first.
Slowly, Jake removed his hand, keeping it close to your mouth in case you got any ideas.
"Why didn't you just cut my throat?" You gasped, your chest heaving, drawing his eyes momentarily down to the fit of your sports bra and your chest, glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
"Are you offering suggestions?" One dark eyebrow shot up, almost comedically.
"It would be the quickest and quietest way," you confessed, shrugging one shoulder. "I'm just trying to see what I'm in for. You want me to beg or something? Cry? Just tell me and get it over with."
Jake chucked.
Oh. So he was a condescending asshole. Awesome.
Still, he didn't taunt you or threaten you, which probably meant ... damn it.
"Aw hell, you're a pervert then?" You scoffed. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're hoping."
That puzzled your captor, but only for a moment. " - no," he scoffed. "That's not something I have to...coerce."
You rolled your eyes, but made sure to keep still because that knife tip was starting to dig into your throat. "I'm sure you're a real catch. Just get this over with. My bodyguard will be here soon."
The corner of Jake's mouth curled. "Trust me, I'm not worried about him."
You shivered slightly, realizing he'd done his homework. "What do you want?" You managed, a little more desperately than you were hoping to sound.
"Revenge," he evenly responded
You locked eyes and saw honesty there.
You slightly nodded, swallowing hard as his breath ghosted your cheek.
"W-what did I do to you?"
Jake's eyes darkened as he pulled the blade from your throat and positioned it right over your heart.
"Your father killed my brother."
Wetting your lips, you whispered, "I'm sorry. I-I don't know anything about that."
"'Course you don't," Jake sneered. "But your father does."
"So I have to pay for your brother's life with my own?" You hurriedly reasoned. "You think that will make my father suffer the way you have? There's no way. I don't even think he loves me." Your voice was now dripping with panic, but Jake started to admire the way you fired off protests.
"Nice try," Jake scoffed. "Everyone knows you're daddy's pride and joy. You're the only way to his heart."
"Then do it," you spat. "I hate all this Criminal Minds villain discourse bullshit. Just put us both out of our misery."
"Villain?" Jake huffed. "I'm the villain? Your father has corrupted this entire city! And you benefit from every cent and every life he takes. You're the villain - both of you."
"Then what are you fucking waiting for?" You hissed, jerking against him, causing the knife to slip and slice your chest.
"Shit!" You cried out, your hands flying to cover your wound, which was only superficial, but still hurt like hell.
The gloved hand clamped back over your mouth as the knife tip dragged down your sternum to just under your ribs once more. Without hesitation, he pushed the blade into your abdomen.
You screamed into his hand, tears streaming down your face. Your body flamed with searing pain as you went limp in his arms.
"Shhh, shh, sweetheart. It's only enough to slow you down. You'll live. Promise."
And he fucking left you there.
With his knife inside you.
Oh your father was going to crucify this asshole.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
You spent hardly any time at all in the hospital - the wound was so insignificant. Still, you were stabbed so it warranted medical attention and your father was furious. He attempted to double security around you and forbade you from leaving your penthouse.
You indulged him for a day or so but you weren't one to be caged. He'd made your life enough of a living hell. You felt scared all the time, always a pressure point for him - a bargaining chip for his enemies.
You didn't tell him about the bouquet of tulips you received from your attacker, with a note that read, 'Did you keep what I left inside you?'
The next day, gardenias arrived with another note. 'I'll show you how to use it sometime.'
Okay, so maybe you were stupid. Because instead of turning the notes over to your father, or even the police (not likely), you kept them to yourself.
The most intriguing thing about this mystery man was how he was managing to get these flowers and notes past your (obviously shit) security.
You dreamed.
He's pinned you up against the tree. His gloved hand applies pressure to your throat. The tip of his knife blade traces lightly over your bottom lip, before he drags it down the smooth column of your throat. He trails down your chest, raking it between your breasts before slicing right through your sports bra. Your breasts spring free and his eyes darken. He grazes your nipple with the blade - the cool metal electrifying your peak, making it go stiff.
His grip on your throat loosens as he pushes gloved fingers up over your jaw and slips his leather clad digits into your mouth. His eyes find yours again as you obediently suck without being asked.
He pushes his fingers to the back of your throat, gagging you, which makes him smirk.
Then he surprises you by taking his hand out of your mouth and pushing the hilt of the knife into your palm.
"Hold this for me, baby," he instructs, roughly shoving his sopping wet glove - wet with your spit - into your tight leggings, slipping them between your already soaked folds.
Your hand shakes as you realize you have the power - you have the knife and you can get away. You can hurt him back, like he hurt you.
Without another thought, you jab the knife into his side, even as his gloved thumb circles your clit.
"That's my girl," he pants as blood pools and spills through his crisp, white dress shirt. You yank the knife back out, puzzled, but your brain is starting to short-circuit from the wildest fingerfucking you've ever experienced.
You try to whisper his name, wondering if he'll be okay, but you realize - you don't even know his name. You have no inkling whose fingers are stuffed inside your cunt, even as you grind down on his palm, riding his glove like a toy.
You woke up covered in sweat, slick heat pooled between your legs even as your belly filled with shame.
Without another thought, you reached into your nightstand drawer for the knife he left inside you.
You yanked your nightgown aside, gently running the cool metal over your nipples, just the way he'd done in your dream.
You shoved your fingers into your mouth, just like he had, and once they were sopping you slid them into your silky panties and rubbed your clit furiously.
"Oh god," you moaned, writhing, carefully scraping the knife across your other nipple before a nasty idea formed. You used the knife handle and pushed it down over your clit with two fingers of the opposite hand stuffed inside you.
You felt wrong - disgusted with yourself. The man wasn't being sexy - this wasn't some fantasy of a dangerous man in the woods. He had no interest in you. He threatened you - stabbed you, for fuck's sake. Who knew what else he was capable of? He could've taken advantage of your body or sliced your throat.
And now he'd sent the flowers and messages. So he was probably a stalker. This would escalate and be dragged out, just like you'd wanted to avoid.
He was probably watching you right now.
...which, to your utter shame made you feral.
You moaned so loudly, you were sure your bodyguards would rush in.
"Can you see me?" You panted, repulsed with yourself, but so close, rubbing the blunt end of the knife faster and faster over your clit as you shoved your fingers as deep as they would go.
One more thought of that horrible man plunging his knife in you and your back arched euphorically as a powerful orgasm wracked your body - as good as any with your array of top-of-the-line toys.
As you lay there panting, wondering how you would rid yourself of this shameful new obsession - masturbating to a man who wanted revenge against your father - who attacked you and honestly, showed no real interest in you - you decided you needed a way to reach him.
He was able to get to you somehow, by sending you flowers and notes.
So the next day, you instructed your staff to return a wrapped, sealed box to whomever delivered flowers, and you paid handsomely to make sure the box got back to the sender.
It may never make it to the mystery man, but you had to try.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
"I told you - you can't come back here," Jake scolded the young delivery boy.
"Sorry, mister. That lady gave me a ton of money to bring this to you."
Fortunately, Jake had met up with this little idiot on a street corner and not near where he lived, nor near his car. He also used a false name.
It was risky enough sending things to you, but you got under his skin.
He knew this was all a bad idea. His boss wanted you dead and Jake wanted his revenge for Randall.
But here he was, behaving like a pathetic stalker, sending you flowers and creepy notes, bypassing your security.
And now you sent something back?
Jake pulled the lid from the box and almost choked. It was his knife. Something had...dried on the handle, along with what he could only assume was still your blood on the blade. And there was a handwritten note.
'I came on it.'
next
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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kenananamin · 1 year ago
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Beside Each Other
Chapter 1: Moving in
[masterlist]
Summary: Single mom moves into a third floor apartment with her 5 year old daughter. Nanami Kento lives on the second floor and knows someone is moving in when he hears the furniture scraping across the floor to find its spot in the apartment. He expects the noise to end in a day or two but then hears the little pitter patter of tiny feet followed by a muffled, "Stop running!" Well... this should be interesting.
fluff, nanami kento x fem!reader
~3.6k words
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
Monday
*Second floor, Nanami's apartment* 
Team leader Nanami Kento grabs his mug of freshly brewed tea and goes to sit in his office to begin the work day. It's almost the same thing every single day but he enjoys the job so far. The team is responsible and quick, he can work quietly from home, and most importantly, the pay is much better than any of his past jobs. He'll be able to save most of his check and save enough to move to a better place soon. The current building was breaking down and it seemed that every neighbor had a new complaint every day. He really does feel bad for anyone that falls for the listing and is conned by the landlady who just wants to fill the apartments for rent. He should've known better, a two bed two bath for much less than anything in the area was bound to have its conditions.
He sighs thinking about the apartment but logs in for the day and begins reading through the emails that came in over the weekend. A few emails in and he hears a couple loud thumps upstairs. He knew Truman left last week but the landlady was very quick to con someone (again) to take that space.
Nanami sighs, "Welcome to the money pit, neighbor."
He continues his morning while hearing the furniture scraping across the floor to find its spot in the apartment. The heavier furniture was loud and slow and the lighter stuff was clear and quick. It should only be a day or two at most of this noise. That is, until he hears quick and small pitter patters from the living room to right above his office.
Nanami pauses and focuses to listen through the thin walls. He hears a very muffled, "This is my room, mommy! Mommy! Momma!"
A kid? Nanami wonders.
*Third floor, your apartment*
You swing the door open and pout at the old discolored paint. This apartment wasn't at the top of your list, not even in your top 10, but it was cheaper than everything else and close to Yunn's school. Mr. Truman warned you about this apartment but also said it was a good temporary spot for you and Yunn. At least until your application was approved for any of the other apartments, townhouses, or rental houses you applied for. Mr. Truman and Jessie promised they'd let you know if they ever passed by any 'For Rent' sign.
You move out of the way while holding Yunn's hand to let the mover see the space to know what to bring up first. They quickly scan the room and go back down to bring the first bunch of furniture. You walk to the kitchen bar to check the papers left on the counter and look up to see the movers with the couch and side tables. 
"Momma, can I go see the rooms?"
"Yeap, but remember what I told you please."
Yunn indeed does not remember and sprints off to one end of the apartment towards the smaller room. "This is my room, mommy! Mommy! Momma!"
You try to do a quiet tip-toe run after your daughter to get her to quiet down. 
"Stop running!" you catch up to your excited daughter. “Yunnuen, I had told you to please not run and not yell. Please, baby, we just talked about this.”
She looks up and nods but continues to look around the room. Mr. Truman had said that although the neighbors constantly complained about management, they were very nice to each other. He told you the downstairs neighbor wouldn’t mind a little noise but you wanted to avoid making any noise, period. Mr. Truman said the neighbor worked from home and the last thing you wanted was to disturb someone while they worked or become a nuisance when they're trying to rest.
“Knock knock!”
“Ms. Jessie!” Yunn ran to the room door where Mr. Truman and Jessie stood.
“The movers are in and out and the door is open, we hope you don’t mind that we came in!”
Jessie was Yunn’s old pre-k teacher. She knew everything from your work schedule, to Yunn’s dad, to your struggle of finding a new place. You both grew close throughout the year especially after Yunn moved up to kinder. Mr. Truman is Jessie’s father. He works as a janitor at the same school and saw you often when you’d stay a bit longer after school to talk to Jessie and let Yunn play in the playground. He had to move in with Jessie after a back injury and told you about his old apartment. He did warn you about the shabbiness of it but said it’d be alright in the meantime. The kind older man offered to help with any maintenance issues and although you agreed at the time, you knew you would never call the poor man to work with his injured back. You’d figure it out… you hoped.
“No no, of course not! You didn’t have to come! It’s your day off, you should’ve stayed home to relax.”
Jessie looks up from hugging Yunn, “Didn’t want to stay home. I can help put some of the boxes in the correct rooms and at least start unboxing a few things.”
“And I wanted to show you a couple things around the building. Most of the things in here are old and get stuck. We all have — or had for me, our own ways of doing things around here,” Mr. Truman smiled at you. The gentlest smile, similar to the smile he always had around Jessie. “Come on, follow me down to the mailbox. Damn thing always gets stuck”
If anyone knew the building, it would be him. You start to follow Mr. Truman out the door when you turn and tell Yunnuen to stay with Jessie and not leave her sight.
*First floor, mailboxes*
Nanami pushes his mailbox slot to get it open. He wasn’t expecting any mail but he was making time for the new upstairs neighbor to finish moving things in the room directly above him to make a couple work calls. He takes a coupon page from the inside and closes his box. 
“Be careful with the last steep step here, hold that baby’s hand tight when coming down or she might tumble one day.”
The familiar voice made Nanami turn quickly. Was that…? “Truman?” Nanami asked.
“Nanami! Hello boy, good thing I caught you here, there’s someone you should meet.”
You were a couple steps behind Mr. Truman, carrying a couple welcome bags with things the elderly neighbors had given you after knowing you were a friend of their close friend and had a little girl.
“Nanami, this is y/n, she’s moving into my old place with her little girl. y/n, this is Nanami, the downstairs neighbor,” Mr. Truman fumbles for the mailbox key you handed him on the staircase, “I’m gonna show her my trick to box 303.”
Only her and her daughter... single mom? Nanami extends his hand, “Well, welcome to the building, y/n.”
You shake his hand and smile, “Thank you, Mr. Truman mentioned you work from home. Please let me know if we get too loud, I’ll try to keep our volume down either way but please let me know if it’s too much.”
Nanami shakes his head, “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”
You smile again, but still feel a little bad at the thought that Yunnuen could be running around while this man tried to work. Despite Mr. Truman telling you about this man's calm and patient behavior, you still wanted to avoid any extreme noise. It’s a temporary place, but you still want to be considerate to others.
Mr. Truman calls you over to show you how he would push the mailbox up and slightly to the left to get it open. Mr. Truman closes the mailbox after wiggling it around and continues to talk about the trash chute, the main doorway, avoiding the elevator unless you have heavy things, the never opened or available maintenance office, the broken window at the end of the hall, the flickering light on the 2nd floor staircase, and on and on and on. 
“Call me when you need something. I’m still close and know this building better than anyone, including that landlady!” Mr. Truman hits his chest to emphasize his point, making you smile. 
Nanami notices your hesitation about calling Truman, but excuses himself to go up to his apartment. 
“Don’t work too much, boy! It’s a holiday and it’s supposed to be a long weekend!”
Nanami gives a small smile to the old man, “Just a bit more today, promise.” He politely smiles, nods towards you and turns to leave.
Handsome, you thought.
Pretty, Nanami thought.
Thursday
*First floor, maintenance office*
Nanami opens the main entrance door and is immediately greeted by the warmth of the first floor. He pulls the bags on his right hand closer to himself and begins going up the stairs, but stops when he sees you trying to peek through the closed blinds of the maintenance office.
Nanami steps away from the staircase and walks a few feet towards you, “They’re supposed to be here Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays at least half day but I’ve never seen them open for more than a couple hours at a time. You might have missed them already.”
You quickly turn towards him, slightly disgruntled at the closed office. You put your hands on your hips and ask, "do you think they’ll come in tomorrow?"
Nanami slightly tilts his head to the side and without saying a word, you understood completely. You sigh heavily and pace in front of the office before pointing to the closed door, “Would you happen to have a number or contact for any maintenance person?”
"Yeah," he shrugs, but before you get too excited, he said, "Truman. He was our unofficial in-house maintenance man and he was the one that everyone called."
You hesitate before saying, "I wouldn’t want to bother him. His back is still hurt pretty bad and I wouldn’t want him on the floor."
"On the floor?" Nanami raises his eyebrows.
Nanami notices how you hesitate to answer, but you continue, "I noticed a small leak underneath the kitchen sink and I thought I just had to tighten it so I did but it’s been leaking nonstop since yesterday. I wouldn’t want to call Mr. Truman and ask him to basically crawl under my sink to figure out what’s wrong."
Nanami looks at his watch and sees he has 40 minutes left of his lunch. He looks back up, "I know we just met and I’m not a maintenance man but Truman did teach me a few things. Before you, I was the youngest in this building and he said every young man needed to learn how to handle things around his apartment," He chuckles at the memory of the older man happily walking downstairs to Nanami's apartment to help, "He helped me at first, but towards the end, he would just bring me the tools and supplies and watch me fix things on my own. I can go up and see what’s wrong with it, I have about 40 minutes left so I can at least check it out."
"Didn't you just say Mr. Truman would take his tools to you?" you ask, trying to find a way to sneak in a kind no, thank you. 
"Yeah but he gave me about half his tool box when he moved out. Said I’d need it eventually," Nanami grins at the memory, "guess he was right."
Nanami sees you hesitate again and look down the hall. I don't want to ask any neighbor for this kind of help, I just moved in and don't know anything about him, you think. But — I do need the help, I can't have Yunn in a place without a properly working kitchen sink. You cross your arms and tell him, "I wouldn’t want to impose. I haven’t even been here in a week and I would already be asking you for something."
Nanami smiles and shakes his head. "It would be no imposition," he nods towards the staircase and motions you to walk up with him. "And I think you’ve held out long enough, maybe longer than the rest of us. A lot of us came down to the maintenance office the second day we were here."
Damn... I guess I can repay him later?
You lightly laugh and start ascending the stairs with your neighbor. "I'm y/n by the way, I know the last time I saw you was Monday," you stretch your hand out and Nanami introduces himself again.
"How can I pay you back? I wouldn’t want a free favor and I don’t want to take advantage of your generosity."
"Well let’s see what the issue is first. But I really don’t mind, Truman helped me when I needed it most. I’d be happy to help."
You turned your face away from Nanami, but he saw your tight-lipped smile. You both reach the second floor and tell Nanami you have a few tools he can use so he wouldn't have to stop to get his tools. Nanami nods and gives a small ok as you slowly reach your apartment door.
"Let me just say that I haven’t really had a chance to organize things how I would like and my daughter is not very good at picking things up before school," you reach into your pocket for the key and start to open your door.
Nanami laughs a bit behind you as you open the door. If it weren’t because you and Truman have mentioned your daughter, or the toys splattered on the living room floor, he wouldn’t believe a kid lived above him. Besides the first day and the chaos of moving in, he never heard any small footsteps running around or a child's laugh through the walls. He was somewhat impressed that you had kept your promise about keeping the noise down, but he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed though. Maybe he was looking forward to the noise of a child's laughter, sometimes the evenings were too quiet or they were filled with the elderly neighbor's drama filled evening programs.
"May I?" Nanami points to the bags in his hand and a spot on the floor near your door.
"Oh, I can take those, we can just put them on the table."
Nanami shrugs his shoulders a bit, his heavy coat becoming heavier in your warm apartment. You put his bags on an entryway table and ask him to follow you to the kitchen. He had been inside Truman’s apartment before and even though he knows it's the exact same layout as his own, he says nothing and lets you lead him in. 
Nanami sees you keep a good few feet from him in your apartment and he honestly can’t blame you, you just let a new neighbor you don’t know into your house. He avoids getting closer than necessary to not make you uncomfortable and opens the cabinets under the kitchen sink. You open the cupboard beside the sink and take out your toolbox for him to use.
"Thank you," he smiles and gives you a quick glance before turning back to the pipe underneath the sink. He shrugs his shoulders again to try to shift the increasingly warm jacket and reaches for the wrench to start working on the sink trap.
You leave the small kitchen and head for the area on the other side of the bar. If Nanami looked up, he would be able to find you and you weren’t sure where to stand while he worked. You didn't want to hover, but you also didn’t feel like you should leave him completely alone since he was doing you a favor. You grab a closed box and start unpacking the extra dishes and utensils. You can’t see what he’s doing exactly but you hear a couple tools moving on the pipes and the clanking of other tools in the toolbox.
You grab another box and start removing the newspaper from the top when you see Nanami shrugging again. Since it was cold outside, you always kept your home slightly warmer for Yunn. You’re comfortable and not too warm in what you’re wearing, but a 6-foot well-built man with a winter coat must feel like an oven.
"Umm, let me take your jacket. I can put it by your bags so it’s out of your way if you'd like." Your neighbor looks up and although you can only see the top half of his face, you notice the slight sweat building on his brow.
"Thank you, I don’t think it’ll take much longer, but I appreciate it," he drops the tool in his hand and stands to take off his jacket. He was definitely handsome, very handsome, in fact, and apparently very helpful. You nod and smile at the man and quickly turn to put his jacket by the entryway.
You return to your spot on the other side of the bar and he stands back up after unpacking your third box.
"So the sink trap is going to have to be replaced. If you ask management for the sink trap alone, then they can get it to you maybe early next week. Can't promise they'll do anything for the labor part of it but they'll send the part somewhat quickly," Nanami closes the cupboard and reaches back down for the toolbox.
You nod and take a mental note of what he says, "Can you show me which part that is? I can change it as soon as they give it to me."
Nanami looks at you round the kitchen bar to move next to him and asks, "Are you sure? I’m sure you would be able to figure it out, but I wouldn’t mind coming back and switching it quickly. This alone took," he looks back at his watch and continues, "10 minutes." 
You shift your weight from one leg to the other and contemplate his offer, "That’s a huge imposition, I can’t ask you to fix or switch everything for me."
Nanami gets on one knee to put the tools back in the cupboard where you retrieved them from. "I work eight hours a day, but I don’t have an exact assigned time to work. I can take my breaks whenever I want as long as I finish everything so I'd be able to replace it even during a break."
You hesitate again, but he continues, "Truman never let anybody help him. With the condition of the sink trap, I imagine that he couldn’t fix this himself, but he would be willing to help any of us if we needed anything. Think of this as me repaying him."
"Actually, he probably wasn't even aware of this, his daughter would take him home with her a lot towards the end of his lease here," you look up to your neighbor’s eyes. Even though the thought of a complete stranger in the same house as your daughter makes you nervous, you admit that you might need that help. It might be worth trusting Nanami especially when Mr. Truman kept talking about him so highly after your mailbox interaction last time.
The man is now gently smiling at you, waiting for your answer, and you smile back. "I work at the office two to three times a week. I work from home the rest of the week. I can let you know when I finally catch management so they can give me or order the part.” You pick at your fingernail, “I want you to know that I really really would not want to ask for any help, especially anything keeping you away from your real work or anything of yours, but I really would — do appreciate your help."
Nanami gives you another small smile and says, "Great, just let me know. You can just knock on my door or give me a call." He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and hands you a business card. "It's my work cell but it's always on and I carry it everywhere."
You nod and take his card: Kento Nanami, Senior Mechanical Product Designer at Schneider Electric. Hmm, fancy. 
Nanami walks around you and heads to the front door. You follow behind as he's grabbing his jacket and bags from the table when he turns around to look at you. "I'm not sure if I should say this or not, but I really wouldn't mind if your daughter runs around a bit. I haven't heard anything from up here since the day you moved in... you don't have to be so careful. It's ok if you show a couple signs of life up here." He gives his last smile before opening the door, "See you soon, y/n." Nanami softly closes the door behind him. 
You stare at the door after his departure, his business card still in your hands. Show a couple signs of life up here. Anywhere else you've lived, you've been shushed through the walls and neighbors would complain about hearing your baby when you were trying your best to keep her quiet. You got used to keeping quiet ever since. Maybe it is ok — loud laughter, speaking a bit louder, maybe that much would be ok.
You smile down at the business card and put it behind your phone case for safekeeping.
Nanami returns to his apartment and looks at his watch. A little more than 25 minutes left for lunch. He sets his bags down and thinks about his pretty and nice neighbor. So she is a single mom. He sits on his couch and takes out his phone. 
Truman was no longer looking over his shoulder to make sure everything was being done correctly. Nanami did not want to mess this up.
Google search: how to replace a sink trap 
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
Chapter 2: The Pizza and the Tooth Fairy
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Sending my request once again! (I think, don't rlly remember 😰) Full hc about the M6 with a MC in a coma?
The Arcana HCs: When MC falls into a coma
~ don't know if this is what you were going for but it turned into a sleeping beauty situation XD hope you enjoy! - brainrot ~
-- to set the scene --
It was an overcast day. The air had been unusually still ever since your lover had stepped out after breakfast to start their day, and you'd found your own set of tasks to be oddly uneventful ... and lonely. It's why, when an elderly grandfather hobbles by and offers you a warm bread roll, you don't hesitate to take a bite as soon as you've waved goodbye. You don't take a second.
Julian
He's had a long day at the clinic, and as short as his commute is, he still feels like he's been a hundred miles away from you as he heads over after sunset. He's missed you all day
He's sure he forgets how to breathe when he walks in to see you collapsed on the floor. He knows what corpses look like, he can tell you aren't dead, but that's little comfort when you don't wake up
Carrying you to bed and working feverishly to narrow down all the possibilities. You're not injured, you're not sick, your vitals seem to fine, but ... you don't wake up. Even smelling salts don't do it
Spends the next three days refusing to leave your side except to fetch more help or resources. The whole community helps him
Mazelinka brings soup, Portia and Nadia stop by with some rare medicines, Asra pops in at all odd hours with new spells to try, and even Barth sends a hot meal or two over from the Rowdy Raven
Julian doesn't leave until he gets a call in the middle of the night. A nearby neighbor has gone into labor, and needs attention until the midwife can arrive from across town
He kisses your hand goodbye on his way out and is too busy hustling out the door to hear you stir. His shout when he gets home several hours later to see you reading wakes half the city
Asra
They'd spent the morning out running errands and the afternoon catching up with their parents. It's been busy and interesting and they're excited to show you what they got you in the market
Except all of that goes tumbling out of his grasp when he walks in to find you collapsed behind the counter, unresponsive
Somehow they manage to get you upstairs and in bed through the daze, and then they get ready to work through the night
He does notice the partially-eaten bread roll and can tell there's some sort of powerful magic in it, but unraveling what it is proves harder than he expects. The next 24 hours blur by in a haze
At some point, Faust goes off to find Chimes and Flamel and Aisha and Salim appear at the back door to help out. When they see Asra's state, they urge them to get some rest while they take over
He makes up a layer of blankets on the floor next to you to sleep, not wanting to disturb your condition, but it feels wrong to close his eyes without the usual goodnight kiss (at 5 PM)
They lean over to press a gentle peck between your eyebrows, and the sight of you beginning to twitch awake makes them freeze in place. It might be too good to be true
And that's how you wake up, to an exhausted Asra collapsing onto your chest
Nadia
Horrified. She's already blaming herself for being too busy to check in on you earlier, you seemed fine this morning, but here you are in one of the entrance's side rooms collapsed since goodness knows
A quick check with the guards confirms they saw you speaking with a stooped old man at the gates just that afternoon - and the roll they saw him give to you is next to you on the floor
To say that she distracts herself from her pain by leaving you to the healthcare professionals and trying to make up for her negligence by hunting down your poisoner would be an understatement
She's a woman on a mission. She'll leave Chandra in your chambers to bring her any updates and start her investigation immediately
Can't really bring herself to be with you for too long when she believes it's her fault. It's two weeks before she sits down next to you to see how you're doing, after doctors suggested she talk
It's hard. She takes your hand in hers and stares at your motionless face, and all she's able to do is tell you everything she's done so far to find the old man as though it'll earn her your presence again
Only after that, as the sun starts to set and she runs out of things to say, does she lean down whisper her love into your ear and press a kiss to your cheek. The surprised "eep!" when you wake up is priceless
Muriel
Panics as soon as gets in, because his mind is already jumping to the worst possible conclusions about what he's seeing
Are you dead? Are you hurt? Were you attacked? Did a rogue wild animal make its way in and maul you? Did Lucio come back? Did the Devil come back? He should've kept you safe -
It's Inanna's insistent whining and nudging that gets him to carry you to the bed from where he's gathered you up. It's hard to check for your pulse when his hand won't stop shaking
Whatever's going on, it doesn't take long for him to realize that you're okay. You're okay, you're just ... asleep. And not waking up
He'll try taking a nap on the floor next to you until you do
It's as the next day drags on that he starts to worry that you might not be getting enough food or water. He still doesn't know if this warrants calling Julian (he'd rather not) but you need hydration
Thankfully he's kissed you plenty of times before, so it's not too nerve-wracking a task for him to take a sip of fresh spring water before pressing his mouth to yours and trying to help you drink
You didn't expect to wake up like this
Normally Muriel would be a little more grossed out about having water coughed all over his face, but he's too happy to care
Portia
If she walks into a room and sees you collapsed, she's screaming
She's screaming loud enough to be heard from the Palace, and then she's rushing towards and nearly sobbing in relief when your skin is warm and your chest is still moving steadily up and down
She doesn't know why you collapsed or what's wrong with you (if it's something she can't see, then she doesn't want to mess it up) so she avoids moving you until she has someone around to help
Ilya. She needs Ilya, and Mazelinka, and Nadia, and Asra too, and maybe all the names ending in "a"s if it'll help her figure out how to help you any sooner. She'll get you through this. It'll be okay
Between Nadia spotting the bread roll, Julian confirming that there isn't an obvious medical reason, and Asra and Mazelinka's combined magical food knowledge, it's obvious what happened
The delightful thing about a woman like Portia is that she doesn't like stopping to be sad when she knows there's still hope to work towards. Nobody knows the spell? Trial and error!
"True love's kiss" is the third thing on the list after failing to enter your dreams and dripping soup into your mouth. Waking up to Portia smugly telling her older brother that all those "fairy tales" were onto something after all is an unforgettable experience
Lucio
All he knows is that one moment, he was triumphantly announcing his return and very pleased with himself about completing a shopping trip that involved only wise spending choices
And the next moment, every wise spending choice was clattering to the floor because you weren't moving
He's been on enough battlefields to know the difference between wounded and dead, but you don't seem to be either
The worst part is, you're not waking up. No matter what he does, you don't wake up. He's seen this before - he remembers watching as a vengeful ghost as his ex-wife lay motionless for three years
Is that how long this is going to take? Three years? He's not worried about his loyalty, he'll find a place that'll take care of you while he picks up whatever jobs he needs to keep you afloat, but
What if he makes another "oopsie" and you're not there to help?
It all overwhelms him to the point that he lays his head down on your stomach to have a little moment to himself, and he turns his face against your shirt to catch any ... eye water
Apparently mouthing "I love you" against your belly button counts, because the next thing he knows you're lifting your head and asking what's wrong. He's not touching a bread roll again
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wisecura · 29 days ago
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megumi fushiguro x fem-reader
p.1
p.3  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.5
p.4
AN: Thank you for reading! Please reblog and like if you enjoy this series!
warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.
Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside his moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.
birthdays and interrogations
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Megumi’s foresight was right on the money.
His father hadn’t returned home after their spat—he’ll, not for several days.
You couldn’t help but wonder how often things unraveled like that between them, the tension simmering beneath the surface until it inevitably boiled over.
The next few months with Megumi fell into a steady routine. 
Megumi had started joining you for breakfast regularly, his quiet presence at the table becoming a comforting and consistent part of your mornings. He seemed to warm up to you a little more after your conversation that night.
Though he still didn’t say much, the steady rhythm of shared meals filled the space with a sense of easiness. More than you could expect from the unexpected blend in family.
After school, he would return home, spending his evenings—occasionally—in your company, whether it was in the living room while you tidied or in the kitchen as you cooked. He spent a good portion of time just in your presence.
He still carried his signature scowl more often than not, but it had softened over time, losing its sharpness.
You'd known early on that Megumi wasn’t much of a talker, yet the conversations you did share held weight. There was a quiet vulnerability in the way he’d let his guard down in small, careful increments. It wasn’t much, just glimpses here and there of him beneath the tough exterior.
He’d ask questions about your day, mention things about school, or make begrudging comments about Toji’s latest absence or fight.
When Megumi's birthday rolled around, you wanted to throw him a party—something simple, but enough to show him you cared. When you mentioned the idea, he brushed it off, his scowl deepening as he muttered something about birthdays being no big deal.
You could tell by the way his eyes lingered, a mix of disbelief and confusion, that no one had ever gone out of their way for his birthday before. His embarrassment was almost endearing, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of surprising him. How would the kitty puff up this time?
Toji, unsurprisingly, was nowhere to be found on the day. You hadn’t expected him to show up, but that didn’t matter. You were determined to make Megumi’s day special.
You decorated the kitchen with a few streamers and a handwritten “Happy Birthday” sign.
It wasn’t much, but you hoped it would make him happy. You’d even make a small cake—a recipe you’d found in an old cookbook—and the scent of frosting and sugar lingered in the air even after you finished baking.
The biggest challenge had been deciding on a gift. Your clan had given you a small stipend—a rare concession you’d managed to secure during one of your carefully planned visits. That much had been a stretch, but you managed. You’d met with them once or twice, offering just enough feedback to maintain their interest without revealing anything significant. It was a fine line to walk, but it granted you the luxury of a little extra money.
Megumi wasn’t exactly forthcoming about his interests, but he’d mentioned a thing or two. It didn’t hurt that you just so happened to notice the gaming system in his room.
It hadn’t taken much effort to discreetly check the brand and do a little research on popular titles that might suit him. You triple checked his current collection, making sure you didn't buy him a copy. You wrapped the games neatly, setting them on the table alongside his cake.
When he got home, he strolled into the kitchen and saw the setup. And that flustered reaction was everything you’d hoped for, even if he tried to downplay it. His scowl deepened, and his cheeks turned faintly pink as he mumbled, “You didn’t have to do all this.” But you caught the way his eyes softened, the way his lips quirked up ever so slightly, despite his efforts to hide it.
“You’re allowed to celebrate, you know,” you teased gently, pushing the wrapped gift toward him. “Come on, open it.”
He hesitated for a moment before finally reaching for the package. As he unwrapped the games, his expression betrayed a flicker of surprise, followed by something you might’ve called gratitude. He was impressed. “How’d you even know?” he asked, holding up one of the cases.
“I have my ways,” you say, keeping your answer vague. No need to admit you’d snooped a little.
The two of you spent the evening together, enjoying the quiet celebration. You’d cooked one of his favorite meals—something he’d mentioned in passing weeks ago—and lit candles on the cake, insisting he make a wish before blowing them out. For all his protests and attempts to act unbothered, you could see it meant something to him.
As the evening wound down, Megumi sat across from you at the table, fiddling with one of the new game cases. You were chatting about a sale they were having at the grocery store the next day, the air around you just seemed so lively. He’d never associated the apartment with anything other than cold and desolate.
He didn’t say much, but he wasn’t able to stop the faint smile that spread across his face. It wasn’t even a big celebration. But for the first time, in a long time, Megumi felt like someone cared.
Toji, meanwhile, continued his sporadic visits to the apartment. His presence like a weather shift—unpredictable.
Sometimes, his arrivals brought an icy chill, marked by curt exchanges and a tension you could almost taste. Other times, his visits erupted into heated arguments with Megumi, their voices echoing through the walls.
You’d learned when to stay silent, carefully observing the dynamic between them until you felt absolutely needed. When you did speak, your words were short, clipped, and almost always in Megumi’s defense.
You couldn’t help it. The boy had a way of stirring up your protective instincts, and you hated seeing the rift between father and son grow deeper with every spat. It didn’t help that you could relate to him.
And it also didn’t help that Toji was never around long enough to deal with the aftermath of these arguments. Megumi would sulk in his room for the rest of the day, shutting himself away, resulting in a silence that filled the house. You couldn’t help but associate Toji’s sporadic presence with Megumi’s absence, and it made you feel…lonely.
You’d grown so attached to the boy—his quiet company, his rare smiles. And it was becoming harder not to resent the man you’d married.
But you told yourself—it could always be worse.
Although Megumi and his father could barely share a room without wanting to rip each other’s throats out, your encounters with Toji weren’t entirely negative. He had moments of surprising thoughtfulness—checking in on you, asking if you needed anything. It was a nice gesture, though you weren’t sure how much sincerity lay behind it. He seemed intent on playing the role of “husband,” though thankfully, he hadn’t tried to sleep with you. He was away more often than not, and even when he was home, he never stayed long enough to share a bed.
He was tolerant. Leaving you somewhat restless. What did he want from you? From your marriage?
One evening, as you tidied up after dinner, Toji approached you, leaning casually against the counter. His arms were crossed as his sharp eyes studied you with an unreadable expression. This night was more tense, Megumi had left almost immediately after dinner, another small spat breaking out between the two. You’d only stepped in briefly like before, but the end result was the same. You and Toji. Bathed in silence. 
“You seem awfully protective of the kid,” his voice low but pointed. He watch you closely, gauging for any minuscule change in your expression. “…Almost makes me wonder if you’re planning something.”
You froze for a moment, his words catching you off guard. Placing a dirty bowl down a little harder than necessary. You meet his gaze evenly, with deliberation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged, his smug grin only half-formed, and his eyes serious. “Means I’m not blind. I see how you hover around him—how careful you are with your words. Makes me wonder if you’re working an angle.”
You bristled at his insinuation. You’d never show Toji much softness, that was for sure. But Megumi. Megumi was different. You make your tone as firm as you could before replying. “Megumi has nothing to do with this. I wouldn’t drag him into…whatever shit my clan is trying to stir up. He doesn’t deserve that.”
Toji’s expression shifted slightly, something thoughtful flickering behind his sharp features. He’d never heard you so defensive before. You were always so even and clipped. The reaction was reassuring, but not absolute. He needed clarification.
“So, you are reporting to them?” He'd already assumed, but he would mind you confirming it. Especially since you were being so open with him. Your clan had some ulterior motives—not that that was surprising. What clan didn’t? But to tell him so forwardly…especially knowing he could send you away. There was some level of trust you were seeking from him.
“Yes,” you admitted, though your voice softened with a hint of frustration. “But…I’m not telling them much. I don’t have much of a choice here. It’s just enough to keep them off my back. I’m not here to be their little spy, and I won’t let them use Megumi for their bullshit.” Perhaps you were hoping to gain some sympathy from your situation. You were being honest. He could tell.
But could you appeal to the better nature in the wild card standing before you?
For a moment, Toji said nothing, his sharp eyes studying you with a weight that made the air feel heavier. He hadn’t expected your tone to take on such a defensive note, the emotion laced in your voice cutting through the practiced composure you always seemed to carry.
It was a constant. Around him, you’d been nothing but polite, your speech prim and proper—you’d been a quiet presence, never revealing too much, always staying just on the edges of their fractured household dynamic.
Hell, this conversation had only started because he’d noticed Megumi’s growing attachment and acceptance towards you—something that had caught him off guard.
He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. The kid was prickly and aloof with just about everyone, but with you? He was… different. More open, even if it was subtle. Toji hadn’t decided if he liked it yet, or if it made you a bigger threat. He wasn’t entirely sure if he could trust you—or if he even should.
Your reaction left him somewhat confused. A young girl stepping into a housewife’s role for her older husband and teen son. You should be wanting an out to this. Should be less happy. Less protective over Megumi.
His gaze boring into you as if trying to peel back the secret you kept hidden. Deciding that you likely weren’t lying about your sentiments, he continue.
“You’re pretty sharp for someone so young. Playing your clan like that… takes guts. Or recklessness.”
“I’m not reckless,” your hands fidget under his words. “I just know how they operate." You mumble more to yourself. "And I know how to survive.”
His smirk returned, and he pulled back a little. “Yeah, I can see that. But you’re still a kid. You shouldn’t have to play those kinds of games.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the faint trace of concern in his voice. “I’m not a kid,” you replied softly, the words echoing with a tone of defiance that felt uncomfortably similar to Megumi’s.
“You’re eighteen,” he countered, his tone resolute and stern. “That’s young. Too young for this kind of shit. You’re not wrong about the clan. They wouldn’t hesitate to put you to use. I get why you’re doing what you’re doing. Hell,” his voice tinged with a dark sort of humor, “they’ll probably have someone else lined up for you by the end of the week if they pulled you.”
Your chest tightened at the reminder, though you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. There’s been that question that’s been burning the back of your mind since this all started. Since you met him those months ago. Something that never made sense.
“Why did you agree to the marriage then?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. “If someone else would’ve taken that place. If they didn’t force you.” If you knew my presence here could be dangerous.
Toji’s gaze darkened, lips set into a thin line as he processed your question. “Figured it was better than leaving you to someone worse,” his tone evasive. “I don’t like the clan bullshit. Never did.”
There was an uncomfortable silence before he added, almost begrudgingly, “You need protection, too. It wasn’t right what they were doin’.”
You tilted your head slightly, studying him. His words didn’t entirely align with the aloof, dismissive man you’d been learning to navigate. His cold and unpredictable nature. The Sorcerer Killer.
“So, can I trust you?” Trust that you’ll keep me safe.
That you won’t send me back.
He snorted, his smirk returning faintly. “Trust is a stretch. But for now, yeah, you’re safe here.”
The unspoken sentiment hung in the air, heavier than the words he’d spoken. You couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a promise—or maybe both. What warning could he possibly be giving you? He wasn’t someone you could necessarily lean on—let alone read, but at least, for now, he wasn’t an enemy.
Your clan hadn’t let up during that first year. The snippets of information you’d provided weren’t enough—they needed more, demanded more, than you were willing to give. Representatives began knocking on your door with frustrating regularity, their grim smiles and strained words were an uncomfortable familiarity.
The landline rang incessantly, as though they were hoping to catch you off guard. Maybe to glean some tidbit you hadn’t shared during your carefully measured visits.
You’d done your best to subtly turn them away, declining their offers with polite firmness and brushing off their pointed reminders of your “obligations.” But damn were they persistent.
They’d even popped up at the door during your shared dinners with Megumi, the unwelcome interruptions souring the brief moments of happiness. It was enough to set a nasty taste in your mouth, leaving you somewhat salty. 
You hadn’t wanted Megumi to get involved, but the way his sharp eyes tracked your every move—it was clear he wasn’t oblivious to the clan visits. Even so, he never said a word about it. Megumi had been shielded from clan affairs for most of his life, and you wanted to keep it that way. Yet, each time you returned from one of those meetings, he seemed quieter, more distant.
It was as if an unspoken itch tore at the corners of his mind, questions he wasn’t ready to put into words. He never confronted you directly, but the intensity of his gaze and the taut set of his shoulders said enough.
And your clans more prominent questions lingered in your mind:
Was Megumi truly as promising a sorcerer as they claimed?
Would he eventually be adopted back into the Zenin clan and rise to take over as its head?
Was Toji Fushiguro up to anything suspicious?
And you—were you doing your part?
Building trust, forming a bond with the two, setting the foundation for future alliances?
Should you be left at that house?
Are you being useful?
The implications were unmistakable, sinking in with a cold, relentless clarity. The only reason you were here was painfully obvious—you were nothing more than a tool. Something disposable, easily manipulated and shaped to fit their needs. Your value wasn’t rooted in who you were but in what you could do for them. But you knew this already.
You had Megumi now.
And Toji
Even if he seemed to doubt you. He had every right to. But as long as Toji backed you, this was your home. This was where you belonged. For the first time in your life, you felt like you had something real—a family. A place that felt safe.
Megumi had noticed the tension in your shoulders, the tightness in your jaw, every time you returned from one of your exchanges. He could see the way your smile strained when you came back to him. Though you tried to hide it, you never quite managed to mask your emotions fully—not from him.
He’d developed the habit early on of reading you, attuned to the subtleties in your demeanor. Without even realizing it, he’d become quietly vigilant, watching over you in those moments. Then again it was hard not to memorize something so radiant and warm. Especially when it turned sour.
In the short time you’d been there, Megumi felt like he’d come to understand you better than he expected. He’d learned so much about you—your kindness, your charisma, your warmth, and the way you had a knack for smoothing over the jagged edges in his life.
It baffled him that you’d stuck around for as long as you had, but it also stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite define. Relief? Gratitude? Maybe even a flicker of hope. You wouldn't be leaving...right?
At first, he’d been hesitant to let himself get used to you. Because...people left—that was the one constant he’d come to understand.
No matter how much you wanted them to stay, they always found a way to slip through your fingers. And good people—people like you—seemed to bear the brunt of the world’s cruelty.
Whether it was bullying at school or tragic accidents that seemed to plague life around him, he’d learned that the world punished goodness more often than it rewarded it.
And then there were the visitors—those constant knocks at the door, pulling you into conversations that had you coming back tense. He knew it was from your clan. Could hear the familiarity in the way you said their names. You'd always laugh and wave it off, but he could tell you weren't exactly comfortable. Whether it was from him or the visits, he couldn’t tell.
Each time, his unease grew, a nagging at the back of his mind he couldn’t ignore. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—would pull you away. Test your place in his life. Because that’s how it always went. Something always happened. It always did.
After a full year of hesitation and wondering. Something happened.
And everything…shifted.
p.5?
AN: Thank you for reading! Please reblog and like if you enjoy this series!
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