#and my old job was responsible for a lot of when I went through
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shyspider · 2 years ago
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I appreciate it, but I like reading your writing. I just need to work up to read *spicy* chapters. Which, because I haven't read in a while and haven't been 100% myself, I can't currently do, unfortunately 😔
Plus, my memory is shot enough that I am gonna end up rereading both books so I can tell clearly what's going on, lol. I do love authors like you who make the *spice* optional, and I do tend to take that option quite often, but I will readily admit its typically with far more /human/ characters that I do so with. History and all that, lol.
It's just been a really funky time, and a more physically taxing job is making my poor immune system laugh maniacally. With how companies tend to ask that you essentially work yourself to death, I have been making poor decisions. As in, continuing to go in to work, despite the fact that I am immediately going to bed sick every time I get home. I got sent home today because being too dizzy to stand properly still, whilst simultaneously having absolutely zero thermoregulation, is not good when working in a warehouse. Sorry for dumping in your inbox, same as when I am too excited, I am currently lacking social awareness of if this is appropriate or not.
Having said that, sorry again for just dumping all this on you, I am so far out kf it that I really don't even know if I am properly awake or not.
~Smooch
Social awareness be damned. I may overstep here, but I'll regret it more if I don't share with you something personal about me. What you said is a little triggering, because I nearly worked myself to death for a company that didn't care about my health. It sounds like you're burning out, if not already burnt out. Not trying to diagnose anything, but what you're saying sounds very familiar.
I'm going to ramble under the cut. Let's dump on each other, together.
It sounds crazy, but most of what you've said sounds like what I went through with my last job. It burned me out to where I was a completely different person. I lost interest in the things that made me happy and I stopped caring about my health. I had chronic ocular migraines, constant stomach pains, and I hated myself. I was not in a good mental space. I was burnt out.
No one gave me the help I needed or told me what to look for, or what was available to me. No one told me about FMLA, or medical leave, or mental health leave. No one told me about health programs to help my autoimmune disorder, or what a toxic work environment was. I didn't know buzzwords like 'harassment' and a 'hostile workplace'. I'd call off, but no one would cover my work, give me shit for being sick all the time, and I never wanted to kick up a fuss because I didn't think I could. I'd sob in my car, both heading to work and leaving. There were so many things I should've done. I had to quit, because it was either my life or my job. I was lucky I had some people to financially help me in between.
This may not be the same for you, but what does sound similar is that you're not thinking of yourself, first. I've made poor decisions and all those choices led up to letting myself get bad. It took 4 years to undo all that. I can go months without a migraine, now. I'm finally in remission. I see a therapist. I actually love myself and feel better and doing the things that interest me. (There are always problems here and there, but nothing like before)
Try your best to make the changes to protect future you. I don't know what kind of company you work for, but learn your options. Protect yourself. If you're able to see a doctor for a chronic condition, get FMLA to protect yourself and your paycheck. See if you are able to take a mental health leave, if you need it. See what EPA programs are available to you. Human Resources (which most companies have) is required to give you this information, but you have to request it. You said you work in a warehouse? Know your rights. My bet, OSHA will have your back.
Take care of yourself now so you don't have to spend years putting yourself back together, later. There is literally only one of you in this world, and you are precious and unique and loved. You don't need to respond. Get some rest. Listen to some music. Think about things.
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mercy-burning · 2 months ago
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…I Wonder
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes a full-time nanny to three-year-old Benjamin, but what she doesn’t realize is just how hard the job will be— not because of the child, but rather her growing attraction to his father. Category: Mature (18+) Content: adults with age gap, drinking, dry humping, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, “little girl” nickname, cum play, praise Word Count: 11k (idk how this keeps happening lol)
MASTERLIST
NOTE: This fic is titled after and loosely inspired by "Pony" by Ashley Monroe. It's not required listening, but obviously I recommend the song. It's been a favorite of mine since I was a teenager obsessed with Dean Winchester, so... that probably explains a lot about why I am the way I am... LMAO anyway, enjoy <3 I had a blast writing this one!!
———
ACT I: If I Had A Baby...
The first job I ever had also happened to be the best job I ever had. I was twenty years old, and I found an ad in the paper searching for a full-time nanny to a little boy. I didn't think anything of it, other than I desperately needed the money and I didn't mind babysitting. A few years out of school with no plans to attend college and no solid idea of what I wanted to do with my life, I wasn't sure if I'd even get hired. I was almost certain that no one would want a college-aged kid with no stable ambitions or previous job experience, but I was desperate. And CPR-certified.
It was a start. A shot in the dark.
By some miracle, Spencer Reid apparently was also desperate enough to be willing to take a chance on me.
He explained over the phone that he was away more than he'd like to be, and even if he tried to work from home, doing FBI work and raising a toddler alone at the same time was nearly impossible. I agreed to an interview, absolutely elated that I had a foot in the door and the bright beacon of hope for some sort of routine. Something to occupy my time and something to care about, to care for.
I was expecting the work to be... not hard, necessarily, but I wasn't naive enough to believe that taking care of a child was a walk in the park. There would surely be tantrums or bouts of "I miss Daddy!" or refusal to eat what I made him for lunch... I knew going into these interviews that I would be signing up for a major responsibility that meant a lot, not only to Spencer but also to his child. I had to prove that I could do my job and do it well. That alone was a challenge, but one I was willing to work with. I was ready for it.
What I wasn't ready for, however, was the betrayal I felt when my brain failed to warn me of the possibility that he was not only a single father, but a hot one.
The second I showed up at his door and he opened the barrier between us, I swear it felt like the sun swallowed me whole and burnt me to a crisp. He smiled brightly and introduced himself, and I was done for.
"You must be Y/N! Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid."
Doctor? So he was smart, then, too. Perfect. The Trifecta of Peak Hotness had been achieved. That instantly made this new job ten-times harder than I anticipated, and I hadn't even started yet.
I wasn't sure I could go through with it at first, but the more we talked, the more I relaxed, and I felt sympathy for him. He was a genuinely kind and loving parent who wanted the best for his son, a three-year-old named Benjamin who loved dinosaurs and airplanes and Cheeto Puffs. I didn't get to meet him that day, since he was with his Aunt JJ (who, the way Spencer told it, was most likely feeding his Cheeto Puff addiction as we spoke), but if the interview went well, I'd get to meet him in the next week.
I mulled over my options and almost decided not to show up for the next interview; to call and tell him I'd changed my mind or something, but it pained me to even imagine the disappointment in his voice had he asked me why. For whatever reason, the vivid image of a toddler pouting and crying to his father because he had to leave, and that no one wanted to care for him burned itself into my soul until I relented and just took the job anyway.
It was fair to at least meet the kid first, right?
Benny was insanely talkative— but not really conversational. Most of the time I tried to keep up, but his mouth was moving a mile a minute, and the conversation always ended up falling flat on my end, so I pretty quickly decided to give up and enthusiastically let him carry it.
He had his father's brains as well. For hours that first meeting, he sat there and read me passages of aircraft encyclopedias, and in between two random sections I politely requested that we move on to dinosaurs (which were infinitely cooler). And then, in that adorable toddler voice that made it impossible to be irritated, he looked up at me with wide eyes and said, "I read all my dinosaur books last week. This week is for airplanes."
Spencer looked like he was going to divert the conversation entirely, perhaps suggest that Benny do something else while we talked some more, but who was I to interrupt the kid's routine and crush his dreams? If I was going to be his nanny, then I was going to have to make him like me. Right?
So, I nodded like I'd never considered it and encouraged him to keep going. To which he did, very happily.
Spencer seemed happy, too. He was always delighted to see Benny when he came home from work, but there was something about the way he relaxed and perked up all the same at my first interactions with his son that twisted my gut. What that man was filled with at the sight of me wasn't just joy, but hope, too, and regardless of where that joy and hope came from, it was an incredibly dangerous thing to notice as a young woman.
It was way too easy to fall into daydream territory. I was alert and attentive when watching Benny, of course, but the second Spencer walked in and completely knocked the wind out of me with that joy and relief radiating from his perfect smile, it was like a screw came loose in my brain and turned me into a feral, horny beast. And then I would return home, alone with my thoughts, and I couldn't divert them from the wild direction they took.
At first it was just your standard wet dream, a girl lusting over the older man she nannied for. It was purely pornographic and provided nothing but short-term relief until I saw him in person again, which frustrated me.
I almost thought about quitting, or saying I was looking into schooling so I could cut down on my hours, but...
That wasn't fair to Benny. He and I had actually formed a pretty stellar routine, if I do say so myself.
And every time I thought about leaving, I couldn't help but think about what I would tell him. Would I even tell him anything at all, or would Spencer just omit me from his life completely and give him an explanation in my place? Who would watch over him after I left? Someone old and mean who made him eat vegetables instead of Cheeto Puffs, and demanded he read to them about dinosaurs instead of airplanes, not giving him the option to develop his curiosity in whatever way he chose? Who would tuck him into bed on the nights his father was late or out of town, and would they sleep on the couch soundly and happily like I did?
I hated even thinking about it.
And then there was the first paycheck.
Truth be told, I hadn't even thought about the money, not after I met the boys and introduced them into my daily routine. I remembered Spencer telling me after my first day alone with Benny that he wouldn't get a paycheck to me until the start of the next month, and I was okay with it. Really, I was just focusing on trying not to drool for the entire conversation, but I digress.
Payment completely slipped my mind.
And then I showed up to do my job, and Benny was nowhere in sight.
"Where's the little guy?" I inquired, looking around and hearing nothing either. "He's usually waiting at the door for me like a dog."
Spencer laughed and concealed something behind his back. "He does really enjoy his nights with you... He's actually staying with JJ and her kids tonight, though. Our schedules opened up and she offered to take him for the night. I was going to call and tell you, but I wanted to give you this, anyway."
He handed me an envelope, folded over but not sealed. I took it with an, "Oh," unsure of what it was until I saw the corner of the check. It felt rude somehow to open it in front of him, but his presence was so overwhelming anyway, especially being alone with him, that I needed something to occupy my hands and my thoughts and just about everything else I had in my possession.
At first, I thought it was a joke. A prank. It was too good to be true; He was just messing with me and would hand me a fifty-dollar bill on my way out for my trouble. Surely, if not that, then it was a mistake.
I didn't know how long I'd stood there, staring at the paper with whatever expression was all over my face, but it must have been too long and too concerning because Spencer sounded worried when he asked, "Is there something wrong?"
I blinked for a moment, then finally had the courage to look him in the eye, my mouth completely dry. "You are not giving me five-thousand dollars right now."
"Well... No, technically, I'm giving you a check for five-thousand dollars. What you do with it and when is completely up to you, but... You deserve it. Y/N, you've been a Godsend, and Benny and I are lucky to have you around. Thank you. Very much."
I didn't even think about it. It was an insanely kind gesture, and I was in such a state of shock and gratitude and mind-numbing attraction to him in that moment that I leapt forward and flung my arms around his neck, tears stinging my eyes.
He hugged me back tightly and laughed, allowing me to cry my thanks into his shoulder as we nearly tumbled into the coffee table.
ACT II: If I Was A Lady...
The months flew by, and before I knew it, it was Benny's fourth birthday.
Spencer and his friends heavily involved me in the planning process, a gesture that surprised me, but that I obviously would never be thankful enough for. It's not like I hadn't ever known a loving family or anything, but they were all so warm and welcoming; it was like I'd been friends with them my whole life. My chest bloomed brightly with every laugh and every hug, and I don't think I could have been any happier. I felt like I belonged there.
It was a day, and night, I would never forget.
Everyone had left, and Benny was fast asleep in his bed. Spencer and I looked down at him with smiles so bright, if they'd actually radiated any light the poor boy would have woken up.
"Ah, the cake coma," I laughed quietly, Spencer guiding me out of the bedroom. I couldn't stop giggling even as we walked—Admittedly, I was a little buzzed on champagne. Still, Spencer laughed with me, and we sat down on the couch. I could tell he was exhausted, but happy.
"I still have to clean all of this up..." It was more of an amused I'll-do-it-tomorrow statement, but I had this drunken simmering need to please him so badly that I shook my head and hit his arm.
"No. That's my job. I'll take care of it, you just take your beautiful ass right to bed, you hear me?"
He raised an eyebrow but laughed at me anyway, clearly amused by my banter. "Maybe I shouldn't have allowed the underage drinking after all..."
"Oh, please. I'm not even drunk, just a little loose. Besides, I'll be twenty-one in a couple of months anyway."
"Mmmm."
I hadn't realized how much closer we'd gotten until just then, when he hummed and looked me over. I could feel his breath on my face, and our limbs were just barely touching. Suddenly it was like my entire body was numb, sizzling everywhere we touched, and the champagne had become a part of my bloodstream. The fizz was all I knew, all I was.
Spencer's eyes found mine, and they didn't look away. They pulled me in slowly. I was powerless to stop it, not that I'd ever want to...
In fact, I very eagerly melted into him the second our lips found each other. My head swam, my fingers started tingling, and I was very aware of every movement we made. I straddled his lap, and he welcomed me with open arms, pulling me flush against him as his tongue darted out swiftly to taste mine.
I couldn't believe it was actually happening. Every few seconds I kept thinking to myself, this feels like a dream... It has to be a dream... Between the pent-up attraction I'd been accumulating for him over the last few months and the alcohol that loosened me up and dissolved any ounce of common sense I possessed, I felt like I was in a different world entirely.
He hardened underneath me and my nerves went nuclear, instinctively forcing my body to roll over his. I ground my hips, aching to feel that sweet friction that I'd only felt once before with another man— so long ago and so unbelievably dull in comparison to the sensations I was feeling in Spencer's lap. I was only barely experienced with sex, but I was experienced enough to know that I didn't have anything to be nervous about; This man would take good care of me. I felt it in my bones.
The thought alone sent my body into overdrive. I whined and rolled my hips relentlessly, wishing I was completely bare and feeling him so deep inside me that his absence would leave me haunted. I wanted to feel him forever. I wanted him to ruin my life and claim me as his own, until there was absolutely nothing left of me.
His hands cradled my head reverently as he continued to kiss me deep and slow, raising his hips up to meet mine and aid in getting me off. The gentle tugs of his fingers through my hair and the warm hums of encouragement he offered to my mouth as I climbed higher and higher towards that precipice of pleasure made me weak. I felt so fragile in his arms, like I was meant to be right there, allowing him to guide me wherever. I would have done anything for him, anything so long as he kept holding me and making me sigh—making me glow.
"Fuck—I'm gonna come," I exclaimed in a broken whisper, breaking apart from his mouth to bury my face in his hair. He brought his hands down to my hips then, groaning as quietly as he could into my neck as he helped me rock back and forth across his lap.
It wasn't an earth-shattering intense orgasm by any means; there wasn't nearly enough stimulation for that. But I was so wet and aroused that even the low, quick and burning pleasure that shot through my core for a few seconds was enough to satisfy me. I wasn't in any position to complain.
That was, of course, until I reached down to touch Spencer's belt, and he pushed me away. Not aggressively, but his hands—which had been so gentle and welcoming just moments before—had gone rigid. Frozen and firm, like he'd just been scared half to death.
He scrambled out from my reach and put so much distance between us that I went cold. My name tumbled from his lips in a regretful sigh, and it stung.
"We can't ever do that again."
"Okay," was all I could manage to say. I was still tingling all over, like my whole body had fallen numb and was now just warming up to the idea of having senses again.
"That was irresponsible. And I'm too old for you."
"M-hm," I agreed absentmindedly.
"You should go home."
"Okay."
"I'll call you a cab."
"Thank you."
I went home that night with a deep twist in my gut that wouldn't go away. The rejection hurt. It scared me, too, wondering if I'd still have a job when I woke up in the morning. Was that the last time I would ever see Spencer? And Benny? Had I really just screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me?
I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back on Spencer's couch, getting myself off in his lap and reveling in his embrace. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, hating myself for being so reckless, and even more so for not regretting it a single bit.
After I was finally able to get a solid couple of hours of sleep, I had a text message from Spencer waiting for me when I woke up.
I sincerely apologize for last night. The job is still yours, but I also understand if you don't want it anymore. Take a few days, whatever time you need, and let me know.
I was relieved, of course, but also deeply curious to know how we would keep things professional after something like that. I guess I was just mostly surprised that he was willing to, considering he seemed pretty rattled by it.
Still, If he was willing to try, then so was I.
I'm sorry, too. I wouldn't give up you and Benjamin for the world. All is well?
He texted back almost immediately; All is well.
It only clicked into place a few months later, once the initial shock of our "escapade" had faded away and we could return to business as normal. Because, really, the truth was we couldn't return to business as normal. We tried, but he never looked me in the eye for longer than a second at a time, he refused to touch me in any way, careful not to even brush my hand as he handed me my monthly check, and his small talk was even more painful than it had been previously.
Still, I continued to be Benny's nanny—and best friend, according to Auntie Penelope, much to her dismay. I still loved that kid more than anything in the world, and I still, unfortunately, wanted his father to kiss me again.
I was willing to let it all go, though, to admit that it was a silly stupid crush that could never come to anything and just deal with it like an adult, and then I had to overhear the motherfucker when he came home one night. I was resting on the couch, about to open my eyes when I heard the door open, but then I heard a voice that wasn't Spencer's. It was his friend, Luke.
Spencer cut him off then. "Quiet, please."
There was shuffling, keys being set down, and then a small laugh as they got closer to me. I didn't move a muscle, focusing only on my breathing. "Right. Don't wake the hot nanny, got it."
"She's right there," Spencer hissed, and I tried not to laugh. My insides flared to life as he added, "And I asked you not to bring that up..."
"Oh, come on, Reid. You have the hots for her; big deal. It's normal."
"So? I'm... I'm technically her boss, and she's far too young for me. It's not right, and you know that."
"Whatever. You do what you think is right, man, but I'm telling you; Ignoring it is only going to make you more stressed."
Spencer mumbled something incoherent, and the two shuffled off into the kitchen for God-knows-what. All I could think about was that he wanted me. It was probably killing him just as badly as it was killing me not to give into each other again. My mind was racing, my heart beat violently in my chest, and I knew then that I had to pretend to wake up or else I'd sit there and burst into flames.
I had to leave. I had to do something; What, I didn't know, but this revelation had me reeling and feeling a myriad of things, and I needed to sit with them, preferably alone so I wasn't tempted to just jump him on the spot.
"Did we wake you? I'm sorry." Spencer's kind voice warmed me from the inside out as I shuffled into the kitchen to say goodbye.
I quickly gathered my things and avoided his gaze. "Oh. No, you didn't. If you're back for the night though, I'm gonna go home. I'm exhausted."
"Little guy was that rambunctious, huh?" Luke joked.
I smiled and gave him a wink. "Oh, no. He was an absolute angel, as always. His daddy raised him well. Goodnight. See you tomorrow, Doctor Reid?"
He cleared his throat, rasping out, "Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Night."
I tried not to run mischievously out the door, willing my legs to be normal. But the second there was a tangible barrier between us, I bolted to my car, high on adrenaline and unable to wipe the smile from my face; I was wide awake.
Eventually, though, I realized it would be absolutely stupid to do anything about it. Did it boost my ego and my mood? Absolutely. It also softened the blow of his avoidance and his initial rejection that night; All of his behavior made much more sense. Sure, I was a little disappointed that he wouldn't entertain our mutual desire, but as long as it was there... It couldn't be that bad, right?
Wrong.
I'd gotten a text from him earlier in the day, asking if I could come over last minute to watch Benny. I wasn't going to say no, obviously, but when I got there to see him dressed up, I shot up an eyebrow.
"A little fancy for work, yeah?" I told him, hanging my keys up and listening for Benny.
"Oh, I'm... not going to work, actually. I, uh... I have a date."
I froze. I panicked. I didn't know what to do, what to think, or how to react. Naturally my thoughts immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario—visions of Spencer sleeping with another woman, someone older and not a nanny. Someone who was distinguished and well-read and smart, someone like himself. Someone who was more inherently right for him. It... made me sad.
Admittedly, I felt stupid even thinking that way. It wasn't my right to dictate his dating life, no matter how badly I wanted him; I knew what he tasted like, knew how it felt to come undone in his embrace, and yet I wasn't entitled to him solely based on that.
Still. It doesn't mean I had to like it.
"Oh... Um... Good for you," I told him, nodding and turning away in case he tried to profile me. "Have fun."
He said goodbye to Benny a few minutes later, and then gave me a polite, transactional wave on his way out the door. It shut, and it felt like my chest was collapsing.
But I was only able to wallow for a few seconds. Benny tugged on my sleeve and looked up at me quizzically.
"Auntie Y/N, are you sad?"
His sweet face lifted my spirits like it always did, and I didn't have the energy to think about the other emotions that were swimming around in my chest anyway. So I smiled at him and picked him up, shaking my head. "Not anymore, kiddo; I get to hang out with my favorite person!"
We spent all night munching on Cheeto Puffs and building Lego sets, and it was unsurprising to me that by the time I'd finished one, Benny had finished three. Still, our sets combined to make a larger one, and then we were able to give the people names and backstories and adventures.
Either time passed very quickly, or Spencer didn't last very long on his date, because the front door opened and I was surprised he was home before I could put Benny to bed.
"Daddy!" he exclaimed, running and dropping his half-eaten Cheeto Puff in my lap. I laughed and tossed it in the trash can on my way to the door, greeting Spencer, who was hugging his son tightly and making him giggle profusely.
"You're home early," I observed as he set him down.
"Had to make it home before curfew, of course." A joke. He was deflecting. I kind of hated that I felt relief at the insinuation.
"Of course," I agreed.
"So, what did you guys do while I was gone?"
Benny jumped and grabbed his father's hand. "Auntie Y/N and I made a whole Lego village! It has a library!"
"It does?" Spencer asked bending down to his level and positively beaming. The sight made my chest tighten.
"It really does! Do you want to come see?"
"Oh, absolutely. I just have to talk to Auntie Y/N first, and I'll be right in, is that okay?" He nodded and Spencer ruffled his hair. "Okay. Say goodnight."
Benny turned and ran to me then, and I squatted down to hug him. "Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Thank you for building with me."
"Oh, you're welcome, kiddo. You're an excellent building partner; The best in the business."
He laughed and scampered off to his bedroom, and as I stood up, I felt Spencer's eyes on me. I couldn't decipher what the feeling was on his end, but regardless, it burned a hole through me and made my heart pound in my ears.
"How'd it go?" I asked casually, dusting Cheeto off my jeans. Did you do it just to forget about how much you want me? Did it work?
He shrugged and leaned against the counter with a lazy smile. He almost looked exhausted. "I'd have much rather liked to be at home with my boy and his best friend to tell you the truth."
My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was getting at. Was he fucking with me? Or was he simply telling the honest, innocent truth, while I was letting my lust take the drivers' seat and go searching for some insane imaginary intention to help along my hot-single-father/nanny fantasy?
Suddenly, I was the one who felt exhausted, and Spencer could tell. He shifted and continued talking. "Thank you again for staying with him on such short notice."
"Oh, anytime. It's what I'm here for. In fact, feel free to go on all the bad dates you want."
I don't know why it came out of my mouth, but I was glad that Spencer laughed. Still, I scrambled to get my keys and walked past him to leave, kind of embarrassed by the verbalized impulsive thought regardless.
His hand grabbed my arm gently before I could leave, and my heart caught in my throat. I dared to look up at him and immediately felt that familiar heat return to my core, suddenly very fragile under the weight of his gaze.
He studied me for a moment before he let go of my arm and cleared his throat. "Goodnight."
I couldn't help the feeling that he wanted to tell me something else. He did say he wanted to talk to me before putting Benny to bed, after all... So, what? That was it?
It was stupid, and I should have just told him, "Goodnight," back, but those damned impulsive thoughts kept dancing on my tongue with reckless abandon, and I couldn't stop them from escaping. So, without another thought, I tilted my head and asked him instead, "Was she my age?"
Spencer stared at me, something darkening in his eyes when he responded, "No."
I threw back one of his considering hums, glancing down at his lips before looking him directly in the eye and giving him a firm, "Oh." There were plenty more things I could have told him, none of them appropriate. But I figured I'd already had enough pushing my luck for the night, and reached for the doorknob instead of dragging it out. The night would end like it always did, with a formal, professional farewell.
I was about to finally tell him, "Goodnight," but his hand came down very gently over mine and rendered me silent. Our eyes met once more, and a shiver ran down my spine.
"Even if she had been, she wouldn't have been you."
And then he opened the door for me, and I walked out without another word, my head spinning and my heart threatening to give out on me. He hadn't even kissed me, but he might as well have; I was just as breathless.
ACT III: He Is Nice, But He Looks So Mean.
I was actually littered with nerves walking in the door the next time I came over to watch Benny.
I hadn't heard anything from Spencer for a week, until he called and asked me to come over for the night to watch him while he went to work. I was going to do it with no questions asked, obviously, but because that insane confession was echoing in my mind on a continuous loop since it happened, I couldn't even bring myself to think about seeing him again and knowing... I had no idea what reaction my body was going to have to being in his presence again.
It scared me, but also deeply excited me.
Once my body had enough courage to step through the doorway, my heart rate sped up exponentially, and then upon seeing what was in front of me, it stuttered with a terrifying halt.
Warmth flooded my veins and brought a smile to my face when the four-year-old boy I nannied for and loved more than anything threw his hands in the air and yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Happy Birthday!"
He ran up to me and nearly toppled me to the ground, and on instinct, my arms reached out to pick him up as he hugged my neck and listed off the things he did to celebrate.
"Daddy said your birthday was yesterday, but we wanted to give you a party just like you did for my birthday! So we went to the store and got you ingredients for your cake, and we made it just for you!"
"You did?" I exclaimed, setting him down and letting him lead me to the kitchen where the cake was sitting out on the table, clearly homemade by two boys who didn't know the first thing about baking or decorating anything. Spencer was standing across the kitchen table with a proud, albeit I-know-it's-not-much-to-look-at smile, but I barely had time to thank him before Benny told me about the process, step-by-step.
As he went on, I nodded and admired the cake, complimenting the purple and green swirls of frosting (his favorite color and mine, he explained), and the trail of assorted candies in the shape of a stegosaurus in the middle (my favorite dinosaur).
"Do you love it, Auntie Y/N?"
I hugged him again with tears in my eyes. I tried not to actually cry, but the tugging at the back of my throat and the blurring of my eyes was extremely difficult to push away. I realized then, as Spencer watched me with his son and looked like he might have been ready to cry himself, that it wasn't worth trying to hide. I was extremely moved and even happier in that moment than I think I'd ever been. I loved that man and his child more than anything I'd ever known.
So, I blinked hard and let the tears silently descend down my cheeks, kissing the side of Benny's head as I told him, "I love it so much. And I love you so much. Thank you."
I looked up at Spencer and said it again. "Thank you."
He nodded, reaching for the star-shaped candle next to the cake. "You're very welcome. Benny, do you want to help Auntie Y/N light the birthday candle?"
The boy squirmed in my arms and I let him down with a laugh as he excitedly reminded us, "That's my favorite part of birthdays!"
"I apologize if you find an eggshell," Spencer warned a few minutes later, slicing the cake after the song had been sung and the candle had been blown out. He slid my plate over and handed me a fork. "Benny and I did our best to fish them all out, but it's... surprisingly harder than it looks."
As Benny nodded in agreement, I looked down at him and took a forkful of cake. "Oh, I don't have anything to worry about. I'm sure you two are excellent eggshell fishermen."
The four-year-old giggled, but his father sighed as if to say, Don't say I didn't warn you...
To no one's surprise but Spencer's, the cake was delicious. I may have played it up for dramatic effect, putting on a whole show as I chewed and considered every bite, playing as if I was unsure and really critiquing the dessert. I set my fork down and looked at Spencer with squinted eyes, then slowly to his son. The suspense was obviously killing him, his small limbs bouncing with anticipation and a smile that suggested he was going to urge the verdict out of me if I didn't announce it very soon.
I decided to spare him the wait.
"Benjamin Reid... That might just be the best cake I've ever had."
"Really? No eggshells?"
I laughed, reaching to give him a high-five as he beamed up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide-open smile. "Not a single one. You should be very proud of yourself. You and your dad, both."
Benny hugged me again, and I glanced over to Spencer, who was slicing another piece of cake and staring at me with that intense look in his eyes, a satisfied half-smile adorning his face. A rush of heat came surging through my bloodstream like a tidal wave, and I had to look away from him or I was afraid I'd collapse on the spot.
Benny didn't know it, but he was saving my life in that very moment, as the three of us ate cake together. I refused to look at his father. I needed literally anything else to keep me from even glancing his way, and my four-year-old best friend's rambling habits were the perfect focus.
He told me more about his process for decorating the cake, and while I was genuinely a little surprised at how much thought there really could have been with the task, with an ever-moving mind like Benny's, it was actually quite clear by the end of it. It charmed me to no end and filled me with pride to know that I'd had enough of an impact on him to trigger this level of detail and consideration. Again, it's not like I'd never had people who cared about me before, but when it came to the Reids, my heart sang a tune I'd never heard, and it was the most beautiful, brightly vivid sound I'd ever had the pleasure to hear—to feel.
I was thinking too much about it, letting the song swallow me whole as tears stung in the back of my eyes and threatened to fall again, when Spencer's phone buzzed on the table. The sound grounded and intrigued me, even more so when he glanced up at me for a moment, right before directing his words to his son.
"Benny, Uncle Will is outside. Is your bag ready?"
He jumped from his seat and nodded. "In my room."
"Okay. Before you grab it, say goodnight to Auntie Y/N."
I felt the toddler's arms hugging my legs, and turned all my attention to him, refusing once again to look at the man whose eyes I could feel burning me alive with something deeply ravenous, begging to be unfettered. I had a feeling, creeping over my senses like a thick blanket of ivy, that I wasn't making it up and letting my desire for him take the wheel, either; Just as the loving, family-friendly song in my heart had been—bright and vivid—this feeling was just as much the same in its intensity, only echoed with a sound that felt very much like those dark, low hums Spencer always emitted alone in my presence. I felt it all around me and hoped to God that I wasn't about to leave this place feeling like a hopeful, stupid idiot.
"Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Did you like your birthday?"
"I did, Benny," I answered in earnest, ruffling his hair. "You're very thoughtful and kind. Thank you so much."
"I love you, Auntie Y/N."
I squeezed him tight and made sure he understood every word as truth when I told him, "I love you, too."
ACT IV: When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be Your Girl.
The apartment was quiet when Spencer took Benny outside to meet with Will. I did my best to keep myself busy, cleaning up forks and plates, and wiping down the counter tops while simultaneously ignoring the hammering of my heart against my chest. The organ wouldn't calm down, even as I hummed to myself. It's like those nerves that I had walking through the front door that night never actually went away— only subsided for a little while in favor of wholesome celebration.
Part of me wanted to flee, but I knew it wasn't an option. Not really. I had to at least talk to Spencer and thank him for the effort. Perhaps I was good enough of an actress that I could pretend to have been ignorant of his glances all night, or at least that they didn't affect me like he maybe wanted them to.
Catching myself in the act of overthinking again, I grunted and slammed a glass of water, willing the fresh liquid to wash away any insanity. There was no use going through all the possible scenarios in my head, not when there wasn't much time before Spencer returned. No matter what happened, I wasn't going to be prepared for it.
I certainly wasn't prepared for the way my heart practically leapt out of my chest when he returned, softly opening and closing the door. It took everything I had not to turn around and allow him to see how nervous I was. I kept my back turned, hoping and praying I wasn't visibly shaking as heavily as I felt. I was warm all over.
His presence behind me was dense and ever-present― almost suffocating. I took my time drying off the plates and forks I'd washed while he was away, hearing him rustle around without a word or acknowledgement of me, and then he finally spoke. I almost dropped a fork.
"Why are you doing my dishes, Birthday Girl?"
"My birthday was yesterday..."
He laughed and came up behind me, a gentle hand on my lower back as the other reached around and took the silverware from my grip. I relented, feeling myself numb at his touch and trying to steady my breathing.
"Yes, but we're celebrating today. In my household at least, that means you're not allowed to do any work."
I turned around to face him as he set the fork down on the counter, his other hand still hovering over my back. It returned to his side, disappearing into the pocket of his pants as I crossed my arms and looked up at him. Thankfully, despite the constant whirring of nerves and desire coursing through my entire being, I was able to hold a conversation without hesitation.
"You're not my dad."
Another amused grin. "No, I'm not. But I am your boss. And as your boss, I'm asking you to take the night off and enjoy yourself."
The way he was staring down at me seemingly punctuated his words with a gentle seduction that made me ache with need. I was getting stronger and bolder by the second, leaning forward just enough to be toe-to-toe with him.
"Okay, then, Boss... Tell me, are there any restrictions to enjoying myself in your household? Because..."
The second I heard that familiar hum rumble from his chest, I knew I was in danger― glorious, beautiful danger. His eyes glanced down at my mouth for a second before returning to my own, his body leaning into mine and his free hand reaching out to trap me against the counter.
I tilted my head and brought my fingers up to toy with the tie hanging from his neck. "I am all grown up now, after all..."
"And I suppose you know exactly what you want..."
"Mm-hmm," I drawled, pulling him in closer by the tie. Our lips were barely touching by that point, and I felt my head start to pulse with anticipation as he urged me to go on.
"Well?"
"I want to be yours."
He hummed again, pushing his body to mine and bringing the pocketed hand up to hold the side of my head. "Mmm, Darling, you always have been."
And then he kissed me.
He tasted like sugar, but his intentions were anything but sweet. His mouth devoured mine with a fire that threatened to turn me to ash. Every sense I had was alight, engulfing me in a heat so intense that it was all I was sure to know for the rest of my life. It's all I wanted and all I needed.
I met his intensity with eager hands, exploring the planes of his body as his tongue did wicked things to my own. This time I didn't even need the champagne; I was dizzy on Spencer alone. The fizz boiled me from the inside out and urged my limbs to cling to him like it was my life's purpose. Hell, for all I knew, it was my life's purpose― to burn for him and let him consume me. To revel in his dancing flame and allow it to become my life force. I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything.
And I was sure to let him know that, too, refusing to hold back the string of whines and moans that escaped me every now and again. The hand that had been resting on the counter behind me came down to grip and hike up my thigh, our hips colliding just as beautifully this time as they had the last. The memory caused another wanton sound to tumble from my mouth, and Spencer caught it greedily, pulling back for air long enough to squeeze my thigh and sing me a praise of his own.
"God, I love the sounds you make..."
His lips were on mine again before I could respond, but I didn't even need to. Not verbally, anyway; I guided his hand down the side of my face and over my chest, pushing my body into him and feeling his fingers tighten. His kisses grew hungrier, and suddenly I was starving.
I was finally able to break away from his mouth in favor of tasting the skin and stubble along his jaw. Then, I buried my face in his neck and reached for his belt, praying he wouldn't jump away like last time.
Thankfully, he didn't. His grip on both my breast and my thigh tightened again, but he didn't pull away from me. His breath didn't even hitch.
I took that as a good sign and slowly undid his belt. The sound alone was enough to send a jolt of excitement between my thighs, though the visions dancing behind my eyelids of what I planned to do in just a few moments helped my pleasure immensely. I dragged my tongue softly along Spencer's neck before freeing the belt and sinking to the ground alongside it. His hands fell away from my body and chose to root in my hair instead. The gentle tugging at my scalp admittedly made me stumble, but not out of discomfort; I was actually quite surprised at how much I liked the feeling.
Spencer noticed, humming again with amusement as I went back to tugging down his pants. Still, he said nothing, instead watching me intently as I continued my journey.
I didn't hide the desire I felt as I palmed the length of him through his underwear. In fact, I couldn't decide if I wanted to keep my sight leveled or to angle it up at him, because it was a damn good sight either way; The sensual nature of my fingers gently caressing him, knowing what was resting beyond that thin layer of fabric and imagining how it probably felt to him, or the thick and domineering air between his face and mine, his gaze committing every movement I made to wicked memory...
With a sigh, I opted to lean forward, ignoring the sharp bruising on my knees and putting all my focus into the task at large.
Spencer seemed to tell I was thinking too much, gently massaging my scalp and cooing, "Have you ever done this before?"
Yes, but... "Not with anyone I've actually wanted this badly..."
"Mmm, that does make a difference..." he observed. "Whatever it is that you need to be comfortable, Y/N― tell me. Okay? Promise me you won't hurt yourself in any way just to please me."
A surge of heat exploded through me at the intensity of it all. He was sincere, and by the sound of things, sympathetic to my overthinking. It was another show of just how much I wanted him to guide me, to hold me in his comforting, knowing embrace and show me exactly how life should be lived. Every life experience there was to know, I wanted to know it with him.
"I promise," I told him firmly, not breaking eye contact as I tugged at the cotton between us.
His eyes struggled to stay open when I finally gripped his cock, feeling the weight of it in my hand and bringing it to my mouth. I glanced down then, taking in every ridge as it disappeared slowly down the length of my tongue. I reveled in the taste, in the fullness I felt the deeper it went, and once it hit the back of my throat and caused me to choke and pull back, I angled my eyes back up at his face to find the most heavenly sight I'd ever seen.
Spencer watched me all the time. I was no stranger to his intense gazes. But when I looked up at him that time, his mouth open and eyes so deeply darkened with need that they could have drowned me, I truly thought I might have died and entered the afterlife. Perhaps that was dramatic, but there was no other possible way for me to describe the feeling that coursed through me in that moment. Suddenly I was chasing it, longing to be in that state of euphoria forever, and my mouth eagerly went to work in pursuit of it.
I took my time, exploring the ways he could fit in my mouth and the ways my tongue could cover the length of him. I went in search of any pleasure point I could find, occasionally looking up to gauge his reaction and finding nothing but those beautiful, salacious pools of liquid gold.
Eventually, I was brave enough to take him to the back of the throat again, holding him there and seeing how long it would take before I felt the air leave my lungs. I repeated the process a few times, stroking him with my hand in between gasps of air and shivering at the way he tugged my hair. My vision was starting to blur, but I persisted, aching to know what he tasted like as he came undone.
Unfortunately, it wasn't in the cards for me to find out that night.
I whined as he held my head away from him, praying he wasn't backing out.
"Stand up, please," he asked softly. It sounded like he'd been breathless, and maybe he had. The thought that I had that effect on him calmed my nerves and made me dizzy as I stood, and his hands cradled my head once again.
"You are so good," he whispered, kissing me deeply. I melted into him, only for him to pull back and continue his praises. "So beautiful..." Another toe-curling kiss, and then, "So perfect."
My eyes fluttered shut as his mouth moved over my jaw and to my pulse-point. "My good, sweet girl," he murmured, and the words caused me to clench around nothing.
"Please."
The word fell out of me with a whimper and at its urgency, Spencer's mouth attacked my neck with a gentle, hungry bite that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Follow me."
And I did. I always would.
As much as I would have loved the opportunity to look around his bedroom and make banter about what I discovered on any normal day, my brain was so overwhelmed and numb with desire that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.
Not that I would have had the time to think about it anyway; He was on me the moment my legs touched the edge of the bed, devouring my mouth once more and pulling me into his atmosphere with fervor. Willing myself to get even closer to him, I brought my fingers up to thread through his hair and was rewarded with another gentle tug of my own.
Suddenly I was extremely hot, squirmy and anxious to break free from the confines of clothing, and Spencer could tell.
He broke apart with a laugh, bringing a hand down to trace the collar of my shirt. "Have you no patience?"
"You're the one sucking my face like it's the end of the fucking world," I breathed when he shifted the collar and exposed more of my skin to the air, earning me another low grumble of a laugh.
"You're not complaining are you?"
"God, no."
"Mmm, good," he hummed into my cheek, reaching down and tugging my shirt over my head. The fabric caught on his nose for a second, bringing a laugh to the surface of my tongue before he swallowed it with another kiss and tossed the shirt to the ground.
Warm, nimble fingers spanned my bare stomach and thoroughly explored the surface area of me, up and up until they slipped under the backside of my bra.
"Is this okay?"
I pushed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip. "Yes, Doctor."
Goosebumps littered my arms as he deftly unhooked the bra and slid it off my body, and I barely had time to take a breath before he was kissing me again, pawing at my chest and slipping me his eager tongue. My senses were on overload, that hot pang of need pulsating between my legs as I then fell backwards, letting him lay me down and settle himself between them. His kisses traveled lower, tongue darting out to flick over my peaked nipple, and I involuntarily arched up into him.
No one had ever paid this much careful attention to my body before—It was always a quick pleasantry to get out of the way before the main course. But the way Spencer held and touched and tasted me felt like a crash course in intimacy. He was still hungry for me, obviously, but he made it feel like it wasn't just about the destination. He savored each and every second of the moment in all its pent-up, beautiful glory.
Which is why, when he finally slipped a hand down the front of my pants, he seemed delighted to find that I was practically soaked through my panties already.
His middle finger pressed firmly at my clothed heat, and I sighed into his mouth.
"Look at what I've done to you... Poor thing. You're just aching to be filled, aren't you?"
My head had no choice but to arch backwards as I moaned into the open air at his words, my legs clamping around his hand. "God, Spencer, please..."
"So I'm not wrong, then?" he mused, teasing me some more and just barely pushing the fabric aside. I squirmed and lifted my hips, trying to guide him in the right place, but he pulled away from me then, leaving me cold.
Only a second later did the heat return; Spencer stood at the foot of the bed and gently helped me scoot to the edge. He removed the rest of my clothes and stared down at my bare figure as he unbuttoned his shirt, debauchery settling in his eyes as they raked over me. With careful consideration, once his shirt was on the floor with the rest of my clothes, he came down and caressed my inner thigh, slowly spreading my legs apart.
"You're so wet and needy, I'm willing to bet you don't even need me to prep you..."
All it took was one lithe finger to prove his theory correct. It slid into me with ease, and I whined out at the contact. One finger swiftly became two, and after a few slow pumps with no resistance, he seemed satisfied. "Mmm, that's what I thought... You've been ready for me for a long time, haven't you?"
"Uh-huh," was all I could manage under the circumstances. Every word and every touch was rendering me incapable of anything more complex.
He removed his fingers from me then, and leaned down to nudge my nose with his own. "How are you feeling?" he asked me in a whisper, fluttering a gentle kiss over my lips as his cock barely teased my entrance. It was such a simple question, but it only deepened the desire I felt for him— It was gentle and attentive and intimate...
"Never better," I responded earnestly.
"Yeah?" he cooed. He pushed into me slowly then, and I gasped at the pressure. "Are you ready to take it?"
"Uh-huh," I stuttered once more, crying out silently when he finally bottomed out and ground his hips in a slow circle against my own.
"Tell me what you want, little girl," he begged sweetly against my lips. "Please, I need to hear you say it."
I gripped his shoulders and pulled back a little to hold his gaze, almost gasping out again at the way his hips pinned me down. It was difficult to form the perfect sentence, but I figured I didn't really need to say much at all― only the whimper-y, pathetic truth, which was, "I want you so bad..."
"As you wish."
The words barely left his lips before he began to move, hooking my legs around his forearms and spreading me apart further. He fucked me deeply, and with a steady pace that knocked the wind from my lungs and already had me seeing stars. That had never happened before.
Spencer could tell, a grin forming on his face as he freed one of his hands and softly traced my jaw. "Better than you thought?"
Absolutely. But there was something about that cocky grin on his face and the lilt in his voice that made me want to be difficult. I struggled to talk through heavy breathing, but I managed to choke out, "Don't... flatter yourself."
I don't quite know what I expected, but it was a bit of a shock to me when he hooked his thumb into my mouth and pressed down gently on my tongue, quickening his pace inside me and making me gasp out again.
"Aw... Are you not enjoying yourself?" he pouted without a single hint of sincerity; He knew I was.
I cried out and involuntarily closed my mouth around his thumb, my insides burning alive at all the sensations coursing through me. My cunt clenched around him, and he cried out himself, laughing softly as he did so. "That's what I thought..."
I wanted to watch him the way he watched me, to study his features and his movements and take it all in with reverence, but he was too fucking good at this. He was so skilled in the art of rendering me senseless, all I could do was lay there and take it. He gave himself to me in the most intimate, soul-crushing way, and I wanted to bask in it forever.
His other hand snaked along the inside of my thigh and held me open for him as he looked down, watching himself fuck me. I barely caught glimpses of his wandering gaze, wondering how he could be so focused when it was taking everything I had to stay cognizant. I blamed it on my lack of experience with good sex, and silently vowed to myself that one day I would return the favor.
Until then, I would lay at Spencer's mercy and take pleasure in the simple fact that he was willing to give me this― to give me a piece of himself that would no doubt ruin any other partner. He was setting the standard and exceeding it simultaneously. He was kind and caring and considerate. He was thorough and thoughtful.
And he was making me come. Hard.
The orgasm hit me out of nowhere, my body stuttering in quick, pulsing flashes of pleasure that got stronger and stronger each second. Spencer fucked me through it with ease, never missing a beat. His thumb slid out from my mouth and down my chin, allowing me to cry out for him all I wanted, which, seemingly was his goal.
"That's my good girl," he breathed, his voice tight. Perhaps he wasn't as put together as I thought. "Let it all out for me... Please..."
Please... God, that word sounded so good falling from his lips. It echoed in my mind as I gave him what he wanted, though not from choice. It was like his movements and his words were designed specifically to draw the sounds from my body. I would have given them to him anyway, but I didn't have to try, and that was the magic of it all. He knew exactly what would keep me mewling through the most intense pleasure of my life, and I was more than happy to allow him the pleasantry.
His orgasm came at the tail-end of mine, and though I was steadily growing tired at the exertion, I found the strength to clench around him again, recalling how he'd reacted before. I reached for his hand and allowed him to lace our fingers together as he came with a loud shuddering sigh.
Finally, I was able to focus, another chill running its course through my nervous system as Spencer pulsated inside me. His movements faltered as he spilled over, filling me so deep that I had no choice but to gasp again. My name sounded heavenly on his tongue as it danced in the air behind curses and sighs, and suddenly I understood why he enjoyed hearing my sounds so much. The warmth that bloomed in my chest as I watched and felt and heard him come undone above me delivered me to the most prideful of feelings.
I watched as his face relaxed, felt as his body eased and fell away from mine, and before I had time to even think of what to say, he was moving, kneeling at the end of the bed and spreading my legs again.
Oh, my God...
I couldn't even tell if I said the expression out loud, but I certainly felt its gravity in my bones, low and reverberating as Spencer inspected his work.
His fingers barely caught what had leaked out, and then his tongue followed suit, licking a gentle hot stripe up the seam of me. My fingers clutched at the comforter underneath me, searching for any sign of stability as my senses started to lose control once more.
"Darling," he praised, kissing the inside of my thigh, "you took me so well..."
I was halfway through telling him, "Thank you," when he started licking at my clit, making me stutter. He took his time, tasting me thoroughly while filling me with his fingers. Between drowning in the residual pleasure of my previous orgasm and also in the sounds he was making below me, it wasn't long before another one approached. It was sharp and quick, making my back arch up off the mattress as Spencer sucked my clit into oblivion.
Rather than incoherent cries of pleasure, the only thing that dared to leave my mouth at the sensation was a very loud, very appropriate, "Fuck!" to the evening air.
The curse tumbled out over and over again as the orgasm rocked through me, and he pulled himself away from me at the end of it with a shit-eating grin. "Such a dirty mouth..."
It took me a few seconds to catch my breath, shivering as he climbed back up on the bed and laid beside me. "You're one to talk, Doctor."
"I guess I'm a poor influence. Sorry."
It was mostly a joke, but I could tell that he believed there was some truth to his words. I did my best to reassure him, not only because he was my boss and I needed to reinstate the idea that we both made the decision to sleep together, not just him, but also because I secretly hoped he wouldn't regret the decision at all— regret me. Selfishly, I wanted to know if he'd consider keeping me around as more than just a nanny. I wanted to know if there was even a slight chance that this wouldn't end in total emotional disaster.
"You have nothing to be sorry for... Nothing..."
Spencer studied me for a moment, something settling in his eyes that I couldn't quite place, but it felt... warm. It was a different warmth than the searing heat that his gazes had radiated before. Perhaps it was wishful, foolish thinking, but I almost imagined it feeling akin to the realization that you were falling in love— the type of warmth that terrified yet excited you all the same, that triggered your nerves and also gave you hope.
It reminded me of that dangerous, beautiful hope that lingered in his smile every time he'd come home from a long day at work to see me and Benny safe and sound in the comfort of his home.
His hand gently brushed mine, I laced our fingers together, and that's when he finally responded.
"Neither do you, you know... I meant what I said. Every word." His fingers tightened in mine, and I felt myself become breathless again. "You're perfect. And I'm lucky to have you."
"You're just saying that because it's my birthday," I joked, trying to keep myself from crying in front of him. I didn't know why that was so important to me, especially considering just a few hours ago I'd decided not to hide the truth from him, no matter how emotional and teary of a truth it was.
Spencer pressed his forehead to mine, sighing my name through a smile. "You are... the best thing that has happened to me since Benny. I was afraid to admit it at the start, but... You're so good to him, and so good to me... I genuinely don't ever want to know what life would be like without you."
I couldn't help it then. My vision was suddenly obscured by tears, and I was blinking them away, letting him capture my lips in a tender kiss that rivaled any other.
I prayed in that very moment that there would be more like them in the future.
CODA: All My Rings Will Be Made of Gold.
Turns out, there had been plenty more, and then some.
It's hard to choose a favorite, though obviously I'm quite biased when it comes to my boys. So, I suppose it's easy for me to recall the night I got engaged as my favorite.
I wasn't nannying for Benny anymore; He was in school during the day (Kindergarten! I cried dropping him off on his first day, and Spencer had to console me with kisses and ice cream), and by that point I'd been moved into the apartment for almost a year.
I was out grocery shopping, and when I came home, there were flowers all over the floor, bright colors scattered in an obvious trail that led to the bedrooms. I didn't quite understand what was happening, but my heart still hammered in my chest, unable to shake that feeling of warmth and hope.
"Boys? What are you up to?" I called, dropping the bags off in the kitchen and following the flowers.
They were both kneeling on the floor of Benny's bedroom, Spencer with an open ring box in his hand, and Benny with a piece of paper in his.
"Will you be my mom?"
Really, how could I have said no? There isn't a world in which I ever would have, but even still. Benny was unable to sit still, waiting for me to answer him, and I remembered the night they presented me with that first birthday cake of many for years to come. He was the same way then, happier than ever to surprise me, and meanwhile all I wanted to do was burst into tears over how much love I was feeling.
Unlike that night, however, I was simply unable to tease him with the anticipation of an answer. I couldn't even pretend to consider it, not for a moment. It was the easiest answer I'd ever given. To this day, it still is.
Benny ran up and hugged me the tightest he ever had before, and Spencer got up from the ground to meet us, slipping a thin gold band on my finger as I repeated the word to him through the tenderest of kisses.
"Yes."
THE END.
2K notes · View notes
may-stuff · 3 months ago
Text
The Only Thing He Needs | F.C
Franco Colapinto x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: Cunnilingus, p in v, creampie (in that order) typos and grammatical mistakes because english is not my first language. reader has breasts and a vagina but nothing else about her looks is specified
Word count: 3k
Author's note: Behold... my first child. It's ugly af but I love it because it's mine.
This is shorter than expected and I'm sure it'll disappoint many of you, so I apologise in advance. I'm just a girl trying to make the fandom happy.
Interactions with this thing would be appreciated, even if you want to let me know how much it sucked 💖
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The sun is setting when he finally enters his room after what it felt like an eternity. The weather outside is so hot that when the cool air touches his skin he almost lets out a groan.
Franco would be lying if he said that it wasn't an extraordinary day, because it was. Despite the tremendous heat inside the car and the physical pain he went through, he did an amazing job and couldn't be prouder of himself and everything he has achieved at this point in his career. Sensing that there's a lot more to come, he can only feel excitement for the near future.
Still, even after everything that has happened and all the love and support he's received in the last couple of hours, there's something missing. Someone.
You.
You were there at the paddock during the race, but trying to avoid the media and all the fuss that would be caused if they knew of your relationship, you left the moment you saw the cameras. He hasn't seen you since then, almost three hours ago, and he wouldn't be exaggerating if he said that he is dying because of it.
You're everything he needs.
When his eyes finally find you, you're coming out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in nothing more than one of his old shirts. Your hair is loose and messy, your feet bare and there's that glint in your pretty eyes when you realise that now he's here in front of you, breathing the same air. Your beauty makes his heart swell with love.
His arms are wrapped around your waist the moment you literally jump into his embrace. Soon you're showering him in kisses all over his face and neck. He giggles in response, the grip on your waist increasing slightly.
"Missed you." You mutter, nose nudging the left side of his jaw. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay."
"It's okay." Franco answers. "You're here now. That's all I need."
And he means every word.
You smile in response. A smile that reaches your eyes and makes them shine with such intensity that makes him feel dizzy with love.
"You should take a shower." You don't miss the way he pouts when you pull away from him to have a better look at his face. "You stink, love."
"You love me anyway. Stinky and all."
Your laughter echoes in the entirety of the room as you walk towards the closet, where you look for a clean shirt and shorts and then toss them towards him. Rolling his eyes, he walks to the bathroom, chuckling when your voice, from the other side of the door, reminds him that you love him always.
Almost half an hour later he comes out of the bathroom, all wet hair and bare chest. He finds you in front of the bureau where you’ve put some of your clothes and he knows he should be thinking about something else right now, maybe discuss the race and his future in F1, or maybe he should tell you how much he would love to let the world know that he is yours, but all he can do is stare at you. 
Leaning on the doorframe, he observes your every move. You’re not doing something extraordinary, only going through your things, probably looking for the earrings you’ve lost again, but he isn’t afraid of admitting that every single thing you do, no matter how big or small, make you look like the most fascinating creature in existence.
Soon, as every other day, he finds himself walking in your direction. Hands itching with the need of touching you.
There's something about you. Something that lures him in like nothing else has done before. Maybe it's your hair and the intoxicating smell that touches his nostrils when he buries his face in it. Or maybe it's your skin and its taste, so sweet that it forbids him from thinking straight. It sure is the sound you make when you feel his hands on your waist.
His long fingers roam the skin of your waist and back as his lips kiss a wet trail down the right side of your neck. A soft breath leaves his mouth when his lips reach the spot right over your pulse, wasting no time in sinking his teeth in your flesh, softly but hard enough to make you hiss in pain.
"Fran." You warn him. Dainty hands touch his in an attempt to push him away, but his grip on your waist becomes stronger with the fear of losing the contact  with your skin.
"No, no. Por favor." He whimpers. He whimpers impossibly close to your ear, the agonic plea making you squirm in his arms almost against your own will.
"You bit me, Franco."
"Perdón." He cries. "Perdón. I won't do it again."
The mere thought of you leaving hurts him so bad that it is almost physical. It's been such a tough day and now all he wants is to hold you and never let go. You're the only one who can make him feel safe, at home.
There's nothing in this world that Franco loves more than having you in his arms, being able to kiss every part of you and rejoice in the way your body and soul respond to him. Always you, no one else.
“Tanta belleza..." he whispers. Hands now travel up your abdomen and then your sternum, until they finally rest on your round breasts. When he starts kneading your flesh at the same time he keeps kissing and licking the skin of your neck, you moan softly. In response he chuckles, amused by the way in which his words and touch make you forget everything.
You want to be mad at him, you want to scold him and forbid him from touching you if he bites you again, but your mind is dizzy by his kiss and the feeling of his body pressed against yours. His touch breaks your resolve and he knows it, always taking advantage of that.
Today is no exception, because soon he starts moving against you. Hips rocking forward, his growing erection brushes against the roundness of your ass, making both of you moan out loud.
"Can you feel me, baby?" He asks and he sounds desperate. You want to answer but fail miserably because of the intensity of it all. "Can you feel how hard you make me? This is all because of you, for you." 
You moan his name when he moves his hips once more, your own body meeting him halfway, desperately  looking for the contact that makes your skin shiver. 
“You have no idea,” he mutters against your skin, words interrupted by the kisses he's still giving you. “The things I want to do to you…” 
Your answer comes in a shaky breath.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
The next few minutes happen so fast that you barely have a moment to process it all. In no time you're laying on the soft bed, your shirt is long gone and the cool air kisses your skin. The only piece of clothing remaining on your body is your underwear. 
Franco is at your feet, looking at you with eyes full of need and adoration. He takes a long time taking you in, pretty eyes looking at every piece of you, and when your own hands travel from your abdomen to your breasts, repeating his actions from before, a soft whine escapes his mouth. He observes as you touch yourself for him, right hand going down until you start playing with the hem of your knickers. He licks his lips, sight fixed on the wet spot in them. 
Just before you can sneak your hand under the soft fabric, his long fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you aside. He takes no time in replacing you, taking both sides of your panties and pulling them down. In no time they're being thrown to some place on the ground, long forgotten for the rest of the night. 
Hands on both of your knees, he spreads your legs open and lets out a shaky breath the moment your dripping cunt is finally on display. He has seen you like this countless times before but he always reacts the same way: enamoured with every part of your body. He wants to taste everything he can, he wants to drink from you until you beg him to stop.
And that's what he does.
Flat tongue travels from your hole to right under your clit, repeatedly, during a few tortuous seconds that feel like hours. Spreading you open with his thumbs, Franco keeps licking you there until you're the one whining and begging him to give you more. 
In response, you feel him smirk between your legs.
“You want more, huh?”
“Please. Fran, por favor.”
He chuckles.
“Qué putita que sos.”
You want to answer but nothing comes out of your mouth. Nothing but a high pitched moan when his lips finally lick your clit. Before you can even process what's happening, he's suckling on your bundle of nerves like it is the most delicious thing he's ever had the pleasure to taste. When your hands take a handful of his hair and tug at it softly, deep moans sound on the back of his throat and the vibrations rumble through your entire body, making your back arch in pleasure.
There's nothing better than this. His mouth on you, kissing, licking, making sounds that would make even the boldest of men blush. He eats you out like his life depends on it, ignoring the need for air in his lungs because all the oxygen he needs is in you, in your skin, in the very taste of you. He drinks from your juices as if they are the sweetest ambrosia, giving him life, giving him everything he needs. Nothing else, no one else but you.
You keep moaning his name louder and louder, not caring if others are listening. You'll deal with that later, but right now there's nothing in this world that could make you stop from letting him know how you feel.
“So good…” you moan. “You make me feel so good, baby.” 
He moans as well. Hips rocking against the bed cover, unconsciously looking for release. Your words are music to him, because all he wants is to make you feel so good that you forget everything else. Everything else but him. 
“You're soaked.” He groans after gathering your arousal on his tongue and then swallowing it. “Is this because of me, amor?”
Once again, you want to answer but his actions interrupt you. This time, your words get stuck in your throat by two of his long fingers entering you. Carefully, making sure he doesn't hurt you, but the only thing you can feel is the immense pleasure spreading all over your body, legs shaking slightly with the feeling of his fingers starting to move inside of you at the same time his lips wrap around your clit again, suckling with need. 
You moan his name like a mantra, both hands gripping his hair as your hips start to move almost involuntarily, rubbing yourself on his face as you look for your own release. He doesn't protest for a second, in fact, he grabs your ass in his hands to move you closer to his face and now it's impossible to part away from him, tongue and lips torturing your puffy clit as you cry out in pleasure. 
And then he does something that he's never done before.
His teeth grazes your sensitive bundle of nerves ever so slightly and that sends you to the edge. You have no time to react because soon entire galaxies are exploding behind your closed eyes. Some sort of electricity makes your body tremble as you cum on his tongue, and for a moment you feel like you are touching the sky with your hands. Seconds that feel like an eternity, you want to feel like this for the rest of your life. 
When you come back from some wonderful place you've never been before, you find yourself still laying on the bed, but this time Franco's on top of you. He's waiting for you to recover, only caressing your sides with his hands and leaving short kisses on your collarbone and chest. 
He knows you're back when you intertwine your fingers in his soft hair. 
“You okay?” He asks. You nod in response, a content smile on your lips. “Need you to use your words, baby.”
“I'm fine.” You answer. “Better than ever.”
He purrs like a kitten when your hands travel down his back, caressing his soft skin for a few moments. Then you remember that you’re the only one that has had an orgasm tonight, the realisationg making you feel incredibly guilty. Part of loving him is taking care of him as much as he does with you. That’s why it feels wrong, leaving him like this.
Your gaze finds his. He’s hovering over you now, one arm supporting his own weight as the other is in your face, fingertips brushing against your cheek and jaw. His big, pretty eyes are looking at you as if he’s trying to decipher you, and soon he does. It scares you sometimes, how easily he can read your thoughts by the expression on your face. 
“You don’t have to, you know?” He mutters. 
You kiss him softly, tasting yourself on his lips. 
“Of course I have to,” you object. “Because I love you.”
Franco smiles as you sit and motion to him to now lay on his back. He complies, never denying anything to you. 
Soon you’re kissing him again but this time you’re the one on top, legs on both sides of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth are intoxicating and, trying to coax more out of him, you take your hands to the waistband of his boxer and pull them down, just as he did with your underwear before. 
You wish you could take your time with him but you know that he won’t last long. His cock is impossibly hard, precum dripping out of the angry red tip. That’s why his reaction when you touch him doesn't surprise you; he’s at the edge and it won’t take much time for him to come undone in your arms.
“Amor…” he moans as you stroke him, spreading his juices all over his beautiful dick. You know what he wants. He’s trying to tell you that he can’t wait any longer, that all he wants is to feel you. 
So you comply. 
Both of you moan the exact moment he enters you, hard cock stretching you out in such a delicious way that has you closing your eyes tight. You’re so wet that he slides in easily, filling you completely. 
Your name leaves his lips in a plea that makes you move in no time. The friction coaxing more sounds out of the both of you. He whispers sentences that are never finished, words both in English and Spanish that have no coherence. He’s so lost in the bliss of having your sweet cunt wrapped around him that can barely speak properly. 
“You look so beautiful like this…” he manages to say, the phrase interrupted many times by his own moans. “Riding my cock… so, so good…”
In response you move faster. You can feel him inside of you, twitching with the need of release that will soon arrive. His grip on your waist tightens as you ride him faster and faster each time, breasts bouncing with your moves and that, too, sends him over the edge. 
“Fran…” you moan, your eyes pleading. “Come on, baby. Fill me up.”
Those words and your walls hugging his dick with such intensity are enough to make him cum. He reaches his orgasm in seconds, warm seed spilling deep inside of you and triggering your own climax, which is shorter than the previous one but even more intense.
You keep moving for a few seconds, milking his cock a little more. When you start feeling him going soft you decide to take him out of you, hearing him moan one more time as he watches his own semen dripping out of you. 
The way he looks after he has an orgasm is one of the most gorgeous things you’ve seen in your life. Hair dishevelled, skin glistening with sweat and pretty eyes full of satisfaction, he’s drunk in love and adoration for you and you love it. You love seeing him like this, knowing that you’re the reason behind it all. 
“You’re perfect.” you whisper to him, your lips hovering over his. “The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”
Franco smiles as his right hand comes up to caress your hair lovingly. Now, after the intensity of the love-making, both of you long for your lover’s touch in a more innocent way, in a way that can soothe all the aches. 
You stay like that, resting in each other’s arms, for what it feels like hours. After a while and starting to feel a little sleepy, you sit up on the bed. He looks in your direction, surprised and almost offended with you for pulling away from him. 
“What are you doing?” he asks. 
“We need to take a shower, come on.” 
You try to get off the bed, but his strong arm is around you in an instant, taking you back to his side. You giggle as he holds you tight and starts biting at your neck.
“There’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says. “You’re staying here with me forever.”
“But we can’t!” You laugh again. “We need to have a shower and eat something.”
“No, no.��� This time his tone is more serious. His hands are both on your cheeks, softly making you look at him in the eyes. “You are the only thing I need.” 
For a second you want to scold him for not taking his own well being seriously, but then a smile appears on your face, leaving the previous frown behind, because now you realise that you feel the same way.
.
taglist: @bicchaan @amz824 @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy
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shiplessoceans · 4 months ago
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Moments in House MD that made me absolutely feral as an O.G fan that watched it as it aired back in the naughties, shipping House/Wilson hardcore and not realising I was queer:
1. Wilson loudly reciting a poem to House as he enters the hospital lobby which contains the line: "His manly chest, his stubbled jaw, everything about him leaves me raw.'
2. The look on Wilson's face when a random clinic patient gives House advice about his date with Cameron.
"Do her....or you're gay."
*cue Wilson looking to the side like...wait a minute...*
3. House: "They were not Prada! you wouldn't know Prada if it stepped on your scrotum."
4. Wilson: "House I believe you're a romantic, you didn't just believe him, you believed IN him! Wanna come over tonight, watch old movies and cry?"
5. House (yelling across a crowded lobby to Wilson): "How long can you go without sex?"
6. The look on Wilson's face when he gets a masseuse for House (!) and she massages his hand, causing him to begin moaning orgasmically.
7. Stacey: "What are you hiding?"
House: "I'm gay... Oh that's not what you meant! But it does explain a lot thought. No girlfriend, always with Wilson..."
8. House watching Wilson sleep on the couch in his apartment, then quietly erasing a voicemail from a real estate agent saying Wilson's apartment application for a new place went through.
9. Wilson, explaining his infidelity during his previous marriage, to Cameron when she's feeling awful because she considered cheating on her husband while he was dying:
"Well my wife wasn't dying, she wasn't even sick. But I met someone who made me feel...funny. Good. And I... didn't wanna let that feeling go."
The lack of pronoun haunts me to this day.
10. Gay male patient harassing House and questioning why he won't treat him:
Patient: "Because you're a closet case?" (Eyeing House and Wilson who have just emerged from House's apartment)
Wilson: "Uh...we're not...together..."
House: "He is so self-loathing."
11. House nearly kills himself to attempt to prove there is no afterlife, Wilson waits over his bedside and then calls him an idiot and orders him extra pain medication. House's response is:
"I love you."
12. House: "Big romantic weekend in the Poconos could change everything."
13. Wilson refusing to participate in a board vote to oust House from the hospital and consequently losing him job for House. Wilson's furious with him over being put in that position but forgives House easily.
14. Wilson (speaking to House about dating a woman eerily similar to House): "Why not? Why not date you? It's perfect! We've known each other for years, we put up with all kinds of crap from each other and we keep coming back. We're a couple!"
House: "Are we still speaking metaphorically?"
15. (Less than a minute later when House keeps trying to convince Wilson he and Amber are a bad idea).
Wilson: "Wait a minute, every time I agree with you, you come up with a new argument. What are you trying to avoid?"
House: *Stares at Wilson with the most meaningful eye contact to ever eye contact*
Wilson: "Oh! Well if you'd looked at me with those flashing eyes before I was involved (clicks tongue)."
16. To Wilson's new girlfriend in a threatening, 'stay away from my man' voice:
House: "Give him back his sweatshirt... Pit stains don't become you."
17. House: "This isn't just about the sex! You like her personality! You like that she's conniving. You like that she can humiliate someone if it serves..."
*tense pause*
House: "Oh my god. You're sleeping with me."
*flees restaurant*
18. House: "I have really gotta get you laid. If I have to plough that furrow myself, so be it."
19. Wilson: "I have a headache."
House: "We don't have to have sex, sometimes it's nice just to cuddle and talk."
20. (To a bellboy at a hotel House is staying at, while gesturing to Wilson)
House: "After he and I have sex, I'm gonna slit his throat and disembowel him in the bathtub."
21. House going to interview all of Wilson's ex wives to figure out how best to break him and Cuddy up when they aren't even dating. The look on his face when Bonnie explains how good at sex Wilson is? Priceless.
22. House: "Probably my deep and very unconscious desire to get Wilson into my bedroom."
22. House: "If you're coming back because you're attracted to the shine of my neediness. I'd be fine with that."
23. House borrowing money off Wilson in increasing amounts to test the limits of their friendship. He later admits to Wilson that: "Maybe I don't want to push this til it breaks".
24. House being convinced the male CIA agent who approaches him in season 4 is a stripper and sitting on a bench saying:
House: "You wanna close that door?"
CIA agent: "Why?"
House: "Well I assume you're gonna drop trou at some point during the dance, I don't see why I should share."
25. Wilson: "I want a threesome"
House: "Shouldn't we try a twosome first?"
26. All of that episode where House is talking to Dr Nolan and says Wilson is not a consolation prize. Legit became convinced halfway through that this was going to be House realising he's in love with Wilson and wants to keep living with him.
27. House hiring a P.I. to stalk Wilson after they've had a falling out to see if he misses him. The P.I. clocks this immediately and treats the case like that of a scorned lover needing to know if the other party is pining and if theres anything that can make him come back.
28. Wilson proposing to House in a restaurant to throw a wrench in his plans to date their neighbour.
29. Wilson got mad that Cuddy hurt House. So he bought her dream apartment out from under her in sheer spite and moved into said apartment with House.
30. Wilson being indecisive and unable to buy furniture for himself because of a flimsy sense of self and an inability to figure out who he is and what he wants. House teases him about this and challenges him to buy one peice of furniture that says something about who Wilson is.
The peice of furniture Wilson buys?
A piano organ for House.
31. House: "You were thinking about Wilson while were were having sex? That's cool so was I."
32. Wilson: "If things go wrong, I just want you to know..."
House: "If you're gonna say that you've always been secretly gay for me? Everyone just kind of assumed it."
33. Cameron: "Where do you put the cane?"
House: (referring to Wilson) "If he buys me dinner he can find out."
34. That gay as fuck ending, fuck I'll never be over it.
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rubyvhs · 7 days ago
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who’d believe? | dean winchester
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summary. dean finds you six years after you ‘died’. tags. wc 2.3k, car sex (just fingering), angst, mentions soulless sam. lailas notes. this is for my ‘stuck on you’ by meiko square for @jacklesversebingo + actually got inspired by @little-diable ‘s not a ghost fic. so so beautiful and i think everyone should go read it! ++ for my 500 celebration, so happy i got to it so quickly && the title is the translation of the song title. and most importantly, beta’d by the incredible @copperboom82 who made it much more readable and enjoyable.
You were never really a bar type of person, mostly because of the loud noise and smell, other than that, you liked a good party. But you decided you needed to celebrate getting your dream job, or, okay, whatever, your friend is forcing you to. 
"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, handed you your outfit and went outside to get the car started, not even giving you time to reject the idea. Though the second you stepped foot in the lively place, you were glad you came.
The drinks and music were exactly what you needed; a nice night out with no responsibilities. And especially no men (at least none like those you work with, you're honestly over them). 
An hour into dancing with your friend, two more strangers join you. When the last song ends and another less 'pop' and more 'rock' one starts, they suggest going out to smoke for a second. Despite not once in your life trying it, you agree. 
You should really work on saying no.
Thankfully you're sensible enough to refuse when they try to hand you one, just standing next to them, linking your arm with your friend's. "Where do you work?" You ask one of the girls. She has shorter red hair that almost reaches her shoulders, black eyeliner and a septum piercing. In other words? Fucking sexy.
"Police." Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter. "Oh, stop it! You're fine."
You laugh but shake your head, "No, no, that's not what I meant, you're just so— cute, I guess. Wouldn't have taken you for the assertive cop type."
"Yeah, well," she shrugs, dismissing the thought. It's obvious she gets it a lot. "Saw the hottest guys today, by the way—"
Her friend interrupts, beautiful brown pin-straight hair, pale skin, a gorgeous smile; "God, he was pretty. And his brother too…”
"Oh yeah. Agent something and Agent whatever, I don't remember, I was too busy looking through the shorter one’s shirt." You all laugh, a sway in your demeanor. You're pretty sure it's the alcohol that's got them saying all this but it's funny either way. 
"Yeah, he was amazing. Like, those green eyes, honestly—" Your smile drops fast. Green eyes had always been somewhat of a trigger for you ever since Dean, especially that specific beautiful shade. Then again honestly everything's been a trigger: hunting, black cars, vintage cars, food, pie— you could go on.
"Oh and the way he walks? The little outward bounce of his leg, so cute!"
You shift, a little uncomfortable. How many guys do you know with bow legs, green eyes and are cops? They're probably not allowed to tell you he's FBI. 
The red-haired girl touches your arm making you jump. "Shit, you okay, honey? You seemed out of it."
"Oh, no, I'm sorry, just reminded me of someone. Old…" Dean. 
There he is. Alive and in the flesh. You don't become a hunter and not hear about the Winchesters, you, on the other hand, fly under the radar. Especially since you try to stay away from any and all hunters.
But you heard nothing of how gorgeous he has grown up.
The girls catch your drift mid-sentence and look back to see what you're staring at. A dumb-struck Dean. "Oh! Agent…" Her friend elbows her stomach and Dean doesn’t peel his eyes off of you to speak.
"Right, yes. Hi, Officer." 
She blushes under the dim light but Dean apologizes before breezing past them and holding your arm roughly to drag you away behind the bar. Your friend makes sure to motion to you if you need help before you let her know she should just get back inside. It’s pretty damn obvious you know the guy.
"Are you fucking serious?"
You let out a shy smile, "Dean, hey, how are you?"
"'How are you?'" He mocks, letting go of your arm aggressively, "'how are you?'"
"Is that not what they say anymore?"
"Are you serious?" He seems to enjoy repeating sentences much more than when you last saw him. "I looked for you, I mourned you." You mourned him too, in a way. 
You and Dean were acquaintances, occasionally hunting together until you stayed at Bobby's place for a week and he came to visit coincidentally. You both started talking more that night, exchanged phone numbers and became somewhat friends. 
Sam left for Stanford and you guys stayed together more frequently. Sam came back and you 'died'. Not on purpose, obviously, but Dean thought you died. You did, for a second, before you were brought back for some twisted, fucked up reason. Not that you knew it but if you did you're sure it would be fucked up.
By the time you woke up Sam and Dean had been long gone and your body had been buried. Didn’t burn your bones like he should’ve, no. He buried you. You're not sure which is worse.
"Look, I don't know what happened—"
"What does that even mean? You magically come back to life; you fucking call me! Ever thought of that?" A thousand times. 
But Sam had finally decided to come back and hunt with Dean, Dean buried you, and so, you'd reasoned he was fine. You knew that if you were Sam, your body would've been preserved in the Impala for months before he'd ever allow himself to do that, to put you six feet under. The fact that he didn’t hold on to you had to mean he was okay.
But neither of you deserve more guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"That's really rich. Real rich comin' from you. Grieved you for goddamn years. Six." Huh, that's a lot longer than you’d have thought. You were sure it would be six minutes. You knew he cared about you, but Deans also a 'what's done is done' kind of man.
"I'm—"
"If you apologize, I'll kill you. Again." You're about to crack a joke but his glare sets you off. Oookay, tough crowd, whatever. 
"I wanted to call, I swear I did," how do you explain to the king of 'I don't deserve good' that you don't deserve him. He'll think it's a cruel joke. "I didn't know if you'd want me to reach out, I thought you were moving on with Sammy, okay? Going on with finding John. Me calling wouldn't have made a difference."
He scoffs, shaking his head. "I went to hell." You bite your bottom lip between your teeth. He sighs, a mix of emotions on his face. "You knew?" Your nod makes him turn around in anger (disappointment? hurt?), kicking the cardboard box as far as it'll go, another plastic one breaks and you flinch at that one. 
In your defense, everyone knows.
"I couldn't do that to you and Sam, you moved on, Dean, I heard about you and Lisa and Ben—"
"Where the hell did you hear that?" Hunters talk. And he knows it. He turns around in an angry haze. "I didn't fuckin' move on, alright? I did what Sam wanted me to do when I didn't have you. Because my goddamn brother was in a cage with Lucifer, and now he's walking around without a soul!" He raises his voice until it gives out and so does his breath. You can't help the way your heart clenches, not even because of the words, but the tired look behind Dean's eyes. 
Subconsciously, you move forward until you can hug him, and like he always used to: Dean throws himself into it, his head in your neck as he breathes you in. "I missed you." He whispers. 
You don't believe how easily he's adjusted to this. If you were in his place you wouldn't hesitate to kill him, thinking he's a demon or a shifter.
He chuckles, his whole body rubbing against you. "Haven't hugged anyone like this in— ever. Was waiting for you." 
He's never been safe, always made everyone else feel protected, you could only hope you built a safe place within yourself for him. You're at least close.
"I missed you too, De. Every single day, I swear."
You don't know what about the sentence sparks anything in him, but it does. He pulls away to smirk and push you against the hard wall. You gasp, doing nothing but turning him on more and giving him an entrance to your mouth. 
He kisses you like he's lost his mind. He has.
His touch is electric as he pulls you closer, the heat of his body searing your skin, the raw intensity of desire saying more than words ever could. The kiss evolves, turning feral, almost carnal. He holds you, firm but tender, and rediscovers your mouth like a starving man. He is, he hasn't tasted you in… ever. 
This is your first kiss with Dean, but the explosive chemistry between you makes the blood scream in your ears. It was never a secret that you and Dean were more than just hunters to each other, and it seems you dying was his last straw. 
"We— Dean, can't here—" 
He agrees. Or he doesn't. He's still kissing you and you're not sure if either of you are breathing. 
Eventually he lets go. "Yeah," he whispers against your lips, moving for another kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, leaving a peck and panting out, "right." 
"'M sorry." God, why are you apologizing? Why are your bodies so far away?
He shakes his head, moves away (even if it looks like he's struggling to do so), "it's fine, what— you were here with friends? Are you staying?"
"Are you asking me to not stay?" 
He smiles, leans down for another kiss and you decide to say goodbye to your friends now or else you're never getting the chance. 
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"De, someone can see—"
"Don't overthink it." He says, burying his head between your breasts, kissing, biting, licking and loving all the noises you're making. He groans into your skin, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot that has you moaning out loud. "God, sweetheart, love that sound."
He moves his hands to your waist, thrusts his hips once, checking your reaction. A little tremor passes through you. Eyes hood over. 
"Can't believe you're here, and all for me." 
"Yes," you breathe, resting your forehead against Dean's, overwhelmed by his words and how close his hand is to your inner thigh. "Please."
"If I slide my hand up your skirt, will I find you dripping wet for me?" Another shudder shakes you gently. 
"Yes."
When he grips your knee and your neck, closing your lips with a kiss while his other hand travels higher, you start feeling your pulse hammering in your ears. The windows start misting over, giving you privacy— not that you particularly believe Dean cares. 
Dean moves his seat back, then pushes you until your shoulder blades hit the steering wheel so you're more comfortable, your legs bent on either side of him, hands braced against the door and his chest. 
"Dreamed about this," He says, his voice low and husky. The way his eyes are raking over your body, you're not even sure you're supposed to hear him. "Thought about this everyday for six years, sweetheart. Now I get to have you." 
He glides one finger between your lips, sliding up and down slowly. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes focused between your legs and you fall over, your head on his chest, before he pushes you back against the steering wheel, "nu-uh, wanna see it. Wanna see how wet you are for me, baby."
You have so much to say— a lot of apologies and 'I miss you's’ and so many more beautiful words and kisses and you want to tell Dean that you care about him as much as he does you and why you left—
He dips two fingers inside you. Curls them immediately, and just like that, he finds your most sensitive spot. 
You half pant, half moan, the words 'Dean, oh my god, please' a jumbled drowned-out mishmash because he starts torturing your clit, his thumb rubbing perfect circles, hard and fast, reducing your bones to liquid. But when you're right there, he eases away, lazily pumping two fingers in and out. 
He smiles, exhaling a content breath as his gaze zeroes between your thighs, ignoring your pleas. "Yeah? you wanna come, darlin’?" the pet name and the question both bring out a loud moan you didn’t know you were holding, your hips involuntarily moving against his fingers until he stops you. you’re about to whine again but he increases the pace, crooking his fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your clit, and that’s all it takes.
The orgasm rips through you, powerful, relentless, so intense you think you might just black out. You’ve never felt so boneless in someone's arms, until your head falls right into his chest as he works your pussy, the sensation easing off and then coming again like waves crashing against the shore.
Dean doesn't stop. His fingers are rough, his thumb still being put to good use, and the release lasts so long. So fucking long you think you have an out-of-body experience. 
It takes a minute until you're able to breathe anything but his cologne. When you can, you sit up slightly and move into the seat next to him, thankful for the lack of a console to separate you since you don't get very far, just lay your head on his chest. 
He kisses your head. You can even feel his smile against the kiss until you notice the bulge of his pants and frown. You quickly get up and Dean's entire face falls. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—" 
Dean grabs your wrist before it makes it halfway to his dick. "This isn't an exchange, sweetheart." Your entire body is like jelly, you can't move and you're pretty sure if you try sucking Dean off, you’ll pass out. But it feels… rude. "You're spent. I'll get you home so you can take a hot shower, and we'll pick this up again when you're ready. How about that?" 
You can't fucking believe your luck. Dean wants an 'again'. 
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leebrontide · 8 months ago
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I ever tell you all about my role model?
So when I was a teen we had these two black labs. Good dogs. I miss them.
And I was in highschool when we took them both to the vet for vaccinations or something. And the vet had this small tuxedo cat that lived at the office, just hanging around in the waiting area.
And both my dogs see this cat and all the fur on their backs puffs up and they start growling and showing their teeth and closing in on this little cat as my mom and I try to drag them back, panicking that our pets are gonna try to murder the vet's pet.
And the cat barely pauses their grooming to look at them calmly and bap both of them on the nose in quick succession. No claws out. Not even a swipe. Distinctly a bop or maybe even a bap. Then they went back to grooming themself.
The dogs stopped growling. They look at each other, and then at us. I have never seen a more confused dog in my life.
They quietly went back and sat down where we'd been sitting, and didn't so much as look at that cat ever again.
And like...these are 80lb dogs.
And I decided I wanted to be like that cat. Not violent, but utterly poised in the face of danger. This cat refused to acknowledge that the dogs were bigger or any particular danger. And the dogs were so baffled by this that they assumed they were not any particular danger to the cat. And so, they weren't.
And when I've told this story online, there's usually some women who get really mad at me. They say I'm endangering women, or I'm victim blaming.
I don't know what to say. I'm 40 years old and 5ft 4. I have been in multiple jobs that frequently involved standing firm in the face of large angry men with histories of assault being very very mad at me while I am isolated from backup. And only one has ever dared to take a swing at me and he was so drunk I didn't even need to lean back he missed so badly.
Is it a perfect protection from danger? No, that's dumb. Nothing is. It would be nice if there was something we could do to always stay safe but even fairy tales know better than that.
And it sure as hell seems to protect me better than trying to placate, or than panicking, or escalating or isolating.
And multiple men over a foot bigger than me have voiced that there is something innately scary and intimidating about me. Actually especially taller men seem intimidated by me. I think because I refuse to have any emotional response to their size, and it stands out as weird to them, subconsciously (many of them are perfectly lovely people who I'm not trying to intimidate at all, but who are naturally used to the way most people react to them.)
It doesn't mean I'm never scared. But being rooted in the image of that cat has really has got me through a lot of situations.
It also has for sure made some bosses hate me, when they want groveling and I don't, but I'm doing just fine anyways.
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causenessus · 1 month ago
Text
try again
part 0.9. ALL OR NOTHING.
“he doesn’t see her today. but he’s thinking of her anyway. when is he not? today, he sends a song to her, because he doesn’t know what she’s playing in her waiting room.”
content warnings: nightmares, lots of talk about death, the fear of growing up, parental issues, manipulation/guilt-tripping, someone here might just be traumatized, my booty writing
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when she was younger, she had a lot of nightmares.
sometimes they were something stupid; something that shouldn’t have scared her but did. sometimes they were things implausible; like walking on a dirt path, and suddenly the ground giving out on her and she was falling from an inescapable height, her mouth open and trying to scream with all her might but no sound was coming up, and then she woke up right before she hit the ground.
sometimes, they were about death.
about people dying.
she was never the one responsible, and they never died in a terrifying way.
they were realistic causes, like old age, or a car crash. none of that scared her.
it was her reaction to the deaths that scared her. 
her brain wasn't necessarily punishing her with these terrors of death, it was punishing her for how terrible and cold-hearted she was.
she would dream of her father dying of a disease at an old age and everyone around her would be crying but her. she'd stand there, eyes dry, just thinking about what she should’ve done. she should’ve said i love you, instead of love you. it didn’t matter that he was a horrible person, she was horrible, for being so selfish. maybe it wouldn't have been an honest truth that came out of her mouth, but at least it was something that would've been nice for him to hear before he died. and that's what she'd been known for; for being selfless. how could she ever put herself above another? she didn't even have a purpose or right to live. she felt that she only existed to burden other people.
she would have nightmares of her mother dying in a terrible car crash, and she was standing there again, face blank, thinking about how she should have stopped ignoring her. she should have pushed through her discomfort and hate for the woman, knowing she was still human and deserved to be treated as much.
the entire dilemma stemmed from the guilt that had found its way into every corner and crevice of her heart and mind thanks to her parents. they were the cause of her guilt and the terrors that stemmed from them, but she didn't know how to stop that. to set boundaries, or not let their emotions affect her even if it was all a plot to get her to do what they wanted.
she was an all-or-nothing kind of person; never able to just be in the middle. she gave the entirety of her heart to one person or showed them no care at all. she could either go against every warning signal in her head and put up with her father and mother in order to not feel so bad about the fact that they were providing for her (despite it being their fucking job) or she could completely cut them off.
her mother actually cut her off first, to be fair.
but then she cut off her father the moment she graduated from high school. 
she found a place to stay in the next city over, her last message to him being a simple goodbye, without any details about where she went and if she’d ever be back (the answer was no).
and yet that hadn’t been a clear enough sign for him to back off. she had never been able to communicate that to him. whether it was because he chose to ignore her attempts to distance herself from him or because he couldn’t understand what she was doing, he never left her alone.
she woke up today with seven missed calls from an unknown number. it was one too many calls to be from anyone she wanted the call to be from. there was a pit of despair growing larger in her stomach, a bubble of fear taking up all the space in her lungs as her finger hovered over the voicemail button.
no one needed her that bad to call her so many times. if her patients need her, they knew to text her, or if they really needed to call them, there was no way they'd call seven times, right? she'd have to check her voicemail, just in case.
she only needed one second before she hit the end call button. 
the hum of an old broken fridge in the background, a kitchen chair he always brooded at, keeping her from ever venturing out of her room, the broken clearing of a man’s throat. it wasn't a patient. it was him.
she wanted to throw up.
she wanted to go back to sleep.
she wanted to give this day another try. to wake up, have a phone clear of any notifications, and to have a good day.
but she couldn’t.
it was all or nothing.
close her eyes and stay in bed or get up and do her job.
she couldn’t let other people define her days like this. she couldn’t let the single, most vague mention of her mother let her ruin the rest of her day, but how could she do that? it was all or nothing.
the sound of the door to her apartment closing brought her back to her senses.
akaashi had just left for the day, and she was the last one left in their place.
everyone else was out living their life, she needed to be out there too. she should be out there. she had a job to do. people to help, no matter if she needed help or not. what day was it even?
she squints at her phone, the screen reading 7:30 a.m. she'd skimmed over the clock initially, and she almost wished she stayed ignorant. she should’ve been at her office by now. if she was lucky she'd still get to her office before her first appointment and if she remembered correctly, her 8 a.m. had needed to reschedule their meeting today for a different time.
the final push that got her out of bed was the thought that she’d see him today. she wanted to see sakusa. she could try her hardest to have a good day if it meant getting to see him.
and it all starts with one foot out of bed.
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when sakusa walks through the door, she looks more relieved to see him than he does to see her and he knows something is wrong. but she doesn't bring attention to the fact and he worries he might be overthinking it. maybe she’s just getting more comfortable with him, and is happy to see him. but, at the same time, everything about her posture says otherwise. her shoulders are too stiff and her knee is bouncing too much. normally, it's posed and whose foot hits the floor with anxious repetitiveness.
she was the grounding, calming force he tended to rely on but today it seemed that the roles had switched.
it wasn’t a bad thing, she had never been good at putting herself first, and he was sure that hadn’t changed even now.
“how was your week? i know we talked about a game you were worried about last week. did it go well? everything with your game and your coach?” she asks when he sits down. she gives him a casual smile but averts her eyes when he starts searching her face, trying to tell what's wrong. she’s not sure why he’s looking at her like that, as if he cares, but a small part of her is falling apart under his gaze. it’s the same part of her that’s loved him since the day they met. it’s the part of her that when they meet eyes, she feels a common burn between them.
“are you okay?” he asks, and she blinks, feeling like she's one word from falling apart.
“yeah, i’m fine!” she responds, maybe too cheery to appear normal. her other appointments today went smoothly enough, and she feel distracted from her own problems but also worse at the same time, considering she's spent the day listening to others' issues instead. she resists placing her computer on her lap, knowing she needs to bare his gaze straight on in order to get him off her back.
she can feel the weight of his eyes upon her, but he doesn’t keep pushing. she focuses completely on him, telling herself over and over not to let her guard down. it feels a little wrong of her to use the sensitive information her patients trust her with as a distraction from her own thoughts, but when it comes to sakusa, she think it has less to do with what he’s saying and more with the fact that he’s simply here in this room with her.
she wants to stand up, cross the room, sit on the couch with him, lean gently on his shoulder, not throwing her entire weight onto him, but just being in the slightest bit of contact with him.
would he let her touch him like that? or would he be disgusted? avoidant of her touch? weary of it? he had let her put her hand on his chest last time, but had that just been a special moment? maybe she had worsened since then, maybe he could see right through to her depressive state of mind and found it repulsive.
she had to close her eyes for a second and take a deep breath. she was getting too ahead of herself, allowing her head to demonize the man in front of her and making him seem like something he wasn’t. she hoped he didn’t hate her as much as she thought he did. they were in such a strange place right now, seeming to float between the relations of acquaintances, client and consultant, friends, and maybe something a little more.
“[y/n].”
the sound of her name made her eyes snap open, “yes? i’m so sorry, i promise i’m listening.” she had tried her best to provide some amount of advice and reiteration when she could, but he did most of the talking while she nodded along. she was paying attention but at the same time certainly letting her mind wander ever so often. she felt like a piece-of-shit-failure, sitting there across from him; silent, waiting for him to continue. she had no idea what he had just said before her name, obviously, so she couldn’t even try to pretend like she’d heard anything. she was a failure– it was as simple as that. nothing less, nothing more. a feeling of guilt and shame settled in her gut, making her feel nauseous on top of how heavy her head already felt.
“i didn’t say anything,” he replies and the negative, nauseating feeling inside of her spreads across her entire body, leaving her aching. it physically hurts, how heavy her mind feels. she shouldn’t have come to work today. she should have rescheduled appointments rather than being selfish. maybe she should have never started this career to begin with. “i just said i think it’s almost been an hour.”
she glances at the clock on her wall, and he’s right. their time is up, and for some reason that feels like the end of the world to her. “you’re completely right. i’m sorry, sakusa. i hope you still got something out of today’s session even though I was a little out of it. sorry about that, again– i promise i care and that i was trying to listen as best as i could…” she trails off, feeling like her excuse is meaningless. she should’ve left it at her apology. she couldn’t even say that she was listening as best as she could, only that she tried. and her trying wasn’t good enough. anything less than perfect felt wrong to her; like the worst possible outcome. if she wasn’t always putting her all into her work, how could she hope to help people? as always, she could only ever give people all or nothing. and in her field, she was responsible for making their mental and physical states better, she shouldn’t be so emotional at a time like this it was pathetic and wrong–
they’re standing at her door, and she’s holding it open for him as always. she’d spaced out again, waiting for him to leave so that she could close and lock the door and spend an hour on the floor crying before figuring out how to get home on her own without breaking down in public. but he hadn't left yet. he was stopped in front of her, she realizes. he's staring down at her and now she’s looking back up at him. some of his curls are falling in front of his eyes, and she wants to brush them away.
really, she wants to be in his arms. maybe that would make everything feel better.
but she doesn’t feel like she has the right to hug him anymore. their talk over text a few nights ago feels so far away, like who she was only a few nights ago is a completely different person from who she is now. she doesn’t know who she is, she just feels like a soulless body. she wishes she could go back in time, so many years ago when things weren’t much easier, but at least she still had him. if she could go back in time, she never would have left him. she wishes she could tear her heart out, put up with her father, and never have let him ruin her entire life.
“do you need anything?” he asks softly because he’s not sure how else to word it. what he wants to say, the four simple words “i care about you” get lodged in his throat because, for some reason, it's easier for him to confess almost his entire heart to her behind a screen. so he settles for this question instead, leaving it open, for however she wants to interpret and respond to it.
“no,” she lies. she knows she can ask for help, but she can’t, she can't let herself. “i’m okay, thank you. i’m sure you have other things to do today. don’t let me hold you up.” she’s staring at his jacket now, waiting to watch it start to move, but it doesn't. he doesn’t even move an inch after her answer.
“i don’t have anything else going on today. i want to be there for you.” his voice sounds like everything she could ever wish for. he sounds like the person she spent nights crying to whatever heavenly body resided above, asking them to give her someone, anyone to come into her life and love her.
“you’re my last patient for the day,” she finds herself saying. she never was able to resist him much, “i have to close up, but if you want to go somewhere afterwards, you can wait for me, but only if you want to.”
“i’ll wait,” he agrees. “i’ll wait for you. i want to.”
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extras <3
hi! :3
this chapter was started all the way back in September wow!!!
the tea gossipers have each other's locations
so you best believe they're about to check y/n's location and see she's going out somewhere after work
and together, the three men will piece together what's going on
that's for next chapter
or the chapter after that
next chapter soon!!!
two chapters left <3
taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost  @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru (form to be added to taglist! <3)
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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago
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What do you do Dad?
Simon Riley + OOC Children
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Support me on Ko-Fi!
Your children ask about their fathers job
Fluffy
It was days like this Simon lived for- Were he could just relax and let his guard down just a little.. enjoy time with his family and get a taste of domestic bliss- Seated on the sofa with his 5 year old triplets piled on him like he was a bed and they were all watching Bluey, You'd had him watch the litter while you picked up the dog Riley from the groomers.
Hazel was nestled on his left just under his arm and curled into his side- Rose sitting on his lap with her head on his chest and Johnny sitting in his right arm with his head tucked onto Simon's neck.
It was defiently a bit cramped for Simon's taste but he wasn't one to complain- Especially since it ment time with his kids watching cartoons all day and wiping boogers.
"Daddy?" Hazel voice cut through the man's thoughts, Simon humming in response as he waited for his daughters question.
"What do you do?" She asked, Simon confused by the question as he looked at Hazel who was staring up at him with big eyes.
"What do you mean Dove?"
"At your job when you go away? What do you do?" Hazel ask, Simon feeling a Sinking feeling in his chest at her question as he stared at the matching eyes before him. He had been dreading this day, he truly had and what made it worse was you not being there to help him- His mind flashing the horrors he had done, the smell of gunpowder seemingly filling his nose from nowhere and he felt like his mask was brushing against his face. The feeling of Ghost wrapping his fingers around his heart again and getting to close to comfort to his children- bringing fear into mouth.
Why did you have to go to pick up the Dog from the groomers today..
"I do a lot of things Bug.." He started, watching how she scrunched her face in mild irritation clearly able to tell he was dodging the real answer. The dodging made Rose look up and seem curious as well, Johnny shifting as well at feeling his father become uncomfortable. They were all too smart to let it go as well, He blamed you for that..-
Sitting up some more he gently pulled them from his sides and set them all on his lap facing him in order to listen equally.
"I work for the military, I'm a soldier- So my job is to help other people get to safety from bad guys" He worded the best he could, Hazel staring at her father as he said this and chewing over his words.
"How?" Johnny signed, For the first time that day wanting to 'speak' it seemed. Simon almost wishing that his Lad didn't ask.
"By fighting"
"It is, But remember how I've always said you should never hit first but if they hit you, it's okay? It's like that- They hit first and so they send me to hit back" He explained as carefully as possible.
Rose face twisted up at this, Surprised by his words. His little princess, a gentle soul who was sad by the idea of her father fighting.
"But fighting is bad- is that why you have booboos?" She said softly, Simon wincing at her words. He figured he'd hidden some of the scarier scars better so they didn't see them, Seemed not.
Simon waited for- something? His anxiety up and prepared for something negative...
But instead Hazel moved first, going right back to her spot happily.
"So You're like the hero people on TV right?" She seemed to reason, Simon nodding calmly as she settled back in. Seemingly satisfied with the answer and line of thinking- Johnny next moving back to his spot giving a thumbs up also in agreement. Rose being the last, Looking to her siblings and seeing them seemingly fine with what they had learned- So she returned as well and the trio went back to watching Cartoons.
Simon sat there, a bit shocked in truth. He'd expected more? But he was happy there wasnt... he knew they were way to young to truly understand what he did, but he preferred it that way.
A wash of peace falling over him once more and he settle back in for the cartoons. Ghost once again falling away and hidden from his precious family-
"I love you lot so much..."
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starlightsuffered · 5 months ago
Note
can you please make kyle fics 😇 i loved your old ones
STRONG CONTENT WARNING
School Parking Lot
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Info - Fauxcest, daddy kink, roleplay, ageplay, kinky scene, unprotected sex, some breeding kink, car sex, reassurance, getting off on the taboo, desire for cumflation/blow jobs, baby talk, dom male, school girl outfit, biting nipple, finger sucking, size kink,
I pulled up in my car. I felt my cock straining in my dark trousers. I took it out and let out a desperate sigh. I let it throb against the fabric of my shirt. I gave into temptation and rubbed it a bit.
“Ohhhh baby girl,” I let out a sigh of relief. I couldn’t wait to play out this fantasy. I’d begged y/n for weeks and she said she didn’t want a lot of people around. She agreed that her first week of work we could engage in this roleplay. I had felt a bit guilty for pushing it but telling from her sopping pussy when she let me kiss it goodbye this morning, she was excited too.
Finally, finally, she sent me the go ahead. Alleviation pumped through me. I was finally gonna get my perverted wish come true.
I marched into her work place, though right now we were pretending it was where she went to school. I straighten my tie and rolled up my white sleeves. I yanked open the door I knew went to her classroom.
She wore exactly what I’d asked. I swore under my breath as I took her in. My eyes drank in the delicious sight. Her breasts were nearly bursting out of the button down. The shirt was sheer enough I could see the mauve coloured bra she wore. She flaunted a short black skirt and long black stockings. The little school girl outfit had my cock drooling.
I stalked up to her. She gave me innocent doe eyes.
“Why am I here?” I demanded.
“Um, I don’t know, the office told me my daddy was here to pick me up,” she said in that tantalisingly submissive voice.
“Come with me,” I growled.
“Yes Kyle,” I agreed.
I pulled her to the car, I was so excited I could skip. I slammed her against the black body of the vehicle. I pressed my body against her so she could feel my hard length. I snatched my phone from my pocket and brought up the little sex tape she’d made me.
“Daddy had to leave his business trip, do you know why?” I demanded.
“I haven’t got a clue,” she said with faux innocence.
“Daddy found this among my work files. You think I was able to work after I saw this? You think I didn’t catch the next flight here and come to comfort you?”
“I’m sorry daddy,” she pouted. “It’s hard when you’re so sexy. I thought you’d like them. You just make my princess parts feel really wet and weird and I don’t know what’s happening.”
Fuck she was good at this. With how long it had taken her to agree I thought she might not know how to act. However, all this was perfect and I was getting dizzy from all the blood running to my cock.
“Get in the fucking car,” I snarled. She climbed in, wiggling her ass a bit too much for her own good I climbed in the back with her.
“You think you’re smart for doing this?” I snapped. She gave me a pitiful look.
“I’m sorry daddy, I thought you’d like it. I thought you’d wanna see your little princess when you were away,” she whined.
“Fuck,” I grunted.
“Daddy Kyle,” she purred. “Am I too old to sit on your lap?”
“Ohhhh, fuck no, get over here,” I said in a husky voice. She scrambled into my lap.
“Daddy,” she giggled coquettishly. “There’s something hard under me.”
“You want to know what that is don’t you?” I said in a deep voice.
“Uh huh,” she nodded.
She moved back so I could undo my belt. She licked her lips as she heard the jingle. I pushed down my pants and boxers. I pulled out my cock to show her.
“Oh,” she gasped. Her tits bouncing as she overdid her response.
“Yeah that hard thing was daddies big, thick, hairy, adult cock,” I cooed as I cupped her jaw. I pressed my thumb to her lips and she automatically sucked my thumb inside her mouth. She was whimpering and suckling on my thumb. My dick was rock fucking hard.
“Oh daddy, I want it,” she whimpered. I throbbed hard.
“Yeah? You want my big cock in your snug cunny?” I asked her.
“Yes, but d-daddy,” she looked cautious. She was pressing her huge tits against me. She looked so innocent and sweet. She’d be so delicious to ruin.
“I-I don’t have hair down there daddy. I know that might be what you want. I’m inexperienced,” she sniffled. Fuck this shit was hitting hard as fuck. I was only barely keeping myself together. I wanted to fucking pounce on her and just go wild.
“Want to know a secret baby girl?” I whispered, my fingers digging into her curves.
“What?” She asked with a girlish curiosity.
“Dad likes snug little hairless puffy pussies like yours. I think they're so much better than anything else,” I murmured in her ear.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned. Soon she was lifting up her skirt, and she wasn’t wearing fucking panties. I gulped.
She straddled me before sliding down slowly on my heavy dick. We both let out near wails of bliss. I grabbed her hips.
“Am I so small daddy can work me up and down on your grown up dick?” She asked with a giggle. I was ramming up into her while bouncing her. I was wild. I wanted to ruin and destroy her completely. I was so turned on it should be illegal.
“Oh, oh, oh!” She let loose such sweet, high pitched whines.
“Daddy has wanted to take your juicy cunny for so long,” I growled.
“Yes!” She cried. I wanted to hit her cervix.
“Daddy, I’m so naughty,” she said earnestly, gripping my shoulders to aid her movements.
“Why? tell me princess,” I ordered as I undid her buttons. Her nipples were hardened buds. I bit the left one and she groaned.
“I love daddy cum so much! I wanna suck you off every morning. I want my little school girl uniform to bulge a bit more because my tummy is so full. I wanna be cum drunk and unable to tell any of my friends at school who made me that way.”
“Oh yes,” I snapped with delicious pleasure. Her cunt was so fucking tight and perfect. I was bouncing her weak little body. Her tits moved up and down heavily.
“You want your baby girl to blow you all the time?” She asked in a whimpering tone.
“Yes, fuck yes. Oh that tiny tummy bulging with daddy cum. Fuuuuck me, I need to knock you up. It’s so perverted and taboo and wrong! I was to fill you over and over.”
“Pleassssse!” she nearly howled. “PLEASE!”
“DADDDY! Your cock!” She squealed. She was going so far down. My balls slapped her ass. I was deep and snug inside her. She was clenching and moaning.
“You gonna go to school with my cum running down your thighs baby?” I cooed. “Be a good girl and keep it inside you as long as you can?”
“Yes, fuck yes, anything you want or say,” she panted.
“I know baby girl,” I soothed. “You’re so good for me. Taking that sexy little video. You knew daddy would need to wank on his business trip didn’t you?”
“I knew, I knew, I knew,” she heaved.
“That’s my good girl,” I told her. I was on the brink of exploding.
“Daddy, touch my clitty please,” she begged. I stopped her movement. I pulled out and pressed my tip to her bundle of nerves. She threw her head back and rubbed her nipples.
“Does daddy’s tip feel good on your swollen clitty?” I asked.
“Mmmhmm,” she whined.
“Now, you’re going to let daddy bust a nut inside you with no protection aren’t you?” I asked as I carefully guided my cock back inside her.
“Yes sir,” she nodded.
“That’s it, bounce, oh fuck,” I grunted. I was moving her almost violently. She was hiccuping and moaning and sucking my thumb. She looked completely out of it.
“Dad, gon come,” she mumbled. Her snug, fluttering walls were all I needed to paint her insides white. I gasped as I shoved myself balls deep and emptied myself. I was groaning over and over.
“Yeah, yes,” I moaned as my nut worked out of me. “Just had to take you in daddy’s car even if people might see because you gave me those naughty videos.”
“Mmmmmmm,” she let out a submissive keen.
It was the best orgasm I’d ever had. Waves of perverted pleasure washed over me. I filled up her cunt with my special daddy cream as he needily whined. I fucked back up into her to hear the wet sound of the creampie some more. I was so satisfied. I hoped that was my largest load ever, she deserved it.
“Thank you,” I breathed. I held her close. She was still on my dick. She had wrapped her arms and legs around me. The scene was finished and she was feeling cuddly, needing reassurance after all the nasty things we’d said to one another.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I repeated. I smiled as I rocked her and rubbed her back. She was so perfect to let me act out this desire.
“We’re not bad are we?” She asked in a small Voice.
“No, it didn’t hurt anyone, and we’re two consenting adults, plus, it’s just a kink.”
“Thank you Kyle, I love you,” she promised me. I kissed her temple.
“I love you too.”
@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming
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sehodreams · 1 year ago
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Pathetic people also fall in love
WC: 7.3K (I’m so sorry it feels like with every fic I write more)
S: Eunseok is busy enough with his life, he has an 8-year-old daughter and is overworked at his job, he didn’t need to add another thing to that list, so when he puts the unused room in his house for rent, he expects his life to become easier, not to wonder why his tenant is so hot!
TW and Tags: Singledad!Landlord!Eunseok x Tenant!Plussize!reader, aged up Eunseok for the story, all consensual, mutual pining, smut, p in v, use of condom (poor Eunseok is traumatized after his first daughter), fingering, mentions of dacryphilia, fluff (I think near the end, if you don’t think so please let me know and I’ll erase it from here), they’re just two losers falling in love.
Comment: Hey guys, sorry for not having post much lately, this was actually first a Sungchan fic because an anon asked me for a Singledad!Sungchan, but while writing I thought wth this is my baby Eunseok and changed it. I want to clarify that this is not dark at all, so be careful if you go through my other fics because most of them are, I’m all soft since 119, still hope you like it!
You were the best tenant anyone could ask for, and Eunseok knew that, so why was he acting as if he was desperate to drive you away?
When you moved to the room next to him in his house he had his doubts, you were younger than him, which usually meant problems, like drunk boys out of his house throwing up on his flowers at midnight, or loud music when he tried to work, but he needed the money and the extra help, and when he interviewed you, you were relatively fine, a young girl that moved away for school and was more than eager to help around for a significant discount on her rent.
You were so fresh, a 22 year old student with the character of an older sister, and he liked that, you always paid your rent on time and made cookies on friday night instead of going out, you also took care of his daughter when he needed to go out in an emergency at work, only asking for some food when he came back, so you were a good girl and the best tenant.
He couldn't lie to himself, he liked you a lot, which made him feel pretty much guilty, because you were just a sweet young thing who hadn't discovered how the world worked, while he, even if he was still young at his 27 years, had gone through everything in a rush, from heartbreak to disappointment and frustration, perfectly knowing he shouldn't look at you the way he did.
He had too many responsibilities to let himself be swayed your way, he had an 8 year old daughter, an overworking job and too many things on his shoulders, and your presence had started to bring him problems, especially at night, when he dreamed of fingering you in the kitchen before breakfast to thank you for making his coffee, or you receiving him in the entrance wearing nothing but an apron with flour stains, and after you gave him a taste of your freshly baked cookies, he dropped to his knees to taste something even better.
He dreamed all that and woke up feeling more tired than when he went to sleep, and with a painful boner that wouldn't leave him alone until he came over the bathroom titles when he took his quick morning shower, thinking of you with him there, taking his length like the good girl you were.
He couldn't look at your face when you said good morning, the guilt making him blush to his ears, wishing he could go back in time and not let his impulses win over him, because he was sure you would feel repulsed if you ever found out what he thought about you.
For you, he was just your landlord, the older guy with a daughter that worked in a restaurant and brought you leftover pasta every now and then, nothing more, and he had to come around that.
But you made it so hard, making breakfast with your pajama shorts and the thin t-shirts that showed your beautiful nipples, bending down with that gorgeous ass when you pulled the tray out of the oven, or with the sound of you vibrator that woke him up at 2 am, with your little moans going through his wall and making him gulp before he decided to wait for you to cum to go back to sleep.
He could help you, he thought that every time he heard you, he could walk the five steps to your room and fuck you like you deserved, nasty and rough, telling you how good you acted that day, making his favorite dish for breakfast, or playing with his daughter until he came back home, "Such a good girl, don't you want to be my little wife? Such a sweet thing should cum over a real dick every night".
His cheeks became red, he shouldn't be thinking that, not before work where he could do nothing to soothe the need.
He rushed to the door, with his coffee cup in one hand and his daughter backpack in the other, she was already waiting for him in the entrance when you ran to them, were you going to give him a goodbye kiss? He wished.
"I made too many of them yesterday, take them for lunch" you gave him a paper bag with two muffins, he felt the sweet aroma of them through the bag and his eyes followed your lips when you talked again, "I already put one in her lunchbox, these are just for you".
He wanted to kiss you so bad, he didn't care that your hair was still ruffled from your night, or that you weren't wearing any makeup at all, he thought you looked fucking gorgeous in that moment, and he wanted to kiss you to say thank you, thank you for being so good, thank you for treating his daughter with care, thank you for everything you do for him even when you didn't need to.
"Okay" he said, and left.
"Okay?" Sungchan asked when he arrived at work and told him what he did.
"Okay" Eunseok passed his hand through his hair, exhausted with everything, with his 10-hour shift, his daughter telling him she missed him, and his body not being able to sleep properly because it needed his tenant.
"What an asshole, that sweet thing just gave you two of the best muffins in the world for free, she made your coffee and helped you get your daughter ready for school, and you say 'okay', not even a 'thank you'? Man, if I was her, I'd leave your pathetic ass immediately, doesn't matter how cheap the rent is" he grabbed one of the little pastries and was about to eat it when Eunseok snatched it from his hand.
"Mine" he said and walked away, making Sungchan scoff.
He didn't meant to be so cold, it was like his body was in survival mode, trying to save his feelings from getting hurt before he even got a chance to do something about them, it'd be too uncomfortable if things didn't work out, you were precious for him, and he didn't want to lose you, but if he kept acting like that, he wasn't just going to drive you off, but you'd hate him in the process, and he couldn't deal with the thought of you hating him, not like that.
That night, when he arrived from his shift, he brought pizza and your favorite drink.
He left them in the counter and walked to his daughter's room, the house was in silence, his daughter already sleeping in her bed and after giving her a good night kiss, he searched for you, you were nowhere sight, so you must be in your room, right?
When he knocked no one answered, where could you be?
You came out of the bathroom seconds later, with just a towel wrapping your body, your tits were overflowing from the grip it did to not fall and he couldn't help but watch you from head to toe, your uncovered shoulders, your soft thighs, even your pretty feet with red nail polish.
"Hey Eunseok, you're early today" you proceeded to tell him about what his daughter had for dinner and how she was sleeping already, and that you were waiting for him before you went out. Almost everything got lost in his ear, he was too busy watching your back and the drops falling down your neck.
"I brought pizza" was the only thing he could say.
"Thank you, I'll eat it after I come back" you closed your door before he could say anything more and, not knowing what else to do, walked to his room.
He looked himself in his mirror, his boner was showing in the reflection and his face was red, he really had a problem, so he took care of it while listening your soft voice singing on the other side of the wall, feeling like a pervert when he finished over his hand.
He changed his clothes for something more comfortable and went to the kitchen to eat a slice of pizza before bed, he was tired and even if he came back earlier than normal, his body was exhausted from all the nights without sleeping well.
He was just finishing his portion when you walked down, looking like a fucking angel ready to take him to the afterlife.
You were wearing a white flowy short dress, showing your beautiful curves and the full of your chest through the cleavage that made you look even more angelic.
But where were you going dressed like that? It couldn't possibly be...
Your phone sounded before he could ask and you ran to open the door, a skinny boy with long black hair was there, waiting for you with the worst resting bitch face he had ever seen, so different from your excited ear to ear grin, "Hi Wonbin" you said with your pretty smile, and he only gave an acknowledged nod in response. Asshole, he thought.
He couldn't say anything to stop you from going out, to scream how you were his and how that lanky boy couldn't give you what he could, he wouldn't appreciate you like he already did, because he didn't know how special and amazing you really were.
Eunseok, still in the same place, heard the door close and then a car starting outside, driving away.
He felt fucking pathetic looking at you smile to another man and leaving the house with someone like him, but maybe that little boy was better than him, even if he didn't like the thought, he could be younger than him, and not have a daughter, just a normal boy for his age, without the weight of thinking about the future, because he didn't have anyone who depended on his actions, just himself.
He closed the pizza box and grabbed a beer, such a pathetic loser, he told himself, having the girl he wanted so close and stopping himself from getting her, blaming his circumstances instead of the reality of him being a coward.
The night felt longer than usual, he used to think that nights didn't have enough hours to rest, and now, with you outside, he thought it felt endless.
He just needed you back home, to know where you were, and what you were doing, with him steps away, to know you were safe.
Hours passed and when the eleven-news started and some traffic accident showed on the screen, he heard a car park out of his place, recognizing your steps to the door. When you opened the door he saw you alone, with a sad look and your pretty hair different from when you went out, as if you tried to brush it with your fingers to look put together before you walked in. His blood wanted to boil at the thought of him touching a single strand of your hair, but he was too preoccupied with your face, what could've happened in your date for you to arrive like that? Was he the jerk he appeared to be? He knew that boy didn't deserve you, but at the same time he wished he was wrong.
"Welcome back" Eunseok said, giving you a small smile. You dropped your purse to the floor when you saw him, looking too exhausted to reciprocate the awkward greeting smile. He felt bad for you, you continued with the disappointed air all over you and he didn't know what to do to cheer you up, "there's still pizza in the kitchen".
You denied his offer, walking to the couch he was sitting, letting your body fall on the other side of it, leaving a big space between you.
You watched the news together for a couple of minutes, in total silence. He understood you didn't feel like talking, you went out after such a long time, getting all dolled up with a dress he had never seen you wear before and such uncomfortable shoes. You almost never went out like that, more into comfortable loose clothes, and around the house you never used make up. He still saw you gorgeous though, but Eunseok was different, he thought that when you had your hair up in a ponytail while cooking, or when you left his daughter use her toy makeup on you, and he loved to see you wearing that swimsuit when you played on the child pool with her, your tummy showing through the clothing and your full chest covered with a top that wasn't your size, it couldn't be your size, he swore that because every time you used it your tits were too much for it and the fabric was hanging on for its life over your body, which to be honest, was incredible hot for him.
And you did all that for a boy that couldn't even walk you to your door at the end of the date, he can't imagine what else did he do that night to make you come back home with such a disappointed look.
"How was the date?" He asked and sipped his can of beer, trying to appear nonchalant, like he didn't care, but he was dying to hear about it.
"It wasn't what I expected" you answered while taking off your high heels, he saw a little blister forming on your feet and he wanted to grab them and give them a well-deserved massage, he was dying to do something for you, but he shouldn't, so he did the only thing he thought would comfort you without him touching you, he passed you his beer for you to take a sip, which you did, you grabbed it and drank a big gulp of it, looking a bit more refreshed after, making him feel good with his choice. "He made me pay for the movie tickets" you continued.
Eunseok opened his mouth, not believing what you told him, he knew the boy was going to be a jerk, but to such extent?
"Yeah, I know" you said when you saw his surprised expression, making you laugh but from embarrassment. "I... I didn't know how to say no, we were already in the que, and I thought that maybe it wouldn't be that bad, maybe it was going to be just that and then he'd pay for the popcorn, I-I don't know what I was thinking"
Of course you knew what you were thinking. You didn't go out with him for the movie, you wanted to get laid, and he was the only one who had offered to go out with you after so long, you didn't have another choice.
You weren't an easy girl, you knew you deserved more, but since you had moved to Eunseok's house you felt more and more needy, praying every day for him to not notice how your thighs clenched when he was around you, or how you touched yourself when he took care of his flowers under the sun, the sweaty look of him was too much for you to contain himself, and you had fallen for various reasons, how he always took a few of his precious creations to decorate your room, how he always brought you your favorite pasta when it was on the daily menu of his restaurant, even how he made sure you were always comfortable around him and his daughter.
How could you not fall for a guy like that? So caring and sweet, and you lived with him, it was like torture to have his smell around you, his body, his warmth, and not be embraced by him.
The only reason you accepted to go out with Wonbin was because your friends told you he was going to be a good fuck, but the only nearly good thing that night were his guitarist fingers playing with your pussy during the movie, "for the ticket" he had said, but you honestly would've preferred the money. It felt good for a second, the teasing was hot, and you told yourself it'd get better, but when he took you to his car and to that dark place instead of a nice room and a comfortable bed, fucking you in his backseat and coming after a few thrust, all that after he asked you to give him head, pushing his fingers on your well braided hair, making a mess of it even when you told him you didn't feel like it, everything got boring for him and he drove you home in an uncomfortable silence.
You felt disgusting when he dropped you off and immediately drove away, leaving you there in front of the house, not even checking if you walked in safely.
The only thing you could think while walking those few steps to the house was Eunseok would've never treated me like that.
So, when you opened your door and saw him sitting in the couch, in front of the tv, when he should be asleep after a long work day, waiting for you, you wanted to cry, because he hates the news, and he would never watch them willingly when he could use that time to sleep instead.
You contained yourself and sighed, biting back your lip from quivering and showing how weak you felt at that moment, you were a big girl, and you couldn't cry every time something went wrong.
But you couldn't deny that you were also more vulnerable because of him those days, and how he was pushing you away when you tried to get closer, just that morning, when you gave him those muffins, it hurt you to hear the 'okay' came out of his mouth, it felt like you were being too much for him and he didn't know what to say to your advances anymore, and perhaps that's why those days he seemed in a worse mood, troubled with your presence near him.
When he offered you his beer you feel slightly comforted, how pathetic, you thought, a girl feeling comforted just because the guy who was rejecting her gave her a sip of his beer.
Some pop star was in a dating scandal and you couldn't care less, but you didn't want to leave, you wanted to be with him for more time, as long as he allowed you.
"Did you want to go out with him?" He asked after a couple minutes. You denied with your head.
He finished his beer, so he got up and walked to the kitchen, coming back with two cans and opening one for you, sitting slightly closer this time.
"Then why did you accept?" Some politician was talking about being honest on his campaign, what a bullshit, he would lie, just like you, a normal human being, has being done since you came to that house, acting like you didn't feel anything for Eunseok, and that everything you did was out of your heart, it partly was, but you did it more eagerly because you wanted him to look your way, to maybe see you different, not the young girl that rented the room next to his in his house, and if not an equal partner, at least some kind of comfort from his daily life, something to come back after his tedious routine and that could give him the peace he needed, just like he and his home did for you.
You decided to not lie anymore, if he asked you something, the least you could do was to be honest with yourself and with him, you didn't have long until everything spilled out of the glass already full of your feelings, and it would kill you to move away from him, his daughter, his house, and everything that had become familiar to you those months, but if you were still going to get hurt, you should be honest before everything went to hell.
You drank another big gulp of your beer before talking again, to feel more confident, "I wanted to get laid". He almost choked with his drink, coughing and looking at your direction to try to find out if you were making a really bad joke or you were telling him the truth.
You didn't look at his direction, some festivity was about to start in a few days and the city was getting ready for a festival, it looks pretty, I should go with his daughter before I move out, you thought.
Every day you had contained yourself from going to his arms, kissing his lips and asking for him to pay you attention had come to that, and you had resigned to leaving when he asked you to, because if before he was uncomfortable, now he was going to find you unbearable, and it would kill you to stay and see the place you called home crumble in front of your eyes.
Still, you had never felt so free.
He saw the decision written all over your face, you knew what was going to happen next, and he was afraid of the outcome, of what was going to happen if you ever left him, what would he do without your coffee? Without your laugh filling his house, without the smell of your shampoo all over the room after you took a long shower, or with the way his daughter had started to depend on you for certain questions, just, what would he do without you?
He wanted to come home after his shift to be welcomed by his two favorite girls all over the world, and he was an adult, he would get over it with time, but he didn't want to, he had already compromised with many things, with leaving college, with not going to friend's parties anymore, with only drinking beer once a week, with not being the first place in his life never again, he had already accepted too many things, and you leaving wasn't one of them.
"Well, you didn't have to ask another man when you have me right here" he couldn't process what he said, he just said it, his lips moving before he could think twice. You stared at him taken aback from his words, you expected him to call you dumbass or anything along that, but he was making clear you had permission to see him not like your landlord or just an older guy, but like a man.
Your eyes interlocked and the tension got thicker, both of you were closer without any of you noticing, shoulders touching, and when you moved your face slowly towards him, waiting for him to tell you he didn't mean what he just said, he tenderly grabbed your face and made you kiss him, erasing all distance between you, finally.
Your eyes shut and you kissed softly at first, tasting the lingering bitter flavor of his cheap beer, enjoying every second of it, until you whimpered on his lips, and he, reacting to it, tapped twice with the palm of his hand over one of your thighs, to signal you that he wanted you to be over his lap.
You let your weight fall over him and he loved the way he felt your ass flushing with his knees, his hands roamed all the way from your waist to the softness of your legs and followed the same trail back, addicted to the way your body, even being bigger than normal and nothing like he ever had in the past, felt perfect on his hands, as if you had been designed for him and only him to touch and indulge in.
The hem of your dress had rolled with your movements and his hands didn't help neither, trying to lift it up as much as he could to feel the plump of your ass.
"To the movies with a dress like this one? Tell me the truth, did he finger you with people around? don't you feel any shame?" He asked, making you rock your hips over his boner. You sighed on his neck, not daring to look at him in the face, shame creeping your red cheeks.
"Why do you say that?" You asked curious of his remarks, they were true, but how did he know?
"Because he's no better than me, and I'd have done it too", he made you look at him, one of his hands still over your ass and the other on your jaw, admiring you over him, his glossy eyes were all over your face, from your flushing cheeks to your lips with the mild cherry color of your lipstick that was almost completely removed by his kisses "you're too pretty, no one would be able to resist" he said, lips finding your again, kissing you deeper, wanting to satisfy the part of him that had been screaming for your mouth every day until now, as if it was possible to ever calm it.
You started to blush even more, embracing him with your arms around his neck to kiss him better, and after a couple of seconds, when he let you breath and hide your face on his neck again, licking his lips and still making you bounce with the strength of his hands on your waist, moving you to his liking, his bulge perfectly touching your clit under your panties, you nodded to his past question, Wonbin did finger you, and you did feel shame, but with him, with Eunseok, you were sure you'd have let him take you right there in front of everyone and you'd have said thank you when he finished with you.
"I'm sure he fucked you, did he fuck you in his car? He doesn't look like the kind of boy who takes you to a nice room to give you what you deserve, I'm sure you couldn't even cum once with him, this sweet thing needs to be taken care of by someone who can handle it, someone like me" he whispered that to your ear, biting back his groans and making fun of you trying to hide your soft moans, adding to that the way you nodded to everything he said, he felt exhilarating, wanting to tease you even more, wondering what would happen, would you cry for him to stop? Or even better, would you cry for him to not stop?
The thought did things in him, and as a result, his thumb touched your pussy over the fabric of your panties, fumbling around it to feel how wet you were getting, making you moan louder than you expected, sensitive after being teased before but not finding the satisfaction you needed.
You supposed it was that, how Wonbin played with your pussy just hours before, you didn't think it was probably from all you went through for months, hiding the way you needed him, or how you played with yourself thinking of him behind your door, everything accumulating and being too much for you in this moment, the cathartic minute in which you finally were feeling his body against you, his aroma as close as you begged past nights, and his hands prying the place that suffered his absence the most.
"It hurts" you cried, begging for him to touch you directly with his hands. The air in the room was hotter and your untouched skin was burning. Your hips moved perfectly over him and he imagined himself making you lie on the couch to fuck you until you screamed, he was in pain too to be honest, too many nights needing you almost made him weak, but he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could, in case it was the only night he'd have the privilege of having you, to never forget you in case what you had decided for tomorrow didn't include him.
He kissed you again, he couldn't take you there, on his ugly old couch, he had to take you properly, like you should be treated, "I know baby, I know" he said, eyebrows frowning and breath hitching from getting closer to his orgasm, he had been too painfully untouched and sure you were the same, asking for each other at midnight, each of you in their own rooms, praying for the other to do something about their desire, "let's go to my room, okay? I know you can do it for me, I need to touch you more, and for you to be comfortable in every moment of it, my precious baby"
You wanted to tear up of how good he talked to you, giving and asking for compassion at the same time. For him, you had earned the right to be treated like that, to demand it from him, working hard and giving parts of you he didn't ask for and hadn't realized he needed until you came into the picture of his dull and exhausting life, making it brighter and more bearable every day you spent together.
You didn't want to move, so close of your first orgasm over his lap, but he clapped his hand over your thighs, telling you to move away from him "come on angel, I know you're a good girl, you heard me, let's go" you were a good girl, his good girl, so with the pain of your heart, and your clit, you moved out of his lap, letting him drag you by the hand to his room. The path was short, just the staircase and a couple steps to his room, but the way he was showing you his back, making you walk as fast as him to get to his bed, made your pussy throb. This was happening, really happening, and you smiled feeling content.
When both of you arrived to his room, a secret place you had never been able to set a foot in before, door always closed, you sensed the last line between you both blurring, because nothing, not even an earthquake, would make you get out of his bed tonight, you'd receive everything you had been yearning for, and you'd be grateful at the end, in case he only accepted you one time.
He kissed you again against his door, making you stand on your tip toes to meet his mouth. Your chest was touching his and you were dying for them to touch directly, without any fabric stopping your nipples from feeling his hard chest, even if he didn't train that much anymore, you had seen him come back sweating after a morning jog every sunday, waking up at 6 AM to come back with your favorite bread freshly baked.
While kissing he made you walk back to the bed, pushing you over it and taking off his shirt to then go back to his duty over you.
His mouth couldn't leave you alone, and groping everything he could with his hands and rutting his erection over your pussy, he made sure your lips, and your tongue, were focused on him.
"Please, I need more" you told him, tired of not feeling him on your skin.
He didn't answer you, two of his fingers found your clothed pussy and pressed your underwear, sensing how wet you were under his fingers, a big warm spot was formed, and he decided to not tease you anymore over it. His palm went under your panties, and if over your panties he felt you wet, now you were dripping. His hand was quickly covered on your juices immediately, making him groan, how could he tease his baby so much when she was suffering like that?
"Fuck, I’m sorry angel", two of his fingers found your hole and started to play with you, fucking you without problem because of how wet you were, and you received him like all the time, making him feel welcome with your warmth.
Your body was shaking under him, hands on his chest touching his skin, trying to grasp as much of him as you could, slightly pushing him away of how good he was working you with just with his fingers, but without the force to actually do it, it was just your body reacting to him, because you really wanted him to be closer.
"Wait-" strangled words wanted to come out of your mouth, he was so good with his hands your eyelids were fluttering and the only think you could see in the dark room, with the little light coming through his curtains, was his grin watching your pussy take his fingers, and his arm making that possible.
Two fingers became three and his hand started to fuck you more, like trying to find something inside you, fingers in and out on scissoring movements, until you started to cry louder and leak over his hand, making him feel proud of his work, "that's right baby, come on, cum all over my hand".
You had your first orgasm, making a mess on his hand and your panties, it was uncomfortable to keep wearing them, wet and sticking to you, so he took them off, making you lift your legs to take them. You didn't know if he could see you in that darkness, but he could, your pussy glistening was impossible to ignore, and the image in front of him was everything he had been dreaming of for months.
He took of your dress too, enjoying the view even more, you weren't wearing a bra, and your tits jumped in front of him, gravity making them fall a bit to each side of how big they were, so fucking hot.
His mouth went to your little buds, tongue flicking over one and grabbing the other, and exchanging the work between each of them after he thought it was enough attention to one. They were so soft under his hand, skin overflowing his grip and making him think maybe I should die here, because there was no place more comfortable than there over your beautiful chest.
"Eunseok, please don't tease me" You cried under him, you had watched him so concentrated on your chest you didn't want to distract him, but the pain on your pussy was becoming too much for you, and you were still leaking all over his grey sweatpants.
"Such a crybaby" He smiled, pulling down his sweatpants and his boxers, just enough to free his cock and put the condom he had on his nightstand, he wanted to fuck you, but he had already learnt his lesson, he wanted to take care of you for a long time, to fuck you many more times. He slapped your pretty cunt with his length, enjoying your little jolts. "Sorry, it's because you're the prettiest girl, I couldn't contain myself" he said, pushing his dick over you, simulating the way his cock was going to fuck you in just a second, you opening your legs even more without you intending to, all so he could be closer to you "I'll give you what you want, don't worry" he kissed your forehead to take your attention away from the tip of his dick sliding through your hole, but it was so long he still had you squirming under him, even with all the preparation, you felt him stretching you like no one had done before, "You're dripping all over my bed, it's because of me or him?" He asked after his cock made a wet sound when he finished pushing it into you.
"Uh?" You couldn't process his words, too lost into the sensation of his cock inside you, fucking your guts, so deed the only thing that went through your mind was fuck me, fuck me.
"Who made you like this, me or him?" He repeated his question and you realized who he was talking about, Wonbin, and even if he had fucked you, he was nowhere near Eunseok.
"You, Eunseok, just you" you cried, his hips had stopped for a second to hear your answer, and when he heard the desperation on your voice, he understood you weren't telling him just what he wanted to hear, but the truth. Your nails started to mark his back and he, because of the intensity of the moment, didn't feel it, too concentrated on the sensation of your walls accepting him so easily, something uncommon for him since his length was bigger than normal, but of course his little angel would do it without problem, you were made for him, and he had no intention of ever sharing you again.
His hips moved again, pulling as far as he could to dive all in, making your tears drop one by one of how good you were feeling, you felt high, like touching the sky, and with each trust he took you back to earth, to that room, demonstrating you how the only thing you needed to feel complete was him.
Your heart was racing, you could hear it beating on your ears, but you didn't know what was that you were hearing, his cock making you ignore anything else that wasn't him and his groans.
"Fuck, so tight, has no one been taking care of you since you came here? I'm sure your little toy doesn't compare" he asked and the rhythm of his hips increased, his cock pushing deeper with each thrust. "Were you thinking of me when you used it? Did you want me to hear it so I could go to your room and fuck you?" You shook your head, you used it because you were too horny after spending time with him, and just the image of him coming back home with his white shirt and his ruffled hair made you crazy, he always looked so stressed you had to resist the temptation of dropping to your knees to suck his cock when he told you your daily good night, your mind only repeated I'm here, please use me!, and without being able to receive anything from him, you had to rely on your toy.
You wanted to talk and tell him everything, but no coherent sound came out of your mouth, your insides were being so fucked any function in your mind had shut down, focusing only on your pussy and the pleasure he was giving you.
You couldn't talk and that frustrated you, making multiple tears fall down your cheeks, sobbing at this point. Your hands didn't want to let him go and you tried to hug him and get him closer to you, but you were crying so loud he had to stop to check on you one second, to make sure you were okay.
He looked at you worried "what's wrong baby? Am I being too much?" He caressed your cheek with his thumb and cleaned the strand of tears.
You denied, focusing all your mind into talking again "feels so good, please don't stop". He stared at you for a long time, appreciating your face and your body, trying to get all into his memory to never forget how beautiful you looked at that moment, crying for him and his cock, begging for him to not stop.
He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't fuck you again, if before he was deep into you, now he was in a place that had no escape.
You moved your body under him, trying to get the same feeling from seconds ago, making you forget everything again, making you forget who he was, who you were, and what would happen after you both finished.
"You have no idea of how much I fucking like you" you wanted to say me too when he talked, but his hips had started to work you again and you could only moan loudly when you tried to talk, so you decided to bite your lip to stop being too noisy instead. "I'm sorry baby, I know you want to be loud, but we'll get in trouble" you nodded, understanding why he said that. He put his hand over your mouth and kissed your temple while fucking you, pushing you to the same abyss he was in, needing more of your juices to make a mess over his bedsheets, to let your smell linger around him for more time.
The way he was looking at you was something you'll never be able to forget, something you had never seen before, no one, in all your life, had stared at you with such intensity, full of need and possession, like screaming mine, mine, mine, and you couldn't correct him, he was right, you were his.
Your walls clenched around him and he let your mouth free to kiss you again, his tongue had intruded into your mouth, stealing the little air you had and making you even more dizzy, mind scattered all around the room like your clothes, pushing his dick in a more erratic way, not calculating so much how and what to push, just feeling.
"I'm so close, cum with me angel, fuck" his hips were practically punching yours, making the sound of both skins clapping so dirty you felt yourself tightening just with it. You nodded, both of his arms were on each side of your head and your hands held onto them, trying to not fall wherever you felt you were about to, as if he was going to push you, with him, into some state of clarity you had never experienced before.
He did push you into something new, the orgasm was so hard you lost yourself for a second, mind becoming black and eyes rolling for a long moment, your heart and breath completely stopping and toes curling into the bed, feeling his cock throb inside you while some liquid leaked out of your used pussy.
He brought you back to reality with soft kisses. His hair was sweating over your forehead, and you felt his skin sticky against yours, but you felt complete, after so much time, you were where you should be, in his room, on his bed, with him and only him.
He let his body fall over yours, squishing you with his size, his cock was still inside you, and you didn't want him to move, he could stay like that all night if he wanted, you'd never ask him to move.
Sadly, he moved apart minutes later, when both of you had regained their breaths and your hand was caressing his broad back. He lifted himself, still between your legs, pulling his dick out of you to remove the condom, making you whimper a protest. He laughed quietly, looking down at you, such a needy baby.
He walked out of the room and you started to get doubtful, was he going to regret everything you had done? You loved every second of it, you didn't want to be apart from him ever again, but maybe... Maybe he just needed some release.
Your eyes started to get wet, you always thought you would be satisfied with one time, but you became greedy after feeling his touch, and one time would never be enough again.
He came back minutes after, you heard his steps, but you didn't turn back to him, afraid of what he would tell you.
"Angel, I brought you your tea, have some before you sleep" he touched your shoulder and made you look at him, when you did, he gave you the softest smile and moved a strand of your hair out of your face. You wanted to cry again, touched by his treatment.
You drank some of it, still fresh and cold, while he cleaned you with a wet towel between your legs, so you could sleep more comfortable.
Then, when you gave him the cup, he tossed the used towel away, and, after leaving your cup over a couple of his gardening magazines on his nightstand, he made you cover yourself under his bedsheet, lying next to you, accepting your hug into his arms and giving you a goodnight kiss on your forehead, erasing all doubts from your head, because he'd never be able to give up on his little angel again.
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goldblumluv · 1 month ago
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FIRST TIME HUGH REALISES HE IS ATTRACTED TO YOU
I’ve just finished Flawless and I just love a cowboy romance and a lot of what I’ve read it is grumpy x sunshine. This isn’t a cowboy Hugh story but I like the idea of like a forbidden romance / he shouldn’t like you (but he does) but he kind of acts out to pretend he doesn’t like you.
tags: female reader. Hugh’s POV. Angst. Slow burn. Confusion. Some fluff.
w/c: 4.5k
summary: you are a makeup artist on set of deadpool and wolverine. you’ve actually managed to get assistant head of makeup so you’re quite high up and you do work a lot on Hugh (and a little on Ryan) - instead of extras etc. you’re one month in so you’ve started to build a work relationship with Hugh but it’s starting to get flirtatious and the next level. Hughs POV (I love when books do this)
“More lube” Shawn shouts. She comes running over with a bottle in hand. I can see her cheeks flush pink as she touches me and her breaths become deeper. I must admit I didn’t take my eyes off her as she rubbed across my chest and down my stomach. Luckily, everyone is moving equipment to get ready for this scene, so it feels like it’s just us. She doesn’t even look at me once, so I know she’s avoiding my eye contact. She acts so confident back in the trailer but seeing how innocent she is right now is driving me crazy. Has she not touched a lot of men before? Why is she shying away? When she finishes she playfully slaps me right on the chest, but is giving me the eyes. “All done” she says with a devilish smile. Her back is turned before I could say something; she is giving Shawn the thumbs up to let her know she’s ready so I also throw up a thumbs up. I check her out one last time. As times got on her makeup has got less and her hair is a bit more carefree, and she’s only more beautiful for it. Plus it makes me feel good she’s obviously feeling more relaxed and comfortable. However today she is wearing a tight top plus tight jeans, which only highlight the curves of her body. I change the direction of my gaze quickly because I can feel an erection growing.
After filming, we go back to the trailer. I hardly speak to her. I don’t want to. This is the first time it’s gone from puppy love to Oh, I want to have sex with you. I want to see what you look like naked. And I can’t be having these thoughts for oh so many reasons. We work together. She is younger than half my age. My divorce hasn’t even gone public yet. Can you imagine I’m seen with a 25 year old before the divorce has gotten public? We start walking together whilst she’s telling me how good the shooting went, asking if I hurt. She’s caring and reassuring. She quickly gets out of her phone and picks up her pace whilst I stay trailing behind. Part of me knows she’s doing it cause she feels awkward at my lack of response but her walking ahead, is not helping my cause right now. It’s just us in the trailer. It’s the end of the shoot, so she’s just taking everything off me. The dirt, the lube, the eyebrow gel that colours in the greys in my beard that are probably… no… are older than her. She steps back, “what’s up? you’re being off” “I’m just tired” “hm” She carries on her job. I’m lying through my teeth. The radio is filling the silence between us. I can tell from that murmur she’s defensive straight away, not believing me. “Do you want to get food?” I feel my dick twitch. Is she asking me out? “I think I’m just going go back to the hotel” She is asking me out and I deny her which I hate. “You might feel better if you eat” persuasive. “Honestly I’ll be better tomorrow, I’ve just hit my wall”
I usually help her tidy up at the end of the day. I still do this. If I don’t I know she will be on my back, hurt, upset or confused. “You can go, if you want, I don’t mind” “No it’s fine, you’ll be able to leave quicker if I help” Even though I do have a crush on her like a 16 year old boy that’s just got his first dose of testosterone, I am still 56 and need to act like it. I know how she organises everything. We leave together. We’re staying in the same hotel but how you imagine, me and Ryan and Shawn are up top whilst she’s lower down. Which I believe isn’t fair. I don’t need the biggest room. We take the elevator and when it reaches her floor she fist bumps me, almost like she’s a 16 year old boy as well. I wonder if she feels the same? How do you know? How you do know especially when the girl very obviously does not know how to talk to men?
After a few hours she texts me. This is normal routine again. It won’t be a full conversation, considering we see each other in person nearly every day, so you might as well save the conversation for in person. It’s usually along the lines of she’s listening to a song I’ve recommended or a film I’ve spoke about. And to be honest, I do the same back. I really want to know what inspires her. She texts me a photo of her out for dinner, with a man’s hands. I immediately heat up with jealousy. Who the fuck is that? I’m trying to think of seeing her day to day speaking to any men, there’s a couple on her team. She speaks to Ryan and Shawn. I know she’s spoken to lighting and cinematography and the camera men when she’s asking for their opinions on how it looks. But does she really spend a lot of time talking to a man? That’s not me? No. And we are shooting in England, but she said she’s so far from her hometown and she has no one this way. I want to bite and ask her, but the more that this is entertained the deeper and worse it’ll be. So I don’t.
I start to fist my dick to the thought of her. My plan today is not working, at all. After I finish, I just think about this guy. Which ruins the mood completely. Part of me wants to tell Ryan, but not yet. Especially in the middle of shooting. I don’t want Ryan to also be awkward around her.
The next couple of days are well… awkward. I don’t know what to do. You know the last time I was in this situation? Never. You know last time I was getting feelings for someone? Over 30 years ago. At first, I’m met with a lot of “you’re quiet” which feels like her prodding and asking what’s going on, without saying it. “I don’t like it” she says outright. Yeah, me neither. She doesn’t let my grunts deter her for a while. She could possibly have a conversation with herself I’ve discovered. I found out the guy she went to food with was someone on lighting. Closer to her age. I’ve seen them speak a couple of times and didn’t think anything of it. I thought she was giving her opinion and asking for his. Now there’s another guy in the mix? Jesus Christ. But luckily she blurts out she doesn’t like him, and she’s just someone she’s found as a friend but she doesn’t know if he feels like that. Which eases me a bit, but not entirely. I don’t want him here at all. “Was it a date?” That might be the first full question I’ve muttered and I can see the slight eyebrow raise of shock. “I didn’t think so. We were just texting about food and he asked if we should go get some and I thought I’m hungry so why not. But I didn’t put any effort in. And we went back afterwards. I don’t know if he put effort in” Right, so if I got over myself, that could’ve been us. Whether we went out for greasy food and ordered greasy food to us, I had the invite first.
Tensions are high. She’s meeting my passive aggression with…. Passive aggression. She really does give out the energy she gets. I wish she understood this was for the better. Times of walking to set together is now met with excuses for “I’ll meet you there” and on breaks she finds some of her team to sit with. One day Ryan asks where I’m going and I reply I’m going eat in my trailer. Like that was the plan all along. He looks concerned but lets me do it. How have I messed this up. I sit and eat and just think about how I’ve built up this relationship and pushed her out.
One day she was sitting with Luke- this lighting guy on break. I don’t say anything but I ping with jealousy. At the end of the shoot, I don’t tidy up with her. “Aren’t you helping today?” She asks. “Ask Luke” I say as I walk out. I see her eyebrows furrow as I walk out. “Where’s Georgia” Ryan asks. “She’s got a lot on” “You’re being weird” “I’m not” I say avoiding eye contact. “You won’t even look at me?” “Can we eat in your room” Ryan pulls the same face as her. Trust me to fall for a girl that absolutely mirrors my best mate. “Okay” is all he musters as we get in the same car for once.
“I’ve got myself in a situation and I think I’ve done something I might regret” Ryan nods but his face tells me he’s anxious. “I’ve gotten attached to someone” “Blake?” Ryan asks almost instinctively. “No you fucking idiot. Actually Blake might’ve been socially better” I laugh. “Is it y/n?” Ryan teases. I drop my mouth. “How do you know?” “Who doesn’t know?” I repeat the question back to him in shock. Do people know? “We have eyes… that can see… you two attached at the hip to one another… I know she works with the you the closest but taking breaks together and walking together all the time is not part of the job description” I put my hand on my head and do an exasperated sigh. “Why couldn’t we be friends?” “Hugh… me and you are friends… I don’t see you moping when I need to have a meeting with Shawn so we can’t eat dinner together” I cover my face. I thought it was hidden well. “This can’t be happening” Ryan looks smug in my negative emotions. “Do I think it’s weird? Yes. You could be her dad. But you aren’t and it’s legal. But these really exceptional circumstances. You’re together nearly every day, of course you’re going to get feelings or whatever you called it.” “Do you think it’s wrong she is staff and I’m an actor?” “Do YOU think there is? Because I think there would be more of a power imbalance if this was someone off the street. You’re always going to be seen as a higher power cause you’re Hugh Jackman, but she’s put in so much work to be here. Let her be her own person.” “Why are you encouraging it?” “Because I get to watch you like a lovesick puppy even if you don’t realise what you’re doing so I think you should stop caring what other people might think- if it feels right you should try” “my divorce isn’t finalised yet” “I’m not telling you to marry her, oh my god. *I smile* I’m just saying if you like her.. be more intentional with her” “I think I’ve fucked up anyway” Ryan groans “why?” “I saw her with someone else and got jealous and made a comment” “I KNEW SOMETHING HAS BEEN UP WITH YOU” “I’ve been a prick to her the past week or so and I know I have but I don’t know what to do” “that’s not very nicest man alive of you” that makes me roll my eyes. “She started to give me a boner and that’s a line too far so I wanted to distance myself.” Ryan giggles like a little girl. “So you had a tantrum?” “Not at first, I’ve just stopped talking to her so much so she’s made excuses to not be with me on set. Instead she’s been with Luke. I usually help her clean up and we leave together but instead I start to leave and she asked what I was doing, and I told her to ask Luke to help her.” Ryan’s face flattens. “Why are you acting like that?” “Cause I don’t know what to do” “APOLOGISE” I groan. “I know” We go back to eating in silence. “Just don’t bring any shit onto my film” I salute.
The next day in work, it isn’t even icy. It’s worse. She’s totally professional with me. She never wasn’t in the first place, but we have no general conversation. Whether it’s in front of the team or when we’re alone. It’s only “look down” “look up” “twist your neck for me.” All work related. Who knew I’d crave a conversation about your weirdest dreams or something more ridiculous. When we’re alone I try to address it. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She looks me dead in the eye. “Okay” “that’s it?” “What do you want me say?” “Don’t you want to know why I said it?” She holds her hands up “your business is your business” Suddenly she’s gone from asking me all these questions and feeling like a safe space to nothing. That comment hurts the most. It’s gone from being a team to nothing. Someone knocks asking if I’m ready. “You should go” she says. I would almost prefer her to be pissed at me. Make a scene. Cause this only makes me doubt she doesn’t feel anything to me. “Are you going see him later?” I ask. “No?” She replies like I’ve asked her the most stupid question. “I told you it’s just friends, if you think something else that’s on you” “are we friends?” “That’s also on you” She’s being too easy. “So we need talk about it” “You need get to set” “aren’t you coming?” “Nope” she smiles. I groan. It makes her laugh. “Go” I do as told.
The next few days are the same. Only work talk. “I feel like I need explain” “You don’t” “can I… for my peace?” Ryan would rip into me if he heard me like this. Even I smile at how I’m pleading. “Not at work” “Will you meet me at my room?” “You want speak to me… you come to my room. Also you haven’t even apologised for being rude yet.” I touch her arm, and she lets me. She always gives me physical touch; not sexual but I’ve noticed when she’s trying to be genuine and reassuring she does gently touch you, and I know she would like that back. It brings her to attention. “I’m sorry” she winces “it’s a start” I’m so happy she’s not completely righting me off. We’ve had a conversation before how she finds it easy to de attach herself and doesn’t give second chances. I know I’ve still got a foot in here, and I know I really need to make it up for her. I think… I know how I acted would’ve hurt her worse than what I said, over the fact I’m jealous.
I haven’t seen her for a couple hours. I actually go try to find her. I’m walking up and down trailers. Shawn asks what I’m doing and I just smile at him dumbstruck, and he gives me a knowing smile back. “Good luck” Oh I’m not used to this at all. This is scary. I can hear shouting from the editing. Y/N storms out shaking. I grab her elbow to stop her, so she has to speak to me. “What happened?” “He’s a stupid fucking cunt” She grabs her arm back. I walk in the trailer. Before I even say anything “Tell your child bride that she doesn’t know better than people that have trained in this” I walk out instinctively. I was going to ask him calmly what has happened. I feel sorry for her, she does love to talk to people. She’s soft. But I also know sometimes she gives unwarranted opinions, even if it’s delivered in a lovely way, and some of the 40 year old men do not appreciate it. I’m shaking. First of all, to reduce her like that? Ridiculous. You don’t speak to anyone like that. Especially, even if this is old fashioned, you don’t scream and shout at a woman and one younger than you at that. I go find Shawn and Ryan and they fire him on the spot. I feel small, telling Shawn and Ryan about this, but it’s not my film. I don’t have that power. But they do it, no trying to compromise, which I appreciate. “Tell her we’ve sorted it and we won’t let anyone be bullied” I go straight to the makeup trailer. It’s locked. I know she’s in there. I knock and no reply. “It’s me”
She opens up. I just pull her into a hug. She kind of resists at first; not putting her arms around me. But she does after an initial second; sink into me. “He’s gone” “what do you mean?” “He’s fired” She lifts her head to look at me. She’s been crying but has stopped by the time I got here. Her eyes are glassy. There’s a quick flash of annoyance but she blinks it back, “thank you” I can tell she’s trying. I know part of her wants to know why I did that; the same part that struggles to let someone help her. But she’s let me help. I’ll make sure to bring this up later. She puts her head back on my chest and I’m sure she can hear how fast my heart is pounding. “Do you want to go home?” “Not really but I can’t lie my heart isn’t in it today” “go home” she looks back up confused “who will do the work?” “Give me the numbers of people on your team and I’ll sort it.” “Also who made you boss?” She smiles. “I’m not the boss but it’s a perk when I’m best friends with them” She’s thinking of a response “you don’t need to carry the world on your shoulders” “okay” she grabs her personal items after sorting out her cover. “Do you want to go to my room?” She pulls her face and laughs. “No” “you don’t want to relax in a big bed and a big bath?” “I do” She looks at me deep in the eyes. Trying to read me. I just hold my key out. We’re both looking at each and smiling for about… 3 seconds.. but it feels like forever. I also think sex would be less intimate than this. She’s looking right into my bones, trying to read me. I am reading her. I know her better than she thinks. I don’t think she’s ever had someone she can rely on, and I want to do that for her. I think her confidence is almost a facade, or an aid, for how much she’s done alone and I think she’s never really had someone she can trust. That’s why she can detach herself easily. That’s why I saw a flash of anger at me getting involved. But I can see she’s trying to give me a chance. And I ruined it the other day by having a tantrum. I don’t want to be another person she pulls down her walls for and then has to put them back up. When she takes my keys, I let out of a breath of relief. I know I still have more work to do.
I text her to let her know I’m on my way. Ryan asks how she is. “She’s okay I think, I’ve let her in my room” He teasingly slaps my chest, knowing what he’s implying. I smile. “No, well I wish, but not after today.” “So are we not acting like 16 year olds anymore” “No” I deadpan. I knock on and I can hear her unlock. Her hair is natural. No makeup whatsoever. In a robe. She looks angelic. Then I start to think what’s under the robe. I let out a deep breath. “Have you got clothes on under that” I cringe as I say it. She throws her head back and opens her robe. She’s in pyjamas. A long t shirt and shorts. Not form fitting but my eyes trail up her legs” “don’t worry- you told me to relax so I am” She starts to walk off and I follow. “This room is lovely” “it is but it’s not necessary” she doesn’t say anything. I get on the bed and she follows. “I’m sorry for acting how I did, I let my jealousy get the better of me” “didn’t know you’d have feelings at your age?” I smile “yes, your heart doesn’t stop” I can tell she feels better in herself with these smart ass comments. “What are you jealous of?” She asks smugly. Knowingly. I stutter on my words. “You said you wanted talk about it.” “I have a crush on you” There’s painful silence. I’m looking at her with yearning in my eyes. I end up covering my face, exasperated by her silence. “I’m too old to feel like this I know” She does an evil laugh. “Is that why you’re jealous? Of him?” I nod. “I’ve told you we’re just friends” “I know but you look happy together” “God forbid” she jokes. “Come on you’re meant to be listening right now” “I am!” “Also he’s good looking, age appropriate, why would you not like him?” She gets a serious look on her face. “I feel a way for you too” I think I sit up slightly too eager. “- but I don’t appreciate how you acted at all. Especially at your age. That wasn’t okay. Even if you didn’t want to help, I didn’t like the walking out on me with a snide comment. You need to speak to me.” I salute. “I know and I’m sorry, I knew that would’ve hurt the most. I won’t do it again. I think how I handled it was to be honest, based a lot on I don’t understand what I’m feeling and I didn’t know how you felt so it really won’t happen again” “do you feel better knowing I feel the same?” I lie back on the bed. My back hurts. “I feel more comfortable and confident now to not be a prick”
I open my arms to a hug. She sinks into me. It feels natural. Also I’m realising we’re cuddling on a bed. I’m controlling my dick. Think of ugly sad things Hugh. Who knew at this age I’m still ready to go. But not today. My hands are under MY robe that’s she’s wearing, rubbing up and down her back. Starting to feel the gentle curve of her ass and where her breasts are pushed slightly out. “I hated not speaking to you” “I didn’t like it either and I can tell you how sorry I am” her confession makes my heart flutter. “If it helps I don’t really know what I’m doing either- I’m not very good at being with someone… or even getting close to that” “I don’t understand why” “Uhm….. this is a conversation for another time… but I don’t think a lot of people are attracted to me” It hurts she doesn’t see how attractive she is. “I don’t really ooze sexiness” she says looking at me with the same eyes I would love to see in between my legs. “I’m awkward and I’m not funny- people my age just want to have sex and I want a relationship where they’re my best friend” “all these reasons make you special to me” “do I say thank you?” We both laugh. “I don’t know” “what happens now?” “Well Ryan has said we can’t bring shit back onto the film set so we just carry on as we were” this whole conversation she was on my chest, which made this slightly easier. She suddenly sit up on her hands “what does Ryan know?” “Will you be mad?” “No…” she leaves a pause. “Well I told him everything… well my side. That I’m getting feelings for you and I don’t know what to do so I’ve acted out” “what did he say?” “Everyone knows anyway” “Whaaaaaat!” “Yeah apparently we’re not very good at hiding how we feel.” “Well I thought I knew how you felt but then you didn’t speak to me for a week so I thought you were confusing” “I had no idea how you felt until you blushed when touching my stomach” she goes back down to cover her face. “Don’t tell me anymore” I cackle. Y/N admits she’s not used to this and I need to be patient with her. “You need be patient with me. I don’t know what I’m doing. God, ignoring the circumstances of this, my divorce isn’t even final, that’s a whole seperate ballpark. What if someone sees us? I don’t think we should set any times or goals or anything but now it might be easier.” “I didn’t even think about paparazzi or that side.” The tension is the air is thick. I act like nearly 60 year old man I am. “We don’t have to think that far yet though, you might be sick of me by then. We should just enjoy it for what it is right now” She goes to say something and stops herself “Okay sir” This makes me grab at her but I quickly stop. That’s not what a polite gentleman would do. “What were you going say?” “You might decide you don’t want me” “Spending nearly all week with someone, you get to know them quickly and decide how you feel about them and I don’t think I’ll decide that.” She lifts her head back up. Reading my face. She goes back down. “Okay” we stay like this for a while. “Do you want me to go?” I tap her so she sits up. “No, stay.”
We get up and order greasy food. We lie back on the bed full. “Wait… you shouldn’t have had that” “it’s okay I’ll go harder at the gym” She laughs. We’re watching a quiz show. “What happened earlier?” I ask. I was looking at scales and I noticed an error. A genuine error. I tried to tell them but I suppose they were stressed and bit my head off. So I bit his head off.” “If I didn’t get involved, what would you have done?” She shrugs “nothing” “I know it’s hard for you but I never want you go through anything alone, especially not anything like that. I’m here to help” She registers my face. “Okay” She then snuggles up to me. With every touch and comment that is slightly more vulnerable, I feel pride. Like I’ve accomplished something. I know it’ll be a long journey but I’m happy she is seeing me as a person she can trust. She doesn’t have to carry everything alone.
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agavekitten · 1 year ago
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Summary - You're Abby's Favorite Daycare Attendent!
Pairing - Mike Schmidt x Fem! Reader
Warnings- All fluff!
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Every day felt the same, gray, uncomfortable and cold. Nothing seemed to bring the warmth like it used to. Even getting out of bed feels like a chore. I rubbed my eyes, staring into the darkness of the room around me. The soft blankets coddled around me were the only things keeping me from feeling the light cold air around me. I could only let out a sigh as I thought about the day ahead of me. The same old same old, wake up, work, clean then sleep. Over and over again until I could feel nothing. 
Today was one of those days, where I felt nothing. I didn't even notice that I got out of bed and had already gotten dressed. It was like a blur, like everything around me is simply a picture and none of it is real. It’s almost nice to think of it like that - a picture. It makes the things around you more interesting, a painting can be anything you interpret it as. It can be beautiful with every stroke of the paint having meaning and purpose. Or, there is the other interpretation, the one that makes the world look sad and unappealing with bland colors and concepts. But, I didn't like to think of it that way. If I'm going to live in my own fantasy world and believe that the world is a painting, it's going to be a happy colorful one damn it. 
I stepped out of the room and made my way to the bathroom, god I looked terrible. My hair looked like a bird just laid eggs in it and my face was swollen from the night's rest. I’ve always been hypocritical about how I looked, but today it was just a joke. Did my look matter that much? Not really in the grand scheme of things but to me it was important. I work at a daycare and the thought of a parent thinking I looked like a bum on the street and questioning if I had good hygiene made me want to throw up. I spent the first hour and a half trying to make myself look better. I finally felt like a person again as I put my hair up. I gave myself a small smile in the mirror and it immediately fell.
*buzz buzz* 
I looked down at my phone and saw the time, shit. I was late to work, again. I never woke up early to get ready and make myself feel like a person again. Now that I think about it, that's a bit of a problem. I went to the front door and grabbed my bag then rushed out the door. My job was the one thing that I really truly loved. Seeing the kids' faces light up when I enter the room and rush over to me to ask to play with them was always a highlight. It made me feel like my life did have purpose. All these kids relied on me while their parents worked or had a day to themselves, I’ve even become quite attached to a few of them. There was one kid that I look forward to seeing everyday, her name was Abby. She always had a smile on her face when she saw me grabbing my shirt practically begging if we could draw together. I would always spend most of my time drawing and playing games with her while the other daycare attendants played with the other kids. Abby didn't have a lot of friends and besides with you, she was often really quiet. I smiled at the thought of seeing Abby today. She should already be there by the time I walk through the daycare door. 
And just as I suspected, when I came through the door, there she was. A big smile on her face, her hair curled slightly and she had on a pair of cute overalls. “Hey Abbs!” I gave her a soft smile and opened my arms. She came running over and gave me a huge squeeze. “I thought you weren't going to be here today, I got sad.” Abby said, looking up at me with her large doe eyes. I moved my hand to her head, messing up her hair a bit. “You know I don't miss a day kiddo.” She giggled in response, “come draw with me Y/N! I've been waiting all morning! I have an amazing idea of what kind of cats we can draw today” Abby dragged you over to the table with all the art supplies spewed about. That was Abby and I’s thing, drawing cats in different scenarios. You know pirate cats, president cats, the whole works. “What were you thinking?” I sat next to her and smiled. She made a small drumroll on the table with her fingers. “....zombie cats.” We both went silent as we looked at eachother then let out a small giggle. “Zombie cats it is then.” We spent that afternoon drawing zombie cats in different scenarios, zombie cats in the grocery store, getting hair cuts, driving cars and my personal favorite two zombie cats that were dressed like Abby and I. 
“Y/N?” Abby put her green crayon down. 
“Yes Abby?”
“You should meet my brother, he would like you.” Abby had the most serious look on her face and I giggled. “Really? Now why's that?” 
“Well I like you and you're my friend so why wouldn't he like you.” She picked her crayon back up and continued to draw, “he likes all my friends.”
 “He seems like a very nice Abby, I would love to meet him.” I gave her a soft smile.
“Abby?”
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This is my first fanfic so please be gentle….
yes there will be a part 2!!!
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delulu4dean · 1 year ago
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“Withdrawals”
Warnings: suicide, depression, anxiety
Pairings: Dean Winchester x sister!reader, Sam Winchester x sister!reader
Prompt: withdrawal from Cymbalta. Based on my own experience
Word Count: 3,624
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You are all packed up to go with your older brothers. They were going all the way to the Redwood Forest, and you didn’t want to be in the bunker all alone.
You aren’t a hunter like them, not yet at least. You’ve studied the lore, and you’ve trained a bit, because after all, you are a Winchester. And the name alone is like wearing a giant “kick me” sign if it said “kill me” instead. No, you’re a student, getting your associates online in the exploratory major because you have no idea what you would want to do other than hunt with your brothers.
Sam and Dean promised John they’ll never let you into the life. Your mom died shortly after you were born. Your dad met your mom on a hunt nineteen years ago. She was a nurse in a hospital. There was one patient who was wrongfully treated, and died due to medical negligence. And boy does a vengeful spirit do a lot of damage. John saved your mom’s life, and they celebrated that night. She got pregnant, and she kept John’s number so nine months later, he picks up the phone to find out he’s got a daughter. Dean overheard the conversation and when John said he wouldn’t go, Dean said he has to. It resulted in a huge argument. John eventually gave in, and they went to the hospital to see you, and Dean knew right there and then he’d do anything to protect his little sister.
Your mom killed herself after she brought you home. Family history of mental illness was bad enough, but the postpartum depression pushed her over the edge.
It was not easy showing up at Stanford trying to explain to Sam that he had a baby sister, and that also your dad was missing. It was especially not easy looking for your dad while they had to take care of a baby. Dean often got babysitters to watch you in the motels they stayed in.
And now here you are, nineteen years old, aimlessly walking through life. You’re getting an associates in nothing specific just to get some general education done. And that history of mental illness in your family is hitting you hard. You’re on antidepressants, a specific one that treats your depression and anxiety.
Dean parks at the motel, and goes to get keys for a room. You don’t mind sleeping on the couch, out of the three of you it only makes sense, you got tall and taller with you, and it just doesn’t seem fair to make them sleep on the couch when you fit so well on it.
Sam and Dean throw on their FBI getup and go start asking questions while you connect your laptop to the motel wifi. Yay statistics, said no one ever. You’re only doing this to make your brothers happy, you don’t see a reason to get a degree. They say it’s useful to get some sort of decent job, or to one day get a further education when you decide what you want to do. But you already know what you want to do, you want to hunt with them.
You don’t know how you ended up on the couch. One moment you were doing homework and… yeah, that’s enough to make you snooze. You look at the time and it’s 8am the next day. You look into your bag and your eyes wide as you realize you left your antidepressants in the bunker.
“Shit!”
Your sudden outburst awakens your brothers as they both shoot up to see what’s wrong with you.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam asks as they both run to your side.
“I forgot my meds at home,” you pout.
“Your meds?” Dean raises an eyebrow.
“My antidepressants,” you clarify.
Dean makes an “O” shape with his mouth in response.
“Have you ever missed a day before?” Sam asks you.
“No, and this is going to be longer than a day. How am I going to manage without it?”
“Managing your existing problems is the least of your worries kiddo. You’re going to go through withdrawals,” Dean takes a seat next to you. “One of us can stay with you.”
“I’ll be fine, let’s get breakfast, you guys do your research and then I get back and work on more homework, I’ll keep myself occupied,” you assure your brother. They give each other a worried look, not feeling too sure, but you insist you’ll be fine.
The three of you head to a diner, and you check out the menu while Dean checks out the waitress.
“Perv,” you mumble under your breath.
“Good morning, what can I get for you?”
Dean orders the greasiest breakfast on the menu, with bacon of course. Sam orders some omelette made with just egg whites.
“And for you, hun?” the waitress looks at you with a smile.
“I’d like a plate of eggs, over easy, and sausages. And an order of chocolate chip pancakes with extra whipped cream if that’s possible. And a cup of coffee if that isn’t too much trouble,” you order.
“Coming right up!”
After a couple of minutes the coffee is ready and she serves you and your brothers your coffee. You add a couple of vanilla creamers. You take your first sip, and immediately regret not blowing on it first. The hot liquid burns your tongue. You set your cup down as your stomach growls, begging to be fed.
On a normal day, you could be patient, wait for your food. But today isn’t a normal day, and even though it’s probably a five minute wait, ten at most, you need the food now. Your leg bounces up and down, as your fingers tap on the table.
“Hey kid, are you alright?” Dean asks you.
“Mmhm. Just hungry.”
“The food will be out any minute,” Sam assures you. You nod but it doesn’t make the time pass by any quicker for you.
You watch as the waitress walks over to your table with your food and you sit up. The moment she places your place in front of you, you dig in. Your brothers watch as you focus on your meal. They’ve never seen you eat like this. Normally you try to stay neat and clean while you eat. You talk to them. But right now, your brothers know better than to comment on you eating.
It’s not Dean doesn’t go crazy about food either. It’s just out of the ordinary for you, and you’re off your meds for the next few days, so they’re worried. Eventually they start getting to their research.
After breakfast, your brothers drop you off at the motel, and get on with the case. You open your laptop, log into your student portal, and look at your assignments. This is going to be a long day.
✰✰✰✰✰
You’re sat on the chair in front of your laptop, as you have been all day. It’s been hard to concentrate, you kept checking your phone, playing games. Every time your brothers texted to check in on you, you used it as an excuse to be on your phone again. And then when you finally started concentrating, you didn’t understand it.
You’re sat on your chair, tears streaming down your face. Hugging your knees, you just stare at the screen as the numbers blur together. Math was frustrating. It’s not like you’re bad at it, you’re actually great at it. But your mind is cloudy, and even reading over everything again and again, you’re not processing anything.
You barely made it through your other assignments, and this is all you have left for the day. You’ve been going at it since breakfast, you even skipped lunch to make up for the distractions.
The motel door clicks and creaks open, and footsteps enter the room. You don’t look up from your screen, you just hope they don’t notice your damp face.
“We got dinner,” Dean says, placing the bag on the table in front of you.
“ ‘M-not hungry,” you mumble.
“What do you mean you’re not hungry, what did you have for lunch?” Dean sits at the table, and Sam joins.
You still don’t look up as your brothers take out their food from the take out bag. Dean places your food in front of you as you push it away.
“I’ve been doing homework all day, no time to eat,” you attempt to speak but it all came out in a raspy whisper.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam scoots closed to you, placing his hand on your shoulder.
“I’m stupid, that’s what’s wrong,” you break down into sobs. “I can’t do simple math equations.”
“You’re great at math,” Dean tries to assure you, but it doesn’t help.
“But I can’t do it today.”
“Hey, hey. You're off your meds. You’re not stupid, you're just not in the right state right now,” Sam tells you, and you nod. “Eat up, and after dinner, I’ll help you with your math, and anything else you need help with.”
Your sobs become small whimpers until you stop crying altogether. You sniffle before grabbing the dinner your brothers got for your. Sam sits next to you and reads over your math homework and explains things. Just reading it didn’t process, but hearing it out loud, from your brother, that helped process what you were actually looking at. Not long after, you finish your homework.
“Thank you, Sammy,” you hug your brother, tightly, and he hugs you back.
“Of course, (Y/N/N),” he keeps you close.
✰✰✰✰✰
You toss and turn, unable to sleep. You’re really starting to miss your antidepressants. Huffing, you get up from the couch, throw on your slip on vans, and take one of the motel key cards. Maybe a walk with some therapeutic music will help you feel better. It really sucks how just after 24 hours, the withdrawal kicks in. You throw in your earbuds and start walking around the block.
Your skin feels all tingly and a burning sensation travels up your leg but you ignore your body screaming. Maybe the walk is what you need. You've been sitting all day, no wonder you can’t sleep.
You put your hands in your pocket as you sing along to the next song under your breath.
“Running low, on serotonin. Chemical imbalance got me twisting things. Stabilize with medicine, there’s no depth to these feelings. Dig deep, can’t hide from the corners of my mind. I’m terrified of what’s inside.”
You take in a deep breath, letting the cool air fill your lungs.
“Please don’t let me go crazy. Put me if a field with daisies, might not work but I’ll take a maybe.”
As the song ends, you reach the motel door, but before you can use your key card, the door opens. You look up to see Dean frantically walking out until he sees you.
“Y/N! Where were you?” He whisper-shouts.
“I just went on a walk,” you explain. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought it would tire me out.”
“How are you feeling?” he asks you, putting his hand on your back, bringing you inside.
“Honestly my legs hurt, my skin feels all tingly, and my head is starting to hurt.”
“Come on, you’re sleeping in my bed tonight. We can tell each other ghost stories until we fall asleep.”
You smile softly, remembering that’s what Dean would do to get you to bed growing up. You lay down underneath the cover and look at the ceiling.
“Instead of a ghost story, you can catch me up on what you and Sammy have figured out about the case,” you suggest.
And so Dean goes into detail about his day, and how he things by tomorrow night things should be done. Dean is thinking it’s a siren, since these victims were last seen talking about seeing a pretty woman.
“But what were the victims doing before they got killed?” you pose a question.
“One was smoking, another littered, the third being really disruptive,” your eldest brother answers you.
“Hm. Could be a dryad,” you tell Dean.
“A what?”
“A dryad, forest nymph, not a fairy or a goddess but sort of in between. Magical, gorgeous women. There are different nymphs, like water nymphs for example.”
“How do you kill a nymph?” Dean asks you.
“She’s just protecting the forest,” you pout.
“She’s killing people.”
“Talk to her.”
“How do you kill her?” Dean presses.
“You don’t,” you finally give in. “Not without killing nature. Do you want to burn down a tree, Dean?”
“… no.”
“Thought so.”
“Then what do I do?”
“Technically if you can find the one tree she’s attached to, you can kill her. But you shouldn’t.”
“I’ll try talking to her, for you.”
“Thanks Dean.”
✰✰✰✰✰
The next morning you and Dean are both awaken by Sam, who brings you breakfast burritos.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Mmm morning,” you yawn.
“Did you have a nightmare?” Sam asks.
“No, I just couldn’t sleep. So Dean caught me up on your case.”
Sam nods. After breakfast and some research, Sam and Dean get what they need to summon her.
“Since it’s not that dangerous, maybe I can come along,” you offer.
“Homework for the week all done?” Sam asks.
You nod.
“Legs feeling better?” Dean asks.
You nod again.
“You’re lying,” he squints his eyes at you.
“How would you know?”
“The second nod was slower and less confident.”
You groan.
“If you need one of us to stay with you, we can arrange that. If what you said is true, it will be easy enough for just one of us,” Sam suggests.
“I’m fine,” you lie. You’re not fine. Your body is aching, and the anxiety and depression are starting to really sink in.
“Sam, you’re better at talking things out than I am. I’ll drop you off, then head back here. You can call me if you need backup,” Dean says.
“Sounds like a plan,” Sam nods.
The two of them leave the room and you sigh, laying down. You can’t just stay sitting in this room the whole time. You’re at a bear themed motel close to the redwood forest. You need to experience the nature. You’re feeling trapped and panicked. Your breathing accelerates and you sit up. Pacing back and forth for the next forty minutes, you wait for Dean to get back.
The door opens and he walks in with a bag in hand.
“You’re five minutes late!” you yell at him.
“I just stopped to get some pie,” he sets down the bag. “I got you powdered donuts.”
You nod.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m just feeling really trapped in here. Think we can go for a walk, or a drive at least?”
“A drive sounds good,” Dean nods. “But eat the donuts before. No powder on Baby.” He points a finger at you.
“Yes sir,” you grab your donuts and eat, while dean digs into his pie.
After dessert, you two get into Baby. You look out the window as he pulls out of the motel parking lot.
“You want to play some music?” Dean asks you.
“What happened to driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole?”
“This is a one time opportunity, Y/N. You don’t wanna miss it,” he nudges you.
You use a cassette adapter to connect your phone. You continue the playlist you were playing last night.
“You wanna listen to sad music?” Dean raises an eyebrow.
“I am sad. I don’t have my happy pills,” you mumble.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Honestly? I just want to cry. For absolutely no reason. Well there is a reason, withdrawals.”
Tears well up, and you take a shaky sigh.
“I’m sorry kid. I’ll make sure we get home as soon as possible.”
You just nod. The medication doesn’t stop the bad thoughts from happening, but they stop them from hurting as much. The problem was the medication isn’t as effective anymore either. You’ve built a tolerance, so right now the only difference is instead of mild depression, you want to kill yourself. You hate how you look, I mean both of your brothers are considered attractive and you feel like you look… dorky. School is stressful especially when you’re working towards a degree you don’t want.
And then you think of your brothers, who swooped in to take care of you. John wasn’t a terrible father to you, but you know he was too tough on Sam and Dean especially when it came to you. And then when John died, Dean became basically like your dad. He already raised Sam during his youth and then he had to take care of you. You couldn’t help but think that Sam and Dean would have it so much easier without you.
You try to hide your cries, looking out the window, letting tears stream down your face.
“Y/N/N? Talk to me,” Dean coaxes you. “What are you thinking about.”
Your silent cries become wails and sobs. And the crying triggers a headache and you feel nauseous and everything is just awful.
“Dean, why do you keep me around?” You take a deep breath trying to calm yourself but it doesn’t work. “I’m a burden. You don’t need to be taking care of me, especially when I’m an adult. I’m just dragging you down,” you cry out. “If I were dead, or never born, you’d be so much happier!”
“Woah woah!” Dean pulls over, then looks over at you. “I would not be happier without you. We don’t keep you around to take care of you. You’re grown, independent. We love you. And we’re happy you like being around us too. You’re our family.”
You look up at him, and you can almost see his heart breaks as he looks at your face. He wipes your tears and pulls you in for a hug.
“Are you thinking of hurting yourself? Are the suicidal thoughts back?”
You nod, crying into the crook of his neck.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shh. You have nothing to be sorry about, baby, these thoughts aren’t your fault.”
You feel something going on in your throat, and you pull away quickly, opening the door, emptying the contents from your stomach. Dean quickly gets out from the drivers side and runs over to you.
“Ew,” you cry. “God that’s gross. I’m sorry.”
Your shoulders continue to shake as you resume crying. Your older brother crouches down (avoiding where you threw up) and pushes your hair back behind your ears.
“You don’t need to say sorry.”
“I might have gotten some on Baby,” you say, looking around to make sure.
“I can clean it. It’s just a car. You’re my baby sister.”
You sniffle as a smile creeps on your face.
“You do really love me. You’d never say she’s just a car unless it was that serious.”
“Of course it’s that serious. You’re having withdrawals. Now lets get something in that tummy,” he pokes your stomach. “Something light and comforting. You can wash up in the bathroom. And then we can get Sam and get you home.”
You nod and the drive resumes. You head back to the diner you had breakfast at yesterday. For lunch you get a grilled cheese and tomato soup. Dean gets a burger, obviously. As you wait for the food, you head into the bathroom and wash up.
After lunch, Sam gives Dean a call, saying it’s all over, and to also check up on you. You guys go on your way to pick up Sam. Dean hands the key over to Sam and Sam looks at Dean confused.
“Long drive from California to Kansas. Don’t want to leave her alone. After dinner we can switch off and you can sit in the back if you want,” Dean explains.
“It’s fine, it looks like you got control of the situation.” Sam looks over to you. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling like absolute shit. But better than before.”
“When we get home, you take your meds, get your sleep, then we can do a movie night,” Sam suggests.
“That sounds great Sammy,” you smile. You kiss his cheek before going into the back seat with Dean.
“Thanks for being here for me Dean,” you say, kissing his cheek as well.
“Of course. I’ve been here since day one,” he ruffles your hair.
✰✰✰✰✰
The next 21 hours end up being hell. Dean said the wrong thing while trying to comfort you, sending you spiraling. That’s when Sam sat in the back while Dean sat up front beating himself up over it as he drives the rest of the way home. You apologized for being a difficult kid and Dean didn’t deny you were difficult, he just said easy is boring.
Now Dean pulls into the bunker garage, and you run to your room to get your medicine and take it. Dean follows you, wanting to apologize.
“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. You aren’t a difficult kid. You were a great kid. Fun, and a great listener.”
“It’s okay Dean, I’m over it. Really.”
He nods.
“Can you stay with me until I sleep though? You and Sam? I want to hear about the dryad!”
“Sure thing. Sammy!”
Sam runs up to you guys.
“She wants you to tell us about the dryad.”
“Was she pretty?” you ask.
“Yes, she was very pretty.”
You lay in bed as your brothers sit on each side of you. Sam talks about how your plan to talk to her actually worked, and how the conversation went down. You smile as you listen. Your eyelids get heavy and soon you’re out.
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stxrshxpxd · 1 year ago
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“that’s my girl!” part 4
masterlist
pairing: dr house x reader
word count: 1k
prompt: it seems house can’t go very long without getting his hands on the reader and she is starting to wonder what’s going on between them
“This looks like a mild case of mono to me,” I said with a warm smile to ease the worry of my patient. I dropped my hands from the swollen lymph nodes in his neck and pulled my rubber gloves off as I wheeled my chair away from him. I went to speak again but was interrupted by the door swinging open. I turned around quickly to find House leaning against the door frame.
“I need you,” he said.
“I’m busy.”
I turned back around to face my patient, but House refused to leave of course.
“Sore throat? Pulled muscle? Scraped knee?” he asked belittling.
“House.”
“I need you,” he echoed.
“You said.”
“Emergency consult.”
I took a deep breath which I sighed out, and decided to quickly finish up with my patient. I knew there was no consult but I also knew he wouldn’t ever back down.
“The symptoms should be going away on their own in a few weeks. Just make sure to get as much rest as you can and drink lots of water. But if you’re not getting better by the end of next week, don’t hesitate to call. Thank you for coming in. Now, excuse me, I have to assist Dr House here.”
At last House got what he wanted when I followed him out into the hall and walked with him.
“Are you asking patients to call you now? That’s a bit desperate. I didn’t think he would be your type.”
“You’re exhausting,” I breathed.
“See, I thought your type was a bit more intelligent and charming. Maybe with a limp-”
“You obviously don’t need me for a consult,” I cut him off, trying to get to the bottom of what he wanted from me, while I still walked with him down the hall.
“Now if I so obviously don’t need you for a consult, why did you follow me?”
“I would much rather just aimlessly walk with you than do my interesting, fulfilling job,” I said sarcastically.
“It’s funny how you’re using that silly tone while telling the truth,” House said and steered us to my right. I rolled my eyes excessively but couldn’t think of what to say. House smirked at me.
“My patient,” House began again and opened the door to the next exam room, back first. “25 year old female, bratty, hot for her boss and in denial. What would you say that is? Daddy issues?”
“I have actual patients waiting in the clinic,” I informed him and went to turn around but House caught my waist with his large hand and kept me from moving.
“I dare you to look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want my hands on you,” he muttered with a gleam in his eye and head tilted as he stared me down. My heart was beating hard and I flexed my jaw, staring back up at him. He took my lack of a response as a yes and pulled my waist towards him and into the room.
Next thing I knew I was backed against the closed door with House’s tongue exploring my mouth and his hands under my shirt. He cupped my breasts in his palms and I exhaled a soft moan, which was cut short by the three hard knocks near the back of my head. House breathed out a frustrated sigh and kept his forehead against mine and our lips just barely touching.
“Unless L/N’s got a runny nose, this is not a medical exam. Quit hogging the exam room and do your job, House,” Cuddy’s strong voice broke through the door and I chuckled at her putting all the blame on House. But he didn’t smile. He kissed me again. It was softer this time and it felt odd, me having been pulled out of that lustful surge by Cuddy’s knocking. When House pulled away again I blinked back at him a few times, trying to determine what was going on between us. That vulnerability I had felt radiating off of him the other day after sex was back.
“What is this?” I asked finally.
“Oh, here we go,” House responded with mock annoyance at my need for emotional clarity and rolled his eyes, building his walls up again. I laughed breathily.
“Falling in love isn't a weakness, you know,” I said to his back which had turned to face me now.
“Falling sounds like a weakness to me,” he joked back and I noticed he wasn’t denying the love part. But he was deflecting. I squinted my eyes at him as he turned back around.
“Fine. Write me a poem about rising into love and we’ll take it from there.”
I left House like how he had left me so many times before. With a witty end to our conversation, patting his chest and turning my heel without looking back. I thought I would feel on top of the world but I had to take a moment when I stepped out of the exam room and I listened closely to the silence from inside. I felt oddly guilty for my snarking at him, but I forced myself to walk on.
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senlinyu · 3 months ago
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Hiya— forgive me, this is a big one!
Something I really appreciate about your work on both Manacled and LTDI is your approach to the wizarding world’s oppressive systems. I recently read a bit about how the caste system in India parallels to Jewish and African American oppression (there’s a great film on this too) and it made me go back and re-read Manacled just to look at it from this perspective.
I’m not sure how this fandom usually talks about wizarding world oppression since I don’t really engage, so I apologize if this is rehashing old metas haha. I mostly only see the direct parallels to “wizard nazis,” but I like that your work is more nuanced and detailed. I think it’s fascinating how the blood purity systems of oppression basically operate as a form of caste.
And in HP canon, the statue of secrecy is also very interesting, but you made it so much more engaging. Came for the enemies to lovers smut drama, stayed for the intellectual commentary haha!
I really like what you did in LTDI by exploring deeper how oppression looks like in a magical world, and the history behind the witch trials and dark magic. I *loved* the way dark magic was forbidden for muggle-borns, and the sickening and so realistic rationale that pure-bloods are taught about it.
And HOLY SHIT!—— You do such a good job at showcasing every aspect of this on LTDI through Hogwarts, Dumstrang, the archives, bullies, the press, and especially our two leads! Your depiction of the casual violence of oppression with Hermione and her journey learning about muggle-borns is devastating. and Draco’s absolute misery through the very oppressive system that’s supposed to put him on top is so true and also so brilliantly written. And it doesn’t hit me over the head with a shovel either, it’s just…human. It’s well done!! It reminds me why I like Dramione, besides the tension and the subtext, there’s so much richness that canon simply doesn’t have.
Sorry for the ramble! What I’m getting to is that when it comes to positive societal values (education, riches, peace, access to water and resources) and negative ones (lack of education, poverty, lack of resources, vulnerability to violence, incarceration,) the oppressor class is always going to rationalize that they earned it, and the subjugated second class deserves their lot. Here in America, the rationale was that people of color deserved subjugation because they were dirtier, meaner, stupider than their white counterparts; and these beliefs were upheld by religion, politics and incorrect science. But all of these are rationalizations and fabrications, because there is obviously nothing inherently superior about race (or in the case for white Jews— and here in HP— caste.) I think you translate that so beautifully to pure-bloods; but I was wondering how this works in relation to muggleborns.
On my reread of Let the Dark, I saw that muggle borns that didn’t manifest into Obscurus and went on to become wizards almost always grew into mastering black magic when they have access into the dark arts, while native-born wizards did not. The records of the fic also showed that black magic was corruptive to pure-bloods who tried it, and very hard to achieve at all even when put in similar nurture conditions when growing up.
So I guess this is all a really long-winded way of asking haha—— is Hermione’s muggle-born proficiency in black magic derived from nurturing or nature? and does that mean it’s vice versa for half/pure-bloods? Sorry I know you had a passage on exactly this but I just didn’t really know what you meant.
Anyway, these two are soooo fricking stupid horny for each other, I love the way you write them. Kudos ++ and thanks for all the work.
Can’t wait to see what’s next for LTDI ! ! ! !
Hi, thank you for the long ask. Am I correct in guessing that you saw the movie Caste? It's based on Isabel Wilkerson's book by the same name, which is one of the books that I read that was partially responsible for my inspiration for LTDI. A few years ago now, I was on a sort of journey reading about historical systemic oppression, but I didn't want to be limited to only American oppression and discrimination. I don't feel comfortable drawing absolutely direct parallels from real world in literature just because I feel like a lot of the times such attempts can perpetuate the very things they're trying to deconstruct (looking at you Zootopia), but the story is influenced by various reading I've done on discrimination and oppression throughout various colonial and class heavy cultures.
So as a result, I really didn't want to actually create a 'rational reason' for muggle-born oppression that had a legitimate basis, I wanted it to be a nurture based distinction. Yes muggle-borns have a unique ability that results from the trauma of their upbringing altering how their magic manifests, but that's not because they're actually naturally different, and in fact there's a very simple solution to preventing Black Magic by pre-emptively reaching out to muggleborns and preventing that formative trauma from occurring, but that would necessitate wizarding culture giving up their false sense of superiority and entitlement, and so they won't, and they let Muggle-born children and their families die where they don't have to see it.
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cherries-in-wine · 6 months ago
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I love ur posts on lolita the book- what are ur thoughts on the movies?
aw tysm anon mwah <3
(Made a few edits because my perspective changed a little)
I don't really like the movies- in fact comparing them to the masterpiece that Vladimir Nabokov wrote feels like an insult. Sometimes art can only exist in a certain medium and when you take it out of that medium it loses its integrity. Lolita is art that can only exist as literature. This is what I used to believe but to be honest even as literature it's being misunderstood a lot so it feels as if no matter what medium lolita exists in, it'll always be interpreted wrong.
It took Vladimir Nabokov 5 years to write lolita because writing from the perspective of a pedophile is tough- it's using the abuser to tell the victim's story but in this case the abuser is our unreliable narrator, he had to make Humbert Humbert charming or at least intriguing in a fucked up way enough that the reader would be compelled to read further (lolita will disturb you but you won't able to put it down) but any competent reader would will be able to figure out that Humbert Humbert is just spewing his delusional bullshit.
It feels as if Vladimir Nabokov predicted the romanticization of Lolita as soon as we started putting girls on the book covers- he intended on lolita being faceless
So much of what makes the book incredible lies in reading in between the lines to figure out what's actual going on. Think of it as Humbert Humbert is forcing his heart shaped rose coloured glasses onto you like "see it's a beautiful tragic love story" and it's your responsibility to take them off to see things as they are, a 12 year old child being abused constantly.
Unreliable narrators in general are hard to portray on screen (it's not impossible ofcourse, gone girl, 500 days of summer and black swan do it really well) but extra difficult in this case because lolita and Dolores are 2 different people entirely. Lolita is the persona, Dolores is the person. Lolita is the nymphet, the seductress that only exists in Humbert's twisted mind, Dolores is the 12 year old child. Humbert sees lolita, he wants you to see lolita, but you need to focus on Dolores.
Lolita 1962 was laughably inaccurate, they made Dolores look like an elegant woman when even Humbert Humbert describes her as a messy tomboy. Lolita 1997 is better I guess, it follows the book a little more accurately. The movie is definitely pretty to look at and I don't have a problem with Dolores being an icon or people taking fashion inspiration from her. In my opinion she is an icon, it isn't fair to reduce a victim's identity to their trauma and abuser. Also she's so funny and is constantly insulting Humbert so mwah love her so much plus I relate to her a lot as I went through similar things. I think some scenes of Humbert Humbert being an unreliable narrator were translated really well, for example this argument-
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Humbert gave a short description while the movie is more of lo's point of view, it's all screaming and shouting and absolutely devastating, Dominique Swain did an amazing job.
Both of the actresses were 14 during filming and that's just so unsettling to me. Sure you're using a body double for explicit scenes but isn't that just content for actual pedophiles, the closest thing to CP that's legal?. There are many older actresses that look younger but honestly that scares me more, because now there are no restrictions to the scenes they can film, which usually ends up underage characters in extremely exploitative scenes (think euphoria).
My feelings are sort of all over the place on this, I simply can't reach a satisfying conclusion- I don't think it's impossible to adapt lolita into a good film, black swan is one of my favourite movies ever and nina sayers is as unrealiable as a narrator gets, so it's not impossible to portray Humbert Humbert on screen but it will be difficult. On the other hand I just know that people will find some way to romanticize the movie- no matter how well it's written like in the novel it's so obvious Humbert is a pedophile that he might as well get it tattoed on his head but people still think of it as "aw tragic beautiful love story". But part of me thinks that if they write it kind of like gone girl, you believe nick is the murderer in the first half then amy's scheming is revealed in the second, just like that if lolita is shown in the first half but after dolores runs away her perspective is shown to audience, how she's so miserable and gives an accurate depiction of Humbert Humbert's abuse, maybe showing that horrifying reality of the story will end it's romanticization once and for all.
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