#Wedding Organizer Near Me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rowarn · 7 months

Text

NEIGHBORLY.

simon riley/reader feat. soap + gaz

tags: smut, established relationship (engaged), retired!simon, neighbors!soap+gaz, afab!reader, gn!reader, age gap (not specified but i imagine 30s/20s), long winded pwp

cw: voyeurism, size difference, no foursome, cucking, throat fucking with fingers, blowjob, dacryphilia, pet names: love/lovie/sweetheart, praise, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, wet&messy, simon picks up reader bridal, striptease?, fingering, dirty talk, praise, lots of compliments!!!, masturbation, clothed/naked sex, standing sex, hand on throat!!!!!, creampie

; two guys called soap and gaz move in next door and aren't good at hiding the crush they develop on you. your fiance, simon, decides they're fun to play with.

"You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead."

8.5k words

When your fiancé surprised you by buying a quaint little house for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives together in, you were elated. It was straight out of your dreams, cute and cozy, yellow on the outside and enough room for a little garden if you so wished. It was in a quiet neighborhood but near enough to everything you needed that you could walk there if you so chose.

It was all so perfect – living with the love of your life in your first house together. Ready to start your lives and plan the upcoming wedding. Things were peaceful and you couldn’t have been happier.

Then the house next door sold.

“You really have to give them away?” Simon huffed from where he sat at the table, cheek resting on his propped up hand. His lidded gaze followed you as you flitted about the kitchen, cat-themed apron covered in flour.

You laugh over your shoulder, “It’s the polite thing to do! We have to be good neighbors!”

“They smell good…” Simon muttered, only making your smile broaden as you walked over to him.

His hands found your hips when you placed yours on his broad shoulders, black t-shirt getting white specks all over it from the flour still on your fingers, “After I get back from delivering these I’ll make a whole batch just for you, deal?”

He tongues the inside of his cheek before nodding, “Let’s get it over with.”

“You’re coming?” you ask, brows raised in surprise.

“Of course,” he huffs, giving your bottom a little pat when you bend over to grab the tupperware out of the lower cabinet.

You giggle and carefully place parchment paper inside before organizing the cookies in a way that looks nice. You pop the lid on and make your way to the door where Simon is leaning against it with his arms over his chest.

You try your best not to ogle him but he looks damn good; a simple pair of blue jeans fastened with a leather belt and a tight shirt that hugs his pecs and stretches the sleeves around his biceps when they flex.

“Maybe when we get back,” you hum, slipping your feet into your slides, “You can let me suck your dick on the couch, yeah?”

Simon rolls his eyes but doesn’t do a good job of hiding the crooked smile that slips across his face. He turns his back to you and opens the door for you before following you out and down the porch..

His heavy boots pound against the stairs, reminding you just how intimidating his stature is. It makes you pause, halfway between your yard and the new neighbors. You turn around and look up at him.

“What?” he raises a thick brow, crossing his arms over his chest again.

“Just…” you take a few steps backwards, playfully squinting at him with pursed lips, “Stay here, okay? We don’t want to scare the new neighbors.”

“You implying I’m scary, love?” he huffs, a smirk on his lips.

“I’m not implying it, Si,” you grin, “Just stay here while I deliver these.”

“You’re the boss,” he sighs.

True to his word, his feet remain planted right where he stands as you cross into the new neighbors yard. You hop up the stairs and ring the doorbell.

You hear a clamoring from the other side of the door before there’s a slam against the surface and muffled cursing. You bite back a laugh before smiling politely when the door swings open.

Two men stand in the doorway, one with a mohawk stands closest to you – probably the one who ran into the door.

“Oh,” he clears his throat, fixing his posture before flashing you a crooked grin, “Can-can we help ye?”

The other man, with pretty, brown eyes scoots closer, bumping shoulders with the other man, “You’re from next door.”

“Huh?!” The mohawk man gawks, whipping his head over to stare at the other man, “We had a pretty neighbor this whole time and you kept it to yerself?!”

“Are those for us?” he ignored his companion and looked at the tupperware in your hands.

“Oh!” you brush off mohawks comment and nod, holding the box out, “I made you some cookies. They’re just plain chocolate chip, I hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” he kindly smiles and takes the container from you, fingers brushing against yours.

“So,” mohawk rests his arm up on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, “My name’s Johnny but everyone calls me Soap.”

“Nice to meet you,” you nod your head in greeting, introducing yourself before looking at the other man who has opened the tupperware to take a cookie out.

“Kyle,” he offers before taking a bite, humming in satisfaction, “These are delicious.”

“Hey, don’t hog those for yourself, ye pig!” Soap cries, snatching a cookie out of the container before shoving the whole thing in his mouth with a moan, “These are good.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like them,” you giggle, “You can return the tupperware whenever you’re ready.”

“So,” Soap hums before you can leave, “You’re pretty and you can bake, what else can you do? How about you come in and we can get to know each other more.”

You bashfully lower your head and laugh, “I don’t think my fiance would appreciate that very much.” You gesture over your shoulder.

Both men comically lean out of the doorway to look into the yard where Simon still stands, arms over his chest, brown eyes practically piercing through them.

“Ah, that’s a shame,” Soap mutters under his breath before sighing, “Figures, I suppose. Lucky bastard.”

You shake your head tossing a little wave to Simon before looking back at your neighbors, “I’ll be seeing you guys around. Enjoy the cookies!”

You can feel their eyes on you as you go and it isn’t until you reach Simon that you hear the door shut.

Your fiance looks down at you when you stand in front of him, “They liked the cookies.”

“Bet they did,” he hums, letting you take his hand and lead him back to the house where he proceeds to demand a fresh batch just for himself – as you promised.

The next time you see your neighbors, it’s just Kyle. You’re outside, kneeling in the grass with your hands covered in dirt as you plant some flowers.

“Hey there, neighbor,” a friendly voice calls from behind.

You turn to look to see Kyle dressed in a compression shirt, shorts, and running shoes, “Oh hello, Kyle!”

“Doin’ some dirty work, are you?” he asks, eyeing the holes you’re carefully digging.

“Just getting started on my garden,” you explain, “What about you? Going for a run?”

“That’s right,” he nods, “May be on leave but gotta keep movin’ or I go crazy.”

“Leave?” you ask, sitting up straight in interest, “You’re in the military?”

His eyes light up as he nods, “That’s right. Soap and I both.”

“You don’t live on base?” you ask, unable to hide your interest.

“Nah, had to live in the barracks for way too long I couldn’t handle it anymore,” he laughs, a charming smile that makes you smile back, “You interested in military men, love?” he asks, flirtatious tone more than obvious.

You laugh softly, “You could say that,” his brows raise in interest, “My fiance is ex-military. Discharged at Lieutenant for an injury.”

His smile is wiped from his face quickly and you bite back another laugh, “Right, your fiance.”

“I could introduce you, if you’d like,” you offer, “Simon doesn’t really get to talk to many people who know what the military is really like–”

“That’s alright, love,” Kyle says, smiling politely, “I’ve got a run to go on, I’m sure I’ll get the chance to meet him soon enough.”

“Alright,” you wave, hands still covered in dirt as he makes his way back to the sidewalk before jogging off and out of sight.

You finish planting and watering before you place all your tools in the shed and head back inside. Simon sits at the kitchen table, watching the tv that plays some movie from the living room.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets without looking away.

“Hi baby!” you chirp, making your way over to the sink so you can scrub your hands free of dirt, “I ran into Kyle outside!”

“Who?” he asks, barely showing any hint of interest.

“One of the guys from next door!” you remind him, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands dry, “Turns out they’re both in the military!”

“Is that right?” that finally gets his attention.

You nod, turning to look at him, “I offered to introduce you but I think they’re a little scared of you after all.”

He laughs through his nose before standing up, approaching you in a couple broad steps. He crowds you against the counter, hands on either side of you to prevent you from fleeing, “Think they wanna fuck you, lovie.”

You swallow thickly and look up at him, “Th-They’re just flirts…”

He hums, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, “Think I don’t know blokes like that? Young guys in the military like them only think about stuffing their pathetic pricks into whatever tight, wet cunts they can find.”

“S-Si, I haven’t showered yet…” you whisper when he starts trailing his lips along the side of your neck, “I was outside, remember?”

He scoffs, “What kinda man do you take me for?”

You giggle, squirming your way out of his hold, prancing past him and towards the stairs, “You can show me what kind of man you are after a shower.”

A grin spreads across his face as he chases after you, your sweet giggles music to his ears and cock already hard and heavy against his thigh, ready for you to be beneath him or the night.

He waits patiently for you to finish your shower. The second you’re out, a towel the only thing wrapped around you, he has you pinned on the bed.

“You like keeping me waitin’, lovie?” he huffs, nipping at your jaw as he tugs your towel open so he can palm your breasts. You spread your legs for him, legging your knees rest on his hips, “Leavin’ me here with a hard-on. Got my cock achin’, sweetheart.”

“Si…” you sigh wistfully, lashes fluttering as his dirty words make you clench around nothing, “I-I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh?” he grins, broad tongue licking flat over one of your nipples, “I like the sound of that. You gonna let me use that pretty cunt?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his strong shoulders from the pleasure his tongue brings you.

“So sweet for me,” he hums, rough hands sliding down your body, over your hips and trailing along your thighs until goosebumps rise on your skin. He brings two fingers between your legs to spread your folds apart, the sticky noise audible between the two of you and it makes him snicker, “You’re this wet?”

Your cheeks burn in humiliation, “Sh-Shut up, don’t be mean.”

“Mean?” he asks incredulously, “You’re callin’ me mean while I’m playin’ with this pretty cunt?”

You open your mouth to retaliate but he slides two thick digits into your pussy. You whimper at the burn that it causes but it fades quickly when he crooks his fingers just right to prod that sweet little spot inside you.

Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he surges up to pull you into a kiss. You whimper into the kiss as he continues to stretch you open on his fingers, carefully introducing a third so you can take his cock later with ease. As you kiss, you grind your hips against his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit. The pleasure makes you sigh and shiver, a sweet little sound that makes Simon’s cock twitch in interest.

The kiss is sloppy and wet, messy strings of spit between your lips every time you part to take a breath. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his fingers as he fucks you with them, scissoring his digits to really stretch you out. He doesn’t know how much longer he can wait

“Please, Si,” you gasp, the plea making him stop, glancing over your face to see how badly you really need it.

He sits back on his knees, flingers sliding out of your cunt with an obscene schlick. He unbuttons his jeans and moves the fabric out of the way so he can pull his hard, leaky cock free. He wraps his hand around himself, using the slick covering his fingers to lube himself up.

“Take it off,” you whine, making him pause.

He wants you so bad, just wants to fold you up and stuff his aching cock right in the tight, hot clutch of your pretty pussy. But the puppy-dog eyes you’re giving him has him huffing and obeying.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt so he can yank it over his head.

“Fuck,” you whisper, leaning up to run your hands over his chest and abdomen, feeling the firmness underneath your explorative fingers while he rids himself of his pants and boxers.

Once he’s finally bare, he gives you no more time to admire his body before he’s pinning you down underneath his massive weight. You can’t do anything but let him, breathing in his scent while enveloped by his overwhelming warmth.

He grips the base of his cock and slides the tip up and down between your folds, circling your clit to spread his precum all over it before meanly slapping the head against the little bud. The impact makes your thighs twitch and jump, a choked whimper of his name escaping your throat.

You arch your hips just right, finally drawing the fat head of his cock into your clenching cunt. He grunts, thumb coming up to swirl against your clit.

“Oh, that feels so good, Si,” you whimper, your praise making his whole body shudder as he works his hips forward, sinking more of his cock into you.

“I know, love,” he chokes out, eyes pinned on where you slowly take him inch by methodical inch, “I treat this little cunt just right, don’t I?”

“Uh-huh!” you whimper, thighs twitching against his waist when he hits that sweet spot with practiced ease, sinking balls deep easily with how absolutely soaked you are for him, “No one fucks me as good as you, Si.”

He plants both hands on either side of your head, pulling his hips back so only the head is enveloped by your hot little pussy before he rolls his hips forward and stuffs his full length right back inside. He hits your cervix, a painful shot zaps up your spine and makes you grasp his arms to dig your nails into his skin.

“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, lovie,” he huffs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as an apology for hurting you.

His next thrust isn’t as deep, avoiding slamming against your poor cervix but still deep enough that he can grind his pelvis right against your clit every time his hips meet yours.

“Simon!” you squeal, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your orgasm building.

“Fuck, look at that,” he grunts, head hanging between his shoulders, his wild hair tickling your face as he watches the creamy mess you’re covering his cock in, “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, lovie.”

“You’re gonna make me cum!” you sob, hands slapping against his shoulders when he suddenly redoubles his efforts, encouraged by your announcement.

“I know I am, sweetheart,” he grunts, teeth clenched, “Always make this pretty cunt cum don’t I?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you wail, throwing your arms around his neck, nails drawing thick, red marks down his back, “Cumming, cumming, cumming, Si! Fuck!”

He curses right in your ear, one arm wrapping under your arched back to pull your chest snug against his. He grinds his cock into you, no longer pounding into the gushing heat of your pillowy cunt, humping his pelvis against your clit to work you through the orgasm.

When you sag against him, sticky cunt still spasming around him from the aftershocks, he starts fucking you again, this time to his own end. He grunts and groans in your ear, body trembling from the effort of getting his own orgasm – his reward for making you cum nice and hard around him like you deserve.

“Shit, I love you s’much,” he slurs, lips getting loose from how close his high grows closer. His heavy balls slap against you, aching from how full they are, needing to fill you up with the load he built up just for you, “My pretty baby, so sweet and wet for me. A nice, perfect cunt for me to fuck, shit.”

Your cunt clenches pathetically at his filthy words, hearts in your eyes as you watch how handsome he looks with his brows furrowed and his pupils blown huge, making his brown eyes appear black, “Love you, Si. Please cum inside me, wanna feel you cum, please.”

He pants, slumping against your chest as he uselessly works his hips until his orgasm finally washes over him, spilling his cum inside you with a final, long, drawn out moan.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, hoarse and breathless as his cock throbs and pulses, spitting out ropes of cum that fill you up just right, “Take it all.”

“Ah…Si…” you sigh softly, carding your fingers through his hair as he rests against you, waiting for his cock to stop twitching from the aftershocks before he pulls out.

“You alright, lovie?” he coos, soothing his large hands over your body, “You did so well.”

You smile, cheeks warm and body buzzing from the incredible dick he had just given you, “Never better. You’re so handsome.”

He scoffs, rolling over to toss his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He picks up his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe off his softened cock, cleaning the mess of your combined cum off of himself.

You hum, “I have to take another shower. Would you like to join me this time?”

He looks up at that, eyes twinkling in interest.

One afternoon, there’s a knock on your door that interrupts your peaceful dinner preparations. You wipe your hands off on your apron and make your way to it, passing by where Simon is transferring the wet clothes into the dryer.

On the other side stands Soap, an empty tupperware container in his hands.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, holding the box out, “Gaz and I loved ‘em.”

“I’m glad to hear it!” you giggle, taking it from his hands, careful not to touch his hands with leftover vegetable residue on your own.

“Somethin’ smells heavenly,” he groans, leaning over your shoulder to take a whiff of the aroma drifting from your kitchen.

“I’m just making dinner,” you explain with a little shrug.

“Guess you’re one hell of a cook too, huh?” he compliments, a charming smile on his face.

“I get by,” you laugh.

“Say,” he says suddenly, “Is that big bastard really your fiance?”

You blink in surprise at his bold question, “Y-Yes..?” your response comes out more as a question.

“Is that a problem?” a deep, annoyed voice comes from behind you.

You jump when Simon’s firm, tattooed arm wraps around your waist, “Si, you should be watching the stove.”

“You go ahead and finish up, lovie,” he mutters, kissing your temple before shooing you away from the door.

“Ah,” Soap clears his throat awkwardly, as his back straightens, “Simon was it?”

“You’d be wise to watch your tongue,” Simon warns, “I’m not above putting you in your place.”

“Y-Yes sir,” Soap whispers, hands clasped behind his back, “I’ll be more mindful.”

“Get the hell off my porch,” Simon orders, watching the young man tuck his tail and dash down the stairs.

Simon quietly closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen where you were plating the food, “Everything okay, Si? You weren’t too hard on him, were you?”

Simon bites back a smile and takes the plates from your hands to put them on the table for you, “Who do you think I am?”

You give him a skeptical look before taking a seat in front of your food, “I don’t want to make enemies with our neighbors, Simon.”

He sighs, taking a seat across from you, “Alright, I’ll be nice, love. I promise. I’ll go over tomorrow and apologize for bein’ rude, will that make you happy?”

“Yes,” you smile, “They’re not too bad. They’re just��rambunctious. You said so yourself, you know how their types are! They’re just flirts.”

He nods, “They’re…interesting characters.”

The next day, true to his word, the next morning, Simon is standing in front of their door.

“Oh, hello neighbor,” Kyle greets nervously, “Is there something you need?”

“Your friend,” Simon grunts, “I’d like to talk to him.”

Kyle looks worried for a second, glancing over his shoulder where Simon assumes Soap was, “Whatever he did, don’t mind him. He’s just an idiot.”

Simon huffs out a laugh through his nose, “I wanted to apologize to him.”

“Oh!” Kyle gasps before looking back over his shoulder, “Soap, door for you!”

Soap rounds the corner and freezes when he sees Simon standing there, “Hello, sir.”

“Soap, right?” Simon says, “Listen, I was rude last night. I wanted to apologize.”

“Ah, well,” Soap shifts on his feet, casting a sideways glance at his friend, “I-I deserved it, I shouldn’t have said what I said either. Your relationship isn’t any of my business.”

Soap actually looks like a kicked puppy and Simon feels his own interest piqued, “Pretty, huh?”

“Sir?” Soap blinks in confusion.

Simon says your name, “Pretty little thing. Can’t blame you for makin’ eyes.”

“I…” Soap licks his lips, blue eyes wide in shock, “W-Well, yes, sir. Very pretty.”

Simon laughs softly, glancing over at his house where he knows you’re bustling about inside, “You think they’re pretty now. You should see them in nothing, bent over the kitchen table in tears.”

Soap’s throat moves as he swallows around the lump in his throat, mind conjuring up sinful images. Kyle’s eyes practically bug out of his head at Simon’s words.

The large man gives a tight lipped smile as a goodbye before he's stalking off of the porch, leaving the two young men slack-jawed and stunned into silence.

When Simon’s in the safety of his own home, he places a hand over his face and lets out the low chuckles he had been holding back.

“What’s so funny, Si?” you ask when you descend from the stairs, a laundry basket in your hands – the second load from yesterday that you hadn’t had the chance to do.

“Nothin’, lovie,” he grins, sharp canines on display, “Let me help you with that.”

“Did you make up with the neighbors?” you ask, letting him take the basket from your hands.

“I sure did,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leading the way to the laundry room.

You give him a suspicious look but decide not to press the issue further, instead choosing to focus on the other chores you still had to do for the day.

Things seemingly settle down for a little while. You don’t see either of your new neighbors except for polite greetings in passing. All in all, things seem to quiet down.

You’re relaxing with Simon on the back veranda, curled in his lap on a swinging bench with a book in your hands. Usually, you’d be scrolling on your phone but Simon was always adamant about being tech-free when you were outside together like this.

Enjoy nature and relax he would say, only laughing when you would call him an old man.

Just as you start a new chapter in your book, Simon’s hand begins to wander. Your lips twitch as you fight smiling, watching his fingers slip beneath the leg of your lounge shorts. The feeling of his callused skin brushing against the hem of your panties already has you clenching around nothing.

“Look so pretty like this,” he coos in your ear, hand coming from between your legs to wrap around your throat.

You smile against his lips, “I haven’t even gotten dressed yet today.”

“I know,” he breathes, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, simple kiss before pulling back to add, “You’re pretty without even havin’ to try, lovie.”

“You’re just trying to butter me up so I let you in my pants,” you tease, practically melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking the skin of your cheek.

“Don’t gotta butter you up for that, do I sweetheart?” he coos, “You’ll let me right between those thighs without even havin’ to ask.”

Your lashes flutter at his words, heart pounding in your ears because he’s right. Even right now, your panties have grown sticky. His thumb traces over your lips and you open your mouth to let the digit inside. The action makes him raise a brow.

“You want somethin’ down that little throat?'' he asks. You nod your head, not caring how desperate you look, “Even with our little audience over there?”

He watches your eyes widen, clearly startled out of the moment. Your gaze flicks past his face to see your two neighbors Soap and Gaz on their back porch, both nursing beers. They look away when your gaze falls on them but it’s clear they’ve been watching the whole interaction with your fiance.

“Don’t care,” you find yourself muttering, eyes falling back onto your fiance.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffs, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours, “Knew you were filthy, don’t mind if anyone watches you as long as your pretty cunt gets to cum, yeah?”

You feel breathless as you nod your head. Simon brings his index and middle fingers to your lips that you eagerly open up for him.

“Good,” he praises, slowly slipping the fingers into your mouth, careful not to gag you on them until you’re ready.

Your lips seal around the digits, rolling your tongue over the salty skin until they’re covered in spit. Then he slowly starts sliding them deeper into your mouth until the tips are buried in your throat.

“Relax, just like that, good,” he praises, cock leaking against his thigh at the sight of your eyes filling with tears. He pulls his fingers back carefully just to stuff them back in, biting back a groan when you choke around them.

Simon casts a glance over his shoulder to see the two neighbors you were giving the show to watching with wide, unblinking eyes. Neither could take their eyes off of you as you eagerly let your fiance fuck your throat with his fingers.

He could see Soap had his hand on his crotch, no doubt gripping his hard cock. Kyle at least had enough pride to not touch himself to the sight of you.

You reach up to grab Simon’s wrist, signaling for him to pull his fingers out of your mouth. When he did, a string of thick drool connected your lips to the tips. The sight made his cock throb painfully, desperate for some kind of friction.

“I want you, Si,” you whimper, reaching down to cup his hardened cock through his pants.

“Is that right?” he asks, raising a brow, “Is that pretty little pussy wet?”

You nod your head, “Want your tongue, Si.”

He licks his lips, chasing the fantasy taste of you before glancing back over to the neighbors who now don’t even bother hiding the fact they’re watching the two of you.

“Want me to eat you out right here?” he asks, subtly gesturing his head to next door.

“Don’t care about them,” you whine, a cute little frown on your face that he just couldn’t say no to.

Before you knew it, Simon was on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. You eagerly spread your legs, locking your arms around your knees to let Simon have as much room as he needed.

“Look at you,” he coos, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, exposing your drooling entrance and swollen clit.

The little bud twitched under his heated gaze, hole dribbling out more thick juices that made his mouth water. He can’t resist the call anymore, leaning forward to slide the flat of his tongue over the length of your cunt, ending with a flick against your clit that made your whole body twitch.

“Thaaaaat’s it, pretty,” he coos, muffled from the way he refuses to part from your cunt, “Let us hear you.”

Your mouth falls open as he starts eagerly tonguing your pussy, swirling the muscle inside your hole before coming up to wrap his lips around your clit. He eats messy, not caring for all the drool and cum that covers his face or drips down to the floor below.

He uses his thumbs to keep your folds spread so he can focus on your clit. His tongue swirls around and around, lathering the poor little bud in a heavy film of his spit before he’s wrapping his lips around it again and sucking.

The feeling makes your back arch and you can’t help the loud moan that tears from your throat. Your nails dig into the soft meat of your thigh, the only thing you can grab from the position you’ve chosen for yourself.

Simon’s eyes are closed and there’s a crease between his brows of concentration. Neither of you even remembers the fact you’re outside and have an audience of two just next door. All you can think about is how good your fiance’s tongue feels worshiping your clit.

“Si!” you squeal when he reaches up to tug the hood of your clit back, exposing the little bud for him to tongue at. It’s so sensitive that it aches but it feels too good to stop him, only able to lay back and twitch as you take it.

He groans in response to you calling his name, cock leaking down his thigh so much that his sweats are sticking to him. Your slick drips off of his chin and he can think of nothing but how good you smell and taste – a 5 star meal all laid out just for him.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, “You’re gonna make me cum, Si!”

He can’t even bring himself to pull his mouth off of you to encourage you like he usually does. Instead, he doubles his efforts, slurping and sucking at your clit. His jaw is aching but it’s barely a blip on his radar as he feels the tender little bud throb beneath his tongue.

Your orgasm washes over you quickly and hard. Your eyes roll back in your head as your jaw falls open, a symphony of pleasured cries flit through the air. Your fiance eagerly works you through the orgasm he so easily gave you, tongue swirling and circling your clit until your thighs clamp shut and you push him away, still trembling and shaking from the aftershocks.

He pulls back, chest heaving as he finally takes the first deep breaths he’s gotten since he started.

“Good?” he asks, licking his lips to clean your cum off of them.

You nod, breathless, “Take me inside and fuck me, please Si.”

He’s on his feet in seconds, scooping you up bridal style before hurrying back inside, forgetting all about the book you left behind – and the audience still on the porch next door.

You learn that Simon seems to really enjoy torturing your two neighbors when just a few nights later, he corners you in the bedroom.

“Our neighbor’s a nosy little bastard,” he coos into your ear.

You cast a glance over to the window where you can see Soap is lingering in front of his window, acting like he wasn’t watching and waiting to see what would happen next.

“He’s waitin’ so patiently,” Simon says, “It’s only polite of us to give him somethin’ to look at.”

“Glad to see you’re finally being neighborly,” you tease, a cheeky grin growing on your face.

Simon’s fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, sliding it up and up until you lift your arms and let him tug it over your head. Your bare breasts bounce free and Simon sucks in a breath at the sight.

“Fuck,” he coos, large hands cupping them, “Can’t believe I get to marry you some day.”

“We still need to pick a date,” you mutter, voice cracking when he wraps his lips around one perked nipple.

He groans against your chest, “I’d marry you right fuckin’ now if you’d let me.”

You whimper, hands carding through his messy hair before he abruptly pulls away. He grips your shoulders and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest and you’re facing the window – and Soap, who still stands there stunned.

Kyle pops in from the left, mouth dropping open at the sight of your tits on full display for them to ogle. Simon stares over your shoulder, watching their reactions as he gropes your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You can’t stop the soft whimpers and gasps that fall from your lips as he plays with your nipples. Your thighs clench together, a weak attempt to quell the ache that settles in your cunt. You never thought you’d enjoy being watched like this – it felt so dirty and wrong but that’s exactly what turned you on. The fact your neighbors wanted you so badly that they would just watch you get touched like this.

“You wanna give ‘em a show?” he asks, voice dark and deep in your ear, “Somethin’ they’ll be fistin’ their cocks to later?”

“Yes, anything, Si,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his wrists as he squeezes your breasts, “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Then get on your knees,” he orders, letting your chest go so you can drop to your knees in front of him, “There you go. Just where you belong.”

He unbuckles his belt and pulls his zipper down, reaching inside his boxers to pull his half-hard cock out. You watch with wide eyes as he slowly strokes himself to full hardness.

A bead of precum oozes from the tip and it makes your mouth water. Before Simon even says anything, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock. A soft, sweet sound comes from his throat at the feeling of your hot, soft tongue sliding over the sensitive skin.

His hand comes down to cradle your jaw, lidded gaze watching how you start to take him deeper.

When he feels his cock pop into your throat, it feels like the air gets punched out of his lungs. His touch moves from your jaw to your throat, feeling the way it bulges the deeper you take his length down.

He glances out the window to find Kyle has joined watching with rapt attention at how you swallow his cock. The sight of it makes him pulse in your throat and you whimper at the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue.

When you’ve swallowed all of him that you can take, you bring up a hand to stroke him to the same rhythm that you bob your head. Simon tosses his head back, brown eyes rolling into his skull at the sloppy sounds of you choking and drooling all over him.

He feels your spit dribble down his balls and over your chin to his hand. It’s everything – it’s messy and sloppy. He can’t even bring himself to look at you, too scared he’ll blow his load right down your tight little throat before he can even fully enjoy it to the fullest.

“Fuck,” he groans, the sound going straight to your cunt. You can’t help but slip your hand down your panties, finding your cunt slippery and wet. Your fingers circle your clit as you gag around your fiance’s thick cock.

“That’s it, lovie,” he huffs, “Touch that pretty cunt for me.”

Your lashes flutter at his words, rocking your hips against your own touch. Simon’s hand rests on the top of your head, slowly starting to rock his own hips, heavy balls slapping against your chin with the movement. You halt stroking him with your hand and brace yourself against his thigh, giving him permission to fuck your face as he wants.

“There you go,” he grunts, teeth gritted, “Cum on those fingers for me and I’ll cum down your throat, yeah? Think you can do that?”

You nod your head, doubling your efforts between your legs. The mess of drool that Simon fucks out of your mouth froths and drips everywhere, the entire endeavor growing messier and messier with each thrust he makes.

Simon watches the way your eyes roll back in your head, thighs twitching and spasming around your hand. He can feel the muffled vibrations as you whine against the cock filling your mouth.

With a final, deep groan, Simon’s balls draw up and his brows furrow before he’s spilling right down your throat – as deep as he can. You eagerly swallow around him, taking down every single drop he has to offer.

When he’s finally done, cock still twitching in sensitivity as he slowly softens, he pulls out. His cock was a mess, drool and cum still clinging to the skin in sticky strings.

“Fuck,” he laughs breathlessly, “That little throat is dangerous.”

You giggle, biting your lip as he moves towards the window, sending a last look to your neighbors before drawing the curtains closed. End of the show, it seems.

You never thought about how you would feel when you’d have to face your two neighbors again. Given the fact they were actively in the military, you could go days before you caught sight of one of them again. Ever since Simon had started this little game of teasing the poor guys you hadn’t actually spoken to them face to face.

“I invited Soap and Kyle over for dinner,” Simon muttered one late afternoon as he sipped on a cup of tea.

You nearly dropped the knife you were using to chop vegetables as you turned to look at your fiance in shock, “You what?!”

“Saw them while I was out on my mornin’ run,” he explained, taking a sip from his cup that was all too nonchalant for the utter anxiety that you felt, “Thought I’d be neighborly and invite them for dinner since we haven’t yet.”

“Simon!” you cry out indignantly, “How am I supposed to face them!?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, hiding his smile behind the cup.

“Th-They’ve watched us do all sorts of shit!” you whine, turning back around to anxiously cut the vegetables once again.

“So?” he hums, “We’re all adults. You think they can’t act normal just ‘cause they’ve seen you with a cock down your throat?”

You let out a frustrated sound, “You’re so-!”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he croons, placing his empty cup down, “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

You should have known better than to believe him. Simon seemingly couldn’t resist teasing the two men. As soon as all four of you were sitting at the table, you knew right away that this was not going to be the peaceful dinner you were hoping for.

Kyle and Soap were painfully quiet, trying their best to keep their eyes off of you in fear of making your fiance angry. Simon was keenly aware of this and before any of you had a chance to finish your meals, he was pushing his chair back and pulling you from your own seat, your back pressed against his front.

“I think we all know what we want,” he sighs, “So why don’t we cut the shit and get on with it.”

Rough, experienced fingers slowly start undoing the buttons on your shirt. You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead.

One by one the buttons came undone, your fiance giving you ample opportunity to stop him and back out should you decide this wasn’t something you wanted to do. But you never did.

Your breathing fastened and your heart raced in your chest at the excitement of the whole situation. Soap and Kyle sat in their seats, wide eyes following each methodical movement of your fiance until the final button was undone and they were able to see your bra.

Kyle licked his lips at the sight of your breasts wrapped in the sheet material, giving just a hint at what was beneath.

Soap follows Simon’s hand as it slides down your front to the button on your jeans. The button comes undone followed by your zipper, giving a little peak of the maroon colored panties you wore.

“What do you think?” Simon asks them, nosing softly at your cheek until you let your head fall to the side, exposing your neck for him to kiss.

“A fuckin’ dream,” Soap whispers, sounding like he’s in a daze.

Kyle audibly gulps, too lost in a daze to say anything as his eyes practically burn holes into you.

After pressing a kiss against your jaw, Simon finally slides the shirt off of your shoulders. The fabric flutters to the ground but you don’t have time to think about it before the clasp of your bra is undone and your bra joins it.

Both men at the table inhale sharply at the sight of your bare breasts.

“Prettier up close…” Kyle mutters, resting his chin on his hand, simply admiring the view before him.

Simon takes a second to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands before his thumbs hook under the band of your pants and tugs them down. You shimmy in place, helping him tug them over your hips until they pool on the ground and you can step out of them completely.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap whispers, leaning even closer from where he sits, trying to get an even better view of you standing in just a pair of pretty, sheer maroon colored panties.

“Aren’t they so lucky?” Simon coos in your ear, one hand slipping between your thighs to cup your clothed pussy while the other eagerly gropes your tits, “Gettin’ to see you like this when only I should get to.”

“Si…” you whimper, gripping his arm in your hands as he carefully strokes you through your panties.

“What do you say, men?” Simon asks sharply, glaring at your two guests.

“Thank you, sir,” both of them say in unison without taking their eyes off of you.

Simon hums, seemingly satisfied enough to slip your panties down so you’re completely bared – the only one naked in the room. It made your cheeks burn in humiliation but that humiliation only made your wetter.

Simon’s fingers slid between your folds, a sticky noise accompanying the movement. You hear him suck in a breath when he feels your slick coating his fingers. You lift your leg and place it on the nearby chair, giving both men at the table a perfect view of your pretty cunt being spread by your fiance’s fingers.

“There you go, lovie,” he coos, “Show them how wet you get for me.”

He slips his middle finger inside, letting it slowly sink in the final knuckle. Your lashes flutter at the feeling of being stretched but it’s not enough – one finger would never be enough when you’ve had his perfect cock inside you so many times before. So Simon quickly slides his ring finger in right alongside his middle and your head falls back against his shoulder.

You practically forget about the two pairs of eyes on you when he crooks his fingers just right and grinds the tips against that gooey little spot that makes your thighs tremble.

“Si!” you squeal, nails biting into his wrist as you grind your hips, humping your hardened clit against his palm.

“Yeah?” he responds, tucking you firmly against him so he can fuck you properly with his fingers.

You’re unable to stop the cries and sobs of pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm with every press of his fingers against your sweet spot and every slap of his palm against your clit. Drool drips down your chin as your whole body twitches, eyes rolling back in your head as the orgasm builds and builds.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Kyle breathes, a trembling hand placed over his mouth in awe.

Finally, your high washes over you and you slump forward, held up only by Simon’s strong arm grappled around you. Your knees tremble as Simon’s fingers continue to fuck you through it until you’re gushing in messy spurts all over his hand every time his fingers are stuffed back inside. It splatters to the floor and drips down your thighs, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

Simon pulls his fingers out of the hot clutch of your cunt with a humiliatingly loud squelch before he pops the digits right into his mouth, humming at the taste of your cum on his tongue.

He lifts your chin up and immediately plants his lips right on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You sigh into the kiss, cum-drunk brain getting lost in the familiar affection. You don’t even notice Simon undoing his jeans until you feel the hot, blunt head of his cock prodding your entrance. You whimper into his mouth when he simply ruts his hips, sliding the head back and forth, over your clit and back down – coating himself in the cum he had already fucked out of you with his fingers.

“How are you boys enjoyin’ the show?” Simon asks, suddenly reminding you of their presence.

You dazedly look at them, finding both of them sitting back in their chairs, stroking their cocks in the open. Soap’s got a thick, veiny cock that looks like it would make you cry if you tried to take it down your throat. Kyle, on the other hand, has a long, pretty cock adorned with a piercing on the tip that makes your cunt clench around nothing just imagining what it would feel like. Maybe you should ask Simon to get a piercing just to see.

“Fuckin’ incredible, sir,” Soap chokes out, squeezing his cock tight in his fist.

Simon chuckles under his breath before his attention turns back to you, a well-practiced rut of his hips sinks the head of his cock into your warm, sticky cunt. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, eyes accidentally locking onto Kyle’s, who is watching you with a dark, focused gaze.

You find yourself unable to break eye contact as your fiance slowly and carefully stretches you open on his cock until he finally sinks to the hilt, full balls sleeping against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip to suppress the absolutely sinful sound that threatens to escape your lips.

Simon groans at the feeling of being clutched so tightly by your precious cunt. Your hand comes down to circle your clit with desperate, shaky movements until you’re suddenly cumming around his cock.

“Shit!” Simon practically howls, blunt nails biting into your skin as he holds your twitching body against his through the sudden orgasm you’ve given yourself, “Cummin’ just from gettin’ my cock in you? So sweet, lovie.”

You whimper his name in a little hiccup, tearily looking up at him from where your head thumps back against his shoulder. The pathetic look in your eye is what prompts him to start moving – fat cock sliding out of you before a powerful roll of his hips ends it back deep. He prods your cervix in a way that makes pain mix deliciously with pleasure – an addictive feeling that only Simon could ever give you.

His harsh thrusts jostle your entire body, your tits bouncing in time to the movement. You’re not able to keep quiet, every time he sinks deep, it punches a moan out from your lungs. His heavy, fat balls slap against you, only adding to the lewd sounds of squelching and moaning.

Soap and Kyle continue to stroke their own cocks to the sight of your getting fucked. Leaking cocks squelching quietly in their own grips.

“Shit…” Soap groans through his teeth, “Wish I could wrap my lips around that pretty clit, darlin’.”

You whimper, eyes rolling back at the very thought of having a tongue worshiping your neglected clit. With Simon’s cock stuffing you full, you know it would work the most magnificent orgasms out of you.

As if sensing your greedy thoughts, Simon wraps a rough hand around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, “Felt that little cunt squeeze me when he said that. My cock not enough for you?”

“Y-You are!” you sob, tears filling your eyes from how he starts an even rougher pace, “J-Just wanna cum, Si!”

Your fiance scoffs at your words, harshly knocking your leg off of the chair that you had it propped up in. You cry out at how the angle changes with his hand still wrapped around your throat, forcing you to arch your back to look up at him. His cock grinds incessantly against that gooey little spot that makes your entire body twitch every time he pounds against it.

It’s even more difficult to keep yourself upright without the chair to help, both your knees are shaky and if Simon wasn’t holding you tight against his chest by your throat, you’d certainly be slumping to the floor.

Simon’s hand tightens around your neck and it cuts off the noises that are escaping. Your vision fuzzes up as your orgasm builds and builds.

“Si, Si, Si–” you choke out, drool dripping down your chin, “Please, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Course I am,” Simon snarls, letting his free hand drop to your clit, harshly slapping the little bud before rubbing soothing circles around it.

That sends you over the edge, gushing all over him and down your thighs. You squeal, unable to do anything except hang on for the ride as Simon fucks you through your high until he reaches his own end – spilling his load inside you without a second thought.

You’re left trembling and twitching, gasping and whimpering with tears dripping down your cheeks. Finally, Simon allows you to slump forward, your chest meeting the kitchen table as he pulls his softening cock from your dripping cunt. Sticky, thick strings of his cum connect to his length from your clenching pussy. He soothes his hand down the length of your spine, soothing the little trembles that still wrack your body as you come down.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Soap pants, wiping his cum-covered hand off on his pants.

“You,” Kyle adds, “are one hell of a neighbor.”

property of rowarn. do not modify, translate, or report on other websites. reblogs OK!

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goyaltenthouse · 1 year

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Goyal Tent House Contact At 98119 67323 - Wedding Planner In Greater Noida

#catering services near me #food catering in greater noida #tent house near me #Tent house in greater noida #Tent house supplier in greater noida #wedding event management #event management company #wedding planner in greater noida #event planner in greater noida #wedding catering services in greater noida #event organizer near me #birthday party organizer in greater noida #wedding planners #event planner #catering services in greater noida

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coquettepascal · 18 days

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purpose on earth

summary: joel loves to take, you love to give.

tags: 18+, smut, angst(ish), jackson era!joel, cold!joel, grumpy!joel, innocent!reader, dom!joel, implied age gap (reader doesn't remember pre-outbreak), corruption kink, joel takes your undies, humiliation, oral sex (m!receiving), allusion to thigh riding, a feeling of helpless/hopeless-ness permeates this fic, reader is pretty pathetic, use of "sweet girl", objectification of reader, unrequited obsession, this fic isn't necessarily sexy, just mildly sad.

a/n: i literally wrote this like an hour ago while i was supposed to be outlining my next project, but @hellishjoel told me to listen to my creative demons... so now this is being posted.

(1.1k, just a baby)

Nothing in this world has ever, or will ever, belong to you. Faint memories glaze your mind sometimes, when you lay down to rest. Not your own memories, but things you’ve read in books and seen in abandoned family photo albums. White wedding dresses, cars that drive, Sunday night family dinner. An American lifestyle that was sucked away with the cordyceps, something only they could clear out. The bombs the government used, the ones you can’t remember anymore, they never wiped mother earth clean the way she has done for herself.

She’s infected, and not yours. Nothing outside of Jackson’s walls belongs to your human hands.

You’ve never known ownership. The clothes you wear belonged to people before you, the ground you walk on cannot be sold. Maybe in another life this would feel fulfilling, but something in you wants to know what it is to own, or even fit in. Your skin, flushed and healthy, skin full of life and blood and organs. A heart that thumps in a world of disease, disorder, death. What a weird purity you hold, something you want to ruin.

A person like you isn’t meant to own anything here. It feels like you have to belong, if you wish to take.

He will do it for you.

Joel knows greed, remembers the world before. His hands have taken food, land, lives, anything you can imagine. It isn’t something you realistically think about, more infatuated with how he has the ability to do all these things. Not that you hadn’t committed your own sins, but to defend yourself isn’t wrong, at least that’s what he says. Something in Joel smolders the way only a primal fire can, he is from a world whose memory of a flame will extinguish soon.

He doesn’t help with any of your wants, your need to own or belong. But Joel shows you what it is to take.

You don’t understand the fascination he has with you. The memory of the night he first led you back to his house is blurry, a fleeting moment in comparison to what has happened since. There was conversation of music, of you having a tape you wish you could play.

His hands were slow when they slid your underwear down your legs, you hoped he wasn’t looking. Nothing about you felt sexy or womanly, you felt dwarfed when he was so close. Again, you wished you could belong, so maybe you could hide. There was a stain in the gusset and you remember how he pulled the garment off your ankles when it dangled there.

“Lemme see,” he had demanded, “lemme see what I did t’you.”

Joel had smeared his thumb through the sticky wet mark, huffing in surprise. He knew it was for him, knew there was nothing else that could have made you do that. Humiliated, you had tried to yank back your underwear, but he refused.

“S’mine now,” he laughed, cheeks rosy.

That was the first time Joel took from you.

Now you seek him, the ache for belonging in the world twisting to a yearning for him to take from you. If you could not belong to this world, if you could not fit, at least you could fulfill him. Joel doesn’t like it when you seek him out too often, hates when others notice it. You’re not his, never his, just a moment of gratification for his consuming greed.

Once, you waited in the early morning at the stables for him. Crouched near the barn door, you waited and watched the dewy grass grow. The crunch of his boots, the yawn he let out as he passed by you, it was enough. He said nothing to you, took off on his horse with some other man trailing behind him.

“Joel’s so responsible,” you thought to yourself, “he’ll need me later I bet.”

Of course, he did. You relished in the small victory of him stealing from you again. Purity leaks from you in the form of drool on your chin, when he pulls you off his cock. Joel’s thumbs push the spit back in your mouth and you suck it down willingly. Praise rumbles off his tongue and into your ears, a southern rhythm you find sanctuary in. Pushing his dick back into your mouth is all pleasure to him, but it’s a taste of greed for you.

“Sweet girl, that’s a good mouth f’me, ain’t it?” Joel asks, head tilting back.

He never takes his pants off, but he strips you naked. His eyes arguably take more than his hands ever will. The bob of his Adam's apple hypnotizes your eyes as you garble a response to his question. Scarcely do you make sense around Joel, or even speak. You don’t think you can remember the last time you held a proper conversation with him, he usually just waits for you to come around.

It all starts the same, standing on his porch and waiting until he opens the door.

“Missin’ me?” He asks every time.

Joel doesn’t miss you, he doesn’t need you. He just likes how much you give. But you miss him, as soon as he pushes you out into the cold again you miss him. His greed is your purpose.

And so with your purpose, you push yourself down to the base of him. The waterline of your eyes is welling up fast, distorting your vision of him. You blink up at him like he’ll look down, like you’re more than a mouth. You aren’t, not to him, but you get to admire him like this. The puff of his chest, the swell of his throat, and his hands when they come to rip you off him.

He never pulls your hair, just grasps your face in his worn-down palms and pushes you away before jerking himself onto your naked body.

“S’nice, you’re so nice t’me,” he grumbles.

Under the yellow light in Joel’s living room, you feel useful. You’re doing more than surviving in this world. You have a purpose, even if he seldom needs you. He uses the sleeves of his flannel to wipe away the tears that slide down your cheeks, still mumbling about how sweet you are. Naked, smattered in him, you smile. Glittery eyes meet his and he snorts.

“You were missin’ me, huh?” He teases.

Joel rubs his thumb across your cheek again, the closest thing you’ll get to his lips on you. In his post-orgasmic haze, he almost looks fond.

“He almost likes me,” your mind whispers, your stomach fluttering, “it’s almost like I belong.”

And once you’ve nodded in response to his question, messy mouthed and gazing at him, your purpose, he taps his thigh. Blood rushes to your head as you stand, crawling onto him.

In your obedient mind, you define your efforts for Joel as a purpose, but you think you can taste a hint of belonging each time he spreads your legs.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader angst #tlou #pedro pascal

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cindol · 14 days

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thinks about the thought of fiancé!nanami and fem reader

౨ৎ .ᐟ .ᐣ — blurb hcs(kind of ), fluff, suggestive,

a / n — trying out a new style of gradient so let’s just pretend this post is a test run lol

fiancé!nanami wants everything perfect for his future wife. He doesn’t care how crazy or illogical, this is your wedding he’s planning and a special day for both you and him.

fiancé!nanami doesn’t mind who gets invited to his wedding. Usually he would groan at gojo satoru being invited to things organized by him but when you give him a sympathetic look fluttering your lashes.

“I’m sure satoru’s adult enough now to get invited to a wedding baby, I sent an invitation to suguru and shoko so they’ll keep him in check.”

he sighs then looks at you and the empty letter you were gonna write to satoru. With anybody else he would say no, but you’re his woman, his childhood sweetheart.

“only for you, but I feel like just a e-mail would do instead of us doing a thousand letters to our friends baby.”

“I like the effect kento! Makes me feel old school.”

fiancé!nanami knows what his wife likes and has the florist pick only the best orchid’s and peony’s for the venue.

fiancé!nanami has a hard not peaking at your dress fitting so he stays home but always wants updates.

“kento baby, I can’t get you every detail on my dress fitting now! The tailor’s still trying to get measurements.”

“I know I know darling I just want to check up.” that’s such an excuse but it slips off his tongue naturally.

you hum into the phone tapping your nail till you answer.“tell ya what, I’ll give you a detailed description on what my groom will be expecting to see on the big day.”

“wow me.”

“satin dress, goes all the way down to my legs but hugs my curves just right.”

that description was enough for him to pause in the middle of his own sentence.

fiancé!nanami once he sees the dress at the wedding when you’re coming down the aisle with his grandfather leading you down his stotic strong straight face nearly cracks seeing you all glammed up in that long mermaid wedding dress makes him sweat. Not from nervousness but from the fact he may be getting hot seeing your body stick out the way it did in that satin white dress.

once you both kiss and say the vows you’ve promised to one another immediately wants to rush to the honeymoon and skip reception. Seeing even your backside while you’re talking shoko’s ear off while waving you hand to show her the ring on your finger got him flustered. Immediately he was grabbing your hand before you got the chance to excuse yourself from shoko.

Near a lonely wall he was giving you neck kisses making you giggle and stop him for a moment to talk.“I see somebody wanted more kisses but don’t you wanna wait baby? loads of food and I know haibara is gonna wanna talk your ear off.”

nanami didn’t wanna be rude. This was the day you waited but all he could think on is wanting to rip that dress off of you in a hotel room. Scratching the back of his head and rubbing his neck he tsked, would he wait all the time for the reception to be over or skip to the night with his beloved?

he’d rather skip.

“I mean this so much respect sweetheart, but seeing you this beautiful in your gown makes me just wanna jump ship and go to the honeymoon already.” his eyes scoped you from down to up looking at your bust to how the dress flowered down to your legs.

that already got you biting your lip. Seeing nanami in this flustered state while touching at his hair made you wanna immediately follow after him.

“You think the others will mind or care seeing me disappear off?”

“If you tell satoru he won’t give a damn, just make a slick cocky comment and make some excuse to the others.” Nanami wasnt fond on gojo but he knew how he thinks. is

fiancé!nanami is gentle with you on the honeymoon night. As thirsty as he was to just get to that hotel room with you that he specifically got the hotel to set up with champagne and rose petals he couldn’t care less about them.

Taking each arrival of clothing off of you was what he took great care of. Slowly he lifted your bridal veil showing your pretty face, eyelashes batting at him and lips all pouty. His thumb swiped near you lip making you pout.

“You’ll mess up my lipstick kento!”

“It won’t be here for long darling, I can promise that.”

fiancé!nanami treats your body like a work of art to be appreciated on this honeymoon night.He first started by neck kisses just to get you hot and bothered with more kisses in the middle of your cleavage also till you just explode.

“Just do me already kento!” saying it in a immature way but he knew exactly what you meant.

fiancé!nanami that night nanami kento made you happy a bride.

#since oomfie aqua said I need to write for nanami more #nanami drabbles #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento x reader #kento x y/n #kento x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #nanami kento #jjk nanami

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cringe--is--dead · 1 month

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𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔻𝕠 𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕊𝕚𝕔𝕜

Incl. Umemiya, Hiragi, Tsubakino, Choji, Togame

Umemiya

Having grown up in a group home, Umemiya knows how to be the best care giver ever

That being said: he’s also insanely clingy and affectionate on his worst days

He’s attentive to a T

With Kotoha’s help he’s bringing you homemade soup, full of fresh veggies from his garden

He’s making you tea and keeping water bottles near by whenever you even mention wanting a drink

Sends his four kings out to watch over while he’s with you because he refuses to leave your side until your healthy— doesn’t matter if it’s a cold or the flu

Still cuddles with you, despite you telling him he’ll get sick— he tells you his love and affection will make you feel better

Whenever your fever spikes he’s quickly getting a wet cloth, laying it on your forehead and humming a wordless tune or telling you stories softly

He’s there to wake you up whenever you have fever induced nightmares, and holds your hair back if you rush to the bathroom to be sick

If you even feel the tiniest bit insecure because you feel gross and greasy he shuts that down: by telling you:

“In sickness and in health!” “That’s— those are wedding vows?” “Ha, yeah! But think of them as…pre-engagement, pre-wedding vows now! Hey— your face is all red, did your fever spike again?”

If you’re far enough into your relationship he’ll help you bathe: his hands are gentle as he washes your hair, no wandering touches as he helps you clean your body

He’s so soft you nearly fall asleep in the water, lulled into a serene peace by his soft voice and gentle touches

He combs your hair once it’s dry enough, braiding it to keep it out of your face and wrapping you your freshly washed sheets you have no idea when he had time to clean

Overall; 11/10 to take care of you when you’re sick

Even if he does end up getting sick himself after

Hiragi

You probably got sick after he warned you to bring your coat with you or not to stay up too late let’s be real

Dad sighs and twitching eyes

But he’s buying all the best meds and electrolyte drinks

I personally believe this man knows how to cook so he’s making you homemade soup, congee and other things his mom used to make him when he was sick

Brings a type of lemon “candy” that helps with your throat, knows they work because he keeps them on him in case Kaji needs them

He stays with you, but he gives you space

1. Because he needs to make sure he doesn’t get sick— he has to take care of you firstly, and secondly he cannot let Umemeiya free of him for too long

2. Because he knows you’ll want space occasionally; to sleep, to rest, to regenerate your social battery

While you nap he’s cleaning around; washing and folding clothes, doing dishes, organizing your mail— he’s completely husband material

When you want him near he’ll have you lay your head on his lap, and he’ll run his fingers through your hair and read to you— literally any book you choose he’ll read without hesitation

He’ll be so attentive and supportive when you’re sick, and he makes sure to continue to give you vitamins even after to help you avoid being sick again

But even when you are he’ll be there again

15/10 he’s just so HUSBAND MATERIAL

Tsubakino

LOOK

if there’s one thing anyone knows about me it’s I am a Tsubaki stan first and a human second

that being said

I imagine him taking care of you being sick is, while sweet, also a bit panicky

I imagine he has this weirdly insane immune system so he’s hardly ever gotten sick, and he’s also an only child so this isn’t super familiar territory

but he tries

does so much research he might go a bit overboard

“My darling! I got cough medicine, fever reducers, cooling masks, some cough drops Hiragi suggested! I got some water bottles and Suo-chan suggested different teas— I wasn’t sure which one would be best so I got all six! Nirei-chan said to get electrolytes so I got different flavors of those! And Kotoha-chan made soup! And congee! And I can order more, in fact I have a few different soups on the way!”

he just hates seeing you feel so bad

he’s a ball of nerves around you, always checking in on you and asking what you want, what you need, what you’d like

you can’t even be annoyed he’s so sweet

he helps you bathe, much like Umemiya, he’s sweet and attentive

he brings over his own stuff too; bathbombs, shower steamers, hair masks, face masks

he can’t make the illness disappear but you’ll at least feel clean and good on the outside

he takes his time with your hair and face, and he’s basically your personal masseuse in the bath

you’re never felt so relaxed despite being as sick as a dog

even though you’re sick he’s still quick to press kisses to your cheeks and forehead, face red from fever, embarrassment, and lipstick stains now

paints your nails while you rest with a cold press on your head, tells you about the latest debacle between Umemeiya and Hiragi and Sugishita and Sakura

by a miracle he doesn’t get sick

and he stores all the leftover meds and electrolytes (there’s a lot) between your place and his so he’s prepared next time

overall: 1000000/10

realistically: 10/10 (but always 100000/10 in my eyes)

Choji

oh boy

o h b o y

let it be known you try to hide the fact you’re sick from him for as long as possible

read: you fail

he’s showing up at like 7am, waking you up and charging in

did he bring anything?

of course

he’s brought snacks

not healthy ones

you’re not hungry because you’re nauseous, so he just stores them in your fridge and comes to cuddle you

he’ll wait on your every command don’t get me wrong

want water? he’s grabbing you a glass

need to go to the bathroom? he’s helping you up and walking you there, waiting outside the door and helping you back

bored? he’ll tell you all the thoughts in his head! and there’s a lot!

hungry? he’s grabbing those snacks for you!

he’s attentive and sweet, but he definitely is spoiled by Togame so much he’s not entirely sure how to take care of a sick person

but he’s strong so he’ll just beat your illness for you!

he’ll hold you while you rest, turn your fan on when you say you’re hot, turn it off when you’re cold

he tries to braid your hair while you rest, it’s messy but he tried

he ends up getting sick before you’re even better yourself

now Togame is tasked with coming to your place and taking care of both of you

overall: 7/10

he tries he really does

but he charges in with no instructions and just love

which is great but doesn’t treat the flu

Togame

he probably has taken care of an ill choji (^) so he knows what he’s doing

the patience of a saint holy—

he comes to see you when you’re asleep, and he’s silent as he unpacks stuff from the nearby convention store

you wake up startled at him just chilling, probably drinking a ramune and reading something

he keeps his voice soft as he asks if you’re hungry or thirsty

helps you sit up as he hands you a water bottle, and if your hands are too shaky he’d holding it for you to drink out of

he won’t even let you open your mouth to apologize before he’s giving you that stupidly soft smile and telling you he’s happy to take care of you

he keeps the curtains shut so the light in your room is dim, and he brings in candles with your favorite scent so the lights don’t hurt your eyes and the scent helps you feel calmer

not much of a cook himself when it comes to specific food to help you, but he grabbed take out on the way and heats up the perfect portions whenever you’re hungry

not too much so you leave food on the plate but not too little so you’re still hungry after

the man that he is

can definitely see him massaging your hands, your arms and your shoulders cause you’re tense from feeling ill

keeps a bucket or a bag nearby in case you get sick and can’t make it to the toilet

does a little braid to keep your hair out of your face, jokes about how he learned how to braid his hair so he’d he perfect at it for you

tries to brew you tea, and either burns it or under-steeps it

you both opt for just water for the time being

doesn’t get sick, but definitely sleeps for an entire day after you’re healthy

you both do actually— a long sleep cuddled up together

overall; 13/15 i think i made myself fall more in love with him

#hajime umemiya x reader #toma hiragi x reader #tsubakino tasuku x reader #choji tomiyama x reader #togame jo x reader #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #hiragi toma x reader #tasuku tsubakino x reader #tomiyama choji x reader #jo togame x reader

401 notes · View notes

lovesuhng · 2 months

Text

fake

fake dating, strangers to lovers, fluff w.c: 4.5k

The college exams were really getting to Johnny, but another complicated situation was troubling his mind: his parents' pressure for him to seriously date someone. It was no secret that Johnny was focused on his studies, but he also didn't miss a chance to have fun with friends and even get involved with some people, yet he never started a serious relationship.

One of Johnny's cousins' wedding was approaching and his mother asked him to be there, once again bringing up the fact that he wasn’t dating anyone. In response, Johnny ended up saying he was in a relationship, which was a big lie.

“Why did you tell your parents that?” Jaehyun, Johnny's friend and classmate, asked him while they were in the cafeteria.

“To see if they would stop pressuring me so much, but now I have a week to find a girl to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

“But that’s easy, look at how many women you’ve hooked up with here.”

The fact was that Johnny was well-known and very desired at college. His charm, good humor, and his sculptural body attracted a lot of attention.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to and can’t just take anyone. It’s a wedding!”

So, Jaehyun started suggesting various possible candidates, but Johnny had very convincing excuses. Then Jaehyun looked around the cafeteria and spotted you.

“Why not talk to her?”

Johnny looked in your direction, seeing you laugh at something your friend was saying. You both were in the same major, but you started college after Johnny, making him your senior. You and Johnny had talked a few times, but you were far from being friends. You were known for being a dedicated and very reserved student, not fond of attending the college parties, which made contact with him rare.

“But how am I supposed to ask her? I can’t just go up to her and say ‘do you want to pretend to be my girlfriend for a few days?’”

“That’s not my problem. Think about it, maybe fate will bring her your way in the next few days.”

And it seemed fate was indeed on Johnny’s side. He had gone to talk to the professor of the subject he had been a teaching assistant for the previous semester to resolve some issues. Upon arriving at the office door, he found you talking to the professor, saying you had some questions and needed help to finalize the final project for the subject.

“Unfortunately, I can’t help you because I need to make a short trip to take care of some personal matters.” That’s when the professor noticed someone at the door, directed his gaze to Johnny and asked him to come in. “But it seems you’re in luck. I think you know Johnny. He was my TA last term, and I think he can help you.”

“Really?!” You said, quite excited and hopeful.

“I can help, we just need to figure out some days and times that work, so I can also study for the final exams.”

“Perfect. Are you free after classes tomorrow?”

And so, you arranged to meet in the library the next day for Johnny to help you with the project. He was already waiting for you and it didn’t take long for you to arrive, a bit flustered trying to balance your notebook and notes in your hands, which made Johnny chuckle.

“Sorry for the delay, but the professor wouldn’t stop talking.”

“It’s fine, I just got here.”

After organizing your things on the table and turning on the notebook, you started asking questions and sharing some ideas you were considering for the project. Johnny proved to be very helpful, definitely more than you expected. After some time in the library, you left together heading to the exit, when Johnny offered you a ride since he had a car and saw you were heading to the bus stop. Initially, you tried to refuse but ended up accepting with the condition that you would stop at a coffee shop near your house.

Once there, you placed your orders, which you insisted on paying for, and began talking about various topics, like the similarities of being only children, your tattoos and their meanings, the reasons for choosing that major, and so on. You were discovering more about each other's lives when suddenly Johnny heard someone call his name and recognized his mother’s voice.

“My dear! It’s so good to see you here.”

“You too, mom. What are you doing here?”

“I came to buy some things for your cousin’s wedding and decided to stop for a coffee.” She then looked at you with a very friendly smile. You stood up to greet Johnny’s mother.

“Mom, this is…”

“Don’t tell me she’s your girlfriend?!”

You were about to say you were just a university colleague when Johnny interrupted.

“Yes. My girlfriend.”

Confusion was written all over your face. While being pulled into a hug by Johnny’s mother, you looked at him, seeking an explanation, he just whispered, “I’ll explain later, but please help me.”

“I can’t believe Johnny is finally dating and with such a beautiful woman like you.”

“Ah, thank you…”

“I’m leaving now. It was a pleasure meeting you, dear. And I look forward to seeing you at the wedding.”

“Of course, mom.” Johnny hugged you by the shoulders, startling you a bit. “We’ll definitely be there.”

After saying goodbye to Johnny’s mom with fake smiles, you pulled away from him and demanded an explanation.

“Long story short: I lied to my mom saying I had a girlfriend and she wants me to bring her to my cousin’s wedding. I hadn’t said who it was yet and I was going to talk to you about it before, but then my mom showed up and all this happened. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”

“And you think this will work?”

Johnny held your hand and kept his gaze on your eyes. That gave you butterflies, something you didn’t understand why it was happening.

“They say desperate times call for desperate measures. Will you help me?”

You took a deep breath and said, bringing a smile to the man in front of you, “You helped me, so… we have a wedding to go to.”

Since you had only a few days before the wedding, your meetings became more frequent, both inside and outside the university. Johnny helped you finish the project, which you presented impeccably and you also studied together for exams, each for your respective subjects, keeping each other company, thus forming a friendship between you.

Already on vacation and on the eve of the wedding, some final details were decided: the wedding and the reception would be in a neighboring town, so Johnny asked you to bring comfortable clothes for the trip and you created a story about your relationship in case anyone asked (you studied at the same university, Johnny always saw you in the corridors and fell in love with you, asked you out, and you had been dating for 2 months).

On Saturday morning, the day of the wedding, Johnny was already at your doorstep, waiting by the car and laughed when he saw you walking towards him with curlers in your hair, holding the dress and a small suitcase.

“Why are you like that?” Johnny laughed as he helped you put your things in the car.

“To speed things up, of course. We would be late if I did this at the hotel and I hate being late. And this isn’t the way to greet your ‘girlfriend’ on a saturday morning.”

“You're right. Good morning, my dear.” Johnny said, putting his hands on your waist and then laughing at the face you made. So, you decided to be as affectionate as he was. Standing on tiptoe, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving him very surprised.

“Good morning, honey. Now let’s go, the road is long.”

That little kiss, innocent as it was, significantly affected Johnny, who took a while to process everything and got into the car.

A little over two hours later, you were at the hotel, and since you were returning the same day, Johnny only booked one room for you to get ready for the wedding. You checked in, ate something, and started preparing. You had already showered and were now doing your makeup. Johnny was in the shower but soon came out, complaining that he couldn’t put on the tie.

“I have no idea how to do this, I think I’ll go without it.”

“Calm down, Johnny, I’ll–” You stopped talking when you saw him with wet, messy hair, the first four buttons of his shirt open, giving a glimpse of his chest, and pants perfectly fitted to his body. Even like that, you thought Johnny was the most attractive man in the world and didn’t want to imagine how he would look when fully ready. You approached him, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blushing face, started buttoning his shirt and tied his tie perfectly. Unlike you, who was very “focused,” Johnny looked at every detail of your face, how your eyelashes were long, how your eyes were mesmerizing, how your lips seemed so soft that he wanted to kiss you right there, but he was snapped out of his trance when you patted his shoulder.

“How do you know how to tie ties?”

“I had to wear one for an event and watched some tutorials online.” You said, smiling. “I’ll add the final touches to my makeup and put on the dress.”

It didn’t take long for Johnny to get ready, so he waited for you until he heard, “Johnny, can you help me?” from the bathroom. He entered the room, seeing you struggling to zip up the dress, and quickly positioned himself behind you. This was your moment to hold your breath at his proximity as he slowly zipped up the dress. You felt your arm hair stand up when his breath touched your neck and when his hands touched your waist. You looked at each other in the mirror, and a smile appeared on your lips.

“So, how do I look?”

Johnny, even nervous, tried to talk to you more casually. “You’re so beautiful we might end up going from a fake relationship to a fake marriage.” He laughed at what he said, knowing he was trying to give you confidence. Johnny turned you to face him and said in a more serious tone, giving you goosebumps for the second time that day, “But seriously, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

Arriving at the wedding venue, Johnny extended his hand to help you out of the car. You held his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, after all, you had to appear as a couple from the moment you stepped into the wedding. You started to get nervous about it, but when you looked into Johnny’s eyes, you felt calmer. As the wedding was about to start, you only waved to Johnny’s parents, who were radiant with the fact that their son was “dating.” The wedding proceeded wonderfully. Mark, Johnny’s cousin, and his bride were happy, and from a distance, it was clear they truly loved each other. His speech made most people cry, including you, which Johnny noticed. In an unthinkable act, he wiped your tears and held your hand, caressing it afterward. You were startled for a second but then gave a subtle smile.

After the ceremony, there was the reception, where you had to really act like a couple. Johnny’s parents greeted you right away. His mother kept talking about how beautiful you were as a couple, made for each other, while his father said he was delighted to see that you made Johnny very happy. A few minutes later, your “mother-in-law” took you to meet Johnny’s aunts, leaving him alone with his father.

“I’m so happy for you, son. It’s clear how happy this girl makes you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Just by looking at you, it’s obvious you’re head over heels for her.”

Johnny didn’t respond to his father, unsure of what to say. He just looked at where you were, cheerfully chatting with his aunts, fitting in like family. Your eyes crinkled as you smiled, your contagious laugh making him smile unconsciously. You noticed his gaze, smiled genuinely, as if to say everything was fine, and it was then Johnny realized he was actually falling for his fake girlfriend.

The party continued. You had already had a lot of fun with Johnny's aunts, talked to the newlyweds and even danced a bit. Now you were sitting next to Johnny, just waiting for the right time to head back to the hotel, after all, the weather was turning and you would need to hit the road before it started raining. That’s when the bride announced that it was time for the much-anticipated bouquet toss. You weren’t planning to join the others, but your “mother-in-law” pulled you in, you gave Johnny a look pleading for help, but he just gave you a "can't do anything" expression.

There you were, in the middle of some women, trying to give polite smiles but clearly not wanting to be in that situation. Then, you heard the bride’s voice saying that the next one to catch the bouquet would have to get married and soon started the countdown.

And by the irony of fate, the bouquet came your way and you caught it before it hit your face. Your wide-eyed expression made Johnny laugh as he rushed towards you. He was about to speak when his very excited mother arrived, saying:

“I knew that bouquet was yours! Now I want a photo of you two.”

You approached Johnny and whispered for only him to hear: “You two are the same, love taking photos of everything!” In the days you spent more time together, you discovered that photography was one of Johnny’s passions and that he was incredible at it.

When you saw Johnny’s mother positioning the phone for a picture of the two of you, you felt Johnny’s hand on your waist, pulling you closer and you felt a kind of warmth there. You posed for the photo, but you didn’t look like a couple. That’s when Johnny’s mother, quite cleverly, said, “Son, kiss your girlfriend!”

Johnny’s eyes widened. Now what? He couldn’t make you do anything like that. He couldn’t keep up this act. He was about to tell his mother the whole truth when he felt your hand on the back of his neck. There was a brief exchange of looks and you said, “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t have time to respond as your lips on his prevented him from doing so. It would be cliché to say that “it seemed like everything around had disappeared and only you two were there,” but that’s what was really happening. The gentle touch you gave to the back of Johnny’s neck with the hand not holding the bouquet was reciprocated by the way he held your waist. Johnny knew he was in trouble but didn’t want to think about it at that moment. For him, it was like a dream, but he was “awakened” when you pulled away, only to see the man in front of you with his eyes closed. You couldn’t help but smile when he opened his eyes and you ended up wiping the gloss that had stayed on his lips.

After a while, you decided to return to the hotel and, just as you arrived, a heavy rain started.

“It’s like we predicted this would happen,” said Johnny. He asked you to go to the room to start organizing your things while he settled a few things at the reception. The time you spent alone in the room was enough for you to think about everything that had happened, how much you loved being near Johnny, how welcomed you felt by his family, how nervous you got when you had to pretend to be his girlfriend and how much you loved that kiss. But, did he feel anything for you? Did he feel something with that kiss?

Some time later, Johnny returned to the room, and he didn’t look very happy. “The rain is getting worse and some trees have fallen on the road, so we’ll have to spend the night here.”

“Oh, that’s fine then.”

“You don’t mind us sharing the room?”

“Of course not, John, it’s okay. I’ll sleep on that little sofa and you can take the bed,” you said, pointing to the small sofa in the corner of the room.

“Are you crazy? I’ll sleep on the sofa and YOU can have the bed.”

“I think you’re the crazy one. Look at your size and the size of the sofa.” You were right. The sofa was too small for him, so you thought of a simple solution that made you nervous. “If you don’t mind, we can share the bed.” Johnny looked at you as if to say, “Are you sure about this?” You understood his expression completely and said, “It’s fine. We’ll put some pillows in the middle and it’ll be perfect. The bed is huge.”

After showering, Johnny was arranging the bed while you were combing your hair.

“Did you enjoy the wedding?”

“What? So much! Seriously, Johnny, your family is so lively and funny. I talked for ages with your mom and aunts.”

“I noticed. You even danced with them. You spent more time with them than with your boyfriend.”

“What’s up with that? You should have pulled me to dance.”

“Oh really?”

Then, Johnny picked up his phone and selected a song, specifically “More Than Words” by Extreme and, in a very exaggerated manner, extended his hand to invite you to dance with him in the middle of the hotel room. You couldn’t help but smile, which he noticed, and took his hand, accepting the invitation. The dance continued, Johnny made some exaggerated moves, leading you along with him. With each twirl he made you do, your laughter increased. It was amazing how, even in such a short time, you felt light and happy around Johnny, as he didn’t have to make any effort to make you smile, he just was… himself. The “exaggerated dance” went on for a few more minutes until Johnny lifted you and spun around, but ended up tripping and falling onto the bed, taking you with him. Despite the scare, you both laughed at the situation. But the smiles faded as you realized how close your faces were. You had been this close before, after all, you had kissed earlier, but it was all part of a “show”, now you were alone. Your mouths were almost meeting when Johnny’s phone rang, bringing you back to reality for the second time that day. You got off Johnny and went straight to the bathroom to catch your breath. Meanwhile, Johnny answered the call, discovering it was his mother, just asking if everything was alright.

When you left the bathroom, Johnny was already lying on his side of the bed, ready to sleep, and you did the same, wishing him a good night.

Although Johnny’s mind was racing because of everything that had happened the day before and because of the new feelings in his heart, he had a great night’s sleep, except he felt some weight on him. Because of the sun rays entering through the curtain gaps, he slowly opened his eyes and realized that the “weight” was your leg over his, your head using his arm as a pillow and your arms hugging him like he was a giant teddy bear. Johnny noticed that the pillow barrier you had made to divide the bed had fallen and now you were in that situation. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw your squished face, sleeping so peacefully and comfortably in his arms. As much as he wanted to stay there, he had to get out of bed. He tried to do it in a way that wouldn’t wake you, but it didn’t work, and your eyes started to open.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. Is this pillow comfortable?”

“Good morning, sort of, it’s just a bit hard…” The next second, you realized you were clinging to him and jumped out of bed. “OH MY GOD, JOHNNY, I’M SORRY! You must have slept all crooked because of me. How embarrassing!” You said while running your hands over your face, while Johnny, still in bed, just laughed at your “panic.”

As the days went by, you exchanged messages with trivial updates about what was happening in your lives. With each message you received, you could feel your heart beat faster just thinking it was from Johnny. All your friends knew when you were talking to him because you always had a silly smile on your face, like a lovesick teenager. Missing him so much, you decided to ask him out and he accepted right away.

You arrived in front of the chosen place: a homemade food restaurant where you had once worked and were still friends with Joe, the elderly owner. A few minutes later, Johnny arrived and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you, especially because of the sunflower-patterned dress you were wearing. He didn’t miss the chance to joke, “Is that dress in my honor?” knowing that he had a sunflower tattooed on his forearm.

Upon entering the restaurant, you took Johnny’s hand to introduce him to the owner.

“Mr. Joe, it’s been so long!”

“Hi, my dear, I’ve missed you.” With a friendly smile, he turned his attention to Johnny. “Did you come to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

Lately, you two were so often mistaken for a couple that Johnny didn’t mind what was said but couldn’t help but feel sad when you stated that you were just friends.

“I see, well, enjoy the evening and maybe things will change tonight.” The elderly man shook Johnny’s hand, winking at him. Was it that obvious that he was in love with you?

You took the lead, followed by Johnny, who found it strange that you were heading somewhere other than where the customers were eating. He was about to ask where you were going when he was surprised as you reached the restaurant’s terrace. It was a rarely used place but very well-decorated and had an incredible view at night.

“Wow, this place is amazing!”

“I think so too. It was one of my favorite spots. I used to stay here during my breaks and sometimes came here to study or just think about life. The owner doesn’t use it much, but I asked a friend who still works here to set it up, just in case I brought someone here.

“And do you often bring people here?”

“To be honest, you’re the first person I’ve brought here.” Johnny gave a restrained smile, feeling special for some reason.

After placing your orders, you talked about various things. It was incredible how you always had so much to talk about. Then, a cold breeze passed, making you shiver and complain about wearing a dress and forgetting your jacket. Within seconds, Johnny promptly got up, took off his jacket and put it on your shoulders, making you momentarily forget how to breathe due to his sudden closeness.

When he returned to his seat, Johnny found it odd that you started laughing for apparently no reason.

“Please don’t get me wrong, I just think it’s amazing how you can sometimes be so sweet despite being so...” You gestured to indicate his height.

“Tall? Handsome? Hot? No need to be at a loss for words to describe me. They say that’s my charm: being sweet to balance out the fact that I’m extremely attractive” Johnny said in a charming tone and you decided to play along.

“For sure, and very modest too.”

After dinner and more conversation, you suggested to Johnny that you go to an ice cream shop near your place.

“What? But weren’t you cold?”

“No cold can make me refuse a good ice cream.”

And that’s how you ended up on your street, heading to your building with your ice creams, you looking like a happy child finally eating your favorite dessert and Johnny laughing at everything you said.

“Well, I guess this is where we say goodbye,” you said, but deep down you didn’t want the night to end.

“The night was amazing. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

“Oh! Before I forget.” You said while taking off the jacket and handing it back to Johnny. “I swear I’ll bring mine next time.”

“So, there will be a next time?” Johnny said provocatively while putting on his jacket. You pretended to be thoughtful for a second and replied, “Maybe… Wait a second.”

You stepped closer to Johnny to adjust his jacket collar, bringing you just inches apart. Your eyes locked, but this time in a more intense way. You could admire Johnny’s beautiful honey-colored eyes while he examined every detail of your face, which looked even more beautiful in the moonlight. You made a move to pull away, but Johnny placed his hands on your waist, preventing you from leaving. Your gaze dropped to his mouth as he said, “You’ve already kissed me once, what are you waiting for to do it again?”

“Now it’s your turn to take the initiative. Kiss me, John.”

Closing the minimal gap between you, Johnny kissed you. Unlike the first time, you felt the intensity of this kiss, and when Johnny’s tongue touched yours, you could swear you would explode with happiness, so much so that it made you smile in the middle of the kiss, causing Johnny to pull away, laughing. “Are you that happy to kiss me?”

“Of course. Because now we’re really kissing.” You kissed Johnny again, unable to believe he felt something for you too. “Hm, does this mean we’re really dating now?”

“Hmm, let’s see.” Johnny made a mock thoughtful face and listed what had already happened between you two. “I’ve introduced you to my family, we went to a wedding as a couple, we slept together… so I guess we are dating.”

“Good.” You threw yourself into Johnny’s arms, standing on tiptoe. “I won’t have to pretend anymore for your family because next week I’m going to play golf with your mom and your aunts.” You said, giving him a peck.

“YOU WHAT?”

“That’s right, I’m going to spend some quality time with my mother-in-law and show her that I’m the best girlfriend her son could have.”

Johnny’s laughter made you smile even more, he couldn’t believe how quickly you had won over his mother. He hugged you tighter, lifting you off the ground.

“Get inside before I end up kissing you all night, girlfriend.”

“There’s nothing stopping you from doing that, boyfriend.”

You both smiled and kissed once more, savoring the moment that was more real than ever.

200 notes · View notes

miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 5 months

Text

never penelope, always calypso

pairing: leon x reader

cw: infidelity?, p in v, alcohol usage, oral sex, angst, smut, possible misuse of words, questionable metaphors, allusions to the odyssey (i'm cringe), pseudo-poetic nonsense

summary: leon is married to ashley and they have an open relationship. you become fwbs when he visits dc. accidental feelings happen

a/n: the title is a reference to the odyssey (no discourse/analyses allowed on this post!!)

wc: 5.5k

taglist: @rigorwhoring @porcelainseashore @mrswint3rs @dilfprayers @pawrincss

link to join taglist in bio! link to commissions & ko-fi in bio! link to ao3 in bio!

Winter 2012

You first meet Leon at a bar near your apartment. Outside, it's freezing, yet you order your drink on the rocks. Drunkenness makes your cheeks match your ears, rosy and slightly numb to the cold.

It’s been a rough day for you and the way Leon’s head hangs as he looks blankly into his glass - half-empty - lets you know that he’s in the same boat. He’s got blonde-ish hair, icy blue eyes, and a hint of a five o’clock shadow. His voice, low and tired, holds a sympathetic chagrin, subtle and genuine. He must feel your eyes on him because he picks himself up as best he can and smiles at you.

He’s not drunk. Neither are you, only tipsy.

“Hi,” you say because you’re not good with pickup lines.

“Hey. How’s it goin’?”

“It’s goin’,” you say because it’s the best way you can tell the truth without being too much of a downer.

“Not great, huh?”

“A complete shitshow if I’m being honest.”

“I can relate.” He thrusts his right hand out and you take it. His palm is calloused with a life much rougher than you’ll ever know. “I’m Leon.”

You tell him your name and he releases your hand from his grasp.

You recount your disastrous day and he laughs at all the right times and keeps his smile sympathetic for the rest of your story. He doesn’t say much about himself, and the next morning you worry you were venting, but you come to find over the years that he prefers to listen rather than to talk. He has unparalleled patience. He’s not like other guys. You’re just like other girls.

The one time he speaks over you is to insist to the bartender that he is paying for your drinks too when he asks to close his tab.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He grabs his wallet from his back pocket and you notice on his left hand, a wedding band. It was all just friendly conversation, you realize. Your smile drops and you don’t have time to pick it back up before he turns to you.

“What’s up?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You give him a fake smile.

“You sure?” He probes you with minimal force. His questions never make you feel like you’re being interrogated, strapped to a metal chair despite the fact that a gun sits on his hip; not like an interview either with bright lights an audience; more like a surgery, penetrating, tearing and mending your organs while you’re numbed by alcoholic anesthetic.

“Mhm,” You respond. You are already falling into a dreamless sleep, breathing, but comatose.

“Okay. Do you live close? We could split a cab.” He places his hand on the small of your back and whispers while you walk to the exit, “Unless you want to come back with me to my hotel.”

You look at him, almost angry for her – the woman you don’t know – and yet, still wanting. He removes his hand quickly. “Whoa. I’m sorry. I clearly misunderstood the situation. I thought we were having a flirtatious conversation and that it was heading that direction. I apologize for overstepping your boundaries.”

“No, I was flirting, but…” You point to his left hand. “You’re married.” There is a part of you that is already willing. You’re his puppet, his ragdoll, willing.

“Oh, yeah,” Leon says with a smile, thinking of her. He holds up his hand, proudly displaying his wedding band. “I am married, but we have an open relationship.” He sounds so honest you’re tempted to believe him. But, there is still a sliver of your consciousness left.

“Prove it. I don’t want to be involved with a cheater.”

“Prove it? Alright. Would you like me to text her and ask if I can invite you back to my hotel room?”

“Sure.”

You don’t think he’ll do it, but he does. Her name in his phone has a heart next to it. You notice it when he shows you her response: Have a nice time :).

He calls her ‘baby’.

He calls you a lot of things during the act, but mostly your name once it’s over.

He calls you ‘gorgeous’ as in, “You look fucking gorgeous like that” When he looks into your eyes from above you. You’re on your knees with his cock down your throat while his hand holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail. You look gorgeous if gorgeous means messy - the mascara that was already smudged when you entered the bar mixes with tears and drips down your face. You look like a canvas drenched with paint water. Filthy and accidental. And in an abstract way, something that could be conceived as beautiful in the eyes of a downright horny beholder.

Leon holds your wrists above your head when he fucks you. His grip is firm just like yours is around his cock, though it’s not your intention. In fact, you want more of him, all of him.

He calls you ‘darlin’ as in,“Darlin’, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. I’m not gonna last like this.” When you’re on all fours and he’s feeding himself to you from behind. One of his hands guides his cock to your entrance while the other holds your hip – that one continues to steady you while he’s fucking you at a merciless pace. With the other, he runs his fingers through his hair – you can see him in the mirror, sweat beading on his forehead.

He calls you ‘babe’ as in, “C’mere, babe.” When he beckons you towards him, lying in bed with his head propped up enough to see you. “Want you to sit on my face”. When you comply and sit on his face, your thighs drown out his words but the noises he makes reverberate through your entire body. Much to Leon’s dismay, it’s the last orgasm you can handle that night. (You have to walk home tomorrow, right?)

There is a distinct difference between babe and baby. The difference being that he calls you one and his wife the other.

That first night, you go for three rounds, only stopping because Leon ran out of condoms and neither of you feel like going to the pharmacy to buy more. At least, not until the next day.

The next morning when his alarm rings, you grab his phone from the bedside table and hand it to him. You catch a glimpse of his lockscreen. It’s him with a woman. “Is that her?”

“My wife? Yeah.” He hands you the phone and lets you see her. She’s beautiful. More so than you. You understand why she lets him do this. And why he shows her off with no hesitation and a prideful grin. You’d brag about her too.

You imagine their first date, their wedding, the sex they have in their home that they share, and every other thing while Leon makes a trip to the drugstore across the street.

“Sorry I took so long,” he says when he climbs back into bed, “there was a long line at the checkout.”

It’s okay, you think, you gave me time to decide that it’s better if I leave now.

And yet, the second he lies down next to you, your decision changes. The prospect of lazy morning sex with Leon is too beautiful to resist. Even in retrospect, if it were purely about the sex, you wouldn’t regret any of it, it was even better than you imagined it would be.

When he takes the blue box from the plastic shopping bag and jiggles it in front of you, playfully asking the question, you nod. None of this requires words.

You sit up in bed, closing the gap between you and your objective, but he stops you. “Don’t get up. I’ll come there.”

He’s quiet despite the room being empty of sleeping children and nosy parents. The hustle and bustle of the city on Saturday morning covers up any sound. His wife knows anyway and she’s 1000 miles away. It’s for the sake of your ears, still acclimating to the ceaseless knocking at your eardrums that comes with being alive. He moves slowly, spreads your legs for you, removes your panties - the boring beige pair you wore to work the day before. He runs his hand over your folds like he’s petting a stray animal, getting you to ease up and let him in. Two fingers mold you to his liking. He fits you for himself despite being taken. He feeds your desire and sets you free when he’s finished. (You’ve finished too, so it’s not cruel, is it?).

He steps into the shower alone.

If getting some more material for your spank bank was your goal, then you accomplished it. Not just the sex but the sight of him with a towel around his waist, his toned body on display. It’s the first time you’ve seen it in the daylight. He only removed his pants when he fucked you from behind. And the night before, you only got a glimpse of his beauty in the dim of the lamp-lit room.

The ounce of self-restraint that remains in your being, holds you back from ripping the towel away from him and kneeling before him, begging him to use your mouth.

There is a piece of you that regrets not taking the opportunity while you had it. You would have another memory of him to fill the Leon-shaped hole inside you. Better yet, he could’ve called you pathetic and told you to leave, and ruined it all before your infatuation could turn into something worse. But, he wouldn’t do that. And that’s why you like him.

Summer 2012

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. Well, honestly, it wasn’t supposed to be anything at all. You had each other’s phone numbers but no plans were made and the goodbye hug didn’t feel like a ‘see you later’, more like a ‘have a nice life’.

But a couple months after your first meeting, he texts you. “I’m in town. Are you busy tonight?”

You happen to be very free and though you denied it at the time, very infatuated with Leon. In your mind, it’s simply the fact that he’s the best sex you’ve ever had and none of it has to do with the fact that during the second night you spend together you’re mere centimeters away from love-making when he bites your lip, tugging lightly before he flips you over to fuck you harder. You know he knows, it’s too obvious for him not to know, that’s why he refuses to look into your eyes, opting to push your face - which he reminds you is gorgeous - into the mattress. Your mascara still runs while you wonder if he’s still thinking about you when your face no longer serves to remind him of the woman whose cunt he uses.

But that happens later. You meet at the same bar because Leon is oddly unfamiliar with the area despite having lived here years ago. Maybe he wanted to forget. That’s a question you never bother to ask.

“I was constantly working. I went out with Ashley on the weekends when she wasn’t busy, but she always picked the restaurant. So, you’ll have to be my tour guide,” he says.

You amble around downtown because you’re not decisive like Ashley. You didn’t prepare anything besides the matching set of lace under your clothes. In June, the sun stays up late, and though they say that certain crimes of the flesh are only committed at night, for the two of you daylight can be far more dangerous.

Simply fucking in his hotel room one night was well within the boundaries of whatever “this” is; however, kissing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial when the sun begins to set makes you feel like a teenager, being romanced for the first time and risking your overbearing parents finding out your dirty little secret. But, none of this is secret. Leon’s wife knows, passersby know, the statue of the 16th president of the goddamn USA who sits behind you knows.

But what truly feels wrong is how chaste it is, how his hands cup your cheeks like a chalice. In a crowded bar, you drink gin and tonics for the Eucharist. Tomorrow, you deal with the unholy hangover.

Still, you’re not sure if this is romance or friendship until you’re walking side by side and your pinkies inch their way closer until they brush against each other. You interlock them playfully for a second, but Leon pulls away rather than grabbing your hand fully. The one time he does take your hand, it’s to guide you through a crowd. He does not interlock fingers with you. He does not kiss your knuckles before he lets go.

Later you end up at your favorite bar because you are his amateur tour guide.

“If this is your favorite, then why weren’t you here the night we met?”

“Would you have preferred I were?”

“No. I’m just curious.”

“The other bar is closer to home. Quieter, too.”

You’re practically yelling at this point over the band that’s playing. It takes two drinks for you to stand up and dance. It’s not some sort of high school prom slow dance. It’s stupid and drunken, but Leon spins you around and his hands are on your body - the less intimate parts - for most of the duration. He doesn’t have to flirt with sensual touches because he doesn’t have to lure you into bed. You are already planning to accompany to his hotel room.

Usually, he is in town for a week at most, and busy for the majority of the time. You see him for a night or two each visit. However, one night after the usual routine of going to the same bar, drinking old fashioneds and Leon picking up the tab, he takes you to the apartment that he’s renting for the next 3 months.

“Three months?” you ask.

“Thought you’d be happy,” he says. “After you admitted that I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

“Cocky much?”

“Wanna find out?” He raises an eyebrow, daring you to take him up on his offer. He’s still unpacking in the bedroom, but you don’t find that out until later because you don’t make it that far into the apartment. You end up fucking on the couch. And then on the living room floor.

What you have is not romance but it’s dangerously close. You realize this when you accidentally take one of his t-shirts home and you wear it to bed again that night before washing it. Because it smells like him and you miss him. That’s not something you ever plan to admit to Leon, and because you don’t say it aloud, it’s not real. It’s only real when he says, “you should just keep a toothbrush here.”

So nonchalant that it catches you off guard. “What am I, your girlfriend?”

“Sorry for being logistical.” He huffs, though you can’t tell if he’s really mad or not.

On his next run to the pharmacy to buy condoms, he gets you the toothbrush.

It’s summertime and Leon has a balcony that overlooks the Washington Monument, so naturally, you eat your dinners outside. Leon cuts back on his drinking, so you often make lemonade instead – from scratch, like your mother used to.

Over dinner you ask him, “Why don’t you just move to D.C. if you spend so much time here?”

“I lived here for years – so did Ashley – and we both hated it. But her dad has a house in Vermont, and we spent our first anniversary there, and we realized we wanted to spend as much of our lives as we can there.” When he speaks, he doesn’t meet your eyes. He’s looking for the memory, reliving it with a smile on his face. You can feel the tranquility.

“Makes sense. If I had a father with a second home in Vermont, I would probably move there too.” Plus, I’m not tied to anything here. Except maybe you, Leon.

“It’s gorgeous in the summer. It sucks that I have to spend it here.”

“Wow,” you say, jokingly, “So, being around me really sucks that much?”

“No, you’re the only part of it that I like.”

You’re left speechless, flustered by his words, and you both know that he shouldn’t have said that despite the fact that it’s the truth.

“Anyway,” he transitions, poking at his salad, pretending to be incredibly interested in the lettuce in an effort to avoid your face. “This lemonade is great.”

“It’s my mother’s recipe. A little extra sugar.”

You take away the plates – his enthusiasm about his salad has faded. He stays on the balcony for a moment because he knows you want to do the dishes – “It’s kind of therapeutic,” you said to him. “Clean plates make you feel like your life is together”.

Regardless, when he comes in, he says, “You know you don’t have to do that.” because that’s in his nature. Other people make messes and he cleans them up.

“I know,” you say, and he doesn’t protest.

You have sex because it’s either that or watch TV. It’s rough and impersonal, and over relatively quickly.

And then, it’s five o’clock somewhere, and somewhere is right where you are, so you pull out a bottle and toast to something stupid like the sex you just had or the TV show you’ll watch until you fall asleep.

Leon doesn’t drink but when he does (which is only when he’s with you. Ashley doesn’t let him indulge like that because she’s more sensible than you are) your conversations venture into topics that you would typically shy away from. You find yourself talking to Leon about his sex life outside of you.

“Do you guys fuck, like, immediately, when you get in the door?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Depends on how long I’ve been gone and how gross I am.”

“Do you think about it a lot? When you’re not with her?”

“Of course I do.” The question sticks in your mind: when we’re having sex too? “But we have phone sex,” he says, oddly prideful.

“That’s good. I’ve never been very good at phone sex.”

“If you’re horny enough it doesn’t matter.”

And that’s probably true. You have sex again shortly thereafter and you wonder if he’s thinking about her. You notice that he does not say your name when he cums.

February 2013

The next year you see him on Valentine’s Day. “Shouldn’t you be spending this with your wife?” you ask.

“I would be if I were at home.”

“You could go home or at least, call her.”

“I could call her, and I did, earlier today. But, it’s just a day. It’s not like it’s our anniversary or one of our birthdays.”

It’s just a day, so I’m spending it with you. It’s just a day, you’re just a girl.

“When’s your anniversary?”

“March 16th,” he says without missing a beat. Because he remembers things. As do you. For better or for worse.

“Are you going to go home for that?”

“No, she’s coming to visit.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” You probably don’t sound very convincing but you’re already making new plans for that week mentally – not that you had any explicit plans with him.

“You could meet her,” he offers, and you think he must be joking but it’s not that funny so you don’t laugh. He doesn’t laugh either because it isn’t a joke.

“Wait what?” you say. “Don’t you see how that’d be a little weird?”

“She knows you exist.”

“Yeah, but-”

“-And,” he leans in to whisper into your ear because you’re in a relatively fancy restaurant where you probably shouldn’t be speaking too loudly about such topics, “I don’t know if you’re into women, but I think she’d be into you.”

It’s a blessing that your dress is black because you choke on red wine and it dribbles down your chest and onto your clothes before you can catch it.

“Sorry. I’m now realizing that sexuality is a sensitive topic and maybe I shouldn’t have broached the subject like that.”

“It’s not about my sexuality. It’s about the fact that you just asked me if I wanted to sleep with your wife.”

“Well, I was hoping to be there too in that hypothetical.”

“It’s your anniversary. I shouldn’t be there. You two should get some alone time.”

“You’re probably right about that.”

He asks you to help him pick out an anniversary gift for his wife. You study pictures of her to see what style of jewelry she wears. Apparently you’re good at buying gifts because you see a new picture of her as his lock screen in which she’s wearing the necklace you picked out.

It’s silver not gold, so it’s not the necklace you care about but the jewelry behind the glass that you gazed at while Leon talked to the cashier.

But before the necklace, before the picture, before Leon’s anniversary, you leave the restaurant together the same way you arrived except you’re covered in red wine. You complain about the way your heels leave blisters so he carries you to the front door - bridal style, ironically, but you’re the only one thinking about it. It’s just a name that comes from an old tradition. It’s like how Valentine’s Day is just a day. He gets down on one knee and because you’ve already imagined him in this position, seeing it play out in front of you startles you, but he’s just unbuckling your shoes. He sees the look on your face - you try to play it off - and he laughs because he knows what you’re thinking, but then again, he doesn’t know anything at all. To him, it’s a silly misunderstanding. To you, it’s a cruel joke you’ve played on yourself.

In his bedroom, where you spend most of your time together, he unzips your dress like he’s trying to save the wrapping paper on a gift.

“It has wine all over it, and I got it on sale,” you say. “You don’t have to be so… gentle about it.”

“Would you prefer I rip it off of you?”

But it’s already slipping past your knees, dropping to the floor, revealing your bra and panties, revealing the secret - that you made an effort, that he is opening a gift, and the gift is a woman in lingerie. His face says enough, the way he looks you up and down, with arousal coursing through his veins but a certain fondness and admiration in his eyes.

You distract him by unbuttoning his dress shirt - slowly because you’re pretty sure this is the one he likes. There’s no tie to undo, no tie to pull him into bed by. He doesn’t like things around his neck. Once, he tried to wear one and couldn’t tie it himself, and you had to help. He only kept it on for a second because he felt like it was suffocating him.

You’re stuck in a mutual trance until you hear the neighbors fucking - not making love, fucking. You throw your head back laughing and Leon drags his hands down his face in faux-exasperation, laughter peeking through his fingers.

“Way to kill the mood,” he sighs.

“Should I go get the broom,” you ask, intending to bang on the wall between apartments.

“I think it’d be a little hypocritical.” Considering how much sex we have. Considering the fact that we’re about to have sex.

“Okay, but we don’t sound like that.”

He shrugs with a stupid grin.

“Oh God, do we sound like that?!”

“I hope not.”

“Leon,” you draw out his name, not quite whining, not quite begging. Not yet.

“Here,” he says, and sticks a CD in his stereo, something he rarely uses. He prefers the quiet. There’s too much noise these days, he once told you.

"You sound like an old man."

"I feel like an old man."

When he stands in front of you in only a white undershirt and a pair of slacks, his belt lost somewhere along the way, while you’re freezing to death in black lace lingerie because he keeps his apartment at 70 degrees maximum, you let go of all inhibitions, and let your surprise be a pleasant one when you realize what album is playing. Grace. As if you have any left.

“I love Jeff Buckley,” you say.

“Everyone loves Jeff Buckley.”

“Not like me.”

The soft music doesn’t fully cover the sounds of your noisy neighbors but the sentiment does. All you can think about is Leon when he’s atop you. You make out like teenagers, savoring it in a way that makes it feel like there’s no expectation that the two of you will have sex.

But slowly, it becomes more than that. His hands cup your breasts, his tongue flicks your nipple, his hands spreading your thighs, his fingers brushing over the fabric. And then the CD stops. It’s been 52 minutes. It’s like a parent knocking at the door, interrupting the magical moment. When Leon stands up to choose another CD, he sheds his shirt too.

Fade Into You plays as he walks back to you and you want to ask ‘How did you know?’, but you opt for taking off his pants instead. You lie face to face atop the covers with the lights only dimmed while he thrusts slowly in and out of you. You worry you’ll start singing along because you know all the words to this album. But Leon’s mouth rarely leaves yours - except when his face is between your thighs.

It’s slow, intimate, undeniably romantic. Only urgent when you’re both nearing the edge and he picks up the pace. You cum together and wade through the aftershocks with heavy breaths. So Tonight That I Might See fades out and covered in sweat, you bask in the shared euphoria that tries to fill the melancholy air. You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

July 2013

Once, after a particularly terrible mission, you meet Leon at his hotel room and he fucks you so hard he has to keep his hand over your mouth for the duration to avoid a noise complaint. A second noise complaint.

Another time, he fucks you so hard the condom breaks. You’re on birth control but he has a wife, a wife that’s not you, so he offers to buy you the morning after pill, and since there’s no logical reason not to take it, you agree. Before you pop the pill in your mouth, you ask him, (mal)apropos of the situation, “Do you think you’ll have kids?”

You let him answer while you wash it down with a gulp of water.

“We’ve been trying actually.” You see the way he smiles and it makes you choke on the water. You wouldn’t have been surprised by a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, but you realize what his statement means: he would never buy her this pill. He wants to have a baby, but not your baby. He doesn’t love you like that. He doesn’t love you at all.

August 2013

You realize you love him right after he leaves. The best and worst part is that you do not see him until 2015. Almost 2 years later. You don’t hear anything from him or about him and sometimes you assume he was KIA, more optimistically, MIA. (Really, he’s just drunk and busy most of the time.)

If Leon died would his wife send you an invitation to the funeral? Who are you - the mistress, a friend of the family, a long-lost somebody?

Summer 2015

When he calls you in July, you half-assume that his voice won’t be the one on the other side. It’ll be someone else who recovers his phone from the ashes of whatever the fuck he’s fighting. You’ve started to forget what he sounds like and it terrifies you.

“I’m gonna take some time off,” he tells you.

“You deserve it since you’re always working so hard.” You understand what ‘time off’ means. It means time away from you too. It means he goes back to where he belongs – in bed, beside his wife.

“I never thought I’d get a vacation – I tried, but it got interrupted. Bio-terrorists don’t care about vacation time as it turns out.”

“How long is your time off going to be?”

“I’m not sure yet. We don’t technically have paternity leave, but I think the DSO feels-”

“Paternity leave?”

“Yeah. I forgot to mention, Ashley’s pregnant.”

The “trying” they were doing finally worked. She must be so happy – they both must be so happy. You force yourself to be because it’s cruel to hate a child. It’s not the baby’s fault that you’re in love with its father.

“That’s… awesome, Leon. I remember you saying you were trying, so, congratulations.”

“Thanks,” he says, and the smile on his face looks genuine but you see his hands come out of his pockets, only to retreat. He was going to hug you. But something holds him back. Though she’s physically carrying the baby, he takes on some of the weight it seems.

“You’re gonna be a great father,” you say. And that’s the one statement that you mean wholeheartedly.

The next words to leave your mouth surprise you both. “How far along is she?”

“Not sure about the exact number of weeks, but she’s pretty far into her second trimester.”

“Does she have a bump yet?” “Can I see a picture?” “What about the ultrasound?” You’re just tearing your own heart out so he can’t when he inevitably leaves. Or, maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re curious to a fault. Maybe you’re genuinely a little bit happy because you do love him. That’s what makes it worse.

You realize that this is the last time you’ll see him. He’s not dying, and will likely return to DC, but his wife will call him, ask him to switch to video so she can show him the baby that sits perfectly on her hip. In your mind, she’s walking around their kitchen, still in frame while the phone sits on the counter and he watches, imagining the joy he’ll feel when he takes on half the weight of parenthood while he lets her sleep in on the weekends.

You can’t be in the shower across the hall while he sings to a baby over the phone. You know he’ll sing.

He has a better voice than one might expect and you know this because he once got drunk enough for you to convince him to sing karaoke.

“C’mon,” you say, nudging him in the direction of the stage.

“I don’t sing,” he says, though he’s smiling.

“Everyone sings.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me.”

“I’ll make a deal. If you sing, then I’ll sing.” He’s already holding your hands, you don’t have to shake on it. But you do (and he spits on his palm first to seal the deal and you tell him it’s disgusting but mimic the gesture anyway).

You sing Like A Prayer, and though you can’t hear his voice over the surrounding noise, you can see him singing along by “Heaven Help Me”.

He sings Jessie’s Girl, and you would be enthralled even if he completely bombed, but you’re a face in the crowd of dozens, singing along with varying BAC’s, you’d guess. You’re not Jessie’s Girl, or Leon’s girl, you’re just a girl.

But the last night you spend together, you let yourself believe that you’re Leon’s girl when you fall into bed with him. When you interlock your fingers you pretend your ring is at the jewelers or on the bedside table. When he fucks you, he’s being quiet because you can’t wake up the neighbors or the baby in the nursery. In your mind, your husband is making love to you after he’s returned from the war.

He explains what happened at Alcatraz and you’re Penelope, he’s Odysseus, except there are no other suitors for him to kill. No bow to shoot, no olive tree bedpost.

But like them, you sleep together in a familiar room. Finally, fully, skin to skin, he gives himself to you. He gives himself to you temporarily, it’s sweaty and sickly sweet. You kiss until your lips turn red, catching your breaths forehead-to-forehead until you hold his cheeks in your hands like a pomegranate, ripe and rotting.

He grips your hips until they bruise, and barely pulls out in time to spill his seed on your inner thighs, only a bit ends up inside.

It’s not the first mistake you make together but it is the last.

His trip is barely long enough for him to stand outside the bathroom and pray for one line while you sit alone praying for two. Silently, you show him the result.

“What do you want to do now?” he asks.

“Watch TV, I guess,” you say.

You sit next to each other on the couch. He leaves in the morning as was always the plan. You kiss him goodbye and with the same lips, he kisses Ashley hello.

You were never Penelope. You’re Calypso, and he longs for home.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n

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brotherseve · 7 days

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Ahmedabad Awaits: Your Guide to a Destination Wedding Guest Experience

Beyond the Celebration: Unveiling Ahmedabad's Magic for Destination Wedding Guests

Ahmedabad, a city steeped in history and vibrant with culture, offers a captivating backdrop for any celebration. A Destination Wedding in Ahmedabad promises not just a joyful union but an immersive experience, a journey through vibrant colors, captivating architecture, and the warmth of Gujarati hospitality. As a guest, prepare for a whirlwind of festivities, delicious cuisine, and unforgettable memories.

But before you embark on this grand adventure, let's equip you with the essential knowledge to make your experience seamless and enjoyable. This comprehensive guide navigates the city's charm, uncovers hidden gems, and provides insider tips for a truly memorable destination wedding guest experience in Ahmedabad.

Planning Your Ahmedabad Adventure: A Step-by-Step Guide

Accommodation and Transportation:

Finding Your Oasis: Ahmedabad boasts a wide range of accommodation options, from luxurious hotels to charming heritage guesthouses. Research and book your stay well in advance, especially during peak wedding season.

Seamless Travel: Ahmedabad is well-connected by air and rail. Consider booking your flights early and explore various transportation options within the city, from taxis to auto-rickshaws, to ensure convenient travel.

Exploring Ahmedabad's Cultural Tapestry:

Historical Gems: Immerse yourself in the city's rich history by exploring UNESCO World Heritage Sites like the Sabarmati Ashram, the walled city of Ahmedabad, and the Sidi Saiyyed Mosque. Each site offers a unique glimpse into the city's architectural prowess and cultural evolution.

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A Culinary Journey: No trip to Ahmedabad is complete without a culinary adventure. Indulge in the city's iconic flavors, from savory Dhokla and Fafda to the unique Undhiyu.

The Wedding Celebrations: A Symphony of Culture

Dress to Impress: Ahmedabad weddings are known for their vibrant colors and traditional attire. Consider opting for elegant ethnic wear, reflecting the festive spirit. Explore local markets for a true taste of Gujarati fashion.

Cultural Etiquette: Respect the customs and traditions of the wedding ceremony. Be mindful of local customs, dress appropriately, and follow the lead of the hosts.

Capturing Memories: Ahmedabad weddings are a visual spectacle. Be ready to capture the vibrant atmosphere with stunning photos and videos. Embrace the joy of group photographs and capture the unique beauty of the wedding rituals.

A Destination Wedding in Ahmedabad: Unveiling the Magic

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Local Experiences:

Rickshaw Ride: Take a thrilling rickshaw ride through Ahmedabad's bustling streets, experiencing the energy of the city's vibrant heart.

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Embrace the Magic of Ahmedabad

A destination wedding in Ahmedabad offers more than just a celebration; it's an unforgettable journey through a vibrant city steeped in history and culture. From the breathtaking wedding ceremonies to the city's hidden gems, your experience as a guest will be filled with joy, discovery, and memories that will last a lifetime.

Remember, Brothers Events and Entertainments are your partners in making your Ahmedabad experience unforgettable. Their expertise in planning and execution ensures your destination wedding is a testament to love, celebration, and the city's captivating spirit. So, pack your bags, embrace the adventure, and let the magic of Ahmedabad weave its spell upon you!

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eventcharmers · 10 months

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#indian wedding planners #wedding organizers #wedding planners near me

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junespriince · 2 months

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Renegade and Phoenix au (,,,, name in the works)

Bruce: Deathstroke, this ends here.

Wally, Phoenix, sighing roughly: me and A said to not use that line, use those ears for something else then what you do use them for, and you sir, *pointing at Slade* it 3 in the morning, I have school in the morning and he has theater at 1pm, this better be worth it or you're swimming with killer croc.

Jason, as Robin, on Phoenix shoulders: yeah! Like he said!

Slade: I have a new sidekick. One to put a hurting on you. Renegade, come in.

Dick, comes out, deadpan, no mask: sir.

Bruce: another teen won't do anything, Phoenix I— ... Where he go?

Jason: near the new guy.

Slade: wha-

Wally, sped over to Dick, (after putting Jason down gently) grabbing his hand with his: you are positively beautiful, are you free tomorrow? Because I will be, free, tomorrow, or any day of the week really, name the place I'll steal his card and treat you like you deserve, I *Dick puts a knife to his throat, Wally, bites his lip* so wedding in Vegas or wherever?

Bruce: Phoenix, he's the enemy!

Wally, glares at Bruce: dude, you literally have flirted and babygirled your way through enemies and heroes, hush I'm talking to beautiful, gorgeous over here!

Slade: you can't date him, he's trained to kill you!

Wally: maybe someone as boring as you find it like that but that's not a solid case for me.

Slade: I trained him to gut you!

Wally, to Dick: baby you can have my heart and my spleen I don't care, sell my organs! Just one date!

Slade: do you have an shame!

Wally: no, not really, but you should walking around like you're top dog or something, barely a Pomeranian.

Dick, snorts: I thought you said he wasn't funny.

Slade: he isn't!

Wally: well, hard to take a joke when you are the joke. Fungus face.

Dick, laughing: you know what, yeah, I am free tomorrow, meet me at the pier around 8.

Wally, happy, elated even, if had dog tail it be wagging: I'll be there!

Slade: what the hell just happened.

Bruce: I... I can't ground him, his aunt from the grave will kill me...

Jason: can we go home now?

Bruce: I.... Yeah sure.

#wally west #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #slade wilson #batfam #birdflash #wally is adopted by the bat #and he hates it but what can he do #besides now have the card to spoil people that can kill him #also slade bullying because #welp i love it so #this au is slade bullying omg #it all just bullying Slade #renegade and Phoenix #this xame from a dream i had last night

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absolutebl · 2 months

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This Week in BL - Everything Went a Bit Weird Allasudden

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

BL OLYMPICS! Week 2

I'll be passing out metals in various sporting events, as part of the weekly updates (through mid August) just for funzies.

Aug 2024 Week 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) eps 11-12fin - THE STAIRS ARE BACK and now they’re evil! Frank is truly great. He's out acting everyone else, but I'm just happy to see him pine. OK yes, the ending wasn’t awesome but I still really enjoyed this show.

In conclusion: (deep breath)

This was a sports romance Thai BL pulp with everything I could have asked for given this sub genre. More, actually, since MeenPing are both great basketball players and the team component really did form part of the connective tissue of the show (vital in a sports romance). Meen has his shirt off within the first two minutes which is all I needed but he's still pretty great as the sullen secret keeper against Ping's cheerful survivor - childhood sweethearts torn asunder and now reunited. Then Frank sweeps in to give everyone a bad case of second lead syndrome. I always try to judge BL for what it is AS BL, and what it’s trying to do within its own territory and purview. This did exactly what it claimed on the tin: gay boys play b-ball and fall in love. That was all I wanted from it. Sure there was random kidnapping and a light bought of mass murder, but what’s a BL in 2024 without a touch of the mafia? You do you little pulp, I’m disposed to be pleased.

Thank you, Rebound, for being exactly what I wanted. Is this gonna be anybody else’s favorite BL of 2024? Probably not. But there is a real good chance it’ll be mine. Is it perfect? No. But for me, it got as close as a pulp can get, so I’m giving it 9/10.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 9 of 12 - Them being boyfriends is so damn adorable. Like PondPhuwin I think I could watch G4 just be boyfriends for 16 eps and not fuss about anything in life. They're my emotional support pair brand. Back to the show:

My goodness Atom is such a frenetic high strung babygirl. He is a near constant emotional pingpong.

Gold in Table Tennis

K is a teenage saint. The lights thing, and the hands to head (reminiscent of certain previous characters from this pair), all made me coo and laugh.

However, this ep was mostly about the hets. It’s always funny to me when the gays have their shit figured out in a show but the hets are in chaos.

Also they're touted as "a teacher and a baker" but they're playing the gay dads of this narrative and I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. More gay dads in BL!

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 5 of 8 - I’m just gonna say it, because no one else is, this pair kisses like they’re in a Taiwanese BL. There’s no other way to put it except there’s a whole body genuine interest and enthusiasm to the way they do physicality that’s comparatively rare in Thai BL. This kind of on-screen sexual maturity is my favorite, especially in grown-up characters like these. The side couple = awesomesause. JJ is a very appealing character. He hates Methas, he likes him, he loathes him, and also... he definitely wants to see him naked.

All praise aside? I have questions about why half the hair in this show is so absolutely ghastly. Like bad enough for Japan. Enough of that now, Thailand. Tut tut. Cut cut. Style style. Please & thank you?

Then again who cares when we get...

They already won silver last week, but I guess they're going for

Gold in Weightlifting

Century of Love (Weds Gaga) eps 7-8 of 10 - Well THAT is an interesting take on a Faen Fetale. As expected, a somewhat doomy ep 7. I did enjoy the doctor punching San tho.

Bronze in Boxing

Meanwhile, that camel jacket is a sin against all things, especially Daou. But I eventually got a crying kiss. I love a crying kiss best in the world. Next week looks good! But I miss my nine tailed fox nod. Will we get back to that or was it just a brief weird thing?

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 5 of 12 - It’s kinda great actually. The romance is the only bit that isn’t really hitting for me. Gun’s smile at the "oppa" is so adorable. His little dimples.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - I really do not like the pet name in this one. Khun Dad is too weird for me. But I do think their relationship is ridiculously cheesy and endearing in a terrible way. These two are the equivalent of that couple that always speaks in baby talk. It’s a good thing they’re pretty because they’re not so bright. Wait! No Christmas music in my BL! That's far too weird.

Bronze in Diving

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 12 - I’m liking this a lot better now. It’s still a little slow for me but since the bullying has stopped relatively quickly I’m not as upset as I was. Also, look at those eyes, our P'Seme is IN LURV. That said, I’m not wild about the sudden suicide plot line. That feels... weird.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) - TutorYim are back and so far this is better than Middleman's Love - but that's not saying much. For a second there I thought they were going to open on the REAL blindfold scene from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. But then I remembered that that’s more Mame than anyone else. On a completely different note, I do like this pair. And I’m willing to give them ever more chances. That said this is very, I don’t know, weird? I’m not sure what is happening, and I’m confident that’s not my fault. I hope it makes sense eventually.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - Peak's dad is so completely frustrating and kind of psychotic. It’s annoying to watch. So I spent most of this episode upset. I'm glad he came around in the end but it was a lot, mostly unforgivable, from this side of the screen.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 8 of 10 - It's committing the greatest sin of all (in the realm of entertainment). It's mind numbingly dull. I'd sooner be offended than bored. Trash watch

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I don’t remember the camping trip from the manga, but I really enjoyed it in this series.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - The bit with the kid was cute but I’m still finding this rather slow and the central relationship unappealing. I think the balance of power has to shift for me to engage, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

It's airing but...

Bad Guy (Korea YT) - yeah, erm, no thank you.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - OMG a uni student who looks too young and a... COP. GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. Please SOMEONE pick this one up?

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me how it goes.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - it's your funeral (or, more likely, one of the main characters'). You can argue but... statistics. You know my feelings on this matter. MY BLOG, remember?