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roastedoatmilk · 4 months ago

Text

Brown Eyed Lover

Salaryman! Kento Nanami x Fem! Reader

tags: oral sex (both ways), nipple play, PIV, body worship, praise kink, nanami and reader being sappy as fuck and in love with each other

word count: 5.5k

summary: You give Salaryman Nanami all of the love and attention he deserves

A/N this fic is already posted on ao3 here also this was very briefly proofread so if there's any spelling or grammar mistakes I apologize.

You were sitting on the couch reading when you heard the keys turning in the door, not bothering to look up from your book when the door opened knowing that it could only be one person. This has been the routine every day for the last five years. He'd come home at exactly 7:00 pm not a minute later, he’d take off his shoes and jacket then loosen his tie before making his way to find you wherever you may be at.

“How was work Darling ?” You ask while turning to the next page of your book. You hear him sigh before you feel the weight of him on your thighs. Looking down you’re met with the sight of your fiancee lying face up in your lap, his blond hair had managed to break free from the gel you had watched him put in this morning. His warm brown eyes peered up at you as if you were the center of his universe. He frowns a bit before answering;

“Same as always I’m afraid, however I did talk to my boss about that promotion I was telling you about and it seems like I’ll end up getting it soon.” He sighs once more before closing his eyes, snuggling his head into the inside of your thigh. You could tell that his job was taking a toll on him. The bags under his eyes seemed to be more pronounced as of late due to lack of sleep. Kento works himself to the bone and comes home to you utterly exhausted. Most days he ends up falling asleep the second his head hits the pillow. Slowly your fingers make their way to his head finding their home in his light blond strands breaking up the remaining gel holding his hair together.

He lets out a groan of relief when he feels your fingers in his hair like he had been waiting all day for this exact moment, his eyelids fluttering when your fingers come across a particularly tender spot. Your fingers stop to also massage his scalp as you make your way around his head. You can feel him relaxing more and more as you continue massaging his scalp all of the day’s stress and tension leaving his body as your skilled fingers work their magic. Before long you slow down your movements as his breathing evens out. As your fingers come to a stop one of his honey colored eyes peaks open looking right up at you.

“Why’d you stop ?” Kento whispers with an uncharacteristic pout dawning his freckled face. The look reminds you of a child who was told they couldn’t have candy before dinner. You chuckle a bit at the man looking down at him with a heart so full of love you’re certain he can see it in your eyes.

“You looked so relaxed I thought you fell asleep, it wouldn’t be the first time you fell asleep while I did this” You say with a grin on your face thinking back to all of the other times he had fallen asleep in your lap. The man in question slowly opened his other eye looking up at you fully with a matching grin on his freckled face.

“I’m very much awake, I can assure you of that.” Kento says, shifting slightly a small frown on his face as he does so. Almost as if he was trying to find the most comfortable position he could without moving from your lap.

“Are you okay Darling? You look a bit uncomfortable.” You asked the tall man in your lap running your fingers through his hair. He let out a small sigh once again slightly shifting his long limbs contorting to fit onto the small sofa.

“Mmmm no I’m alright don’t worry yourself Love.” He mumbles in a tone you recognize all too well trying to ignore the heat pooling between his legs. Humming you continue to run your fingers through his hair dozing off until you again feel the man on your lap slightly shift his position. Pausing your finger’s movements you look down at your lover again.

“Kento you know that if you’re uncomfortable you can say so we can always move to somewhere that has more space if that’s what you’d like.” You whisper to the man a small smirk on your face. The blond looked back up at you and a flush of red appeared on his face upon seeing the look on yours.

“ I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” He mutters, shifting his eyes away from you and instead focusing on the wooden coffee table in the center of the room. You chuckle, only Kento Nanami would try and downplay his own discomfort because he didn’t want to ‘make a big deal out of it’. You lightly removed his head from your lap before standing up stretching out your own limbs. Looking down at your fiancee you hold out your hand to him.

“C’mon big guy up we go.” You tell the taller man who now has another uncharacteristic pout on his face begrudgingly taking your hand letting you pull him up off the sofa. The blond stretched his limbs for the first time in what must’ve been an hour or two. You yourself get your first full look of him since he had left in the morning, eyes scanning your lover’s body before landing on what you assume was the leading cause of his discomfort. Kento watches as your eyes slowly widen an infectious grin covering your face.

“Kento William, is there something you’d like to tell me?” You teasingly ask the man. His face and ears now bright red, eyes looking everywhere other than at you.

“Well you see I-” The tall blond stumbles over his words trying to form a sentence. Your giggles now filling the room as you watch the love of your life try to explain why he got hard from you massaging his scalp.

“Alright Loverboy lets go.” You say with a smile grabbing his hand and having him follow you to the bedroom, his freckled face beet red as he lets you lead him.

Once the two of you had crossed the threshold of your bedroom you let go of his hand and walked to the other side of the room turning to look at your lover. A stupid lovesick grin decorating both of your faces, you loved everything about him and treasured the softer moments like this. The two of you raking your eyes over the other’s figure before you crooked your finger at him beckoning him over to you. The blond made his way over to you stopping right before your bodies touched, you reached both of your arms to cup both of his cheeks in your hands rubbing your thumbs over the sharp lines of his face.

“ Let me take care of you tonight okay ?” You say softly looking into his tired eyes. He nods his head as much as he could with your hands cupping his face, a soft smile once again crawling its way onto his face.

Leaning his head down to press a soft kiss to your lips barely even a brush of the lips before pulling back and looking at you waiting for your next move. You remove your hands from his face taking a step back to put some space between the two of you before your hands go to where his tie is sitting loosened on his neck tugging it up and over his head then you move to carefully lay it on top of your shared dresser. Making your way back to the taller man before moving your hands to where his white button up is tucked into his work slacks slightly tugging on it looking at him to make sure it was okay to go ahead and untuck it. The blond smiles before verbally giving you the go ahead.

You press your lips to his again eveloping his mouth with your own as you slowly untuck the white fabric from his pants, once it is untucked you remove your mouth from his and move your way up to the top button unfastening it before moving onto the next. After each button was undone you planted a kiss onto the newly exposed skin taking your time unfastening them. Once all of the buttons were undone you reached your hands under the shirt running your fingers over his skin moving up to his shoulders helping him shrug the fabric off. After his shirt is removed you remove your own shirt, folding the two of them before moving to lay it with his tie, turning back to the tall blond you admire his exposed torso which had softened over the years.

After making your way back over to him you press a kiss on his heavily freckled shoulder, your hands moving to fiddle with his belt buckle. Once again looking at him waiting for his permission to continue on he quickly gives it to you, his eyes slightly hazy. You then begin to unbuckle his belt, your breasts pushing into his chest as you work on removing the piece of leather from around his waist. When you’re finished removing the belt you move your hands down to the button of his pants before you can even look at him to ask he covers your hands with his own helping you unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper. He then shimmies his slacks down and off his legs leaving them in a pile on the floor. He quickly moves his hands to cup your face looking you in the eyes before saying “My Love as much as I adore that you’re wanting to take care of me and take your time if you don’t hurry up a bit I’m afraid I won’t last very long”

You giggle as you remove your own pants, the two of you then standing in only your undergarments. Kento laughs in return, slipping his briefs down his legs putting them onto where he put his slacks. You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your panties slipping them down your hips and onto the floor, the two of you finally standing there naked. You can hear Kento’s breath hitch in his throat at the sight of your bare body, you can feel yourself grow warm at the fact that even after all this time he’s still in awe of you. You take your time trailing your eyes over every inch of his body admiring the wonderful man that you get to call yours.

“You’re so beautiful Kento, I really mean that.” You say in disbelief as if you hadn’t seen him naked numerous times before. The man before you blushing even harder as his breath hitches.

“Go lay on the bed baby, let me worship you.” You purr your eyes heavily lidded. The man momentarily looks at you in awe before he follows your instructions laying on your shared bed, his head propped up on the headboard with pillows. His entire upper chest, neck, and face is a bright red paired with the way his pupils are blown sends a pang of heat between your thighs, you can feel yourself grow wetter the longer you look at him.

Making your way to the bed admiring the man before you, lifting your leg to throw it over his waist straddling yourself on his tummy. You can feel his skin immediately start to dampen from the immense slick between your thighs, he groans his head falling back as he feels it soaking his skin. You take that as your cue to start pressing kisses onto his neck, stopping every couple kisses to suck a dark spot onto his skin before moving your way down to his collarbones nipping at the thin skin there.

Once you’re satisfied with decorating his neck in love bites you trail one of your hands to his nipple, tweaking it between your thumb and pointer finger as you lower your mouth to the other one slowly closing your lips around it and sucking. Kento lets out a guttural groan at the wet sensation of your mouth on him, his eyes squeezed shut. You giggle around his nipple which makes him groan even louder, before switching to his other one moving your free hand to tweak the wet nub. Taking your time on his chest giving each of his nipples equal attention before letting his nipple go with a lewd pop looking up at his blissed out face.

“How’re you feeling, handsome?” You say your voice heavy with lust. Kento slowly opens his eyes to look at you, his brown eyes now almost completely black.

“Incredible.” Was the only word he could utter before his eyes slipped shut again and he leaned his head back. You let out a chuckle before moving to kiss your way down his torso stopping just before the patch of dark blond hair above his cock. Looking up at him once again you then move to nuzzle your nose into the patch of hair briefly before slinking even lower to where his thick cock lies in all of its glory.

Looking him in the eye you stick out your tongue and kitten lick the tip reveling in the salty taste of his precum, Kento lets out a low groan at the feeling of your tongue on him. You give the tip a couple more licks before pressing wet kisses along his shaft, the groans the blond man was letting out only fueling the fire you felt burning in your core. You make your way to the very prominent vein along the side of it, taking the tip of your tongue and lightly tracing the shape of it. Kento lets out a choked moan before he reaches a hand down and pushes your hair out of your eyes before resting it on the top of your head. He can never get over just how good your mouth on his cock feels, the warmth and wetness of your mouth paired with the downright sinful look in your eyes as you suck him always makes his body feel like it's on fire.

The feeling of his hand on your head only spurs you on prompting you to move your way back up to his tip and carefully taking it in your mouth. You start gently sucking on the tip, being sure to mind your teeth before slowly moving your mouth down, taking more of him, letting the weight of him sit on your tongue for a second then moving your head back up until you have the tip resting on your lips. You smile when you hear the small whine your lover lets out at the feeling of the cool air hitting his slightly wet cock, pressing a kiss to the tip you take him back into your mouth until you feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly, removing him from your mouth once again giving yourself a moment to breathe.

“Are you alright?” Kento asks softly, sitting up and pushing your hair out of your face so you can see him. You nod your head and let out a hoarse “Yeah.” before sucking in a couple deep breaths.

After a moment you slowly make your way back to him once again taking his cock in your mouth and gently sucking on it, Kento sighs with pleasure and leans back against the pillows. You begin to lightly bob your head up and down making sure to pay extra attention to the tip as you come up. The taste of him hits your tongue once again making your eyes roll to the back of your head at the salty sweet flavor of him. After you get about half way down you suddenly pull back up to spit in your hand before taking him back into your mouth, you wrap your hand around the rest of him that you can’t reach with your mouth and slowly start stroking him. The added stimulation makes the blond man let out his loudest groan of the night, running his fingers through his own hair.

“Your mouth feels so good wrapped around me fuck” He growls, his head thrown back digging his head into the pillows.

The sight of this powerful man's head thrown back in ecstasy back arching off of the sheets blond hair, a mess from him constantly running his fingers through it makes even more heat well in your core, you can feel your arousal trickle down your thigh. Your clit hard and twitching begging for stimulation.

You find a rhythm of bobbing your head until it reaches the top of where your hand is stroking him, the speed staying constant until you can feel his muscles start to clench and his groans growing louder and louder. You can tell that he’s getting close by the way that his hands are gripping the sheets so you pick up the pace a bit, speeding up your strokes and bobbing your head faster. It's not until you feel him sit up and grab onto the hand wrapped around his cock that you stop and look at him. He grabs ahold of your chin lifting your head up and off of him a thin trail of spit connecting your mouth to his cock.

“Is everything okay?” You rasped, afraid that you had done something he didn't like. He shook his head with a chuckle.

“Everything’s fine, I just don’t want to cum so quickly,” Kento replies with a grin on his face, “Besides I’ve been wanting to taste you all day.” The blond man continues his voice huskier than before. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open slightly, it never fails to amaze you just how much this man loves being between your thighs. Before you could even get the words out of your mouth he had managed to flip your positions to where you were now, the one on your back with him hovering over you holding himself up with his arms.

“Kento!” You squeal, a giggle bubbling up from your throat.

The man chuckles before leaning his head down to kiss you, settling his top lip over yours. A small cry escapes your throat at the feeling of his lips against yours. You reach your hands up to tangle your fingers into his now free golden locks. You could never get enough of kissing him. There was just something about the way he tastes that drives you insane, whether it was the lingering taste of the tea he drank while at work or the minty taste of the breath mint he more than likely popped in his mouth on the way home. You just couldn’t get enough of it, running your tongue along his bottom lip asking for entrance. He opened his mouth and you moaned at the taste of him hitting your tongue. You tangled your tongue with his as your fingers gripped onto his hair causing him to let out a whine. You smiled at this loving how much of a hold you have on this 6 '0 tall hunk of a man. He pulled his lips away from yours, a trail of spit still connecting the two of you. He pushed himself back up onto his forearms once again hovering over you with a matching smile of his own on his face.

“Now I do believe there was something that I said I was going to do,” He whispers to you, his eyes heavily lidded. You loved seeing him like this, his eyes dark, the lewd smirk on his face, the delicious red flush all over his body leading directly down to his cock, the tip leaking with so much precum that it was spilling down the sides of his shaft. Your breath catches in your throat a whine making its way out. Kento smiles before slinking his way down your body stopping at your breasts, he grabs ahold of one with his hand kneading it softly.

“God I love these so much.” He says before leaning his head down and taking your unoccupied nipple into his mouth rolling it with his tongue. You wail at the feeling of his hot mouth on your sensitive nipple, your back arching pushing your chest farther into his face. He moves his hand on your other breast down your stomach right to the small patch of hair resting between your thighs. You had asked the blond when he first started dating if he minded it and he gave you a deadpan look and said “Why would I care it's your body, a bit of hair isn’t going to scare me off”. After that you never brought it up again feeling comfortable with his answer.

He slides one of his fingers between your folds gathering your slick before bringing his finger to his mouth placing it directly on his tongue. He let out a groan when the taste of you hits him, his eyes falling closed as he savors the taste, licking his finger clean before removing it from his mouth.

“You’re by far the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. I can never get enough of you.” His voice low as he says this to you. He then moves even farther down your body until he’s face to face with your pussy, glistening in the yellow light of your room.

Kento wraps both of his arms around your thighs keeping them open enough for him to fit between them, he looks back up at you from between your legs a wicked grin on his face before he licks a broad strip from your hole up to your twitching clit. You let out a sob at the feeling, heat shooting throughout your entire body, your back arching off of the bed as your hand flies to grab his hair.

The blond man chuckles at this which causes you to whine due to the vibration of it directly hitting your core. The sight of you back arched, head thrown back with your mouth agape was one of his favorite sights.

He once again dives his tongue into the mess of arousal present between your legs, his arms pulling you closer to his face until his nose is directly against your clit. He sighed as he felt the taste of you spreading over his tongue, it was warm and a bit salty but to him it was his favorite taste in the world. He begins to eat you as if it’s his last night on earth and your pussy is his final meal. You felt like you were floating every single one of your nerves set on fire, your moans growing louder and louder as he continued. Removing his mouth causing a whine to come out of your own he takes his middle finger and carefully caresses your hole with it teasing you. Pressing the tip of it inside and then quickly removing it causes you to mewl and grip his hair even tighter to the point where you're surprised it isn't hurting him.

“Kento please don't tease me.” You whimpered tilting up your hips to try and seek some sort of friction. Your clit was achingly hard, the little bud twitching as the cool air hit it. You heard your fiancee chuckle before sucking your clit into his mouth. You let out a loud cry at the feeling of your clit finally getting some attention. As the blond sucks on your bud he once again traces your hole with his finger before sliding it in until it hits the third knuckle. You keened as you felt the sweet sensation of being stretched, his fingers were much bigger than yours and were able to reach places that your own aren't able to reach.

“F-fuck.” you moan gripping his hair to press his face closer to your core.

You can feel your body heating up sweat sticking your hair to your forehead. Your free hand reaches to grab ahold of the bedsheet, twisting it in your grasp. Kento continued sucking on your clit using his tongue to caress the bud underneath the hood causing you to practically howl at the feeling. Kento grunts, rutting his hips into the sheets trying to get some friction on his aching cock. You can feel your core tightening and your mind growing more and more frazzled. All it takes is for him to insert another finger and a long suck on your clit for the wire to snap and you were cumming all over his mouth and fingers. Kento moans as he licks your cunt clean of your orgasm, taking his time to make sure he doesn’t miss a drop of your nectar. After you're all clean he sits up, his face covered in your juices. You hold out your hands to him and he pulls you to him, you move your legs to wrap around his waist feeling his cock press into your sensitive clit.

You let out a small whimper before saying, “Wanna ride you Kento” Hearing you say this causes his eyes to widen, slipping back into the submissiveness he displayed while you sucked him off. Before he sets you down and moves to the other side of the bed once again sitting with his back propped up by pillows. You scramble over to him and throw your leg over his waist hovering over his cock. You shudder feeling the tip of him touch your entrance. Grabbing a hold of him at the base and pressing him up against your hole, you look up at your lover waiting for him to give you the okay. He looks back at you and nods, slowly you start sinking down to him. The both of you moan, still looking each other in the eye.

“Fuck you always feel so good.” Kento groans, hands gripping your hips.

Once he bottoms out you both sit there for a minute letting you get used to the stretch. You’ll never get over how good it feels to have him inside you, he always stretches you out so well just enough to make your toes curl and your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling. Your back arches as your eyes roll to the back of your head, biting down on your lip as you try and get used to the stretch. Kento himself isn't faring much better you feel so wet and warm around him squeezing his cock so well, he could probably cum just from this you always feel so good around him. The grip he had on your hips was so tight you're sure that you'll still feel it come morning.

Once the two of you are adjusted you slowly move your hips up until only the tip is inside you before dropping yourself back down until your clit is flush with the patch of blond hair sitting above where his cock rests. Your head falls back as a guttural moan rips through your throat; the feeling of being so full takes over your mind. Your eyes peek open and look down at your lover, the normally stoic and reserved man looks absolutely wrecked. His hair packed with sweat and sticking to his face, his chest flushed a deep red heaving deeply at the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him, His hands gripping your hips as if they were his lifeline.

You lift your hips back up before dropping them again trying your hardest to find a rhythm, speeding up as you continue.

“God Kento you feel so good stretching me so well,” You whimper nails digging into the skin on his chest.

You can feel his tip perfectly hitting the spot that turns your brain to mush in this position, you let out mewls each time he brushes against the spot. Your eyes snap open when you feel fingers brushing against your clit, the sensation causing your overly sensitive bud to sing. Looking at the man beneath you as he rubs circles around your clit, his eyes gleaming with love and adoration. While he thinks you're beautiful no matter what you always look especially stunning like this, hair crazed and drenched with sweat, pupils blown, chest heaving with pleasure. He wishes he could take a picture of you just like this with his mind and keep it with him forever.

“I love you so much, you always make me feel so good.” The blond whines his mind hazy from how tightly your cunt is squeezing him.

The sight of you rocking your hips into his clit grinding into the hair above his cock, the feeling of your nails scratching into his chest ever time he hit that special spot within you, the way your cunt squeezes around him when your clit grazes him just right was almost enough to send him over the edge.

“Always take such- shit take such good care of me.” Kento is rambling at this point getting lost in you and just how tight you feel at this angle.

The feeling in your core tightens at his words; it only takes a few more strokes on your clit for you to fall over the edge.

“Love you so much Kento shit so so much” You wail as your cunt flutters around his cock, your hips stuttering as you ride out your orgasm.

Kento groans hands gripping onto your hips letting you come down from your high, his eyes never once leaving your figure. He thinks that if he were to die right now he’d die the happiest man in the world. As you return to your body you look down at your lover before you start grinding against him again.

“You’ve been so good for me baby, letting me take such good care of you.” You say your voice hoarse. Kento whines your words making his head fuzzy and his body warm.

You pick up the pace setting a steady rhythm, hands still placed firmly on his freckled chest. You purposely tighten around him as your hips rise up causing his back to arch hands digging almost painfully into your hips.

“Please let me cum fuck making me feel so good.” The blond whined eyes squeezed shut. “Love you so much baby shit please let me cum” Kento is babbling at this point the feeling in his core tightening almost painfully.

“Go ahead and cum darling you’ve earned it.” You whisper, Kento takes this as his cue and firmly plants his feet into the mattress thrusting up into you freely.

“Thank you thankyouthankyou love you so much always so good to me.” He mumbles as he tips over the edge, his hips stuttering.

The feeling of his warm cum spurting inside of you causing you to let out a moan of your own. As Kento rides out his high you once again run your fingers through his now sweaty hair. Whispering in his ear how good he’s been for you, how much you love him, how proud you are of him.

His breathing slows down as his eyes peek open, his fingers now rubbing circles on the indents he left on your hips. You sit back up looking into his warm brown eyes, fingers still working through his hair.

“Hi.” You giggle a wide smile on your face, you don’t think he could look any more handsome than he does right now. His entire upper body flushed, hair sticking to his face from sweat brown eyes twinkling as he looks at you.

“Hi.” He says letting out a giggle of his own. He’s so utterly in love with you he thinks his heart might explode. The previous stress of his day is forgotten as he just lays there with you basking in your presence.

“I think a shower is needed darling I’m practically sticking to you.” You sigh, the feeling of your sweaty body sticking to his making you grimace.

“I wouldn’t mind you sticking to me forever.” He grumbles hating the idea of having to get up and move right now. He puts a hand on the back of your head encouraging you to lean down so he can press his lips against yours. Sighing as his lips touch yours his top lip placed firmly over your own.

“Mmmm you are so corny, you’re going to regret not showering later if we don’t go now.” You giggle, mouth still pressed against his.

Before he can protest you sit up and lift yourself off of his now soft cock, wincing at the feeling of his cum trickling out of you and down your thigh. You pull yourself up and crawl off of him, walking over to where you had placed both of your shirts, shrugging his button up on not bothering with any of the buttons and turn back to face him. His eyes lighting up at the sight of you in his shirt.

Reaching a hand out towards him you ask,

“Are you going to join me?” Kento grins before standing up and walking towards you, the both of you making your way to the bathroom.

Kento gently pats your butt as he walks past you into the bathroom making you squeak and swat at his hand. He thinks that he’s the luckiest man in the world right now if for nothing other than being able to spend the rest of his life with you by his side.

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killerpancakeburger · 6 months ago

Text

SILVER-TONGUED

SUMMARY: Soap drops by your office to pick you up, like every friday evening for your poker game with the Task Force. But when you turn out harder to remove from your desk than expected, he's going to resort to a different method.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader

TAGS: Civilian!Reader, Anxious!Reader, Clingy!Soap, Established Relationship, fluff, swearing, mention of chronic pain, suggestive/light smut: dirty talking, gropping, foreplay (?), semi-public (happens in your office on base but no one walks in lol), (they keep their clothes on). Idk how to tag, help

WORDS COUNT: 1.2k

A/N: Just because I wish I had a Soap to sweet-talk me from my desk at the end of the workday. *sigh wistfully* This is the filthiest thing I've ever written, so... enjoy? But also forgive my amateurism.

Plunged into your work, you’re essentiellement deaf and blind to the outside world. When you notice Soap's presence, he had the time to sneak into your office and behind your chair, arms folded over your backrest. By the way he pronounces your name, you can tell this isn’t the first time he's calling it.

“Hey,” you salute, surfacing back to reality with difficulty, focus not leaving your computer's screen, but reaching backwards blindly with one hand for contact. He grabs it right away.

“What's up?”

He chuckles a bit at that.

“Day's over is what's up. Ye coming?”

Your eyes fly to the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen. The evidence is damning: your shift has been over for ten minutes. It is far from unusual for you to stay too late, but tonight's friday and the 141's weekly poker game is summoning you in the form of an overeager Scotsman whose eyes you would damn yourself for.

On the field, the Sergeant MacTavish can remain immobile for hours on end with a sniper rifle in hand, stoically waiting for a target to get in his sights. On base however, your lover can hardly stay still more than a minute without a reason he'd deem legitimate.

His question is very much rhetorical. You tried to slip away once, not because you didn’t want to come but because you were worried the guys felt obligated to invite you out of politeness, and somehow Johnny must have read your mind because he snatched you and fireman carried you all the way there.

You wouldn’t have forgiven him if he had dared to pull those antics in front of others, but he managed to keep that spectacle just between the two of you. You still yelled at him a lot afterwards though. And punched him. And kicked him. Felt like hitting a punching bag anyway, so you didn’t feel guilt over the fact that he wasn’t defending himself at all. Once you were done huffing and puffing, you just glared at him, out of breath, fists clenched, and he stared back shamelessly, a grin on his face. The genuine joy in his expression was contagious, so you started laughing uncontrollably, and he joined you quickly.

Coming from anyone else, this overly familiar behavior would have disturbed you. Being carried around like a helpless toy, powerless to resist someone else's will, wasn’t something you were fond of. But Soap proved himself time and time again to be safe. He could tell apart your serious reluctances from your playful protests, and if he had any doubt that you were uncomfortable, he would have stopped messing around instantly.

Deciding for you in that particular moment eased you off a burden, saving you from crippling indecisiveness and from endlessly weighing pros and cons in awkward silence. It was a favour.

You never contemplated refusing the offer again after that.

“In five minutes,” you bargain, not wanting to interrupt yourself in the middle of a task.

He loudly whines in protest at that, acting more distressed than he actually is.

“Nooo. Come ooon. Ye can finish later.”

“Be quiet,” you retort, and yet unable to curb an amused smile from stretching your lips.

He sighs exaggeratedly before admitting defeat. For exactly five minutes and not one second more.

“Bonniiiie.”

You don't relent.

“I'm almost done!”

“Ye were s'pposed to be done 20 minutes ago!”

You don't have any good argument to oppose that truth, so you remain silent. Soap does not.

He starts massaging your shoulders and dispensing cajoleries into your ear to coax you into compliance. You manage to tune him out until he curiously presses the tips of his fingers into your trapezius muscles and you wince. He lets out an impressed whistle.

“Fuck, yer tense. Yer shoulders feel like reinforced concrete.”

You sigh, having heard that one before.

“Bane of my existence,” you mumble absently.

He hums pensively, and you think that's the end of the matter, until his hand slides down your chest, all the way from your collarbone until your navel, leaving shivers in its wake, and his lips settle on the crook of your neck.

Concentrating suddenly becomes impossible.

“Johnny,” you call out in warning.

Or at least that was the goal, but you can hear in your own voice how affected you already are.

He treats his name like a demand for more, and leaves a trail of kisses along your neck and your shoulder, tugging on your collar to have more skin to work with. Meanwhile his hand caress and grope your torso, burning you through your clothes, in slow, unhurried motions that feel terribly suggestive. He knows your body so intimately well, only brushing the sore spots, like the side of your ribs, where the bone presses right beneath the skin, teasing the sensitive areas and tenderly stroking the rest.

“What do you think you're doing?” you contrive to ask, resisting the temptation to close your eyes to focus solely on his touch.

This may be afterhours, but you’re still in your work office, and anyone could barge in. While the idea may be arousing in theory, you know that the reality would mortify you.

“Just helpin’ ye relax, hen. Ye work too hard. Lemme take care o’ ye.”

Once again, you can’t find a good argument to oppose him. You do work too hard, and you desperately need to unwind before the pressure you self impose makes you explode like a time bomb. Since you've started dating, Soap had a tendency to mentor you into taking it easy, and he never steered you wrong until now.

You sigh in defeat, lift a hand to grasp his mohawk, letting your head tilt backwards, and surrender to his wandering hands and mouth.

Two fingers glide on the inside of your thigh, from knee to groin. In the meantime, his hand squeezes your breast. His lips stop from sucking and licking your flesh only to whisper filthy nothings into your ear.

“Could sneak under yer desk… make myself at home between yer legs… and let ye fuck my face while nobody knows. Would help with yer tension, ah'm sure.”

You suck in a gasp at the conjured mental image, legs spreading almost immediately. You, digging your fingernails into your palms with restraint, Johnny's cerulean eyes almost shining in the half-light of the bottom of your desk as he's staring hungrily at you, kneeling. Him raising a finger across his lips in silent command before spreading your knees further apart and nuzzling against your crotch. You fighting back against the urge to grind on his face and suffocate him between your thighs, the knowledge that he's not averse to the idea making things worse.

“Johnny,” you whimper, beguiled. “Fuck.”

He lets out an appreciative hum.

“Knew ye'd like that.”

The fingers tickling your inner thigh finally move to where you want them most. You grit your teeth to contain the moan that threatens to escape you as his middle finger runs up and down your slit.

Then the racket of your phone vibrating against the wood of your desk abruptly brings you back to reality. Your eyes open wide and you raise your head to see who's calling, only to swear in horror as Ghost's mask occupies the screen. As the contact's photo vanishes, a notification indicating seven missed calls makes your stomach twist in fear.

One does not stand up Lieutenant Riley and comes out unscathed.

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livingdeadgirlflorette · 1 month ago

Text

SO HIGH ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ carl grimes x reader

summary : getting caught smoking at your age isn't a good thing, but maybe getting caught smoking by the new guy's son isn't so bad at all, especially since he looked so cute.

tags / rundown : slight angst at the start, almost kissing, underage smoking, shotgunning, set in alexandria, carl is easily flustered, reader's parent's are pronounced dead (womp womp)

word count : 2.8k

a/n : this fic was inspired by me listening to so high by doja lols. since my midterms ended, i've decided to write this with my free time. hope it was worth it (∩_∩;) also i'll be writing a part 2 to "late night kisses", just dk where to start ( ´△｀) lmk if you want to be tagged in it!

dividers by @cafekitsune ꩜ .ᐟ

Alexandria seemed like such a pleasant escape from the shithole of the world we're living in today. Living almost two years by yourself from. . . unfortunate circumstances between your parents and an unexpected herd of walkers that had invaded your base camp. With a heavy heart and an even emptier stomach, that had left you scrounging for anything to survive. Food, water, a place to sleep in— it felt like you were just barely living day by day.

With all hope lost and no destination ahead, you just kept walking— no goal or end in mind, just walk until you found a place that could help you regain the empty feeling in you. To your surprise, a place like that still existed— a sanctuary called Alexandria. The first time you ever entered the gates, you felt like a deer in headlights. It all looked different from the outside world, giving you a sense of hope, a small beacon of hope that it would get better.

But even with all the good things that come with it, it still felt like you were so out of place. The pristine, large houses and the children laughing, acting as if nothing had ever even happened. Unrightfully, it irked you. They didn't know what it was like living day by day, not knowing if the last place you'd stay and shut your eyes for shelter in would be your last. They didn't know what it was like to starve, famished to the point you'd eat raw animal just so you could have something in your stomach. They didn't know what it was like to lose people by shooting them using their own gun. They didn't know.

All the feelings of jealousy, envy, and sadness spiraling in you, was overwhelming you to the point of just crying until you had no tears left. But you would never let them know that. It would be a stupid move to show weakness, especially in the state of the world. So you sneak out.

Sneaking out of Alexandria was a therapeutic event. Every time you do this it relaxes you, knowing what would come after would be the cherry on top to help you wind down and let your feelings fizzle out.

With you far enough from Alexandria where you knew no supply runners or recruiters would catch you, you walked through the forest, trying to find a place that's quiet. Seemingly in a matter of minutes, you find a small clearing. Peaceful and from your scoping of the forest, no walkers.

You sit down next to a tree and put your bags down, then finally sitting down, leaning on the large vegetation. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, you fiddle around your jacket pockets and suddenly stop when you hear a voice call out to you, seemingly unimpressed.

"You know that kills you, right?" You turn around to put a body to the disembodied voice, and you see it's the boy from that one group that Aaron had recruited. You weren't that tuned in to the whole story, but you saw enough to know that they were like you, different, in the sense that you'd been out there, living through the apocalypse.

From overhearing Ron and Mikey talk about if they should him to play videogames, you knew the boy's name was Carl. He was cute, interesting, boyish in a way that he still had that youthful face, yet he was mature to have so much control over his emotions and body language and the way he carried himself.

If it were someone different, you'd just ignore the person and tell them to leave you alone. But you had the idea Carl wouldn't be such an annoyance to you, so you decide to entertain yourself by speaking with him.

"That's kind of the point." Finally, you find you lighter in your back pocket and proceed to tap on the cigarette box, pulling one out and putting it between your lips.

You didn't what to continue talking right now, wanting to just focus on matter at hand. You were thinking how to tell him but you were pleasantly surprised to see that he'd gotten the message, and just walked next to the spot on your tree, and sat down next to you.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you question his motive. Why would he even talk to you? more so why would he try to sit next to you? he has nothing to gain from this. . .

Continuing your actions, you flick open the lighter and the fire sparks burst out, creating a small flame. It fills you with relaxation. You lean in, just close enough to light your cigarette and when you finally inhale the comforting tobacco— you sigh out the smoke, lazily blinking. Your eyes dart up to the sky, watching the smoke from your mouth go up and away.

You look back to Carl, realizing you barely noticed he'd comfortably situated himself— with his signature sheriff's hat that he donned on the grass next to him and a comic book open in his hands.

You guess he wouldn't really be a nuisance, he would just be next to you while you let out your puffs of tobacco. So you scoot a little closer to him. What you didn't notice was how he saw you moving closer, unable to hide a ghost of a smile before it disappeared completely.

The sky was turning into an entrancing shade of cool colors. It seemed like time passes faster when you're smoking, only focused on changing the cigarette when it's on its last puff, and breathing in and slowly out to watch the result of your sighs for it to go up into presumably the clouds. You wish you could stay here forever. Carl was quietly reading the second comic book he'd brought, not having any plan to talk to you and your relaxed state. The boy's company was actually, comforting in the sense that you had someone with you.

But you had noticed he kept glancing at you and more so, your lips. You know the reason. He's obviously curious. From your knowledge, teenage boys are typically rebellious, so you figured he'd want to try a small puff.

The silence that had been enveloping the majority of your time together was broken by you.

"You want to try it?" His eyes jolt up from the scene in the comic he's reading, sincerely surprised you'd ask.

"I- uh- yeah i'd like to uhm— I wanna try it." He tries to find the right words, but seemingly they all just turn into mush when he sees you.

Your eyes are lidded, your body languid— presumably from all the tobacco you'd been smoking, and your lips are plump, slightly open. With that look, it's enough to send blood rushing to his cheeks, his eyes darting blinking rapidly and looking slightly down to hide his blossoming blush.

Even in your smoke-induced haze, you still notice this. Seeing him act all bashful and shy in front of you, it makes you feel giddy inside. You let out an airy chuckle and you hand him the cigarette.

"Knock yourself out." You tell him. With a nervous gaze, he musters up his courage and looks at you. Hesitantly taking the cigarette in your hands. But you undoubtedly notice his hands brush against yours as he took the lit stick of tobacco.

Carl then calculatively puts the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling before letting out a dry heaving cough. You giggle at him, you know it's a common mistake but he just looks so cute trying to do it properly.

"How do you even do it without coughing—" His words were cut off by another cough he let out, he seemed like he was having a hard time so you gently put your hand on his back, lightly patting it to help him cough.

"It's okay, I kept coughing a fit the first time I did it." You assured him, wondering how you could help him get through it, until you finally clicked, realizing what you should do to have him experience it properly.

"Do you want me to help you?" Your voice is gentle and calm so you don't startle him. He looks at you, his coughing had seemed to cease. His posture went straight, eyebrows furrowed. What could you possibly to do help him smoke without him wheezing?

Carl silently gives you an okay, slightly nodding as he does. "Don't freak out, okay?" He's curious, what would you do to help him? But then he sees your actions, you take the cigarette in between his calloused fingers and put it back into your mouth, taking in a small intake.

He's uncertain on what you're about to do, questions going in and out of his head. But you silence those answers by taking the cigarette out of your mouth, then grabbing his chin with your free hand to have his face an inch apart from yours.

His mouth is open in awe and disbelief. He can feel his heart beating out of his chest when you take you open your mouth, slowly blowing the smoke into his mouth. He quickly understands what you're doing, slowly breathing in the puff of smoke with his mouth.

With the last blow of your lips sending the smoke, You make eye contact with him. Your eyes were all this time trained on his lips, focusing so he wouldn't move. His breath hitches when he finally has all of the smoke you had in your mouth.

It's overwhelming for Carl, really— knowing all the puffs of tobacco he had in his mouth were in yours, and how close you still are to his face, it makes him want to shoot his heart out into the darkening sky. Realizing he's been looking too long at your face and not releasing the smoke, he lets it out slowly, watching your every move.

You look at him, letting a small smirk grace your face as you lean back. He doesn't know why he has such a dissatisfied feeling when you pull back though, It's so perplexing to him.

"We should get back to the gates, I think your father would be worried that his son's been missing." You put the cigarette out, standing up and patting your jeans off, shooing the dirt off your clothing. You look back to Carl, the emotion on his face evidently stupefied.

"Yeah— my dad's probably looking for me by now so," He scrambles also to fix himself up, turning slightly away from you. He tries to find more words, but it leaves him with only a few.

"We should go." He finally says. He wanted to save himself from the embarrassment he'd feel from you seeing his blush.

Carl thought what he was doing was ridiculous though; it was getting dark, you wouldn't be able to see color on his face unless you were close and squinted hard enough. But he does so anyway.

The rest of the walk back to Alexandria you're standing side by side, walking with him. You fail to ignore that tingly and rushed feeling whenever his hands accidentally brush yours, making your cheeks flush. You look at him, curious if he also felt the way feeling you were experiencing.

Carl felt quite befuddled, he was so perplexed at the thought of you. There was a swirling feeling in his heart. He wondered if what he was feeling was just from the nicotine in those cigarettes or if it was because of you, but then his question gets answered when he looks at you.

With the eye contact you guys had, you smile bashfully and look straight back at the path. He made you smile, and that was enough for him to know he was interested. He wanted to know more about you, and what it would feel like to have your face close to him again. Hopefully next time it would be to feel your lips on his, and not just the smoke.

I'm not sure if I like this, but it fueled my imagination of smoking with Carl so I don't really mind (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

#carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #carl grimes x you #𓂃🖊 — florette's fics

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rninies · 7 months ago

Text

✮ matching hoodies

౨ৎ veritas ratio x reader. fluff, gn!reader, ratio is so in love w you, modern!au — wc: 733 | tags: @rosequarzo @fairykazu

notes. hai im back w another ratio fic

"remind me why we are here again?" veritas asks, watching you look through the hoodie section of the store.

"i’m here to buy a hoodie, veritas. you’ve asked that question ten times now," you sighed. turning your head to face him, you see a pronounced frown on his face. "why are you frowning? do you not like accompanying me shopping?"

"no it’s just- our closet is already full of your hoodies. more than half of the closet is filled with your stuff. why do you need more?" veritas answers.

you give him a sheepish smile in return. "well, i happen to be someone who loves hoodies so deal with it. besides, i know you love borrowing my hoodie from time to time."

veritas's face actually turns a light shade of red hearing you expose his actions. "you- you didn’t have to say that out loud, idiot."

you gasped dramatically. "veritas ratio, language!" and you dodged an incoming balled-up scrap of paper. "what was that for?!"

“for being annoying.”

"oh you wound me," you placed a hand over your chest for dramatic effect and couldn’t help the laugh from escaping your lips as you see veritas's disgusted look. "okay, how about you sit over there while i find the perfect hoodie for me to wear, yeah?" you pointed at the small seating area and veritas agrees silently, taking the other shopping bags with him.

as soon as veritas sits down and busies himself with his phone, you scavenged through the pile of hoodies, racks of sweaters, basically anything that fits the category ‘long-sleeved and keeps us warm’. hoodie hunting wasn’t your favorite pastime as it not only takes up so much of your time but you also have to let go of the other cute hoodies you find along the way.

when you reached the last pile of hoodies, you find a white hoodie with a small brown dinosaur holding out a finger heart while winking and facing the right. looking below that was an identical one, it being a black hoodie with a green dinosaur doing the same pose except it’s facing the left. putting the two hoodies next to each other, it makes it seem like the dinosaurs are shooting hearts at each other.

your eyes light up as soon as you find these two pairs of hoodies, grabbing both and ran to the cashier (veritas fortunately did not see you). as soon as you paid, you basically skipped your way back to veritas, which caught his attention. "why- when did you pay for the hoodie? i could’ve paid for you."

"just now!" you replied and took out the black hoodie from the bag, showing it to him. "look, isn’t it cute? especially the dinosaur!"

veritas nods, not really paying attention to the hoodie. "it’s cute, yeah- what are you do-" he gets cut off when you basically force him to wear the hoodie.

taking out the white hoodie, you wore it, and smiled at him. "look, now we match!"

veritas looks at the mirror in front of him and true to your words, you both were indeed matching. "what the hell?"

"don’t you dare take it off," you warned, seeing veritas about to reach for the hem of the hoodie. "i paid for these hoodies and you’re keeping it. it’s cute, okay? look at the dinosaurs! just like you and me."

"very funny, y/n," veritas grumbles, holding you by the waist as he leads you out of the store. "this is embarrassing!" though the way his hands tightened around your waist says a different thing.

"be glad i didn’t end up picking one where it was super obvious that we got matching hoodies." you say, poking his cheeks. "besides, we don’t have any matching items! the closest thing we have to something classified as matching is that keychain we bought on our first date."

"and do you not like the keychains?" veritas asks. "it’s two cats and when you connect them with each other it looks like they’re cuddling with each other.”

"okay, i did not ask for your inner cat lover to come out when we’re discussing the keychains," you pointed out. "yes i love the keychains, but i want something more, hence the hoodies."

veritas groans, looking at his hoodie and yours. "be glad that i love you."

"that’s such a cliche thing to say." you giggled.

"shut up."

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show-your-fangs · 1 year ago

Note

What about a teenage!Jack where his friends are over and keep commenting how his Mom (reader) is attractive and Aaron finds it funny but Jack is mortified?

this is fucking GOLD. enjoy another installment of moments au

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 665

CW: nothing, cursing mostly.

Tags/warnings: jack's friends being pervs, cursing, jack defending his mom and dad.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

Aaron honestly couldn’t blame them. He honestly found it funny, how their cheeks would flush every time you walked past, seconds away from catching them saying the most inappropriate things about you. He knew they didn’t know he could hear them from his office, the angle keeping him hidden as he tried to work while also allowing for their voices to carry down the hall.

Jack had brought his friends over for a pool day and he’d requested that the two of you leave them alone, that they could fend for themselves. But as much as he’d pleaded, you were still unable to stop yourself.

You’d made them snacks, prepared a homemade ice tea, would check in every so often to make sure they were doing okay. And every time, without fail, his friends would pretend to be utter gentlemen, thanking you profusely until you left them alone once more and they turned from the kids their parents through they were into the horny teenagers they really were.

It became clear to Aaron immediately why Jack didn’t want you around. It had nothing to do with his independence but rather the fact that his friends clearly didn’t know how to act around his mom. They’d made every inappropriate comment a teenage boy could come up with, and every time Jack would groan or roll his eyes or politely ask them to chill. But every time you showed your face the comments would start up again.

It was after lunch when shit hit the fan. You’d ordered a big family meal style delivery, had set up the large containers in the kitchen, with the boys’ help which they were eager to give, and had made a plate for yourself and Aaron. They thought you couldn’t hear them in the kitchen, thought they were being so slick, but they should’ve known better than to not wait for you to exit the room.

“I still don’t know how your dad bagged her,” Eric started, clearly teasing. “She’s just so—”

“So out of his league,” Dylan finished and the two of them snickered together.

“If I had a step mom like that…” Nick sighed and the other two chuckled, no words needed for the four of them to know what he wanted to say. Jack couldn’t help but cringe, the mere thought of his stupid friends thinking about you this way appalling.

“You boys need anything else?” you said loudly from the kitchen, a cue for them to stop talking as you pushed the door open with your hip.

“We’re okay, thanks mom,” Jack’s voice was chipper like it always was with you, always soft and kind. His friends’ immediately perked up at your requests, their eyes sparkling with what you could only imagine were requests that you definitely didn’t want to know about.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hotchner,” they practically sang in unison, their teasing only getting more pronounced as you walked down the hall, desperately trying not to give them anything else to talk about, but apparently that was completely useless.

“Check out her ass—”

“Shut the fuck up, dude,” you heard Jack groan, his patience finally running thin. His friends stilled in an instant, your instinct to fix it slowly creeping up from your heart to your brain. But Aaron was quick, his hand wrapped around your waist before you could move. “How would you like it if I talked about your mom like that?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought,” he stated, confident. “So can you please just stop it?”

His words were followed by a string of mumbles and murmurs in agreement, ashamed apologies and admissions of guilt.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, Aaron quickly pulling you into his office so the two of you could erupt in a fit of giggles. It was cute, almost too adorable that the boy you’d met so long ago was now defending your honor to his friends, was standing up for his mom, for his dad, for his family.

okay i'm trying to get through some of the requests. i apologize for not being as active, you know how fanfiction authors' lives go off the rails sometimes.

i'm going to try and post a few of these before my "taking some time off" announcement. i've got a big week coming up but know i am trying.

tag list: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner blurb #jack hotchner being a cutie #show your fangs hotch blurbs #show your fangs moments au #show your fangs writes #moments on ao3 #show your fangs asks #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner

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fairy-writes · 5 months ago

Note

Hi hi! I see you just opened your Kaiju no. 8 requests and I’m head over heels for our boy Kafka! I’m not sure WHERE to take this but like him having saved you in a similar fashion as Kikoru (so you know he’s part kaiju now) and months later after A LOT of flirting Reno finally blurts out “JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY JEEZ!!” or something🤣

If you’re not a fan you can take this however you want or ignore it lol thanks for indulging me lovey! *screams please & thank you <3

HE LISTENS

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Hibino Kafka x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Civilian!Reader, Kafka and Reader are the same age, Reader is implied to be shorter than Kafka

Notes: I absolutely adore Kafka! He looks like he’d give the BEST hugs!

The reader is written with fem!reader in mind, but no pronouns are used!

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA

__________________________________________________________________________

You knew you should’ve evacuated at the first siren.

But noooooo! You just had to go back to your apartment for your laptop! But hey! Your dissertation for your doctorate was saved on there, and there was no way you were losing it when you were this close to finishing and graduating!

You ducked under another swipe of a Yoju. It’s some spindly long thing with too many eyes and a mouth full of too many teeth. It takes another swipe at you, and you duck, narrowly avoiding dropping your laptop bag as you trip over some stray rubble. Your right arm shoots out to catch your fall while the left cradles your precious dissertation and homework.

Pain jolts up your right elbow, and you’re pretty sure you have road rash all up and down your fingers and your palm. You look up and see the Yoju opening its maw to swallow you whole and only think of one thing.

You knew you should’ve evacuated at the first siren.

You close your eyes, accepting your fate but curling into a tighter ball in a sorry attempt to make it harder to eat you. (What kind of logic was that?)

But nothing happens.

What?

You peek open an eye and see something that has your jaw dropping open in shock.

Scales as black as pitch and outlined in azure light. A demonic-looking skull and a pronounced spinal cord with spikes lining the length of it.

Another Kaiju?

But that wouldn’t make any sense, seeing as it was holding the mouth of the Yoju open to keep it from eating you. The humanoid Kaiju effectively stood between you and the monster… Was it… Protecting you?

The creature turned its head slightly to look at you and winked. It winked!

“You might wanna get outta here, sweetheart, I’ll deal with this one.” Its voice was vaguely male-sounding yet demonic at the same time.

It could talk?!

That snapped you out of your shock, and you scrambled to your feet, holding your laptop bag to your chest as you sprinted around a corner just as the Kaiju readied a fist. You peeked back around the corner as the punch landed and quite literally exploded the Yoju on contact. You flinch back as organs and blood go everywhere. But it’s so quick that some of it gets on your sweater, effectively ruining it, as well as your slacks and shoes.

The blood begins to burn, but you pay little attention to it as a young man—no older than eighteen—with silvery white hair rounds a corner. His uniform exposes him as a member of the Defense Force. He holds the long rifle-like gun that all Defense Force members have. The man skids to a stop before the Kaiju but doesn’t shoot it.

“Senpai!” He chirps, and you watch as the Kaiju begins to change.

It shrinks in size, scales retracting into skin, and horns retreating into a head of spiky brown hair. Soon enough, a man stands before you in the same uniform, back to you.

“Yo! Ichikawa!” The man greets him in return

What.

The.

Hell?!

“Ichikawa” seems to hear something and turns to see you. His face drops in shock and surprise before darkening in anger. Though it wasn’t at you, it was at his “senpai.” The Kaiju-man-hybrid-thing notices the anger and turns around, spotting you. But he doesn’t seem angry. Instead, you watch his face light up in pure panic.

“I thought I told you to run!” He squawks awkwardly, and you stand on shaky legs, jabbing a finger at them.

“You never said how far! I thought around the corner was good enough!” You retort, though your knees shaking betray just how scared you are.

Would you be killed? This was clearly a closely guarded secret between the two of them.

Did the Defense Force know they had a Kaiju on their side?

Did anyone else know?

Ichikawa digs his foot into the man’s side in a ferocious kick and sends him stumbling.

“I thought I told you to make sure the area was clear of civilians before transforming!” He shouts, and you flinch at the vicious tone. Though the other man was clearly older than Ichikawa, he seemed to be in charge.

“But if I had to check the area every time I had to punch somethin’, nothing would ever get done!” The man whines, and Ichikawa simply sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Um…” The two men look at you, and you flinch again, your grip tightening on the laptop bag. “I won’t say anything, I promise. You don’t have to worry about me!” You manage to squeak out, and the older man looks at Ichikawa with bright eyes. You could practically see a puppy tail wagging behind him excitedly.

“See! We don’t have to worry about anything!” He exclaims, but Ichikawa isn’t convinced.

“How do I know we can trust you?” He says, eyes narrowed and brows pulled together in skepticism. You swallow thickly,

“Well… He saved my life. I’m indebted to him, and the least I can do is keep a secret.” You say, and Ichikawa stares, mildly surprised but relenting.

“Fine!” He says, turning on his heel to glare at his friend. The man spews apologies for revealing his identity to a civilian, but the duo doesn’t seem too upset about it.

You hiss in pain as adrenaline wears off, and you’re left in bloodstained clothes that are currently melting off your body. You high tail it to a nearby shelter where they provide a spare change of clothes. While you change and shower, you can’t help but think of the odd duo you met today.

You’d likely never see them again.

Right?

You stare at yourself in the mirror, adjusting your blazer for the millionth time, making sure your button-down is tucked into your slacks and scuffing your feet along the floor.

It was almost time.

It had been nearly six months since your interaction with Ichikawa and his friend (whose name you still didn’t know). You hadn’t seen them since then, but your life had changed drastically as a result.

You successfully graduated after defending your dissertation. Your research was making waves in the Defense Force and Kaiju-enthusiast community in general. So, you were summoned by the Defense Force to give a presentation to the officers about the importance of it. And today the presentation was to be given to the entire Defense Force.

You were only a little nervous. (You were bullshitting yourself, you felt like you were going to pass out.)

There is a knock on the office you had been stationed in, and you jump about a foot in the air.

“Yes?” Your voice is much more level than you expected. At least that was good. An officer peeks her head in,

“The Defense Force has been organized. They’re ready for you,” She says kindly. You swallow once, nod, and scoop up your laptop (which wasn’t damaged in the Yoju attack, thank the heavens) to follow her out.

The massive lecture hall reminds you of the enormous rooms professors would give lectures in back in graduate school and college. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were modeled after one another. Officers in their uniforms line the seats, most on their phones, but some chatted with one another. You even spotted the infamous Narumi Gen on some sort of gaming device.

Silence fell over the crowd as you were handed a microphone and tapped it a few times, making sure it worked, before introducing yourself. You heard a strangled noise come from the audience, but the lights facing you kept you from seeing who it was. You could see vague shapes of people, but that was it.

So, you don’t pay it any mind and start into your spiel that you had prepared. You introduce what the lecture will be about, your contact information (mainly email) if there are questions, and promptly launch into said lecture.

“And that concludes the lecture. Thank you, everyone, for your questions and for listening. I’ll be around the next couple of days gathering samples for research, so feel free to reach out and ask any other lingering questions!” You say and switch off the microphone, setting it down on the podium as well as the laser pointer. Most of the officers trickled out, with only a few staying behind to ask clarifying questions.

It wasn’t until you were shutting down your laptop and packing up your notes that the final people in the audience approached you. Everyone was long gone by now, save for…

“You!” You gape at the sight of the man and Ichikawa approaching you. They freeze midway up the steps to the stage. Ichikawa takes the initiative.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” He says as he bows. You rub the back of your neck awkwardly and bow your head in return.

“Only thanks to you two. I’m sorry, I didn’t get either of your names.” You say hesitantly, and both of them look at each other before introducing themselves.

“Ichikawa Reno.”

“Hibino Kafka!”

You can’t help but smile at Hibino’s enthusiasm and extend a hand for them to shake. Ichikawa shakes it first, his hold light but not wimpy by any means. In contrast, Hibino’s is firm and sturdy.

“Now, how can I help you both?” You ask, and Hibino looks somewhat embarrassed.

“We were just wondering if you told anyone…?” He trails off, but you know what he’s talking about.

“No. I kept my promise. No one knows save for whoever you’ve told.” You say quickly, eyes unconsciously looking around the room for any spare stragglers who might be listening in.

Luckily, no one is.

“So… You never really went into it in your lecture… But what did you major in in college?” Ichikawa asks as the three of you walk back to your office. Hibino thankfully badges you in, seeing as all the keys are electronic keycards, and you never received one. You set your bag down and sigh in relief. It was finally over and not as scary as you thought it would be.

“I graduated with a PhD in biomedical engineering with a specialty in Kaiju biology studies.” You explain as you slump into your office chair and tilt your head back. But not before you watch their faces pale at the idea of all the studying you had to do.

Which was a lot.

You laugh at their expressions and offer them a smile,

“It was a lot of work, but if I can help people, then it was worth it.”

Ichikawa Reno and Hibino Kafka become a staple in your life after that.

Even when your research into how Kaiju biology could help amputees and transplant recipients took off, they were there every step of the way.

Especially Hibino.

He was there at every lecture, asking questions and stimulating conversations amongst your peers. He allowed you to study him in his Kaiju form as his identity as Kaiju No. 8 was revealed to the rest of the Defense Force. No needles, of course. That was his only stipulation. (Who knew a man as powerful as him would be scared to death of needles?)

So, you settled for CT scans, MRIs, and other ways of study.

Hibino also took you out for meals when you were both on break at least twice a week. Ichikawa often tagged along, but more often than not, it was you and Hibino alone.

Today was a day that Ichikawa tagged along.

It was one of the rare days that he was able to come to visit from the Fourth Division while you and Hibino were stationed at the First Division. You weren’t employed by the Defense Force persay; you were actually employed by Izumo Tech while you furthered your research. But with Hibino stationed at the First Division, that was where you were allowed to go.

The diner was filled with American-style food. It was one of Hibino’s favorites in the area, so you usually indulged him when he allowed you to pay. (Which wasn’t often)

The waitress brought over your drinks just as Ichikawa arrived and sat down. You had taken the liberty of ordering him a drink that you hoped he’d like. This place was renowned for its smoothies, so he got a strawberry banana smoothie. Hibino ordered an alcoholic beverage of some kind, and you stuck with water.

“How’s research been going?” Ichikawa asks as the waitress brings over your food, and you all promptly dig in. The food was greasy but delicious. You hum through your mouthful, chew, and swallow before answering.

“Slowly, we’ve made some breakthroughs, but nothing special has come of it yet.” You say cryptically. You weren’t allowed to really disclose anything before it was published, so dancing around the topic was the best you could do.

Hibino didn’t really get the memo.

“We almost—” You lunged across the table. You shoved a hand over Hibino’s mouth before he could spill any critical information. If it got out that he said something, you could be fired, and your career would be ruined. Hibino was still talking, his beard scratching your hand as he tried to explain himself. You yank your hand back like you had been burned but silence him with a glare.

“You know you aren’t supposed to say anything!” You hiss, and he rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle.

“Sorry, I just get really excited hearing you talk about your work.” He mumbles.

That gets your blood boiling.

But not in anger.

In excitement.

No one liked hearing you talk about your work! Hell, even your parents' eyes would glaze over when you started talking about Kaiju biology and how it could help hundreds of people! But as you thought back on it… Hibino would be an active listener, sometimes even taking notes for you to clarify at a later date.

He listened to you.

Your face was burning, steam practically coming out of your ears in embarrassment. Hibino’s face mimicked yours as what he said caught up with him.

Ichikawa wasn’t impressed.

“Just kiss and get a room already!” He complains and gets up, tossing some paper bills down to cover his part of the meal, and goes to get a take-out box. He was clearly done with your antics.

Your face felt like a volcano erupting. But you couldn’t do much else other than look down at your lap.

“Y’know…” You look up as Hibino rubs the bottom half of his face, his voice barely above a mumble. As your rampant emotions cool off, you answer him.

“What?” Hibino’s face flushes even more red, and it isn’t the alcohol in his system.

“He isn’t exactly wrong… I mean… I’ve been wanting to take you out for a while… And not just to lunch!” He stammers through his sentence until you get a vague idea of what he’s asking.

“Hibino Kafka, are you asking me on a date?” You tease, mostly to hide your thundering heart. Hibino swallows thickly and nods,

“If you’ll date someone like me, that is…” A grin splits your face until your cheeks hurt, and you reach across to grab his hand.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” You say, and he stares for a few seconds before whooping in excitement.

“Hell yeah!” He shouts, and you duck your head in embarrassment.

“Oh! And you don’t have to call me Hibino anymore, y’know?” He cradles your hand in his larger one and swings it back and forth as you leave the diner. Ichikawa left a while ago, claiming you two were an embarrassment to be around. You can’t bring yourself to care.

Squeezing his hand in return, you lean your head on his arm and smile.

“Kafka it is, then.” You say, and he just grins.

#kafka hibino x reader #hibino kafka x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kafka x reader #kafka x you #kaiju no 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 #kafka hibino #hibino kafka #fairy writes

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thesunisatangerine · 1 year ago

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part eight

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.2k

words in italics: whatever language you like

“Make sure you stick close to your uncle the entire time and remember: if you don’t feel well or if, at any point, you want to leave, just tell Uncle Robert and he’ll get you out of there, okay?”

Elisa nodded as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

“Alright. Put on your headphones and follow your uncle.”

“Follow.” Elisa pronounced the word slowly, before she continued in English, “you said it wrong, Mom. You say it like this.”

Then she repeated the word again.

You smiled, nodded before you repeated the word for her. “Got it. Thanks, ladybug. Now go, I’ll catch you guys later.”

Tucking a loose hair behind her ear, you hugged Elisa one last time and placed a kiss on the top of her head before you let her go. She bounded to where Robert was standing, gave you one last enthusiastic wave, then you watched as they began to walk off to the direction of their seats.

Now that you were alone, faced with the corridor that lead down to the pitch, you took a deep breath, exhaled, and then with leaden legs you began to walk.

To say that you were nervous was an understatement; you were absolutely terrified. Not only because this was you first coverage after… after the last one, but also due to the fact that this would be the first time you were going to see Alexia in person since the night you left.

Alexia wouldn’t recognise you–no, she wouldn’t even know you were here–you saw to it. You asked Derek to register you under Jersey’s name because the client was none other than Alexia’s agent, a request that earned you a dirty look from Derek but he indulged you anyway. And as a precaution, you made sure to wear a face mask–an accessory that was met by a knowing, raised brow from Robert and a worried, ‘Are you sick, Mom?’ from Elisa–not to mention that your hair now was different compared to then.

No. Alexia wouldn’t recognise you; you were, after all, only a face among the many that adored her.

You kept walking, shielding your eyes from the brilliant stadium lights as you stepped foot on the grass.

Fifteen months. What good did that time do you? Just the mere thought of Alexia’s eyes suffused you with such burning ardour that neither a kiss nor touch from another could come close to her–there simply was no competition. You couldn’t even let another touch you the way she did because the act of kissing another’s lips was enough to incite guilt in you.

But why? How could Alexia still have this much hold over you after all this time? Was it because this was the first time you felt something deeper for someone, something that transcended the physical aspect of a relationship? Or was it the fact that the moment you let yourself be vulnerable, almost offered yourself completely, everything came crashing down? And now, you found yourself hung up on someone who had clearly moved on.

But, a small part of you reasoned, if Alexia had truly moved on, why still try to commission you? Why would she want you around? Maybe she… No. You shook your head firmly. That wasn’t possible.

Pain throbbed in your foot as it collided with the sponsor board that lined the spot you picked, earning you a few concerned glances from the nearby photographers who were already there. You cursed internally, dropping your bag to the ground, as you offered the others a sheepish smile and an apology. The pain brought you back to reality though, a reminder that you needed to get your mind out of the gutter and that you had a job to do.

You had weeks to prepare yourself for this. Everything would be okay. How hard could this be, really?

An hour passed and the stadium was filled to the brim with Spanish red and Brazilian yellow to witness the first match of each team for this tournament. Each nation’s supporters clapped and roared when the players began to run out to the pitch. And all the mental preparation you’d done for this left you completely.

The moment she stepped out of that tunnel and the stadium lights shone down on her, it felt like you only learnt how to breathe again. There Alexia stood: the slope of her shoulder familiar, the strength carved in the curves of her back looked stronger, and the lines of her arms just as inviting as they were the first time you met.

And those eyes, even if there were meters between you the weight in them–that low, burning fire–was all too apparent from where you stood.

Despite yourself, you found yourself smiling beneath your mask. She looked healthy; happy.

As the starting whistle breached through the chants of the crowd and resounded through the arena, you found yourself content–content at being an spectator of Alexia’s life, to watch her shine from afar, that was enough.

Parc des Princes. Sweden vs. Spain: The Clash of the Titans.

Not even two hours before kickoff and a significant crowd had already gathered by the entrance points of the stadium donning their respective supporter colours. It was no surprise to see such numbers very early on this fine Saturday evening because ever since the results from the dramatic Semi-Finals that saw Sweden and Spain through to the Finals, it was the talk of the town: the World’s Number One against the World Champions; both formidable in their own rights made them titans indeed.

And the question of who would emerge victorious would be answered tonight.

You saw firsthand how Spain brazenly blazed through this competition, knocking out their tougher competitions in the form of Germany and Japan in the Quarters and the Semis respectively in a similar fashion. They were a force to be reckoned with driven by their purpose and it made you more than proud to see how far they’d come.

Though it had been difficult you managed to remain undetected throughout the length of this tournament, something that you were truly grateful for. And after tonight, you could as easily slip out of Alexia’s world just as you had seamlessly gone in for the last time. The last thing you wanted to do was to jeopardise Spain’s chance at winning no matter how little an impact your presence would cause if you were discovered by Alexia.

But the thing was, you couldn’t lie and say you felt nothing as you watched Alexia from afar because you did: all the regret and desire… the longing; they were all there with you. More than once you found yourself wanting to run into her arms, to tell her you missed her, to let her know she saved you, to tell her… But you knew in your heart that that couldn’t be, so you allowed yourself this brief luxury, this silent, intimate appraisal of what and who she’d grown into even if she herself didn’t know it–you captured it all and to you that was more than enough.

As for Elisa she was nothing but ecstatic, a bundle of energy through and through. If you were being honest, you had doubted your decision to bring her with you because you didn’t know how being surrounded with tens of thousands of people would affect her even though she’d told you multiple times she could manage it. But to your relief, Elisa had immersed herself in the sport, blanketed herself in its atmosphere and in fact, she seemed to thrive in it. On the way home after each of Spain’s match you went to, Elisa would recount in vivid clarity all the instances she deemed to be highlights of the match–of course most of them were about Alexia which wasn’t a surprise considering how much she meant to her.

Elisa was enjoying herself and that, truly, brought you immense joy and comfort. She never asked you for it but you knew how Elisa badly wished to meet her inspiration, her and Robert had tried at the end of each match to stick around to meet her but so far, they had no luck.

No, Elisa never asked for you to do anything about it but that didn’t mean you couldn't try. You couldn’t quite think of how to go about it just yet but seeing as how the match before your eyes was the last, you knew your time to decide was beginning to run out.

The thing about football was that it was unpredictable, one minute it could be going your way, the next it could be the opponent’s; nothing was set in stone and anything could happen.

It was nearing the forty-minute mark, the scoreline was still down at all nil, when Aitana sent the ball lobbing from the middle, just at the edge of the penalty box, into one of Sweden’s goalposts for Alexia who’d already made her surge forwards. In response, Zećira Mušović dove for the nearest post, just about managing to grab the ball as it landed a few paces in front of Alexia’s feet but the ball went out of play as it slipped from her grip. Alexia was going too fast though and your heart jumped in your chest with worry as Alexia leaped over Mušović’s prone form, barely avoiding a collision with the Swedish goalkeeper, before she ended up slamming against the sponsor board and–

Suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs as your back slammed to the ground and the back of your head throbbed with a dull ache that made you groan. And then you felt the warm weight pressed against you, dangerously familiar and way too close for comfort but it was gone before you could open your eyes. When you did you found honey-coloured eyes that you knew all too well as Alexia regarded you with concern.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Alexia asked, her ragged breathing made her accent all the more pronounced, and she took both of your hands in hers to help you to your feet. You tried hard not to think about the warmth of her palms on your skin–in fact, you hardly had any thoughts at all–and your throat was so parched you could only nod at her question.

Only once you got back on your feet did you notice Alexia had gone stock still. The sudden change in her demeanour worried you at first, especially when she hadn’t let go of your hands yet, and then confusion settled in. That was when you realised her attention was zeroed in on the string around your right wrist… at the bracelet she made you, the one you couldn’t bear yourself to part with.

Your eyes widened and you snatched your hands back, shielding your wrist from view with your other hand but you knew it was already too late. Alexia now looked at you, the concern in her gaze now shone together with… something else, eyes red as unshed tears clung to her lashes.

“You…” Alexia’s voice low–restrained–as her throat bobbed and her chin quivered.

The sound of the whistle barely registered in your mind and Alexia looked like she hadn’t heard it too, her eyes remained glued to you as if she’d seen a ghost. Then Aitana was by her side, hand around her arm as Aitana attempted to tug her back into the game but she just wouldn’t budge. Aitana regarded you briefly, the clear confusion in her eyes difficult to miss, before she tried to coax her captain away again.

“Alexia. Go.” You said as you gently pushed Alexia away with a hand on her stomach. She flinched from your touch–and her reaction really shouldn’t hurt this much but it did anyway–so you quickly retracted your hand away. Only after that did Alexia finally let herself be pulled away by Aitana but not without staring at you as she went.

This was bad. Out of all the times that this could happen, why now?

You picked up your camera, the fact that it was intact offered you little comfort, and the urge to run away pervaded you. You so desperately wanted to pack everything and leave, allow Elisa to enjoy the match and maybe just sit this one out in the crowd with her. Alexia didn’t need to know.

The thought was tempting.

But with clenched fists, you stayed.

A moment later, the Swedish supporters roared when Spain conceded a goal during extra time which left them now down to one goal. Spain still had enough time to try and equalise, and their chance was given in the form of a penalty.

Alexia stepped up but Mušović denied her a goal and your heart ached from the way Alexia shook her head, dejected as she looked up at the sky.

The halftime whistle blew and you watched as the players walked towards the tunnel entrance but, your eyes widened when you saw her, Alexia was making her way towards you, stride long and with purpose. Her face was neutral but the way her lips was pressed in a thin line revealed that she was anything but calm.

Oh, fuck.

You didn’t even have time to compose yourself–or do anything, really–because before you knew it, Alexia had leaped over the sponsor board, gripped the monopod with your camera and ripped it away from your hand. A protest left your lips but it was quickly cut off when you felt her other arm around your waist, pulling you to her with a strength that left you breathless. And when you felt her front pressed firmly against your own and her warmth immediately seeped into your bones, everything melted away–the flutter of camera shutters, the roar of the crowd–your world became Alexia entirely.

Everything just fell rightly into place. It felt like coming home.

Alexia didn’t say anything, just craned her neck so she could rest her head against your shoulder. At first you were frozen, your arms still and left hanging by your side, but as you felt the way Alexia’s ribs expand and the way her heartbeat jumped through her jersey, you came back to yourself and finally, you slid your arms around her, your hands immediately finding purchase in the small of her back.

You gripped her jersey as you sank into her embrace, pressing your cheek against her collarbone, and god, what did you do right in this lifetime–or the last–to have her back in your arms like this? You breathed her in and you nearly sobbed at the intimate familiarity of her scent.

“Alexia, I–” You began but you shook your head. So instead, you choked out, “Alexia, you shouldn’t be here.”

Silence was the only answer and Alexia seemed to cling all the more tightly to you after the words left your mouth. And you could feel it, the despondency in the slope of her back as if they already had lost the match. Guilt ate away at you. You did this, didn’t you?

“Listen to me, Ale. Your team is waiting for you. They need their Captain, Alexia. They need you.”

At those words, Alexia only buried herself further into you as if she wanted herself to disappear completely. Then she spoke in a voice so small you could barely recognise it was her talking.

“I messed up. I… I can’t be what they need me to be right now. I feel weak.”

You recognised this, the familiar shadow of doubt that tinged Alexia’s thoughts and marred her confidence. Although rare to rear its head, its venom was lethal when it did, attacking her weakest parts, right where it hurt the most.

Cradling the nape of her neck with a gentle hand, you let her fall all the more closer to you and you whispered softly, but firm in the way you enunciate the words, to get your message through to her.

“‘The match is not won until the last second is lost.’ Alexia, isn’t that what you told me? You can't just give up now. You can't lose faith in your teammates right now." Alexia’s breath hitched at your words, her arm around your waist tightened. You continued, “your strength is their strength, and theirs are yours. I used to tell you, remember? You're so strong but it's not all yours to carry, Alexia. You're only human but that doesn't make you weak. Have faith in them... have faith in you."

You turned your head just so so you could rest your temple against the line of her jaw before you said, “now go, Alexia. Your team needs you.”

Alexia leaned in to your touch and sighed. She nodded and finally she loosened her grip but before she fully extricated herself from you, she said in a raw voice but not with malice, “I’m still mad at you.”

You couldn’t help it, the small laugh that bubbled out of your throat as you rested your forehead against her shoulder.

“Fair enough. You can be mad at me all you want later but right now, you have a match to win.”

She pulled away and you finally saw her eyes. Albeit red and raw around the edges, the hazel in them shone with a familiar brilliance, a hungry fire undiminished by the tears in her eyes. You longed to dry her tears but Alexia did it herself, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes. She handed you back your camera, hand lingering on your right wrist as she brushed the pad of her thumb over the string there, gave you one last look and a nod, before she jumped over the sponsor board and sprinted to the tunnel entrance, the crowd roaring as she went past them.

At her departure, the rest of the world came back to focus: the stadium, the screaming fans, the blare of the halftime music… the cameras pointed at you, from the broadcasting channels to the phones of the fans on the stands; you were the subject of all their eyes, all their lenses. Even when you glanced at your fellow photographers, most of them had their cameras pointed at you, some looked at you with passing curiosity while some stared at you as if you’d grown an extra pair of head.

Your ears and cheeks warmed at the attention, gut coiling uncomfortably as you adjusted your face mask, something that you were all the more grateful for especially after that little public display from Alexia. You kept your head down as you walked the length of the sideline towards Sweden’s goal for the next half, and you tried your hardest to ignore the weight of the stares by pretending to tend to your equipment.

Then you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You fished it out and found a message from Robert.

‘That was… pretty public. Are you feeling alright?’

You looked up, tried to pick out Elisa and Robert from the crowd but when you couldn’t, you typed out your reply.

‘I’m fine, thank you. How are the both of you?’

‘Well, Elisa’s just about as ecstatic as any child who found out that their mom knows their favourite football player. She’s been asking questions non-stop, I don’t even know how to answer them all. Please help.’

Despite your situation, you chuckled at the image of Elisa pestering her uncle.

‘Tell her she can save her questions for me later. Don’t say anything else.’

‘Okay, thank you. And hang in there.’

The loud cheers from the crowd drew your attention away from your phone and upon looking up, found that the players had begun entering the pitch. Automatically, your viewfinder was to your eye, framing the players as they went and taking a shot.

Alexia was last to step foot on the field and you didn’t miss the way she looked over the last spot she saw you and when she couldn’t find you there, her head swivelled around as she jogged to her position in the opposite half. She found you eventually and even with fifty meters between you, the intensity of her stare reached you. It made you shiver–hopeful in spite of yourself–but when the whistle cut through the air once more, you readied your camera, breath held for what was yet to come.

The game went on and you were so focused on trying to do your job that you couldn’t keep up with the details but the fact was this: no matter how hard Spain pressed forward, Sweden’s defensive effort increased twofold, and whenever Spain played deep to keep Sweden in check, Sweden prodded forward, constantly chipping away at Spain’s defensive line with each effort.

After Sweden’s attempt at Spain’s goal came an opportunity. One minute Cata had the ball in hand, the next the ball was by Alexia’s feet who took one touch before she passed it between two defenders to Salma who was waiting past the halfway line, who then dribbled the ball into Sweden’s penalty area, then she cut it back and crossed it to Aitana who angled her run just enough to tap the ball in.

One-one.

The crowd roared to life and Spain’s fire was reinvigorated. They had eleven minutes left of normal play to score another goal and win. Both teams clashed, gave their all throughout the remaining time, then through to additional and extra time.

Now the moment of truth: a penalty shootout at Sweden’s goal.

Your palms began to sweat, nervous for Alexia. When was she taking her penalty?

Spain went first. They got it in. Sweden as well. One-one.

Then it was two–two.

Spain got their third. Sweden took their shot but Cata deflected it.

Mušović stepped up this time and blocked Spain’s fourth. Cata, again, anticipated right and denied Sweden their own.

You drew in a staggered breath as Alexia began to walk. Once she got to the ball, she flicked it up with her foot and caught it easily with her hands. Click. Through the lens, you watched as Alexia turned the ball over then placed it right by the penalty spot. Click. Then she began fixing her socks, adjusting her shoes, brushed her left ankle with her thumb–click– and she leant back up, resting her hands by her waist as she waited for the whistle. You zoomed in on her face: she was stoic, calm as she eyed the goal, beads of sweat lined her forehead and the bridge of her nose–click.

The whistle blew.

Alexia took five steps back, one step to her right. She took two short strides forward and on the third, her left foot connected with the ball. The net moved with an audible swish from the power behind her kick, depositing the ball in the bottom right corner of the goal and the crowd roared–or was it you who was screaming?–as the rest of Spain’s team ran to their captain to hug her.

Spain won.

Photo after photo, you captured Spain as they celebrated, their cheers and victorious cries. And when each member of Spain’s team walked the stage to receive their golden medals, the feeling that surged through you was something else entirely.

The celebration went on but as the crowd thinned and the live broadcast ended, anxiety filled you once again. You tried to keep track of where Alexia was but she’d been surrounded by so many people that you lost her in the celebration. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you packed up your things but kept your camera out as you hung about at the edge of the pitch near the stands.

And then you heard it.

“Mom!”

You turned to the sound and found Elisa who was leaning against the safety rail of the stands just off to the side of the tunnel entrance, an enthusiastic arm waving in the air as she grinned at you. Beside her was Robert who, too, was leaning on the railing with his elbows who gave you a small wave as you jogged over to them, pushing your face mask down on the way.

“Elisa, ladybug, careful you might fall!” You reprimanded but a smile made its way on your lips all the same and either way, your words fell on deaf ears as Elisa excitedly bounded up and down.

“Mom! Did you see that?! That was so intense! And did you see how Alexia just went,” Elisa imitated Alexia’s strike and an affectionate laugh bubbled out your throat at her display, “and it was the best!”

Then Elisa stilled, eyes widening as she looked past you. “Oh my god, Mom, it’s–”

“‘Mom?’”

It was Alexia but her voice was almost unrecognisable because of how flat it sounded. You whipped your head back and surely, the expression Alexia wore accentuated the barely hidden animosity but it wasn’t directed at you nor Elisa. Rather, you found her glaring up at Robert and at his hand resting on the railing where the gold band on his finger was visible–glinting.

You looked at Alexia, whose demeanour was souring by the second, then at Robert who looked paler than you’d ever seen him before, then to Alexia again.

Oh, no.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: manifesting for spain to get through the qualifiers and then win the olympics #also an extra round of apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes for this one #hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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artisticxlly · 18 days ago

Note

MY TURN!!! Trick or treat my dear friend :D

Ceceeeee, a dear Kagehina enthusiast! Whatever shall I do /s

A shorter one (my dearest apologies), but here's some sweet airport reunion fluff!

Kageyama frequently glanced back from his phone to the signs around him, rubbing his eyes.

Hinata had been kind enough to write down what words Kageyama had to look for, but navigating Brazil's airport was no less overwhelming despite it.

Getting away from the crowd he took a moment to recollect, looking out for the exit Hinata would be waiting at.

Apparently, his friend Hector would be tagging along with him since he owned a car. And wanted to meet this 'boyfriend' Hinata was always talking about.

It quieted down a bit once most people scattered in their directions so Kageyama took off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck. 'Exit 5...' Kageyama mumbled to himself, finally finding the right word on one of the signs. He grabbed his bags and walked off, following some other people.

"I'm nervous, you think he still recognises me?" Hinata asked Heitor, looking up at his friend, who grinned. "You haven't grown that much. Plus, you stand out with red hair."

Hinata hummed, leaning back in the metal seat to try and relax. There were people coming in now, were they from the same flight as Kageyama?

"That him?" Heitor nudged him and pointed to one guy trailing behind, squinting at his surroundings with mild curiosity.

"Shit, yeah, it is." Hinata grinned. "Kageyama! Over here idiot!" He yelled in Japanese, the man perking up immediately. He scanned the hall, and his eyes landed on Hinata. Hinata grinned from ear to ear when he changed his direction to go straight towards them.

"Go on, meet him half way." Heitor encouraged and Hinata jumped up from his seat, sprinting towards the other. Kageyama walked in his direction as well, arms open with one still holding onto his bags.

They crashed together, Hinata laughing as Kageyama caught himself, stumbling a few steps back. Hinata wrapped his arms around his neck, hugging him tight.

"Nice receive." He joked, Kageyama hugging him with one arm across his back. "Been a while since I've seen you fly." The words hit something deep in Hinata's core. He had missed the other a lot, it was like getting a piece of home back.

"Hey." They parted slightly and Kageyama was smiling. Smiling warmly, so unlike what Hinata was used to.

He kissed him without thought. Kageyama's hold on him loosened a bit, lowering him down on the ground. Hinata's stomach did flips when Kageyama kissed back, his arm hugging Hinata's broad shoulders.

They part when steps sounded out behind them, Heitor having gotten up from his seat as well.

Hinata giggled at the blush across Kageyama's face.

"Heitor, this is Kageyama." Hinata said in Portuguese. "Kageyama, this is Heitor, my roommate." He then continued in Japanese.

"Ah, it's uhh... Nice to... Meet you." Kageyama said, in badly pronounced yet even more endearing Portuguese. Heitor laughed and offered Kageyama a handshake, which the other accepted. "Nice to meet you too." He spoke in Japanese, which was pretty solid in pronounciation. Thanks to his very enthusiastic tutor.

Heitor then turned to Hinata. "He's quite handsome. Lucky you!" He ruffled Hinata's hair. Kageyama couldn't understand the compliment as it was spoken in Portugese, but Hinata blushed nonetheless.

---

🍬 Happy trick or treat'ing!

#short but sweet one #sigh #i need to write more of them #they mean the world to me #kagehina #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #brazil hinata #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #my fics

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namjuicyy · 2 years ago

Text

When Namjoon meets you in a bakery, he never expected to become so obsessed with you.

Namjoon x reader

Strangers to lovers, inspired by You on Netflix.

25+

Word count: 13.8k

Wattpad | Masterlist

WARNINGS: Stalking, non-con, panty fetish, voyeurism, daddy kink, slut shaming, degradation (I mean serious degradation, these are not soft words at all these are borderline feminist issues), power play, use of the word bitch, lesbian phone sex, masturbation, pillow humping, hidden cameras, sex toys, somnophilia, choking, face-slapping, under – non-negotiated kinks, dom/sub, predator/prey, begging, pain kink, lack of foreplay, lack of aftercare (briefly), penis-in-vagina sex, unprotected sex, free-use kink, breeding kink, dacrophilia, size kink, Namjoon has a big dick (wbk), cuckolding (shiiiiit we getting all these kinks in this fic Jesus!), overstimulation, oral sex (f receiving), fear play, a panic attack, obscene use of the word "cunt" (it's actually my favourite word, I think), manipulation, switch!Reader; forced submission, cock-stepping, ruined orgasm,

This story is kind of dark and also kind of creepy. In real life scenarios, this kind of behaviour is never acceptable but as this is a work of fiction it should be treated as such. I am not glamorising or romanticising stalking or any of the more damaging tags that this fic is associated with. Basically, don't do it. It's creepy and weird. Always make sure kinks are fully negotiated before you put them into practice, and also don't stalk people. That isn't okay. And if you are going through that right now, please know that there are so many resources available to make sure you are safe. But also please take care of yourself. I am also not associating Namjoon with any of these traits in real life. Nor am I assuming his real-life sexuality. I reiterate, this is a work of fiction, nothing more. If you are triggered by any of the above tags, DO NOT read this fic. Your mental health is far more important than a story.

Words mentioned in the fic that aren't featured anywhere except The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, John Koenig (I'm testing the waters here so please bear with me):

Ghough: n. A hollow place in your psyche that can never be filled, a bottomless hunger for more food, more praise, more attention, more joy, more sex, more money, more hours of sunshine; a sense of panic that everything good will be taken from you too early, which makes you swallow the world before it ends up swallowing you. Onomatopoeic to the sound of a devouring maw. Pronounced "hawkh", with air drawn sharply inward through the mouth.

He couldn't help that he was so obsessed with you. It was your fault really... you shouldn't be so intoxicating that you'd cause his brain to overload with nothing but thoughts of you. You came into his life like an atom bomb, tearing a hole through his planet to the point where he never thought he would recover. All you did was smile at him and ask him if he wanted a bag to carry his pastries home with. But your smile was so pulchritudinous, so enslaving, your hair messy and disheveled from your hardworking nature, and flour all over your sweet face; he was a goner at the very second. He glanced at your nametag and memorised the spelling with such speed he was barely out of the bakery before he'd begun to search for you on social media. The worst part about it all was the fact that he wanted to know so much more about you but didn't want to concern you. He knew that men had a tendency to come on too strong and that you'd probably be on your guard. He wanted you to be at ease with him, to realise that he was the only one who could keep you happy for the rest of your life. If that meant he had to treat you delicately then so be it. Fragile you were, and careful he'd be. He was in it for the long haul, a true gentleman of the modern era.

All he really wanted to know was your work times. He just wanted to know when he'd come into the store and bump into you. Honestly, he had no intention of searching for anything else, except maybe some of the things that you enjoyed so he could strike up a natural conversation with you. But that was it – scout's honour. He discovered from your social media that you were an avid baker, who loved working at the local bakery not because it was a temporary source of income until something better came along, but because this was the better option for you. Sure, you were paid just above the minimum wage, but this was your lifelong passion, and you prided yourself on putting your happiness first. He also unveiled that you had plans to become a business owner yourself, bringing in your main source of income while just doing your hobby. It was a smart idea really – who wanted a job they hated when they could be paid well for what they loved? You were a smart woman. A true unicorn in a field of horses. He decided there and then that you were his soulmate. And as he sat in the park, scrolling through your social media profile and discovering more about you, he was sure the pastries you baked him were the best he'd ever eaten.

He came into the bakery around two days later at the exact time when you would be working. Unfortunately, though, this time your co-worker was manning the till for you, allowing you to hide in the kitchens and not venture into the main room. Last time your co-worker was on a break, which was why you looked so frazzled and stressed. You Tweeted about how the batch that was baking at the time Namjoon entered the premises had burned because you were trying to do everything. Your co-worker was useless anyway. They never helped you. You were running that business as if it were your own. He needed to cause some kind of distraction to get you out there so he could talk to you. But what could he do sneakily? If he caused a scene – you'd panic. He couldn't bear being the cause of one of your anxiety attacks. He also didn't want to fake complain about anything because he knew you'd panic and think you weren't good enough. And he couldn't be the reason that you'd never realise your dream and your full potential. Compliments were good... maybe he could try and pass on a message... but it would be better coming from him and not your idle assistant. If he told her to tell you something, he would have no doubt it would go in one ear and out the other. No, he had to do it in person.

He stepped forward and looked at her nametag. "Excuse me, Emma. Could you grab the chef for me? I would like to compliment her work."

Emma gave him a look that called him peculiar. "Chef? What do you think this is, a restaurant?"

Namjoon simply smiled. "And you're like... twelve?"

A voice came from the kitchens. "Emma, take a break." Emma didn't reply. She only rolled her eyes, picked up her phone and made her way to the back room. Namjoon turned to look at the voice, only to discover it was you.

You were much more put together than the last time he saw you – clearly your day wasn't quite as hectic as it was two days ago. Not that he minded your tousled appearance. On the contrary, he found it cute and endearing, but there was no doubt that you were a Venus on Earth. An eighth wonder of the world that lay undiscovered in the quiet city you both called home. There was a light dusting of flushed pink nestled on your cheeks to indicate some hard work, but not enough to make you break into a sweat. Your hair was back off your face, allowing him to marvel at your refinement. Poised, bright, bubbly, with a smile that could knock anyone off their feet. He was falling for you and falling so fast he wondered just how hard the impact would be when he landed.

Suddenly, you spoke again. Your soft voice dancing into his ears and lifting his spirits just a little more. Oh, how sweet you sounded. "How can I help you, sir?"

Oh, how can you help me indeed, he thought to himself. Wistful thoughts catching him off guard and seemingly turning into a brand-new person. "I-I don't know if you remember me," he was finally able to choke out, "I was here two days ago... I bought some pastries."

You smiled. Of course, he'd buy pastries, this was a bakery after all. "I remember you."

You did? He was sure you were lying to make him feel better. You did, after all, house the kindest heart in your chest. There was no mistaking you wouldn't want him to feel awkward or upset. "Oh, you do? Well, I hadn't been here before and I just wanted to thank you for making such delicious treats. I really enjoyed them! They were my favourites – the best I'd eaten in a long time." Mentally he scolded himself for saying the words delicious treats aloud. Why was he talking so formally to you? And why did it make him sound like an elderly man? It was weird and it made him cringe. You made him so nervous he became overly polite. Why would you bewitch him in such a way he couldn't form sentences without seeming like a creep?

Wait... was that a smile he saw? "How did you know it was me who baked them?" Were you teasing him? There was no doubt you were playful; he knew it from finding your friend's posts about you. He watched you goof around with them with such a childlike freedom. It was wonderful to see you so extricated and alive.

It was his turn to tease, "I'd never mistake a gorgeous face."

You blushed. He'd won. "Well, that's very kind of you to say so, thank you."

"I was wondering if I could get your number?" He bluntly asked, still feeling so shy despite his obvious charm working on you. "I would love to thank you properly for creating such a memorable experience with a memorable experience of my own."

"Oh? And what would this memorable experience be?"

He smiled, "Well, if I told you then you wouldn't want to come. There's nothing wrong with a little mystery, especially for a first date."

Your smile dimmed slightly as you considered your response, no doubt weighing up your options quickly to ensure your safest and most comfortable option. "Of course. Here you are." You gave him your number on a napkin and told him to call you.

The thing you didn't realise was, he had already found and saved your number into his phone. He was just hoping for permission to call you.

Namjoon had scheduled a date for you both the following weekend on your first day off. He had made sure that you had no plans written on your Google calendar, but of course, he couldn't just come out and say that he knew you even had a Google calendar, let alone your schedule. But he just couldn't wait a week to see you. He was buzzing with teenage excitement, lovesick nerves and anxiety that the whole day should go as exactly to plan, and that you had such a good time you would have no reason to not fall in love with him as he had with you. He was aware you wouldn't experience love at first sight. He was convinced he wasn't much of a looker himself, but he knew he had the personality of someone you could hold very close to your heart. You needed time to see how perfect he was for you. And while he was willing to wait for you to fall for him, he refused to wait to see you.

He hadn't been to work in a few days, calling in and telling his boss he had some kind of stomach bug and it was best he stayed home for a while. His boss, like the fool he was, believed Namjoon and told him to take all the time he needed. Of course, Namjoon had no plans to be away for so long, but every day he kept finding himself being drawn to this one place in particular... your house.

Your low income meant that you lived in a small flat in a run-down building just off the main road. You were a few metres away from the nearest bus stop, and the bus that ran near your house wasn't convenient enough to be considered a main route, therefore the price of your rent went down to a mere three hundred per month. Well, the routes were only a small contributor. The biggest was that your neighbourhood was filled with crime. As soon as he discovered this, he became anxious for your safety. Of course, you'd lived there for long enough without him in your life, but the second it was appropriate he would whisk you away to the nicer part of town, nearby your brand-new bakery.

You were on the first floor, and he could see your place through the window on the street. You didn't have any curtains; you were practically inviting him inside. Though, of course, the true reason was that you preferred the natural light and curtains blocked that from you. Even so, you seemed to not care about your possessions or your privacy which was concerning given your location. God, he wanted to be in there with you, feeling your warm body tangled up next to his, snuggled close together on the sofa and watching some kind of trashy show on the television. Something you, especially, were particularly fond of. He had no taste for that rubbish, but for you he'd watch anything.

The days passed so quickly, and Namjoon was shocked to wonder just where they went. Every day he came to your house and watched you live your life, even after your very successful first date. He was still drawn to you. Sometimes he would text you to see your reaction to him, and oh, how it warmed his heard to watch you dive across your living room to get to your phone, and how brightly you smiled when you saw it was him. You acted as though you missed him. You were starting to fall for him too, he could feel it.

There was a burglary in your neighbourhood just two hours after he left your home, and when he heard the news break from one of his colleagues when he finally returned to work, he immediately left to go to your house. He didn't remember what the excuse was he gave his boss. Quite frankly, he didn't care. He needed to know that your place wasn't next.

In his haste, he forgot that you were still at work, which gave him the mental justification to figure out just how safe your house was from intruders. He had to know that you were safe and well protected. He wasn't breaking into your house... not really. He was just testing the home his future wife temporarily called hers. And there absolutely was nothing wrong with that. And it was just as he feared it would be: easy. Namjoon was beside himself. Did you not care about your safety and wellbeing like he did? Did you want people to break into your house? It sure seemed that way given the ease in which your door opened for him, and the lack of curtains hanging from your living room wall. You were inviting anyone to look in, to come in. Maybe that was what you wanted. Maybe there was something dark and twisted inside your innocent head that wanted something bad to happen to you. Maybe you got off to the idea.

And suddenly that was all he could think about. Thoughts consumed him of him breaking into your house and doing as he pleased with your body. His body. How he could play with you while you slept, how he could touch your skin without you knowing. How he could take you any which way he pleased, and you wouldn't have a goddamn say in it. You'd just have to be a pliant girl and take what you were given. Yes. Yes! Fuck, his hand felt good around his cock as he stroked it quickly, picturing your writhing body underneath him. The glint in your eye that was slightly fearful, but mostly full of desire. He knew that your tight, wet heat would feel so much better than his hand, but he just couldn't resist. What if instead of finding you asleep in bed, he found you on the couch? Him being so desperate for you he'd take you then and there. Not bothering to remove your clothes or his for that matter. Just pulling his cock out, moving your panties to the side and fucking into you with reckless abandon. Tugging your bra down to give your perfect breasts the room they needed to bounce uncontrollably with every thrust. Fuck. Taking you in front of the window. Making sure your neighbours saw the man who claimed you. Yes. Mine. Mine! "Mine!"

He came all over your coffee table. His seed pooling on the wood and dripping down onto the laminate floor. Thankfully it was easy to clean and wouldn't leave an unwelcome stain when it was removed. But he couldn't remove it now. He was too tired. Too worked up. The first time he thought of you sexually and he violated himself in your very living room. It was unforgivable yet addicting.

This became a regular occurrence for him. He'd wait until you'd left the house then make his way inside, just so he could be near you – feel you surrounding him. Breathing you in like you were his oxygen. He wouldn't always stay in your living room. Sometimes he'd nap on your bed and envelope himself in your sheets. Sometimes he'd imagine you masturbating for him on the bed, and he'd make himself cum while burying his face in your pillow, praying you rode it multiple times. But that dirty thought gave him an idea... your panties. When he used your bathroom one time, he saw your almost full laundry basket. Yet for some reason, his dumb mind didn't comprehend the fact that your angelic pussy had been caged in some of the fabric, that it would smell like you. He touched himself while he had your panties pressed to his nose, or his tongue rolling over fabric just so he could get the smallest taste of you. He imagined the real thing. Your hands in his hair, your screams of pleasure, the begging you'd do for more. Fuck, he was obsessed with you!

However, one day something unexpected happened: you came home early. He had no idea why you'd come home early – this wasn't your usual pattern of behaviour. You were usually consistent and reliable, yet here you were making the steps to your bedroom while he was standing in it, cock in his hand and jerking it while licking a pair of your panties he'd stolen from the bathroom. To say Namjoon panicked would be an understatement. He knew the implications of his current standing, and the consequences of him being caught. He needed to think fast. You were so close to the bedroom now. His only option was to hide in your closet and pray you didn't come home to change.

Luckily for him, that wasn't the reason you came home.

You were on the phone to someone, but he couldn't tell who it was. He hadn't memorised your calling behaviour yet, so he couldn't tell if you were talking to family, or if this was a business call. Though, when he heard your giggle, and saw the way in which you lay on your bed, this was definitely not a business call.

Your legs spread as soon as your back touched the plush surface of your bed, and instantly, you moaned. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, secretly watching you from the closet as you removed your panties and rolled your skirt up. He couldn't quite catch a glimpse of your pussy from the angle he was at, but that didn't matter too much for him. He saw your hand dip into the wetness of your cunt to pull up and lubricate your clit, giving it a few tentative strokes before speaking. "Daddy, you're such a tease. Please let me."

As soon as he heard the word 'daddy', he wanted to come out of the closet, turn you onto all fours and pound into you while Daddy was still on the phone. Wanted the dirty pervert on the other end of the line to hear that the woman he was speaking to belonged to someone else. Wanted to hear the primal way in which Namjoon railed his princess. Though, he had to admit, hearing the word 'daddy' being moaned from your plump lips introduced a brand-new kink in him. He wanted you to call him that. He was going to be your daddy.

But one thing he didn't know was how much of a whore you were. He didn't know that you were dating him and had another man on the side. Who was this man? And why did he get most of your attention? As of that moment, he tried not to think too much of it, as your perfect breasts were released from the confines of your bra. His cock, he realised, never went soft. In fact, more blood rushed to it as he watched you play with yourself for another man. As he watched you strip quickly so you were incredibly naked for this person who couldn't even see you. Fuck, your body was just as perfect as he imagined it would be – in fact, it was better than he imagined. He was going crazy.

You moaned and put the phone on speaker. "No please, Daddy. Let me do it. Let me rub my pussy."

A voice came from the other end of the phone, and it certainly put some shock into Namjoon. "Okay, angel. I want you to take a pillow in between your beautiful legs and rub yourself on it. Imagine it's my pussy." A woman? You were having phone sex with a woman – and you called her 'Daddy'? Fucking hell, Namjoon almost came prematurely. You were very quiet about your sexuality online, so he didn't come to expect that you were at the very least bi-curious. He watched you manoeuvre your pillows to a comfortable degree before placing your pussy over the top. Your hips began to move and you let out an incredibly loud moan. No doubt finally feeling good at the relief you were able to experience.

"Daddy, your pussy feels so good against me."

"You like it, baby? Fuck, I wish we were on video call. I wanna see how good you look rubbing against your pillow like a dumb slut."

A cheeky smile passed on your lips as you picked the phone up. Namjoon watched you hide the calling screen and move to take a video. You were filming yourself for your Daddy to tease her. You were a wildcard, and Namjoon hadn't bet on it. One day, he knew you were going to treat him like this too, and he wasn't sure if he was actually ready for it. There were so many times where he thought he was going to cum, he had to pause and just watch you before the lack of stimulation was unbearable. You were so loud for Daddy, there was no doubt the neighbours could hear you, too. Namjoon wondered how many of them were also touching themselves while listening to your heavenly moans. All the more reason to fuck you in front of the window. Remind them that you're not to be touched. He thought, squeezing his balls. He watched as your hips moved faster, heard as your moans grew louder, and came on your closet door when you soaked your pillow.

As it turned out, you were quite partial to touching yourself and did it so frequently that you knew exactly how to please yourself. And Namjoon wished he could always time his visits when you would be touching yourself so he could have his live show again and again. And knowing he missed so much of you already had prompted him to purchase a series of cameras. They were tiny things that could be hidden easily, even in plain sight, and so he did. The main bulk of the cameras were hidden in the two rooms you spent most of your time: the living room and the bedroom.

It became his routine to monitor them at the end of the day before bed. He'd watch you almost on a live stream during the weekend, so he didn't miss a thing, and coincidentally was also the time that you came alive. What he hadn't anticipated was that your personal escapades were in no way exclusively tied to the bedroom, and in fact, sometimes you'd just stuff your pussy full while watching TV. You'd spread your legs and prop them up on the coffee table, and mindlessly pound away, letting the dildos get bigger and bigger each time you no longer felt satisfied. You didn't always hit orgasm every time you used them, but Namjoon certainly did. He thanked his lucky stars he bought cameras with microphones, because he might have lost his mind if he didn't hear you. So many hours of you playing with yourself, so much content for him to jerk off to. He couldn't quite believe it.

He experimented with you a few times without you knowing it. Sometimes he'd text you while you were in the middle of fucking yourself, asking about what you were up to or trying to start a conversation. He was surprised to see you continue to play with yourself while texting him with a completely innocent smile on your face where you were so happy to hear from him. Other times he'd call you. He never expected you to answer the phone, but sometimes you did. If he wasn't watching you take in a cock that was above the average size, he would assume that you were doing nothing. You were able to hide the pleasure in your voice so well from him, but he could always see your face screwed up in ecstasy. Or even mouthing the occasional expletive to cope with the incredible bliss you were feeling. It wasn't even as if you were going easy on yourself, sometimes you were bouncing on the cock you'd wedged in between the couch cushion or suctioned to the laminate floor.

Despite you both dating for almost a month, he was yet to be officially invited into your house, or into your pussy. He tried – subtly, but the attempt was still there. But you weren't having it. It wasn't that you didn't want to. In fact, Namjoon had audible and visual proof that sometimes you would bounce on an above-average cock and call out his name. He wanted to know what you were thinking of during those times: what you imagined him doing to you. He hoped it was the same as what he'd imagined. But of course, he'd never force that on you. Traumatising you was the last thing he wanted. So he bade his time, waiting for the day that you gave him the honour.

He was invited into your house before you allowed him to sleep with you. The two of you went out to drink one Saturday night, and you got more wasted than he did. But, of course, he was a gentleman. He took you home and got you to bed. He would never take advantage of you. He didn't touch you inappropriately or force you to do anything he wanted you to do. Even when you made a grab for his crotch and begged him for it. He wanted your first time together to be completely sober so you'd both remember it. It didn't stop him from getting hard, though, and it certainly never stopped him from stroking his cock over your sleeping body, remembering what it was like to ever so briefly feel your touch in the area he wanted it the most.

He watched your eyes flicker and heard your sleepy sighs as the head of his cock got closer and closer to your face, touching your lips gently. He was imagining your lips wrapped around it, how warm and wet it would feel and how good you'd suck him. There were thoughts crossing his mind about how easy it would be to violate you right now. How he had to fight himself from reaching down and playing with your clit, knowing your pussy was smooth to the touch and wet. How he could spread your legs and sink his length inside and you'd probably know nothing of it until you woke up the next morning. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" He whispered, eyes trained on your lips where his precum was beading and dripping onto. "You've wanted me to take this tight little cunt for months. Dirty whore."

He wondered what would happen if you woke up. He expected you'd be surprised but you'd consent very quickly. It never took much work to get you wet, after all. In fact, he'd even seen you gagging for it a few times, begging to no one when you'd fuck yourself stupid, hoping for someone to take you and rail you. He knew how filthy you could be, how open-minded you were, and even the stuff you'd say to yourself as you rode your various dildos. Even the fantasies you'd share with Daddy. How you'd pull your nipples and beg for someone to spit in your mouth or choke your pretty throat. How you'd even slap your own face and clit when you were told to.

The image of you underneath him, cheeks and neck red from where he'd been slapping you and choking you sprang in his mind. And the wild, delirious look in your eyes telling him you loved the pain he was giving you was what tipped him over the edge, spilling his cum onto your lips and watching it roll down your chin and cheeks. Of course, he cleaned you up gently so not to disturb you, but put the image of his cum on your face in the back of his mind to save for a later date. For now, he'd sleep.

He woke before you, his back sore from sleeping on the floor all night so as he could continue to take care of you but not invade your personal space more than what he did last night. Thanks to all his previous rummaging when you weren't around, he was able to remember what you had in your cupboards and fridge, allowing him to make you both the perfect hangover breakfast. He had planned to serve you breakfast in bed, waking you up gently with water, grease and an anti-sickness tablet. But you'd entered the kitchen long before he was ready to dish up. He stopped cooking and immediately turned to you, incredibly politely stopping what he was doing. "I'm sorry I did this without asking you first. I just wanted to surprise you."

You were not offended by his actions in the slightest. Instead, your eyes conveyed gratitude and warmth. You stood on your tiptoes to give him a gentle, yet tired, kiss on his lips. You teased him, "I'm angrier at you for letting me get drunk last night."

"All the more reason for me to make you the ultimate cure."

You poured yourself a glass of water and that was when Namjoon noticed it: your attire. You'd changed from last night, no doubt uncomfortable in those tight, ass-hugging jeans. Instead of being appropriately covered around a man who you still didn't fully know yet, you opted to wear an oversized shirt and nothing else. You definitely weren't wearing a bra. He'd seen you in your loungewear enough to know what your perfect tits looked like both caged in fabric and free. Maybe others couldn't tell the difference, but he certainly could. Knowing how you liked to be comfortable, he could also make an educated guess that you eschewed the option to wear your panties, too. The thought made him a little hard in his briefs.

You broke the silence and leant up against the counter next to him, looking up at his face as you spoke. "I want to apologise to last night. Or rather, apologise for anything I did or said to you that might have been a little rude."

Namjoon smiled, "You did nothing that wasn't welcomed."

"That means I did something."

"I'm certainly not holding it against you."

You groaned, "Oh God, what did I do?"

"Honestly, it's okay."

"No," you begged, "please tell me so I can properly apologise."

Namjoon sighed, "You grabbed my crotch and asked me to spend the night with you... in a nutshell."

You buried your head in your free hand. "I am so, incredibly sorry. I honestly don't know what I do when I'm that drunk. I promise, it's nothing that I would normally do."

"Like I said, I'm not holding it against you."

You breathed a sigh of relief, then paused. Namjoon could hear the cogs in your brain working as you thought about something. "Wait... you said that I didn't do anything that wasn't welcomed. So, how long have you waited for me, and wanted me to grab your cock and beg for sex?"

Namjoon stopped cooking and looked at you. He lowered his voice, "Now, baby, I never said you begged."

"Do you want me to beg for it?"

Namjoon turned to face you, and gently put his hand on your throat. There was no constriction: he allowed you to move his hand or move your body if you were uncomfortable. But you didn't move. You didn't even flinch. It was impressive the way you just smiled at him and held his wrist in place. It was almost as if you wanted him to tighten his grip – so he did. "What I want is neither here nor there, but I know that I'll have you crying for me. You'll be on your knees begging for me without me even having to order you."

Namjoon heard the little whimper that came from the back of your throat. He noticed the way your thighs were squirming, trying to relieve the pressure of your arousal. And he saw the way you swallowed to try and whet your very dry throat, but to no avail.

Suddenly, his grip on your throat loosened and his hand fell to his side. His attention turned back to cooking, though he could see your shock in his peripheral vision. He shrugged his shoulders, "But I don't know if we're ready for that kind of step yet. I wouldn't want to rush things."

He didn't need to see your face to know how stunned you were by the whole situation. If you were anything like him, which he had seen you were recently, he knew you would be contemplating getting on your knees and begging for him to rail you. It was hard enough for him to conceal his arousal from you. He didn't want you to see just how much you affected him.

You, however, did something that Namjoon wasn't expecting. You turned away from him and made your way over to an empty counter. As soon as you sat on it, you called Namjoon's name. When he turned to look at you, he watched you spread your legs for him – a sudden confidence he only saw when you were on the phone with "Daddy". His suspicions about you were correct in that you were wearing absolutely no underwear whatsoever, allowing him to see your perfect pussy in its entirety. He dropped the spoon he was holding and stared at your body, his mind turning numb.

Cutting the tension in the air, you spoke, "Remind me again, who's in charge?"

Touché, he thought. Finally, he was brought back to Earth. He turned the food off and strode over to where you were sat, immediately grabbing your cheeks and pulling you in for a rough kiss. He pressed his body so close to yours, you could feel his length press up against your core. The temptation was too irresistible, and the kiss was broken when you began to rub your clit against his clothed cock. You both moaned, though his was a little louder than yours. He buried his face in your neck and kissed a sensitive spot, humping against your pussy a little more desperately than he intended. His hand found its way to your hair and tugged, showing you his fullest intent to be as rough as he possibly could be with you. He wanted you to know what kind of things he enjoyed, knowing you enjoyed them to. "Do you think you're ready for me, baby?" He asked breathlessly.

You couldn't reply, all you could do was nod your head and hope it was enough.

It wasn't. Namjoon told you, "You need to use your words."

"Yes." You replied.

"Good girl. I'm going to fucking ruin you."

There was no foreplay involved, both Namjoon and you knew it wasn't necessary. You liked it when it hurt. So he simply pulled himself out of his trousers and entered you, staring directly into your eyes and watch them flicker with a plethora of emotions: pain, lust, pleasure. Your breath was taken away from you the moment you felt his head breach your walls. He was much, much bigger than you anticipated, and it hurt a little more too, but it didn't deter you, nonetheless.

Namjoon wanted to make the pain not so prominent to begin with, wanted to allow you the opportunity to get used to him and his size before he completely wrecked your insides. However, you had other plans. Your own hand went up to his hair, tugging at his roots. You smiled, and with a low voice you said, "Is that all you got?"

Upon hearing your words, he uttered, "You asked for it." And began to treat you exactly how you wanted. Clearly you wanted it rougher, and harder. Clearly you wanted to be treated like nothing more than a cheap whore. He'd seen the things you got off to, looked at your browsing history when you weren't home. He knew you were nothing more than a filthy slut, who enjoyed being used, and broken, and passed around. Though he didn't want his first time with you to be overshadowed by the darkest of your kinks, it seemed to be the only way to get you off. So, he was going to make this hurt in the best ways.

His hand returned to your throat again, squeezing a lot harder than he should have. His free hand came up to your face, and slapped it so hard it made you slightly dizzy. Then he slammed into you, burying himself immediately to the hilt. He wasted no more time, pulling out and crashing back inside. Over and over again. You were silent at first and had Namjoon been in a different mindset he would have been concerned. But you'd unleashed something neither of you knew existed, and now all Namjoon was concerned about was his own pleasure.

"This is all you're good for, isn't it?" Namjoon asked. His voice was breathy and husky. "Nothing but a place for me to put my dick."

You tightened in response to his words, letting out an extremely loud moan at one rough thrust.

"Whoring yourself out to the first man who takes care of you." He tsked. "Shameful bitch!"

Tighter.

"I bet you thought you were safe with me, didn't you? Fuck." You felt so good. So tight. Getting tighter and he couldn't help himself. "I bet you thought I wouldn't do anything to you. Didn't you?" Namjoon grew impatient at your lack of verbal response, and slapped your face again. "Didn't you?"

"Yes!"

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Dumb bitch." His pace picked up. He had you trapped in between the cupboard and his solid body. "You begged me for this last night, don't you remember?" He moaned loudly. "Had me so hard. I could have fucked you then. Do you know what I did instead?"

Your pussy got tighter in anticipation. He allowed your hand to snake down and play with your clit.

"I jerked off over you. Came all over this pretty face of yours."

"Shit!" The speed of your fingers picked up. Your head banged gently into the cupboard door every time he entered you.

"Should have taken a video. Showed you what I did to you. You'd wanna see it, wouldn't you?"

"Yes! Oh fuck, Namjoon! I-"

You came. You came so hard all over his cock that you stopped breathing. Your mind was filled with the images he'd put in there, the whole idea that this seemingly sweet and charming man could do something so vile. You should have been disgusted. You should have felt frightened, but instead you squirted so hard, you forced him out of you and ruined his clothes with your juices.

Namjoon didn't allow you to recover, though. Instead, he pulled you off the counter, turned you around, and forced you to bend over. "Take you from behind. Remind you what a filthy goddamn animal you are." Entering you again, he picked up his pace. "Give me that cunt." His hands were roughly grabbing at your hips, giving him the leverage to rail you as hard as possible. His voice was deeper than you'd ever heard it, and he was moaning and grunting so loudly. The sound of him was getting you more turned on than ever. You'd never been with a man as vocal as Namjoon, as willing to talk dirty and just let you hear how much he was enjoying your body. The verbal confirmation was enough to drive you insane.

"N-Namjoon, did you – fuck – did you touch me?"

"When?"

"Last night wh-when you jerked off."

"No." Why did you feel disappointed? "Did you want me to?"

"Yes!" God, your cunt was responding so well to this. It loved these details, this whole scenario. It was so greedy, practically begging for more. You weren't even sure if you could have more.

"Tell me, slut. What did you want me to do to you?"

Now it was Namjoon's turn to become putty. "W-wanted you to touch me. Touch my clit. Lick it. Oh fuck! Namjoon, right there! Please don't stop! Please!"

"What else, bitch?"

"F-force me to cum! Make me take your cock! W-wanna wake up to you using me."

"Yeah? You wanna be my fucking flesh-light, don't you? You're disgusting. Turn you into my breeding bitch, what do you think?"

"Yes! God, yes! Breed me, please!"

"Keep you tied to the bed and stuffed full of my cum."

"T-tell your friends I'm there, they c-can use me too!"

Namjoon wrapped his forearm around your neck and pulled you up to him, choking you for real this time. Breathing had become painful and even more difficult with him still forcing his cock inside of you. "No!" He said loudly. "You're mine! You belong to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" You choked out.

Namjoon released his grip on you, and you fell forward gasping for air. "Yes, who?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Dumb slut. You're mine. You're my property now. To use and fuck whenever I want. No one else can have this cunt, do you understand me?"

"I understand!"

"God I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fill you up so good. Knock you up. Show everyone who you belong to."

"Please cum inside me! Cum inside your filthy cunt, sir."

"Touch yourself. Make yourself cum again."

"I can't."

He grabbed hold of your hair and tugged. "You can and you fucking will."

You did as you were told. Your pussy was so oversensitive that any touch was kind of painful. But it felt so delicious. Once you started rubbing your clit, despite the ache, you couldn't stop. You had truly lost your mind to Namjoon, allowed him to take over your entire consciousness. You were just his obeying toy. His personal plaything. You heard him grunt loudly behind you, his voice turning into a predatory growl, before feeling him fill you up with his cum. The growl did something new to you; the shock of it making you hit your second orgasm. Then... darkness.

You woke up in your bed, covered up completely by your duvet and surrounded by nothing but warmth. You don't remember how you got there but moving had proven to be too difficult for you. Your pussy throbbed unbearably, reminding you of what took place in your kitchen. You wanted it again though. Oh, you loved that side of Namjoon.

He was underneath you, your head on his chest and both of his arms wrapped around you holding you impossibly close to him. He was asleep, but your squirming had made him wake a little, grumbling something when you moved your head to look at his face. Sleepy, dragon eyes looked back at you, with a small grin accompanying them. "Hi." You whispered.

"Hi."

You paused. "Namjoon, did you really touch yourself over me last night?"

Namjoon replied immediately, "No. Sorry, I said that in the heat of the moment."

"Oh, no. It's okay. I liked it."

"You did?" Namjoon could tell that you wanted to say something, but you were hesitant to. "What is it, my love?"

"If you did want to... you know... touch me while I slept or even do more things to me, that would be okay."

Namjoon smiled. "Do more things?"

"Yeah, you know."

"I don't know, you're going to have to use your words." You buried your face in his chest. "Why are you shy all of a sudden?"

"It's awkward."

"What things did you want me to do?"

"You can fuck me if I'm asleep if you wanted to. I love the idea of being used whenever and wherever."

"Yeah? You really want to be my own toy?"

You nodded.

"You're so cute." He told you, gently booping your nose.

Things were good between the two of you for a while. He would come to your house every day and you'd both be tangled up in the sheets, sometimes going multiple rounds. You couldn't get enough of each other. The only bump in the road you hit was when he found out about your side-hustle: your sex work. You had been posting yourself online for a while to make up for the money you lost at the bakery and had found yourself a few clients. One in particular, "Daddy", you'd speak to on a regular basis. You didn't know her real name, but you knew a lot about her and her life. She was a long, blonde-haired businesswoman who was a closet lesbian and a mother to two children. Both of whom were in upper middle and high school. She would pay you hundreds, if not thousands per session, sometimes through bank transfers, other times through fun toys and clothes through the mail.

Namjoon had known about Daddy for a while, of course, but he hadn't made that fact known to you. He wanted to wait for the opportune moment when it would feel organic and not as though he were watching you through several cameras at any given moment. On his way to your house, he checked the cameras as he usually did, expecting to find you getting ready for their date that night, but instead he found himself watching you figure out how to tie yourself up using beginner's bondage equipment. He also could make out something pink inside you, but the picture was too small for him to be able to see for certain what it was. Though, he felt he could assume it was a vibrator of some kind. He connected his headphones to his phone to allow the full experience. He was annoyed that you were still doing this, but he was going to enjoy it as much as he could while he could.

You were grunting and groaning from the pressure you were putting on your body, contorting in random shapes to fit your limbs into the fabric cuffs. Now, lay on your back, propped up against your pillows with your legs wide open, your attention was drawn to Daddy on the phone. "Are you ready, Princess?" Daddy asked you in a sweet tone.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl. We're going to start gently, okay?"

The sound of the toy was almost non-existent. Through the headphones, Namjoon couldn't hear anything at all underneath your soft sighs and gentle whines. You had begun squirming already. How were you all tied up and still adorable? You could barely cope with the pleasure that you were being given at any time, always trying to squirm away from it whenever you could.

Namjoon scrunched his face in disgust when Daddy spoke again. "How's that, Princess?"

Breathlessly, you responded, "F-feels good already." All the blood drained from his head and went straight to his cock at the sound of your voice, fucked out already and you hadn't even begun your session. He could feel himself chubbing up, watching you writhe and chase your pleasure.

"I wonder what happens when we do this..."

You thrashed a little more violently on the bed after Daddy had finished speaking. She had turned the vibrator up significantly given your reaction.

"It's too much!" You cried. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can."

"Ah!" The vibrator went up a little more. You were trembling so much. Namjoon knew how it felt to be above you when you shook like that. He strained against his zipper. It was too uncomfortable. All the while, you screamed, "Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

"There?" Daddy asked.

"Yes, Daddy!"

Fuck. Hearing the word on your lips did something to Namjoon. He had never been interested in that kink before, but you were changing him. You were making him more perverted than he had ever been. It sounded so sweet, so sexy coming from your lips. Any other woman would have made him cringe.

"Do you want to cum, Princess?"

"I do. I wanna cum, Daddy. Can I cum?"

"Cum for me."

And so you did. Your back arched and your legs moved inward attempting to close and clamp around the vibrator, but the restraints held you back. You went silent for a moment as the initial shock of the orgasm hit you, but once you regained your breath, you were loudly moaning. Usually, you would push Namjoon away a little as a sign you needed a few seconds to regain the mental capacity to continue, but Daddy wasn't in the room, and you couldn't remove the vibrator yourself. The pleasure you were feeling began to dance the line between unbearable pain and overwhelming gratification. And watching your reaction to this... torture, Namjoon had to rub his cock over his pants as discreetly as he could without drawing too much attention to himself. He couldn't be arrested for public indecency as he watched his girlfriend being virtually fucked by her sugar-mommy.

By the time Namjoon arrived at your house, you were on your fourth orgasm of the night. He snuck in and put his phone away when he peeked into the bedroom to watch the live version. You were so much more ethereal this way: covered in sweat, panting hard, tears running down your cheeks. You were absolutely fucked out, but Daddy hadn't finished with you yet. Your fifth orgasm hit just moments after. You had no idea that Namjoon was in your house, or even standing in your bedroom door. Your eyes were shut tight and your mouth was open in a silent scream.

Fifth.

Namjoon unbuttoned his jeans and started touching himself at the sight of you. Debauched and destroyed at the hands of another person. God, he couldn't wait to do this to you.

The sixth orgasm was your final one. Daddy made some excuse after turning the vibrator off and left abruptly, not bothering with aftercare or making sure you got out of your harness okay. That made Namjoon mad, but at least he was here to take care of you. To look after his most precious prize after she was cruelly abandoned by someone she shouldn't even be talking to. But that was okay. You'd come to your senses eventually. You'd see how wonderfully he treated you compared to others. He, of course, couldn't let what transpired in front of him pass by without a punishment.

The noise of him adjusting himself and shifting his weight caused you to look over in his direction, a look of panic on your face until you realised it was him. And then you realised. "H-how long have you been standing there?"

"Since orgasm number four."

"Namjoon, please! I can explain. Just untie me and we can talk."

Namjoon sat on the side of the bed. "Talk? About how I just watched my girlfriend get dominated by another woman?"

"No, please. It's not what it looks like. She pays me. Please, untie me. We can talk about this."

You looked so desperate and vulnerable, lying there watching him coming towards you. Stalking his prey before he was about to attack. He put his index finger on your clit and began to put pressure on it, pushing you into oversensitivity and making you scream. "So, you really are a whore, aren't you? I couldn't believe it. My sweet, beautiful girlfriend loves being called one, she couldn't actually be one, could she? But here you are," he added more pressure, "offering this tight little cunt up to the highest bidder." He leant over you, biting your ear as two fingers pulled out the toy. "You like it when people use you for their own pleasure, don't you? If I used you now, how much would you charge me, hm?" He spanked your pussy. "How many other cocks have been in this filthy pussy?"

"Please." You whimpered.

Namjoon imitated your voice. "Please." He laughed, almost maniacally. It scared you. But the more insane he seemed, the longer he toyed with your sensitive core, the more turned on you felt.

Suddenly, his hand left your vulva and gripped on tightly to your cheeks. He bent over you, dropping his mouth to your ear and mumbling, "I'm going to fuck you, little slut." His free hand reached down to his cock and freed it from his jeans and underwear. He moved on top of you, trapping your legs to the bed underneath him. It was evident to you now that your comfort never crossed his mind. It shouldn't turn you on. The idea of being nothing more than his cum receptacle should repulse you. But despite the discomfort your body was in, your mind and heat were fully ablaze with arousal. He lined himself up and pressed the tip to your waiting core. "I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to lie there and take it."

Without any other warnings, he slammed into you, causing you to cry out. The headboard shook violently with each thrust, reminding you that you were insignificant right now. All of his weight was on top of you, nearly smothering you. You had no choice to lie there and take it. You couldn't fight him even if you tried. Part of you wanted to. Part of you wanted to see how vicious he'd get if you pretended to resist. When he was so animalistic in the way he was taking you. This wasn't the Namjoon you knew. But, God, you loved how he was abusing you. The noises you were making, you hardly recognised yourself. While Namjoon had devolved into a primal state, you, too, weren't far off. Howling at the top of your lungs every time he slammed into you. "You vile fucking bitch. You fucking love it, don't you?" His words were venomous.

"More."

"You're fucking shameless, aren't you? Fuck. How many men have fucked your tramp pussy, hm? How many women have watched you play with yourself for money? I bet the whole city watches you, and gets off to you whoring yourself out." His fingers dug into your flesh the harder he fucked you. In his head, he could see a line of men queuing outside your bedroom door, lining up to bury themself inside you, throwing money at you when they'd finished. There would be copious amounts of cum all over you, inside you, staining your bedsheets. There'd be bills strewn about the place. He imagined someone rolling up a bill and putting it inside you while you lay on your bed still tied up. Sometimes he'd see you taking multiple cocks at the same time. He hated the idea of other men touching you but watching them do unspeakable things to your whore body forced a visceral, almost primal reaction out of him.

In that moment, you were no longer human to him. His brain didn't register that you could feel things, that you could even speak. Somehow, he had the ability to get rougher with you; hands holding your flesh tighter, cock violating your cunt, you tied up and powerless beneath him, unable to stop it or save yourself from this violent onslaught.

Your orgasm was building. Your breaths were getting shorter and shorter. Your vision becoming blurry.

"Shit! Now look at you. Falling apart on my dick after showing yourself off to someone else. You can't get enough can you?"

His sweat was dripping from his face onto yours, his teeth grazed your perfect skin almost threateningly. His breath was ragged, tired. It seemed as if he couldn't breathe either.

"Sir," you breathed, "cumming." That was the only word you were able to say before you reached your peak, tightening painfully around his cock. This orgasm was bordering on painful, and you tried to get away; fight for a bit of respite before he continued. But as his whole weight was on top of you, you were truly trapped and fully at his mercy.

Namjoon took a second to look up at your face, flushed and perfect. A peaceful expression on your face, though. You'd passed out. Your exhausted body had gone limp while you attempted to regain some strength. And something else in Namjoon came back. You were unable to stop him before, there was nothing to stop him now. "I can't wait to look back on this, Princess." He told you.

He took this opportunity to quickly untie the useless restraints you wore, and flipped you onto your stomach. With you in the prime position for it, he was tempted to take your ass. Force his way inside and make that hole his too. But, somehow, he resisted the urge. He slid back into your wetness and continued his ministrations, speedily approaching his own release. He was going to cum so hard this time. He could feel the strength building, and building.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

With a shout, he collapsed onto your back, emptying himself into you. His orgasm felt never-ending. Breathing was difficult. He wasn't even sure if he had the energy to pull out. He had to, though. He had to clean you up and take care of you. He felt gross upon reflecting on the words he uttered to you. The atrocities he uttered were unspeakable, yet he spoke them. And you came for him while he did. Regardless, guilt was beginning to set in for the first time in this relationship.

When you came to, you immediately felt heavily ghough. Hollow, numb. Not feeling Namjoon's touch immediately when you woke up sent you spiralling from a sub drop you'd never experienced before, overwhelmed and panicking. That was when Namjoon came into the room.

"Hey, hey." He said softly. "None of that, Baby. Come here." He set down the items in his hands on your bedside table and scooped you up into a hug. You had never felt more vulnerable than right now, crying into his bare shoulder when you were almost entirely naked. If it weren't for the sheet covering you, you'd be exposed to him completely.

"I'm s-sorry f-for not t-telling you about-" The attempt to apologise for lying to him was ruined by your sobs. But Namjoon just rocked and shushed you.

"I'm here, Baby. I'm here. You're safe. It's okay."

"I-"

"Don't talk. Just cry. I was too vicious to you wasn't, I? You're not any of those things. I love you so much." He kissed your cheek. "You're so kind..." he kissed your forehead. "And beautiful..." he kissed your other cheek. "And you are my entire world." He kissed your lips so softly, you could barely feel him. "And I love you." He pulled away from you briefly. "What did I just tell you?"

"That you l-love me."

"Good girl. Precious girl."

Though he was a little further away from you now, he still had his hand on your body, making sure that you could physically feel him at all times. He reached over and handed you the glass of water that he brought in. "Tiny sips, Baby." You obeyed, earning you praise to warm your heart. With every sip of water you took, you could feel yourself becoming calmer and calmer until all you felt was exhaustion. He had also handed you your favourite chocolate bar and told you to eat it in front of him, to get some of your sugar back up. He promised you pizza for later, and beckoned you to rest your head on his chest. As you snuggled into his body, you felt his finger tips brush up and down your spine, relaxing you and making you drift off to a deep and exhausted sleep.

Weeks later, on Namjoon's birthday, you made a somewhat disturbing discovery. You had only been to Namjoon's house a few times since you two began dating, given that most of your meetings were either out in the world or at your home. You were unsure why that was, but never thought anything of it. There were hundreds of innocent reasons as to why a person may not want to spend time in their own home, and if Namjoon wasn't ready to share his secrets with you, then who were you to force him? All in due course.

You, unbeknownst to your boyfriend, had booked the day off work to surprise him and celebrate his birthday with him when he returned. You hadn't meant to go snooping, honestly. It's just, you wanted to check on the arrival of the bespoke cake you'd ordered to his house. Your phone wasn't being helpful – stupid mobile sites – so you decided to do the next logical step and borrow his laptop. If you cleared the browsing history and site cookies, he'd be none the wiser. It would be fine.

Though, all your good feelings left when you opened his laptop (which didn't have a passcode on it) and saw that he'd left his last application open. Upon an automatic refresh, your mouth widened in shock and horror to find yourself looking into your own house. Multiple cameras installed at varying angles to capture the entirety of every single room. Live feeds with a constant recording so they could be viewed on demand, cut into various clips whenever something interesting happened. There were few videos of you doing mundane tasks. But most of the videos you saw showed you in your most intimate positions, either being fucked by Namjoon or touching yourself. Or on the phone to Daddy.

One by one, you scrolled through these videos, watching the scenes unfold. These dated back to the beginning of your relationship. You watched the videos when Namjoon fucked you and felt yourself get wet. One of the more recent videos being when he punished you for playing with Daddy. You remembered that night so vividly, it often became masturbation material when Namjoon wasn't around. To be able to watch it happen as though you were a stranger was more of a turn on than you'd anticipated. But then you saw videos you knew you weren't meant to see.

Namjoon let himself into your house frequently, especially at the beginning. And sometimes he'd still be in your apartment when you came home. You watched him hide in your closet, and some of the angles showed him stroking himself. You watched him sniff and lick your panties, cum over them and other things around your house, including the dildos you kept in the living room and the rim of your favourite mug where your lipstick stains were.

Way back in the beginning of the relationship, you found it peculiar that Namjoon would contact you while you were in the middle of playing with yourself. Sometimes, you'd be bouncing on the dildos in your living room and he'd call you. You thought it was an odd coincidence, nothing more, but now you knew the truth. He'd been watching you for months, stroking his cock to these secret videos of you and calling you to see if he could hear your moans. Your pussy throbbed at the thought.

You felt disgusted with yourself. The man you loved and trusted above all others had violated you. He filmed you without your knowledge or consent, broke into your home to defile your things, and watched you in your most private moments. You should be angry with him. You should hate him. Report him to the police at the very least. He wasn't sane – or normal. No ordinary person would do something like this. But your hand was now working over your clit, rubbing yourself while watching the evidence. Bucking your hips and stifling your moans as you watched yourself on screen, watched how your body responded to the pervert and listened to yourself wail for him. Watched him masturbate over your sleeping body. Listened to his horrific words.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

You wished you were awake to have heard that. You wished he'd said it in your ear while you were cognitive and present. Hearing that one word had your cunt clench and your fingers involuntarily work faster and harder. If you heard it from him, it would have hurtled you into another orgasm just like it had when hearing it through his laptop speakers, cumming all over your fingers and dripping on his dining room chair.

When you'd come back to your senses, you sat there for a little while contemplating what had just happened, and what steps you should take next. The logical side of you was very much screaming at you to run as fast as you could to the other side of the world and never tell him where you'd gone. Or at least to the police station to report him for the crimes he'd committed against you. The darker side of you, however, was almost begging you to mess with him. You could have so much fun now that you knew what he was doing. You struggled with the internal fight for the rest of the night, even when Namjoon was deep inside you, none-the-wiser that you knew his dirty little secret. While he was being gentle with you, making love to you, all you could hear was how he sounded when he told you he'd brutalise. The image of him choking you and ruining you had you cumming so hard for him. And he had no idea that you knew.

You avoided Namjoon for a few days after that, and it drove him insane. He wasn't used to going no-contact with you, or even not seeing you for more than eight hours at a time. When you told him that you needed to stop and think about things his imagination went into overdrive. He was glued to his computer screen during that time watching to see if anyone else entered your house, or if you were spreading your legs for another person. He didn't know what he would do if you were having an affair with someone else. But to add to his confusion, you saw no one. Not your best friend, not your family... you didn't even go to work. And he was worried you were spreading your legs for someone else, but you didn't even do it for yourself. That was when he knew something was wrong. He once joked that you masturbating was like a golden retriever eating; if it didn't happen then there was truly a problem.

After five days of hearing nothing from you, he finally received a text. He leapt at his phone when he realised it was you, and answered immediately. Responding to your invitation to come to your house. He was in a taxi faster than he ever had been before, and was at your house within 20 minutes.

You greeted him at the door, in an oversized t-shirt and bicycle shorts, his favourite outfit combination. The shorts always hugged your curves so perfectly, and the oversized t-shirt hung off your breasts. You looked delectable... but also insanely stressed.

You didn't say anything to him, just took him to your living room and sat down on the couch. He sat on the couch next to you, and didn't say a word until the silence was unbearable. This was it; you were going to break up with him, he knew it. "Are you okay, Baby?" He asked.

Instead of answering, you pulled out your phone and pressed something on your screen. You made sure the volume was up to its loudest setting. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled his ears, as did his grunts and moans as it became obvious what he was listening to.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

At least he has the decency to look horrified, you thought sadistically. Your face didn't show it, he didn't know it, but watching him squirm and panic was doing things to you. Your dominant, perverted boyfriend was now terrified and putty in your hands. The power had shifted, and it belonged entirely to you.

"You recorded us?" He asked quietly.

"Do you want to tell me why there are cameras all over my house, Namjoon?"

His eyes widened even more. "Wait, Baby, please! I can explain." He launched himself off the sofa and got on his knees in front of you, forcing you to look down on him. He looked pathetic, begging for your forgiveness, holding your thighs and anxiously waiting for your forgiveness. He told you everything from the very beginning about the robbery and the reason why he would so often break into your house, right to the cumming in your panties and watching you touch yourself every day. You could feel your shorts getting wetter and wetter at the vulnerability he was displaying. "How can I make this right, ____? I'll do anything."

The magic words. "Anything?"

"Name it."

"You're going to need to apologise."

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so so-"

"Not with your words." You lifted your hips and removed your shorts, revealing your dripping cunt to him. The cold air hit you and you could feel your clit tingling in anticipation, knowing that what was to come next was going to be the best night of your life. You spread your legs wider, giving him enough space. "But you can still use that nasty little mouth of yours."

He wasted no time, immediately throwing himself forward and lapping up your wetness, tongue moving desperately to try and make you feel good and keep him close. He sucked and licked on your clit fervently, and as hard as you tried to remain quiet, occasionally fervent moans would escape and tell him that he was doing good. You put your hand on his head and tugged at his hair.

"I wanted to make you suffer." You told him while he was still between your thighs. "Wanted to hurt you." You moaned and began bucking your hips. "Oh, fuck! That's it! Haven't touched myself in days because I knew you'd be watching. Couldn't let you feel good after the shit you pulled.

"Did you like watching me, Joonie?" Your tone changed, you began to taunt him. You pulled his head away by his hair. He tried to fight you, tried to get back to your cunt and finish what he started, but your grip stopped him. "Did you like watching me fuck myself and not know you were there?"

You peered down to his trousers to see his cock hard and ready to go and you laughed. "Kneel back." He did what you asked and unknowingly gave you access to him. You immediately stretched your leg and put your foot on his dick, pressing gently at first. You laughed at him when he let out a small moan, finally being granted a modicum of friction. "You know, if you'd have asked, I would have let you put the cameras up. I would have even put on a bigger show for you. I would have moaned louder, called your name, bent over and showed you my precious cunt. I would have given you all the material you could have ever wanted."

You applied more pressure to his dick, pushing down a lot harder and this time earning a groan of pain. "But you went behind my back like the fucking pervert you are. You watched me fuck myself in this very room and let me believe that I was alone. I always thought it was weird how you knew the things I was into. Turns out you've been letting yourself into my house and violating me in all aspects."

"Please."

"Please what? What are you begging for, perv?" You removed your foot from his cock and leant forward, roughly pulling his hair by the roots and making him look into your eyes. "You are not to touch yourself. You're going to make me cum in five minutes. If you don't, I'm going to walk out that door and you're never going to see me again. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

You leant back one more time and spread your legs again. You picked up your phone and started the timer. "Go."

He moved in pure desperation, there was no other way to describe it. Immediately, his mouth was attached to your clit, sucking harshly and quickly. He was fighting with your body and pulling out all the things he knew that drove you mad. Now there were high stakes. You were going to leave him if he couldn't perform the most basic of tasks. He immediately plunged two fingers inside you and began to roughly use them, hitting that soft spot and making you scream out in pure pleasure. You always loved his fingers inside you, he knew that. You told him he had beautiful hands and loved feeling them fucking your cunt, loved how deep they got, and how quickly they could move.

You didn't bother to hold back your moans. You were so loud for him. He loved it when you were loud. Perhaps you were being loud to torture him. He couldn't touch himself to your moans, so he could only listen to how good he was making you feel. And he was making you feel incredible. Your hips were wantonly moving on their own, and your hands were pushing his head further into your cunt. His fingers were picking up their pace. At this point, you were all but screaming.

He could feel you tightening. You were so close to cumming. He stole a glance at your discarded phone. Twenty seconds remained. He began to work harder, faster. His tongue ached from the constant use, and his hand was cramping up but you were so close.

Twelve seconds.

"Fuck! Namjoon! Just like that!"

Nine.

Eight.

"Oh my fucking God, Namjoon!"

Five.

"I'm gonna cum!"

Three.

The sound you made was guttural and animalistic. Your back arched and your grip on his hair tightened. "Fuck!" You came on his fingers as the timer went off. This wasn't a sweet and delicate orgasm like you'd usually get from his tongue, this was violent and powerful. The wind was knocked out of you and you squirted all over his face and your sofa, soaking the fabric of his t-shirt. He only pulled himself away from you when you made him. You were so exhausted you couldn't even turn off the timer, he had to do it for you. You were breathing heavily, eyes droopy from sleep. But you weren't finished yet.

"Strip." You ordered him. He obeyed. "Sit on the sofa."

Once he was settled on the sofa, you straddled him, feeling him bare beneath you. He hadn't fought you once, allowing you to take complete control of him, submitting to you as you usually do to him. He was so red and hard, and very pliant. His eyes never left your face, even when he felt your hand on his cock and lined him up. Saying nothing, you sat, feeling him fill up your empty walls quickly. It had only been a few days without him, but when the two of you fucked like rabbits, it felt like forever. He clearly felt so, too, judging by the moan he just let out.

He said your name and put his hands on your waist, looking down at where you two were joined. But giving him autonomy was not something you had planned. You grabbed hold of his wrists and pinned them by his head, against the back of the sofa. You put all your weight into your hands as you bounced on his cock, not giving him the room to move. He could probably completely overpower you and there was even a small part of you that wanted him to. But the power trip you were on right now, the way it felt to have a big, strong man entirely at your mercy had you even wetter than usual. Except for the grunts that Namjoon would let out, or the moans you would, the sound your cunt made as it swallowed Namjoon was so loud, and such a turn on.

Namjoon still wanted more, though. It was torture to see your breasts bounce from underneath your t-shirt. Usually when you rode him, he liked it if you were completely bare so he had total access to your body. But your t-shirt was blocking his view. Despite that, your nipples were still so hard and visible through the fabric, he couldn't help himself. He reached forward and took one into his mouth, biting down softly.

"Harder!" You told him. Your nipples were so sensitive, especially when you had the t-shirt on to rub against them. Namjoon's teeth clamped a little harder, causing you to moan out and pick up the pace. A big part of you regretted pinning him down with your hands - your clit was aching again, and needed to be played with.

"You know," you began breathlessly, "you always called me a slut, but now you're acting like this." You bent down and bit his neck, earning another groan. "You're so useless right now, aren't you? Can't even fuck me with this big useless cock. Even now you're so hard. Such a fucking pervert, aren't you?" When he didn't respond, you bit his neck harder. "Aren't you?"

"Yes!"

"Hmmm... not good enough." You stopped moving. "I want you to say it."

"I'm a pervert." He responded immediately.

You lifted yourself up and slammed back down, forcing a scream out of him. "Louder!"

"I'm a pervert!"

You laughed. "Look into the camera and say it."

The realisation dawned on him, the cameras were still rolling. There was now footage of him being dominated by you on both of your phones. A quick flicker in his mind appeared; what if you used this video against him? The scariest thought to him was that he didn't mind. He didn't care if you posted the video anywhere. In fact, he felt his cock get harder at the thought of people seeing him so weak for you. He looked directly into the lens, and opened his mouth. "I'm a pervert!"

You slammed back down on him again. But this time, you didn't stop.

"What did you do?"

"I - fuck - recorded my girlfriend without permission. You feel so fucking good, shit!"

"Did you watch them?"

He nodded.

"Which one did you watch the most?"

"When... when you were tied up... and I - fucking hell - fucked you so hard you passed out."

"Do you know what I watch?"

"No."

"I watch you touch yourself over me when I'm asleep."

"Fuck." His voice was barely a whisper.

"I watch you fuck your hand while sniffing my panties, acting like a desperate little slut that can't wait for his girlfriend's tight cunt he has to lick her underwear to get off."

"Please."

"Please what?"

"I want to cum."

"Where do you want to cum?"

"Inside."

"Inside me? You think your useless, filthy cock is good enough to cum inside me?"

"Please."

God, he sounded so desperate.

"Do you want to cum?"

"Yes!"

"Cum for me. Now."

His eyes lit up, he was so happy to finally be able to empty himself inside you. You watched his face for the telltale signs that he was right there. To help him, you sped up even more and moaned wantonly, being loud for him as he loved. He was so close.

"I'm gonna -"

As he began his release you sat up, pulling him from inside you and letting his cock flop onto his belly. "No!" He screamed. The cum that was supposed to be inside you now emptying out onto his stomach. Tears began to well in his eyes as his orgasm ebbed away quickly, leaving him messy, used, and unsatisfied. He looked at you, feeling a small pang of betrayal.

"Let this be a lesson to you," you told him, "the next time you want to do something fucked up, you ask me first. Understand?"

He wanted to say something but thought better of it. He nodded simply.

"Don't touch yourself until tomorrow. I'll let you cum then."

You released him and stood up.

"What's stopping me from taking what I want from you anyway?"

"I'll do this again."

He nodded in understanding.

"Come on, Baby," you held out your hand, "let's go take a shower."

Goddamn, as I was writing this the trigger warnings just kept piling up and piling up and it got darker and darker. This shit is extra horny lmao. I know I don't usually write as dark as this, and it took me ages to get this done but I just had this brain rotting idea and I had to get it out. I hope you enjoyed it! My commissions are open so if you want something similar but with a different member, let me know! I'm happy to keep up the darker themes.

#kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon x reader smut #rm x reader smut #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon smut

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urbestestwindgod · 4 months ago

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hahaha!!

rp blog for Epic: The Musical

pfp and bg by gigi :)

im really super annoying im sorry

irl i do crocheted plushies of greek mythos! you can give recommendations here (not a commissions thing, i dont sell anything lol)

ic posts in this color with italics because i like them :3

ic posts would be tagged with aeolus’ discord (very professional sounding word for speach 10/10)

asks can just be aeolus’ asks because i love alliteration!!

i love love love my winions above other things (if you saw that video where i hit one that was a one time thing ok i was angry i don’t do that regularly!!)

name: aeolus :3 (i pronounce it ay-oh-lus but who knows that could be wrong oh well ill be dead one day anyways)

occupation: i would say wind god but zeus doesnt pay me for it like the others bc apparently “its not work” so

age: …3000 or smth? stopped counting

dad: poseidon :3 (and yea i know in the odyssey its just some guy i read the odyssey, but also in the odyssey aeolus is an old man with a wife and 12 kids and polities isnt important and poseidon doesnt confront odysseus directly ever and theres also no wind bag jetpack or god torture soooo….id say we dont have to be 100% accurate? and poseidon as his dad is 10 times more entertaining, and again i will be dead one day so idrgaf)

mom: 🤷‍♀️ you can ask @/unknown-mother-of-wind she seems to know a lot about stuff

favorite siblings: triton, polyphemus, rhode, kymopoleia, laestrygon, charybdis, uhm…the other billion i have—

favorite mortals: eurlochus (opened the wind bag💕), odysseus (entertaining), perimedes (super sharp sword), elpenor (gave me wine with my lotus!!)

favorite family members: uncle zeus, aunt hera, uncle hades, aunt demeter, aunt hestia (my favorite favorite), alll my cousins—hermes, apollo, artemis, hepheastus, ares, dionysus,

favorite songs: mortals make sooo many but i always liked that one like are you gooooing to scarboroigh faaaaiiirrr

ooc stuff:

ooc in plain black (still fun and appreciated)

and ooc posts should be tagged with op’s two cents (NOT godly or professional, slang, super funny phrase to me)

some info abt me out of character is she/he (not they/them pls thats gender neutral and i in fact have a lot of it), my name is ella, bi, professional over sharer but i try and be careful, i am unmedicated but dont be scared of me im the one whose scared of you!! and im so sorry i am the way that i am i cant help it im sorry :(

(dont rlly know what im doing but this is quite fun)

generally would consider myself very chill abt most stuff; cussing/flirting/cringe, so thats all alr just pls dont cuss AT me bc im kinda sensitive sorry

nsfw i would be super LIGHT on. dont go too far pls, i am a minor but im not gonna be all puritan over small jokes or implied jokes or whatnot—but no explicit images, and threats would be not appreciated.

i am annoying as they come so apologies for that! you can always tell me when im exhausting its ok!! just dont interact with me if you cant stand obnoxious people because idn how to fix that with myself sorry sorry im also really dumb and stuff sorry sorry sorry :(

i love you all very much, you are all very special to me, kiss kiss!!

#odyssey rp #epic the musical #intro post #epic the musical rp #aeolus #hes so cool guys trust

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horseshoegirl · 2 years ago

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Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 3: Southern Nights

AN: I low-key freaked out over the script release of the film, so it probably made me overanalyze Jake. But further cemented the back story I want for this.

This thing ended up being 13 pages long! I hope you enjoy it!

______________________________________________________________

❗️18+, strong language, sexual themes, Jake being Jake, godmother reader/original female character, Original child character.

# 4K Words

Part 2 | Masterlist | Part 4

Sadie did not break the news to Rooster. The minute she heard his Bronco pull into the driveway, she booked it to her room to hide. Or until Bob showed up. He protected her from everything.

This left you to deliver the news and deal with the emotional fallout.

So when Bradley started to put away the groceries for tonight, you saw it as an opportunity to break the news. You were preparing a charcuterie board, strategically standing between him and your knife set, when you finally managed to blurt out, “I might have some bad news.”

Rooster’s hand holding a bag of marshmallows froze halfway to your counter.

“Define bad,” he eyed you.

“Bad as in Sadie invited Hangman bad?” you rushed out, leaning slightly away from him.

Rooster did a double take. “Come again?”

“Sadie invited Hangman?” you winced, pronouncing your words carefully.

In all the time you knew Rooster, not once had you seen him get hysterical. Upset, yes. But it always resulted in a cold shoulder or an ignorant attitude. This was something different.

He looked like he was about to keel over, hands gripping the sides of your kitchen island tightly, the whites of his knuckles showing. It wasn’t until he finally looked up at you with a death glare that you realized how upset he was at the idea Hangman would be coming to a ‘Saturday Night.’

“You had one job. One!” he exclaimed, holding up a finger.

You sighed. Maybe it was a good thing Sadie left you to handle this.

“Rooster, I told her she could invite someone, no questions asked. She was supposed to ask a friend.”

“And she chooses to ask him?!”

You frowned. “Rooster, it’s one night. I don’t understand why you’re so against him coming. So he’s an asshole. He probably knows that. We know that. Sadie will figure it out.”

“It's a matter of principle, Liz.” he sighed.

You raised your eyebrow. “Wait, are you jealous?”

You knew you’d hit the mark when he said nothing and refused to meet your eye.

“Rooster,” you said, starting to console him, “she hardly knows him. You’re one of her favourite people. You’re not going to be replaced.”

Before he could answer, you heard Phoenix's voice calling out your name from your hallway, announcing her arrival.

You sheepishly turned towards Nat as she appeared, still trying to come up with the correct words to describe what Sadie did. Everything you thought about would only result in the same reaction Rooster had - said man looking redder than a tomato and metaphorical steam blowing out of his ears.

Nat placed her bags down before turning to greet you, pausing when she noticed the sheepish look on your face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

When you failed to say anything, Rooster jumped the gun, “Sadie invited Hangman.”

“Shut up.”

You peered at Phoenix through your fingers at her response, cowering next to your kitchen counter.

“She pulled one on me?” you offered with a weak shrug.

“She pulled one on you?” She looked from you to Rooster to your hallway. “How could she pull one on you?! She’s ten!”

“Rooster left her alone with him.”

“Me? I was dropping her off!”

“Who left her alone with him?!”

“You were the one who introduced yourself to him!”

“Me?! He was hitting on me. I was trying to stop him.”

Nat slowly inched towards your hallway, waiting for the right moment you would be too caught up arguing with Bradley to notice her absence. Lucky for you, you saw her moving out of the corner of your eye.

“Nat, don’t you dare!” you shouted as she took off to Sadie’s room, who then called out her name in a long overdramatic drawl.

You put your hand to your forehead before pointing to Rooster, saying, “Make sure she makes it out unscathed,” while returning to your board.

He made no effort to move, still standing in your kitchen with his arms crossed.

“Hangman hit on you?”

You turned to face him. “Seriously? You went from "he doesn’t get invited to Saturday Nights” to “he hit on you?”

He didn’t budge. “Well, what did you tell him?”

“I told him I wanted him to serenade me on the beach,” you sarcastically replied. “What do you think I told him?!”

Walking over, you placed your hands on his shoulders, steering him toward your hallway. “It’s one night, Rooster. You can get along with him for one night, for Sadie’s sake, and then you can return to the bromance and be Sadie’s favourite tomorrow.”

Placing two hands on his back, you pushed him in the direction of Nat, who was still unsuccessfully trying to coax Sadie out of her room.

“I don’t have a bromance with him.” He mumbled, turning the corner.

Pressing your forehead into the coolness of your kitchen counter, you let out a long-winded groan. Sometimes you wondered if you had inherited more than one child.

The sound of your phone vibrating on the counter pulled you away, and you reached over to see a text from Coyote.

I have a stowaway claiming the bug invited him tonight. Permission to proceed?

Well, he decided to come after all you thought. You quickly typed out your reply.

She did. Stowaway is allowed.

The sound of someone tapping on the sliding doors to your backyard made you glance up.

Sadie waved at you with a cheeky grin, having climbed out her window into the backyard. An easy escape considering your place was only one level.

Before you could reprimand her through the glass, she had taken off to one of the chairs surrounding the firepit in your backyard - Coyote and Payback’s idea one Saturday night, thinking the space could use a facelift. The following day you arrived home from a shift at the Hard Deck to the pair stacking stone bricks in a circle.

Her escaping would have been something Ridley would have done. There was so much of your sister in her; the thought made you want to cry.

After completing your charcuterie board, you finished putting away the rest of the groceries Rooster had abandoned until you heard your doorbell ring.

Bradley shot out from your hallway before you could even leave the kitchen. You found him looking through your peephole, muttering, ‘I'd kick him out before he even made it through the doorway.’

You had enough of the childish antics.

Reaching the door, you smacked Rooster on the back of his head, asking, “Can’t you act like a grown-up for two seconds?”

He rubbed the back of his head as he looked back at you. “She escaped out the window. Go save her from Nat when she realizes.”

After taking a deep breath and facing the door, you turned the handle.

______

There were three things Jake knew standing next to Coyote in front of your house.

One. He was, most certainly, baited by a ten-year-old into coming tonight.

Two. Your welcome mat reading Definitely Not a Trap Door was, indeed, a trap door.

Three. You had every right to resend Sadie’s invite after the stint he pulled at the Hard Deck. You didn’t.

Which is how he found himself at Coyote’s door on a Saturday night, asking if he could get a ride to your place. Javy acted as if he knew nothing, but as soon as Jake pulled out the piece of paper from Sadie’s notebook, her scribble of your address and a note from the ten-year-old aligning the top, he shut up and texted you.

And on the way there? Javy lectured him hard.

“I’m serious, and you cannot be pulling any of your shit with these two. They’ve been through enough. Liz lost her sister, and Sadie lost her mother. They are still going through it.”

Jake remembered drawing a halo above his head, swearing he only wanted to apologize to you and show up for Sadie. To which Coyote replied, “Apologize for what?”

He had a difficult time getting out of that one.

So when you emerged from your front door, a wide smile gracing your face at the sight of Coyote, Jake felt borderline anxious. And he hated that.

Javy was holding up two grocery bags full of steak as you reached out to hug him, hands gripping up behind his shoulders as you pulled yourself up to whisper in his ear, “Sadie’s in trouble.”

Coyote stiffened in your hold. “I'll wrangle Phoenix, and you handle Rooster?”

You pulled back from the hug. “Rooster’s trying to save Sadie. He might need a wingman.”

“On it,” he replied, quickly making his way into the house to drop off the food in the kitchen before seeking Sadie out.

Then your eyes landed on him for the second time today, less intense and a bit softer.

Hangman looked, well, not like Hangman. Gone was the slicked-back hair, arms held behind his back as he hesitantly looked at you. The bravado was gone, and in its place was a man who was slightly unsure of himself.

Any man, you thought, who showed up at the house of a woman he’d been rejected by a little less than four hours ago, deserved some credit.

“You decided to come,” you spoke, a smile gracing your face.

Pulling a hand out from behind his back, he presented you with the most beautiful bouquet of yellow tulips wrapped in newspaper-style paper.

“My mother always told me not to arrive at someone’s house empty-handed.”

Yellow. Freaking. Tulips.

“Sadie,” you gasped, realizing what he whispered into her ear. You loved yellow tulips, which Sadie knew, having brought a bouquet to your graduation. And if that wasn’t icing on the cake, he raised his other hand, revealing a single tulip wrapped in a green bow.

“For Sadie.”

You were sure you had forgotten how to breathe.

“You didn’t have to, Hangman,” you spoke, actively aware of how hands grazed the top of your arms as you accepted the bouquet.

“Consider it a peace offering,” he said, stepping back before holding out his free hand with a grin.

“Jake. Jake Seresin.”

Cocky pilots, you could deal with. This was a whole other level you needed to learn how to handle.

You grasped his hand, voice soft as you said, “Hello, Jake.”

He watched as a blush crossed your face and down the side of your neck. He liked this version of you, not the one who rightly sassed him earlier.

Despite wanting to know if your blush extended beyond your neck, he forced himself to forget the idea. Especially after finding out who you were.

Penny would kill him if she ever found out.

You, however, discovered three things while standing face-to-face with Jake.

One. While he was a lot bigger than you initially thought, with thick muscles and broad shoulders, Jake’s eyes were a deeper shade of green than you remembered.

Two. You were, without a doubt, if it wasn’t evident from your reaction on the beach, insanely attracted to him.

Three. You’d never allow yourself to act on it; saving yourself the absolute heartbreak that would surely follow once he decided he had enough was better than suffering through it.

“You, um, want to come inside? Give it to Sadie yourself?” You finally managed.

Motioning for Jake to follow you and not bothering to look back, you're greeted by the sight of Sadie running for it down the hallway with Natasha and Bradley on her tail, Coyote shouting after the pair to stop.

“Oh hey, wait for a second,” reaching out to grip across her waist, stopping her with an oomph. “Aren’t you going to welcome your guest?”

She peered up at you hopefully before moving around the flowers in the crook of your arm to exclaim excitedly at Jake, “You came!”

“Miss Sadie,” he said, presenting the tulip to her. “Thank you for the invite.”

Sadie was outgoing by nature. She was loud on occasion and almost always had something to say. Hardly anything seemed to silence her. So seeing her shocked expression as she reached up to grasp the flower from Jake gently caused a funny feeling to settle in your stomach.

She brought the flower to her nose and quietly said, “Thank you.” Then, “You're welcome.”

Nat and Bradley gave each other a look.

“I think your battle with fractions deserved some celebration.”

Excitedly, she proudly stated to him, “I got all of them after!”

Jake grinned right back at her. “Good job, Sade.”

Then she said something that shocked the hell out of you. “Call me Bug.”

Rooster’s eyebrows went up, mouthing ‘bug’ from behind Jake. You glared at him, hoping to covey the words, ‘Don’t you fucking dare” in your stare.

No matter how conflicted you felt, Sadie’s feelings took priority above all else.

Natasha stepped up behind Jake to speak over his shoulder, “That was nice, Bagman.”

“Yeah, really nice,” Rooster added, his tone flat.

“What can I say?" Jake remarked. "I do know how to be nice.”

Sensing the tension, you placed a hand on Sadie’s back to steer her away. “Come on, I’ll help you find a small vase. I need to find one for these.”

You wanted to stay clear of whatever verbal beatdown Jake would receive from the group if you could help it. After revealing what you did to Natasha and Bradley, and now Jake showing up with flowers for you and Sadie, there was no way this wasn’t turning out ugly.

You were just glad Javy might be the only one on the fence about the whole thing.

________

“Lizzie, I got a new playlist. I’m ready to beat the champ.”

You widen your eyes at Payback. “No, please, it was such a good night.”

Dinner had gone well, surprisingly. You don’t know what the rest of the team said to Jake as you went to get a vase, but everyone seemed to get along shortly after. Even Rooster seemed to tolerate Jake’s presence, at least for now.

Jake kept his distance, staying near Coyote for the first part of the night or speaking with Sadie as she made her way through the group. You needed to thank him for the flowers but could never find the opportunity to do so, even if you felt his eyes on you for the first half of the night.

Luckily for Sadie, Bob and Mav appeared just as you finished placing the flowers in a vase. If Bob wouldn’t lay down his life to protect her, Mav quickly stopped Rooster and Phoenix’s antics the moment Sadie hid behind his leg.

All of you were sitting in your backyard, each Dagger with a skewer in their hand, roasting a marshmallow. The light from the fire and the string lights along your fence set the perfect tone for the evening, and you were happy nobody felt in a rush to leave the minute things seemed to die down.

“Come on. You said we could make playlists," Payback complained, the others starting to grumble about how you said you promised.

“Not for me to guess them,” you protested, pressing your wrists to your eyes.

“Liz, come on.”

Do it, Elizabeth.”

“Aunt Liz, please!”

Embarrassed, you brought your legs up onto your chair to bury your head atop your knees and wrap your arms tightly around your legs when your name became a chant.

Rooster decided to play music one night and surprised by his music choices, you started guessing the names of the songs out loud. Ever since then, they’ve tried to stump you. You only had yourself to blame.

You ducked your head back, pushing strains of hair behind your ears before giving in to their chants. “Why do you guys do this to me?”

“Cause you're so good at it!” Fanboy insisted before blowing on this marshmallow.

Jake leaned over to Coyote. “What am I missing?”

Coyote smirked. “Lizzie here has this party trick. She can name almost any 70s, 80s or 90s song within seconds.”

“Ridley and I collected vinyl and listened to a lot of music when we lived together,” you shrugged.

“However, we have to guess it before she can.”

Jake straightened in his chair, “Really? Is that why you were wearing that David Bowie Jacket earlier?”

He’d never own up to the fact that Jacket was one of the reasons he wanted to speak with you.

If it weren't for your legs, you'd sink further than you did into your chair.

Jake was too focused on your reaction to notice Rooster gawking at him. Bradley quickly leaped up from his chair to your back shed, pulling out your wireless speakers and plugging them in. He gave Payback a thumbs up, who then started to sync his phone. You secretly loved and hated when they did this.

“Why don’t we make it interesting?”

You sat up in your chair, turning to Jake. “Am I sensing a challenge?”

“I just want to be sure you're putting your money where your mouth is.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Jake could feel everyone’s eyes on him. Rooster leered at him, along with Phoenix, whom he assumed expected him to ask for something untoward. Coyote cautiously placed a hand on his forearm, his grip tightening as the silence stretched on. Payback and Fanboy were watching you with anticipation, waiting to see if you’d welcome the challenge.

Sadie was looking at him with curiosity. Bob and Mav were just enjoying the banter.

“Looser does the dishes?” he finally offered.

You grinned, “You have yourself a deal, Cowboy.”

Jake and you squared off. The conversations continued in between the songs shuffling on the playlist, the Daggers quieting down to witness who would get it first. Creedence Clearwater Revival, Queen, Kenny Rogers, and Bruce Springsteen. You were surprised he managed to get the drop on you. A few he got just a second quicker, but there were others you managed to get first, giving you a solid lead.

That was until a song came on that made you giggle in your seat and pull Sadie up by her hands. She went willingly, laughing with you as she held on to your hands as you danced with each other.

Jake had long since lost the streak he had and was playing along more so to see how far your taste in music went. But watching you with Sadie caused something to settle deep within his chest.

You were so good with her, and you protected her something fierce. He was beginning to understand why everyone adored her. Even if Sadie's spontaneous invite only worked for tonight, he found himself hoping you'd allow him to be more present in both of your lives.

If he could only figure out where the image of you dancing in his arms came from.

________

The sun set a little more than an hour ago. Rather than holding Jake to the promise of doing the dishes, you decided to start on them before enjoying the rest of the evening, slipping inside without anyone noticing.

Glancing out into the backyard, Sadie was passed out against Mav, his arm securely wrapped around her to ensure she wouldn’t fall off the bench. Phoenix had given up her blanket and had carefully wrapped it around Sadie.

You couldn’t help but laugh when Coyote wrangled Bob away from the firepit, who had somewhat drunkenly gotten too close after adding another log. While he didn’t have much, he was a lightweight and, surprisingly, tended to lose his sense of spatial awareness.

Rooster left the speakers in your backyard playing music, and you found yourself dancing, humming, and singing along to the music as you worked.

You felt content. Whole. Happy.

The sound of plates hitting a wall startled you, making you jump. The dish in your hand slipped and clunked as it submerged back under the water. You froze when you noticed the pair of eyes on you.

Jake was standing at the backdoor, the rest of the plates in his hands and a grin plastered to his face. You had nothing to be ashamed of, but each time someone caught you dancing, you felt like Hugh Grant in Love Actually.

“What can I do?” He looked smug, ignoring your little shame fest.

You peered down at the dishes next to you, then the ones in his hands. If you wanted to get to bed at a decent time tonight, you would be a fool not to let him help you.

“I wash, you dry?” you offered while shrugging your shoulders with a timid smile.

He placed the dishes next to the sink, plucking the towel off your shoulder. Settling beside you, he leaned in close and teased you with an “Okay, Flashdance” in your ear.

Blushing seemed to be your thing today.

You settled into an easy rhythm, washing dishes next to Jake. Maybe it was the home-court advantage. Perhaps he was on his best behaviour. It could have been the two glasses of wine you had at dinner.

But the silence was becoming too deafening not to say anything. And you still needed to thank him.

“Thank you for the flowers.”

He quickly replied, “You were right to call me out. I shouldn’t have been so forward.”

“Does this have something to do with Penny threatening you to stay away from me?” you joked.

“Maybe,” he said, holding out his hand for another dish. “Not just her.”

You shook your head. “She means well. They all do. They’re just looking out for me. For Sadie.”

“Big bad Hangman going to scare you away?”

You scrunched up your nose. “You’re a shameless cocky flirt who says the wrong thing at the wrong time. It's going to take a lot more than that.”

“I don’t blame them. Or you.”

You frowned, not knowing what to say. So you offered, “Clean Slate?” while handing him the dish.

He looked at you questionably, “Just like that?”

You nodded, “Just like that.”

Unlike the flirty smile he gave you at the Hard Deck, this one was nothing short of genuine. The type that made you smile just by seeing it and your heart flutter in your chest.

“Did you have a good time?” you asked, picking up your sponge.

“I did, yeah.”

“What made you come? Couldn’t have just been Sadie.”

“Honestly, besides needing to see you again, yeah.” You giggled at that. “She baited me good.”

“She’s pretty smart,” you took a second to look at her sleeping outside, still curled up against Mav.

“Except for fractions,” he said, mocking Sadie’s dramatic flare. You shook your head.

“Thank you for helping her. Her tutor is an idiot. I want to get her a new one, but the school appointed him since she didn’t arrive at the start of the year.”

“Anytime, she’s a good kid.” He said, before his voice became sombre, and he asked, “How’s she handling everything?”

You stopped washing the dish in your hand. “She couldn’t get out of bed the first few weeks. I tried, but she was grieving. I don’t blame her for that.”

You reached for more dish soap and continued, “Then Rooster and Phoenix came along. Then the rest of the squad. She seems better, but she’s trying to put on a brave face. I’m just waiting for the moment she caves.”

“And you?”

You swallowed, gripping the sides of the kitchen sink.

His question took you by surprise. He was the first person to ask since her passing. While you loved your newfound family, you often saw them with Sadie in tow, and the mask you put up with her was suddenly being put up with them even when she wasn’t around.

As far as you knew, they thought you were okay.

“Sadie told me she didn’t want to stay in her hometown because she knew she’d see her everywhere. It's like that for me,” you managed, straightening up and handing him another dish.

“That Sadie’s just here for an extended vacation while she’s off somewhere. I go to call or text her to share something Sadie’s done, and then I’m brought back to that night. I realize I can't call, text or speak to her or hear her voice again.”

Jake noticed as your eyes glazed over, movements slowing as you stared at a spot on your floor before you shook your head, “Do you have any siblings?”

“Two sisters and a brother," he said tensely, adding, “I’m closer with my older sister, Janet.”

You sensed his family was a sore subject, but you couldn’t help but smile at the admiration in his voice for his sister. “Older sisters are the best. Ridley and I got into so much trouble.”

“Grew up on a ranch. Plenty of trouble there.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a Longhorns fan?” you remarked.

He looked shocked. “Now, what do you have against the Longhorns?”

“Nothing. I think it’s the national standard every Texian needs to be a Longhorns fan.”

He chuckled. “Anything else you want to know about me while we're at it?”

You stared at the facet for a few seconds before finally asking, “Why did you leave your wingman out to dry?”

Jake stiffened next to you. “Who told you?”

Momentarily thinking about dragging his call sign, you decided to be honest.

“Phoenix. She said something about an instructor, but I want to hear a first-hand account, not a second-hand story.”

He sighed, “It's not the greatest story.”

“Tell me anyway? Truly. I’m not here to judge.” You asked, handing him another plate.

Glancing at you, he wondered what it was about your eyes that made him want to tell you everything. Even the deepest parts of himself he wanted to keep secret. Your gaze was soft, and he could tell you were being genuine. You didn’t strike him as the type of person to say things you didn’t mean.

He turned away to stare at the rest of the Daggers in your backyard before finally grabbing the plate from your hand. “My family’s, what you’d say, competitive?”

You nodded, urging him to continue.

“My old man wasn’t too happy that I wanted to join the Navy. Wanted me to pursue a football career like my brother or take over the ranch.”

‘Ah, there it was,’ you thought—the source of the family drama.

“I thought if I could prove myself in my first dog fight on my own, I’d prove to him I could do this.”

“Jake,” you sighed.

“The story about the instructor is probably true, whatever she told you. Then one day, Rooster called me Hangman. Stuck ever since.”

Everything about what Natasha, Bradley and Javy said about him started rushing to the surface: the ego, the bravado, the ladies' man attitude. You had no idea what it took for someone to carry the weight of one mistake with you throughout your life, but you suspected Jake was carrying a larger burden than most.

“I’d like to think I'm doing better,” he trailed off, “Trying to look out for those guys up in the air. Make sure everyone comes home, even if they think I don’t care.”

Jake’s words made you reckon whether he played the character everyone assumed rather than disappointed them with the person he was. It was no wonder he was an asshole around others. Nobody seemed to give him a chance to prove otherwise.

While you might have met Hangman this afternoon, the parts Jake was allowing you to see you liked so much better. How much he would let you see was another question.

“You let a ten-year-old coerce you into coming here, despite knowing some people might disagree, and helped her with her math homework. I think you’re doing fine.”

“I don’t think I’m in any position to disappoint two ladies today,” He gently bumped you with his hip. You smiled softly and couldn’t help but return the bump with one of your own.

You both continued silently, washing the dishes until he finally asked, “So, am I forgiven for this afternoon?”

You knew the flack you’d get from the rest of the team at your reply. Yet, you smiled and handed him another dish anyway.

“You can come back.”

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