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no-144444 · 1 month ago

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all grown up!- a.leclerc

Day 23 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: you're back in monaco a a dog-sitter. the doorbell rings. oops.

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Back in Monaco for the first time in over a decade. Boarding school was funny, right? English boarding school, supposedly the best in the world, and you’d spent your time there, then you’d gone on to Oxford to study law, you were starting your trainee position in litigation, next week. But this week? You were a dog sitter.

You and Arthur had been best friends as children, and when you were sent away, he’d sobbed and begged you not to go. You had to, sadly being given no choice. But, for the first 6 years, Arthur and you had kept in contact, but he got a particularly shitty girlfriend who made you two drift and you hadn’t seen him since that Christmas, where he told you to stop texting him.

“Y/n!” Charles cheered as you entered his apartment. “We are so happy to have you here!”

You smiled as Leo jumped up on you. “Hi Leo!” You beamed, picking up the small dog.

“No hello for me?” Charles pouted.

“Hello Charles,” you smiled. “It’s good to see you again.”

Charles stared at you for a second. “You’re so beautiful,” he grinned. You felt your cheeks heat. Charles had always been the older brother you never had, the same goes for Lorenzo. He didn’t get to watch you grow up into the beautiful young woman who now stood in front of him. He always regretted that. He also regretted ever letting Arthur cut ties with you, but that’s what this week was for. “Come here!” He beckoned you for a hug, which you gave him immediately. You’d missed him too.

“So I’ll show you where Leo’s stuff is, and then I’ll go to the airport, alright?”

You nodded.

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You sat on his large couch, Pissaladière in hand, ready to watch a movie, when the doorbell rang. You groaned but got up regardless, opening the door without a second thought to look through the peephole.

You should’ve looked.

In front of you stood a very confused Arthur LeClerc.

“Sorry, this is my brother's apartment… who are you?”

There’s no way you’d changed that much, right?

“Umm, no one, Charles is in Spain right now, is everything alright?”

“I was sent to look after his dog?”

“I’m the dog sitter,” you told him.

“Y/n?” Lorenzo gasped, coming up behind him. “My girl, you are so beautiful, all grown up!”

You internally face-planted. “Hi Lorenzo,” you sighed.

Arthur looked even more confused, if that was possible. “Y/n?”

“Hi,” you smiled crookedly.

Lorenzo pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, Arthur staring at the two of you. “How are you?” Lorenzo asked.

“I’m good thanks,” you nodded, pulling back. “How are you?”

“I’m very good, very happy to see you!” He smiled. “I just have some of Charles' headphones, I’ll give them to you,” he handed them to you. “We should get lunch tomorrow, I’ll text you,” he smiled behind hugging you again. “I missed you so much, see you tomorrow!”

Off he went down the hall.

“I have Pissaladière if you want some,” you offered to Arthur. “Girlfriend- permitting,” you added with a teasing smile.

He scoffed, a smirk landing on his lips. “ma parole, est-ce que je vais un jour oublier ça ?” (My word, will I ever live that down?)

“Nope.”

He followed you inside and joined you on the couch as you both sat to watch whatever film you’d picked. You could feel his eyes on you as you ate. You kept yours glued to the screen, trying to ignore his presence to the best of your abilities.

“I do not have a girlfriend,” he explained.

“Good for you,” you shot back.

He was silent again for another few minutes, then spoke again. “Do you?”

“I’m single,” you nodded, pausing the show. “Is this your weird way of trying to catch up?”

He smiled bashfully. “I guess?”

“How far back are we catching up to? We haven’t spoken in… 8 years?”

He exhaled. “Long time.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

There was this awkward silence, and he felt his heart strings pull. It had never been awkward with you. He had never been awkward with you. You were never awkward with him.

You two were supposed to be two peas in a pod, the best of friends, always. Bullshit.

“We should start with the basics, eh?” he suggested.

“Blue, Pissaladière, Redbull, Charles, and probably teleportation,” you answered quickly. He stared at you in confusion. “Favourite colour, food, F1 team, driver, and what superpower you’d want to have the most.”

“You support Redbull?” he gasped.

“I don't have a great track record with Ferrari guys.”

Another jab at him. He understood your frustration, and he’d known from the moment he asked you to stop texting him that it was the wrong thing to do, but he did it anyway.

“Not just you, I promise,” you smiled, trying to combat the hurt expression on his face. His hurt expression turned, once again, to one of confusion. “I dated a Ferrari guy a few years back. Kind of a dick.”

Now his face turned to a mix of anger, confusion, annoyance, and… something else. You didn’t care enough to figure him out, and unpaused the show.

Who the fuck had gone out with you? He’d told everyone for the past 8 years who you were to him, which was… complicated. Was it one of his friends? Had they all lied to him? How did he let this happen?

“Who was it?” he asked after a few minutes, pausing the show again.

“None of your business,” you scoffed. “You can’t just walk back into my life demanding things Arthur, earn my trust again.”

“I am asking you to trust me and tell me,” he spoke calmly, but you didn’t fail to notice the tension in his voice.

“I’m telling you ‘no’.”

He sighed. “You don't have to be so difficult!”

“You didn’t need to come in!” you shot back, your voice raising to his level.

“I was supposed to say no?!”

“You’re an adult, you make your own choices!”

“I choose you!” he shouted. “I always choose you! I will always choose you! I race for you, I live for you, I fucking breathe for you! Y/n, do you know how much of my life has felt meaningless without you to tell? I love you! Is that hard to believe?!”

You were taken aback. No one had ever been so blunt with you, let alone Arthur. It was overwhelming. You hadn’t spoken to each other in 8 whole years, yet he thought about you the whole time, the same way you thought about him? What were the fucking chances? “Arthur, what is your fucking problem?” you shouted. “How can you just drop that one someone? Are you expecting an answer now-?”

“No! No, not at all-”

“You wouldn’t get one either. This is a lot to take in. Like, a lot, alright? We haven't spoken in 8 years Arth, I don’t know what to say, I-”

He smiled. “You called me ‘Arth’.”

You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Of course that’s what you got from that.”

He shrugged. “I did a very difficult thing there, I confessed first!” he defended.

“What makes you think I’m going to confess?” you smirked.

“Your childhood diary,” he smirked. Your mouth dropped open.

“YOU DID FUCKING READ IT YOU LIAR!” you shouted, throwing a pillow at him.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

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ferrstappen · 5 months ago

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everybody wants a taste vol. 2 l Lando Norris

a/n: i just had to write this to have a clear mind. it'snot the best, i'm sorry but i hope you like it anyway <3 i have a project in mind that I CANNOT WAIT to share so i needed to write this after months of promising, i'm sorry.

summary: everybody wants a taste part ii

Lando did everything he could to stop his mind from thinking about you and why you still weren’t in the hotel room.

You were wrong, you were oh-so-wrong from walking away like that in the middle of an argument, especially when he was trying to let you know how he was feeling, letting out the repressed emotions boiling in his chest for weeks, maybe he didn’t want to say out loud that they had been gnawing his insides for months now.

But when he noticed the expensive velvet dress lifeless on the floor, his heart beat faster and his hands started sweating as he reminisced about the FaceTime call while he was racing in Mexico and you were in Paris, trying to get the phone to stay upright to show him the different gowns for the multiple red carpets awaiting, planning on the color of his bowtie and shoes, whining when you insisted he had to shave, at least for the Oscars.

He was sad, yes, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off still. Lando was not going to back off, not this time. The problem was, neither were you while you walked towards the hotel room to collect your things.

It probably was the most silent plane ride either of you’d ever been on, with Lando putting on his headphones and playing a random video game as you pulled the covers and tried to get some sleep, dreading the moment you stepped inside your precious home in Montecarlo, with fans, mostly Lando’s, trying to get a peek inside the luxury car carrying you, and the painfully obvious discomfort and sadness that would go beyond the polarized windows and bright flashes.

Because that was it for the rest of the time.

Silence.

It’s not like you decided to sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened, no, it was lingering in the air; whenever you woke up, when he texted “I love you” when you let him know you got a new role, when he spent some days in England and only texted once he was there, when he felt an enormous surge of pride when your name was announced as a nominee for the Golden Globes, but seconds later his name was announced as well.

And it all came back.

Rumors started flooding, and you weren’t stupid, making an extreme effort to fly to Abu Dhabi to support him during the last race of the season, even if it meant not sleeping for almost 48 hours and flying from one continent to the other in the middle of a press tour.

Maybe that was the beginning of starting to feel like yourself again, when he spotted you and gave you his thousand dollar smile, with his eyes shining so bright in the night, his arms embracing your body as your lips found his forehead before his traveled to their home on your lips.

It was blissful, going Christmas shopping together hand in hand, carrying a list to not forget something, walking hand in hand in the cold weather, and smiling at anyone who recognized you, even if the security guard walking a few steps ahead of you warned you weren’t stopping for photos that day.

The problem was the loud places outside and cute gifts, mixing families and kisses over the helmet, were just a moment during the loud silence, the plastic smiles, falling asleep alone on your bed while you listened to his high-pitched laugh through the walls.

And in the blink of an eye, Hollywood called back and you were gone again.

It was hard to hide the fact your boyfriend wasn’t with you during his free time as he usually would, he was more than acquainted with movie critics and journalists, just as you were in the different tracks, whenever possible people knew Lando would be by your side and you’d be right there next to him.

Maybe the saddest part, you thought, was the text you received saying he wouldn’t be able to attend the Golden Globes, the night you were expected to win and keep hyping up the way to the golden statue.

“can’t go darling, they need me in HQ and then some quadrant stuff”

You ignored the pain when the stylist asked the color of your dress and if Lando was gonna wear a matching bow tie, when fans asked where he was and you had to answer he was busy even if there were videos of him on TikTok driving around Monaco and spending nights at Jimmiz.

Lando swears he didn’t start acting like that to hurt you, things just happened that way. The likes under some random beautiful girl on Instagram were just a thing of the moment, she was the girlfriend of a friend and could use the boost, or she was super nice during a night out, or she was at the apartment of some random person you’d never heard about before.

Testing started and you weren’t there, but it was easier for Lando to explain your absence: “She’s getting ready for the big night, the Oscars are around the corner and none of us need the distractions right now”

User1: yikes, not Lando saying his girlfriend is a distraction ON A LIVE INTERVIEW

User2: I give them 3 months, tops.

User3: nah I think they broke up already, they’ve been miserable since her movie premiered

User4: you mean y/n’s been miserable bc I know my boy Lando has been hitting the clubs and the likes

User5: he deserves it after his gf fucked tom holland though

User6: it’s called acting.

User5: it sure as hell didn’t look like it

User7: what was the name of that portuguese girl again????

You swore you wouldn’t see comments, but it was an impossible task, even if the result was you crying in a hotel room, alone, helpless as all you received were heart emojis, blue tickets, and voicemail.

The Oscars came and he promised he’d be there.

It was tense, but you tried your best to ignore it and say it was nerves, you’d never been nominated before and it felt like you were going to be sick.

Then, a streak of light appeared the night before when he held you tight, kissed your forehead, and said you were the best, that you were going to win and if you didn’t it wasn’t important because this was the first of many.

And then, your mind cleared of all the comments, the seen messages, and the little white lies.

You both walked the red carpet, with big smiles, and sparkly eyes as the crowd swooned while watching Lando help you with the dress, fixing your hair, carrying your purse. It was all a blur until they called your name.

Lando was the first one up, ignoring etiquette and bending and kissing you while you were processing what had just happened. The thing is, even in that hazy moment you noticed the grip of his hand on your waist tightened when Tom congratulated you before you started the short walk to the stage.

You thanked the crew, the producers, fellow actors, and Lando for his unconditional support. Even if you and he knew it was a blatant lie because of the months of uncertainty if he was with someone else, the miserable feeling of doubting yourself because maybe, just maybe, you weren’t enough for him; beautiful, rich, talented, exceptional Lando Norris.

Lando maybe suspected it but didn’t say anything as the flight from Los Angeles to Monaco repeated itself, but one thing was different. Yes, it was quiet, but not tense, he saw you concentrated on reading a book, not giving him much attention.

The car ride was the same, with flashes and people trying to reach both of you, but Lando more as he stayed behind.

You were inside the car and observed him, the beautiful women asking to have five seconds with him and he did everything with a smile. Maybe you could throw a tantrum because he was always surrounded by beautiful and smart girls who wanted a little bit of his attention, a part of his job? The answer was bitter.

The apartment was tranquil, the view of the marina breathtaking, but you knew this was the last of you there, this wasn’t home anymore.

And Lando knew it right when he saw you standing in the middle of the living room, not letting go of the luggage you were carrying, and your eyes were watery as your lips reddened.

“Please don’t,” he whispered, you were barely able to hear him.

Tears were streaming down your face as you shook your head, “You know it has to be this way. It’s not fair for us…” You took a deep breath. “No, you know? It’s unfair to me because you’re living your life, which is fine, but you left me behind because of what? Jealousy? No, Lando, just…”

Lando was silent: “I know, I know it was wrong I’m so sorry,” he mumbled.

“I know you are, but I think… I’m done for now, I deserve better and you do as well, you have to be with someone who makes you feel secure and that’s not me… I’m sorry.”

So you left Monaco, left Lando, hung the VIP McLaren lanyards, and said goodbye to the track.

You didn’t feel better, Lando didn’t feel better, but it was for the best.

Or something like that.

#f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader#lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n

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giginings · 11 months ago

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dress - h.yj

warnings: slight fluff, angst, smut, best friends to strangers to lovers, slowburn (?), drinking, honestly reader and yunjin are both gay drunk and in love, not proofread

nsfw warnings: dom!g!p!yunjin, sub!reader, oral, breast play, slight degradation (ex: slut, whore), dumbification, drunk sex, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), she finishes inside, implication of aftercare

playlist: dress — taylor swift

word count: 3k (3,047)

from daphne: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONEEEE

Being friends with Huh Yunjin was a blessing and somehow a hell of a curse at the same time. She was sweet, delicate, caring and absolutely beautiful. The kind of girl anyone would want. Perfect material for a best friend, and thankfully, she was yours. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

However, being around while she had to gently reject handfuls of guys was petrifying to witness, feeling the embarrassment for whoever was brave enough to ask the girl out. You didn’t understand it, it wasn’t like anyone who had confessed to her wasn’t good looking, but whenever you’d ask she’d simply reply with “Why would I date them when I have you?”

And every time you’d have to push down the butterflies that would appear in your stomach.

All throughout high school, the two of you did almost everything together. There was nothing that either of you didn’t know about the other. For example, you knew that her English name was Jennifer. So, from that point on, she was always Jennifer, or Jen, or Jeni. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem to like anyone else calling her that but you.

No one ever saw the two of you apart, and if you were, you’d spend the time apart calling or texting. You were forever Huh Yunjin’s best friend and she was forever your best friend. That’s how it was.

Until it wasn’t.

It was junior year, and instead of seeing her by her locker, one foot planted on it, headphones on, she wasn’t there. No biggie, she’s probably just running late. She wasn’t. She had arrived perfectly on time with some girls you hadn’t known, and honestly they looked like they would chew you up and spit you out if you had even come close to them. But, no one was going to stop you from talking to your best friend, so you pushed down your fears and made your way over.

The silence as the 5 of you blankly stared at the other was deafening, but you walked over there for a reason. “Uh…you weren’t waiting for me by your locker Jen, is there like, a specific reason why or…?” The other three girls looked at Yunjin expectantly. Your best friend looked you up and down, her gaze a bit condescending. “Do you expect me to be there everyday waiting for you to get here? I don’t have time for that, you know. I have classes to get to.”

Her tone caught you off guard, she had never acted this way toward you. “No, I just— I thought it had become like our routine now.” You had originally expected a response from Yunjin until one of the girls beside her started to speak in her place. “So what, now she can’t hang out with other people? She has other friends, ___.”

You didn’t know what to say. Looking at all of their faces, and then Yunjin’s…it was probably best for you to just go.

It had been a month. 4 weeks. 28 days since you and Yunjin had talked.

You two shared quick glances at each other in the halls while you each rushed to your respective classes, but it wasn’t enough. Even your parents had started asking you where she was, and why she hadn’t come by recently. Nothing was the same without her. Everyday you silently hoped that she would be by your locker like she used to be, and she never was. And you were starting to think she wouldn’t be, ever again.

Huh Yunjin is so mean. So, so mean.

That was what you said to yourself as your head rested on the cold metal of the locker.

Quickly being brought back to reality by your newfound friend, Chaeryeong, you turned your head in her direction to be met with an expression of pity on her face that you so didn’t want.

“___, you really have to figure things out. Either talk to her and rekindle your friendship, or don’t and never speak to each other again. Take your pick, babe.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, she told you this every other day.

“Chaer, seriously, I’ll talk to her soon!” You heard a scoff from the girl beside you.

“Yeah, right. You say that every time. When is ‘soon’, ___?”

With that, she walked away and left you to wallow in your thoughts. At this point you really should just give up. You and Yunjin would never be friends again.

“…What’s up with you?”

Despite the tone of their voice, you were oddly excited to hear it. Turning around to see the redheaded girl before you, the magnifying smile on your face was basically impossible to hide. “Jen!” She’d give you a slight smile back, not showing nearly as much teeth as you did. “Hi, ___.” You’d switch between standing on the ball and heel of your feet, clearly exciting to be talking to her after so long.

“So, um, what did you need?” She’d peek behind you, and then meet your eyes again. “I, just, um,” —she’d point her finger, and you’d turn to look in the direction of her index, “need to get to my locker.”

Oh.

You had never been more embarrassed in your life.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, sorry.” You’d quickly mutter, moving to the side so she could get her stuff. You felt so entirely stupid. Of course she wasn’t there for you, why in God’s name would she be there for you? The slam of her locker closing brought you back to reality as she gave you a quick wave and strutted down the hallway. Your eyes made sure to follow her the whole time.

The shrill sound of the bell that rang throughout the hall let you know it was time for class, and as you walked towards Chemistry, you prayed that the rest of the day wouldn’t be as…humiliating.

That was years ago.

After high school, the two of you went to different universities and never really saw each other again. Right now, you found yourself thinking of her again. Was it anything new? No. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do though, considering you were sitting alone by the bar of the club Chaeryeong had dragged you to against your will. As your best friend was busy backing it up against some random, you sat swirling your drink in it’s cup. You never really were one for clubs or bars anyway. Too loud.

It reeked of marijuana and alcohol, and the body heat that was radiating from the drunken, pervy guys around you began to get suffocating. There was no fucking way you could stay any longer than you already had. Paying for your drink and texting Chaeryeong to let her know you were leaving, you swiftly got up and made your way to the door before feeling a warm but firm grip on your arm. Obviously you were extremely frightened, ready to uppercut punch whoever was crazy enough to grab you until you realized it was a very, very familiar face.

“Yunjin?”

That was all you could force out of your mouth, your expression laced with confusion. She still had that same charming smile. The girl seemed to have barely gotten any older, but you couldn’t say you expected her to. “Hey. You probably weren’t expecting to see me here, were you?” You realized that you actually were really happy that she was there, a smile finding it’s way onto your face. “No, I— I can’t say that I did, actually. But, I am glad that we’re talking again.”

“Yeah, me too. Are you here with anyone, or…?” You shook your head in response. “Uh, I was, but I was just about to leave. Clubs aren’t really my thing, y’know?” Yunjin silently agreed with a nod, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah, they aren’t really mine either. I’m here with my friend, Chaewon. She should be…somewhere over there?” The redhead pointed her finger towards the dance floor where you saw who you assumed to be Chaewon swaying her hips to the music, drink in hand.

“Well, she looks like she’s having the time of her life.” You say, turning your attention back towards Yunjin.

She chuckled in agreement, doing a once-over of your face. “You still look as good as ever, y’know?”

Oh?

“Really?” You said in response, looking down into your cup. “Really.” You mentally cursed yourself for blushing so easily, the pink tint that painted your face getting harder to conceal. Looking back up at her, your eyes met her hazel ones. “You aren’t too bad yourself, Jen.” Her grin grew wider, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. The taller girl looked up, scanning the club before setting her drink down on the table.

“So, you said you were on your way out before I caught you, right?”

You nodded in response.

She grinned, opening her mouth once more to say, “I don’t really have the desire to stay here much longer either, so maybe we both could leave? Like, together?”

“…Sure.”

The kiss that the two of you shared was heated, her hands frantically roaming your body before reaching to help you take off your jacket. The article of clothing was quickly discarded, being thrown across Yunjin’s living room and forgotten. Everything about this was sloppy, and rushed. As if you both had been waiting for this since forever. The girl made quick work of having you up against the wall, her knee slotted in-between your thighs. Her teeth nipped your bottom lip, eliciting a whimper out of you.

Her lips started to trail down to your neck, suckling on the tender skin and leaving behind a purple bruise. Your hands made their way to the hem of her shirt, tugging it up. “Off, want it off.” You muttered, and she scrambled to tug her crop top over her head before treating it the same she did with your jacket. Her cold but gentle fingers played with the hem of your jeans, teasing you ever so slightly.

Pulling away from the kiss to catch her breath, your lips chased her own as a string of saliva connected the two of you together. “Needy little thing, aren’t you, Angel?” She’d say, tugging your pants past your thighs along with your underwear. Running a finger up your slit, you gasped from the sudden contact. “Fuck, you’re drenched. Who’s this for, baby?” The pet name went straight down to your cunt, clenching around nothing at her words. “You, only for you, Jen,” you managed to whimper out.

You felt her lips surround your aching clit, a gasp slipping past your mouth. Her tongue swirled around the bud, your eyes meeting her own. The pink muscle trailed down to your hole, her nose pressing against your clit. She made sure to keep eye contact with you as she tongue-fucked your entrance. A lewd moan emitted from you, pleasure spreading throughout your body. You notice her straining against her jeans, and you can’t help but whimper as you imagine her cock stretching you out.

She pulls away from your cunt only to mutter something about how sweet you taste, before going back to devouring your pussy. Her hand trails up to rub your clit, pinching it ever so slightly and you yelp in response. “Jen— feels so fucking good, please—“ You didn’t quite know what you were begging for, but it was like she understood you perfectly. She licks a long strip up your slit, sending shivers down your spine. Your thighs threaten to close around her head, but her hands quickly force them back open. You could feel yourself getting close, and Yunjin read you like a book. “You gonna cum? Go ahead, make a mess in my mouth, angel.”

She quickly pressed the pad of her thumb into your clit, instantly sending you over the edge. You felt your orgasm rushing over you, the feeling a bit overwhelming. Coming down from your high, she pressed a gentle kiss against your bud, making you shiver in response. Standing back up on her feet, her chin and lips glistened with your juices. The redheaded girl pulled you in for a kiss, a mewl eliciting from you as you tasted yourself on her tongue. She’d lift you up, carrying you to her couch and gently setting you down, her lips never leaving yours even for a second. Tugging your shirt up over your head and unclipping your bra, the girl bent down to suckle on your breasts, slightly pinching your other nipple. You whimpered slightly, reaching down to unbutton her jeans. She’d chuckle in response. “Impatient, are we?”

“Don’t tease, Jen. Need you, right now.” You said with glossy eyes, desperate for her to fuck you. Yunjin would do the rest of the work for you, pulling her hardened cock out of her boxers. Realizing how big it really was, you couldn’t help but bite down on your lower lip, feeling yourself get even wetter. Aligning herself up with your entrance, she’d tease your hole with her tip. “Gonna go in now, ‘kay?” You’d nod. Slowly, she’d push herself into you, hissing at the warmth of your cunt. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of her cock, the sting mixing in with the pleasure. “Goddamn, you’re tight— gonna fuckin’ split this pussy open, baby.” She’d say through gritted teeth.

Slowly starting to thrust into you, she let you adjust to the stretch. At first, it stung just the slightest bit, but then the pain left as soon as it came and left you wanting more. “Need you to go faster, Jen…” You heard her curse under her breath at that. “Faster? Okay, then.” She started to fuck you faster and harder, an almost pornographic moan sounding throughout the room from you. Her hand reaches up and rolls your nipple in between her fingers. “Fuckin’ love these tits, baby.” You whine at that, your fingers reaching to intertwine with her own.

Her movements speed up, hips thrusting into you even faster than before. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin and the squelching of your pussy every time she fucked into you spurred Yunjin on even more. “Look at you, creaming all on my dick. You’re a slutty girl, aren’t you?” At this point, you were entirely gone, only focused on the feeling of her cock pounding your cunt. “Yesyesyes, only for you, Jeni!” Your nails dug into her hand as she reached to hike your legs over her shoulders, allowing her to drill into you even harder. You let out a choked moan, feeling her reach just the right spot. Tears started to well up in your eyes, the pleasure getting overwhelming. “That feel good? You like how I fuck you, baby?” You’ve been rendered completely senseless, not even able to form coherent sentences anymore. She’s left you completely a mess, your lipstick smudged, mascara streaking down your cheeks.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, make you all mine. Bet you’d like that, right? Want me to knock you up?” Yunjin’s totally pussydrunk off of you, saying whatever comes to mind at this point. She’s always had a liking to you, and you were completely oblivious to it. Until now, of course. You nod, agreeing with whatever she’s saying. Her words go through one ear and out the other, you can’t be bothered to listen. Not when she’s fucking you this good. “Yes, fill me up, Jen, want your cum, please!” She thrusts hard into you at that, hissing as you clench around her. “Fuck, squeezing my cock like a whore, baby—you gonna make a mess on this dick?” You can’t even reply, gaining a sinister grin from her. She knows she’s fucked you completely stupid. Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head, lips parted and swollen from you biting down on them. Everything was hazy for you, all your senses clouded and filled with her.

You both were sticky and hot and sweaty, and the room reeked of sex, but it wasn’t like either of you could be bothered to care. “Jeni, fuckfuck—“ Your nails dug into her arm, starting to draw blood. Yunjin bent down, suckling on your neck and collarbone. “Shh, it’s okay, cum for me, baby.” Instantly, everything seemed to go white. A broken cry left your mouth as you creamed all over Yunjin’s dick, her own orgasm following shortly after. The feeling was overwhelming, the girl’s thrusts getting softer and softer. The room was filled with pants and heavy breathing. The redhead sat back up to pull out of you, a whimper slipping past your lips. Yunjin watched as both of your juices mixed and spilled out of your cunt, muttering something under her breath. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Looking back up at you, the girl peppered kisses all over your face and neck, whispering small praises about how good you did for her and how proud she is. Brushing away strands of hair that stuck to your forehead, she’d smile slightly. You felt butterflies in your stomach, it was clear to see that she had nothing for you but love. “You okay? You wanna take a shower?” Returning the smile back at her, you found it funny how different this Yunjin was from the one you saw just moments before. You definitely weren’t complaining though, you loved both sides of her. “Yes, I’m amazing, Jeni. And yes, I’d love a shower. I think we’d both benefit from taking one.” You said with a slight chuckle.

Nodding in agreement, she’d pick you up bridal style and plant a small kiss to your lips. “Shower it is, then.” You suddenly held a finger up, making her pause. “But, I think we can wait a few, right? Right now, I think we should just…stay here.” Grinning down at you, she’d nod and set you back down. “That is completely fine with me too.”

If you expected to end the night any way at all, it wasn’t to be wrapped up in Huh Yunjin’s arms, but it wasn’t like you’d have it any other way.

“There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo„

#yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #yunjin smut #huh yunjin #le sserafim smut #le sserafim #huh yunjin smut #lsfm smut #kpop gg smut #yunjin smau

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lebrookestore · 11 months ago

Text

backburner | n.jm (teaser)

Pairing: Na Jaemin x reader

Themes: college! au, exes! au, the situationship vibes are STRONG, angst, fluff, exes to ???, reader is a serial overthinker.

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, jaemin is lowkey an asshole, more to be added for the full fic.

Word count for teaser: 580 | Estimated word count: 12-15k

Summary: After three months of ignoring your presence entirely, Na Jaemin saunters right back into your life without so much as single warning, leaving you to once again pick up the pieces of your burning heart.

Notes from brooke: a late christmas present from me<3 i'm back to writing my college aus so i hope all of you will enjoy my pain (literally).

[send an ask to be added to the taglist!]

It was one in the morning when your phone rang.

A sigh left your chapped lips as you glanced down from the screen of your laptop to the device sitting by its side, your eyes burning at the too bright light emitting from your phone. The rest of your dorm was dark, having switched the lights off earlier at the request of your roommate, who had an early class the next day.

Unfortunately for you, you had an assignment due the next day that you had, as usual, left for the last minute. Music played through your headphones as you tried to construct what you deemed a coherent enough essay to submit.

Scrambling so you wouldn’t wake your roommate up, you pushed your headphones off and swiped the call icon across the screen of your phone, accepting it a second before you registered who the caller was. The contact glared at you as if it was mocking you for your carelessness and hastiness, causing you to bite down hard on the inside of your cheek.

Well. It was too late now.

Swallowing hard, you held your phone up to your ear and whispered. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

A breath you didn’t know you had been holding in escaped from your lips, having you shut your eyes and process his voice. It was funny, how just one inconsequential word from a single person could change your entire disposition.

“Jaemin? Are you okay?”

He hummed in response. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I might be a little tipsy though.”

You could just imagine him right then, a glass being gripped loosely by his fingers, leaning against some wall as he spoke to you over the phone. The image was enough that you slipped out of your bed and pacing about your room as quietly as you could, restless.

“Oh. Um, don’t drink too much.”

He chuckled, a sound so familiar yet so distant to you. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

Jaemin liked alcohol, you knew this much. He liked the way it would slowly hit his head and render him more easy going than he already was, causing that pretty smile of his to show more liberally. You were well versed with everything about him, from his walk to the way his eyes would express everything he was thinking, the slightly changes making themselves completely obvious for you,

The two of you had been so in tune with each other. Sometimes, you forgot how easy that made it for it all to fall apart.

“Okay.” You weren’t really sure where you were supposed to go with this conversation anymore. “Do you need something?”

“Not really.”

“Then….then why did you call me?” Bewilderment crept into your voice as clear as day. If you were in front of him right then, perhaps he would have teased you, tucking your hair behind your ear and muttering something about how cute you were.

He stayed silent for a moment. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

You stopped your pacing, coming to a standstill as his words settled over you. In the silence of the night, you were almost too aware of the way your heart rate increased ever so slightly.

Yunjin was right. There was hardly ever a time where your best friend’s advice wasn’t spot on, but this time you found yourself wishing you had complied and actually blocked him like she had suggested you do. Maybe then you wouldn’t have found yourself in such a position.

coming soon. | lebrookestore 2024

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captain-mj · 1 year ago

Note

You had a very short tiktok series about Gaz watch a true crime documentary about the Riley Christmas murders and one regarding ale talking about how they had a “demon” take out the Zaragoza cartel.

I’ve always wanted to see that expanded on if you could?

Hey Rose!

Gaz was politely listening to something on his phone. His earbuds had died and he couldn't find his normal headphones. He wasn't allowed to use his work ones and while normally he'd do it anyway, his phone didn't have the right adapter for it.

"And the youngest son, Tommy Riley, was found shot dead with the rest of his family. The military covered it all up. There's no evidence that wasn't redacted. What could they be hiding?"

Gaz could've swore he heard Tommy Riley before. But right now, he couldn't quite place it. He could blame it on fatigue.

Ghost walked in and stood near by. He stayed silent as he watched over Gaz's shoulder.

Gaz paused, feeling himself being watched, before relaxing immediately. "Hey, Ghost."

Ghost hummed. "What are you watching?"

"True crime documentary." Gaz answered. "Want to watch with me?”

Ghost thought about it for a minute before sinking into the chair with him. "Sure. Keep playing."

Gaz turned the captions on and raised the volume just a little. Ghost watched with him, staring impassively at the screen.

"What about his oldest brother?" The second host spoke up. "You mentioned they had two sons."

"This is all we have." A family photo of a blond woman, brunette man and their two children. She looked a bit off, almost like she hadn't been expecting to take a photo. Her hand was on a little boy's shoulder. His wide brown eyes were staring at the camera. His hand was on the slightly smaller boy's arm.

"That's it?"

"Yep. Everything about him was apparently burned. No real explanation for it."

"You keep saying him. Who is him?"

"S. Riley. It's all we have. According to the people from his home town, he was unremarkable. just... some guy. For some reason it seems, his school records were burned. His history in the military was burned. And, oh yeah, his medical records, several pages long apparently, and that's just his childhood medical records, were also burned. All different fires. All within the same week." It was clear the implication and it was now hitting Ghost that this was his fucking case.

Yikes.

Gaz laughed. "Military cover up, right Ghost? They blame everything on that."

"This one actually was."

Gaz looked unsure. "You know about this?"

"Yeah. Quite a bit." Ghost got up. "Poor bastard is dead. Died a long time ago. Military just didn't want people to know their hands were in it." He got up. "Don't listen to Ghost stories too much."

As he was leaving, he could see something in Gaz's eyes. A thought.

S. Riley.

Ghost didn't have to deal with his past for a while before he and Alejandro were staking a place out. Valeria were said to be around and that was all the excuse Alejandro needed to be there.

"You ever hear about the Zaragoza cartel?" Alejandro asked, using a hushed tone. It was clear this wasn't reverence. He was baiting Ghost into asking him to tell a cautionary tale or ghost story.

Ghost grinned under his mask. "No. Tell me."

Alejandro launched into the story with a rather good amount of showmanship. There was shockingly little embellishment, but with Roba, there wasn't much need for it. He went over the torture the men, Ghost included, endured. The drugging, the assault, the beating and fighting.

"What happened to them?" Ghost asked on cue and he could see Alejandro smiling.

"A demon. Wiped them all out. Said he wore a..." Alejandro trailed off. He glanced at Ghost. He was a smart man. But when Ghost responded by tilting his head and waving him forward to continue, he seemed to realize that the British man in front of him most likely would not have been in the middle of Mexico at the time. It made no sense. "Skull mask."

"To mock Roba?"

"Rudy thinks so. I don't."

"Why do you think he wore it?"

"I think he was a dead man." Alejandro answered. He sighed softly and his eyes closed. "Forgot how boring stake outs are."

Ghost hummed. "If you want, I could take first watch? Might be good for you to go sleep."

Alejandro nodded. "Might be a good idea." He moved his stuff and managed to lay down.

"Don't let Manuel Roba bite." Ghost grinned.

Alejandro laughed and closed his eyes. Only a moment later, his eyes fluttered open. "Did I say his first name?"

"Nah. I heard of him before. Just wanted to keep you entertained." Ghost patted Alejandro's legs and stood up. He stretched and shook his own legs out before continuing to watch out the window.

Alejandro seemed to let it go.

Soap saw the scarring on Ghost's chest where the autopsies and unnecessary surgeries had gone on. Ghost thought Soap was going to vomit when he saw the extent of it. He didn't think it was because Soap thought it was gross, his scot loved the Glasgow scars on his face and had kissed the scarring on his throat with a vigor Ghost didn't understand. But more, the fact that Ghost had clearly been tortured in such horrific ways.

Soap opened his mouth and closed it a few times before swallowing. "The people wh-"

"Dead. Killed them myself, don't worry."

"They still hurt?"

"Sometimes. I've started taking care of them more and it's not as bad."

Soap traced the mortuary scars first and then the scarring over his ribs. "This feels personal."

"He hated me because I wouldn't break. Fucking Cartel." Ghost answered softly and leaned into him. "Come on. Do you really want to spend our time together doing this?" He leaned down and kissed him.

"They also make the Glasgows?"

"Yeah. The venom scarring was my dad though."

Ghost thought Soap was going to blow up at first. Instead, he just spent the rest of their time kissing all over Ghost as if he could make up for lost time.

Ghost cheekily recommended one of his documentaries to Rodolfo. It was one of the ones that dropped part of his name in it but also insisted that he was the one to murder his family in cold blood. The documentary was one of his least favorite and Ghost had spent more than a few nights after watching it staring at his ceiling, feeling sick. But it was one of the ones that was most misleading. Rudy was smart, but the doc was mixed into several others as well so it wasn't obvious.

Rodolfo didn't call him out on it, but there was something in their eyes when they bumped into each other again. He knew. Just needed a shred of evidence before outright asking Ghost if he murdered his family.

Alejandro invited everyone to his Ranch for a celebration. There was nothing to celebrate, but they all were on leave for the first time since Los Almas.

Rodolfo thanked Ghost and Gaz for the true crime documentaries they had been sending him.

Gaz, who had started to become very suspicious about this whole thing, nodded. "Yeah, thank you for the recommendations too. The Riley Family Christmas murders were an interesting one." They both glanced at Ghost.

So did Price. He was frowning, looking almost panicked. He assumed, reasonably, that this would be a triggering topic for Ghost.

Ghost laughed. "Yeah. That's a good one. Whole family, dead and mutilated. Then they find the oldest son burned somewhere else? Fucking hell." He walked away, getting one of the spiked drinks. He also made sure to pass Price to nod at him. Price got worried and he didn't want him.

Alejandro started the tale about the Zaragoza Cartel to everyone and Soap listened to the methods of torture.

"Wait. Did you say they'd... autopsy them? While alive?"

Alejandro grinned, thinking Soap was just into the nitty gritty details. "Yeah. It was so they could put drugs directly into their organs."

"Huh... Ghost, did they do that to you? The drugging I mean."

Pause.

A pin drop could be heard.

"Yeah. Nasty hallucinogens."

"Huh. Wonder if the two groups had the same idea."

Price was catching on and he quickly glanced at Ghost who gave him The Nod. Politely, he waited until Alejandro was done before asking. "You hear about the people that escaped?"

"Yeah of course. All brainwashed though. They were half insane."

"You hear about the one that did though? Truly escaped? He was an SAS member. Vicious young Sergeant at the time. I was his Lieutenant." Price took a drink. Unlike Alejandro, there was no showmanship. No excitement. Instead, there was a string of sadness.

"S. Riley. I remember finding his patch. Right next to a bunch of bloody dog tags. Roba knew I was following him and he wanted me to know he hurt or killed some of my members. Fucking bastard."

There was a sharp moment. Everyone was putting things together.

"Riley escaped. They found him, mostly dead, wandering the border. We brought our boy home along with some of those brainwashed bastards. Didn't know they'd be targeting civilians."

Gaz gasped so loud Rodolfo jumped. "The military coverup."

"I told you not to listen to Ghost stories." Ghost smiled, taking a drink.

Price hummed. "You know, Simon. I was scared when you went missing a second time. Until I heard that cartel had been wiped off the map and I found you knee deep in bodies."

"Aye. They made one mistake that evening. Just one."

Soap asked the question, right on cue, even if he didn't know it. "Just one?"

'Yeah. Really shouldn't have killed my mom. Might've let a few of them live if they hadn't."

"Mary was a lovely lady." Price clicked their bottles together. "Raised a lovely son."

"You recommended us documentaries over your own family's murders??"

"I have to keep myself entertained somehow."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #captain price

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spennsrs · 6 months ago

Note

spencer having his partner on his stream!?

❍⌇─➭ CAN U IMAGINE HOW SOFT HE WLD BE ﹀﹀︵↷

we are going full headcanons mode stay with me here

okay so imagine if you will: spencer playing games and interacting with chat, giggling and having a time

and here comes you, coming home from a long day of work, so excited to see your boy !! your spence!!

spence knows you're coming over, so purposefully has one of the headphones off his ear so he could hear the door and chat is ONTO HIM

to be clear, his chat doesn't just know you, they ADORE you

so when he hears the door opening and your keys jingling down onto the counter, spencer is all smiles and rushes out a hurried "be back, chat" and then he's GONE

all you see is a flash of his curls before you are wrapped in a bone crushing hug and an onslaught of kisses all over your face

oh he is talkative

"hi babe" "missed you so much" "i'm so glad you're here" "my beloved"

and there's a moment of silent bliss as you hold onto each other, his fingers gripping the hem of your shirt to keep you close, your arms around his neck in a hug, eyes closed and just enjoying each other

....

and then spencer remembers he's streaming

so he pulls away from your embrace, much to both of your dismay, but boy is still CHEESIN'

"baby, i know you just came home... but do you wanna make a little appearance on the stream? y'know chat will love seeing ya"

and you hesitate before smiling softly and nodding gently and then

he is tugging you along, he's like a damn kid on christmas cause as much as his chat loves you, he loves showing you off.... absolutely basks in the attention and how ppl will say shit in chat like "ur s/o is soooo cute spence!" "one chance [y/n] i beg" "[y/n] manning the stream real????" "[y/n] nation we are eatin GOOD"

you pull up a chair to sit beside him, leaning against him, fingers absentmindedly playing with his or his hoodie sleeve or his hair as he games and talks to chat

watching him in his element reminds you why you love this dork, and you can't help but press a kiss to his cheek

and of course chat goes WILD

spencer can't help but grin and his cheeks go pink before looking at you....

"that's pretty freakin' romantic of you, dude. careful, twitch might ban me if they see this"

in which you hit his chest and go back to snuggling into his arm as he games

overall... he loves having you on stream <3

#charlie’s blurbs #charlie's headcanons #requested by :: anon !#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #reqs open #smosh spencer #smosh x reader

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yellowbunnydreams · 1 year ago

Text

Footprints (Once Upon a December) ~William Afton/Steve Raglan x F! Reader~

~Hello! I decided that in the spirit of Christmas, I wanted to write a sort of Christmassy one shot for our favourite murder man. It might be a slightly long one, but I am pretty excited to do this one!~

@ruh--roh-raggy

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

CW: Slight angst, stalking, mentions of violence and blood, attempted sexual assault

"Alright everybody, I'm heading out. Have a good night!" You called to the office, hearing their cheery goodbyes in return as you pulled your coat tighter around you and shut the door to the office. The winter chill had certainly made a claim on the outside world whilst you were sorting paperwork and signing off on work-orders. You even missed running around everybody's coffee as you pushed your hands into your pockets.

Finding your headphones in your pocket, you carefully looked around before placing them on your head, partly to warm your ears whilst you walked home. Glancing up at the dark sky, you realised just how late in the year it really was, the nights long and cold with the faint yellowish tint in the clouds that hinted snow was coming. The thought made you smile, you had been hoping for a white Christmas that year.

As you scrolled through your playlist on your phone, selecting one of your favourite songs, you found yourself humming to it. Drowning out any other sound as your boots tapped against the concrete in a tune only you could hear. Though it meant you also couldn't hear the footsteps behind you, a slightly taller figure with their hood up and breath steaming in the cold as they kept their hands in their pockets. Focused on you as you remained oblivious to the world around you aside from what was in front of you. A grin spreading on his face as he licked his teeth, imagining what sounds you would make as they pressed a gun to your stomach.

His focus on you meant he didn't noticed that he too, was prey that evening.

The second figure was quieter, and larger than the first. A switch blade heavy in the pocket of his coat as he watched the one in front of his fidget with the obvious gun in his pocket. Trying to keep it warm to prevent the mechanisms from mis-firing.

A sickly grin crossed his face as he adjusted his glasses on his nose. Amateurs needed to learn, but not on somebody he cared about.

Your head bopped away silently, doing a little dance on the side-walk that made the second figure smile. He wished he could have seen how you danced properly, nothing to hold you back, how his large calloused hands would feel with yours in them. But he knew he could never have that, not if he wanted to keep you safe. That was what he was doing in the dark, making sure that you were safe from any harm that could potentially come your way.

His footsteps sped up as you began to approach an alley, the first figure speeding up too. Pulling out the gun from his pocket and holding it loosely in his hands, licking his teeth again as he thought of what he could get you to do at gunpoint.

Your stalker wasn't going to let any of that happen.

The man with a gun felt a large, rough hand gripping the back of his neck and throwing him down the alley before he could react. Yelling as he lost balance and toppled to the floor. The man who had grabbed him pulling out the knife from his pocket and kneeling against his guts, making the first man wince in pain. Head spinning as the blade caught the light.

"You'll never touch her. Nobody will ever touch her." The man with a knife growled, raising it slightly as he watched the man below him's eyes widen, opening his mouth and holding his hands up in defence.

"Hey man, I didn't know she was taken!" The one with a knife chuckled as he ran it against the pinned man's jaw. A dark glint in his grey eyes as he tipped his head to one side, leaning in before slipping the blade into the other's throat. Hearing his words choke and gurgle as his lungs began to fill with blood, feeling the warmth against his hands.

"They never do. And she will never know either." A touch of remorse to his voice as he slipped the knife back through flesh, raising it again and bringing it back down. A satisfying spray of blood against his cold cheek.

You took one headphone out and paused your walking, turning to listen at the quiet street. Straining to listen as you were convinced that somebody had just said something behind you, or that you had heard footsteps. Brow knitting together slightly as you only heard the wind picking up and howling through bare trees. The offices lining the road silent as the grave. Placing your headphone back in, you turned back and kept walking, headed for home and to be back into the warm.

Back to safety. Where your stalker could watch you and wish for something he could never have.

You'd just finished loading up the coffee machine in the office when several of your co-workers came in. Whispering about something before spotting you and smiling at you.

"Hey! How're you doing today?" They asked, taking out various mugs from cupboards and some of them grabbing snacks. A woman with blonde hair and green eyes standing out to you as the little ringleader of the group. You couldn't really remember her name, but then again, you weren't sure that she knew yours either really.

"Not too bad, I can't wait for the snow we're supposed to get!" You laughed, tapping your fingers against the counter as you waited for coffee, thinking about the fact you wished you could be home making some sugar cookies to bring in for the office party that would be happening soon.

"Did you hear the gossip?" The woman asked, coming a little closer and acting a little conspiratorially as you shook your head. You weren't one for office politics, but it seemed to have caused a stir as even the other colleagues sat around the break-room seemed to be whispering about something in excited tones. "You know that creepy guy from Legal who always liked to bother the ladies?"

"Oh, Tim or something wasn't it?" You did recall the man. Larger, a penchant for wandering hands and a leering smile with hair that always looked greasy under the office lights. You steered clear of him after he'd cornered you against the fax machine and you'd felt his flabby hands moving over your hips when he thought he was being sneaky. Not that you'd told anybody about it, you needed the job too much to complain about somebody in his position.

"Yeah, well guess what? He didn't come in today, so they sent somebody around his house. Not there. Found his car smashed into a tree with him inside! Apparently he was pretty mangled, and they found empty bottles on the passenger seat. Drunk driving they reckon." The woman's eyes went wide and yours did too. It was a small town and news travelled fast, but you were sure gossips made it move all the more quickly than any media outlet could hope for.

You couldn't even say you were sorry to hear the news. In a strange way, you felt some relief that you wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. Thanking whatever power had made it happen, even if it was a terrible way to go. Some vicious part of you hoped that he had regrets he passed away with.

A light cough behind you stirred you from your macabre thoughts, making you jump and move out of the way as you turned to see who it was. Smiling warmly as you noticed the serious face of one of the counsellors behind you, eyeing the coffee that you'd forgotten you had started to brew.

"Sorry ladies, has this been here long?" He asked, voice gruff and gravelly, pointing to the coffee pot with a calloused finger. You shook your head, cheeks heating up slightly as you watched him reaching for a mug from the cupboard and pulling out a white one that looked tiny in his massive grip.

"How are you doing today Mr. Raglan?" You asked, smiling nervously as the older man glanced at you, raising a thick, greying eyebrow before he scratching his stubble. Humming in thought as he poured the coffee into the small cup and took a sip. Nose wrinkling and pushing up the gold framed aviators he wore slightly.

"Not too bad. I'm not a fan of the winter, Too many people being picky about their options for work." He grunted, nodding his head at you as he stepped away from the counter. "Yourself?"

"Not too bad. Stressed out really, there's just so much to do at home, I've forgotten to run to the store and get groceries again. Good thing I need to go on a diet before seeing family for the holidays!" You laughed, the woman besides you joining in. You didn't notice the frown on his face deepening as his steel eyes dragged over your figure and noticed that you had indeed gotten a little thinner.

"Well...Don't let your stress affect you. Sorry to hear you're having troubles." Raglan quietly consoled before heading back towards the offices. Sipping his coffee and nodding to anybody that passed by who called out to him.

"He's always got such a stick up his ass. But I suppose he does have stupidly low client return rates." The woman besides you muttered, grabbing her own coffee before returning to join the group she'd come in with. Loudly talking about the rumours and gory details about Tim's accidental demise.

You turned back to the coffee and grabbed yourself a mug, warming your hands on it as you slowly sipped and glanced at the growing dark outside.

As you walked up your drive-way you paused. Blinking and cautiously approaching what looked like a dark shape on your porch. Blowing your breath through your fingers to try and warm them as you moved slowly. You didn't have neighbours that close to you, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to peer at the object. Making out what appeared to be brown paper in the dark and cold.

Finally, you stood above it, frowning as you saw it was a collection of several paper bags. Reaching out cautiously, you gasped as you opened them. Eyes welling up with tears as you found the first one you opened contained plenty of tins of food. The second, some fresh veggies and the third some meats and meat substitutes as well as some cupboard staples. It was like somebody had done a shopping trip and left the bags on your door-step, and you looked around desperately. Trying to find who may have left them there.

"T-Thank you!" You cupped your hands around your mouth and called out into the night. Smiling brightly as you began to cry at the generosity. Not having a car had really limited you, and there was more food on your porch than you had kept in your house over the past month, donated by a random act of kindness. Unsure of who knew, or whether it was a mistake.

The only person you'd told were your parents and Mr. Raglan from work, but your boss had let you leave early in light of the growing dark and the fact that you had to walk home. Your parents hundreds of miles away. Mysterious benefactor it was, and your heart soared as you sniffled. Picking up the heavy bags one at a time and bringing them in from the cold.

Your stalker remained in the woods by your house, breathless as his heat steamed the air from his lips. He'd had to bolt from the side of your house, his car parked amongst foliage and mud to conceal it. It had been a risky move, to reveal that he knew where you lived. But the look of joy on your face after the understandable apprehension was worth it. And hearing your sweet voice thanking him made him shudder and groan lowly. You would never know it was him, he made sure of that.

But what he wouldn't have done to hear you say his name in that same sweet tone. The way your face lit up in a smile, he wished that you would do the same when he walked into the room. Whether you would laugh at his jokes, or cry in his arms. His calloused fingers dragged over his face and disturbed his glasses as he watched you through the kitchen window. Reaching up to put away things and organising them just so.

You hummed to yourself as you remained unaware of being watched through your window. Slowly taking your coat off and draping it across the back of your chair, hands on your hips as you stared at some of the ingredients you left out on the countertop, smiling to yourself as you wondered how you were supposed to pay back somebody who had clearly gone out of their way to not be known. But you decided you'd pay the kindness forwards instead, rolling up the sleeves on your blouse and taking out various bowls and utensils from the cupboards, turning on the radio and singing along like nobody was watching you.

"Come on in." The deep voice behind the door made your heart thump in your chest as you carefully pushed the door open. Smiling brightly as Steve Raglan looked up from his paperwork and seemed taken aback that you were the one who had entered his office. Closing the file on his desk and throwing it into the out-going tray on his desk, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his salt and pepper hair as he regarded you coolly. Your name slipping from him after a moment's pause. "What do I owe this visit to?"

"I made cookies yesterday Mr. Raglan, and I wondered if you wanted some? I know you like to take late breaks and was worried you wouldn't get one if I didn't come to visit you with them now." You explained, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment, averting your eyes from his intense gaze as he wheeled himself closer in his office chair, humming softly as he regarded the plate.

"Cookies eh? Didn't you say yesterday that you were trying to lose weight?" He asked, brow furrowing as he peered over his glasses, eventually selecting a few cookies and raising an eyebrow sceptically as he noticed the shape one of them was cut into. "Is...Is this a bunny?"

"I um...I wasn't paying attention to which cutters I grabbed and it got mixed into my wintery ones. So I made it a snowy rabbit!" Feeling your cheeks burning hotter as he called out the one obvious thing you had hoped none of your co-workers would notice. Watching as he regarded them before biting the end off of the one shaped normally for the time of year. Chest fluttering as he made a noise of approval.

"It's okay, I like rabbits anyway. Cute little things, even though their hearts beat so fast, so flighty." Cracking a small smile at the corner of his mouth, making the fluttering in your chest more erratic as he set the cookies down the desk next to his cup of coffee.

"Have a good day Mr. Raglan, I'll see you around!" Smiling brighter as you headed out of the door, receiving a somewhat cheery wave from the older man as you departed. Feeling proud with yourself that you had plucked up the courage to go to his office and talk to him.

You felt sorry for Steve Raglan, he kept to himself, quiet and reserved. He never seemed to attend office parties either and you understood his reluctance to interact. You preferred your own company too at times, but there was something about the older, broad shouldered man that made you curious about him. Whether it was his unusually strong and rough hands from the few times he'd shaken yours, or perhaps the kind smile that he reserved only for when he seemed genuinely amused by something, you couldn't deny that Raglan was an attractive man for his age.

But you shook your head free of the thoughts, placing down the plate in the breakroom and smiling as you thought about your mysterious benefactor from the previous night. Your heart skipping slightly in your chest as you wondered who they were.

As the sky grew darker again, that yellowish hue haunting the clouds and threatening to open up against the night, you thought about how you could thank the kindness of a stranger you never realised you knew.

Walking back from work for the past week had become eventful. And the point of your day where you looked outside and saw the dark winter sky closing in became both the highlight and the bane of your day.

Weird things has slowly begun occurring with more frequency since the groceries on your doorstep.

It started off as a feeling of being watched on the way back home. At first you were sure that your mind had been playing tricks on you, the cold wind howling past your ears like an ominous warning from the gothic horror novels you liked to read, the spaces between the streetlights casting long and distorted shadows. It was surely all a trick. A dream brought to consciousness by long hours and little daylight.

The second time it happened, the faintest powder of snow had settled across the side-walks. Not quite the coating you were hoping for, but you weren't going to complain that you could listen to the faint crunch of new-fallen snow under foot.

You'd taken to having your headphones on, but no music playing since you'd started to feel the eyes against your back. Turning your head around quickly as you reached the end of the street, you caught the glimpse of something moving at the corner of your vision. Pausing as your heart hammered in your chest, tracing back your steps for a few paces as you watched the dark spaces between the buildings.

Your heart sank as there were a second set of footprints beside your own, rapidly moving off into the darkness between the offices.

You'd turned tail and ran, the cold air burning your lungs as your muscles screamed. You'd never been athletic, but you could have ran a marathon in that moment if it meant getting away from the footprints.

Footprints in the snow.

The next morning you'd called in sick, waking up late and having struggled to fall asleep in case whoever had followed you was there. In case you were being watched. But eventually you dragged yourself in your warm pyjamas to the door, throwing it open and finding yourself somewhat disappointed that the snow hadn't stuck around. Your foot knocked against something and you looked down to see what it was.

A beautiful, full bouquet of flowers were laid on your step. Petals dewed up with the cold, an explosion of greens, whites and delicate blue forget-me-nots as well as some sunny yellow sunflowers. Carefully wrapped in cellophane and brown paper, tied with a purple ribbon. No note attached to them as you picked them up, and no sign of anybody approaching your door. You certainly hadn't heard any knocking.

Despite the alarm bells in your head ringing, you couldn't help the smile that had broken out on your face. Stroking the petals with gentle fingers and admiring them in the pale light of the winter sun. There was no note, but you could almost hear the message they sent amongst the faint floral scent.

'I'm sorry'

They lived in your kitchen after that, in full view of the window outside in case whoever had left them passed by. You reasoned with yourself that you just weren't going to let beautiful flowers go to waste but the small voice in the back of your head hoped that whoever had gifted you them would see them in the window. Know that you accepted their apology.

Whilst you napped in the evening, you were unaware of the smile that crossed the man's face when he saw them in the window. Feeling the rage and anger at himself for scaring you dissipate, as the petaled gift stood pride of place in your home.

The next few days had been spent glancing into darkened windows as you walked home. Trying to catch a glimpse of whoever it was that stalked you. Though you supposed 'stalked' was such a harsh word, it conjured up such a negative idea in your mind, of violence and harm against you, but you saw it more as a protective way. The flowers on your step, making sure you got home safely despite the fact you were never sure when they stopped following you on your journey. Finding a new pair of headphones carefully posted through your door when you hadn't worn them due to your ones breaking.

Everybody at work noticed your happier demeanour too, and the words had slipped out that you were seeing somebody before you even meant them to. Hearing your co-workers cooing over the fact that they brought you flowers and gifts always made your cheeks flush. You knew you couldn't keep up the façade of the mysterious date for long, but every time you talked about the 'date' who remained unnamed, you failed to notice how Steve Raglan's jaw clenched and twitched.

You had even quietly danced and sung along to a song whilst walking, hoping that the wild and dramatic spins of a ballroom dance might allow you to catch a glimpse of your follower. 'Once Upon a December' from one of your favourite movies, almost imagining your own sparkling ballgown and sweeping dance with a prince as you did so.

You never saw the man behind you smiling at the sight, humming along quietly to the tune and his feet moving a little to match the way you danced.

The office party had been a roaring success, although you had spent hours agonising over what to wear and checking the weather report to make sure you wouldn't be too col. Deciding to wear a knee length gold sequinned dress and some black kitten heels, your hair done up nicely with some loose strands framing your face. In the low light, you looked almost like a princess.

There had been dancing, nothing like the dancing you had performed on your walk home, but you had politely declined multiple times when some of your male colleagues insisted that you go back to their home because snow was predicted to start. Perhaps it was the slight alcoholic buzz, but you refused on the grounds that it wasn't meant to snow. Of course there was one ass-hat who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, leaving your arm hurting and potentially bruised from where his fingers had gripped you tightly, trying to drag you. You were grateful for Steve Raglan appearing, distracting the man enough for you to slip away and make the decision to go home. The cold biting at your skin as you stepped outside.

The snow had begun to fall as you walked home from the office, the fresh blanket of white crunching slightly under your feet. Muffling any other sounds and turning the street silent, shivering as you wished you had brought a jacket to wear over your gold sequined party dress. But to your credit, the weather hadn't predicted snow for the day of the office party and now your little black heels didn't offer much protection against the cold and wet.

You couldn't hear anything. There were eyes on your back and somehow, you were excited that they were there.

As you passed by a window, you glanced to one side. Seeing the goose bumps along your skin, the way your lips had turned blue with cold. And the tall figure following quickly behind.

He kept a pace similar to yours. Left step, right step. Always in strides that looked painfully out of place so that they wouldn't crush the snow outside of your footprints. He didn't want to scare you again. You shivered, turning your attention ahead so he wouldn't know you'd seen him.

Suddenly, you allowed yourself to stop, heart pounding in your chest as you swallowed softly. You daren't look at the reflection in the window again, in case it wasn't real. Wasn't what you wanted to see.

"I know you're there." You called out softly, letting the snow absorb your words and so it felt like only your ears could hear them. "I guess...I should call you my shadow at this point."

No reply. Not a whisper apart from the caress of the wind against the buildings and between the cracks. Rattling glass and shifting the sequins on your dress.

But not alone.

"Thank you for the flowers, they really were lovely. And I'm guessing you were the groceries too? And my new headphones?" Keeping your eyes forwards, you tipped your head back and felt the snow falling against your cheeks. Breath steaming the air as you felt yourself shivering. Walking had been cold but okay, but now that you had stopped, the cold suddenly settled into your body and you couldn't help the shaking.

Crunching came from behind you as you felt your shoulders tense instinctually. Only a few steps, seeming to move out of your footprints so that you could hear them approaching. You counted two steps, wondering how close your follower was, but fighting back the curiosity burning in your chest to make you turn and look.

"I promise I won't turn around. I....I just wanted to thank you, but I also wanted to know..why me?" You asked, feeling the chill biting at your lungs and inside your throat as you breathed.

"You were so beautiful when we first met." The voice made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, how deep and gravelly it was. A hint of an accent you couldn't place that made it all the more alluring as you closed your eyes. Keeping your promise to not turn around and look. "And then...when I saw you walking home, I just..began to follow."

"Why didn't you introduce yourself? You sound handsome. I'm sure I would have said yes to-"

"Because I'm a bad man. Bad men like me don't get to have happy chances with girls who dance along the side-walks and hum along to songs like something out of a fairy-tale." He interrupted, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you back. So tantalisingly close, yet so far away. Swallowing softly as his heart beat quickly in his chest, unsure how to approach now that you were the one who had challenged him. Broken the silent wall he was comfortable to hide behind.

"If you were bad, you would have hurt me." You whispered, your own heart pounding in your chest as you opened your eyes and stared down the dark street. Straining to hear anything. Wondering if you were experiencing fever dream brought on by hypothermia before you heard the quiet sound of the footprints being marked into snow again.

There was a moment of pause before the final step was taken, feeling a presence ghosting against your back and hearing deep, slow breathing above your head. Not daring to move a muscle, you watched from the corner of your eyes as a large hand moved to your arm where bruises had begun to form. Eyes widening as you realised that the fingers were coated in red, leaving tiny streaks down your arm as you shivered under the snowflake like touch. Silence between you not uncomfortable as his other hand reached around, moving with the one barely touching your arm as he held them out in front of you.

His hands were coated in blood. Sticky and wet in the low light of the streetlamp, the snow sticking to it for a moment before it melted from the heat of his hands. You could see even under the gore that they were rough, calloused fingers. Hands that had led a hard life, clearly having taken it before, the evidence dripping from his fingertips occasionally and turning the snow beneath pink.

Carefully, your own hands moved onto his, ignoring the slickness beneath your slender fingers. He flinched as you touched him, but allowed your hands on top of his and you could feel him tensing behind your back as you pulled them against you. Blood against the gold sequins as his large hands instinctually wrapped around your stomach in a hug. Pulling you against his unknown body and the feeling of his chin resting against your head securing it so that you couldn't break your promise. He was trembling, joining your shivers as you both stood still for a moment.

"Aren't you afraid?" The question came from a broken, hoarse voice that made your heart break slightly. Your hands squeezed him tighter to you, gently pulling one from your midriff and looking at his shaking fingers as you placed your palm against his.

"How could I be scared when your hands tremble when you hold me close like this?"

"You can see I've hurt people. There's blood all over me...and now you too."

"I assume you had a reason."

"What if that reason was because I wanted to?" He challenged, his pulse pounding in his ears as he closed his eyes, expecting you to wrestle yourself from his arms and disappear from his sight. Fade away into the snow and the winter like a scared rabbit, thinking about how he wasn't sure he could continue to live in the same place if you rejected him like that.

You gently held his hand, gentler than he would have ever hoped for but still somehow stronger than he would have imaged too. You brought his bloody knuckles to your lips, breath warming his hand before you kissed them, painting your lips red with a stranger's blood. You felt his shiver against you and the sharp intake of breath above your head told you that the gentle contact with your lips had rattled him.

"I never said it had to be a good reason." Chuckling slightly as you let his hand slip away from his grip and return to your mid-riff, hearing his satisfied hum and shaking breath as he squeezed you to him. As if he was afraid to let you go. His head moving and tilting down, kissing your head gently, leaving his lips against your hair and letting you feel your warmth breath against your body. "What can I call you, shadow?" Feeling him pause as he thought for a moment, clearing debating how to answer, whether he should answer even.

"William...You may call me William." Eventually came from his lips, making your heart beat faster as you whispered his name back. Almost able to feel how quickly his heart thumped in his chest as you spoke his name so gently. Planting another kiss on top of your head.

"Can I see you, William?"

"Not yet, bunny...I... This is more than I could have ever dreamed of already. I'm...I'm not an easily scared man, but I'm scared you won't like the person I am." He answered slowly, before his hands moved from around your waist, leaving distinct imprints across the now crimson sequins of your dress before he stepped back. Making you shiver as you didn't realise how warm he had been against your back.

There was a weight on your shoulders and a rustle of cloth as suddenly you were enveloped in warmth, hands moving to your shoulders and looking slightly as you realised he had placed his coat over your shoulders. Dark patches stained the dark fabric, but you could smell cheap cigarettes and spicy cologne, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Keep your eyes closed, please? Let me have one more dream tonight." He asked, voice wavering slightly as you nodded, squeezing your eyes shut and holding his coat closed over your shoulders. Feeling him turning your body so that you faced him.

"Don't...don't make this goodbye, William." You asked, feeling the man pause as he stepped closer again, his large, rough hand cupping your cheek and stroking it with his thumb. "I-I don't care if it takes a while.. I...I feel safe, knowing you're there."

"As if I could give you up, brave little bunny." He chuckled, the sound making you light up as he leaned in. His eyes scanned your face slowly, the way your lips trembled with cold, how you looked with crimson against your skin, the wind stirring your hair out of the neat place you had placed it in. Swallowing softly, he allowed his lips to brush against yours, and you felt what you assumed were glasses bumping against your face lightly. "I promise that my footsteps will match yours...and we'll meet again..once upon a December."

You were about to speak, but you were silenced as his lips captured yours. Moving soft and slowly, as if he was afraid he might break your much smaller frame. His lips were slightly chapped, but he relished in how soft and warm you were, keeping your cheek cupped in his hand for a moment before he broke the kiss. Leaving you whimpering slightly as his warmth was removed once again.

Your fingers danced across your lips for a moment, smiling brightly and you couldn't help as you opened your eyes. Parting your lips to speak only for the words to die on your tongue.

You were alone this time.

William had gone in an instant, leaving you shaking and desperate for another kiss. Instead only left with the ghost of it against your lips and his residual warmth from his coat against your body. The wind howling as if agreeing with your loss, eyes watering and stinging as you turned away from the dark street once again. Slowly trudging your way back home, stuffing your hands into the too-big pockets of the oversized coat, burying your face into the collar of it and breathing deeply, trying to cling onto the last of him.

Until the next time you found his footprints in the snow.

#steve raglan #william afton #william afton x reader #springtrap #steve raglan x reader #fnaf movie #william afton x you #fnaf x reader #springtrap x reader

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Note

reader being an early bird but less having none of it, whenever she wakes up without reader she goes downstairs asap and just is whiny that she can't get her morning cuddles

soft n sleepy gf lessi bear incoming.

good morning sunshine II a.russo

alessia's body begin to wake much earlier than she was ready, her sleep schedule already dictated by her disciplined regular training routine. however with today being her rest day, the girl cracked open one eye tiredly and was assured by the darkness of the bedroom around her that she did not in fact need to listen.

the blonde stretched gently and blinked sleepily before rolling her body to the side, expecting to land on top of your still sleeping form, but instead was met only with an empty space and a cold pillow.

ever since a young age you'd forever found it literally impossible to sleep in, and it wasn't for a lack of trying. you were just meant to be an early riser and a sunrise chaser, which was much to your family's displeasure. it meant 5am wake ups on christmas mornings and birthdays, your younger form much too tightly coiled with excitement to give in to their wishes you return to bed for a few more hours sleep.

the habit was even less to your girlfriends liking, the blonde striker your polar opposite. alessia forever valuing any spare time she could stretch out to remain in bed of a morning, always having described herself as more of a night owl.

alessia's favorite and only way to wake up early when she absolutely had to was always by your side, soft loving kisses peppered across her face, favorite voice singing out a raspy good morning in her ear, nails gently scratching at her scalp as you softly reminded it was time for her to get up.

yet here she was awake against her will at a time much earlier than necessary with both of you having the day off, in bed alone.

with a frustrated and tired groan the blonde dragged herself out of bed, clumsily knocking her knee on the edge of your shared bed as she shuffled toward the closed door, a string of quiet curse words falling from her lips as her mood worsened.

tucking her hands into her armpits the girl shivered as she opened the bedroom door, hit by a sudden cold draft but far too tired and grumpy to venture back and grab a jumper. instead she made a beeline downstairs kit only in a large oversized short sleeve top which she was unsure belonged to her or you, having lived together well over a year now your wardrobes had merged into one.

though still grumpy at the interruption to her desired morning cuddle plans the blondes bad mood could only hold for another few seconds as she rounded the corner and laid her bright blue eyes on you.

similarly to herself you were kit only in a large oversized top, alessias eyes unable to help but wander downwards as you bent over to grab a mug, a pair of black fluffy bed socks covering your feet as you carefully padded around the kitchen.

having not wanted to wake your girlfriend on her day off you made sure to sneak downstairs quickly and quietly when your internal alarm clock had gone off, intending to spend a few hours sat on your balcony in the warm glow of the early morning sun, perhaps with a book or a coffee in hand.

alessia's black beats headphones sat atop your head, a tired smile breaking onto the older girls face as you did a little shimmy to whatever you were listening to, clicking your mug into the bottom of the coffee machine.

you were silently mouthing the words to the song blasting in your ears as a pair of arms wrapped around you. far from expecting the company you let out a shout of surprise and pushed her away, your phone dropping from your hand onto the counter as you yanked off alessia's headphones, clutching a hand to your chest where your heart was racing.

"you're gonna give a girl a heart attack less jesus christ!" you stammered out, checking your phone screen was in tact with a shaky breath, placing the headphones down beside it on the counter. "come back to bed." alessia ignored your reaction, too focused on achieving her desired end goal which was to be wrapped up with you in bed under the warm cocoon of the duvet.

"you know i'm an early riser." you smiled as your girlfriend clung tightly onto you, gently rubbing her back as she buried her face in your neck, her arms snaking around you and sliding up the back of your top. "and you know i'm not. we both have the day off and i planned to spend it in bed with you, you're ruining that, don't be selfish." alessia mumbled against your neck, nails gently scratching at your back.

"selfish hm?" you hummed in amusement, alessia simply nodding and holding you even tighter, as if you could fly away at any given moment. the italian would often endearingly refer to you "Il mio più grande tesoro" which after must convincing she finally explained translated to 'my greatest treasure'.

safe to say you melted at the sincere confession.

"i was going to bring you up some breakfast in bed baby, why don't you go back up and have a little sleep while i cook." you tried to offer softly, already confident that you would not be able to fall back to sleep yourself.

"if you came up with me i would already have breakfast in bed." you felt the strikers cheeky smile spread against the warm taunt skin of your neck.

"alessia!" your cheeks flushed red at the comment, smacking her shoulder gently as the taller girl only leant her body weight into you more, once again pulling you even tighter against her. "so you really won't come back to bed?" she pulled her head out of your neck with a pout as you smiled but shook your head.

"i was really looking forward to laying out in the sun." you looked over her shoulder toward the balcony longingly, the small arm chair you'd planned to camp out in already bathed in the gentle orange glow, practically calling to you.

"okay." alessia seemingly gave in with a deep sigh and your heart broke a little at the noise. "can't say i didn't ask nicely." the blonde smiled sweetly in your direction before you felt your body be lifted off the ground and you squealed, wrapping your legs tightly around the strikers midsection.

"less!" you cried out in protest as she walked the two of you out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. "you go this way or i throw you over my shoulder, one way or another i'm getting my morning cuddles." alessia warned tiredly as you sighed in defeat, reaching out to gently wipe the sleep from the corner of her eye with your thumb.

"at least let me get my coffee." it was now your turn to pout at the older girl who shook her head, mumbling something about how caffeine wasn't on the agenda as you groaned, sadly waving goodbye to your early morning sun plans, alessia finally putting you down once she entered the bedroom.

"can i at least open the curtains? i get an hour of sun and you get your cuddles." you bargained , hand already on the faded material as alessia nodded in agreement, collapsing back into bed and tiredly covering her eyes with her arm, lazily gesturing for you to continue.

"can i read my book? is that okay?" you asked the striker who wordlessly nodded, arm still covering her face as she slowly adjusted to the change in lighting. you stared down at the girl beside you in adoration, counting the freckles on her nose which had surfaced after your recent trip together to ibiza.

"cmere please." your girlfriend mumbled impatiently, making grabby hands at you and turning on her side, staring at you through sleepy half lidded eyes. slipping into bed beside her you quickly grabbed your book off the night stand, shuffling closer to alessia whose body instantly wrapped itself around you.

"read to me." the italian requested tiredly, sliding her body a little further down the bed so her head could rest on your stomach, toned arms wrapping tightly around you. "are you going to fall asleep right away like when you claim its my turn to pick a movie after you finish training?" you accused jokingly but shuffled to lay down a little more, sliding your arm underneath alessia's neck and holding the book up with one hand, resting it on your knee.

"obviously." the blonde answered bluntly, eyes already closed as she felt her girlfriends body vibrate quietly with laughter beneath her own. "i love you." you pressed a kiss to her warm forehead, lips lingering there for a moment before you tangled a hand in her messy blonde locks, nails scratching at her scalp as the girl let out a small sigh of pleasure.

you began to read aloud, feeling alessia's body relax and her breathing even out as you did so. even when you were sure the girl had fallen back to sleep you kept reading to her, though a little quieter this time.

hours passed just like that with both girls wrapped up together in bed, bare legs intertwined as the warm sun of a promisingly lovely day shone through the window, bathing them in its gentle glow.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso fanfics #woso blurbs

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k9iriz · 11 months ago

Note

super fluffy christmas baking with yoshi with a pinch of smut???🙏

[ yes i can 😁 & requests are open! ]

𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳/𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘪 𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘴 [ ♫ 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘣𝘢𝘻𝘻𝘪]

𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸/ 𝘺𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳

[ warnings: extreme fluff to the max, w/ some smut, teasing and etc. ]

it was christmas eve at you and andrei’s shared apartment, just sitting around and baking cookies.

you two weren’t sure what to do with andrei’s hetic schedule, so you went to target and found some cookies to bake.

“andrei, did you finish the icing?” i asked as he was too busy with his headphones in, back on the game, as usual.

but he did finish the icing.

i walked in the living room as i slapped his shoulder, as he was so focused on call of duty, that if i was to start a fire he wouldn’t notice.

“hold on baby, give me one second…fuck bruh!” andrei groaned as he laughed it off afterwards, his focus was on the game.

i stood in front of the tv as he tried to see around me, but soonly availing, he was able to see.

i breathed out, smiling as i walked up to him. “yoshi. is that all you’re gonna do while at home?”

he wordlessly nodded, as his eyes didn’t break from the tv screen.

“you promised me we were gonna bake cookies!” i whined as unfolded my arms, pouting as he looked up at me for a second.

“we are, i made the icing, so while you were preparing the cookies and cleaning i just wanted to hop on with jamarr and the team right…quick! damn!” andrei groaned in dissatisfaction.

i rolled my eyes as made my way back into the kitchen.

andrei smacked his teeth as he put the controller down, shrtlessly walking behind me.

“don’t tell me your mad at me. i paused the game y/n.” andrei pleaded as i looked up at him, ignoring him as i began icing the cookies.

“thank you.” i smiled widely as he picked up a cookie, icing one along with me.

FOR THE NEXT twenty minutes andrei and me finished off the cookies and hot cocoa, just playfully cleaning up.

andrei smirked as he seen some icing left on the spoon. “y/n look. it’s some icing left.”

“really? you can eat it if you want to.” i shrugged as i bumped into him, the spoon getting on my collarbone, splattering icing on me.

i whined as andrei looked down at me, his hair dangling in his face. “let me get that for you.”

andrei began licking his way from my chest, soonly to my neck, making his way back down to my collarbone as a shuddered breath hitched from my lips, before kissing my lips, licking his.

no he did not…

“there you go.” andrei chuckled as i fluttered my eyes at him, knowing he did that on purpose in such a sense.

“oh you definitely set me up.” i chuckled as andrei helped he washed the leftover dishes, playing with some floating bubbles that were in the sink.

just having the best time together, quality time.

after we finished up, andrei dried his hands as i sat on the counter, eating another cookie before he stood between my legs.

“okay, we’re finished. anything else you think we can do for the holidays?” i mumbled as it went silent as andrei gave me that “look”.

i tried reading it as i suddenly caught on. “no! not that! you play too much.”

“i mean it! what can we do?” i whined, as he kissed my lips, taking a bite out of my cookie.

“hm…i really don’t know. i can take us ice skating tomorrow morning.” andrei suggested as i nodded, agreeing before i seen those eyes he gave me again.

he’s so cute. “baby?”

“yes andrei?” i smiled, looking down at him again as he still stood between my legs, placing his chin on my cleavage.

“can i go back to playing the game now?” andrei pouted, planting soft kisses on my chest.

this was a content christmas eve.

[ HELLO YALL! keep the andrei requests coming! I hope you enjoyed. reblogs are appreciated! ]

andrei taglist — • @egomuse & @glitter-vamp

#andrei iosivas x oc #andrei iosivas x reader #andrei iosivas #andrei iosivas smut #andrei iosivas fluff #andrei iosivas angst #nfl fluff #nfl smut #nfl imagines #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x reader

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houseofanticipation · 1 year ago

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You have a cnc kink. You've mentioned it to your boyfriend a few times, how you might be interested in roleplaying something nonconsensual, but you don't think he realizes how badly you need it; how you ache for it. One morning, in bed, you tell him a little more directly: you want him to surprise you, hold you down, and use you as his personal sex toy.

He's hesitant at first. He's sweet; he doesn't have the same darkness in him that you do. He says he's never imagined raping anyone, and you think he's actually telling the truth. But it isn't rape, you say, not really, because it's what you want. It's what you're asking for—begging for, really. He agrees, on the condition that you have a safe word. You say the word "Christmas" and he'll stop, check in, make sure you want to continue. There's no way you'll actually say it, you think, but you agree. If that's what he needs, so be it.

I've been watching you for months. I first saw you on the bus: it was the first time you'd "forgotten" to put on underwear, and the thrill of it had you crossing your legs and clenching your thighs, trying to keep a straight face. You told yourself no one heard the moan that escaped your lips. It was soft, barely audible, and the girl next to you had her headphones in. But I heard it. I was sitting right behind you, and I'd been watching you tremble for almost ten minutes by then. When you got up, I saw that you'd left a tiny wet spot on the back of your dress. That was when I decided to follow you.

You work from home while your boyfriend is at his job downtown. I've sat across the street for hours on end, watching you at your desk. I've seen you scrolling through tumblr during a zoom meeting. I've seen how you start to nod off in the afternoon, only to jerk awake as your head begins to droop. More than once, I've seen the urge come over you; I can always tell when it starts by a subtle motion in your hips. I don't think you even realize you're doing it at first, but before long you're lifting your dress and pulling your panties to the side and stroking yourself urgently, almost desperately. Once, you seemed to look right at me. My heart jumped, but all you saw were the tinted windows of my car. I think you hoped someone would see you, deep down. I think it made you cum harder.

The night before I couldn't stop myself. When I was sure you and your boyfriend were both asleep, I crept into your house. It wasn't hard—I've seen your boyfriend use the spare key in the fake rock. I went first to your office, where I've watched you spend hours of your life. I got down on my knees and buried my face in your chair, trying smell all the cum you've left behind on it, imagining the biggest stain to be from the time we locked eyes through my window. It mostly just smelled like old fabric, but just knowing what you'd done there made my cock twitch with excitement.

I meant to leave. I was putting my plan in jeopardy just being in there. But I couldn't stop myself. I had to see what you looked like when you slept. I crept up the stairs, stepping close to the wall so they didn't creak, and slunk in through your open bedroom door. I took a slow, silent breath to steady my racing heart. You were there, right in front of me, the first time in months I'd actually been close enough to touch you. You were perfect like that. The way that ratty old t-shirt hung off your breasts. The way you slept with your ass facing up, like you were already waiting to take me inside you. The way the outside edges of your pussy lips just peeked around the sides of your panties, teasing me, inviting me. Your boyfriend had his hand draped over your ass, but I didn't mind. It didn't change who you belonged to.

I wanted so badly to take my cock out right there. It was rock hard by then, straining against my belt, throbbing with anticipation, but I steadied myself. If I took it out now, I wouldn't be able to control myself. I'd be plunging it into you before I even had a chance to think. No, I'd spent months planning this. I couldn't waste that now. As a consolation prize, I took a pair of your panties out of the hamper. This time I was sure I could smell your pussy on them. I almost came right there.

That was last night. Your boyfriend kisses you on the cheek on his way out the door. You notice your nipples are hard, thinking about what he's going to do to you. You almost start to masturbate right here and now, but you hold off. Better to let the excitement build. You're just going into the office with your coffee when you hear the click of the front door latch. At first you think your boyfriend forgot something, but you don't hear his shoes on the floor, or his voice calling out to ask if you've seen his wallet. You turn to look out the door to your office and see a shadow on the wall beyond, moving slowly, deliberately.

It's just like him, really, to get right on with it. You'd have liked to let the anticipation build a little more, but this sort of thing doesn't come naturally to him, and you appreciate him making the effort. You turn back around in a hurry, not wanting to spoil the fantasy. You pretend to work, typing random numbers into a spreadsheet, listening intently as soft footsteps cross the floor. They come to a stop right behind you and for a long moment nothing happens. Your breath catches in your chest, your heart pounds. You don't notice that you've stopped typing as you listen to the silent room behind you.

You're moments away from turning around when a hand closes around your throat. You gasp. It's firm, forceful—you didn't think your boyfriend had it in him. You feel a hard body press against you as the hand pulls you upward, forcing you to your feet. You struggle a little bit, but not too much; you don't want to put him off. Another hand pins your arms behind your back and you find yourself being guided to the bedroom. It's actually getting a little hard to breathe, but you don't say the safe word. You don't want to discourage whatever's come over him.

You catch your first glimpse of me when I put you on the bed. I'm wearing a plain black stocking mask over my face, and my build is similar to your boyfriend's, so I don't blame you for your mistake, though I'd like to flatter myself I'm a little sturdier than him. You wonder where your boyfriend got that mask so fast, and you wonder even more, as I get on top of you to hold you down, if for some reason he already had all this rope in his backpack. You're clearly seeing a different side of him today, and you think it'd be okay to struggle a bit harder. You squirm as I wrench your arm over your head, trying to pull away as I knot the rope around your wrist, but my weight is too much. On your chest, you feel my cock twinge through my pants. Unbelievable, you think. He's actually getting off on this.

You're not holding back anymore. You shout and kick and beat my chest with your fist. The room is pretty soundproof, so you're not worried about your neighbors calling the police. With your right hand now tied to the bedpost, getting your other arm tied up isn't much trouble. Your legs are a bit harder—you actually clip me in the jaw with a well-placed kick, but that just gets me more excited, and you're too deep into the fantasy to wonder why I don't react. Before long I have you completely at my mercy, arms and legs spread wide, unable to do much of anything but look up at me.

"Now you've got me," you say. "What are you going to do to me?"

A primal grunt escapes my chest. I see the lust in your eyes, confirmation of what I already knew. You're exactly the whore I thought you were.

Your heart skips as I produce a pair of scissors from my back pocket, but of course you don't believe I'll actually cut you. What I cut is your t-shirt, starting just above your pubis and working up toward your neck. A full body shiver runs over your skin as the cold metal glides up your stomach, between your breasts, coming to rest with a final snip in the dip of your neck. For a long moment you don't dare move, lest the blade slip, and for the first time so far you feel jolt of fear. And the fear just makes you wetter.

I take a moment to admire your breasts before cutting along each shoulder to free your arms from their sleeves. I want you completely exposed. Your skirt is simpler, a single cut, and then there's nothing left but your panties. I groan approvingly when I see how wet they already are. My hands are trembling as I run them over the length of your body. I pause at your breasts to run circles around your nipples with my thumbs, admiring how they spring back up when I press them down. For my own amusement, I give one a hard flick, and you cry out. I smile behind my mask.

I continue down to your hips, and then your thighs, and then your inner thighs. You try to pull away as my fingers brush the edges of your vulva, but there's not even an inch of give in my ropes. I run my thumb down the crotch of your panties, over your clit, and you gasp as I push experimentally inward. The sight of your pussy lips bulging around your panties is enough to push me over the edge. It's time.

I stand up, kick off my shoes, and pull down my pants. My cock stands nearly perpendicular to my body. It's bigger than your boyfriend's, and shaped differently. My legs are a little hairier too. Later these differences will occur to you, but in this moment you've stopped thinking of me as your boyfriend. I am the stranger, the intruder, you wanted him to be. I mount the bed, crawling towards you on hands and knees, my black mask impossible to read. I lay the head of my cock over your vulva, and even that slightest stimulation causes it to jump and pulse as the blood courses through it. You close your eyes and quiver with fear and excitement, waiting for me to enter you, but instead you feel me tracing my way up your body, between your breasts, across you throat, and coming to rest on your lips. You open your eyes. I'm right there, towering above you, my blank face looking down expectantly. I'm not worried about you biting me. I've studied you, remember. I know you'll accept a cock once it's in your mouth.

I press your lips open, but you clench your jaw, blocking my entry. Steadying myself on the headboard, I reach behind me and stuff two fingers, along with a good amount of your panties, deep into your pussy. You gasp in surprise and pleasure and pain, and that momentary relaxing of your jaw is all I need. My cock is in your mouth, pushing past your tongue, cramming itself down your throat. You gag, but there's nothing you can do you. I moan with pleasure as you writhe against your restraints, and just as you're starting to worry about breathing I pull back up. You manage to suck in some air before I'm down your throat again, gagging you, suffocating you.

Tears well up in your eyes. You're somehow equal parts terrified and unbelievably horny. Your pussy aches with need, and you instinctively strain against your bonds, your subconscious mind trying to masturbate for you, but it's no use. Like a girl struggling to keep her head above water you oscillate between choking and gasping, choking and gasping, as my cock pounds your throat. I push down one last time and hold there—I know if I move at all I'll shoot thick ropes of cum down the back of your throat, but I have to hold on. There's more still to do. I stay there for over half a minute, letting my cock relax, struggling not to explode, while you whimper, snot mingling with saliva and tears on your face. You look up at me, convulsing with the effort of keeping my orgasm in check, and you begin to see spots on your vision. You're actually afraid for your life now, afraid you might black out if I don't pull out. You try to say the safe word, but it comes out as something like "hng hng." Even if I was your boyfriend, I'd have no idea what you were saying.

Finally, moments before darkness takes you, you feel the pressure easing, my cock sliding against the walls of your throat as I pull back. I linger in your mouth for a moment, and the euphoria of being alive combined with the anticipation of what surely must come next compels you to give the head of my cock a final parting caress with your tongue. You thank your lucky stars I didn't hear you, didn't stop. You almost ruined everything with your weakness.

Your body is racked with sobs as I crawl backward toward your lower region. It's physiological; the intensity of the moment is too much for your body to handle. I let you sit in that for a moment, stroking my cock as I watch you convulse. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

The scissors long since discarded, I remove your panties the old fashioned way: I pull on them until they tear. The crotch presses between your labia, straining against you clit, and you cry out in pain. A seam in the back rips and I have them off you. Finally, you're completely naked. Like a pig.

I lean down close to you, staring into your face, watching every micro expression. You stare back, transfixed by the flat black stocking, trying to see the shape of the face behind it. You know for certain in this moment, clear as day, that I am not your boyfriend.

"Christmas," you whisper.

I don't give a fuck what you say.

We both shudder as the head of my cock finally parts your pussy lips. It's like food for the starving; finally, your body calls out, finally we're getting what we need. You let out a long moan as the width of my cock spreads your pussy uncomfortably wide. I go slowly at first, savoring every inch of your insides, letting the anticipation build in both of us. You gasp as I reach your cervix, and cry out in pain as I push up against it, trying to fit the entire length of my cock inside you. I begin to pump, and every thrust is a new pain: your pussy straining against my girth, your cervix pounded by the head of my cock, your clit smashed each time my body slams into yours. You're screaming now, actually screaming, and crying and begging me to stop. But there's something else behind the pain (or somehow the same as the pain): a wave of pleasure, more intense than anything else you've ever felt. It starts in the soles of your feet, causing your toes to spread, then curl. It travels up your legs and into your ass, making you thrust your pelvis up into each thrust of mine. It radiates out from your groin, filling you up to the tips of your fingers. Screams turn into moans, and your pussy clenches around my cock as you cum. That's enough for me, and at long last I explode, my semen shooting into you with enough force to make you cum even harder. With each clench of your pussy I shoot another load, and the two of us are paralyzed together for a long minute, spasming in simultaneous orgasm.

At long last I slide gently out of you, my cum dribbling down between your ass cheeks. I put my pants back on, then my shoes, and then I untie you. Just your legs, mind. I don't want you uncomfortable, but it's important you be here for your boyfriend to find when he gets home. I give you a final smack on the upper thigh, and then I leave your home forever.

You feel drunk. Now that your legs are free you raise your hips in the air. Trying to keep as much of my cum inside you as possible. You wonder what your boyfriend will say. You wonder how you'll know if the baby looks like me.

#cnc free use #r@pe kink #r@pe fantasy #breeding toy #nsft #Library 🜞

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thegildedbee · 7 months ago

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Secret: May 11 Prompt from @calaisreno

Martha Hudson has a secret.

Well, she is a keeper of many secrets – those of others, as well as her own. She’s logged quite a number of years on the planet, after all, lived amongst “colorful” people, and experienced an event-filled life. It would be rather odd if she had no secrets.

This secret is neither earth-shaking nor weighty; it is a secret because she would quite prefer that others not think her to be a maudlin old lady, a somewhat pitiful headcase, as she fears they might if they knew.

The secret occurs on the 20th of each month: the 20ths are the only time when she goes upstairs to 221B, to spend some time in a solitary visit. The flat is empty, John not coming home in the days after the Fall, and then moving in with his sister after the funeral. She's not clear whether or not he is still there; all she knows is that this is where he is not. He had been reluctant to drop by, and it would be several months before she saw him again. Nearly all of Sherlock’s possessions are still in place as they were the last time he was present (minus the Stradivarius that Lord Stick Your Umbrella Up Your Arse had seized near the end of November). In the flat, it is as if Sherlock’s life is suspended in time; no one seems concerned with boxing up his things (perhaps it is because his disappearance from their lives was so unexpected and abrupt; perhaps it is just that the idea needs time to settle amongst those he left behind). The rent money is still being deposited in her account each month, which she supposes is Mycroft's doing. Perhaps the flat represents, at least in part, all of them being somewhat suspended in time.

Her visits had begun in December; at the cemetary she hadn't felt Sherlock to be near at all when she went to lay flowers at his headstone. The flat, on the other hand, feels comforting to visit, and when she's there she does feel touched by his presence.

December That first post-Fall 20th had arrived in December, on a day and an evening in which lackluster swirls of snow were dispersed erratically by the cold breezes. On a whim, she had brought up a small Christmas tree from below and set it on the table. She hadn’t been able to decide if it made the room feel more lonely, or less so; she liked it nonetheless. She had pulled a few votive candles from her apron pocket and set them on the table, and rummaged about in the kitchen until she found a box of matches (from Angelo’s, of course), and the bottle of Lagavulin a client had sent to the boys the year before, and that she guessed would still be there, inside the second shelf of the cupboard next to the fridge, likely more than half full – and yes, there it had been.

She had poured a measure of whisky into a small glass, and brought it back with her to the main room, where she had turned off the overhead light and lit the candles. She'd begun a ritual that reoccurred on each of the 20ths: she allowed fond memories from years past to surface; turned over events from recent history in her mind, recalling what details she could; and engaged in idle speculation about alternative futures that might have been. January The next month she had visited in the afternoon, bringing her duster with her. She had fluttered silently about the sitting room as she feathered the surfaces of various objects and curios: the skull on the mantel, and the skull on the wall with the headphones; the microscope and a box of nicotine patches; a closed laptop. As she made a circuit around the room the physical sense of briefly touching each item as she scattered the dust felt something like the motion of prayer beads being turned about in one’s hands. She was strangely reluctant to dust where Sherlock’s violin case had been, its contours still clearly visible; she felt a bit silly about leaving it there, but she carried on.

There were also some random items scattered about – the last person to have touched them being Sherlock himself, she thought, when he had set them down. She lightly touched the stereo record album covers near the turntable, wondering if they would spark memories for her of Sherlock's violin playing. But these were unfamiliar – one was a musical called Into the Woods, and one had an extremely disquieting picture on its cover, of a mirrored head on the floor, with the title in tiny type in the upper corner, Trouble Will Find Me. She shook her head, wistful -- that was certainly the truth, wasn’t it?

Underneath the two was a surprising find – an old book, authored by Groucho Marx, of all people, a cartoon picture of him on the dust jacket. She’d actually met the comic actor, back in her theatrical days; in between his bouts of wise-cracking, she’d found him to be a bit moody, and rather shy. She didn’t know if being in the flat was causing everything to remind her of Sherlock, but it occurred to her that he was very much like the funny man had been – gleefully firing off insults at the stuffy and the self-important. She was amused to see that it was a book of humor about paying taxes -- an exercise in showing he could make people laugh about the dullest of topics? -- and thought briefly about bringing it -- Many Happy Returns: An Unoffical Guide to Your Income-Tax Problems -- downstairs to read, but she left it where she had found it. She finished up with her task by dusting the coffee table, where there was a dvd case for The Day of the Jackal – with a rather distressing image of Charles de Gaulle with a bulls-eye target circle over his face – which lay on top of the soundtrack to The Princess Bride. That boy was nothing if not a bundle of contradictions, she reflected fondly.

February In February, she brought up some red paper poppies she'd found in a drawer when she'd been cleaning her flat, and she placed them in a tea cup as an ersatz arrangement. She made herself a cuppa and sat in a chair near the window, watching as the sunbeams filtered through the lace curtains, the patterns of light and dark shifting as time passed. After she rinsed out her cup, she had picked up the duster she’d left behind the last time she’d been there, and opened up the door to Sherlock’s room, lingering briefly in the door frame, letting the sadness flow gently through her chest.

Her gaze took in the neatly made bed and the nearly empty spareness of the floorspace, so unlike the sitting room -- and yet each room seemed to fit Sherlock’s personality equally well. She dusted off the dresser and then smoothed out the pillows, and then had moved to the bedside tables, picking up a set of books on the one nearest the door, and placing it on the bed while she cleaned the surface. More books, more very old books, starting to age into being antiques – such a wide range of topics caught Sherlock’s fancy! There was Tricks of the Master and Sensational Tales of Mystery Men by a Will Goldston, who apparently had been a stage performer, according to the back of the dust jacket; and M.R. James, A Warning to the Curious and Other Ghost Stories, which she herself would not consider to be bedtime reading, but then Sherlock was quite used to the macabre -- perhaps he had found it soothing.

She gave the silk dressing gown hanging from the back of the door a couple of pats, and then left, closing the door behind her, an odd feeling coming over that she was missing something, or had left something undone. She stood for a few moments, searching her mind, but nothing occurred to her, and she left to go downstairs and start making supper.

March John finally visited after she had sent him a text letting him know that quite a bit of mail with his name on it had collected; she hadn’t wanted to throw any of it away, and the accumulated items were rather bulky to post. She had been of two minds about mentioning the 20th as a possibility for him to drop by, but she decided if the date was significant in any way to him, and he’d like best to avoid Baker Street that day, that he was perfectly capable of suggesting an alternate. But he had said yes, and had, in fact, remarked that it would be something of commemorating an anniversary, and she had ageed, letting him have a glimpse of her secret.

They mounted the stairs together and gave each other conflicted smiles as they passed through the door to the flat. She had brought up a half dozen tulips -- two pairs of red and pink and one stem of yellow and one of orange. She explained about her monthly ritual, and how she preferred that to going to the cemetary; John had seemed to be pleased. He drifted along behind her as she moved about the flat, opening up the windows to air out the sitting room and the bedroom, and she chattered cheerfully about nonsense as best she could, to try and put him at his ease. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him slide his fingers across some of the items scattered about, and when they passed by the spot where the violin outline still remained, he gave her a smile conspiratorial smile.

He hadn't wanted to stay long, which was easy to see -- his posture was stiff, and when he stood in one place he shifted from foot to foot, and he'd begged off actually sitting down; that was fine, she understood.

She gave him his bundle of mail and teased him about the catalog picturing motorcycles barreling across rough terrain and snowboarders in mid-flight from a company named D30 that had arrived the week before, asking him if he was going to be taking up competitive motorsports anytime soon. She'd managed to wrangle the truest smile yet out of him, and he said, no, only cycling of the regular sort, as was manageable for stodgy middle aged men. She had hugged him tightly as he said good-bye at the top of the landing, and she had hoped it would not be so long as it had been previously, before she would see him again.

April On April 20th she brought up a bunch of dried lavender stems and set them up in a beaker, and then retrieved the tulips to toss into the bin and wash out the vase. As she held the expired flowers in her hand, she had a thought flit across her mind that something was not quite right; she shrugged, and threw them away, but then when she glanced at them before shutting the lid, it came to her -- yes, that was it, there was no yellow flower. She didn't think anyone had been upstairs; John and Mycroft would both have let her know if they were coming by, she was sure of it, although apparently one of them must have done so. Or she could just be misremembering the composition of the small bouquet; her memory wasn't what it once was, of course.

Putting the washed and dried vase back into the cupboard reminded her about the bottle of Lagavulin; today she thought she could do with a drink, and she brought it down from the other cupboard, and sat it on the counter. When she went to pour some into a glass, she was struck once more about something being odd -- was it that the level of the liquid in the bottle was lower than she had expected it to be? Had she had a larger portion than she remembered from her visit last December? It could be a memory lapse, of course; perhaps it was time to visit the doctor, although she really didn't want to be told that yes, her memory was going. Of course it had been near Christmas, and the first month after Sherlock's death -- perhaps she had imbibed more than she would customarily, because of the circumstances. Or perhaps John or Mycroft actually had been by. She decided it was nothing to fuss over.

When she walked back into the sitting room, she noticed that the door to Sherlock's room was open; she was certain she had closed it behind her the day of John's visit. She walked over and took a few steps inside; everything seemed as it had been the last time she was there. As she turned to leave, she thought she did catch a scent that hadn't been there in the months prior -- a woody scent she associated with Sherlock. Perhaps her moving about had set free some lingering molecules trapped inside some bit of fabric.

Or, perhaps her visits to the flat were becoming a bit too much for her, and her mind was having trouble letting Sherlock go. She decided it might be best to take a break, and skip her visits for the next month or so.

........................................................ @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper @helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk

@topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @meetinginsamarra @solarmama-plantsareneat @bluebellofbakerstreet @dragonnan @safedistancefrombeingsmart @jolieblack

@msladysmith @ninasnakie @riversong912

.............................................................................

#mayprompts2024 #calaisreno #sherlock bits and bobs #may prompts 2024 #johnlock

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