#and since they took my insurance out early | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

won4kiss · 19 days ago

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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────THE BEST GIFTS AREN’T UNDER THE TREE.

୨୧ SYPNOSiS. you and park sunghoon don’t exactly get along. you’re coworkers who seem to have nothing in common— polar opposties. he’s the polished guy from a wealthy family, while you’re just trying to make ends meet and keep your personal life private. but when an awkward run-in at the pharmacy reveals more about your struggles than you ever wanted anyone to know—maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought—maybe the person who drives you the craziest might just be the one who gets you best.

୨୧ PAiRING. enemy! park sunghoon x fem! reader, rich!sunghoon x not very rich! reader, type 1 diabetic! reader.

୨୧ GENRE. office romance, enemies to lovers, fluff & christmas romcom hallmark movie themed, minimal angst.

୨୧ WARNiNGS. profanities, kissing, yn is a little mean.. type 1 diabetes mentioned, struggles with money, ignorant hoon, not proofread.

୨୧ WORD COUNT. 8,106 / 8.1K

𝓟𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟i𝗦�� ﹕ last christmas, wham. it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas, michael bublé. you’re so vain, carly simon. unwritten, natasha bedingfield. suburban house, holly macve, ldr. just the way you are, bruno mars. can’t help falling in love, elvis presley.

NOTE. i know it’s a bit early.. but i literally couldn’t help myself i love love love christmas!! 🤓☝️thank u guys for the support on the teaser <3 i strongly recommend reading it before u begin this!! enjoy hehe ^-^

THE OFFICE FELT ALIVE WITH THE PULSE OF CHRISTMAS.

fairy lights draped the edges of cubicle walls, casting warm hues across the room, and garlands hung over doorways, filling the space with a faint hint of pine scent.

the air had an almost electric feel—holiday music blasted softly from someone’s desk speaker, and laughter echoed from the kitchen, where the holiday potluck was in full swing. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

you took it all in with a quiet sense of satisfaction, enjoying the warmth of the season.

for a few minutes, at least, the festive atmosphere helped you push aside the stress and exhaustion that had weighed on you lately.

financial strain and the challenges of managing your type 1 diabetes were constant pressures, but they were your private burdens, things you carried alone.

here, in the office, you could leave them behind, escape reality—or at least pretend to.

with a sigh, you pulled your scarf off and hung it by your desk, feeling the familiar vibration of your blood glucose monitor.

you checked the reading—steady, for now.

relief was brief, though, as you were quickly reminded of the pharmacy bill due at the end of the month, a larger sum that had grown even more unreachable since your insurance provider had started making cuts.

“hey! finally decided to show up?” a smooth voice cut through your thoughts, laced with the perfect blend of mischief and a hint of mockery.

you turned to see park sunghoon, leaning against the divider between your desks with his signature smirk.

he was dressed in a no doubt expensive, tailored coat, his dark hair disheveled in that way that looked both casual and wealthy.

sunghoon’s presence was an unmistakable reminder that you were, as always, worlds apart.

“yes, i thought i’d take pity and show my face,” you shot back, crossing your arms with an eye-roll. “wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable doing all the work without me.”

“oh, please. like i’d ever let you have all the credit,” he said, grinning as he pushed himself off the desk.

sunghoon’s wealth was an open secret around the office, though he rarely discussed it openly.

still, the designer clothing, the luxury watches, and the effortless way he carried himself spoke volumes.

he was someone who had grown up with privilege in a way you could barely fathom, and sometimes, it felt almost as if he enjoyed reminding you of it.

it was always little jabs, little comments—things he likely didn’t realize cut deeper than intended.

you let out a sigh, unwilling to let him get under your skin today, especially when the holidays usually put you in a good mood.

ignoring his stare, you logged into your computer and prepared for the day’s tasks, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.

but sunghoon didn’t move. instead, he watched you, brows slightly raised, as if daring you to keep ignoring him.

finally, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

“so, what’d you bring for the potluck? or is this going to be another year of pretending you’re too busy to participate?” he teased, a glint in his eye.

you bristled, annoyance prickling at your skin.

sunghoon didn’t know, of course, that you’d barely managed to scrape together enough for groceries this week, let alone something special for the potluck—but his words hit a sore spot nonetheless.

“not that it’s any of your business,” you replied with gritted teeth, meeting his gaze, “but i’ve been a little… preoccupied with other things.”

“oh? too busy for christmas spirit, mrs. grinch?” his smirk softened just a little, but the teasing tone remained. “how tragic. i can’t imagine a holiday without going all out.”

“yeah, well, maybe some of us have other priorities.”

he tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his expression—you could tell he was on the brink of pushing further, maybe digging into what those priorities might be, but before he could, a group of coworkers filed into the room, breaking the tension between you.

after a few hours of emails and spreadsheets, you slipped away for a quick break, heading to the break room.

as you made your way down the hall, you thought about the other expenses coming up—the overdue pharmacy bill, the rent check, and the dozens of smaller costs that added up so fast it felt impossible to keep up.

you’d learned to carry these worries quietly.

no one in the office had ever seen you let your guard down, and you’d grown so used to putting on a brave face that sometimes you believed it yourself.

in the break room, you reached into your bag, pulling out a small protein bar that would have to suffice as lunch.

you barely had time to take a bite before the door swung open, and sunghoon strolled in, his presence instantly filling the small room.

“skipping lunch again?” he asked, nodding at the protein bar in your hand.

you raised an eyebrow. “i could say the same. didn’t peg you for the protein-bar type.”

“oh, please.” he scoffed, moving to grab a coffee pod.

“i just had a massive breakfast. unlike some people, i actually know how to treat myself during the holidays.”

“congrats on the life of luxury,” you muttered, feeling your patience fray.

he chuckled, missing the edge in your voice—or, worse, choosing to ignore it. “well, it’s not for everyone.”

there was something almost infuriating in how casually he threw these little remarks around, as if it were a game.

you often wondered if he had any idea how privileged he sounded or if he was simply so wrapped up in his world that he couldn’t see beyond it.

you hated to admit it, but sometimes his comments stung. deeply.

“you know,” he continued, oblivious, “they’re setting up for the secret santa exchange in the main lobby. you could still join in if you want to spread some christmas cheer.”

you felt the words bubbling up before you could stop them. “not all of us can afford to ‘spread christmas cheer’ the way you do, sunghoon.”

a flicker of confusion crossed his face, and his casual demeanor faltered for a second.

you’d been careful not to reveal much about your personal life, but his relentless teasing had chipped away at your patience.

you could see him trying to piece together what you meant, his smirk fading as he observed you, perhaps noticing the hint of frustration in your expression.

but before he could press further, you gathered your things and left the break room, feeling his eyes on your back as you made your way down the hall.

the week had dragged on, filled with deadlines and holiday preparations you barely had the energy for.

by thursday evening, you’d almost forgotten about the refill you needed at the pharmacy.

but when the notification popped up on your phone—prescription ready for pickup—your stomach twisted.

the monthly pharmacy trip was always a grim reminder of the costs that piled up faster than you could manage.

you entered the pharmacy, still in your work clothes, feeling a familiar combination of dread and fatigue.

the fluorescent lights felt harsh after a long day, casting everything in an unflattering glare.

you waited in line, trying to keep your anxiety at bay, telling yourself that it would be okay.

when you reached the counter, the pharmacist handed over the medication with a sympathetic look.

“i’m sorry, y/n..” she said quietly, glancing down at her screen. “your insurance isn’t covering this anymore. the total comes to… $600.”

the number hit you like a punch. “six hundred?” you echoed, barely able to keep the shock from your voice.

“yes, unfortunately,” she said, her expression softening. “would you like to speak to someone in billing about options?”

you swallowed hard, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

behind you, a couple of people had joined the line, their eyes on you, and you could sense their impatience.

the pressure made it hard to think, and you fumbled for words, barely able to keep from breaking down. “i… i didn’t realize it would be that high.”

your hands trembled as you reached for your wallet, counting bills that would barely make a dent.

you felt the weight of judgment pressing down, and the frustration of the week boiled over into a feeling of helplessness.

in that moment, the walls you’d built so carefully began to crack—suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

“here, i’ve got it.”

you whipped around to see sunghoon, standing just behind you, his expression unreadable.

he held out his card to the cashier, his hand steady, his tone calm. the same calmness you often found infuriating—but now it felt like salt in a wound.

“no!” you blurted, voice louder than you intended. “sunghoon, i don’t need—”

he didn’t look at you, simply held his card out closer to the cashier, who accepted it with a nod.

the transaction beeped through, a small, simple sound that shattered any hope you had of holding onto your pride.

you took a shaky breath, trying to process what had just happened.

the thought of owing sunghoon money—let alone having him swoop in like some hero—made you feel nauseous.

sunghoon handed you the medication bag without a word, his expression unreadable, almost neutral.

but his silence only fueled the resentment bubbling inside you.

“thanks,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze, gripping the bag tightly in your hands.

as soon as you stepped outside the pharmacy, the freezing winter air hit your face, jolting you back to reality.

sunghoon followed, catching up to you in a few strides.

his voice was calm but edged with something sharper, something you couldn’t quite place.

“you’re welcome, by the way,” he said, a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone.

you stopped abruptly, turning to face him, anger flaring up despite the chill that seeped into your bones.

“i didn’t ask you to help me, sunghoon. i really don’t need your charity.”

he scoffed, crossing his arms. “it’s not charity. i was just helping. or is that too difficult for you to accept?”

the words stung—you looked down, heart racing as you struggled to find the right response.

“you don’t get it. you don’t understand what it’s like to need help,” you said quietly, but there was a weight to your words that hung in the air between you.

sunghoon blinked, surprised by the intensity in your tone.

for a brief second, he seemed taken aback, as if realizing for the first time that there were layers to your life he’d never even thought to consider.

but just as quickly, he recovered, his expression hardening.

“maybe i don’t understand,” he said, voice low. “but i was only trying to be a good friend—you clearly needed my help.”

the word “friend” felt heavy, like it didn’t belong.

you’d spent so much time bickering with him, pushing each other’s buttons, that the idea of friendship felt foreign.

“we were never friends, sunghoon,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “not really.”

his face fell, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to see the disappointment in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

he didn’t respond, didn’t argue back. he just stood there, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and simmering emotions.

with a sigh, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone under the dim streetlights.

the next morning, you arrived at the office feeling drained, the argument replaying in your mind like a loop you couldn’t escape.

you’d spent the entire night wrestling with guilt, shame, and confusion.

as much as you hated to admit it, sunghoon had only been trying to help.

maybe his actions felt patronizing, but it wasn’t entirely his fault—you hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about your struggles, either.

you spotted him near the coffee station, and your heart thudded in your chest.

he looked up as you approached, his expression carefully blank, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

“hey,” you began, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “about last night… i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

he looked at you for a moment, studying your face, and you felt the tension ease slightly as a hint of a smile softened his expression.

“apology accepted,” he replied, a glimmer of his usual playfulness returning. “besides, if i can’t handle a little yelling, i shouldn’t be hanging around you, should i?”

you laughed, surprised by how much lighter you felt. “guess not.”

for the rest of the morning, there was a shift in the air between you and sunghoon.

it was subtle, but the tension had softened into something different, something… more understanding.

sunghoon seemed to go out of his way to avoid his usual teasing, and you found yourself appreciating the small moments of consideration—like when he quietly handed you a cup of coffee during a long meeting, or when he offered to take on part of a six page report without asking.

a few days later, the two of you were assigned to a client project that required an off-site visit to the city’s holiday market.

the market was bustling with vendors selling everything from handmade ornaments to spiced apple cider, and festive christmas music filled the air as fairy lights wrapped around pine trees twinkled in every direction.

you walked side by side through the crowds, the cold biting at your cheeks, but the festive atmosphere was infectious.

for once, sunghoon’s competitive edge had softened, replaced by a mutual sense of respect that felt unexpectedly natural.

he paused by a stall selling candied nuts, grinning as he handed you a small bag. “try these—they’re amazing.”

the warmth from the roasted nuts seeped into your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tasted one. “not bad,” you admitted, savoring the sweetness.

he watched you with a soft, almost unreadable expression, his eyes warm in the glow of the holiday lights. “see? i knew i could get you into the christmas spirit.”

you rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heat up, and for once, you couldn’t blame the cold.

“maybe christmas isn’t so bad,” you conceded, though your tone was playful.

you spent the afternoon walking through the market, sharing laughs and stories, with sunghoon’s usual arrogance replaced by a gentle charm that you weren’t familiar with.

there was something tender in the way he looked at you, as if he were seeing you for the first time, and you found yourself stealing glances when he wasn’t looking, wondering if maybe—maybe there was more to him than you’d realized.

the following weeks felt different—lighter, and even with the temperatures dropping even more—it felt unusually warmer.

where there had been tension, there was now an unspoken truce between you and sunghoon.

you’d catch his eye across the room and find a small, almost conspiratorial smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he, too, felt this strange new dynamic between you.

sunghoon’s teasing didn’t completely vanish, but it softened, became something that almost felt like an inside joke between the two of you.

and you found yourself… laughing. a lot. his wit was sharp, his timing impeccable, and his presence that you once found insufferable was now strangely comforting.

one snowy december morning, you arrived at your desk to find a small, neatly wrapped box sitting on top of your keyboard.

you looked around, half-expecting to see sunghoon lurking nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.

the gift wasn’t anything fancy—just a small pack of flavored coffee pods with a tiny note attached in his precise handwriting:

“for when the cafeteria coffee just isn’t enough. -s”

a smile spread across your face, and you felt an unexpected warmth bloom in your chest.

you didn’t know what surprised you more—that he’d noticed your disdain for the cafeteria’s bitter coffee, or that he’d gone out of his way to do something about it.

the gesture was small, almost insignificant, but it felt like a piece of kindness slipped through his carefully maintained armor.

later that day, when you saw him passing by, you couldn’t help but hold up the box and call out, “you know, bribery is illegal in this office.”

he raised an eyebrow, his lips spreading into a smirk.

“consider it a professional courtesy. can’t have you grumbling about the coffee all day and distracting everyone with your complaints.”

“oh, please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes—but you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling that warmth settle even deeper.

sunghoon was watching you, something soft and thoughtful in his gaze, and for a moment, the whole world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.

the holiday season meant long hours at the office, with tight deadlines and clients demanding year-end reports.

you and sunghoon found yourselves frequently the last ones to leave, working side by side in the glow of your computer screens as the office grew quiet around you.

one evening, you’d both stayed late, trying to wrap up a particularly demanding project.

your head was pounding, and you absentmindedly massaged your temples, eyes closed, when you heard the quiet thud of something being set down on your desk.

opening your eyes, you found sunghoon standing there, holding out a cup of tea.

“it’s not coffee,” he said, with a small, awkward smile. “but it’s supposed to help with headaches.”

surprised, you took the cup, feeling your fingers brush his briefly. “thank you,” you murmured, the warmth of the tea seeping through your fingers and into your skin.

you weren’t sure what to make of this new, considerate sunghoon—the same man who once enjoyed riling you up now seemed to be going out of his way to make you feel… cared for.

he didn’t leave, just watched you as you took a sip, his gaze holding a softness that made your heart flutter.

for a moment, you forgot the rivalry, forgot the teasing and the jabs.

all you saw was sunghoon, standing there with a quiet, almost hesitant expression, as if he, too, was trying to understand what was happening between you.

when he finally looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

the silence hung heavy with words left unsaid, and as he walked back to his desk, you felt a strange longing settle in your chest—a longing that surprised and confused you in equal measure.

a week before christmas, the company sent you and sunghoon out to oversee a local holiday event as part of a charity initiative.

the city was sparkling with lights, carols, and people bundled in scarves and coats, laughing and chattering as they browsed the decorated stalls.

snow had started to fall, dusting the sidewalks in soft white powder.

“stick with me,” sunghoon said, giving you a wink as he led the way through the crowd. “we wouldn’t want you to get lost in the holiday rush.”

“oh, please,” you retorted, rolling your eyes—but you fell into step beside him, the easy banter warming you against the chilly air.

you wandered through the market together, occasionally stopping to admire handcrafted ornaments or taste samples of hot peppermint chocolate.

sunghoon even bought you a gingerbread cookie shaped like a snowman, holding it out with a shy grin.

“it’s not much,” he said, as if embarrassed by the simplicity of it.

“it’s perfect,” you replied, surprised by how genuine your own smile felt.

you took a bite, savoring the sweetness, while sunghoon watched you with an expression that made your heart flutter.

as you made your way through the crowd, you felt his hand brush against yours, a barely-there touch that sent a thrill down your spine.

you glanced up at him, half-expecting a smirk, but his expression was serious, his gaze focused on you in a way that made your heart race.

for a few beats, neither of you spoke, the sounds of the bustling market fading into the background.

sunghoon’s gaze held yours, intense and unwavering, and you felt a strange, almost magnetic pull between you.

you didn’t realize how close you were standing until someone bumped into you from behind, breaking the moment.

sunghoon quickly reached out to steady you, his hand firm and reassuring on your arm.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper, his eyes searching yours.

you nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of his hand on your arm. “yeah, i’m fine. thanks.”

he didn’t let go right away, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, just for a second, savoring the warmth and closeness.

when he finally released you, his fingers lingered just a moment too long, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake.

as the evening wound down, you found yourselves standing at the edge of the market, watching the snow fall softly around you.

the streetlights casted a dim, yellow warm glow over the scene, and you could see your breath mingling with his in the chilly air.

sunghoon shifted beside you, his expression unreadable. “you know, i never thought we’d actually get along,” he admitted, his tone quiet, almost hesitant.

“me neither,” you replied, feeling a strange, bittersweet ache in your chest. “guess it took the holidays to bring out the best in us.”

he chuckled softly, but there was something melancholy in his smile. “maybe. or maybe it just took us actually… seeing each other.”

the words hung heavy in the air, their meaning lingering between you.

for the first time, you realized that he hadn’t just been teasing you all those months—maybe he’d been reaching out, trying to connect in the only way he knew how.

and maybe… maybe you’d been doing the same.

the snow continued to fall, soft and silent, as you stood together in a moment that felt suspended in time.

the following monday, you walked into the office to find an unusual hyper buzz in the air.

coworkers were whispering, exchanging knowing looks, and as you made your way to your desk, you could feel their curious glances following you.

“what’s going on?” you finally asked one of your coworkers, trying to ignore the strange, uneasy feeling building in your stomach.

your coworker glanced at you, clearly excited to spill the news. “oh, didn’t you hear? sunghoon’s engaged! his family announced it over the weekend. isn’t that amazing?”

the words hit you like a slap—for a moment, you could only stare, the world tilting around you as the reality sank in.

engaged. park sunghoon was… engaged?

somehow, you managed to keep your composure, nodding along and murmuring something that sounded like congratulations.

but inside, you felt like your heart had been stepped on and crushed into a thousand pieces.

you hadn’t even realized how much he’d come to mean to you until that moment, until the possibility of him slipping out of your life loomed in front of you.

the warmth, the stolen glances, the lingering touches—they all felt like illusions now, shattered by the cold reality of his engagement.

and as the days passed, you found yourself pulling away, avoiding him, unable to face the ache that had settled in your chest.

you convinced yourself it was for the best, that distancing yourself would make it easier.

but each time you caught a glimpse of him—sitting at his desk, laughing with a coworker, or glancing your way with a confused expression—the pain flared, sharp and unyielding.

the annual company christmas party was an elaborate affair held at a high-end hotel ballroom, decked out with garlands, chandeliers wrapped in fairy lights, and a massive christmas tree in the center of the room.

you arrived alone, shivering as the chilly air picked at your bare arms—nerves prickling as you took in the festive crowd of coworkers mingling, laughing, and toasting to the holiday season.

you’d done your best to dress up, but an unmistakable heaviness clung to you—the weight of sunghoon’s engagement lingered, even after avoiding him—you couldn’t escape the haunting of park sunghoon.

you hadn’t spoken to him in days, going out of your way to avoid his attempts to talk.

he’d noticed, of course. the confused glances, the way his brow furrowed when he caught sight of you hurrying out of a room—those small, unspoken moments were like daggers, deepening the ache in your chest.

it hurt more than you’d thought possible, this distance, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

tonight, the ballroom was filled with the sounds of holiday classics, the gentle clinking of glasses, and the murmur of cheerful conversations.

you pushed your way through the crowd, greeting coworkers and accepting the occasional compliment, but your mind kept wandering, searching for him against your better judgment.

when you finally saw him, standing near the christmas tree in a tailored dark suit, your heart twisted painfully.

he looked… incredible, polished and confident as always, but there was something else in his eyes—a tension, a restlessness that you couldn’t place.

he was surrounded by a small group of colleagues, but he seemed distracted, his gaze scanning the room as if looking for someone.

you turned quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, and tried to lose yourself in the crowd.

but even as you made small talk with your coworkers, your attention kept drifting back to him, your heart stubbornly refusing to let go.

at some point in the evening, the lights dimmed, and the band began playing a slow, romantic melody.

a coworker you barely knew approached you, a friendly smile on his face as he offered his hand. “care for a dance?”

the last thing you wanted was to be dragged onto the dance floor, but the thought of standing alone, surrounded by the sight of happy couples, felt worse.

you accepted, letting him guide you to the center of the room.

the music was soft and gentle, filling the room like a quiet whisper—your dance partner was polite, talking amiably as you swayed to the music, but you barely heard a word he said.

your gaze drifted, unbidden, toward sunghoon. he was watching you, his expression hidden in shadow, but you could see the pain in his eyes—a pain that mirrored your own.

for a moment, everything else faded away.

the ballroom, the music, the dozens of people around you—all of it blurred into the background as you met his gaze.

it was a single, suspended moment, one that hung heavy with all the things left unsaid, all the secrets you’d kept bottled up.

sunghoon’s expression was raw, his eyes shining with an intensity that left you breathless.

he looked… devastated, as if the sight of you dancing with someone else was tearing him apart.

a flicker of hope sparked in your heart, but you quickly quashed it, reminding yourself that he was engaged.

and yet… the look in his eyes felt so real, so heartbreakingly genuine, that you almost believed he cared as deeply as you did.

when the song ended, you quickly excused yourself from your dance partner, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

you retreated to the side of the room, fighting to steady your breath as you chugged a glass of champagne, all while trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside you.

moments later, the ceo stepped up to the front of the room, tapping the microphone and quieting the crowd.

he began his speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and loyalty over the past year, his words filled with the usual corporate platitudes.

you listened half-heartedly, your mind elsewhere, still reeling from the intensity of sunghoon’s gaze.

as the ceo’s speech drew to a close, he turned to sunghoon with a broad smile.

“and of course, we can’t end this night without congratulating our very own park sunghoon on his recent engagement!”

a round of applause erupted, and all eyes turned to sunghoon—he stood there, looking cornered, his face a mix of frustration and anguish as he glanced out at the crowd, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

his gaze flicked to you for just a moment, but it was enough for you to see the raw emotion in his eyes—the pain, the longing, and something deeper, something desperate.

the applause began to fade, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the room as everyone waited for him to respond.

you held your breath, watching as he took a deep, steadying breath and then lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally resting on you.

“i… i have something to say,” he began, his voice trembling just slightly, though he tried to mask it with a steady, confident tone. “my parents may have announced an engagement, but i… i can’t go through with it.”

a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, murmurs breaking out as people exchanged shocked glances.

sunghoon held his ground, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt your heart pounding wildly, your entire body frozen as his words sank in.

“i can’t go through with it,” he continued, his voice stronger now, filled with a conviction that made your chest ache. “because… because i’m in love with someone else.”

his words echoed in the silence, hanging in the air like a confession to the whole world—the room was utterly still, every eye fixed on him, but he seemed oblivious to them all, focused solely on you.

your breath caught, and you felt a wave of shock and disbelief wash over you, mingled with a wild, desperate hope.

sunghoon took a step closer towards you, his eyes filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

“i’m in love with you, y/n. i’ve been so in love with you—for longer than i want to admit.”

the entire room was staring now, but all you could see was him.

your heart raced, your mind whirling as you struggled to process what he’d just said—part of you wanted to run, to escape the weight of all those eyes on you, but another part, a larger part, wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and let yourself fall into his arms.

but it was all too much—the crowd, the confession, the overwhelming emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.

without another word, you turned and fled, pushing your way through the stunned crowd, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.

the cold air hit you like a slap, shocking your senses and grounding you just enough to keep you from collapsing under the weight of it all.

you were barely halfway down the steps when you heard footsteps behind you.

“y/n! wait!”

you turned to see sunghoon jogging after you, his face pale, eyes wide with worry.

he reached for you, but you took a step back, shaking your head, barely able to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“why did you do that, sunghoon?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “why did you have to say all that in front of everyone?”

he looked at you, desperation etched into every line of his face. “because i couldn’t keep it inside anymore,” he said, his voice raw, broken. “i couldn’t pretend. not when… not when all i want is you.”

you shook your head, struggling to keep your composure. “you don’t understand. you can’t just… say things like that, sunghoon. you’re engaged—your family…”

“i don’t care about any of that!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “i don’t care about the engagement, the expectations, any of it. none of it matters if i can’t be with you.”

his words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your defenses crumbling, piece by piece.

but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, clawing at you, refusing to let you give in.

“i don’t need your pity,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “i don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

he looked at you, hurt flashing in his eyes. “this isn’t pity, y/n. i’m not trying to save you. i just… i just want to be with you.”

for a moment, you stood there, the silence between you filled with all the things left unsaid.

and then, before he could say anything more, you turned and walked away, the tears finally spilling over as you slipped into the cab and closed the door, leaving him standing there alone in the falling snow.

the next morning, you woke with a heavy heart, the memory of last night replaying in your mind.

you felt raw, vulnerable, and yet, there was a faint glimmer of hope buried beneath the ache—a hope that maybe, this was real.

your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at your door.

you rose, heart pounding, and opened it to find sunghoon standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers, his eyes red-rimmed as if he hadn’t slept.

you’d expected sunghoon to be at the door, waiting with an apology or a question—but you hadn’t expected him to look so vulnerable.

his usual confidence was gone, replaced by a rawness that mirrored everything you’d felt since the night before.

the bouquet he held was a mix of wildflowers and holiday greenery—red berries and sprigs of pine woven among soft white flowers that stood out against the darkness of the early morning.

when you finally took the bouquet from his hands, your fingers brushed his, sending a jolt of warmth through you.

the simple touch said everything words hadn’t—the apology, the relief, and maybe most of all, the overwhelming sense of rightness that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

the silence stretched, each of you looking at the other, feeling the weight of all that had come before and the fragile hope for what might come next.

he looked at you, eyes searching your face with a hesitance that felt new, uncertain.

“y/n…” he began, his voice soft, each syllable filled with a vulnerability you’d never heard before.

“i know last night was… overwhelming. and i’m sorry if i put you on the spot, but i meant every single word.”

you felt your heart flutter, the sincerity in his gaze unshakable—he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he’d been waiting his whole life to hold close.

and that look, filled with quiet awe and devotion, undid every defense you’d carefully built over the years.

“i was afraid to believe it,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i was so afraid that this would all be some fleeting thing for you. that i’d just be another distraction.”

his brows knit together in disbelief, and he reached up, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“a distraction?” he murmured, a trace of pain in his voice. “y/n, you’re the only person i’ve ever been able to be… real with. you see me—beyond my name, beyond the expectations. i didn’t know how much i needed that until i met you.”

for a moment, you just looked at him, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a warm blanket.

every snide comment, every misunderstanding, every late night spent working together—each memory replayed in your mind, and suddenly, it all made sense.

what you’d shared wasn’t just rivalry or convenience; it had been the start of something deeper, something real.

“i’ve wanted to hear that for so long,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “i just… i couldn’t admit it, not even to myself.”

a slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he took a step closer, pulling you into a gentle hug. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close in a way that felt so natural, as if you’d been made to fit there.

he smelled faintly of cedar and pine, a comforting, earthy scent that made you feel warm and safe.

you could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, grounding you as everything else melted away.

“then stay with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “stay with me, y/n. i’ll prove to you that this is real. that i’m all in.”

you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty.

but all you saw was unwavering devotion, a promise he seemed ready to carry for as long as you needed.

“i love you, sunghoon,” you said, feeling the words roll off your tongue, soft and unrestrained, like a sigh of relief after holding your breath for too long.

“i think… i’ve loved you for a long time. even when i couldn’t admit it, even when you drove me crazy.”

a soft laugh escaped him, and he looked at you with an expression filled with wonder, as if he, too, had been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

“i never thought i’d hear you say that,” he whispered, his voice thick with admiration and softness.

“neither did i,” you admitted, your smile mirroring his.

he leaned down, cupping your face with gentle hands as he closed the small distance between you.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, warm, and filled with the quiet certainty that this was where you were meant to be.

the world around you faded, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the lingering taste of his kiss.

the weeks that followed felt like a dream.

for the first time, you let yourself enjoy the simplicity of being with him, unburdened by the anxieties that had once kept you apart.

sunghoon’s presence became a comfort, a steady warmth that you found yourself relying on more and more.

with christmas only a few days away, he insisted on taking you to a secluded cabin his family owned, nestled in a quiet of a forest just outside the city.

when you arrived, snow covered the ground in a perfect blanket, undisturbed and glistening under the faint light of a winter sunset.

the cabin was charmingly rustic, decorated with fairy lights and pine wreaths, and a cozy fire crackled in the stone fireplace, filling the room with a comforting warmth.

sunghoon stood behind you as you both took in the view, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“welcome to our first tradition,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with warmth.

“our first tradition?” you echoed, a smile playing on your lips.

he nodded, pulling you closer. “i want to spend every christmas with you. just like this—peaceful, just us. no crowds, no expectations. just you, me, and… maybe a cup of hot chocolate.”

you laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “i could get used to that.”

he smiled, reaching up to brush a snowflake from your hair—the gesture was so tender, so filled with quiet adoration, that your heart swelled with love for him all over again.

“let’s go inside,” he said, taking your hand. “there’s something i want to show you.”

you followed him into the cabin, where he led you to a small table by the window.

on it was a simple, carefully wrapped box with a red ribbon tied around it—he handed it to you, his eyes warm and expectant.

you opened the box to find a small, delicate charm bracelet with a single charm—a tiny snowflake, etched in silver.

it sparkled under the dim light, catching the glow from the fire.

“it’s beautiful, hoon..” you whispered, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.

he reached out, clasping it around your wrist with a soft smile. “i wanted something that would remind you of this moment. of us.”

your throat tightened, and you looked up at him, feeling an overwhelming wave of gratitude and love.

he’d given you so much more than a gift—he’d given you a promise, a quiet assurance that he was in this for the long haul.

“thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “merry christmas, y/n.”

as you stood there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the snow began to fall outside, blanketing the world in a peaceful, serene quiet.

the warmth of the cabin, the gentle crackling of the fire, and the soft glow of fairy lights filled the space, making it feel like you were in your own little world.

and in that moment, you realized that everything you’d gone through—every argument, every misunderstanding, every long, quiet night spent wondering what could have been—had all been worth it.

because it had led you here, to this moment, to him.

the rest of the night was spent in quiet conversation, sharing dreams and hopes for the future as you watched the snow fall outside.

you talked about everything and nothing, feeling the joy of being together without any walls between you.

the future was a blank canvas, filled with endless possibilities, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to picture it—each memory, each holiday, painted with sunghoon by your side.

as the night drew to a close, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in his arms, the fire casting soft shadows across the room, wrapping you both in warmth.

sunghoon’s heartbeat was a steady lullaby, soothing and constant, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of it, knowing that this was only the beginning.

and as you closed your eyes, a single thought lingered, filling you with a quiet, profound happiness—

you were finally home.

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @sol3chu @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @moon368 @senascoooop @suneng @onlyjjong @blockbusterhee @wensurr @wiccangirl29 @vousmevoxes @heeswif3y @getoxo @50-husbands @wildtigerlili @letwiiparkjay @loves0ft @yuriknows : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

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lustspren · 10 months ago

Text

P.S.T EP. 10 | A Little Piece of Heaven ft Winter.

length: 9.2k words✦

Winter & Male Reader

Special Guest: Noze.

genres: oral sex, rough sex, creampie, public sex, degradation, exhibitionism, squirt, voyeurism, bdsm, lesbian, dirty talk, sexual toy kink, scissoring

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Uhm... don't kill me, please," you said with your hands clasped on the table, Noze sitting in front of you. You were in the hotel lobby, you had let Ning sleep a little longer since it was still quite early in the morning, but you needed to talk to the boss alone.

"Just fucking talk, you're making me nervous," she insisted, crossing her arms, she was looking at you so intently that you had to look away from her so as not to stutter while you spoke.

"I'm sorry," you took a deep breath, "well... I took Ning out through a back alley, but as you well know she wasn't feeling well at all," you began.

"She threw up in the alley?"

"Aha," you nodded, "I reached down with her and picked up her hair, and well, I got distracted."

"And?"

"Flashing lights and the sound of a shutter," you sighed, "some son of a bitch photographed us both, but I managed to catch him in time. Let's just say I got a little rough with him and told some little lies. I told him it was better to negotiate with me unless he wanted me to end his shitty career. 50k for the damn SD card," while you were saying that you took the SD card out of your pants pocket to leave it in front of her.

You stared at her, expecting her to grab a plane ticket from her handbag and send your stupid ass back to Korea, but instead she just laughed, leaving you visibly confused.

"Oh my God!" she said between laughs, "you did amazing!"

"Uh… did I?" You frowned.

"Are you kidding? Only 50k? That's a child's figure at this point," she picked up the SD card and examined it carefully before putting it in her handbag, "give me details, you're making it worth getting up at this hour." "

"...Sure," you nodded, still confused by how composed she looked, "uh... I told her I was SM's representative here in the United States," she burst out laughing again, you sighed.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, damn!" She was laughing at you in your face, and your poker face wasn't helping, "You? SM representative?" more laughter, "the whole branch would collapse!"

"Thank you, how sweet," you said sarcastically.

"Anything else worth noting?" she asked as her laughter faded.

"The son of a bitch cracked his head open and called it an insurance policy in case I scammed him. Then he gave me his contact card," you also took it out of your back pocket and handed it to her.

"He certainly is a son of a bitch, yes," she nodded, looking at the face of the guy on the card, "call him."

"Huh? Right now?"

"Yes, why not? I have a few words to say to him."

"Aight," you nodded, and pulled out your phone to dial the number on the card. As the call rang, you left your phone on the table between the two of you.

"Hello?" the man answered from the other side. Noze quickly grabbed your phone and stood up, walking a few feet away from the table to talk to him. You were left alone at the table, looking at the restaurant menu, already thinking about what you were going to order for breakfast. After a couple of minutes she returned, her expression letting you know that everything had gone well.

"Aight, everything in order," she said, taking her seat again, "later today there will be nothing to worry about," you sighed in relief.

"Fuck, thank god. I was so fucking scared when it all happened," you looked down at your lap, thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't been quick enough to catch that guy.

"I know, I can imagine," she nodded slowly, leaning back in her chair as she stared into space. She made a small silence, "... remember when I told you that SM had given me a second chance?" You looked up, you found her eyes on you.

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

"I think it's time for you to know what happened," she looked down, "in short..." she took a deep breath, "I was in a relationship with one of them," you stayed silent and raised both eyebrows in surprise. You waited for her to continue talking, but she was waiting for you to say something.

"I mean… damn," you didn't really know what to say, you had your slight suspicions about it thanks to certain behaviors of hers, but you never wanted to draw the wrong conclusions, "may I know who?"

"Joohyun-ssi..." you noticed how saying her name made her nostalgic, perhaps melancholy, but a small smile appeared on her face, "you know her as Irene."

"Holy fuck!" you exclaimed, this time genuinely surprised. You fell back and sank into the seat, “I don't know why I thought of Seulgi, how did it happen?”

"In the parking lot of her condo," she looked up at you, "there was a fucking bastard in one of the buildings across the street who took pictures of us while we were kissing."

"No way..." you muttered.

"Aha..." she nodded slowly, "luckily the photographer was only looking for money for the photos, and the girls' manager had to cough up a much larger amount of money than what you coughed up."

"How much?"

“250 million won,” your jaw almost dropped to the floor, that was close to 180 thousand dollars.

"What a damn vulture, that's too much."

"I know, but you see, every manager since then has a small fund for situations like this, so 50k is a pretty small amount compared to others."

"Has this happened to you before?"

"Nope, I'm pretty careful about that, but NCT Dream's manager had to cough up an amount close to 200k because one of them was caught smoking... you know."

"Poor boy," you sighed, "he just wanted to be high for a bit," you managed to get a laugh out of her.

"Anyway, I'm really glad you were able to save Ning like that," she said, looking at you with a smirk, "you're not completely useless after all."

"You're being such a sweetheart today," you said sarcastically.

"I know, right?" she responded, also sarcastically, "and since I'm such a sweetheart, I'm going to lift your punishment."

"It's about damn time, mother of god," you let out a breath and rolled your eyes up in relief, "what a torture."

"Just don't screw up again, honey," she placed her hand on yours across the table, "the girls love you, they'd be so sad if you left."

"And what about you? It seems like you've grown fond of me too now," you teased, seeing her hand on yours.

"Oh, look who's coming down," she said quickly, removing her hand to clasp them in her lap, she looked to your right. As you followed her gaze you saw the four girls walking together towards you, each one already dressed and ready to go out as soon as you finished breakfast.

Ning's outfit let you understand that she had been the last to wake up and had dressed as hastily as possible, but her exaggerated beauty prevented her from looking bad, no matter what she was wearing. She just wore a short black skirt and a tank top of the same color to look as cute as ever. She also carried a Miu Miu clutch.

Jimin, looking as comfortable and confident as ever, had her silky black hair down. A white tank top with small black stripes was her choice for today, along with a pair of white flared pants. Like Ning, she went with a handbag, but this was Prada, which happened to be Miu Miu's sister brand. Random fact you heard from Ning at one of your breakfasts.

Giselle was by far the most alternative of the four, she was wearing khaki pants with loose straps, a sheer black knit sweater, and a sleeveless shirt underneath her. She didn't have a handbag, she just had her phone and her airpods in her hand.

Minjeong, on the other hand, didn't even look like she was going to take a flight, she looked like she was ready to go out and pose at a fashion event. You knew she wanted to stand out from the others that day, and you had your suspicions as to why. She revealed every attractive piece of flesh she had: a black crop top with thin straps, which showed everything from her pretty neck, her collarbone, her chest and her shoulders; a short white skirt (which you recognized was from Gucci), which showed off her flat, appetizing midriff, as well as her pair of slim, long, pretty legs. As expected, her handbag was also Gucci, and a black wool jacket was hanging folded on her forearm. To you she radiated pure sex, but you quickly put the thought out of your head since it was too early to have a boner.

"Did you manage to rest a little more baby?" you asked Ning as she approached with her gaze on you.

"I did, thanks honey," she said with a little smile. When she passed behind you, you felt her make the move to lean over to kiss your cheek, but she stopped short when she remembered where you were. Finally she just sat next to you.

"Pretend a little, will you?" Noze warned, "you two are not alone," you two couldn't do anything but lower your gaze and hold back your laughter at the scolding.

For the next ten minutes Noze dedicated herself to explaining to the girls in detail their next activities and everything she had scheduled for them for the day.

"That's all?" Jimin asked, making a mental note as she looked at her.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Noze said as she took a sip of her watermelon juice, "mister fool will go with us in the van," everyone quickly looked up from their plates to see both you and Noze, with a shared reaction of surprise.

"Is he already out of the dog cage?" Giselle asked, "and that means me too?"

"Aha, control your horny ass next time," Noze warned without looking at her. At that moment you felt how Minjeong, sitting on your right, leaned closer to your ear.

"It's about time you got off house arrest," she whispered in your ear, "I was starting to consider fucking one of the security guys if she didn't let you stretch me out soon," you had to hide your reaction as you ate your omelet.

When you all finished your breakfast you stood up in the rush to make the last preparations before leaving for the airport. The staff members began to fill the lobby with boxes, luggage and other inventory of utmost importance for the tour. You offered to help upload some things, it wasn't your job anymore, but you had done it long enough to get used to it, and besides, the staff was too nice not to help them out from time to time.

Once everything was in order and prepared, you all began to get into the van. You took a seat next to the left window, Jimin sat diagonally to the right, Ning to your right at the other end, and Minjeong right in front of you. Giselle sat behind, focused on her phone. Noze on the other hand settled into the passenger seat while she took out her laptop from her bag.

"So," Jimin took off an airpod to look at Noze, "is he allowed to provide services again?" Noze continued to stare at the screen of her laptop.

"Everything is back to normal," Noze nodded, "but for the love of God, be careful, I won't allow another mistake like that."

As Noze spoke Minjeong made eye contact with you for a few seconds, then she pointed down, and when you looked down she spread her legs as wide as the seat would allow. She hadn't bothered to wear anything under her skirt, so you had a perfect view of her pretty, perfectly shaved pussy. You wanted to tell her something, but you didn't want anyone to hear it.

"I'm going to fucking destroy you," you said, just moving your lips as you looked into her eyes. She just smiled and looked out the window, crossing her legs again.

Upon arriving at the airport you quickly went through each checkpoint since the private jet that would take you to Dallas was already ready to take off. As you boarded and settled into the cabin you examined the interior, the jet was not as spectacular as the one that brought you to America, but it was already much better than an average plane, and it was quite nice. Light wood interiors and perfectly shiny champagne leather seats.

As soon as you entered, there were four seats forming a square, two on the left and two on the right. Then there were two double seats with a table in the middle, and to the left, a small table with a large drawer underneath. In the last area of the cabin, a large sofa, and a door that you assumed was the bathroom. Minjeong quickly took your hand and pulled you with her to the double seats so that you sat next to her, a move that worked perfectly because the four missing girls had taken the four missing seats behind you. Nobody was going to see anything.

Minjeong didn't waste a single second of time, as soon as you settled into the seats she grabbed your right forearm and brought your hand straight between her legs, your fingers now touching her pussy.

"Just use one finger..." she murmured in your ear, "I really need to feel myself stretching around that cock while we're at cruising altitude."

"That's kinda kinky, Minjeong-ah," you murmured back, rubbing your fingers up and down between her folds.

"Are you kidding? That sounds like an incredible idea to me..." she gasped as she looked at you, "you fucking me forty thousand feet up… just imagine that."

"So naughty, my god," you smiled, finally taking a finger inside her tight pussy as the plane raised its nose and rose into the air.

When your finger reached as deep as it could go inside her pussy you began to slowly move your wrist, causing Minjeong to let out an audible little moan that made you stop for a second because you were sure someone would have heard it.

"Everything okay back there?" you heard Noze ask.

"Everything's perfect, boss," Minjeong replied, biting her lower lip in the middle of a smirk. Out of curiosity, you looked over the side of your seat. Ning had already fallen asleep, Jimin was reading a book, and Noze was focused on her laptop. You couldn't fully see Giselle since she was behind you, but you noticed that she was playing Brawl Stars on her phone.

"Keep fucking quiet," you muttered as you turned back around and resumed pumping your wrist.

"Let go, idiot," she snapped with her mouth half open, bringing her hand to your cock over your sweatpants to massage it between gasps.

After a few seconds she took your cock out of your sweatpants and started rubbing it up and down, following the rhythm of your wrist while your finger went in and out of her. She had her lips pursed, stifling as many moans as she could just like you.

As soon as she noticed that the plane had gained enough altitude, she took off the belt that held her waist and stood up. You also took off your seat belt, and when she passed in front of you to get out of the seats, you stood up and followed her to the bathroom. It was more spacious than a normal plane, but your recent experiences let you know that it was nothing so impressive.

When you both entered you didn't even have time to lock the door behind you before she was already bent over the sink, her skirt wrapped around her waist and her pretty ass exposed for you.

"Not a coffee or anything?" you joked, standing behind her with a little smile.

"Shut up and fuck me raw asshole," she ordered, looking over her shoulder with a sensual look, "rip off those pants and put all that juicy cock inside me, I need to feel stretched and filled by you."

You knew that Minjeong was by far the horniest and most sex-crazed of all the girls, but she never ceased to amaze you how dirty she could talk sometimes. You didn't want to make her wait any longer, so you pulled down your sweatpants and boxers in a single pull towards your ankles to free your cock. One hand of yours went to her waist, and with the other you took your cock to rub it between her folds up and down, you let out a spit towards your cock and lubricated it well, and without any more time to waste you went all the way inside her, remembering how incredibly good her extremely tight and hot pussy felt.

"Oh my god..." you gasped, resting your pelvis against her buttocks as her pussy walls stretched around your shaft, "I missed this tight little pussy."

"Yeah? Because you're filling me up so fucking good," she moaned with her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you, "do you like the way my pussy squeezes that cock daddy?" another of them who called you that way, two out of four.

"I fucking love it," you growled, giving both of her buttocks a hard squeeze and then spanking one of them. Minjeong squealed, and you started pumping your hips back and forth.

Minjeong's folds kept a firm grip around your cock, which was smothered from all directions by her warm, tight pussy walls. Your fingers held tightly to her small waist, feeling her soft flesh against your skin as your cock moved completely in and out of her fragile frame. In a few seconds she was already being hammered by your cock, and her moans began to echo off the bathroom walls.

You and her were locked in a bubble of pure lust and desire, which held strong for a few more thrusts until a series of frantic knocks on the door made you stop in your tracks.

"You better open that damn door immediately!" you heard Noze exclaim from the other side. Minjeong cleared her throat in annoyance, and with your balls deep inside her she left the sink to lean towards the door.

"What can I do for you?" Minjeong said with a false tone of friendliness after opening the door wide open. Noze did not look at all disturbed by the lewd scene before her eyes.

"Look, this tour is going to kill me with a migraine one of these days, so if you would be so kind, go fuck in the cabin so I can watch you and distract myself a little," she made eye contact with you as she spoke, and just God knows how intimidated yet surprised you felt. You didn't know what to say or do, you were on autopilot at that moment, and never better said.

"And what about the girls?" Minjeong asked.

"Do you care?" Noze returned.

"Not really, I love having an audience," saying that Minjeong straightened her body and made your cock come out of her pussy. Noze looked at it for a few seconds and then looked into your eyes, until she turned around and took the lead, Minjeong followed her, and you followed Minjeong.

"All the spotlight is on you, show off," Noze said as she returned to her seat. You had taken off your sweatpants and boxers along the way, and now you were completely naked from the waist down standing behind the seats where Ning and Giselle were. Minjeong unbuttoned her skirt and lowered it to her heels, where she also took off her heels before getting on her hands and knees with her ass raised facing you.

“Come and fuck me daddy, it's show time,” Minjeong said, looking back over her shoulder at you.

"Jesus Christ, are you really going to do this here right now?" Giselle said with a giggle to your left as you knelt behind Minjeong.

"Orders from above, nothing to do about it," you replied to Giselle in English, before spitting again on your cock and plunging back into Minjeong's tight pussy. Her ass rested against your pelvis, and with a spank to her milky buttock you began to fuck her again, this time with Noze's gaze on you.

"Do you like what you see, boss?" Minjeong asked Noze between squeals of pleasure, as you slapped her ass with each thrust, "He's stretching my pussy so fucking good, mhmmm!"

"What a slut..." Giselle mentioned next to you, watching you out of the corner of her eye while she played on her phone. Ning on the other hand was still fast asleep, and Jimin wasn't even bothering to pay attention to you.

"I bet you're pretty fucking horny right now huh?" Minjeong teased Noze, who had already unbuttoned her pants to put a hand inside them, "Fuck yeah, you love what you see, who knew," you gave her another hard spank so she screamed in pleasure, your cock frantically hammering her pussy.

"Shut your damn mouth Minjeong," Noze moaned as she bit her lip, "and you," she looked into your eyes, "lie on your back, I want to see how she rides you," you did so, pulling out of Minjeong to lie on the floor, she straddled you to impale herself on your cock again, but Noze intervened, "not like that, turn around," Minjeong raised an eyebrow and turned around, to ride you in a reverse cowgirl position.

"So you want to look me in the eye while I jump on this cock, huh?" Minjeong said with a mischievous giggle as she took you inside her again, beginning to sensually move her hips back and forth. You had perfect views, Minjeong's ass moving on your cock and meters ahead, Noze fingering herself between discrete moans.

"Oh my god... look at that bulge on your abdomen," Noze moaned, and she proceeded to remove both her pants and her panties. She spread her legs wide, and that was your first view of her pussy. Your mouth watered, “Jimin-ssi…” she motioned for Jimin to listen to her, Jimin took off one of the headphones and turned to look at her, “would you mind coming over here and putting that tongue to work?”

"Fuck, Adolin is about to have his duel against Relis and Jamakav," Jimin complained, closing 'The Way of Kings' and removing her headphones, "you owe me a favor."

Jimin knelt in front of Noze's seat, and without thinking twice she plunged her face right into her crotch. Noze moaned louder as she held Jimin by her hair, being eaten in the best possible way by a tongue that you knew was not inexperienced with.

"I can't believe you agreed that easily..." Minjeong moaned, teasing Jimin, who gave her the middle finger while she ate Noze's pussy. Minjeong planted her feet on the floor on either side of your hips, leaned back to rest her hands on your arms, and began jumping up and down quickly, making the bulge on her stomach even more visible for Noze. You groaned in pleasure, feeling Minjeong's pussy tighten around your shaft, and enjoying everything that was happening in front of your eyes.

"I'm so close, fuck!" you said with a moan, already feeling at the point of no return thanks to Minjeong's jumps on your cock and the image of Noze being devoured by Jimin, who seemed to be putting her soul and sweat into her work, since boss’s face was pure pleasure.

"Creampie her!!" Noze squeaked to your surprise, tangling her fingers in strands of Jimin's hair.

"You heard her daddy… drain those balls into my tight little pussy," Minjeong moaned, looking down at you over her shoulder. She started jumping faster and harder, you groaned in pleasure, and brought your hands to her waist to help her go all the way up and down your throbbing cock.

After a few seconds in which Minjeong didn't stop jumping on your cock for a single second, you exploded. You growled deep in your throat, feeling yourself shoot your load into her warm pussy. Feeling the thick, hot liquid inside her, Minjeong gave one last hard push down and brought her orgasm. Her moans filled the entire cabin, and in search of increasing her pleasure she began to grind her hips back and forth with your cock deep inside her pussy, still shooting cum.

For Noze, the climax was also a matter of seconds, she just had to watch how Minjeong very slowly took your cock out of her pussy, and how the cum spilled out of it, to press Jimin's face towards her pussy while her orgasm made her scream. You also heard a moan from Jimin as she ate out Noze while she came.

"Fuck, you made her completely full," Noze moaned, "do you feel full and stretched already, Minjeong-ah?" she asked looking into her eyes.

"Very, very full and stretched by this juicy, delicious, magnificent cock," Minjeong agreed, getting off of you to kneel on your side, lean towards your crotch and start cleaning your cock, lower abdomen and balls between licks and sucks. She didn't stop until your cock was completely clean and she had swallowed all your cum.

"Like I was telling you..." Jimin pulled away from Noze's pussy as she wiped her chin, "you owe me a favor," she remarked before returning to her seat, putting on her headphones, and returning to the book.

"Ah... yeah, sure," Noze nodded, still spread-legged, realizing everything that had happened, she made eye contact with you, and then with Minjeong, "Uhm... get dressed and get comfortable, there's still a couple of hours left to land," she said with slightly blushing cheeks.

"Nice wet pussy, boss," Minjeong teased with a giggle, "but next time let me eat it myself… it looks so yummy."

—------------------------------

Upon landing in Dallas, none of you had time or mind to talk about what happened while you were more than ten thousand meters high, everything was a slight chaos and rush as soon as you set foot in the airport, and within an hour you were already at the hotel where you were going to stay. Everyone, both members and staff members, you and Noze, went to your respective rooms to rest as soon as everything was in order.

You didn't have any plans for that afternoon, so you invited Ning (as always, going through Noze's approval first) to your room to watch a movie before bedtime. You and her had a nice little time watching The Batman, cuddling on your bed and sharing a few little kisses until the movie ended, and then spending 15 minutes discussing the movie until she had to left.

When you were left alone in your room, the first thing you did was go take a long, relaxing bath that helped you get rid of all the tiredness and physical exhaustion that you had accumulated throughout the day. You left the bathroom, got dressed, and lay down on your bed to take out your phone and let the ITZY girls know that you were already in the next city safe and sound. The next day's activities forced you to go to sleep early that night, so as soon as you read the girls' answers and said goodbye to them, you turned off all the lights in your room and fell asleep.

------------------------------------

The next morning you tried to talk to Noze about what had happened to no avail, since as soon as you all finished breakfast she started giving orders left and right. She had ordered you in particular to go to the venue and prepare everything in the dressing room with the stylists team and makeup artists. Everything took longer than you had estimated and you no longer had any time to go to the hotel and then come back, so you just told Noze that you were going to wait for them there.

The girls arrived at the venue after about fifteen minutes, but you didn't have time to talk or even interact with any of them since they had to rush through sound tests, wardrobe tests, and then put on makeup. Hours passed, and you noticed how the crowd of people began to fill the place. When you least expected it, it was time for them to go on stage, and you stayed with Noze on the side stage while you watched the concert.

"Are we going to talk about that little scene on the plane or...?" You brought the topic up from under the table, Noze took a deep breath, tilted her head and crossed her arms with her eyes on the stage. The girls were performing Savage at the time.

"Look, I promise we'll talk about it at some point, but for now don't pressure me, okay?" She turned to see you, you were both shoulder to shoulder, so when you turned your head too, your faces were not very far from each other.

"It's okay, I'm sorry," you said, looking into her eyes, "I didn't mean to, I just didn't expect that."

"I understand, but we'll talk about it," she assured, also looking at you, "now shut up and watch the concert."

"I've already seen it 3 times," you both turned again to look at the stage.

"You have the chance to see those four goddesses performing from here, take it."

"Well, you have a point."

------------------------------------

When the concert ended you helped the staff store all the things and load them into the vans, after that, you got into the van with the girls and Noze and returned to the hotel. Everyone went to their respective rooms to take baths before going down to dinner or to sleep, but your plans were to order some food that night and lock yourself up until one of the girls required your attention. The message didn't take long to arrive, and you didn't even have time to order your food.

As soon as you answered Minjeong you stood up and opened your suitcase to change into something more comfortable. Your choice was a pair of navy blue sports shorts, an oversized black Nike hoodie, and your granite Yeezy Sliders. You didn't care too much about arranging your hair so well, or putting on perfume or anything like that, you only had your phone and barely a half-finished pack of Mentos in your pockets. The only thing you made sure you had covered was to tell the boss.

You waited for a few minutes for Noze to respond, but the messages never arrived, which you found very strange indeed. She always responded the minute you said something, and you could only think of two things, either she was taking a shower, or she had already fallen asleep. You doubted both, but you left your room anyway and headed to Minjeong's.

When you got to Minjeong's room you didn't even bother to knock on the door or call her, you just opened it wide as if it were your room. What happened on the plane was insignificant compared to what you saw now in front of your eyes, and now you knew why Noze wasn't answering your messages. Minjeong was tied by the ankles and wrists behind her back with thick visibly tight red ropes, next to her, Noze completely naked as she inserted a not at all small dildo into Minjeong's pussy.

"Wow," you hurried inside and locked the door behind you, Minjeong and Noze turned to look at you, "What's going on, what the fuck."

"Well, it looks like we don't need fake cocks anymore," Noze said, looking at you, and then took the dildo out of Minjeong's pussy, who let out a moan. She had her legs up with her thighs pressed against her abdomen, so you had a perfect view of her pussy and her butthole soaked in what looked like Noze's saliva.

"This is certainly not how I imagined I would see you naked for the first time," you told Noze, scrutinizing her small, tight, toned body. She didn't have the biggest ass or tits, but she was sexy on a level that you didn't even know how to explain.

"Bold of you to think you were going to see me naked before all this," she said, putting the dildo aside to stand up and go sit on the single couch on the right side of the room, in front of the window covered by the curtains.

"Was I wrong?" you teased.

"It doesn't matter, because you're seeing me naked right now," she spread her legs and grabbed one of those microphone-shaped vibrators, "pretend I'm not here and get to work."

"It's hard when your pussy is looking me right in the eye," you said, placing your phone on a small bench at the foot of the bed. You took the packet of fruit mentos out of your pocket and popped one into your mouth.

"You're gonna keep talking to her or are you gonna come here and fuck my brains out?" Minjeong teased from the bed, she had managed to lie on her side.

"We already played your little game on the plane, Minjeongie," you climbed onto the bed with her and got on your knees as you took off your hoodie, "but now it's my turn, and I'll do whatever I want with you."

"Then go ahead and use me as a puny sex toy daddy," she told you, biting her lip.

"Finger her and make her cum," Noze ordered to your right. You heard the vibrator turn on.

"You're lucky we think the same," you replied to Noze, "let's keep it up and I think our Minjeongie will end the night completely destroyed."

You took off your sliders and sat on the bed, pulling your shorts and boxers down to your ankles and off your legs with a single tug. Now the three of you were completely naked. The first thing you did was kneel in front of Minjeong's ass to lean forward and start filling the side of her face with kisses. Your mouth moved from her jaw to her chin, from where you moved down to her neck to fill it with hickeys and wet kisses. Minjeong shifted between gasps beneath you. Her ass rubbed against your balls, and when she noticed it she continued moving her hips to try her luck and thus press herself against your hard cock. Not wanting her to get what she wanted, you placed her body on her back and now took her perky little tits to your mouth.

Minjeong let out small moans as your tongue met her soft nipples and stimulated them between licks, kisses and sucks. Your hands roamed all over her slender body, using your massage skills to hit the right parts and make her melt beneath you. The notable parts that you identified as weak points for her were her lower abdomen, her lower back, and her inner thighs. You would remember that later.

While you continued devouring her tits you placed one hand between her thighs and ran your two fingers up and down between her slit, her folds already soaked and slimy. Maybe Noze had already made her cum before? It was most likely, but tonight you wanted to see Minjeong completely ruined and at your mercy. You took two fingers inside her, both sliding in easily, eliciting a louder squeal.

"Slap and degrade that whore if she dares to speak, she is not allowed," ordered Noze, who saw out of the corner of your eye how she already had the vibrator pressed to her clit, "she is just our sex slave right now."

"Did you hear that, baby?" You asked Minjeong as you continued sucking on her tits and began to move your wrist at a moderate speed, fingers in and out of her pussy, "you better stay silent."

"It's not like I dislike that punishment," she teased with an evil smile, and since you had your good hand busy, you spit on her cheekbone, "oh fuck yes, spit on me daddy..." she moaned, and you pulled out your fingers from her pussy just to have your hand available to slap her hard, make her gape her mouth and spit into it.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm not going to repeat it," with that said you proceeded to move your wrist as hard as you could, filling the hotel room with the sounds of your palm slapping against her buttocks, the wet sounds and Minjeong's moans. Noze still didn't dare to raise her voice too much, but with every second that passed you heard her moan louder.

You dove back into Minjeong's tits, sucking on both nipples as your fingers stretched her tight pussy non-stop. Your wrist was a machine at its maximum power, made to make the tied girl's body a tangle of tremors and small spasms of pleasure perfectly hitting her sensitive spot. While your tongue and fingers drove Minjeong crazy you turned your head slightly to make eye contact with Noze, who was still with the vibrator still firmly pressed against her pussy. Her face distorted with pleasure was a poem to you, as was watching her squirm.

"S-Stop looking at me..." Noze said, looking away, now to see Minjeong, "cum, you fucking whore."

You stopped watching her not because you wanted to, but because Minjeong started screaming the way she did when she was close to cumming. She opened her mouth to say something, but her position made her remember that it was not her role to do so, so she just bit the pillow that was next to her and in a matter of seconds she exploded around your fingers, which were soaked with her warm fluids and dripped part of their thighs.

"Mmm, you cummed a lot honey," you smiled, moving up to give her more kisses on her neck. Then you grabbed her chin and forced her to look at you with slightly glassy eyes, "now it's your turn to satisfy daddy, would you like that?" She just nodded, "Good girl."

"But I wanted you to eat her pussy!" Noze protested.

"Come and do it yourself then, cutie," you said looking at her, she seemed a little surprised at your boldness, but she didn't refuse either. She stood up while you knelt on the side of Minjeong's face, climbed onto the bed and went to work on the knot in Minjeong's heels.

"I have a better idea," once she untied the knot holding Minjeong's legs, she spread them wide and settled into a scissors position with her, "mmm, so wet and hot," Noze moaned, as she pressed their pussies together, then she looked at you, "what are you waiting for? fuck that pretty face."

"As ordered boss," you nodded, taking your cock in one hand and looking down at Minjeong, who was already beginning to move her hips to rub her pussy against Noze's while she looked at your flesh with eyes of pure desire, "You're craving it huh?" you teased, slamming your cock against her lips. She stuck her tongue out immediately to make your tip smack against it.

"Mmmhm, of course she does," Noze moaned, holding on to one of Minjeong's legs as she ground her hips, "she's a slut who enjoys being used."

You brought your left hand behind Minjeong's neck, holding her head to raise it and bring your cock directly to her mouth. Her lips closed around your cock and put pressure on it, you let her move her head on her own for a few seconds in which she could only suck half of your shaft and leave it shiny with her saliva, but her moment of freedom was over when you brought both hands to her head and started pumping your hips back and forth.

As your cock made its way through her warm mouth you noticed her throat showing some resistance past the middle of your shaft, but you weren't there to be merciful or patient, so you didn't give a shit if she choked or not, you just pushed forward. Minjeong coughed and gagged and squirmed for air, but you didn't stop until your cock was buried deep in her throat in a thick pool of saliva, spilling out the sides of her mouth and dripping down to the sheets.

Noze meanwhile was clinging to Minjeong's thigh between no longer timid moans, you turned to look at her as she bit her lip and rubbed against Minjeong's pussy as if her life depended on it. You, on the other hand, began to pump your hips back and forth, with Minjeong's cute little teary eyes looking at you and her mouth moaning around your cock since it wasn't just Noze who was receiving pleasure from what she was doing.

A growl left your throat as you felt Minjeong's throat get used to your length, now allowing you to move harder without fear of hurting her in any way. You grabbed a fistful of her hair and held onto it to move her head towards your cock with each thrust, you wanted to reach out and touch her clit too, but that meant risking touching Noze, and since you didn't know if she was okay with you touching her, you just didn't do it.

Noze was immersed in her own world at that point, just listening to the sound of your cock hitting Minjeong's throat with each thrust and grinding her hips desperately in search of an orgasm that was not long in coming. You had already seen her cum just hours ago, but she impressed you again with how incredibly hot and sexy her face looked while her body writhed in pleasure. She rubbed her own clitoris and also Minjeong's, squeezing out every last drop of ecstasy. Her moans filled the room and echoed in your ears, you could tell she barely had time to please herself by how liberated she sounded.

Minjeong, who not only enjoyed how Noze touched her but also how you fucked her throat as if she were just an object, moaned from the depths of her being and let out a few tears that ran down her cheeks and mixed with the saliva that spilled from her mouth. You pulled her hair hard and carelessly, pumping your cock completely in and out of her mouth. Since you had one hand free and you already considered that her tits had had enough attention, you had no choice but to bring it to her neck, where you pressed your fingers firmly and felt how your cock bulged every time you reached the her throat. That drove you completely crazy and fueled your flame, you felt closer and closer to cumming.

"Where do you want me to cum, boss?" you asked Noze without looking at her, just looking at Minjeong's weak, blushing, pleasure-drunk face while you ruined her angelic face with your cock.

"Fill her throat with cum, don't let her waste a damn drop," Noze growled, biting her lower lip, she had stopped rubbing her clit to now focus on Minjeong's, "I'll make that whore squirt."

You removed your right hand from Minjeong's neck to now bring it to her head next to the other, now with both grips on her hair you became a complete animal and began to hit her throat without any mercy, as hard and fast as you could. Minjeong, recognizing what you liked most, stuck out her tongue and pressed it against the back of your cock, which now rubbed against it with each pump and ended up putting the icing on the cake.

As you reached your orgasm you buried Minjeong's head towards you and started shooting your entire load down her throat, just in time for Minjeong to reach her second (maybe third) orgasm of the night, this time more wild and with an extra prize. A stream of squirt shot out of Minjeong's pussy as she twisted her hips between spasms, which soaked Noze's entire chest and also the sheets.

You couldn't help but grunt in pleasure as Minjeong squealed around your cock and you shot thick streams of cum straight down her throat, her moans mixed with strong gag reflexes, but she was able to get through it without much trouble as she swallowed every drop she received. When you emptied your load you came out of her mouth, and she could finally breathe properly.

"You sure did a good fucking job huh?" you said looking at Minjeong, with her mouth, her chin and almost every part of her upper body stained with saliva in some way. Her hair had also become very disheveled and some of her makeup had smudged.

"Don't you even dare give her a break," Noze said, climbing on top of Minjeong's body to kiss her in a torrid and passionate way, you had to lean back so as not to touch Noze, although in the same way, she was practically tasting both your cock and your cum in that kiss. You didn't comment on anything.

"Well I need to handle her as I please, so could you get off of her," you said sitting on your calves as the two of them continued kissing.

"I want her to eat me, so find the position that seems best to you," Noze asked, looking at you out of the corner of her eye to get off of Minjeong.

"I already fucked her from behind earlier, so a missionary will be perfect," with that said you waited for Noze to completely pull away before going and kneeling between Minjeong's trembling legs. You looked at her, her face said she was exhausted, but her eyes screamed at you to fuck her with the strength of a bull.

"I'm sorry for having to cover her pretty face," Noze said, straddling Minjeong's face and surprisingly facing you, "I know you want to see her cry and spit on her like the slut she is, but I need to cum one more time, sweetness," She said all this while looking you straight in the eyes, and again you felt somewhat intimidated.

"Use her as much as you want, I know you need it," you nodded, not bothering to hide how you looked at her pretty little tits and her flat, toned stomach.

"You're going to ogle me," she said as you grabbed Minjeong's legs and spread them wide, hands on her trembling thighs, "at least hide it."

"Nah, you're beautiful and your body makes my mouth water, why hide it," Noze raised an eyebrow at your compliment and while maintaining eye contact with you, she lowered her hips to sit on Minjeong's face, who started to eat and caused her to let out a long, sensual moan inches from you.

"Improve those hook up lines, you're not telling me anything I don't already know," she said arrogantly, and in response you played the same game, maintaining eye contact with her as you took your cock inside Minjeong's pussy. She moaned against Noze's pussy, and she gasped as a result.

From that moment on, you and Noze locked yourself in a common bubble in which Minjeong gave you incredible satisfaction and pleasure, her with her skillful tongue and you with her tight pussy, which suffocated your cock even after you had stretched it with your fingers a few minutes ago. Noze played with Minjeong's tits, pinching her nipples with her fingers and also using her mounds as support to grind her hips into her face.

You kept a firm grip on Minjeong's thighs, pressing them back and consequently raising her pelvis slightly. You couldn't lean forward to fuck her into her mattress since Noze was in the way, so you just worked from that same position. You didn't need to be patient, just a few seconds with your cock deep in her pussy were enough for her to get used to it and give you the green light to fuck her.

Noze grinded her hips faster and harder against Minjeong's face, in a way that made you confirm her past as a dancer, almost hypnotic and sensual like few things you had seen in your life. Not being able to do anything but move your hips, you stared at her, and for a few seconds you imagined that you were not fucking Minjeong, but her. That made you moan, and strangely you felt a small boost of arousal in you.

She was looking at you too, she licked both of her fingers and you naively thought they were for you, but she reached for Minjeong's pussy and started rubbing her clit again. Now her hand was dangerously close to your cock as it went in and out, but to your disappointment, you knew she wouldn't touch it.

Seeing her hand so close to your cock was somewhat tortuous for you, so in order not to see it you put Minjeong's legs together, with her two feet in the air and her heels held together, that way her thighs covered what was happening behind. Still, you prevented Minjeong's feet from blocking your vision, so you continued watching Noze grinding against Minjeong's mouth between loud moans.

With your hands pressing her thighs back, your cock slamming against her pussy as fast as your hips would go, and Noze's fingers stimulating her clit, Minjeong's body became a trembling mess that Noze benefited from, her thighs pressed on either side of Minjeong's head. She stopped looking at you to close her eyes and purse her lips to drown out her screams of pleasure. You noticed that she was close, but what gave Noze the finishing touch was Minjeong's orgasm, who screamed and shook under her.

"OH FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!" Noze screeched.

With both girls cumming in front of you, you couldn't do anything but pump your hips slower and wait patiently for both petite bodies to stop squirming and shaking. Noze wanted to collapse forward, but when she saw that you were there she did so but in the opposite direction, resting her hands on her mattress and falling off of Minjeong's face, who seemed anything but energetic.

"Don't… don't stop using me daddy," Minjeong said in a low voice, still breathing very heavily, "you haven't put another load inside me yet," rules were rules, so you slapped her hard.

"You still have energy left to take daddy's load huh?" you teased, leaving her pussy to grab her by the waist and lay her face down. For the first time in a while you saw her red hands tied behind her back.

“I could do this all night…” Minjeong replied, looking at you from the corner of her eye. Two strong and spicy spanks on each buttocks, both of them left red.

"I don't doubt it, you are a dirty high caliber sex toy..." you got on top of Minjeong's body, took your cock in your hand to take it between her buttocks and dive deep into her pussy again, to fuck her in prone bone.

Minjeong let out a breathless grunt of pleasure as she felt you inside again. You left your hands resting on the mattress on either side of her body, beginning to pump quickly up and down and pinning her against the mattress with all the weight of your body. With each thrust she let out small moans without energy, not because she was not enjoying it, but because her body was almost in vegetable mode at that moment, product of many intense orgasms in a row and without rest, not to mention that she was deprived of comfortable breathing twice.

You growled like a primal beast, bringing one of your hands to her hair to forcefully pull it back and the other to her lower back, under her tied wrists, you pressed there, and Minjeong began to pant and grunt more.

"Mmmmmghhh, just like that, yes yes yes," she grunted, then letting out little whimpers as you hammered her pussy up and down, already feeling close to your ecstasy, "don't you fucking stop daddy, oh my god!"

Your hand moved from her hair to her neck, pressing it down to crush the side of her face against the pillow. A drop of sweat fell from your forehead to her pretty back, and with a few more hard thrusts you started another load inside her pussy. This was the trigger for Minjeong's last orgasm of the night, the one that was going to leave her completely ruined.

"Oh my god Minjeong!" You groaned in pleasure, feeling her pussy walls tighten almost painfully around your cock as you shot your last drops of cum into her, moving your hips slowly up and down. She didn't make any sound as she came, you could only see her lost eyes and her mouth half open as her body spasmed in every corner.

"I... need to go to the bathroom," said Noze, who had watched everything in complete silence, "i-it won't be long," you turned to look at her as you pulled out of Minjeong's filled pussy. She didn't seem happy at all, in fact, you could see her eyes filling with tears as she got off the bed.

"Uhm… are you o…kay?" you asked unsuccessfully as Noze went into the bathroom. You heard how she locked it.

You were left alone there with Minjeong, who was nothing more than a lifeless rag doll at that moment. Her pussy dripping with cum and her body still not getting over the slight spasms. There was nothing to clean since Noze had locked herself in the bathroom, so you had to make do with a random piece of clothing you found on the floor to clean yourself and Minjeong. Then you just laid down next to her and rested.

After about 15 minutes Noze finally came out of the bathroom, you noticed her eyes were somewhat red. She had definitely been crying, but you didn't want to push her.

"Aight, I'm fine, stop looking at me with those worried puppy eyes," she insisted, reaching for her clothes, "I just had a... mental breakdown."

“You sure?" you asked, sitting on the bed, watching her as she put on her panties and bra.

"Yeah, dork, now get dressed so we can get out of here, she needs to sleep peacefully," she pointed with her chin at Minjeong, who was still in the exact same position you had left her in, "she'll manage in the morning. "

"Fair enough," you sighed, stood up and dressed as quickly as you could with Noze. None of you made eye contact with each other, you just turned off the lights, turned on Minjeong's air conditioning and walked outside, separating paths towards your respective rooms.

—---------------------------------

Spren Notes: P.S.T is back :0

#winter smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #x male reader smut #noze smut #wayb noze smut #x male smut #x male reader #male reader smut

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sashaisready · 1 month ago

Text

Starting Over: Chapter 5 - Better

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Hi! I'm sorry this took so long, work has been kicking my bum lately and I haven't had much writing time. But it's here - the final part! I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who has reblogged/commented/engaged with this story - it means so much. Thank-you!!

💔

One week later…

You were cleaning tables when you glanced at the diner’s clock and realised it was almost 9am. Friday was here once again…

…Would he be in as usual?

It was raining heavily outside, throughout the early shift your regulars had rushed in and shaken the sogginess off their coats and umbrellas once they were safely over the threshold of the diner. You’d chatted with them, commiserating with them about ‘this damn weather’ and promising to warm them up with coffee and breakfast.

You’d spent your time off this last week popping into the hospital to see Lou. He was doing well, making progress, but the road to recovery was long. He needed to make major adjustments to his lifestyle and potentially engage in physical therapy as they think he’d also had a small stroke. He got his personal mail delivered to the diner and asked you to open it and keep him updated with anything pressing. The medical bills you’d seen were already dizzying and his insurance only covered part of it, but you couldn’t bother him what that just yet – he didn’t need the stress on top of everything else. You’d figure it out. You always did.

Lou had made you acting manager to pick up the slack while he was gone. You were pulling extra hours, working overtime to ensure the ship remained afloat while the captain remained on the shore. It was tough, but you couldn’t deny you loved the buzz of being in charge – of keeping everything moving.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since that night at the hospital. He’d insisted on driving you home after you’d said goodbye to Lou, ignoring your protests that the subway was perfectly fine…

“The subway, doll? Fuck no. Not on my watch”.

You’d rolled your eyes, knowing you didn’t have the energy to fight him after the evening you’d had. He knew it too. You’d merely sighed and hopped into the back of his SUV as you gave him your new address, giving a little wave to Clint who was driving.

The two of you sat in the back in silence for the entire journey, you watched the city flying past you from the window and it felt strange that the outside world was just continuing around you like normal while yours had almost collapsed.

The car rolled to a stop in front of your building, and you turned to Bucky. He seemed to be studying you carefully, concern drawn across his features. Even after all this time and distance, the beauty of his face still took your breath away at times.

“Thank-you…for the ride. For dinner. For showing up…all of it,” you said softly.

He nodded stoically, “always. Look…no matter what happens between us, I’ll always show up for you if you need me. Any time, any place. And Lou is going to be just fine, alright?”

Almost instinctively you found your hand sliding across the leather of the seat towards him. He looked down as your hand moved to find his. You clasped your fingers around his metal digits, the cool sensation against your skin was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. They in turn wrapped around yours and the two of you sat holding hands for a short while. You didn’t speak or look at each other, just both existing in the moment and concentrating on the feeling of your hands entwined. You paused, wanting to say more – but unable to quite find the words.

Eventually you couldn’t bear the strange tension in the air. You gently withdrew your hand and cleared your throat as you shuffled across the seat towards the door.

“Well, thanks again. And for the ride, too”.

“Anytime. Nice building…” he peered out of the window at your apartment block.

“Ah yeah, thanks,” you said proudly.

“You doing okay, living there?” he asked quizzically in his Brooklyn-lilt, his brows furrowed.

“Mm…I mean, it’s not as fancy as your place,” you chuckled, “it’s kinda cramped and small, but it’s cosy and warm. And it’s mine,” you told him with fondness.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “My place was yours too, you know”.

You chewed on your lip, you hadn’t intended it as a slight against him. “I-I know Buck…but…you know what I meant”.

He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah…that’s good. I’m pleased for you, really”. His nose crinkled as he looked at you fondly. It was a little mannerism of his that you’d missed.

You shared a small smile before getting out of the car and heading inside. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look back at the car, a storm of emotions fighting to escape you. Your fatigue mixed with your anxieties about Lou, confusion about this sudden shift with Bucky now swelling. You could tell from the quiet behind you that the car hadn’t pulled away yet, no doubt waiting until you were safely off the street. You put your key in the door and quickly moved inside.

That was last week. You hadn’t spoken to him since, although you’d wondered if you should reach out. You thought he might’ve been in touch – a text, a call, but nothing. It was nice, he was leaving the ball in your court and not crowding you, respecting the boundaries you’d established. But part of you couldn’t shake the small sense of disappointment that lingered, too.

The fact was you couldn’t deny that something was stirring. Bucky, who you’d long written off and blacklisted for his betrayal, had started to be on your mind more and more. He had crept back into your brain.

You didn’t believe the old adage that time healed all wounds, but it had certainly helped. The space you’d had from him a year on from the incident had allowed you to find yourself again, the parts that you hadn’t realised you’d lost after diving headfirst into your relationship with Bucky. You still felt immense pain when you thought about what happened…but you also thought about how he had been true to his word. He hadn’t tried to force you back, not aggressively pursuing you or trying to talk you round. His weekly mornings at the diner had never felt pointed or manipulative. You believed that he was just happy to have you in his life, like he’d said. You’d since found your own place, started therapy and looked at your own issues, thrown yourself into work. Remembered who you were before you were ‘mob boss girlfriend’. You knew that what had happened with Bucky was not your fault, it wasn’t your job to reflect and change accordingly – that was all his. But still, having the space and time to work on yourself…it was refreshing. One small silver lining on this ugly, black cloud.

You’d also been on a few dates over the last few months. Nothing to write home about. A few nice guys, a few less than nice guys. Nothing had truly sparked for you; nobody had piqued your interest enough to want to really explore more than a few dinners or coffees. Maybe it was because of how things ended with Bucky, or you just hadn’t met someone right for you, or maybe you were just off dating altogether…But it wasn’t something you felt real enthusiasm for at this point. But that was okay. It had been fun to dip your toe back in the dating pool, and you weren’t averse to trying again when the moment was right, or you met the right person.

Unless of course, it was because someone else was on your mind.

Your slow burn friendship with Bucky had crept on you, taken you by surprise. The man who had once broken your heart now had a new place in your life. It was strange, but in some ways, you knew him better than you had when you were together. Despite your previous connection - your conversations had opened territory up you’d never covered together before, previously too caught up in passion and heat to dive as deeply as you had now.

And most importantly, he had shown up for you that night at the hospital, been there for you without you needing to ask. He had brought you dinner and stayed by your side without a word, because he knew you needed not to be alone – needed support. You were touched by his care for you, his willingness to clear his schedule for you at the drop of a hat. It meant a lot. It meant everything. He had intuited how you felt and acted immediately. He was there.

You didn’t know what it meant, if anything. Something had changed, the safe barrier of diner breakfast chats had been crossed. Part of you was panicking – no! Don’t let him get close, not again! Remember what he did! But another part of you had missed him deeply, longed to hold him again and wake up to him each morning. Your thoughts were a spiralling mass of contradictions and conflict, nothing made sense.

You weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what happened.

But could you try?

Roscoe snapped you out of your thoughts as he passed you the latest batch mail on his way by. You thanked him, flicking through the junk mail until your attention was caught by the hospital logo on one of the envelopes. You winced, tentatively ripping open the paper as you braced yourself for the latest bill.

You cursed under your breath as you unveiled the total figure, a stupid amount of money. You spiralled as it sank in, wondering if Lou would have to sell the diner in order to settle his debt. You knew he didn’t have anywhere near enough in his savings. You thought about all the jobs that could be at stake, including yours, and your heart ached most of all knowing that the restaurant was Lou’s baby. It would break him to give it up.

Maybe you could call them, sort out a payment plan…something?

You tried to calm yourself down, thinking about what your therapist would say about your immediate jump to the worst-case scenario. Relax. You can fix this. Remember your mindfulness exercises. Life would find a way.

The opening of the front door pulled you from your catastrophising. You glanced over, making eye contact with a rather damp Bucky as he entered the diner. He sighed, shaking the rain from his coat as he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“A lovely morning…” he muttered, deadpan.

You smiled, stuffing the hospital bill into your apron pocket and going to grab the coffee jug, “Morning, Buck. Get a little wet?”

“A little,” he gruffed, slotting himself into his usual booth.

You chuckled as you filled up his mug.

“How’s Lou?” he asked, shaking the rain from his hair.

“He’s doing better, thanks for asking. They’ve got a whole treatment plan worked out for him - so that’s positive”.

“Good. Glad to hear. You over here running the show while he’s out?”

“Something like that,” you smiled, then shuffled on your feet as you realised you needed to talk to him. “Bucky, I-”

A loud clatter and exclamation from the kitchen cut you off, causing you both to look over at the disturbance. You sighed with exasperation.

“Ah. Duty calls…I’ll put your order in while I’m in there”.

You rushed off to sort out whatever mess waited for you in the kitchen as Bucky smiled playfully at your annoyance.

He noticed something had fallen out of your apron as you dashed off. A piece of paper. He leaned over to pick it off the floor for you in case you needed it. Before he realised it was private and had a chance to look away, his eyes were immediately drawn to the monstrous sum at the bottom of the page. Ah. He grimaced as he quickly put two and two together, folding the paper neatly and leaving it on the table. He took a sip of his coffee.

You appeared a little while later with his order, sighing heavily as you placed the plate in front of him.

“Sorry about that…Roscoe and Ron were fighting about if the bacon was too crispy, and some trays got caught up in the carnage. Never a dull moment around here…”

You suddenly noticed the paper on the table, your words trailing off as your eyes locked onto it. You snatched it away quickly, shoving it into your apron.

“That’s not…that’s-” you floundered, embarrassed for him to have seen it.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop. You dropped it, so I picked it up and then realised what it was,” he explained softly.

“It’s fine. I’m dealing with it,” you shrugged, desperate to appear nonchalant.

“Sit down, doll”, he said sternly.

You scoffed, “Bucky…I’m busy running a restaurant here…”

He paused, looked up and bellowed across the diner, “Roscoe! Ron! Handle things while your boss takes a break!”

You rolled your eyes, turning to see Roscoe and Ron nodding furiously as they scattered and suddenly started working harder than you’d ever seen them. They had always been afraid of Bucky. You stifled a laugh.

“Problem solved, now sit,” he gestured.

You reluctantly sat down opposite him, “Bucky…”

“We’re gonna talk”.

“I don’t need-”

“No. Let’s do this”, he said sternly.

You folded your arms in front of you, fully aware that you resembled a petulant teenager but not caring enough to stop.

Bucky cleared his throat, taking a sip of his coffee before picking up the letter. “Now, I don’t want to overstep…but I can take care of this you know…”

You shook your head. “No. Thanks for the offer, but no,” you told him firmly.

“Alright. That’s fine. So, Lou has enough to cover it?” he asked, “all of it?”

You nodded a bit too quickly, “mmhmm”.

Bucky caught it immediately, your lie. You noticed the quirk of his brow and the subtle rubbing of his lips together. Damn him.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he sipped his coffee again and ate a few forkfuls of his meal, then wiped his mouth with a napkin and tilted his head quizzically. “Guess it’s all wrapped up, then”.

You nodded again in agreement, but knew he wasn’t done.

He took his time, casually taking a few more bites of his breakfast and sipping his coffee. You knew his relaxed demeanour was a careful façade…you had somehow found yourself at the centre of a famed Bucky Barnes interrogation.

You tried to appear relaxed, as if you had nothing more to add.

“Because…” he started.

Ugh.

“…because, if he didn’t have enough. That would be a problem, wouldn’t it?”

“Mmm. It would. But it’s not…so…”

“Right”, he cut you off. “But if he didn’t – great eggs today by the way – if he didn’t, that would be putting this place at risk, right? All the staff here and their jobs. Your job?”

“Right,” you replied, your voice a little strained.

“And of course Lou himself…he loves this place. It’s his baby. I’m sure he’d be devastated if he had to give it up to pay his medical bills. Especially as the last thing he needs right now is more stress and financial worries on top of his ill health”. He paused again to eat, not even looking up.

You nodded; your eyes now slightly cloudy now.

“Yep…” you said meekly.

He looked up at you, his eyes intensely locked onto yours, gesturing towards you with the fork. He was in full swing now. The diner suddenly felt much hotter, you could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on your forehead and the back of your neck.

“And I hope it would be known, if that was the case of course, that my offer would have no strings attached. Because I could imagine someone might decline it out of pride, or concern that it would have conditions and that person would then be in some sort of debt to me…either financially or emotionally. And if that was the case, I’d want to reassure them that it would only be a friend looking out for a friend, helping because I want to, and I can, and God knows I should do something nice once in a while to even out my moral scales…”

The barrier broke and your tears finally escaped, the stress about Lou and this intimidating bill, and your confusion about how you felt for Bucky, all finally coming to the surface. You cupped your face in your hands as you quietly sobbed.

“I’m sorry, I just…I…”

Bucky moved like lightning, whipping around to your side of the booth as he swung in next to you.

“Hey…hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to be clear what my offer entailed; but I understand why you’d be reluctant to accept my help”.

He pulled a few napkins from the dispenser and tenderly wiped away your tears.

“It wouldn’t be a loan, doll, and you wouldn’t need to make nice with me to say thanks. You could call me an asshole and dump these eggs on my head, and I’d still pay in full with a smile. There’s no expectation here, no contract – legal or implied”.

You sniffed, looking up at him blearily, “you’d really do all that for me…but…why?”

He paused, then very delicately used his thumb to collect the tears forming at the side of your eye.

“You know why,” he said plainly.

Your heart panged, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, clutching at one of the now-soggy napkins he’d given you. You sniffed again as you regained your composure, suddenly feeling exposed in front of him. The two of you stared at one another for a few moments and you were so desperate to tell him everything, but you couldn’t form the words. You hoped he would elaborate and fill in that gap for you, but he didn’t.

He quietly got up, putting on his coat and placing some bills down on the table to cover his check. He leaned over and kissed you on the crown of your head, then used a finger to tilt your chin up to look at him.

“You don’t have to decide anything now,” he told you as he looked into your eyes, “Think it over. I’ll be back here next week like always”.

He smiled at you, then disappeared out into the street. You heard the roaring of the rain outside as the diner door opened, the little bell above the frame chiming to announce his departure.

You missed him already.

You looked down at the hospital bill in your hands, the total at the bottom practically screaming from the page.

He’d hurt you so badly, you weren’t sure if you could ever fully forgive him for that fateful night. You understood it had been his insecurities, you understood he had lashed out after he thought his worst fears were realised – but that had only even explained his actions, not justified them.

Although…he’d always been there over the last year. Slow and steady, but he’d taken the time to rebuild his relationship with you platonically. He’d let you manage the pace, never tried to force anything more than you were willing to give him.

…and he’d been there for you.

He continued to be there for you.

It wasn’t about the money. He wasn’t trying to pay you off to win favour. He was just trying to be there for you, and this was something he had the power and resources to help you with.

He was your friend.

He loved you. He’d continued to love you…

“Are you back off break, boss?” Roscoe rudely interrupted your train of thought, “Ron said that the fryer-”

You were pulling off your apron before your brain could even catch up with your body.

“Nope,” you shot back, firing out of the booth at full speed as you tossed the apron at him on your way out, “a little longer…”

You left Roscoe gawping in your wake as you sailed through the front door. You yelped in shock as you stepped out into the downpour, you’d forgotten about the mini storm happening beyond the restaurant doors. It was so dark outside it looked more like early evening than the morning hours. You looked down at your immediately soaked uniform, your work shoes flooding as you traipsed through the puddles…

Focus!

You surveyed the street, your eyes catching a brief glimpse of the SUV turning the corner. The instantly recognisable JBB107 plates drawing your focus in the split second before they vanished.

And so you ran.

You sprinted after the SUV waving your arms, shouting for it to stop. A concerned elderly lady asked if you were okay but you sailed on by. You must’ve looked utterly insane.

You rounded the corner and rushed up behind the SUV as it slowed. The back door flew open, and Bucky suddenly appeared out of it, a look of horror on his face as the vehicle pulled over.

“Doll! Jesus Christ, what the- are you okay??” he shouted to you as you approached.

You didn’t answer, just flung yourself inside the car as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Bucky slid across the seat to give you room. The divider screen was up so you couldn’t see the driver. One less person to witness your mortifying display, at least.

“Fuck…you must be freezing,” he muttered as he pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders and leaning over to close the car door behind you.

You were, your teeth chattered. Your hair was wet and matted, your uniform soaked through.

“Bucky…” you said hoarsely as you dripped all over his plush car interior.

“What is it, doll?” he asked, his eyes wide and alarmed, “what’s going on??”

You couldn’t find the words so you acted purely on instinct, you cupped his face and kissed him. Kissed him hard. Kissed him longingly. He caught up quickly and kissed you back, his fingers tangled in your soaking hair. It was desperate, messy. Your teeth clashed and your cheeks bumped. It had been so long that you’d lost each other’s rhythm with this. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. You couldn’t have waited any longer.

He pulled away, gawping at you incredulously as he held your face in his hands.

“Doll…does this mean?”

“Let’s go slow,” you whispered, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. The effort you’ve put into rebuilding us from the ground up…for being my friend…for never pushing me…for Lou…but I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into this headfirst…whatever this is…”

He nodded, “of course, anything you want”.

“I’m not sure if I can…fully forgive. But I want to try,” you told him softly as you pressed your forehead to his.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as he sighed. A sigh of long held tension, of relief.

“Thank-you for giving me a chance…I didn’t think you ever would again,” he admitted.

“Yeah…well neither did I,” you laughed,

“What changed your mind?”

“Well…. how you showed up for me with Lou has made me rethink a lot of things. Plus…the money”.

He laughed, “the money? Really? This whole time I just needed to pay you off?”

“No…”, You rolled your eyes, “it was more that you offered, but you didn’t force anything, and you made it clear it was no strings attached. It’s like…you want to help me, but you trust me to make my own decisions and don’t just try and fix it all for me, like you used to. I just…it made me realise how much I’ve missed you. But it’s gotta be different this time…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…like…I want to stay in my apartment. And I want to keep my job,” you said firmly.

He nodded, “yeah. Of course”.

“Maybe I’d move back in with you one day…but I want my space”.

“Okay. You got it,”.

You smiled, “yeah?”

He smiled back at you, the smile that still made you weak at the knees. “Doll? If it means you’re by my side…Of course ‘yeah’. Anything you want. And I have some conditions too…”

“What?” you frowned. “This isn’t exactly a two-way negotiation, Buck…”

“Just…listen. They’re conditions for me. I promise I’m going to trust you entirely, and to communicate you with you properly – not let my emotions get the best of me. I’m a different man to who I was the last time we were together. I know how lucky I am to get this second chance with you. I’m not fucking it up. I'm gonna be...better”.

He spoke earnestly with such conviction that it was almost aggressive. You nodded gently, squeezing his hand. You believed him.

“Alright…well, let’s give it a shot, shall we?”

He grinned, “I can’t believe you’re here…”

“Me neither. But…I’m sorry I’m dripping rainwater all over your car”.

He shrugged. “Fuck the car”.

And then he kissed you again.

Maybe you did believe in happy endings.

THE END

There we have it! I hope you liked where it went. I know some of you didn't think she should ever forgive him and I understand, and I'm sorry if you're disappointed! But in my eyes he had shown her he was willing to change...and she wasn't trying to rush back into anything heavy. Thank you for reading!

If you liked this story, please consider supporting me with my Ko-Fi link 💐

#mob!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #starting over fic #sebastian stan

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coffeeman777 · 4 months ago

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This is for all of my follwers/mutuals who are Christians:

I want to preface this by saying that what I'm about to share with you is only to ask you for prayer. I don't want favors, and I'm not looking for a handout. We need God to open a door for us, and so I beg you, please pray for us.

We moved to Florida coming on three years ago. We came here primarily because we believed God was leading us here. In various ways, we believed God confirmed His will for us, and so I left a great job and we sold a great house to move here. We have been opposed in every way imaginable since.

Days after moving down, Lisa and I were in a terrible car accident that we only walked away from by God's grace. We were rear-ended by an Edible Arrangements delivery truck on the highway, and Lisa sustained significant injuries that are still causing us major problems. The franchise owner was operating their delivery vehicle without insurance, and I've learned since that they shut down their Edible Arrangements franchise and took off, leaving us holding the bag.

I've been in armed security since I got out of the Marines, and in New Hampshire, that was enough to take care of myself and my family. But it isn't in Florida. The pay for most armed security gigs here is super low, and I haven't been able to find work comparable to what I had in New Hampshire. So I tried to change courses.

I earned my personal trainer certification through the National Academy of Sports Medicine, but couldn't make it as a trainer. I made the attempt to go back to college and get a degree and certification as a paramedic, but after months of jumping through hoops, that fell through. I went back to New Hampshire by myself and spent six months away from my family to try to earn enough money working both my old job and a second job, but that plan didn't work because hours were limited with both gigs, and each job wanted me to work overlapping hours; I couldn't make the schedules line up.

My incredibly generous parents-in-law offered to pay our bills so that I could come back to Florida and try a new plan. I went to a CDL training course to get into trucking. After the very long and very expensive process, I finally got my CDL-A. While I was working on that, a random disagreement between my health insurance company and the medical supplier that issued me my cpap (I have sleep apnea) resulted in the supplier demanding that I give them the machine back. It took from middle February to early June for me to get another cpap. The end result is that, as of today, I have just under two months of cpap usage data. I discovered only after getting my CDL that no trucking company will hire me with less than 90 days of cpap usage data.

I've been pre-hired and subsequently turned away from three different trucking companies since I got my CDL over the cpap nonsense (one of which told me that what I had for cpap usage was fine, only to tell me on the first day of orientation that it actually wasn't fine, and they had to let me go). It's going to be another month before I can get started with any trucking company, and I'm concerned that I'll have to go to refresher training, which will only increase the months of time I'll have to spend as a trainee with whatever company hires me, which means it will be a long time before I make enough money to survive.

My in-laws can't continue paying our bills, and although I've had a half dozen low paying jobs in this time just to be bringing in something, now I'm struggling to get anything. I've applied to more jobs than I can remember, and I can't get any traction. Not even Domino's will call me back. Our backs are up against a wall.

My first payment for the money I borrowed to pay for CDL school was due almost a month ago, and I haven't been able to pay it (I had to get financing because my GI Bill expired and the VA ignored my request for an extension). Rent is almost 2k a month. We can't afford groceries (we've been living off of food pantries).

I don't know what to do. I've been crying out to God for an open door, but so far nothing has happened. My in-laws are just about tapped out, and in my mind, the only thing worse than wrecking my own family financially is dragging them down with me.

Please pray for us. Please pray for God to give us an open door, or some understanding of what to do next. I know God didn't bring us here to let us die. God is good, and God keeps His promises. God is perfect, and righteous, and just in all His ways. God has promised that He will turn about all things for the good of them that love Him. I know God has not abandoned us, and that when the time is right, God will make a way.

I say again, I am not looking for favors or begging for money. I know all of us are really going through it right now. All I want from you is prayer. Please pray intensely for us.

Thanks, I love you all.

#prayer request

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sheepispink · 2 months ago

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The Perfect Pair

Masterlist AO3

WC: 7.6k Tags: fluff, marriage of convenience, leon kennedy/ reader

Summary: Leon can barely hold himself upright most days and you've finally decided to ditch the DSO life in pursuit of happiness. However, that'd mean leaving all those beautiful tax benefits and medical insurance behind. Turns out Leon and Chris are pretty persuasive, landing you as Leon's 'wife' but you cant help but start to feel something more, unaware that Leon's already set his eyes on you for life.

It’d been a long day at work, the usual really— Chris had roped him into dealing with another bioweapon appearance, thus leading him to take a helicopter to some trashy place, locating the bioweapon, and promptly knocking its freaky nature out of action. Now he lugged his weary feet home to the apartment you shared, his stomach craving a taste of something only your skilled hands would prepare for him. After a short elevator trip that thankfully alleviated the ache of his feet for a moment, he reached the front door and, with a quick fumble with the keys he had inserted the right one inside, opening the door.

“I’m home.” He calls out, his raspy voice filling the silent yet serene space before him. He somehow grew used to this; the sight of two sets of keys on the hook, the vast difference in style as he places his shoes on the rack, and the two coats on the bannister, one far smaller than the other. “Smells good..” He mumbles beneath his breath, making his way towards the kitchen where you stand, back facing him as you work your hands through a ball of minced meat.

“Welcome home.” You turn to meet his hungry gaze with your typical warm smile, heart warming at the exhausted look on his face and even more so that he’d soon find relief in the food you had made.

“You’re lucky, we had just enough mince meat in the freezer for your favourite beef burgers.” That was a lie. You had woken up early this morning and decided he had looked far too tired recently, and it’d been far too long since he’d had his favourite meal. So, as any good wife does, you wanted to make him feel better and took to the nearest supermarket, picking up all the ingredients you needed and some for a tasty dessert too. He always denied that he enjoyed sweet treats, but he would always be the first to finish them, whether it was a sweet chocolate mousse or a tasty doughnut you picked up on the way home.

He chuckles, his hand disappearing into his work jacket as he slips off the leather and lays it on the back of a wooden chair. It then migrates to his collar, tugging on it to alleviate the heat through his body, which is proven by the thin layer of sweat covering his limbs.

“Oh? Thanks, I was sure you finished it last week when you gave Kitty a gourmet meal for once.”

This home wouldn’t be complete without its resident cat, a Siamese fur ball that Leon graciously named ‘Kitty’ though he has no doubt referred to it with a million different names anyway.

“I guess I must've missed a bit. I really treated her for nothing.” While he was smirking, your mind was far from the lightheartedness of this conversation, currently panicking over his words. He had seriously caught you out there; of course you finished the mince, last week but was he actually accusing you of lying or worse—did he know? As you let out an awkward chuckle, he speaks up again, undoing his belt with one hand as his other grabs a glass from the shelf to fill with water. “I’m not complaining though; they really are my favourites for a reason.” He drinks down the glass of water in one swig, letting out a satisfied breath before rolling his shoulders back. “I’m gonna take a quick shower—I don't want to drown your nose with my sweat.” He chuckles again, finally leaving you alone in the kitchen again as he takes his path up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

To say your relationship with him was complicated was a massive understatement; it was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, feelings that felt illicit, and signals that were impossible to decipher. Well, for you it felt like this—you’re not so sure about him. In fact, for someone who sleeps beside him nearly everyday, cooks him meals, eats dinner with him, and even drops off his lunch, you barely knew anything about the man.

This all began when you decided to quit the DSO, finally having enough money to move to a more peaceful job with flexible hours and still end up supporting yourself. You had only worked in communications at the DSO, but that was still a pain in itself. Before you left, they had an informal work dinner. A bunch of agents and other workers came along to a diner for some food before heading to mess around at a karaoke place before the weekend hit. With so many people around, it grew far too hot too quickly, and you soon wandered the halls seeking a breath of fresh air before you heard your name called by an agent. The voice belonged to Chris Redfield–your superior—who was beckoning you to come over, cigarette in hand, to where he stood with Leon right beside him. They were both your superiors in the work field but were perceived as far more important due to the missions they accomplished and lives they saved.

“Yes..?”

You were more confused than scared or anything of the like—why did they even want to talk to you? It’s not like you often saw them. Even so, you walked over to them, trying to reduce the awkwardness when you slipped your hands into the pockets of your jacket, tilting your head slightly.

“You’re gonna leave soon, right?” Leon asks, taking a swig of the golden whisky in his glass whilst Chris blows another puff of smoke off to the side.

“Yeah, I wanted to move onto a different job, a quieter one that isn't so taxing.” You shrug, having only thought out a bit of it so far.

Chris and Leon shared a glance at each other before Leon spoke once more, rolling back his shoulders a little. “You see, I have a bit of a predicament, and Chris thought you could help.”

Before you know it, he’s explaining how busy his work is and that he barely gets home in time for a sip of water before he knocks out, and you’re not really sure how this is your problem until Chris butts in.

“So basically, he needs a wife. You, on the other hand, won't have any of the perks of the DSO since you’re leaving, which includes medical insurance, tax benefits..” He trailed off as you started to ponder it, you really would lose a lot of the things you had grown to exist around. It would be very difficult to manage, and you can't say you’d miss a lot of those perks greatly. The two men give each other a glance as you speak up, nodding along. “You’re right, I will miss out a lot, but I really don't want to stay here longer..” Before Leon can even try and slide it in, Chris has already blurted it out.

“Well, you won't lose anything if you marry him.”

So, after a bunch of awkward talks and surviving interrogations from your coworkers, you ended up with a small wedding, which was mainly done to please your own parents rather than yourselves. Now you’re here, almost a year into this non formal contractual marriage, and your feelings are muddled. Very muddled. It’s hard to not catch feelings when you’re somewhat of a hopeless romantic yourself, or maybe the teenage girl mentality came back full force now you have a lot more free time. You owed him a fair amount to be fair—he didn’t realise how stress-free your life was these days. Wake up, eat a healthy breakfast, maybe watch some television too, head down to the small little bakery you own and teach the part time teenager there before wrapping up at four o'clock and heading home again. Your skin had cleared up, you were actually able to sleep in on the weekends and actually do whatever you want— pick up new hobbies, eat proper meals, and read books to your heart's content.

What you’ve concluded is that your life has drastically improved and you are more relaxed than you’ve ever been. The problem with that is that with the new addition of all this free time and air to breathe in, you’re able to actually think about the man you’ve married. In simpler terms that you tried to deny for a year now, you’ve caught feelings—a lot of feelings for him. That’s why you’re currently stuck in a conundrum; you’re technically allowed to pursue said feelings, as you’re married and no longer ‘colleagues’ needing to act professionally, but does he want the same?

The pan starts to sizzle, snapping you out of your daydreaming as you place the flattened patty into the oil, lightly frying each side. Being his wife meant looking after him as much as he did to you, so cooking was often your chore to handle. Even though you were more than happy to do most of the chores, he’d still help with the dishes after dinner and often cooked when he could—when he was exhausted from another mission. Plus, he did his own laundry. He would’ve done yours too, though after the first time he tried, your cheeks had flushed immediately when he handed you a pile of your freshly washed underwear and t-shirts, and you quickly told him you’d do your own.

The staircase groans as he steps down the stairs, his movements a lot slower now that he had let the tension ease from his muscles in the shower. So far, you’ve managed to cook four patties, which was more than enough to satisfy his stomach and yours. But you had an extra two for his lunch tomorrow and because he tended to have a third burger “just because it’d be a shame to let it go to waste.That’s when you hear him curse softly under his breath, turning back to glance at him in confusion. “What’s wrong?” His hair is damp, still dripping with water onto the white tee he wears. It’s loose and the one you bought him last month when you went on a shopping spree. You try to ignore the way your eyes naturally drift towards his chest; a small sliver of his pale skin peeks out where his hand disappears under his shirt, rubbing his abdomen in a strange way. “Did you get hurt?” You continue, turning down the heat on the hob so you can turn to face him better.

“Oh? This?”

He lifts the shirt a little, revealing the bruise on his right side of his stomach, and also gives you a perfect view of his toned abs. Damn. “It’s not as bad as it looks..” He mumbles, but his eyebrows are still knitted in a frowning gesture. “I’m annoyed because I missed an opportunity..”

That makes you blink, wondering what he could’ve missed in the time he went for his shower and came back here. Did he get a phone call? Or perhaps something happened this week you hadn't picked up on?

“An opportunity?”

“Yeah. I completely missed the chance to ask you, ‘What's cookin, Good Lookin?’. Damnit..”

Did the corniest line to ever exist really just make your chest tighten for a second?

You can’t deny the fact that the line itself had made your lips part as you stood there dumbfounded. Leon had a history with corny one-liners; in fact, whenever his colleagues happened to see you, they’d always mention whatever stupid thing he said during a mission. He’d say it to you occasionally too, usually random puns that he’d quietly snicker about, but he’d never quite openly flirt with you like that. Was it supposed to be a joke? Was it real? You couldn't tell, and so you quickly turned back around before your patties ended up burnt.

“O-of course only you would worry more about that than your own injuries.” His snickering is obvious behind you as you place the cooked patties onto a small plate. “Stop pestering me and go sit down at the table.” You feign annoyance, grumbling as you hide the furious flush of pink upon your cheeks. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t intend to give up that easily, walking up behind you and peering over your shoulder with his hands planted on the counter on either side of your waist.

“That was a good one, c’mon.” He argues, the most exaggerated pout on his face quickly disappearing when he watches the burgers sizzle in the pan. He loves your food so damn much.

“That was not a good one, shoo.”

Thankfully, he ends up leaving you alone in favour of Kitty, who had just woken up from her nap— eager to play with him even if it just means chasing after a wrapper he had thrown across the room. You place down two plates at the table, as per usual, along with a plate full of salad, a bowl of fresh chips you fried, and the small plate of patties— six to be exact. Then, you place down the two fancy glasses you bought last week and grab your usual favourite canned drink while grabbing a Coke Zero for him. Finally, you place Kitty’s dinner on the floor which she runs over for, immediately gobbling up the food. “She’s just like you.” You giggle, watching as she hungrily wolfs down the food, thus making him groan in return. “I do not eat like that.”

Dinner is the same. You’ll ask about his day in which he usually retorts in grunts and moans about the government, incompetent workers, and that woman.. Ada. Just the mention of her name used to make him go quiet back when you worked at the DSO, and even in the first few months of your “marriage”, he would shrug off the subject quickly. Now he talks about it here and there, mentioning how she suddenly appears and always seems to know his location. For some reason, it puts a sick feeling in your stomach, like someone is dragging their nails across the flesh of your insides.

“Ada.. was there. Ever since I saved the president’s daughter, it’s like she’s followed me everywhere. She helps me.. but then she claims to not care..?”

His words stopped registering in your mind after a while as your teeth grit against each other and you absentmindedly dipped your chip into ketchup over and over again. You can’t believe he could be so naive. She had played him once in Raccoon City, faking her identity and using him to her advantage. The same played out in Spain even if she ‘saved’ him. You didn't care about her damn motives; she worked for the enemy, and it irked you—she just used whatever she could to gain her benefit, and it seemed like no one could stop her.

“Earth to my beautiful wife, hello?” He waved his hand in front of your furrowed eyebrows and the obvious scowl upon your face. “You look like you just ate something you find disgusting. I thought you liked this too.”

You immediately realise you had zoned out, your face shifting to something sheepish before you finally stick the ketchup-soaked chip into your mouth. You didn't even get a chance to process what he just called you.

“No, it’s not the food; I was just thinking. Sorry, it’s nothing.”

That only serves to make him all the more curious, though he doesn't push it, instead continuing his story. “Where was I? Oh, right, then Ada shot—” He cuts himself off as your eyes immediately narrow, and you lower your head, picking with your food again subconsciously. It doesn’t take much to piece the clues together, his lips twitching upwards as a smile threatens to spread. Though he wants to test his suspicions one more time.

“Wanna hear something crazy? Ada tried to kiss me again.”

“What?!” You immediately sit up straight, the scowl returning just as fast and teeth grit, but it quickly softens when you see the smirk on his face.

“I knew it. You hate her, don’t you?” Leon always saw right through you, thankfully not with your growing feelings yet, and it made it all the harder to keep his marriage… Well, just as a contract.

“Fine, maybe I don’t like her. So what? She’s not exactly the most moral person.” You say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly as you take a bite out of your burger and chew it down. “She helps Umbrella, can you really blame me?” That only makes his lips twitch again, and he leans his elbows on the table, eyes trained on every feature of your face.

“Are you jealous of her?” That almost makes you choke on the burger, and you have to take a large gulp of your drink to swallow down the rest of the food, your face immediately pinkening. It can’t be possible—there’s no way you’re jealous of that cunning, manipulative, hot, extremely hot woman. How did she even look that good?

“Ha— she should be jealous of me.” You scoff boldly, finishing the last of your burger soon after.

“Oh, and why’s that? Because you’re the one wedded to me?

A moment earlier, your heart would’ve described his face as a perfectly carved sculpture, the ones that people bid thousands to place in their homes because not showing off such a perfect creation would be a crime. Right now, he wore a sly grin with his eyebrows raised as he eyed you suggestively.

And that look was very punchable.

“Because I'm living the dream. I’ve got a bakery, a ton of free time, and I guess you’re there too, I suppose.”

With a roll of your eyes, you dismiss his words quickly, even though the faintest blush on your cheeks betrays your true thoughts. What if you said yes? What happens then?

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t give me that satisfaction.” He feigns a pout before his grin returns as he takes a massive bite into his second burger of the night. Of course, he just has to make an exaggerated moan, one elbow leaning on the table as the other covers his face dramatically.

“This is heavenly, you know? One day I swear I'll start dreaming about these burgers.”

There he goes again, babbling on about Lord knows what and his corny lines again. You can't help but flash a small cheeky smile, winking as you pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher.

“Another reason for her to be jealous of me.”

Once the dinner has been packed away by his speedy hands, he’s returned to make the couch his home again, stretching his whole body against the length of it like a cat would. You’re placing the dishes into your dishwasher before inserting a tablet and putting it on for three hours. As you walk over to wipe down the table, you notice his eyes have fluttered close as he groans and gets comfortable on the cushions. You can't say you didn't feel a tinge of affection—well, much more than that, like a heap almost—every time he crashed out like this, completely exhausted from a mission. “Weekend tomorrow..” You remind him with a gentle hum, swiftly removing any stray stains off the table. “Don’t you want to have a good sleep, y'know, in bed?”

He lets out a muffled grumble in response, burying his face into the cushions before he reluctantly sits up, making you smile a little more—you’d scold him regularly about lying down after eating. “What movie d’ya wanna watch?” He says even if he would usually wander his way to the bedroom after you said that. It’s been at least a month since you had been together like this to watch a movie. A lot had changed in that month, specifically your growing feelings for him. Perhaps distance really does bring fondness, you think.

“I don’t mind; you like action, no?” You finish wiping down the dirt from dinner to glance over whatever he’s doing on the television, only to find him flicking through your favourite genre of movies. Shoving down the warmth on your cheeks is near impossible as you speed walk back to the kitchen. Were these signs? Were you reading too much into it? Your teeth graze against each other nervously as you look up to see him waiting expectantly on the couch for you to join him. What the hell is happening right now? He had always gone to bed immediately or scrolled through his phone for a while— so what’s with the sudden change?

Moments later you’re sitting beside him on the couch, knees tucked to your chest as he presses play on the movie he picked—the one you had mentioned you wanted to watch when it first got announced that it was in production. Despite your excitement, you could hardly concentrate on the movie when he was practically centimetres from you. He was leaning back against the cushions, one arm resting around the back of the couch where you sat and the other comfortably against the armrest. If you had just moved your head back slightly, you would brush against his arm. If you did that, would he wrap it around your shoulders? Just the thought makes you shudder a little, your chin moving forward to sit comfortably on your knees. It was like you were a teenage girl again, sitting in the movies with your crush while you wondered if he thought of you as a friend or something more. You couldn't even believe you were acting like this—hell the two of you were married legally, not to mention you were both grown adults! Who cares if he had just stretched out his arms, his shirt riding up, and you could see the scars on his stomach? Your breath hitching when he had shuffled up to you was completely unnecessary; the warmth radiating off of him was irrelevant, no matter if the characters were kissing on the screen right now. You practically jump when he pokes your shoulder with his hand, your head snapping to him instantly, and you can barely even form a noise when you see how close his face is to yours. His eyes had to be one of your favourite things about him, or was it the messy mop of dirty blond hair on his head? It could even be the sharpness of his jawline, the lines of wear beneath his eyes, how perfectly his nose seemed to be carved, or perhaps, crazily enough, the way his voice rang out in your ears in the mornings.

“Do we have any dessert? I’m craving something sweet.”

Every step back into the kitchen is like torture from how hot your cheeks are, the cold fridge air doing nothing to soothe the embarrassment as you grab the microwave puddings you had bought today. You can't believe you had been so flustered by the proximity that all that had escaped you was a strangled noise before you just hurriedly nodded and escaped to the kitchen. Those five seconds between the poke and his words felt like a millennia— an incredibly romantically tense millennia— where for those whole five seconds, you stupidly thought he’d kiss you right then and there. You fan yourself as if that’ll soothe the metaphoric rush of warmth in your face right now, incredibly embarrassed by your own thoughts and desires. When you sit back down again, you quickly hand him the hot pudding and sit further away from him this time. If you even felt that again, you felt like you’d simply explode altogether.

Unbeknownst to you, he was now wondering if you were annoyed that he had interrupted, and he frowned as he glanced down at the plate with just a singular spoon. Weren’t you going to eat too? Not to mention, you were all stiff and sitting further from him than before—now you’re really twisting the knife in his heart. First he had agitated you by teasing you about Ada, then he laid on the couch right after dinner like you always told him not to do, and now you even refused to eat dessert! Maybe he isn't putting enough effort into all of this as he originally thought. After all, you did a lot to run a bakery in town and still cook, clean, and look after his cat. So, he decides to take a shot and scoops up a particularly chocolatey part of the pudding, the part he always eats first, and holds the spoon up to your lips.

“I know you’re mad, but you can't deny this.” He plasters his typical boyish grin, nudging your lips with the metal of the spoon. But he’s caught off guard when you pull back in surprise, waving your hands around frantically in denial. “H-huh? I ate a lot of sweet things today already—”

“Shut up. Don’t you dare even say you’re on a diet either; you’re perfect already.”

He pushes the spoon against your lips which you accidentally part in surprise at his words, the warm chocolate filling your mouth immediately like an instant boost of serotonin.

“See, it's good, told ya.” He says smugly as you swallow down the tasty pudding and sauce. That’s only for a moment before he notices the smudge of chocolate around your lips from his struggle, casually wiping away the crumbs with his thumb before licking it.

He had just wiped the crumbs.

He wiped it from your lips.

He wiped it and then licked it off his hand.

He didn't even think twice.

“I-its not bad-” That was all you could mutter out before he committed the crime, and now you were left dumbstruck as you watched him casually lick his thumb and then take another spoon of the dessert—the same spoon you just ate from. He leans back against the couch again, about to shove another in your mouth once he gets comfortable enough, though he quickly realises that you still haven’t spoken since. “You can’t still be mad; I’ll shove another one in your mouth, you know—” At that, you know you’re sure to blurt out the truth, and you scramble up, about to make an excuse about needing a glass of water, before your wrist is caught in his hand, and you’re promptly pulled back against the couch again.

“Hm? Where are you going, pink cheeks?”

He says it teasingly, instantly making you flush all the more. You couldn’t understand how anyone could even be so casual about these things, not that you had little experience in the area, but seriously— he had literally just licked the chocolate on your face. That was an indirect kiss!

“Do you do this with all your friends?” The frown on your face is suddenly a little harsher, accusing, and suddenly there's a hint of betrayal. That only serves to confuse him more, you’ve been acting off for a while now, had he cheated in his sleep or something? “What? You’re not my friend, though? That's not comparable.”

He doesn't even see you as a friend? You can't help the way your heart drops in a way you’ve never felt before in your life; it almost hurts the way he can just so easily dismiss you after all the time you’ve spent together—contractual or not. “I- I see how it is..”

“See how what is? You’re not making much sense.” His eyes narrow as you suddenly turn your head away from him, arms crossing firmly on your chest, but what doesn’t escape him is the sudden daze in your eyes. Gently, his hand grabs your chin, squashing your cheeks as he forces you to face him, and his mind instantly clicks all the pieces together.

“.. (Name).” He says firmly, making you let out a small hum in acknowledgement, unaware of the way your eyes are suddenly a lot wetter than they had been before.

“What did you drink earlier?”

“What? All I drank was water, mostly.”

“What about when I told you about Ada, was that water?” Your eyebrows furrow as you hear him repeat her name again, immediately growing more frustrated. “What about her now?”

He lets out a heavy sigh, wrapping a firm arm around your shoulders before he forces you to settle against the couch against him. “You drank some of my drink, didn't you? You were way too annoyed to even notice the whiskey I mixed in.”

The thought immediately clicks into your head; everything is suddenly a lot clearer now, even though you still weren't quite sober yet. Plus, you were pretty much a lightweight when it came to his strong stuff. It perfectly explained the warmth spreading through your chest, the uncoordinated actions, and the way nothing seemed to follow the way your head wanted it to. “S-still, you said I’m not even your friend.” Gently, his thumb rubs the tears that have formed in your eyes and tucks you close into him with his arm snugly around you. Just in case you decide to face plant off the couch as you seemed to want to do before. “You’re not my friend; you’re my wife. Who else would I treat like that?”

“I’m not your real wife though.” You slowly look up at him, turning your head, so your glossy eyes can stare up into his, searching for the right answer— the truth.

“Those papers seem pretty real to me. The way I feel is also pretty real to me.”

He grins at you like he hadn't doubted that fact for a second, and he hadn't, not since you both had signed and received the certificate, one he sometimes sneaks a small fond peek at whilst you’re sleeping. Not that he’d tell you, at least not yet.

“But— I’m not your wife; that’s my title, but I don't act like that.”

“So? I still love you as anyone would with their wife; do you really think I wouldn't fall for you? You’re even more perfect than I imagined.”

You’re momentarily stunned into silence, not quite expecting that but still not believing it quickly, your tipsy mind making you say things that you never would before.

“That's because I do everything for you— not that I mind b-but, I just act like a good partner. You don't feel romantically for me.” You huff, your teeth gritting together as you pettily narrow your eyes at him. What you hadn't considered is that he’d tuck your hair behind your ears, carefully pull you into his lap, and take one of your hands in his. He fondles your hand beneath his, his thumb rubbing gently over the skin before he brings it up to rest on his cheek, smiling fondly at you.

“I’ve been busy, I know. It’s quite hard having an agent as a partner, no? I already regret all the love I've lacked to give you.” This time, you’re positive that your cheeks are reacting to him, breath hiccuping when he turns his face in your grasp. His lips press a kiss to the palm of your hand before intertwining that hand with his and holding it against his heart.

“You just had to go get tipsy, didn't you?” The warmth of his hand on yours as he squeezes it gently is like a drug, one that squeezes your heart at the same rhythm whilst his teasing voice dances in the air around the two of you.

“Not my fault you always have to have a glass with dinner..” You grumble, not happy with how fast he had proven you wrong even if he had just confessed to his deepest feelings. He finds it quite endearing how stubborn a little bit of alcohol can make you. ”Alright, we can blame me for this one. How about you finish this pudding with me, and we can get you settled in bed, how does that sound?”

Before you know it, he’s wiping chocolate stains from your lips again as you sniffle in his lap, mumbling some nonsense about your so-called lack of lovelife while the movie plays in the background. He enjoys all your little comments about the movie, even when you subconsciously glance back at him when the couple starring do something romantic. Taking you up to bed is easy enough considering you’re only just bordering tipsy at the moment and you hardly weigh anything compared to the things he usually deals with. Your head just lolls lazily as he helps you upstairs, your eyes slowly blinking up at him when he sits you on the edge of the bed. “What pajamas do you want, pretty girl? How about your favourite?” The water he helped you drink before had sobered you up a little so you’re starting to feel better already. However, your mind is still a little hazy so you just nod along, not minding if this is the first time he undresses you.

Making sure to be gentle with you, he strips you down to your underwear before helping you pull on your warm sweatshirt and plaid pants. His lips twitched upwards when your own fingers tried to beat him with dressing yourself, finding it adorable how you still insisted on doing everything yourself. He could just put you to bed, but after watching for countless nights how you slave away at your skincare routine and keeping your teeth brushed well— he’d feel awful if he broke that. Before you know it, you’re sitting on the sink as he gently holds your jaw, his other hand using the electric toothbrush to clean your teeth. You’re a little uncooperative, swerving your head away at first until you just settle into a sleepy calm and he handles you with no problems. In no time he has you back on his lap, sitting at your small vanity as he carefully attempts to remember the order of your night time routine. What even is this? He thinks as he picks up a suspicious looking serum, labelled as snail mucin and gives it an experimental sniff. He thought it’d smell worse to be fair.

“No, you have to put the toner first and then the serum.” You mumble at him, gently tugging at his hands with your fingers and before he knows it, you have a toner pad all up in his face, wiping over his nose and cheeks before you cover the rest of his face.

“Hey- i’m meant to be doing your skincare. I don't need this stuff.”

He almost feels a pang of hurt in his chest as you raise an eyebrow at him, as if accusing him of having bad skin. With a huff, he removes the toner pad from your hands and throws it in the bin before gently pulling at your cheeks. “I have great skin, thank you. Dont give me that look.”

You immediately frown and attempt to puff your cheeks, causing him to have mercy and let go before he grabs a new toner pad and repeats your actions to yourself.

When you come back to your senses, your head is smushed against a pillow whilst he changes by the closet behind you. Your thoughts don't feel as hazy as they used to be, and you’re even starting to contemplate everything that happened earlier. Did he really mean what he meant? Did he actually like you.. romantically? You physically cringe at your own thoughts and hide your face behind your hands, groaning just quiet enough that he doesn't quite hear it. Sleeping next to him had always felt odd to you, but you always slept at different times so it never really felt romantic in any sort of way. You liked to stay up late and he liked to get a decent rest before the next morning. It was only recently that you started glancing at his sleeping face beside you, admiring the peace in his expression when he lost himself to his dreams and no other worries. Otherwise, it just felt like a roommate, nothing more nothing less.

But now his trousers were falling to the floor behind you, and you were laying in bed not quite falling asleep nor attempting to stay up. Suddenly, he wanted to sleep with you, not only beside you. It suddenly felt all too real that you two were actually married, actually partners and actually slept beside each other each night. What next, were the notes you left in his lunch romantic too? In truth, you were slightly freaking out but that might’ve been the alcohol making things a hundred times worse than they should’ve been, especially since you had started crying unannounced earlier. That’ll play in the back of your mind forever but for now you’re focused on his soft footsteps as he approaches the bed, dressed in a much looser shirt and pants. He always slept like this but this time he looks down at you, one finger gently poking your cheek as he sits on the other end of the bed.

“I actually prefer to sleep with my shirt off. But we always fell asleep at different times so I never got to ask your permission.”

He hums quietly, the finger now gently rubbing along the soft curve of your cheek instead.

“You can.. I don't mind.” You say quietly, eyes trailing over his form as he settles himself against the headboard right beside you. Touching you.

“Are you sure your cheeks won't get too red?”

He teases, hand moving towards the top of your head to gently card his fingers through your locks. You push yourself up to a sitting position, letting out a soft yawn as you do so before you blink at him hazily again. This time, you press forward and place your hand on his abdomen, absentmindedly rubbing your finger there back and forth. “I want to see your injuries.”

Not even he can stop the way his face softens at that and he tucks you into his side again, his other hand pulling the shirt up and over his head to discard onto the carpet beneath the bed. This view is only for you: his paled skin, the fresh scars, the old scars, fading bruises and fresh bruises, stitches that fall out and others that are pulled tight but most of all, his body. All for your eyes only, only for you. Your hand runs gently over the outline of his newest bruise, a deep purple that covers the entire expanse of his hip. It’s blooming into something worse and you’re sure it’ll hurt more tomorrow, not that he’d ever complain about that anyway. “You always come home with injuries, and you just play them off. Don't they hurt? Don't you want me to care for you?”

You say quietly, voice even softer now that you’ve sobered up, and he just lets out a breath, his face turning to watch the way your brows furrow and your lips press together. To have someone fuss over him like this is something he never thought about much, but it didn't mean he hadn’t craved the idea before. Yours was genuine worry, and you always held that genuine care for him. But it felt different now, more natural, more intimate. Like he was the only one you would worry about like this— he loved that feeling.

“I don't ever want you to worry about a thing, even if I do like the way your eyebrows crease when you do.” He chuckles softly, leaning down to press his lips affectionately against your hair before sitting back up properly again. “I suppose if you really want to.. I couldn't deny I'd be flattered to have you care for me.” The curve of your lips is what makes him smile as well, finding it all too endearing how easily a grin can form on your face.

“You’re such a flirt..” You mutter, trying to play it off and wiggle out of his hold on you, only serving for him to raise an amusing brow at you. “I’m only making up for what I can’t do to a tipsy girl.”

“I’m not tipsy..” You argue, sitting up a little straighter which makes his arm gently rest on your lower back instead.

“Oh? Really now? Let me test you then, since I used to be a policeman.”

“Fine, give me what you’ve got.”

“Sing the alphabet backwards if you’re sober.”

You instantly splutter, shaking your head quickly.

“Hey! Not even a normal person can do that. I knew you didn't actually like me.” He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes up at your grumbling, squashing your cheeks to make you shush.

“Is it really a crime that I don't want you to forget our first kiss because of some stupid whiskey?”

“Your stupid whiskey.” He finally rolls his eyes at your retort, gently pushing you back into bed and pulling the covers up and over you. “Alright fine, my stupid whiskey. Now, be honest with me, are you sober?”

The little frown on your face has disappeared with the hope his question brings, and you nod quietly, wide eyes looking into his.

“Are you very sure?” You were definitely sober now, his voice immediately lowering to a rasp as his hands travel up to cup the soft curves of your cheeks as they begin to turn pink. Just like that, he’s the man you’ve fallen for all over again, soft strands of fair hair framing his chiselled face as if they’re perfectly placed to put you under his spell. His index tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gently rubbing the skin of your cheek with his calloused thumbs. His skin is so rough and yet you can't help but feel he is so soft at this moment; his eyes are like gentle waves, looking at you so fondly that you finally remember to reply.

“I-i'm sure.”

He doesn't hesitate, leaning in closer until his nose just touches the tip of yours, eyes locked onto every small movement you can even think about doing. “Can I?” The nod you give is the green light he’s always dreamed of; this day is all he has ever thought about since you joined his life. You let your eyes flutter closed, feel the warmth of his breath that tickles your skin as he draws closer and closer until his lips meet yours so gently. You have to physically stop yourself from giggling, probably the alcohol still trying to make a fool of you, but you just can't believe he’s the one wrapping you in his touch. Likewise, you wrap your arms around his neck, and he lets out a small gasp when you suddenly gain the strength to meet him upright, almost as if you’re threatening to pin him instead. Of course, he couldn't just let that slide easily. So, as anyone would, he pushes you back down into the mound of pillows, causing you to squeal as he leaves his touch all over your face, fleeting kisses painting your skin a rosy red. “You better not forget this in the morning.” He scoffs playfully as your eyes squeeze shut, giggles that spill out your mouth while he gives the affection he’s craved to gift to someone for years.

His job is hard, his life has been hard, and even this marriage initially felt the same. It wasn't so much the fact that he had essentially tied himself down to someone he barely knew, it was the realisation that he would never find his one person. That's why he did this after all, it seemed like it’d benefit the both of you and the day where he’d actually have a woman by his side slipped away with each mission. You, you were different though. You may have been an agent before, but outside of work you were the sweetest thing. Always subconsciously fussing over him, delaying sleep to prepare his lunch no matter how much he insisted you didn't need to, taking a personal duty to look after his cat, and still not being afraid to ask him when he seemed low or uncomfortable. You were everything he never had, even the annoying nagging of trying to get him to not lay on the couch after he ate or the fact that's his third whiskey yet.

Corny lines, the occasional flirty remark, dragging you to watch a movie— he wanted to do all of that before so you’d become actually his, actually the one he could say he loves and loves him back. But things got in the way, life got in the way, and he was starting to see his opportunities dissolve with each tired return from the mission. Despite his grumpy attitudes some days, his exhausted look as he collapsed into bed at eight, you still managed to fuss over him all the same— never once did you treat him differently, if not for the fact you’d cook him a slightly nicer meal after missions.

He was still busy, yes of course, but somehow he had managed to win you over. Maybe it was his silly jokes, though he’d seen you stare at his hair many times before so maybe that caught your eye. In any case, he’s happy to give any part of him to you, if not all of him. So when he’s pressed the last kiss on your nose and pulls the covers high over you, he tucks you into his chest, a final kiss to your temple as he looks down at your angelic expression. The way your smile curves at literally nothing but his touch is enough to make him fold right there, but he doesn't right now, squeezing you against him.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”

He whispers out, and you can't ignore it, eyes snapping up to look at him just from those three words. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the way they question the truth and if this really is real. Then you nod slowly, tuck your head into his chest, nestled against the beat of his heart.

“I love you too.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #flufftober #resident evil fluff #resident evil fandom #resident evil 4 #re4make #re4 leon #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #re fanfic #!pinksheepfics #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #resident evil fic

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bloodyinkandquill · 17 days ago

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Illumina x Reader NSFW

asked my friend for ideas on this one (we talk about all the sfoth a lot) and they gave me two because it was very late for them which is reasonable, let’s do this then i’ll play something on roblox maybe more phighting we’ll see, im letting bread thaw on the counter so i can make a grilled cheese because it was frozen and i just took it out

- D/V/S: This man is a hard dom, he will not be a sub, he will spite you for even suggesting he subs

- T/S/B: Technically a switch but he bottoms once a millennium, he tops every other time

- Kinks: This man is so rough, he’s already incredibly large and strong meaning he’s naturally pretty rough but this man cranks it up to 11, he also has brain control/hypnotization powers that he really enjoys using on you during intercourse, he still has a way for you to safe word don’t worry, part of that is he’s just into being in full control of you, with that he is into tying you up, specifically to the point you can’t move and or are suspended in the air, he is VERY into the size difference between you and him, goes with how he wants to be in total control, and with that size difference if you steal and wear his clothes he wants to do it on the spot

- More kinks: Likes gagging you, which goes hand in hand with general sensory deprivation, he’s a slight sadist especially if it’s biting you to the point it draws blood, sort of connected also is into dacryphilia, seeing you so small under him and wrecked with sobs gets him so turned on, into both praise and degradation, more so on degradation big if the situation calls for it he also enjoys praising you, or doing both at the same time, especially because it can almost overwhelm your brain with the conflicting words

- Aftercare: While he does take care of your physical needs he focuses far more on your mental needs, he can be rather intense during it so he wants to insure that you return to your regular self and know it was all just dirty talk, if you end early by safe wording that’s tripled, he treats you incredibly gently to the point it’s almost creepy since it’s so unlike him, but he gets you water, cuts off any bindings you may have been in, and holds you closely and gently putting his robe on you to cover your body since robes are easier to put on then normal clothes

fell asleep before finishing and watching toh, it’s 6 am no clue why i woke up but im really hungry right now, i should probably also start laundry sooner than later, imma also send this to the friend i mentioned at the beginning hope they enjoy it since im worried its not accurate 😭

#x reader #phighting x reader #phighting #phighting!#freaky #phighting illumina x reader #illumina x reader phighting #illumina x reader

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astercontrol · 10 months ago

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So…

I just watched Legacy again.

And… I keep coming back to the Ram-Castor theory.

Which first sparked from a paragraph on the Tron wiki, attributed in the footnote to Tron: Evolution…

Disparate accounts of Castor's origin exist. He was reputedly designed and created by Kevin Flynn in TC30 as an interpreter but quickly and naturally exceeded his original directives. Unconfirmed conflicting reports describe his origin as a "low-priority actuarial algorithm illegally co-opted identity of the obsolete protocol. More investigation required for verification."

This blew my mind, because... cryptic as it is, I found it easiest to interpret as:

The program that became Castor/Zuse was originally an interpreter program created by Kevin Flynn.

At some point, another program-- this "low-priority actuarial algorithm" -- took over his identity and took his place.

and… you know where my mind goes when I think of actuarial programs.

As far as I know, only one character ever canonically was described as such.

One who I cannot help but think of in the same category as Zuse (i.e., queer-coded, fun-loving, my favorite character in the damn movie, and died too damn soon.)

But... what would it take, for Ram to become Castor??

My initial impression was:

Ram gets rerezzed on the Grid, before the coup.

Perhaps Flynn sneaks in one of Roy's backups.

(Maybe this backup, unknown to Flynn, has been updated with some hacker code, for purposes of Zack-Attack shenanigans.)

And this Ram 2.0 is the "actuarial algorithm" who eventually assumes the identity of Castor/Zuse.

This was all months and months ago…

But now, having rewatched Legacy just now, the ideas have…

…. expanded.

Into the realm of the… something.

Here goes.

As to how Ram started out on the Grid:

I imagine that Flynn tried to give him something approaching his original purpose. Actuarial math is concerned with calculating probabilities, and this is useful for plenty of things besides setting insurance premiums.

(Ram probably would prefer many of those alternatives over setting insurance premiums, once he learns just how little insurance companies actually help people.)

His actuarial nature might even have him calculating probabilities about Clu, long before Flynn and Tron do… and seeing danger coming miles away.

And you know Flynn wouldn't have listened to his warnings.

Maybe this causes Ram to go into hiding early, before things with Clu go... clearly bad.

Now. Once in hiding, when the Purge starts, of course Ram decides to help the ISOs. He's a helper by nature. And he's lived under oppression and genocide.

Already he'll need to do this in some secrecy.

And this may very well be when he "reinvents" himself for the first time.

So. He hacks his way into the place of this …translation program that wasn't yet doing much of anything.

He takes on the new appearance, and the name Zuse.

Uses his hacking skills further, to control Solar Sailers and the permissions on other programs' discs, all in the name of getting ISOs to safety.

(This is all mentioned in the wiki, as well, attributed again to Evolution.)

(There also seem to be… hints? that Zuse himself is an ISO? but this is not clear on either the wiki, or in Legacy. There may be more data in Evolution? In any case, I'm proceeding on the assumption that he is not an ISO, just a regular program who may have been co-opted or hacked by another one.)

At the point in Legacy where Sam meets Zuse, some pieces fell together rather clearly for me.

When he says:

"Zuse has been around since the earliest days of the gaming grid. By necessity, he has to mind all the percentages, all the angles."

it feels to me that he was clearly talking about his past as Ram, the actuary. Perhaps calculating percentages of probability for gaming purposes-- betting odds and such-- back when the games were just for fun?

But, as he said, it was self-preservation that made him change his identity. With the Purge over, and Clu attaining greater and greater power… he had to reinvent himself again, to stay safe from Clu's wrath against anyone who supported either ISOs or Users. So he gave himself the name Castor, instead, and kept the Zuse identity under wraps.

"Castor" is actually a fairly clever choice of name. If he was going to go the Greek-gods route, "Ares" would have been the obvious code for Ram (the ram being the symbol for Ares/Aries).

(…AND I continue to pray, probably without hope, that Jared Leto keeps his mitts off of Ram completely. But, that's another topic.)

Ares was a son of Zeus.

Unclear whether this was why Ram chose the Zuse name… or whether the program had that name already before Ram took over him. (The wiki suggests that, like many names in Tron lore, it was an allusion to a famous name in computing history. In-universe, Flynn could certainly have named a program with such inspiration.)

In mythology, Castor was… one of the twins born to Leda after Zeus impregnated her. But the pregnancy had two different fathers, and Castor was not the twin fathered by Zeus.

From the perspective of a Ram in hiding, "Castor" could be taken to mean "false disguise for a true son of Zeus."

Not saying that was the sort of thing Ram himself would have come up with.

It's what I would have come up with, in his position.

But I am not an actuarial program. I am a goddamn pattern recognition program. This is obvious.

So, the above is likely all irrelevant.

Moving on!

By this point, Ram/Castor/Zuse might be pretty disillusioned with the Users, honestly.

Flynn's in hiding, doing nothing! He let Tron get corrupted, Yori either disappeared or never got rezzed in, and a tyrant with Flynn's face is in charge of everything!

I would NOT blame him for being unconvinced that changes at the top actually make a difference; that one leader's better than another.

I would not blame him for being earnest in saying, "I believed in Users once before."

And then, of course, the betrayal!

Clu's guards barge in.

Zuse…. stands back and lets everything happen. Gives them free rein to attack Sam. Stands back and watches in glee, as the whole thing goes down.

Watches Sam fighting back. Watches Kevin Flynn and Quorra bursting in to help. Watches the whole fight. Just watches, dancing and firing energy bolts randomly into the whole mess like a madman, as if he has no stake in it one way or another!

It would be easy to interpret this a number of ways.

He has gotten truly vengeful toward the Flynns, to the point of losing his grip on reality.

He has gotten truly vengeful toward EVERYONE, to the point of losing his grip on reality.

Perhaps his personality has even split somewhat-- the Castor and Zuse personas becoming somewhat separate entities?

This would fit with the idea that he started this whole business by co-opting the identity of another program!

Maybe that program's mind was always trapped somewhere within… fighting him.

Maybe it came to the surface more and more often as time went on.. becoming a possessing demon with very different views about everything Ram used to care for.

BUT.

There is one other possibility.

Let's take a look at just what he promised, and to whom, and just how the promises were followed through on.

First, to Sam. He offered Sam "a change of attire," "a forged disc," and "transport to cross the Sea of Simulation."

And then he stood back, and made no attempt to stop either Sam or his helpers or his attackers…

and the fight played out as fate would have it, letting Sam and Kevin and Quorra escape to safety…

as they, most surely, would…

as they could have been predicted to…

from the viewpoint of one whose probability-calculations have always been informed by faith.

One who, deep down, does still believe in the Users.

He might… just possibly… still care.

Also, consider.

Zuse does not allow Clu's guard to take the disc he stole from Kevin. He appropriates it for himself, as a bargaining chip to use with Clu.

For what? "Control of the city. A sizeable request, I know."

Here might be where Zuse finally miscalculates. He was expecting, or at least hoping, that there was a chance Clu would honor his end of the bargain.

If Clu had, indeed, allowed him control of the city, it would have given him an advantage from a large number of "angles"-- no matter how the political side of things played out.

It could have given him leverage to help the Flynns later on, and undo the damage caused by the theft of the disc.

He might, quite possibly, have predicted that Sam and Kevin would both be able to recover from the immediate problem of the disc being lost.

For all we know, that brilliant probability-calculating mind might have already had a plan for that, and for how to help them later.

And even if that plan failed…it could certainly have permitted Zuse to be involved on a much larger scale in the resistance.

(Kevin, deep in his "zen thing," had even said that programs forming a resistance from within could have a better chance of taking Clu down than he himself ever could.)

(Zuse might, at some point, have agreed with him on that, and prepared himself to play a part in it.)

But.

All this seems lost.

Because, instead of honoring the deal, Clu just takes the disc and then blows up the End of Line Club with Zuse and Gem inside it.

However.

We can easily imagine that someone with the previously displayed skills in

hacking

hiding

taking on new identities

calculating probabilities

and playing all angles / planning for all possible outcomes

…might have kept a backup of himself somewhere safer?

In any case.

Whatever was going on in Zuse's mind, in regard to helping or not helping the Users, and preparing or not preparing for Clu's betrayal…

you can't deny two things.

He doesn't give Clu any leads to find the Flynns. He tries to convince him they're already dead.

and, once they do escape…

there just happens to be a Solar Sailer right in reach, waiting for them to sneak on.

A "transport to cross the Sea of Simulation." Just as promised.

Just my thoughts.

#tron #tronblr #tron 1982 #ram tron #kevin flynn #sam flynn #tron legacy #zuse #castor #headcanons

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alwaysthefool · 8 months ago

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Melting (like an Ice Cream) Part 1

Tags: Fluff, Reader is a bit over-enthusiastic, gender neutral

Warnings: unemployment mention lol, ultra embarrassing reader like 2000s rom com protagonist level embarrassing

Synopsis: You don’t want to lose your job as Chuuya’s assistant because it pays well. Multi part.

Chuuya sighed as he looked down at the document assigning him a new secretary after he rejected the previous few. He simply didn’t want one, but it was mandated for someone at his position. Plus, Mori wanted him to have a reduced workload. Considering Chuuya was too busy to attend the interview process, Mori personally selected whoever was most ‘enthusiastic’ rather than someone with experience or qualifications.

And that person was you.

Green but willing to do whatever to make this job stay. You were told your boss was a little cold and transferred others who were under him. It was stupid to take a job in the mafia but the current employment situation left you no choice. The pay was really good, and it wasn’t like you’d have to off people, at least that’s what the job description said. You just had to make reports, and help out the guy who did off people— one Chuuya Nakahara, and that too in the office. *

“This is going to be a piece of cake!” You chimed as you entered the Mori Corporation building, a very sophisticated mafia front business dealing with shipping ‘items’ overseas. You stood out like a sore thumb with a bright face as you swiped your employee card to enter the elevator area, pushing the button and greeting everyone there. Your previous job taught you to be nice to everyone because you never knew when you’d need someone’s help, but looking at how no one returned your greetings, you felt like perhaps it had the opposite effect here. You stared down at the document you prepared, reading your new boss’ schedule, wondering if you should’ve gotten him and his team coffee since you were early anyway and he didn’t have anything in store for the day.

As you reached your floor, you felt like people made snide remarks right as you stepped out the elevator. Hopefully it was just your imagination. You walked to the executive’s room, knocking on the door.

“Come in.” His sharp voice echoed.

You took a deep breath, put on your most professional smile, and opened the door, cheerfully introducing yourself. He looked up, a little surprised, then looked down again. “What are you so happy about?” He mumbled. Is everyone at this place this way?

Still, that wasn’t enough to set you off. “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?”

“Chuuya’s fine. Do whatever you want, just get off my ass.”

You blinked at his words, excusing yourself as you exited the room and made your way to the adjoining office where you found a few people working away on files. Oddly, there were no windows, and the lighting was too dim, despite which a blonde woman wearing sunglasses typed away rapidly. You sat on the desk beside her, where a note was left for you telling you to take the day off.

“But it’s my first day?” You spoke out loud.

The blonde woman beside you stopped typing, making the room eerily silent and said “You must be Nakahara’s new assistant. Well, enjoy your week off.”

“Wait, what?”

“He doesn’t really need- well, want an assistant but the boss’ wants him to try them for at least a week. They- well, you will be let off with a week’s pay.”

You couldn’t accept that. You needed that job, even without insurance, the pay was too good to pass up.

I just have to prove myself as an indispensable employee so Chuuya can’t fire me!

You devised your plan as you introduced yourself to the blonde woman named Higuchi, who too had a strict boss but somehow still held her job. “Miss, do you know which car belongs to Mr. Na- Chuuya?”

“Oh, you’ll know when you see it.”

You looked at the schedule and rushed downstairs, again greeting everyone on the elevator to no response. You ran out when you reached the lobby, greeting an old man at the entrance gate, who actually greeted you back.

It didn’t take long to find Chuuya’s car. A mahogany sports car, with a foreign number plate and tinted glasses, no car being parked near it. You walked to it and looked under it, checking it for explosives and the like, just stuff you’d seen in action movies.

“What the fuck are you doing?” A sudden, irritated voice spoke from behind you.

“Checking your car for explosives?”

Chuuya sighed, pinching his nose bridge. “Headache in the morning.” He spoke under his breath, probably to not let you hear him, but you did as even his whispers were just naturally loud.

“Uh, sir-“

“Chuuya’s fine.” He repeated.

“Let me open the door, so if there’s an explosive, it doesn’t detonate on you.”

He rolled his eyes, holding your arm lightly to move you away. “All the more reason for me to open it.” He pressed a button on the keys he was holding, and the door opened upwards, in true sports car fashion. Before getting in the car, he looked to you and said “Look, I’m sorry for being rude in the morning. I’m just tired of… I don’t need an assistant. You can spend the week at home and you’ll be compensated for it. I checked your records, you’ve never been in an organisation like this before, right? Trust me, you don’t want to be here. Just go.”

He didn’t meet your eyes, but bowed politely and got in. You moved further back to let his car go.

Your new boss actually seemed nice, but seeing the job market, you did want to be there. No where else would hire someone with your experience, references, and grades at an actually liveable price. Even if you transferred to other jobs in the mafia, you didn’t think you’d be able to handle the field work they do. Accounts, budgeting, making spreadsheets and schedules, planning meetings, picking up someone’s laundry or morning coffee— that was fine by you. So you slowly walked back up, using the stairs this time so as to not meet anyone, going back to your cubicle beside the blonde woman who was still typing away rapidly.

Everyone around you was too busy to engage in conversation, and you wondered what you could do. Maybe meet with the people who hired you in the first place to ask them for— no, they were literal gang bosses, you reminded yourself. You stood up and went to Chuuya’s office, which you were given keys to.

Maybe I can clean up?

You hoped dusting didn’t count as snooping. You pulled your sleeves up and started cleaning the windows with a dust cloth you obtained from the janitorial closet. You dusted the curtains, vacuumed the carpet, wiped the table, even removed the cobwebs from the corners of the room. There was nothing more to do except organising the files, but you also didn’t want to be yelled at. You looked outside the window, watching clouds cover the city skies.

Did Chuuya have an umbrella?

You luckily carried one in your bag, owing to the unpredictable weather of the summer months. You went down, waiting at the parking lot. Sure, doing so much looked pathetic but being unemployed was even worse. As it started raining, you opened the umbrella and wondered what more you could do.

Luckily, Chuuya’s car arrived soon, speeding too fast for that weather. You rushed to his door with the umbrella.

“What the fuck?” He seemed confused at you holding the umbrella over him as he opened his door.

“Um, I didn’t think you had an umbrella?”

“I don’t need one. You use it.”

You watched in awe as he pushed past you again, the raindrops gravitating off him. Of course. Why didn’t you think of that?

You followed him, leaving your umbrella in the holder at the entrance. People stopped to bow at him as he walked past, and even greeted him at the elevator. It was then that you realised respect at the port didn’t come from being polite and making connections, but the kind of work you did. You had to take the same approach to get Chuuya to not fire you too.

You rushed out the elevator and opened his office door for him, which made him chuckle a little. “I should be opening the door for you, don’t you think?”

Everything he said was just so charming, almost kind. At the same time, he just seemed so intimidating and unapproachable. Something out of a dream.

You were lost in your thoughts and did not reply, or even notice his reaction to his office. At that moment, where he just stared in silence, you felt terror overcome you. What if he assassinated you there and then because you cleaned his room a little? What if the mafia executed in their style on the assumption of you being a spy?

“Hey, you cleaned up my office. Looks good.” He spoke unexpectedly, handing you his coat. You took it and hung it on a rack.

“Thank you, so much.” You were breathless. “I didn’t touch the files or cabinets because-“

“No need’ta be so nervous.” He seemed more friendly than he was in the morning. “You did good. You can organise the cabinets if ya want.”

Everything was too surprising. You wanted to be a strong employee and butter him up a bit more, but everything felt overwhelming. “Should I get you coffee?”

“No, I’m good with wine.” You resisted the urge to ask what he was doing drinking so early as he poured himself a glass. You were about to leave when he asked you something that would be the start of both your lives changing.

“Hey, would you like a glass?”

#slowburn #fic #bsd #bungou stray dogs #fluff #hcs #self insert fics #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #gender neutral #fanfiction

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angryschnauzer · 11 months ago

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January 11th 2024

Yeah its been a while since i updated. I haven't had the energy to if i'm honest, but here we go.

Hubby had his brain surgery end of November '23. The tumour they took out was a nasty one, somewhere between the size of a golf ball and a kiwi fruit. The wound has healed well with little to no side affects apart from some double vision, but he was checked out for that and it is a common after affect of brain trauma and was remedied with an eyepatch for a few weeks.

We met with the Neuro Oncology team at Royal Marsden Hospital in London. They are one of the best (if not the best) cancer treatment centres in the whole country, and we worked through a treatment plan.

Just before Christmas hubby was also cleared to have shoulder reconstructive surgery (he broke his shoulder bone in the original seizures back at the end of October '23). There was a really small window of time between it being enough time after the brain surgery that he could go back under general anaesthetic, but also enough time to mostly heal before he started Radiotherapy and Chemo, so just 5 days before Christmas hubby was in and out of our local hospital in a single day to have that surgery.

Christmas was a quiet and subdued affair. I also herniated a disk in my back the day Hubby had surgery (i was clearing the deep freeze out ready for grocery delivery), so it meant both he and I were dosed up to our eyeballs on strong painkillers for most of the holiday, and Little Dude spent the majority of the break either playing video games or building his new lego sets.

Two days before Christmas i also had to have emergency dental work (i had been grinding my teeth and had previously cracked a tooth) and whilst i was in the dentists office some utter idiot crashed into my car. That was the last thing i needed but i simply handed it all over to my insurance company (who are aware of my husbands situation) and they arranged a hire vehicle and sorted repairs.

Onto the start of 2024. This is the first week of Radiotherapy and Chemo for Hubby. He is getting very tired and fatigued already from the Radiotherapy, but thankfully no nausea from the chemo as yet, but that could change over time. He is scheduled for a full schedule of 6 weeks of this dual treatment, where we are having to visit Royal Marsden every day Mon - Fri for the six weeks, and then he also takes the chemo 7 days a week for the six weeks.

He'll then have 4 to 6 weeks 'off' treatment for his body to relax and recuperate, but will have scans and MRI's during that time to gauge what further treatment will be, but its likely to be just chemo but a stronger dose, but no radiotherapy. The chemo is to be 3 weeks off one week on, so a 4 weekly cycle.

The one thing we have discovered isn't done is prognosis's. When we first got to Royal Marsden we were shocked as they started talking about years, and explained that although it was a really nasty tumour, it was found very early and whilst it was still relatively small for its kind. They've discussed things like 'this years treatment plan then we'll look at next years', and also for a while Hubby was being considered for a clinical trial which candidates who have prognosis's of 12 months+ are only considered for. In the end he didn't meet the criteria (his cholesterol was too high). The Macmillian Nurses also have been talking to us about Mobility Car assistance schemes where you can get govt assistance financially and get an adapted vehicle on a 2 year rolling lease. All these timings are reassuring in one way, but worrying in another - we have no idea what the future holds and it really does cement in stone that our time is limited and could end any moment, and makes it very difficult to make any long term plans. You don't realise how much of your life is preplanned until you end up in this situation and aren't sure if you can book your kid onto the school residential trip in 5 months time.

Should anyone want the mundane daily day-to-day life updates you can follow me on my personal instagram @simone_with_an_e its generally a load of utter boring bollocks, but i try to keep it updated daily with updates when i can as its a lot easier to do 1 short paragraph than a big update.

For me my mental health is a little better now that i've had time to process Hubby's diagnosis and that he is getting treatment. There are still days or hours when i fall apart, and it could be something as simple as listening to a song on the radio as i drive back from dropping Little Dude at school and i realise the song would be lovely at his funeral. I end up having to pull over and have a cry whilst switching the radio off. I'm loosing weight and aging quickly, my hair is turning grey from stress and i realised i've aged about 15 years in the last 3 from stress. My appetite comes and goes, and things like red meat now turn my stomach and i can't digest it. But i also haven't drunk alcohol since the day before Hubby had his seizure back in October. I feel like i need to stay 'alert' in case i need to rush him to the hospital for something. I don't miss it as such, but I miss the ability to fully relax. Its hard to describe but i feel like at the moment i've lost myself and am just functioning to care for those around me, going through the motions as such.

Anyway, this has been a long update. I do still lurk here, you may see me pop up in notifications liking something, but at the moment i don't feel its right to start putting fandom stuff back on here yet. I do hope to get back to writing at some point. I miss it and the unfinished stories plague my mind as i have such lovely plans for story arc's and really want to finish them.

Take care all,

Schnauz

xxx

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 month ago

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The Internet Is Forever: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: A man is going around killing women in their homes and filming it for all to see. It's heartbreaking to watch but you're determined to catch him before he can hurt anyone else.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

"The single biggest problem with communication is the illusion that it has taken place." - George Bernard Shaw

You're not required by your work to attend any more therapy sessions. Melissa signed off on your progress even though you were a bit sad to leave. She had created such a safe space for you to vent about your life and feelings. She gave you the option of attending sessions either through insurance or out of pocket which you might do. You don't need to be going multiple times a week or even once a week. Maybe you might do a bi-monthly thing.

You and Spencer are getting ready to go to work when you notice him staring at himself in the mirror by the front door. He got a haircut since his hair was getting too long but you think he looks sexy. You cap the thermos full of coffee and slide it into your bag before walking over to Spencer. He runs his fingers through his hair and tries to style it in a way that makes it look normal.

"Spencer, would you stop? You look handsome."

"What if they don't like it?"

You turn him to face you and reach up to touch it. He closes his eyes when he feels your fingers glide through his hair. You scrape your nails against his scalp lightly, and you grin when you see goosebumps on his arms.

"It doesn't matter if they do or not. I think you look sexy."

"My hair was getting too long."

"I know. I don't mind this at all. As long as your hair isn't longer than mine."

'It wasn't that long," he chuckles.

"Again, you look very handsome." You tighten your grip on his hair and lightly tug it. "Plus, it's still pullable."

"Don't start something you can't finish," he growls.

"Come on, we're going to be late," you laugh.

Everyone is already in the briefing room when you get to work. He nervously plays with his fingers so you take his wrist and run your hand over his pulse point. He slides his hand into yours and squeezes it tenderly. You let go of his hand when you walk into the briefing room.

"Well, hello," JJ says.

Everyone looks at Spencer in confusion.

"What, did you join a boy band?" Hotch asks.

"No?"

"Isn't he handsome?" you grin and kiss his head.

"Alright, this is Dorris Archer who is the third woman to go missing in Boise, Idaho this year. With her are Paula Renmar and Samantha Rush. They went missing roughly two months apart," JJ says.

"Okay, so what are we looking at here? Late twenties to early thirties and all living on their own, but two of them were in committed relationships. It looks like they lived in normal suburban houses that can give the unsub privacy."

"The differences are more striking than the similarities," Spencer says about the looks of each woman. "There are different hair colors and different body shapes."

"What do you know about his MO?" Hotch asks JJ.

"That's why we were invited in. The abduction sites are pristine. There is no DNA besides the victims, and there are no signs of forced entry or a struggle. The victims aren't reported missing until two or three days after they're abducted."

"Two or three days? Women like this don't just vanish without someone noticing."

"Yes, which is why I asked Garcia to dig into their lives."

Speaking of, Penelope walks into the briefing room at the right time. She gives Spencer a confused look but doesn't comment on his hair.

"When I took a look at their online activity, I could easily see how the unsub is doing it. It's through their social networking sites. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and just about everything else. If it's a social media network, they were on it. If you look at each of their last posts, they all say the same thing. They were all going out of town, on a business trip, or on a vacation. However, when you look at the time and date stamp on each of the photos, they were posted the morning after they went missing."

"The unsub posted them," Hotch says.

"Social network apps are an easy way for an unsub to target his victims. These women were especially open. They posted everything from what they were having for dinner to where they were going on dates."

"So, this unsub friends his victims and then uses that as a cover once he takes them? That means he can hack into their accounts. He's excellent with computers, then."

"That definitely profiles as patient and organized," Spencer says. "He's obsessive enough to remove all forensic details but also patient enough to wait two months before abductions."

"He can afford to be. He gets three days to do whatever he wants to these women. That means we need to assume these women are already dead. The question is what he does do while he has them?"

You continue the conversation on the plane.

"So, if this unsub is using social networking apps to find his victims, can't we use that to find him? If these women each had a hundred friends following them, then the unsub would pop up on each of their lists, right?"

"The detective in charge, John Fordham, looked into their groups. Everyone checked out."

"Social networking sites are surprisingly insecure. Facebook recently tried to update all their privacy settings, and in doing so, they made everybody's profiles viewable."

"Can somebody explain to me the appeal of these sites? 'Eating sushi tonight. Yum.' 'Boss is keeping me late at work. Grr.' Whose life is so important that we'd be interested in this kind of detail?" Rossi asks.

What a boomer. You have to hold your laugh in but you lock eyes with JJ who only smiles.

"I don't know. I guess that's the running joke, right? Nobody is, but we'd all like to believe there's actually an audience out there that wants to follow our every move. some sites even have a GPS feature built in. You can tell exactly where someone is every time they post a new comment."

"This is telling us how he's finding them, but it's not telling us how he's getting into their houses," Hotch says.

"At the very least, I believe that he has copies of their keys. Dorris had a home security system installed, but the disable code was entered at 1:56 AM. He knew that, too. He also found a way to deal with her dog. A German Shepherd she adopted from the pound last year went missing the night that she did," JJ explains.

"So, this guy's gotta be in and out of the house well before the night of the disappearance. He comes up with some ruse and talks his way inside. Once he's familiar enough with the house, he knows he can come back and kidnap them without disturbing anything."

"What about the people who come into your house that you don't consider a threat? Home repair guys? Dog walkers?"

"Detective Fordham looked into that, too," JJ says. "No one even came close to being a killer."

"Okay, Morgan and Prentiss, start with the last abduction sites and see if anything points to his MO. Dave, you, Reid, and Y/N go back over the women's lives. Start with their friends on the social networking sites. If this is how the unsub is finding them, maybe they're connected to him without even realizing it."

Once you land in Boise, you meet with Detective Fordham at the police station.

"Thank you for coming," he says after the introductions. "We can really use your help."

"Did you find anyone willing to talk to us about the victims?"

"The problem wasn't who to bring in. It was who not to."

Looks like you're doing interviews. The man you're with is Dorris' boyfriend who is eager to give any information that might be important.

"Thank you for coming in, Nate. We just have a few more questions about your girlfriend's disappearance. Did Dorris ever mention letting someone in her home?"

"Like who?"

"We're just trying to figure out who would know the code to her home security. It must have been someone she trusted with the combination."

"No," he shakes his head. "She was smart. She took precautions. That's the whole reason she got Bruno, her dog. She trained him for like six weeks."

You sigh and take out her crime scene photos.

"I know these are going to be hard to look at, but do you see anything different?" You lay out the photos for him. "Maybe something he might have done to get himself inside?"

Nate has a hard time looking at the photos but he is confused rather than sad. He comes across a picture of a bookshelf that's only filled with photographs of her and Nate. There are three shelves with two pictures on each shelf.

"No, this isn't right." He points to a picture of them that's on the top shelf on the right. "This is when we first started dating. It should be on the left, not the right."

"She wouldn't have rearranged them?"

"No. She arranged them in a certain way to tell a story. It was how we fell in love."

You step off to the side and call Derek who is at her house with Emily. You explain to him about the misplacement of the photographs. If he rearranged them, he must have put something behind them.

"Do you see it?" you ask.

"Yeah. It looks like he tried hanging something on the wall behind it. There's even a little bit of residue left over."

"Morgan," Emily calls out.

"Let me call you back." Derek hangs up the phone and walks over to Emily who is on the small landing on the stairs. "What is it?"

"I found something on here, too."

"What would he try to hang on this part of the wall?" he asks.

"Well, from here, I have an unobstructed view of the second floor and down the stairs."

"It's the same thing down here. You can see the entire entrance." A light bulb went off in his head. "Cameras. He put up cameras."

You, Spencer, and Hotch head over to her house once Derek and Emily request your presence. He quickly explains the discovery of the holes and the theory of the cameras.

"We think this is what he's using to spy on his victims. They're small, they're cheap, and they're easily hidden behind photos, books, and plants. The footage they record can then be transmitted anywhere to a website of your choice and even your cell phone. He can toggle between cameras to see everything that's happening in the house."

"How many did you find here?"

"Five. Upstairs, downstairs, bedroom, and even the bath."

"A ruse might get him in the door but it doesn't buy him enough time to put five of these up."

"Right. That's why we think he starts with one camera facing the front door. That tells him when it's safe to enter the house, when she comes and goes, when the dog-walker comes, and what the combination to the house is."

"It fits his MO. If he learned their every detail on social networks, he would be just as obsessive in his surveillance," Emily explains. "Once he learns their routine, all he has to do is pick the lock, put up the rest of the cameras, and he got their whole life at his fingertips."

You stand on the landing and look at the front door. The unsub's energy is all over the place. He's been here more than once like Emily theorizes.

"What does he do with the video? Does he keep them?" Spencer asks.

"If he's a voyeur, yes."

"Voyeurs are rarely violent, though. Their excitement comes from spying without the object knowing they're being watched. By abducting his victims, he's removing the outlet of his sexual release. He must have some other agenda with these cameras."

"He might be sharing the footage with other people. We need to have Garcia dig into surveillance and illegal video websites," Hotch says.

Spencer sees a picture on the fridge of Dorris and Nate which he takes down.

"I'm going to take this with us."

"Why?"

"We originally profiled that there wasn't any facial similarity between the victims, but I'm not so sure that's true. I want to compare Dorris' picture with the other victims."

You four head back to the police station where Rossi is talking to Penelope over video chat.

"With the videos the unsub took, it looks like he posted one of them online which I can use to nab him."

"If he puts it on the web, can't you track that back directly to his computer?"

"Normally, yes. Normally, I can get you the network he's using in seconds and get the physical address of his modem. This guy is different. "Do you guys know what a proxy server is?

"It's an internet relay," you say from behind Rossi who jumps slightly at your presence.

"Precisely. Kids use them to get around blocked sites. Now, usually, one proxy is plenty but this piece of work is using dozens of proxy servers. He's bounced his signal off of China, North Korea, Russia, and South Africa."

"Garcia, can you trace him back to Boise?" Hotch asks.

"Of course, I can. That's exactly what I'm doing but time is the unfortunate ingredient I need." Something comes across her computer that you can't see. "It looks like one of the proxy servers archived what he was streaming on the night of Dorris' disappearance."

"Can we see it?"

"Pulling it up now." Penelope's video chat moves to the left of the screen and another screen pops up on the right so you can still see her and watch the video at the same time. The unsub is wearing a ski mask to hide his identity as he enters her house. He immediately types the code into the alarm panel to disable the alarm before it goes off. He takes something out of his pocket just as Bruno walks up to him. "Oh, please don't hurt the doggie."

He doesn't. He feeds it a treat and lets it out of the house. Now that he's alone, he slowly treks up the stairs as if he is making a show for himself.

"Well, Prentiss and Morgan were right. He knows the house, and the dog knows him. How many trips inside the house would that take? A dozen?"

The camera changes the angle to show the entire upstairs floor and the stairs. He reaches the top of the stairs and heads to Dorris' bedroom. The camera switches the angle so that it looks like it's a POV camera.

"See that? The camera's attached to him. It's his point of view so he can relive it over and over again," you say.

The unsub grabs Dorris' throat and starts strangling her. She immediately wakes up and starts struggling but the unsub has a deathly grip on her. Penelope immediately looks away from the screen, not wanting to see that.

"Can someone tell me when it's over?"

"Not yet." When Dorris takes her last breath, the camera changes to one he stashed in her bedroom. "Okay, he's done." Penelope turns back around to watch the unsub fix her hair like he's caring for her. He wipes a stray tear from her cheek. "He's tender to her. She means more to him as a corpse than as a living person."

"Garcia, we need to find the unsub's network. Even if it's a rough area, it'll help narrow the geographic profile."

"Sir, that's what I'm trying to figure out. There is something else kind of huge you need to know about." She goes into the code of the video and shows a piece of the code outlined in red. "Do you see this line of code there?"

"Yeah."

"It allows the user admin, and in this case, the unsub, to set up a chat room. People were watching this on the night of the murder."

"We thought he was posting these after the fact. He's not. He wants people to experience it with him. He wants an audience. He has fans."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

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lost-technology · 5 months ago

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Explaining Vash Outside the Fandom!

So, today on another forum I mentioned Vash the Stampede. I mentioned him by way of "I don't ask myself WWJD? so much anymore as WWVtSD?" and explained "Vash the Stampede." I said "If anyone is unfamiliar with this name, go ahead and ask and I can fangirl all over you, but be warned, you will be reading all day." I got a taker. And then another taker who is a person on the forum who is straight up not having a good time right now and needs some distraction I feel - to read someone's dumb fangirling over a fandom they aren't in yet. So... I wrote up an essay explaining Vash the Stampede in Word and pasted it in shifts on the blog: (uck, looks like I'm gonna have to post this in shifts, too. Dumb tumblr!

*Flashes my fangirl license* You asked about Vash the Stampede? *Raises eyebrows.* Big mistake. You shall be here all day! Vash is the protagonist of Trigun, an anime / manga by Yashiro Nightow. Well, the manga is by him and there are two different animes to date, one originally airing in 1998 before the completion of the manga (and it gained the idea enough popularity that Nightow was able to continue the manga and purposefully took a different track to keep the story fresh. Because he had to switch publishers the continuing story was titled Trigun Maximum). As of 2023 there has been a reboot of the anime, Trigun Stampede, done in a cell-shaded CGI style that takes more cues from the manga. It has done its own story elements, too, most notably having the City of July as a part of the story, making it almost a prequel, since the City of July is past tense in the other media. A second set / continuation / completion of it is set for a future release date and as of yesterday, the “final phase” of the new anime will be titled Trigun Stargaze. Additionally, there was a feature-movie made in 2011 based solely upon the first anime titled Badlands Rumble, which is kind of the black sheep of the fandom (personally I enjoy it, find it very funny). So, anyway, Vash is a tall blonde man with a Bart Simpson hairdo and a long red coat who lives on a desert planet with 10X the guns of ‘Murica. There are two suns and five moons. It’s a scavenger world where people barely eek out a living using a form of lost technology known as “Plants” – which are these energy and materials production entities housed in giant lightbulbs (or something more like tanks in Stampede). No one knows how to create Plants anymore and few know how to maintain them, so everything is slowly dying (except, of course, the native sandworms. Yep, there’s something Dune-like going on). People live a half sci-fi half Old West existence and things are, again, very violent. It’s a world where you have higher chances of making it out better as a bandit than a farmer. Vash is a pacifist. He is also an outlaw with Sixty-Billion-Double Dollars ($$) on his head because he has been shown to be capable of incredible destructive power. Now, most of this comes accidentally from trying to weasel out of tough situations and people after him getting themselves hurt, but somehow towns fall apart. Except for the City of July (or Jul-Ai in Stampede), which he did wipe out. Under circumstances not of his own making or will, but the normal citizens of the planet don’t know that. That was around 24 years ago in the first anime and in the manga. July exists as of the beginning of Stampede. Early on in the manga’s story, an insurance company that gets a lot of damage claims regarding damage he supposedly caused declares him a “Human Act of God” so as to avoid payouts. He is assigned a pair of insurance agents, Milly Thompson and Meryl Stryfe, to follow him around to attempt to mitigate the damage he might cause. In the anime, it is the same, except that his bounty is not removed for some reason. (In the manga, the government removes his bounty per his “Act of God” status). He is also known as the Humanoid Typhon, putting him in the same category as a destructive storm. Vash-damage is thereafter treated in the same like as hurricane damage! Honestly, this is one of the most creative things I have seen of any media – having the local superhero / super-cryptid followed by INSURANCE AGENTS. (I am fond of characterizing Trigun as “If Mayhem from the Allstate commercials was followed around by Flo from the Progressive commercials”). (To Be Continued in Reblog-posts)

#trigun #trigun maximum #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #the why of vash #slacktivist #what I subjected the good people of fred clark's slacktivist blog to today

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bebsibby · 4 months ago

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The Top Surgery Log

Hello! I got top surgery yesterday! I want to catalogue my experience so I can remember it and provide some insight for people who want it but haven't gotten it yet. I will continue to update this post as my healing goes on. Everything under the read more!

Leading Up

My insurance is with Kaiser which has been an AWESOME experience so far. They do require a therapist letter, so no informed consent, but the process was very simple and there were a lot of people dedicated to getting me what I needed.

I had about 3 therapist meetings where she just asked me questions about my experience with gender and how my transition has gone so far, my support network, can I afford it, etc. Then she wrote my letter, sent it off to the surgical team, and I was approved within a few days!

After that I had my very first consult with the surgeon. He took pictures, did a breast exam, asked about general health and family health history, then gave me a little presentation of the process. It had post up photos of prior patients, a lot of explanations of the types of surgeries available that he does, and a lot of good information in general. He answered a lot of my questions and made me feel fully confident and prepared for the experience.

Also important to note: I told him the surgery I had been wanting ever since I started doing top surgery research was Inverted-T and I was curious of he knew of it/why that WASN'T an option they offered. He explained everything to me and showed me what he expected my results to look like if I DID want to go to a different surgeon outside of Kaiser. Said surgeon does NOT accept insurance, but would work with the insurance side of things to make sure they would reimburse for the expenses. I really appreciate that because it showed me they wanted to do get exactly what I wanted.

Based on all of that, I decided to just opt for Double Incision both to save me time and get a result that was aesthetically more pleasing to me. Loss of nipple sensation is unfortunate, but apparently IT only has the potential to bring a little sensation back, which wasn't worth all the extra hoop jumping for me.

After this consult, my surgeon told me to think about everything then email him a few days later with my decision. I did and then a few days later got my call to schedule. I got to pick my date but not the time of day, as I would later learn that's decided by the hospital and not me. Once my surgery was scheduled, another pre-op appointment was scheduled about a month before the surgery date. That appointment was very short, as it was just signing consent forms and confirming everything I wanted. He also gave me a packet of supplies I needed to get before the surgery.

After that, I'd occasionally receive emails with more pre-op instructions, like when to stop eating and drinking, showering instructions, when to stop certain medication, and how to care for my drains.

The Surgery

The day before surgery I had initially planned to do all of the last minute housework and leave for the surgery the next morning. HOWEVER, when I got my call to tell me the time, it turns I had to be there by 6 AM! The surgery center is over an hour away from me and the bus my wife and I were going to take didn't run that early, so we had to scramble to make other plans. Luckily the friend who was going to drive us back home was cool with us crashing on his floor for the night, so we were able to do the most important things at home then take the bus down the day before.

Once we were all set up for the night, I did the first cleaning routine that I was required to do, set my alarm, then tried to sleep. I didn't get much due to Hard Floor and also excited but that wasn't a biggie because I'd be sleeping again soon LOL.

Next morning I woke up, did my second skin cleansing, and we headed out! I checked in, waited a little in the waiting room, then got called back to start.

Everyone who was working with me was SUPER funny and kind. I got asked more questions, signed another form, took some pre-med tylenol, them stripped to switch into my gown, bonnet, and grippy socks (Got to keep those btw :>) My IV got put in my wrist which REALLY fucking hurt!!!!!! It never stopped aching. After that, the surgeon popped in to check on me and see if I had any questions, then they wheeled me in to the operating room.

I had gotten another premed via IV that was already making me tired, and I remember the last thing being the surgeon saying what to do with my removed tissue once he was done and I was gone!

The surgery itself lasted around four hours, but all I remember is waking up and seeing my wife and friend sitting at the foot of the bed. I said hi to them and that was apparently third time I had said it. I had been up and talking to them for awhile all loopy but also becoming suddenly very serious when talking with the nurses. I've had a few surgeries but I've NEVER been this way after so that was funny. The nurse had also been giving ME all of the postop discharge info and I don't remember it so thats unfortunate! I only remember her talking about the drains. I had to read it all again when I got home but it was all good.

Once I was awake enough, they wheel-chaired me down to my friends car, packed us all up and we headed back home. I napped about half the time but still kept my eyes closed when i was awake and talking bc my vision was still FUCKED and it was so bright out. We got home, I was lead inside, and that was that pretty much! I napped several more times, nibbled on some roast beef, emptied my drains (which made me very woozy, mostly due to the standing) and went to bed!

After Surgery

Day one! I woke up a few times in the night mainly to go to the bathroom, but slept REAL deep otherwise. It rained all night which was awesome. I woke up feeling very achy but not painful except for my throat. Those ET tubes are NOT easy on your body. Took all my meds, got out of bed eventually, and had cup ramen for breakfast. Now I'm just sitting on the couch with all my computer stuff moved from my desk to where I'm sitting. I got a long hdmi cable so I can just watch stuff on the big TV so I'm pretty set up!

My wife just brought me some cookies and overall I'm just feeling really good. Not really excited or emotional about it. Its just a very warm contented feeling.

I don't know what my chest looks like yet since my post-op binder got put on while i was still out, but everything gets removed next week! I'll probably update again after that appointment.

Feel free to ask specific questions! I'll be resting most of the time so I'll just be around!

#top surgery

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midnight-mourning · 1 month ago

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I'm back! (for the most part)

Hello, hope everyone is doing alright, needed a few more days than I expected. BUT, here now and slowly working on being more active. May take me a bit but plan to get caught up with everything and the likes. Going to release promptobers throughout the next couple of days, along with anything else I'm currently working on. Expect some updates on the oneshot, ch. 35 and so on as well ^-^ Thank you all for your paitence and hope to be back to regularly posting soon!

some medical/mental stuff below the cut if you're curious, I was going to save this for the ch. 35 note, but figured I might as well just say it now as it's part of the reason my return was delayed

SO, haven't really spoken on it but I've had a sinus infection for about two months now and gonna be so fr with you all, it's sucked. Like, i've never had one this bad before and it just totally knocked me on my ass. I've been tired, dazed/brain fog, some bad headaches/face pain, all the really fun stuff. I made the joke that I spent like two days of being 23 healthy and the rest of the time I've been sick lmao

But anyway, I kept waiting to see if it would clear up on it's own (and for like a week or so there my health insurance was messed up so there was that to deal with) and it just, didn't. And with everything going on with research (esp this past week) I just made myself tough through it hoping it would get better, and it didn't. So, finally went to the doctor and got on some meds and I'm feeling a LOT better.

The point to all this is to say, I've had no motivation to write beyond very small bursts and thus why I've been putting out promptobers but not the latest chapter of CS. My energy has just been super low, and I had a lot of brain fog for several weeks and I just, couldn't bring myself to do it. Maybe it was a little bit of writer's block from stress too, not super sure

I took the break mainly bc things with research just got, really shitty for a few days there and I just needed time away from everything for bit esp with the sickness issues. Thankfully, things are working out a bit better this week people-wise and hopefully we'll continue to go up from here.

As for why I was gone the few extra days, the stuff they put me on made me feel physically great, but it also made me feel like doing absolutely nothing for a day or so. But, figured out the timing for those so now it's manageable to get through the next week and hopefully I'll be fully back to normal by then ^_^

TL;DR if you can go to the doctor when you're sick, go. It is NOT worth the discomfort, stress, etc to not. Also, take a break when you're stressed, does wonders for your mental health

well, since you took the time to read all of this, enjoy these pictures of a cat that showed up at my parents place a few days ago. She’s a bengal! Which makes her the second stray that's shown up that is incredibly rare/bred to look like that (the first is Nubs, my idiot who eats everything if any of you recall). Not to worry, she went home to (hopefully) her forever family early yesterday :)

#you don't realize how out of it you are until you're back in it man #like being on autopiliot and then all of the sudden BAM #feeling normal???#and good???#having coherent thoughts???#wild #not to mention if I can survive my exam tuesday I'll get a bit of my free time back #legit if i haven't been doing school or promptobers i've been aimless #it was the worst~#but now I'm good and i hope I stay good~#im gonna be really sad if I dont~#god the drafts are full rn fr fr #y'all are getting fed after I starved you for a week lmao #void shouting

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angel-fics · 1 year ago

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In The Room Where You Sleep

Summary: Dalton was just being curious and stumbles upon something he probably shouldn’t have. He then does something he shouldn’t have.

Warnings: Mentions of the Further, mentions of entities, Dalton being a creep, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), sexual fantasies

All credit to @glodessa who wrote the imagine that inspired this, so much talent there and you’re feeding my Dalton addiction

Dalton was your friend. His primary art class was in the studio next to the orchestra rooms where you practiced in. He’d wandered in on you playing a section piece on the violin after he’d forgotten that his class was cancelled.

Since you two had obviously seen each other on multiple occasions when going to and leaving from class, he’d felt comfortable striking up a conversation. He usually wasn’t into initiating introductions, but Chris had started forcing him to interact with more people and make friends. You were the first person he had introduced himself to without her assistance.

In a way, he felt a sick sense of possession when it came to you because of that. It made him feel funny, like he was gross and he tried to stomp it down, but it would crawl it’s way up his throat whenever you talked to him. He’d met you all on his on, without a buffer or cleverly charming segue. You knew him for him from the get go, and still liked him. You liked him enough to start waiting for him before classes for a chat. You liked him enough to exchange contacts and let him take pictures of you to save for his own personal enjoyment put into his saved contacts.

You liked him enough to let him walk you back to your dorms every time he had the chance to. Which he did, considering he started walking a different path to insure that he would run into you more often.

He didn’t think he was odd, not really. Lots of friends took secret pictures of each other. For fun, it was funny, like a secret joke. And lots of friends walked together in between classes, it was normal. Even if they didn’t share certain classes. Or if one of the friends wasn’t completely aware that the other friend was nearby.

Dalton didn’t consider it strange that he didn’t like when you talked to Chris, or any of his other friends. Or anyone that might find you attractive. In his eyes, that should’ve meant everyone. You were gorgeous and people should be falling over themselves trying to be with you, in his opinion. But you were his. His friend, at least. And he hated not having your full attention.

Nighttime was the worst, in some ways. You two had met up on occasion to help each other study or wind down from an intense test. But most nights, you turned in early to spend time with your roommate. Dalton hated your roommate, she was so clingy and always convinced you to go back to the dorms, cutting off his time with you. He thought she was off, or at least very selfish, and that she used every opportunity to guilt you and take advantage of your kindness and naivety.

Dalton would never do that, he was lucky to get to be your friend. You were beautiful, talented, kind and accepting. You even accepted his ability of astral projection without hesitation. You were beyond perfect to him, and if he wasn’t with you, he was thinking about you. Constantly, and usually aloud, much to Chris’ annoyance.

“Dolphin! Please, for the love of fuck, ask that girl out already. You’re driving me nuts!” She threw herself back onto the spare bed in Dalton’s dorm in dramatic agony, groaning loudly in complaint.

“No, Chris. She’ll just think that I became friends with her because I wanted to get in her pants,” he dismissed, tossing a dirty t-shirt into his hamper a little too forcefully.

“Isn’t that what all guys do? What’s the big deal?” Chris sat up again to try to convince him. It wasn’t the first time either, but she was almost positive that you liked Dalton back and would rather you keep his mouth too occupied for him to verbally obsess over you. Like he was doing right now.

“I’m not going to do that, Chris. Just drop it.” His voice was unnervingly firm and Chris snapped her mouth shut before another incentive could fall out. Dalton was usually mild-mannered, at least when it came to anyone but his dad, not really the aggressive type. Anti-social and surly, but not aggressive. Unless it had something to do with you.

Chris thought there was something not quite right about Dalton’s crush on you but she figured his abnormal childhood and resulting trauma made it hard for him properly process his feelings. And she was reluctant to ask in case it set him off.

“I heard her roommate is going home to her parents’ for her dad’s birthday, maybe y’all can hang out more this weekend,” Chris suggested instead, unfettered by Dalton’s tone. “She left earlier this afternoon.”

Something seized in Dalton’s chest. You hadn’t mentioned that to him. You didn’t have a reason not to. Was there someone else? Were you going to spend the whole weekend with another guy? Did you have a boyfriend? Anger and hatred for this secret man clouded his mind and he felt like throwing something against the wall until it broke.

“I hadn’t heard about that,” he replied to Chris coolly. “I’ve got some homework to finish, do you mind?”

Chris nodded slowly, grabbing her bag and quickly making her way to the door, watching Dalton worriedly. She gave a half-hearted wave goodbye and left without a word.

As soon as the door shut, he quickly locked it, tearing his ball cap from his head and flinging thoughtlessly towards his desk, knocking over a small stack of his sketchbooks and a tin of water. Cursing under his breath, Dalton begrudgingly trudged to clean up the mess before the water could stain or damage any of his work.

After mopping up the water, he flipped through his drawings to check if any of it ruined the paper. One of the sketchbooks was relatively new, but nearly full of pencil and ink sketches. Of you.

Most of them took up an entire page of their own. They were innocent, somewhat, just candids that he’d done while or after hanging out with you. You smiling, laughing, playing the violin, biting your lip awkwardly. Gorgeous and sweet.

There were some other ones, smaller in comparison to the rest and done with a light hand. You changing through the window of your room. You bending over at work. You crying to your mom on the phone after you tore your favorite dress right before a date you ended up not going on. Done in a hurry by someone who was sketching without a still reference.

It was not stalking. No, he wasn’t like that. He didn’t threaten you or send you lewd messages. He didn’t get off on scaring you or making you feel unsafe. He wanted you to feel safe around him, did everything in his power to make sure you were always comfortable with him. Plus, he never invaded your privacy, he just looked. Watched. It was friendly, protective even.

Plus, those sketches were nothing compared to the rest. Small enough for three separate drawings to fit on a page, and darkly filled in with a heavy and rough hand.

It wasn’t intentional, not at first. He was a guy. You were his crush. He couldn’t control his own thoughts, let alone his dreams. It happened, and it was completely normal and natural. Not at all creepy or perverted.

He dreamt of you often. He couldn’t keep his mind off you even in his sleep. Of course, his unconscious mind was different than his conscious mind. Mostly, anyway. A lot more eager for you, hungry for you.

The pencil drawings were of you as you appeared to him in his dreams. Bent over his desk, wearing a string of pearls and a sultry smile. You, on his bed with your legs spread out invitingly, your fingers scissoring your slick folds. There was even one featuring him, his lower face dripping with drool and your arousal as his tongue delved into your wet heat from under you. That one was his favorite, even if the drawing itself wasn’t exactly his best work skill-wise. He had a hard time balancing the pad with only one hand, which he was also using to draw.

Dalton sighed and picked up all of the sketch pads, putting them back where they were and collapsing on his back on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he should bring up your roommate leaving and confront you about not telling him. You must have had a good reason, right? It’s not like you were getting tired of him or anything. Right?

As he drifted further and further into his thoughts, the room became darker around him. Standing up to fix his lamp, he caught the sight of himself sleeping in his peripheral. He’d fallen asleep and accidentally projected.

He didn’t do so often anymore, the Further was a scary and dangerous place and he was cautious of bringing something back with him. But it had its advantages, for pranks or finding out things that others couldn’t. Surprisingly, he’d never used his ability to watch you. You were too pure and beautiful to see through the lenses of the Further, he liked seeing you surrounded by light and color, with no potential of evil spirits ruining the experience for him.

But just this once…

No! He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

You trusted him, it would be so easy. And it’s not like he was trying to be a weirdo, he just wanted to see if you had plans that weekend without having to actually ask you. It would only be once, for a few minutes. He wouldn’t mess with you or your things. He would just listen in and leave.

He grabbed the lantern and walked out of his room. He could’ve found your dorm with his eyes closed, but since it was in a different building and he was traveling through the Further, it took him longer than he would’ve liked. But at least he didn’t encounter anyone. You lived on the second floor of your dorm house and yours was nicer and more expensive than his. You had your own bedroom and personal bathroom, not having to share with your roommate and the rest of your floor like Dalton did.

Your door was unlocked and after he entered your dorm, he locked it himself, knowing he’d have to unlock again it in order to leave. Your bedroom door was open and he could see you through it, sitting at your desk and typing on your phone. Silently and curiously, he peered over your shoulder to watch you text your roommate.

He rolled his eyes at seeing her contact but ignored it in favor of the messages being sent. Mostly average, just you being your considerate self and asking about her trip home. She, obviously, sent paragraph after paragraph detailing every insignificant second of her weekend away, not once asking anything about you. The entire conversation revolves around her and Dalton had to bite his tongue to avoid scoffing in your ear, which was inches from his mouth.

Finally she asked about you, specifically your plans for while she was gone. Luckily, she could serve a purpose for once, Dalton thought.

You mentioned work, homework and just relaxing and Dalton was tempted to leave and rid himself of his craving to kiss you. Then, he saw you type his name. You wanted to surprise him by inviting him over for a sleepover. Your roommate responded by teasing you about you and Dalton finally progressing to the next stage in your friendship; a relationship.

Huh, maybe your roommate wasn’t as bad as Dalton thought she was.

Dalton’s heart was racing as he continued to read all of your roommate’s suggestions for extremely sexual twists on common sleepover activities, all in order to seduce him. You didn’t have to try to seduce him, but trying any one of these wouldn’t hurt. He felt his cock hardening in his pants and knew that he probably should’ve left. Like, now.

But then you sighed loudly into the empty air. Your head dropped back, your lips parted and you shifted awkwardly in your seat, your thighs pressing together tightly. Dalton felt his mouth water just watching you and suddenly stopped in his tracks. He decided that he would wait until you either went to the bathroom or fell asleep. If he tried leaving before then, you might catch him.

So he stood off to the side and simply observed you from up close. You seemed more deflated when you weren’t around him, less animated and poise. Less…cheery. You continued to stay at your desk texting your roommate for a while before getting up for a glass of water. It seems like she was going to bed. You paced around the kitchen as you sipped your drink, looking slightly anxious about how the conversation ended. Dalton regretted not reading it along with you and now he couldn’t because your phone was off and locked.

Huffing out a tense laugh to yourself, you marched back into your room, passing Dalton to get to your phone. You continued pacing as you opened up your messages and scrolled until you found a particular contact, hesitating for a moment and then opening the chat thread. Dalton stood in front of you this time and read his own name from upside down. Why were you pausing when it came to texting him? Did this happen often? We’re you inviting him over?

He watched you type out a greeting and began pacing in your room. When the message delivered, Dalton panicked before remembering that his phone was next to his actual body. You wouldn’t catch him over his phone notifications sounding off in your otherwise silent room.

You turned off your phone and sat on your bed, your back straight and your eyes staring out into nothingness. Your leg bounced erratically and you started checking your phone every thirty seconds in case you missed his message. You were waiting for a response from him, Dalton realized. And he couldn’t do that while he was standing here with you.

Now was definitely the time to go and you gave him the perfect opportunity when you started collecting your things to take a shower, muttering to yourself about how desperate you were. It was clear that you were agitated from waiting on his message, and he supposed it was because he hardly ever took more than 20 seconds to start typing back. He only took long if he was busy, and he would always tell you beforehand if he was.

As much as he wanted to watch you undress yourself and shower, becoming aroused slightly once more at the idea, he wouldn’t cross that boundary when you were so vulnerable and unaware. It was completely different from the times he watched you change your shirt or remove your bra from outside your window. He was in your home and you were going to be completely naked. Dalton wanted go reserve that honor for when you would strip in front of him eagerly, at least for the first time he ever saw you naked.

*~*~*

Gasping, Dalton sat up in his own bed, his erection pressing against his sweats and his body feeling sweaty. He immediately opened his messages and read your message asking him what he was doing. Getting his own clothing, he walked to the common bathroom in his dorm house and stripped, sending you a picture of his shower stall with the reflection of his bare torso halfway in the frame.

He’d never been so forward with you before. You’d seen him shirtless on occasion, he wasn’t shy about his body, but never on purpose and he hardly ever sent you pictures instead of just telling you what he was doing. But now that he knew you felt the same way he did, he felt confident enough to give actual signals to tell you that.

He turned on the shower and waited for the ancient water settings to actually heat up the water. As he was about to step in, you messaged him back with a photo of your own.

You were wearing nothing but a robe, tied at the waist, but doing a very poor job at concealing your cleavage, and your hair was soaked. The mirror that you had taken the picture in was fogged and he could see streams of steam swirling in the air around your head. So you liked really hot showers, fuck, that was attractive to him. You smiled shyly into the camera with one of your hands clutching a towel in your hands.

You: “I just got out of the shower, how funny is that?”

God, you were adorable without even trying. He wondered if the placement of your robe was intentional or if you were just that sexy without trying to be. It could go either way, you were as effortlessly cunning as you were absurdly oblivious to your affect on others.

He quickly went through his shower routine quickly, not taking his time to enjoy the water and relax like he usually did. He didn’t want to keep you waiting again. He decided to toe the line of flirtation and idle conversation once more by sending you another photo. This time following your lead with a mirror pic. He was still shirtless and brushing his teeth with an overly wide and sud-filled smile. His shorts hung low on his hips and his entire frame was centered in the photo this time.

D: “What’s up?”

It was a lame line, but he wanted to keep the conversation going and see if you were going to invite him over. He spit out his toothpaste and gargled mouthwash, accidentally swallowing some as you replied back. Coughing at the strong taste burning his throat, his eyes widened as he memorized every pixel of the photo you sent, catching on to his little provocation.

The mirror in your bathroom was still slightly fogged but he could clearly see that all you were wearing was a t-shirt. It was big enough to cover your thighs, so Dalton didn’t know what you were wearing under it and he could see your nipples poking through the material ever so slightly. He dragged his lip into his mouth and bit down hard, hand clenching on the edge of the counter. He gathered his shower stuff and walked back to his room, keeping his towel gathered in a ball in front of his crotch in case he ran into anyone this late.

It didn’t occur to him to read the message you sent until he was about to send one himself. He was so distracted by your selfie that he completely forgot that he was in the middle of a conversation with you. He wondered if it was weird to be more turned on by you in your pajamas than you soaking wet and in a towel.

You: “Nothing much? What are you doing right now?”

He sat down on his art stool, and angled the camera at the mirror that sat in the corner between his spare bed and the wall. He hadn’t gotten the motivation to actually put it up so it laid on its side and only showed from his waist down at this angle. The picture showed his bare stomach, shorts and legs, with one of his feet braced up on the leg of his seat.

D: “Chilling in my room now, you?”

You responded a minute later in much the same fashion. This photo didn’t show your face either, but he could see your hair and the junction between your neck and shoulder at the top of the photo. You were stretched out on your bed, your legs propped up in front of you and you holding the weight of your upper body on your other arm as you snapped a photo of yourself. From the way your shirt rode up on your thighs, you weren’t wearing any shorts, but he couldn’t see your underwear.

You: “Same. My roommate left to her parents’ house so I have the place to myself.”

Was this your way of implying that you wanted him to come over? How does he respond to that information without sounding weird or letting on that he’d already known? Should he tell you that he already knew? He decided that now was the perfect time to reorganize his desk and actually put up the mirror in his room. It took fifteen minutes for him to respond and the guilt ate at him now that he knew how you reacted when he didn’t message back quickly.

D: “Oh, really? Yeah, I kinda always have my place to myself, haha :)Look what I finally did.”

The added “haha” looked so stupid that he wanted to jump out his window. He hoped the selfie he sent to you would make up for it. He was standing in front of his mirror, acting as if he was only trying to show you the mirror you’d been bugging him about putting up. He was still shirtless and a light sheen of sweat made his body glow slightly from the exertion of his impromptu redecorating. He angled his phone to show a grin, but the rest of his face was covered.

You took a few minutes to respond yourself and Dalton thought he understood your anxiety about having to wait for messages. He felt the anxiety was all the more potent now that you were sending each other photos of yourselves. But he couldn’t deny that he liked the tension, the anticipation ate him up and he was beyond keyed up.

You: “I got bored being here by myself so I’m doing my makeup :p”

You: “Oml, finally!”

You were kneeling in front of the camera with your legs slightly spread. The lighting in your room made it hard for him to see what your underwear looked like and he felt like a pervert for being disappointed. Probably not as bad as he would’ve felt before he knew that you reciprocated his feelings. Your hair was put up into an updo so it was out of your face and it reminded him of that Pamela Anderson hairdo that you complained about not being able to do. You looked beautiful, your makeup was darker than you normally had it, more like dark seduction than pretty fairy. Dalton wondered if that was on purpose.

He sent you a closeup selfie of half of his face, his eyes mostly angled down at the phone screen instead of the actual camera and a slight smirk on his lips. His neck, collarbones and one of his shoulders were on display for you as well

D: “Guess I got bored too. Your hair looks like Pamela Anderson’s, btw”

D: “I like your makeup, it looks good!”

You responded quickly and without a photo.

You: “Are you joking me?! The one time I’m not bending over backwards trying to do it right…”

Dalton had to take a minute to recover from the mental image of you bending over backwards, particularly the image of how your breasts would look at that angle when your next message came in with another photo.

You: “Come over?”

This time, your phone was placed close to the floor and angled up for Dalton to see your knees pulled up to your chest and you dramatically and exaggeratedly pouted at the camera, your dark red lips shining in the camera flash. The flash also, probably unintentionally, highlighted the junction between your legs and he could actually see your panties this time. White lace. Son of a bitch!

Instead of responding, he jumped around his room and tried to gather all of his shit to take to your place and was pulling up his jacket when he noticed some papers on his bed. His homework that he had told Chris about earlier and completely forgot about. It was due at midnight and his teacher was a hardass about homework.

“Fuck!” His curse echoed loudly in his empty and otherwise silent room and he slammed his things down on the bed in anger.

As desperate as he was to go to your room and potentially spend the night inside you, he was stuck inside his dorm unless he wanted his grade to tank. With a heavy heart and tense motions, he sat in his chair, a different one from his stool, and faced his mirror. He spread his legs so that he was man-spreading and propped a leg up on the edge of his bed. He held up his homework in one hand above his head and made a faux-angry face at the camera, his expression not even making at dent when it came to showing just how angry he actually was. He gave himself a minute of fantasizing about your lips kissing marks all over his body before snapping the picture and sending it to you.

D: “I was on my way when I remembered I had homework. Fucking sucks! Raincheck? I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning?”

He ordinarily didn’t curse over text, or in general. He wasn’t a prude about swearing, but he just didn’t feel the need to do it. However, he also needed you to understand that he wasn’t blowing you off, and then he genuinely was upset about not being able to spend the night with you. He felt it was probably too risky sending you a picture where he was very obviously at half-mast and worried that he was being too forward and would make you uncomfortable.

Two minutes of complete agony imagining all of the ways that you would dismiss him and tell him to forget about it, or get angry and misinterpret what he was telling you. Now that the conversation couldn’t go anywhere, the anticipation wasn’t alluring and fun, it felt like acid burning his skin.

You: “Oh, please do your homework! Grades are important. Breakfast sounds good! Goodnight x”

A kiss, you messaged him a kiss. And you were completely fine with it. For the first time in his life, Dalton felt the urge to do a chest bump with a bro. He was on top of the world right now. He was tempted to rush his homework and run over to you as soon as possible, but as soon as he sat down to do it, he knew that the assignment required all of his time and attention. Fortunately, the assignment itself was relatively simple, but it was incredibly time consuming, which is why he’d been putting it off.

Two hours later, he took some pictures of his completed homework and sent them to his professor’s email. It was fifteen minutes til midnight and he wondered if he should risk going over to you now. You weren’t expecting him, though, and for all he knew, you were asleep or something. He debated texting you that he was done and seeing if you’d extend the invitation to come over again, but you hadn’t even brought up his last picture and that made him a bit insecure. What if you were trying to just ignore it as a way to say you weren’t interested? Even back in your room, when your roommate was encouraging you to take advantage of having your dorm to yourself, you had only denied all of her sexual innuendos. He knew you liked him back, but maybe sending you a picture of like the one he sent was too much too fast?

Oh yeah, astral projector. He could always just pop in and check without actually having to check. It was fine the first time, right? No big deal anymore. He wasn’t hurting anyone.

He relaxed on his bed and before long, he was picking up that lantern once more and leaving his body behind, making sure that all of his lights were on to protect his body before he left the room.

You had been in your room with your door mostly closed when he came in again. You really should make sure your front door was locked, he thought. He heard little whimpers coming from your room and was immediately concerned, automatically assuming that you were crying. Your bedroom door was swaying on account of the industrial fan that you insisted was the only thing strong enough to keep you cool at night. He had no problem opening your door and putting it back in place, making it look completely natural in case you noticed.

From what he could see, you were looking at your phone and were mostly covered by your blanket. Only one of your hands was holding your phone, which Dalton found odd because you normally preferred using both hands. Finally seeing your face, Dalton noticed that you had no tears on your cheeks or in your eyes. You weren’t crying. What the hell were you looking at on your phone?

Him. You were looking at a picture of Dalton that he’d sent to you. More accurately, you were looking at the second photo he had sent you, the one where he was brushing his teeth. It took Dalton several moments to begin thinking again to put the dots together.

Oh. Oh.

Just as Dalton registered what you were actually doing, you threw your blanket aside in frustration and essentially showed him that he was correct. He watched in rapt fascination as you rubbed your clothed center over your panties with two fingers. You kept focused on your phone, swiping over to the photo of him after he hung up his mirror, as your index fingers slipped beneath your lacy white underwear and into your slick heat. Your breathing was loud and shallow, the occasional moan slipping through as you touched yourself.

Dalton should not be here. He knew that. He knew what was and what wasn’t appropriate, his mom made sure he knew how to respect women, so he knew what he was doing was the furthest thing from okay. He also knew that he would have to be dragged by his teeth to get him out of your room. His cock swelled and twitched from under his shorts as he stood over, watching you masturbate to a picture of him. In the low lighting of your mostly dark room, he could see the shine of your wetness on your fingers and over your folds. He wanted to drag his tongue over your labia and savor every drop you gave him. It was all for him, after all, he was entitled to it.

You groaned in annoyance through your teeth and yanked your panties down your legs. Dalton’s severely dilated gaze zeroed in on them and he made a mental note to grab them before he left when your shirt joined it in the floor. You were completely nude and sitting up on your bed, in a very similar position to the photo where you had shown him your makeup. He’d never look at it again without thinking of this. He wished he had a picture of this.

You looked like a goddess or some kind of celestial siren as you arched your back and groped at one of your breasts and toyed with your clit. The chill of your room and the sudden banishment of your blanket had your flesh covered in goosebumps and your nipples hard. Dalton wanted nothing more than to cover your body with his and discover new forms of pleasure using his tongue, hands and cock. You were everything, you surrounded him and took up so much everything. And yet, he wasn’t actually with you, no matter how much he wished he could be. He didn’t know why he couldn’t try, you were his now. You admitted to it. Maybe not to him directly, and maybe you didn’t know he was there, but it didn’t make it any less true.

Dalton approached your bed and was about to rest his weight on it when you grabbed a decorative throw pillow from the mountain of pillows you had on your bed. You shoved it between your legs and adjusted it so that the woven seams pressed between your folds. You rested your weight on it and rolled your hips experimentally to find a rhythm and angle that felt best. Soon, you were panting and gasping, and Dalton could barely hear you over the stupid fan.

As you rode the pillow, Dalton lost his restraint. He either had to take care of himself now and fully condemn himself as an actual peeping tom and a pervert, or take care of you and risk you freaking out and losing you before he could actually have you. He’d rather hate himself for a little while than you hate him forever. He reached into his shorts, cupping his erection and squeezing lightly. He bit his lips and tried to keep quiet. He didn’t think he would last long, and he didn’t really care to either. He’d worry about that once he was actually inside you.

Dalton started off with slow and trading strokes before working up to the rhythm you set for yourself. You were grinding down on the pillow with slow and long thrusts, lowering your body slightly so that the seam of the pillow rubbed your clit. Dalton imagined his face replacing the pillow and started speeding up the movements of his hand, spitting on himself to help his hand move more fluidly along his shaft. Coincidentally, you started to quicken as well, humping the pillow desperately instead of steadily rolling your hips.

“Dalton! Oh…fuck! Daltonnn…” you cried out softly into the seemingly empty room. As the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, you lost strength in your arms and fell to the mattress, your hips still moving rhythmically as you came. Your limbs felt electrocuted and twitchy, and you could do nothing but gasp and whimper as you came down from your high. Rolling over, you reached down and caressed your soaked folds, moaning softly as your fingers became coated in the stringy remnants of your wetness.

Dalton nearly fell to his knees in his desire to suck your fingers into his mouth and devour your cunt. Luckily, he managed to stay upright and went rigid as he came in his hands, making sure the pearly white spurts of semen didn’t make a mess anywhere in your room, if they could. He wasn’t actually entirely sure how it all worked when he was in this state, but he wasn’t going to risk it.

He waited until you fell asleep to grab your panties and leave your dorm, falling back into his own body and finding it a mess. His shorts were soaked at the crotch with his cum because his actual hands couldn’t stop his real orgasm from staining his clothes. He tore off his shorts and decided to sleep naked, hiding your panties in his pillow case.

*~*~*

You woke up refreshed and well-rested the next morning, still not used to the stillness and quiet in the absence of your roommate, Carla. Usually, she was up by now blaring metal music while she got ready for the day and you would make the two of you breakfast. You went to do just that when you heard a knock at your door and remembered that Dalton was supposed to come over with breakfast.

You told him to wait through a text message and grabbed a pair of athletic shorts, yanking them on as you made your way to let him in. Much to your surprise, the door was unlocked, though you don’t remember leaving it that way. In all fairness, you also don’t remember the last time you had locked it, so it was fair game.

Dalton greeted you with a large smile, showing off his extended canines, and a bag from your favorite pastry shop. It was hard not to blush after what you did when you saw the pictures he sent you, but the food was also distracting. You excitedly took the bag from him and started rifling through it as he guided the both of you to your room. Had he ever been inside your dorm before? How did he know which room was yours?

Before you could ask him, he plopped himself onto your bed and settled onto his stomach. He then used a pillow to prop up his chin. The same pillow you had used last night.

There was something about the way he was smiling at you. The way he was watching you.

“So, did you sleep well last night?”

********

Lemme know if you want a part two or maybe a “What if Dalton hadn’t had any homework?” situation.

This was super fun and sorry if it’s too long

#Spotify #romance #dalton lambert #insidious films #insidious: the red door #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert smut #smut #stalking #pervert!dalton

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