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ivymarquis · 6 months ago

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Happiness is a Butterfly

It's been literal months since I read @ceilidho's divorce AU and guess what it is still rattling around in my brain because it is just scrumptious.

This is what I vanished to work on lol

Pairing| John Price x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 10.6k Kinks/Content/Warnings| 3rd person reader, Post Divorce John Price x Wife!Reader, Attempting to co parent, John is obnoxiously agreeable until he no longer wants to be, there is the s l i g h t e s t mention where reader is worried John might snap but he doesn't scout's honor, squirting, unprotected PiV, blow job, face sitting, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, reproductive coercion if you squint, baby trapping if you squint, it is a lil dubby because John doesn't do anything behind Reader's back but he steamrolls the fuck out of her into getting what he wants lmao

The words choke in her throat like they don’t want to leave.

Maybe that’s a higher power giving her just one last out to change her mind- to not say the four words that will upend the lives of everyone in the household.

She can barely bring herself to look at him.

In the decade they’ve been married his temper has never been something she’s been afraid of, but in that moment it is all she can think about; every headline she’s ever read of a soldier snapping and killing his wife and children floating in her mind like a neon sign flashing danger.

She’s never feared his temper but she’s also never croaked out the words I want a divorce to him before either.

Her arms cross over her body as her gaze settles a bit off to the side of him. Everything about her body language is closed off and cagey as he looks up from his desk- no doubt having been mentally preparing for another round of come to bed, love - in a minute darling, almost done only to be caught off guard by the actual request.

He doesn’t answer her as he sits back in his chair, looking at her.

She chooses now to choke out the words because she really doesn’t think she has it in her to say the words with him standing. He’s sitting- still imposing as ever even if he’s always been magnanimous around the house- and she’s on the other side of the room avoiding eye contact.

He stands, still silent as the grave, before walking towards her in slow, measured steps and coming to a halt right in front of her. The ground has become absolutely fascinating as she refuses to meet his gaze.

As his hand raises she imperceptibly starts to shift, but absolutely nothing escapes John’s notice. “Don’t,” he starts before clearing his throat, his tone softer as he speaks again, “Don’t do that. You know me better than that.”

This time she doesn’t move as he goes to cup her face- takes her chin in hand and forces her head up. “Look me in the eye and say it again.”

It takes a moment for her to scrape together her nerves, eyes picking up off the floor to meet his. She’s not sure entirely what she expected but she thinks she assumed there’d be more of a reaction. He’s watching her- thinking- as she stumbles over the words.

Doubt twists in her gut as once again she squeaks out “I want a divorce.”

“Is there someone else?” he asks evenly.

“No! John I’d never-” It’s true; ever since he’d turned her head all those years ago she’s been blind where other men are concerned.

“Okay,” he soothes with his thumb against her cheek and she’s suddenly aware that this is probably not how this conversation should be going. “I believe you. Are you sure this is what you want?”

She’s been agonizing over this for months. She’s not even sure what gauntlet was thrown down to make her say enough is enough and have today be the day. Nothing spectacular has happened.

Maybe that’s reason enough. His job is always just the higher priority. While he always ensures his family is cared for while away, he drops everything for work in a way that simply isn’t reciprocated at home. Even when he’s physically here he spends so much time locked in this damn office he might as well be back at base.

Nothing has changed after begging and pleading and she is tired with a bone weary ache.

Are you sure this is what you want? Echos in her head while he awaits an answer.

“Yes.” No. “I’m so tired of being alone,” she confesses. “I’m tired of constantly having to beg you to be here even when you’re home. If I am going to be by myself raising the boys then I just need to be by myself.”

He doesn’t seem surprised by the words in the slightest. Probably because they’ve been having the same argument for years. This is not the first time she’s been frustrated with his job.

“Okay,” she can’t believe her ears with his easy acceptance. “If this is what you want, then okay.”

She sobs- alone- in their bed like the entire situation isn’t her fault, burying her face in the bedding to stifle herself from the kids. John’s gone.

Everything goes about as smoothly as it can. John doesn’t fight her on anything. With his schedule there’s no point in ironing out a visitation schedule through the courts. They agree to just work it out when they can, given how he can be called away at a moment’s notice.

They’re adults. They can handle this.

Once her nerves settle from the initial shock of actually saying the words to him, and she’s had a few days to think on his reaction, she decides she’s pissed.

The easy acceptance ruffles her feathers in a way she can’t put to words. She gave him a decade of her life, a home, three children- has kept everything running seamlessly while he jumped in and out of their lives to answer the call of duty and he didn’t even try to fight for her.

If he was being sullen or grouchy with her it would be easier to process everything- all the things set into motion that she started.

Perhaps she’s projecting. But he just acts like nothing is amiss as he comes by to pick up the boys or drop them off or just stop by to spend time with them.

She wakes up on the 15th and right on time she is awoken by a ding from her phone.

Perhaps, she thinks, it is a lapse in judgment to kick him out for not being around, given that she’s now cut into what already little time he has to spend with them. Isn’t that the focus of her argument? That it’s too difficult for the boys?

Their boys- three of them, each one a head taller than the last- are understandably devastated and struggling to deal with very big, very complex feelings that result in major meltdowns and fights. They blame her and they’re not wrong.

Then one day, when old habits die hard and she confides in John tearfully one day as he’s returned from his latest deployment to see them, while she can’t say it stops all together she can say there’s a marked improvement when they come back.

What did he tell them?

Her phone dings on the 1st like it always does every other week and her agitation is palpable.

She doesn’t even need to look at the notification.

John isn’t missing a beat this entire time and he’s driving her crazy.

The notification is from the bank, of an entirely too large deposit to an account that only she has access to. John’s name is not on it and he can’t touch anything in it.

He can however put money in it.

He is as steadfast and agreeable as always while stubborn enough to just bulldoze into getting his way.

She knows she should be grateful. That so many ex husbands abandon their children and former wives in favor of some shiny new girlfriend. That it would be so easy for him to throw her “if I'm going to be by myself then I'm going to be by myself” back in her face.

Her career had been put on hold with the boys. When everyone was older and in school and didn’t need her so much the plan had been to go back. And then John had kept putting babies in her and the timeline got pushed further back with the subsequent births of their two youngest children.

It would have been so easy for him to tell her to just figure it out herself, that this is what she wants and she can navigate life on her own just fine.

Instead he deposits entirely too much money into an account he can’t access.

She’s not sure why today is different, but she hits her limit and calls him. They’ve never actually spoken about his little transactions.

“You alright, then, love?” She remembers deciding to pick her battles and not harp that she’s not his love anymore.

“What are you doing?”

There’s a brief pause.

“…I’m on base? About to take my lunch, actually. Maybe you can -“ she cuts him off before he can get any further.

“I’m not calling to ask about your day and you know it,” she snaps irritably. “I’m asking about the deposit. What are you doing?”

John, once upon a time, used to tease about his spoiled, hot headed wife. She knows she is being the epitome of spoiled and ungrateful but come on- no one is this agreeable about a divorce. She doesn’t trust it.

“I have no idea what you mean, love.” He assures her good naturedly.

“You have no idea how several thousands have been deposited into my account?”

She wants to reach through the phone to strangle him when she hears that even tempered laugh of his.

“I know how the money got deposited, love- I did it myself. I don’t know why you’re questioning my motives. We both know you haven’t worked outside the home in years- you need money to keep everything going.”

“John, it's too much. I know you know how much I spend in a month!”

He sighs. She can picture him sitting at his desk on base. Sprawled out in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation.” He responds evenly. ��The plan wasn’t for you to go to work until the youngest one’s in school next year. You’ve been out of the market for years, I can only imagine an employer trying to use that to short change you.”

He lets out a sigh, and she feels something akin to guilt for freaking out on him.

John’s always been the one to make the best out of a shit situation. To try to steady the boat in the storm. Even when his own wife (ex wife) is the one making waves.

“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation,” he repeats. “I just want you to be able to raise the boys comfortably without worrying about making ends meet.”

The something coils tighter in her gut.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he assures her and once again she has to bite back a not your sweetheart anymore.

“Now,” there’s the slightest shift to his tone and feels herself falling back into old habits again. As keyed in to him as a dog awaiting her master’s command. “What I was going to say earlier- I’m about to take my lunch. I would appreciate it if you could bring me the boys. I’d like to see them today.”

She can’t very well tell him no now can she?

The boys are her heart and soul but she sees them for exactly who they are- three rambunctious little spitfires always up to something. Good boys, but curious and mischievous. The curse of having smart children.

Until they’re on base at least. All three are quiet as church mice, gathered behind their mother and peering at the soldiers from behind her skirt.

She can’t truly correct the guards at the gate when they greet her as Mrs. Price- she hasn’t changed her name and isn’t sure if she’s going to.

It’s not hers anymore, but it’s still her boys’ name and things are easier. She’d likely have to retrain herself to respond to her maiden name.

The boys are hot on her heels until they stumble across John- as soon as he sees them, dropping a knee with open arms the trio are off like a shot as peals of “Daddy!!” fill the air.

“You can just call me after you’ve finished lunch and I can come get them,” she states amicably, watching John as he wrangles the three of them. The sooner she can get out of here, the better off she’ll be (because God help her, watching him with their oldest two was how she ended up pregnant with the third, and watching him with them now just makes her yearn for something she no longer has any claim to).

Immediately the three boys are protesting, albeit not quite as vocally as they normally would.

“Mummy, no!” “Mum!” “But it’ll be fun!” the trio state their cases to varying degrees.

John shushes the three of them gently to keep them from winding up too much before turning to her. “Come on now, sweetheart, for old time’s sake, hm?”

Their little three stooges voice their approval of that idea, chiming in with various degrees of “Yeah!”

Ultimately it’s the desire to keep her children complacent that has her agreeing. She doesn’t want a scene.

Unfortunately, a (albeit mild) scene is what she ends up having anyway.

She knows (is hopeful, at least) that her oldest doesn’t mean anything by it while they’re waiting for their food and asks “So what time are we going to nana’s later?”

Her eyes snap to him about the same moment as John’s snaps to her, and she’s deliberately trying to avoid his gaze.

Why, oh why, could he not have asked either before or after lunch?

“We’ll probably get ready after we go back home.” she’s careful to keep her tone neutral.

“How fun,” Ah shit, she can hear the suspicion in John’s voice. “Any reason in particular, or just a fun weekend?”

“Just for the night. Mum’s picking us up tomorrow. Right Mum?”

The server chooses that moment to bring their food, which gives her a moment to figure out how the fuck she’s gonna weasle out of this conversation.

“Yes, I’ll come get you after breakfast.”

“Could have called me.”

“That didn’t seem appropriate. They’ll be fine with my mum.” Her gaze drops to her plate, knowing full well if she looks up that his eyes will lock on hers.

“Don’t see what’s inappropriate about me watching my own kids.”

It’s not that she’s happy to squabble with John where the kids have a front row seat, but there is a dark part of her that delights in watching him. He has been obnoxiously agreeable this entire time and the cracks are showing. It makes her feel like she’s dealing with another human being, because she knows she’s got her moments where she loses her mind during all of this and it’s beyond frustrating that he is so dauntless no matter the circumstances in every situation.

“It’s not-” Jesus, does she tell him? What does that conversation look like? “I have plans tonight.”

John is not a stupid man and she can see the moment he realizes she’s not planning a girl’s night out for herself.

That she hadn’t thought it appropriate to ask him to take the kids so she can go on a date with another man.

“I’m watching them,” he asserts before returning to his plate.

“John-”

“I said I’m watching them,” his tone is softer, but leaves no room for argument. Conversation over.

There’s nothing wrong with her date. He is well mannered and polite, attentive when she speaks. No obvious red flags- he doesn’t dismiss her stories, doesn’t shirk back at the mention of her three children, isn’t rude to the server and isn’t texting on his phone opposed to actually engaging with her.

There is nothing wrong with him and for an idle moment she pictures what her could have been like had she married a man like him instead of John. The 9-5, the set routine, the security and reliability of knowing that he is coming home at his regular time and he’ll be there for the boys various sports and activities.

And yet all she can think of is John, who is sitting in their home, watching their children. Of the late night returns from deployment where they’d have their stolen alone time- quiet as church mice so as not to wake the boys who most assuredly would not be going back to sleep if they knew their father was home.

Of the delighted squeals of their children when they come into the room to wake her for breakfast only to find him in bed like nothing was amiss.

(And yes there was always the heartbreak that followed him walking out the door, the anxiety between phone calls that would brew until she once again could assess that he is alive and not dying blown to bits on the other side of the world)

There is nothing wrong with her date but he is not John, and that is an obstacle he will never be able to overcome.

She is safely deposited on her doorstep with polite pleasantries. She thinks he knows, has a kind smile and understanding eyes as she carefully tells him I’m sorry, I thought I was ready but I don’t think I am.

Someone will recognize him as a catch but John never let go of the hold on her heart. Someone will want this man but all she wants is John.

It’s not as late as she thought it would be when she comes home- a fact that John immediately comments on when her eyes land on him while searching for him.

“Well that didn’t last long.” The air feels different from before she left home, and she stands stock still as he rises off the couch and strides towards her.

“I,” she starts and stops, choking on the words. Why the hell did she ever agree to letting him babysit again?

Yes he’s the father of her children and yes she wants him to spend time with them whenever possible but this is just so incredibly awkward for her.

“I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again,” she finishes lamely.

“I would imagine not, if the date ended that quickly. We were always out for hours, weren’t we sweetheart?”

She can’t quite get a read on him but the entire tone of the conversation is… odd. Hell, the entire conversation is odd.

John is not one of her girlfriends for her to cheekily report back how her date went. He’s her ex husband for God’s sake.

“We were,” she agrees amicably- mind spinning with memories of the various times they had stumbled into bed early in the morning, or crawled into the backseat of John’s car like horny teenagers or-

One moment her thoughts are full of the various times John had folded her up like a piece of paper, and the next she’s aware that he’s closed the distance between them while she’s distracted.

“Makes me wonder if that was your plan all along,” he ponders out loud. She squeaks in protest, rooted to the ground and not even attempting to put more space between them.

“Was it? Having me home with the kids while you were out with another man?” His tone holds far more warmth than one would expect of a man all but accusing his (ex) wife of being a hotwife.

John’s hands grip at either side of her hips, thumbs rubbing in affectionate circles. She doesn’t quite know what to do with her own- she can feel the shift in the room. She hasn’t been with anyone since the last time they slept together, and there’s only so much fucking herself can due to take the edge off.

She can’t mimic the weight of a man’s body on top of hers- of his voice rumbling in her ears, the body heat radiating off of him as he coaxes one orgasm after another out of her.

She doesn’t want just a man though, in the broad scope of the term. It’s John.

He stops stroking at her before making a few deliberate swipes. It dawns on her that he’s feeling at the seam of her lingerie set underneath her dress.

“What’s this?” He asks, hands roaming and squeezing at her sides- possibly seeing if he can gauge which set is hidden away by feeling how the fabric wraps around her.

It’s a new one. While she hadn’t been sure about sleeping with her date, the thought of wearing lingerie that at one point had been meant for John felt wrong.

There’s a part of her willing to admit that at the rate things are going, he’s likely going to be christening this one also by the end of the night.

“Were you planning on showing this to him?” John’s enjoying torturing her- dangling the man she wasn’t ever all that interested in just to bait her.

“No, I-,” she hadn’t really thought about it. There was no plan. She was going on a date, so she put on lingerie like she always has.

Like she always did- for him. John would make a game of figuring out which set she had on.

“I just want you,” the truth bubbles out of her throat unbidden.

John descends on her like a man starved- fingers digging into her hips with a grip that she knows is going to leave bruises later.

“Bed,” she mumbles between kisses. Given how John immediately starts herding her backwards towards the bedroom, he’s clearly on board with this plan.

Once the door is shut, the pair cross the room before collapsing against the bed.

Clothes are shed in a hurry, pried off with little regard as they’re shucked to the floor.

“This one looks lovely on you,” John murmurs in praise against her skin as he gropes at the lace adorning her body, dropping to his knees on the side of the bed.

God has she missed this- missed him. The feeling is clearly mutual from the way he busies himself between her legs, lips peppering kisses across her inner thighs quickly while he makes his way towards the spot she wants him most, the gusset of her thong pulled aside.

Just as his breath is fanning over the core of her he pulls back slightly. Her thigh twitches in frustration, so close to finally having the nirvana of his tongue lapping at her only for him to have to be a tease.

“Has anyone else gotten a taste of this sweet cunt?” He asks, eyes on her with an intensity that has her squirming.

“No! There hasn’t been- John, I swear I haven’t-“ she protests.

“I believe you,” he assures her.

She probably should ask if the same could be said for him- for her own sake if nothing else. But she’s already made a slew of questionable decisions that haven’t gone the way she wants, and she errs on the side of not asking questions she doesn’t want an answer to.

Her eyes roll immediately once his mouth is on her. His hands grip at the underside of her thigh, holding them apart to give him unfettered access.

“John,” somehow she can’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that he’s got her back in their bed. Everything is novel and familiar at the same time, and she is overwhelmed by how easy it is to fall back into old habits.

He pulls away just long enough to speak, “I missed you so much,” before going back to eating her out.

John is a man on a mission, and he is familiar enough with her body to know exactly how to get her where he wants her. He also knows all of her tells- God damn him. No sooner has he dragged her to the precipice of her orgasm does he sit back, content to let her dangle but stopping just shy of letting her finally topple over.

“Wh-why?” She whimpers, lust, anticipation and disappointment curling in her gut.

He’s so gentle with her when he takes her left hand in his own, thumb running over her knuckles in soothing movements.

“Where’s your ring, sweetheart?” his question is a non sequitur if she’s ever heard one, head spinning trying to catch up through the haze of pleasure she’d been drowning in just a moment ago.

“My ring?” She mimics more on reflex than anything else, mind still reeling to catch up.

“Yes, sweetheart, your ring.” He repeats, eyeline following hers as her gaze shifts to the jewelry box sitting on the vanity.

There’s no written standard on how long to keep your ring before getting rid of it, and she hadn’t been sure about it. Figured she could always get rid of it later- when it’s never a question of if she’s making the right decision. Even with the ink dried on the paperwork finalizing their divorce, the ring feels like the final nail in the coffin for their marriage.

So she put it in her jewelry box, where it is safe but out of mind and she could worry about it later.

She never thought for a second that ‘later’ would arrive in the form of her ex husband telling her “Go get it and bring it here.”

It’s a beautiful ring; everything she ever wanted growing up. The cut, the size, the setting- John did a lovely job when he picked it out all those years ago.

Gonna be an officer’s wife, sweetheart he’d told her after she’d accepted his proposal. Gotta look the part.

Surely no one can blame her for not gnashing at the bit to part with it?

She hesitates for a moment before ultimately deciding to just do as she’s told- John didn’t tell her to put it back on. So she holds it pinched between her thumb and pointer.

In an alternate dimension, where she’d gone back with her date and let him charm her out of her new lingerie, there would be some insecurity over her body. Bringing three tiny lives into the world takes its toll in the form of stretch marks and loose skin and some extra weight that just clings to her like a needy toddler- but any time John has seen her naked, he is as moon eyed as he was the first time all those years ago. Like he can’t quite believe his luck and he’s not entirely sure she’s real.

Tonight is no exception. As soon as she’s in arms reach his hands settle on her hips, pulling her closer to him.

“We’re going to lay some ground rules, and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress. Am I clear, pet?” Warmth and affection roll off of his tone in waves despite his words. All she can do is nod dumbly.

“This,” John takes the ring from her before sliding it back on her finger,” stays where it belongs. Right here.”

He pulls her even closer- she has to crane her neck to look up at him. “There’s no more dates with other men. That stops tonight.”

Another easy acquiescence. She nods in agreement.

He spins her slowly, facing away from him and then pulling at her hips so she’s sitting on him. She starts to hover, holding herself up until he swats at the side of her ass. “Now is not the time to play with me,” he warns.

She settles, feeling the mattress dip underneath their combined weight. John clearly has a plan in mind as he guides her to spread her legs, a chill running up her spine as the air laps at her wet cunt. His erection presses heavy at her ass, trapped between his body and her own.

His left middle and ring finger tap at her lower lip and she opens her mouth on reflex. John doesn’t even need to tell her to suck, tongue laving over the thick digits automatically, the same way she would his cock.

“I’m not mad,” he whispers in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You tried and tried to tell me, and I didn’t take you seriously, did I?”

She can only assume that this is all rhetorical- that there’s no way he can expect an answer out of her considering she’s gagging on his fingers.

“As soon as you told me you wanted a divorce in my office, I knew what it was. You needed my attention, and I wasn’t listening. I don’t blame you. Hell, I practically forced your hand. So I’m not mad,” he reiterates.

“But you’ve got my full attention now, lovely- I can promise you that.”

She twists as much as she’s able, watching John out of the corner of her eye while still sucking; her tongue tasting the metal of his ring as it ran along the base of it.

“We,” he pulls his fingers from her mouth, grinning when she chases his hand slightly, “are going to work this out. I love you, and I have no intention of letting another man raise my children.”

It would be easy to say the arousal dripping from her is left from when John’s mouth was on her, but that would be a lie. Him taking her in hand- literally- and telling her he has no intention of letting her go is definitely doing it for her.

Wet fingers grab at her jaw and turn her head, making her melt into his hold as he kisses her. “There’s my good girl,” his voice is a rumbling timber purring in her ear.

She whines when those two fingers trace down her body- an appreciative squeeze of her breasts trailing to grope at her ass before finally slipping between her legs.

“John,” his name is a whimper against his lips as she wiggles in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he admonishes gently as he works his fingers inside of her.

Warmed by their body heat, his ring isn’t cold against her skin by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, it feels like a white hot branding iron everywhere he touches. That tonight is a reclamation as much as a reunion as he crooks his fingers inside of her.

It was easy to ignore the need that burned in her at night. She’d run herself ragged during the day chasing after children and keeping all her ducks in a row. With John gone, it was easy to shove the desire down and ignore it.

But oh now that he has her in his arms, fingers buried in her as he works her closer to her peak? She feels like she’s on fire. Greed burns at her insides, needing more. Nothing short of climbing inside of him would abate the desire roaring in her body.

Her hips cant in short motions, following the movement of his hand eagerly.

As reluctant as she is to stop kissing him, she can feel a crick in her neck starting to form from keeping her head turned for so long.

Her head lulls against his shoulder when his free hand slips under the lace of her bra and grips one nipple between his middle finger and thumb, his pointer finger teasing the hardened nub in a way he knows drives her absolutely insane.

“Oh my God,” she squeaks just a breath too loud, her hand immediately clamping over her mouth as John pinches her nipple just shy of pain in reprimand. “Not too loud,” he reminds her, mollified when she nods in acknowledgement.

He’s got her panting in need in record time, a small part of her suspicious that he’s going to stop her short of her climax again. The anxiety only serves to fuel the fire burning in her gut, giving the final push to tip her over the edge.

Apparently neither trust her ability to be quiet when her climax hits, because John’s hand abandons teasing her breast in favor of also making sure her cries are muffled. The other is soaked as she squirts, twitching and bucking in his hold.

“Need to shove your face in a pillow,” he comments dryly, a shit eating grin on his face as he takes in her blissed out expression.

He knows her inside and out; knows exactly how long she needs to recover before he’s tapping at her side and prompting her up. “Get on the bed and lay on your back.”

She complies immediately on shaky legs, standing to turn and crawling to the middle of the bed.

John is just as delicious now as he was over a decade ago, and her brain threatens to short circuit watching him crawl over top of her. There’s more grey hairs and fine lines creasing around his eyes, and her heart still thrums in her ribcage like a hummingbird.

She relaxes against the mattress, trusting entirely that John has everything handled. He positions her how he wants, settling between her legs and rubbing the tip of her cock against her wet entrance.

“Please, John, I can’t wait anymore,” she begs, feeling like she’s about to lose her mind. The edge should be taken off considering John’s rather patiently gotten her off already once, and yet if anything it just makes her more frantic. As much as each swipe of his cock against her swollen clit sends tingles of pleasure up her spine, she’s gagging for him and running out of patience.

“You are a spoiled thing,” he admonishes good naturedly like he hasn’t made a habit of indulging her every whim and desire in the past decade up to and including getting a divorce.

“We might have our problems, sweetheart, but being able to fuck you right was never one of them, was it?” John teases as he lines himself up with her. She shakes her head in agreement. If she’s being truthful, that’s partially what had stayed her hand for as long as she had. The frustration with his work being so all consuming it was like his mistress had been a slow boil for quite some time. For years John would mollify her by fucking her into submission- and she has a sinking suspicion that their youngest was an attempt to get her to let up on the subject.

His generosity in the bedroom stems from equal parts wanting to please, and the pragmatic aspect that he is not a small man, and it’s usually easier for everyone involved if he gets her off before attempting penetration.

It’s like they haven’t missed a day- it takes a few thrusts to get her body to spread for him and then all the blood on John’s body dives south for the wet, warm cunt wrapping around his cock.

“This pretty cunt’s got me like a vice, sweetheart,” he praises, leaning down to kiss her.

“I missed you so much,” she whines into the kiss. “It feels so good.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he grunts against her neck, each clap of his hips against hers earning a whine. “You divine creature- got me wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”

An entire relationship’s worth of orgasms makes it so she doesn’t begrudge him that he’s going to be a quick shot tonight. His earlier statement is correct- if there is one thing the man knows how to do, it’s fuck her within an inch of her life. He’s proven that time and time again.

If anything, given their time apart, it appeases some of her anxiety- he must not be getting any from anyone else if he’s already this close to finishing.

“Look at me,” he instructs and she complies immediately. One of his hands strokes her face while his other arm braces his weight above her. “Tell me you love me.”

Her answer is immediate. “I do! John, I love you. I love you so much!”

His hips come to a halt against hers as he grunts against her neck in pleasure. “My perfect girl,” he praises, hands stroking at her sides as he comes down from his high.

She’s so caught up in the lust of the situation that it takes a second for reality to come knocking on her door. “Shit! Pull out!” she tells him, trying to scramble out from underneath him.

“What?” In all their years, ‘pull out’ has never been one of the instructions. He complies even as his brows knit in confusion.

“I haven’t been keeping up with my birth control!” Despite John’s easy assurance that he can just stroll in and assert that they are going to work through things (and she does want to)- adding a new baby on top of their mess will not help get shit sorted out.

Once again, his unflappable attitude has its way of driving her absolutely insane. “Bit late for that, innit? You’ve already had 3 of mine, what’s one more at this point?”

“One more at this point is exactly the point!” she tries to reason.

“We did say a girl would be nice,” he reminds her.

“That was before we got a divorce!” she hisses, trying to be mindful of her volume lest she wake their children.

“That’s nothing but paperwork, pet. We can have it sorted by the time you’re due.” John can tell he’s truly gone and wound her up more than he meant with that, immediately shifting gears to try and settle her back down.

“Okay, too much. I’m sorry. Come here,” he guides her to lay down, which she does albeit with a fair amount of suspicion.

John wisely chooses not to agitate her further or do anything that could be considered pushing in his luck (like, say, pointing out that despite her protests about another baby, she’s not said a peep about the cum dripping from her).

Instead he draws her up into his arms, sticking his nose firmly in her hair.

For a long moment it’s quiet, nothing but the sound of their breathing in the late night.

It catches her off guard when the tears come unbidden. One moment she’s happily lazing in her (ex-turned-hopeful-once-more?) husband’s arms, and the next she’s sobbing uncontrollably.

They’ve been through enough that it shouldn’t embarrass her. For fuck’s sake, she’d vomited all over him during the birth of their second son. But she feels like an exposed livewire sobbing over nothing and without warning.

“What’s wrong?” John mumbles as he wakes half-way, pulling her closer to him and stroking her back to console her.

“I mucked everything up,” she chokes out, burrowing her face against his neck. “I didn’t even want this, I just didn’t know what else to do!”

He shushes her gently, petting at her in an attempt to calm her down. “I meant what I said, pet. I know things have to change, but at the end of the day it’s just papers. We’ll get everything fixed back in its proper place.”

She doesn’t remove herself from the spot on his neck she’s nestling against, but quiets down and eventually they both fall asleep once again.

When she wakes again, she feels far more level headed- although neediness eats away at her. It’s like her body is craving to make up for lost time for the months they’ve been apart.

She can’t help herself as one hand trails down the thick hair dusting his torso, pressing kisses against his neck. Even in his sleep John responds to her touch- pulls at her to be closer to him, huffing as his dick twitches in interest.

It only takes a quick lick of her palm and a few strokes to have him stiffening in her hand.

The dried spend on the inside of her thighs is enough of a reminder, even if she’s feeling affectionate this morning, that she’s going to have to figure something out for her birth control.

For the morning at least the answer to that is easy- still working her hand in slow motion up and down on his shaft she kisses a trail down his neck and working her way south.

The movement is enough to have John stirring with a sinful groan in the back of his throat.

“Well good morning, gorgeous,” he greets, voice clouding in sleep in a way that makes her just want to sit on his face.

Humming out an acknowledgement, she continues to work her way down his abdomen. She does give in to the impulse to nip at the base of his happy trail, delighting in how he sucks back away from her teeth only to push at her head immediately after.

“Bad girl,” he admonishes with no true venom in his voice “Keep those teeth to yourself, hm?” he advises with an affectionate swat to her ass.

Rather than crawling down him, she’s got herself angled perpendicular to him. All the better for him to pet her with one hand while the other encourages her to take him in her mouth.

The moan he makes as she bobs her head is sinful, and she presses her thighs together and shifts her hips to get whatever little bit of friction she can- an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by John.

“That pretty pussy of yours needs some attention, doesn’t it sweetheart?” he asks, a warm hand running down her spine and trailing across her ass until he starts to tease her.

She works with a sense of urgency, even with John taking his time playing with her. They should have another hour or so to themselves before the boys wake up, but they’re also no strangers to a mad scramble under the covers with an unplanned interruption.

“Fuck,” he bites out a curse, hips flexing underneath her. That’s all the encouragement she needs to redouble her efforts, the hand not supporting her weight wrapping around him and stroking to help get him there faster. Despite their years together she’d never quite been able to take all of him down her throat.

“Look at me,” and the eye contact is all it takes for her to feel him stiffening beneath her. “Gonna swallow for me, sweetheart? Yeah, that’s my good girl- keep those eyes on- fuck,” he grunts, his climax hitting.

She’s well versed in swallowing his seed as he cums- keeps up the suction even as his orgasm tapers off just to see how long it takes him to grab her by the hair and pry her off of him.

“Sit on my face. And don’t even think about fucking hovering,” John orders and she complies immediately. His teasing while she’d blown him leaves her a horribly needy mess- None of the pent up lust releasing yet, although anticipation has her scrambling back up the bed and straddling his face.

He pulls at her hips, locking a forearm around her like he wants to make sure she isn’t going to change her mind and start teasing him back.

And fuck does that man know exactly where to lick and suck to make her eyes roll. One of her hands gripping the headboard for dear life, the other one buries itself in John’s hair. He takes direction like a champ, following the not-so-subtle cues from her as she pulls him where she wants him.

“Please, please, please,” she babbles breathlessly as he gets her teetering over the edge, only to release his hair in favor of clamping her hand over her mouth as her orgasm washes over her.

Her legs are weak as he guides her back down before getting her on her back and kissing her until she’s breathless. As engrossing as their make out session is, neither one particularly cares that they can taste themself on the other.

Eventually the pair wear themselves out, calming down from their earlier romp and managing to get into the shower and cleaning up.

It’s only after they’ve escaped the pull of their marital bed, as the water washes the lust out of her system that the reality of the situation comes knocking again, insistent.

“I want this to work, John.” She wants to melt at the way his expression softens at her.

“I do too, sweetheart- you have no idea how much.” A sigh escapes her, already fearing that they’re back on their loop that’s been the routine for the past decade. “What’s that for, hm?” he inquires.

“I want this to work, John,” she repeats “but things have to change. I mean it.”

“ I know you do,” he assures her, reaching down to kiss her temple. “I believe you.”

She’s uncertain if her refusal to be mollified is her winding herself into a snit again, or because she’s justified in the knowledge that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.

Especially when his palm drops to hover over her belly.

“You can’t try to get me pregnant if you’re not retiring from the field, John,” she asserts. “I can handle the boys, I cannot handle a fourth baby by myself.”

And much like a kind stranger trying to lure a skittish stray dog into their car, John hums in agreement.

Retirement from the military as a whole, she knows, is far too much of an ask. John has spent his entire adult life serving and it will probably take a career ending injury to get him to agree to retire outright. However she’ll happily settle for him promoting high enough that he’s not one of the first people contacted when they need boots on the ground. She just wants her husband home. She’s paid her dues being the sweet housewife raising the kids alone while he plays hero on the other side of the world. He’s beyond capable of climbing the ranks to one that involves less clandestine missions and more paperwork, and it’s absolutely infuriating that he hasn’t.

(She knows it’s not entirely a blind devotion to country and crown and preventing acts of terrorism, and the fact that he enjoys fucking off to who-knows-where at the drop of a hat- never knowing where he’ll be 24 hours from now at any given time, and he doesn’t want to give that up yet. She tries not to think about it too hard though, otherwise she’ll melt down like chernobyl.)

The hot water runs out before John’s refractory period, which is a good thing for her sake because she’s a scatter brained mess right now. The man’s not 20 and she doesn’t begrudge him the time it takes to recuperate, but she’s swinging wildly between being sappy and sentimental and wanting back what she had, and knowing full well she needs to get a grip before she does something stupid like letting John talk her into trying for a girl.

By the time they dry off and dress there are three hungry boys who are in for quite the surprise to see their dad come morning. No doubt there had been a reasonable expectation that John would leave in the middle of the night after they went to bed.

John keeps the boys distracted and out of her hair as she gets their breakfast sorted.

Before the divorce, the pair of them would go about their separate routines; making their morning caffeinated beverages of choice, idly commenting on the latest news headline, alternating getting things sorted for their children.

Now John hovers. Like he’s not entirely certain if he wants her out of his sight. He wrangles the boys to their seats as she gets their food, but it’s like one eye is kept trained on her.

Before the divorce, her children would make their protests- high pitch peals of ew! (The youngest, she suspects, merely imitating his older brothers who get a kick out of their parents' displeased stares) if they witnessed any displays of overt affection. While of course anything where they could see was kept G rated, once the boys thought something was funny they committed to the bit entirely.

Now, while she’s distracted by John giving a chaste kiss to her temple and running his hands up and down the sides of her arm, she realizes that the boys are as silent as the grave. Three sets of owlish eyes watch them intently before comically making a big show of going back to their breakfast as they realize they’re caught.

“John,” she starts quietly, eyes watching the boys before shifting her attention back to her husba- ex-husband. “We really need to talk about this. Actually talk.” Not just fuck each other silly - she knows they’ll just slip back into old habits. They need ground rules.

She knows how her husband works. If she can wrangle him into actually agreeing with a discussion, that is workable. John’s got his quirks and idiosyncrasies that she’s learned over the years. He won’t outright lie to her, he won’t go back on his word if he commits to something. But he will push and widdle and chip away at her to keep her compliant and happy enough to get off his dick (usually by putting her on his dick. Or mouth. Or hands. Or-

Anyway.)

“We will, sweetheart. Let’s just get through breakfast, hm?”

It is so familiar and yet still so different. The boys are running a mile a minute, eagerly soaking up the additional time with their father (the guilt gnaws at her- knows this could just be a normal morning. Had she either never divorced him, or kept him firmly away. This hemming and hawing that feels inevitable can not be good for the boys).

Screentime is a bit of a hot topic, but they need the boys content and quiet long enough for them to speak without interruptions.

The eldest is a bit too old for the target demographic for Bluey, but his handheld console is enough to keep him entertained.

She can’t help but feel like her oldest boy and John are conspiring- John firmly telling him “Your mother and I need to have a little talk with no interuptions. You keep an eye on your brothers, got it?” only for the oldest to salute him with a “Yes, sir!” that has John grinning as he herds her towards his office with a hand low on her back.

The click of the door sliding shut is as loud as a gunshot.

“I know I pushed too far,” John begins. The pair of them stand in front of each other. “You kept asking for the same thing over and over again. I never thought you would actually leave, but I can’t say I was surprised when you asked for a divorce. You were trying, and I wasn’t listening. I meant what I said last night. I’m not mad.”

It…. stings. Knowing the truth the whole time- John thinking he can just wait her out. That he can lean on her despite her protests and eventually she’ll give up. But it’s a dull pain, considering it’s something she’s lived with for years. She’s well familiar with it.

“So why? Why let it get that far. I know what you do is important. I know it’s selfish to ask you to give that up, but we’ve got three kids, John. You want a fourth! It is so hard to be the one who stays with them when you leave. They don’t grasp the situation. They just know that their dad’s gone and they miss you. And I cannot breathe when you are deployed and sent off to fuck-knows-where dealing with some of the most violent, dangerous groups on the planet. What if you don’t come home? How am I supposed to raise them without you?”

Sharp words coming from the same woman who kicked John out. But it’s the same story he’s been hearing for the better part of decade ever since their first was born. He can likely recite her speech from the heart at this point.

Like always, John is steadfast in the storm no matter how far into orbit she flies. He’s well acquainted with her whims, and knows just how easy it is to rile her up and yet also knows exactly how to bring her back down.

At the moment her expression is similar to that of a wet hen’s.

“I didn’t think you’d leave.” It’s the truth and she knows it and it pisses her off. “I knew you weren’t happy with it, but overall we were happy with each other. I wasn’t cheating on you. I’m not a mean drunk. I might be absent at times but I’m not cruel. I keep you happy in bed. You want for nothing. The boys know I adore them. Every marriage has its problems. I thought we both understood that the nature of my job is ours.” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she reiterates, and she’s not sure if her voice warbles from how angry she is at the confirmation that he thought he could wait her out until he felt like retiring (or, more likely- she buries him), or at herself because she picked him and how mad can she be when he’s been honest about his work from the start.

There’s no clear cut villain. John is right. His job has weighed down on them since the beginning. In the beginning she thought she could handle it. But three children later and she’s begun to realize- far too late- that it’s so much. Subjecting them to something they never asked for because they were born into this schedule where John is beholden to Kate fucking Laswell more than his own family (peace and love to her- she’s great but she is the walking representation of everything they are struggling with in their marriage).

Her mind is a jumbling mess, like twine that’s interlocking and needing to unravel. There’s no clear cut path forward. She will go absolutely insane if things continue on the way they have been, but the time apart has shown her that she doesn’t really want to separate from John. No other man can even come close to him.

“So now what do we do?” she asks.

John steps closer to her, reaching to run his knuckles across her cheek in affection. “I want to come home, sweetheart.”

“It’s not that easy.”

She expects some sort of protest. Some sort of Yes it can be, and she’s not sure if she’s got the mental fortitude to continue holding her ground. But she knows that nothing will change if she lets up now. This is the moment where she either needs to throw in the towel, or maybe- just maybe there’s a chance.

They’ve made it this far. But she is so tired. She can’t go back but she’s got no idea what’s ahead or how long it will take to get there.

“I know. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

“It is your last one John, I swea-” She’s always hated that stupid fucking movie trope where the man shuts the woman up by kissing her. Yet here she is, her (fragile) attempt at a stern warning cut off as John snatches her up and pulls her to him.

After last night, one would think they’d gotten enough of each other to not be groping at each other like animals in heat.

Mother fucker he’s doing it again. He doesn’t fight as she pulls away, though those pretty blue eyes are blown showing where he would have been heading had she not stopped him.

“I mean it, John. You said you want this to work, but I need to see changes. You need to be home and not fucking off half away across the world at the drop of a hat. I need to be able to make plans and know that you will be here.”

“Anything, sweetheart. I just want my family back. I swear, I’m listening this time. I’ll figure it out.”

The lust has calmed from his eyes as he approaches again, making her look up at him. “You remember our little conversation from last night?”

He looks as serious as a heart attack, and there was a lot said last night.

She’s taking too long to answer, as he continues unprompted. “I know you’re not going to sign the papers overnight, and I’m fine with that. But your ring stays on, and there are no more dates with other men. You are mine. You are not single, and I expect you to act like it, hm?”

The chaste kiss to her temple is a sharp juxtaposition to the severity of his tone. He certainly doesn’t need to tell her twice.

“I promise,” she assures him, seeing how the intensity drains out of him as he’s mollified by her words. “I know I don’t have a right to ask, but did you- was there-” the words choke as she stumbles over them. She can’t be mad. She’s got no right to- they are divorced, and he (was) single and free to do as he pleases. But the idea of John drowning his sorrows in another woman’s body makes her want to claw someone’s eyes out.

And she really should have asked before he fucked her without a condom, but hindsight is 20/20.

Despite her inability to get the words together in the right order, John seems to know her question. He pulls her close to him, tucking her under his chin.

“No, sweetheart. There was never anyone else.”

The knot in her gut unwinds a little bit. “I love you, John. I’m sorry it came to this.”

“We’ll fix it, sweetheart.”

For a moment they stand there in the quiet, but there was no telling what sort of trouble their little trio might get into if left alone for too long. When John unlocks and opens the door, they both raise an eyebrow at the sight of their youngest dashing off around the corner.

Like the three little troublemakers had tried to listen through the door (which they would not be able to do- because she has tried once or twice), and the youngest was too slow to keep up with his brothers who are perched on the couch for all the world like they never left it.

The older two try to play their hand at staying cool, although the youngest boy is giggling- enjoying his “game” of teaming up with his brothers to try and pull a fast one on their parents.

“Do you have to leave?” The question from their oldest is deliberate, and succeeds in distracting them from the fact that their kids were definitely trying to eavesdrop on a conversation not meant for young ears.

“Not today,” John answers, ignoring the sharp look she shoots his way.

It’s a delicate balancing act as they stumble through picking up the broken pieces of their marriage. John can’t prove that he’s controlling his work hours unless she lets him in the house, but does give him shit about not moving in too soon. She doesn’t want him getting comfortable or complacent and back sliding on his promise.

Of course, John gets his lick back. There had been a stern conversation about condoms until her birth control is in hand.

Only to find out at her appointment that they can’t give it to her because she’s pregnant.

Mother fucker. Damn that “one shot, one kill” motherfucker. Their one slip up was the only discrepancy since they have gotten back together- that has to be when she conceived. Why did she fall in love with a sniper?

John is ecstatic with the news, as are the boys. She feels like a wet, disgruntled hen.

The new baby throws a wrench in her plans, but she can’t quite find it in her to be too disappointed once the shock wears off. John had been set on another baby, chattering on and on about how he hopes it’s a girl. They would have had another baby at some point, it’s just a bit sooner than she was anticipating.

No doubt for the boys, the new baby is an assurance that their parents aren’t staying separated. In their simplistic view, that’s as good as ink drying on paper that they’re staying together.

At her scan when it’s revealed she’s carrying boy #4, John kisses her temple and tells her how happy he is.

The youngest daughter that he’s got his sights set on is shelved for the duration of her pregnancy, not another peep of it mentioned.

A girl would have been nice, but she’s well experienced with wrangling John Price’s sons, and no doubt this one will fall into the group just fine.

John’s got quite the track record of giving her pretty babies, which everyone praises and compliments when the little man finally makes his arrival.

When he is home (which has been substantially more, she has to admit), he’s an active and involved father who’s besotted by his children and happily splits night duty with his exhausted wife. Keeps the older boys in line and behaving.

She doesn’t sign anything until John has a signed transfer request. While he’ll still be working in counter terrorism, and still be very close with the 141, his job no longer mandates he ups and leaves at the drop of a hat.

They celebrate quietly. Friends and family have made their opinions known about the back and forth tentative future of their marriage (mostly a well intended shit or get off the pot), and they elect to drop the boys with John’s parents to have a weekend for themselves.

There are no lusty slip ups and everything is followed to the letter but she wants to kill John when he grins at her positive pregnancy test.

Everything can fail, it seems. John merely commenting “Maybe this one will be a girl”, showing his hand that he hasn’t quite given up his dreams of a youngest girl to round out their gaggle of boys.

She doesn’t want to know the gender this time around, which John grouses about but ultimately accepts.

When Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley promotes to a new rank, John is the one the man calls to ask him to participate in his ceremony.

She’s still in her second trimester, not quite teetering into her third just yet. John wants to bring the kids. If the third trimester exhaustion had stuck yet, she likely could have begged to be left out and he likely would have acquiesced. And the boys usually know better than to try anything when on base with John.

The day comes and she feels like a walking stereotype of an officer’s wife- gaggle of kids clinging to her skirt, the newest baby still clinging to her, and an unmistakable pregnancy bump.

“Cookin’ another boy in there, Mrs. Price?” Soap asks good naturedly while they’re waiting.

“Not quite sure,” she answers, eyes on her three more mobile kids making sure they’re settling in and behaving. “John’s been itching for a girl since before this one came,” she gestures to their youngest in her arms.

“Well, hopefully it’a girl then for yer sake- man’s gonna give ya a football team at this rate!” the Scot laughs, chortling at his own joke. There are times when she sometimes wonders how someone as charming as Johnny Mactavish got wrangled into clandestine counter terrorism missions, but then she remembers that as much as he can charm a bird from a tree, it’s comments like that that skirt just too comfortable that yes, he’s probably got a few screws loose. (She sometimes wonders about Kyle too, who is giving Johnny a “fucking really??” look, but can’t quite pin anything. The man is perfectly mild mannered and respectable, and she knows that their work can warp someone given enough time.)

“Hopefully so,” she answers amicably. While her pregnancy has been blessedly uneventful, she’s already over it and will be perfectly happy with this being her last.

Something tells her that John is going to get his wish, one way or another though.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#captain john price #John Price x reader #john price x you #captain price smut #dub con #dark!fic #<- that is just my typical 'catch all' blocklist tag for anyone who doesn't wanna read anything dark/dubious/etc.#I am being conservative with using the tag pinky promise #my writing

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cassidyandonlycassidy · 6 months ago

Text

my pretty girl

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, protected sex, tit play, established relationship, fluffy

“you coming fishing?” jj asks pope, slapping him on the shoulder, not even waiting for an answer before he begins pulling him along.

“baby-” pope looks to you, and you quickly fix your face, a smile spreading over your features.

“go ahead.” you encourage him. “ive got some cleaning to do around the house anyways.” you shrug.

pope frowns. you should have known better than to attempt to hide your emotions from him, he sees so easily through you. “sorry, jay.” he steps out of his friends hold. “im staying home with y/n.”

jj sighs dramatically, tipping his head back. “fine!” he leaves the patio, grumbling something about all of his friends having girlfriends and leaving him behind.

“you can go, i don't mind.” you say softly as pope sits down on the sofa next to you.

“nope.” he shakes his head. “need some alone time with my pretty girl.”

you feel your cheeks heat up as he pulls you into his side, kisses being pressed against your head. despite dating for almost a year now, pope never fails to make you blush.

“i missed you.” you coo out, snuggling into his chest.

“yeah?” he smirks down at you. “even though it was literally less than 24 hours since i saw you last?”

“ugh, still too long.” you roll your eyes, even though you're happy pope got to spend some time with his friends, a boys night only at the chalet.

“so what cleaning do you have to do? i can help.”

“baby, i was just making something up so you wouldn't feel bad.” you giggle. “i mean, i do have laundry to put away but…”

“but you'd rather do something else?” pope questions.

“mhm…” you stand up slowly, hand squeezing around popes as you pull him inside, walking him towards your room.

“so this is what you meant by missing me?” pope laughs, shutting and locking the door behind you even though no one is home.

“hey.” you pout. “i missed you and i missed you.”

“aw, babygirl.” pope laughs gently, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss. you're instantly lost in his lips, not even realizing that pope had moved you further into the room until he's laying you down onto your bed.

“pope…” you whisper. “please.”

“i got you, baby.” he keeps his voice soft and soothing as he kisses you again, allowing you to focus on the kiss as his hands trail over your body, running his fingertips down your arms and cupping your waist, anything to touch you.

“will you-” you begin before suddenly feeling shy when pope looks down at you.

“will i what?” a smile spreads across his face. he loves when you ask him specifically for what you want, instead of just letting him take the lead and do whatever he pleases, having to guess what feels best for you.

“um…” you cover your face with your hands, only getting the confidence to say anything when you don't have to look pope in the eye. “play with my chest.”

you can't get the actual words out. breasts, boobs, tits, whatever you want to call them, and you have to settle for chest as it's the least embarrassing.

“hell yeah.” pope let's his excitement slip before calming himself, knowing how much his energy effects you.

popes large hands cup over your chest, rubbing at your breasts through your tank top and bra. pope kisses you again, but keeps them light so you can really pay attention to his palms rubbing against your nipples.

“can i take this off?” pope asks, hands moving down your stomach and disappearing underneath the hem of your shirt.

“yeah.” you nod, sitting up to allow him to pull the fabric away, leaving you in just a bra. pope has seen you naked many times before, but every time feels new and intimate with how gentle and caring he is.

“my pretty girl.” he coos out, warm brown eyes looking into yours.

pope reaches behind your back and unclips your bra after struggling with the clasp for a second, but he doesn't instantly pull it away.

he starts with the straps, slowly guiding them down your shoulders as his mouth follows with kisses, spreading goosebumps along your arms.

“pope.” you whimper out, a plea for more.

“mhm.” he hums, understanding what you're asking for as he pulls the cups down, revealing your already hard nipples.

he doesn't even wait to get your bra all the way off before his mouth latches onto your skin, tongue briefly flicking over your nipple before his plush lips wrap around the bud with a soft suck.

your hands come to his curly hair, scrunching it between your fingers as he plays with your chest using his mouth, switching back and forth to give each side equal attention.

“does that feel good?” he asks, a smile on his face. it's a rhetorical question, if the moans didn't tell him, then the blissed out look on your face would.

pope goes back to sucking on your nipple, one of his hands cupping your other breast, thumb swiping over your nipple as his other hand skirts down your stomach.

you feel your breath suck in before you even realize as he passes over the button on your shorts and delves right between your legs, cupping your pussy through the fabric.

“oh, god!” you squeal out. “pope!”

you can feel his smile against your chest as he rubs his fingers into you, pushing your already wet underwear against your cunt, focusing in on where he knows your clit is, having memorized your entire body from head to toe.

“i need you.” you whine. “come on, please.”

pope looks up at you, his gaze heated as his hand continues to rub against your core. “need me where?”

“need you…” you whisper out. “need you to fuck me.”

“that's my girl.” pope leans in and gives you a kiss. he always tries to encourage you when you manage to use your words.

pope moves so he's kneeling between your spread thighs. the first thing he does is rip his shirt off, and you ignore the urge to reach up and rub your hands against his defined muscles.

“my handsome boy.” you smile up at him, love so evident in your eyes, echoing the words he always says to you.

“love you.” pope knows his cock is straining against his shorts, and you are beyond desperate for him, but he still pauses to lean down and give you yet another kiss.

“love you too.” you coo back. it hasn't been all that long since you've made that declaration to each other, so the words still feel exciting every time they're said.

popes hands focus in on the zipper and buttons of your shorts, quickly undoing them to slide the jeans off your legs as he tosses them away.

you smile shyly as he begins to focus on getting himself the rest of the way undressed as you slip your underwear off and let them fall off the bed as you splay out.

“look at you.” pope coos, making sure to get the condom out of his pocket. despite you being on birth control, you're always extra cautious, way too young and responsible to get pregnant.

“come on.” you giggle, impatient, as he takes the condom and rips the foil, spreading the rubber over his length.

“kay, ready.” pope gets himself into position, holding himself up over top of you as he lines his cock up with your entrance.

you take a deep breath to relax your body as he pushes inside, making sure to go extra slow to allow you to adjust.

“f-fuck.” you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him further into you as popes hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you.

“give me a minute.” you hum, shifting your hips from side to side. pope distracts himself with kissing along your jaw and neck until you give him a nod, a signal that it's alright to move.

“feel so good baby.” pope groans out, keeping his thrusts slow and steady at first.

“mmm.” you hum out, unable to actually form words in response.

popes back arches as he ducks his head to wrap his mouth around your nipple again, sucking as his hips slowly increase in pace.

you moan out, arms pressing him closer into your chest, encouragement to continue as he pumps into you, knowing neither of you can last that long.

“so warm and wet for me baby.” pope praises you, switching to the other side of your chest as the wet squelching sound spreads over the room with every movement of his cock.

“only for you.” you smile softly, glad when pope lifts his head to press a kiss against your lips.

“love you, love you, love you.” pope says, forever the soft and sweet boyfriend that you fell so deeply for.

“cum for me.” he urges you, shifting his weight to one arm to allow his other hand to drop, rubbing circles over your clit.

“oh my god!” you squeal out, head tilting back, pressing into the pillow as his fingertips work against your bud, having figured out just what you like and what touches get you there fastest.

“fuck, can feel you clenching around me.” pope gasps, hips moving faster, fucking into you with a fury that you know means he's going to cum soon.

“i-i-” you try to warn pope, but the words dissolve into moans as your orgasm hits you, high washing over your body as your legs shake, the tightening of your pussy causing pope to cum as well, pushing his hips forward to cum as deeply inside of you as possible, even if he is sheathed with a condom.

“fuck! baby!” pope shouts out, a few final thrusts before he pulls out, collapsing against the bed next to you.

“oh my god.” you giggle, legs snapping closed to cover the mess between your thighs as your hands come to your face, hiding your bright red cheeks from pope.

“you're so cute.” pope kisses over top of your hands before standing up and heading to the bathroom to discard his condom, coming back with a warm wet washcloth.

you keep your face covered as he cleans you up, always feeling a little shy right after sex.

“hey.” pope pokes you.

you put your hands down, a soft smile on your face as he hands you your clothes to put back on. despite knowing no one will be home for many more hours, you don't like to risk getting caught by hanging around naked.

you both get dressed quickly before you wrap your arms around popes shoulders, tucking your head into his neck.

“thank you.” you whisper. “that was really, really, really, good.”

“always happy to help.” pope laughs, reaching down to pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you through the house, back towards the patio to continue relaxing.

“ah, so that's why you didn't go fishing.”

“jj!” you squeal, jumping out of popes arms.

“what? john b was busy with sarah so i came back here. y'all are loud by the way.” jj shrugs.

“dude, im going to kill you.” pope says, rushing after jj as your laughter spreads throughout the backyard, watching your boyfriend chase his friend through the grass.

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haechoxo · 4 months ago

Text

[9:58 pm]

haechan was a mess, the last encounter with you haunting his mind. no one had seen him in weeks, his self isolation driven by the humiliation and regret.

how’d he let it get this bad?

he’d ruined the one good thing he had going for him, the one thing that could've ever gone right in his life, gone.

he caused you so much pain, so much anguish, you were sick of him, quite literally. all for what? because he couldn’t admit he wanted to be yours?

it was his turn to make himself sick. walking down to the 7-Eleven for the fourth time this week to stock up on booze, he glanced out the storefront window as he waited for his transaction to complete, and spotted you, hand in hand with choi yeonjun, as you exited the bistro across the street.

it felt like a punch to the gut, a harsh reminder of what he lost. you deserved happiness, he knew that. but the thought of you finding it with someone else, while he suffered in his own misery, was almost too much to bear, he deserved this.

all haechan could do was sigh, grabbing his items and heading back to his apartment, a sort of walk of shame, as he dialed up minjeong.

“...hello? haechan? it’s almost 10 pm.” her deadpanned tone rang through the receiver.

“y-yeah… sorry,” he croaked. she was the first person to hear from him in a while, not that she of all people was worried. “just wondering if you were maybe free tomorrow, just to hang out… i guess.”

minjeong only sighed. “listen, haechan, i don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“o-oh, yeah, i guess… i guess you're right.”

“it’s not you! well– no, yeah, it is you,” ouch, “but we both know it just wouldn’t have worked out, right? you’re too focused on y/n, and we were both clearly just using each other as a distraction.” he could only listen as she went on, too afraid to say anything, to face the truth.

“the same reason you and i would never work out is the same reason mark and y/n won’t work out. we don’t have feelings for each other, haechan. it was never there.” he sucked in a breath.

“you gotta figure yourself out. we both know you can do better.” the line went dead.

haechan slumped against his front door, the weight of minjeong's words crashing down on him. the silence of his empty apartment echoed his loneliness, the low light from the streetlamp outside mocking him as he sat there. every sip of alcohol burned down his throat, but it didn’t numb the ache in his chest. the empty bottles around him were a testament to his attempts to drown out the guilt, but no amount could wash away the regret. he needed to change, to make things right, but where could he even start? he replayed your last conversation in his mind, your tear-streaked face, the hurt in your eyes. how had he been so blind?

unlocking his phone to scroll through his unopened messages, stumbling on his chats, or lack thereof, with you. they’d been dry, barren of any feelings for weeks. and it was his doing.

the unopened voicemails, mostly from jaemin about missing cafe dates and more of johnny’s parties, but there was a new one he hadn’t noticed before.

from mark.

hesitantly he pressed play, mentally bracing for the new lecture he was about to endure.

”hey man, uh— i’m not calling to apologize or anything, just so you know, i don’t feel bad for the things i said, neither does jun. i’m still really mad at you, we both are, but you're still our friend just as much as y/n is, even she’s a little worried, renjun told her not to be and i probably shouldn't have told you but whatever. the guys have been asking about you and no one really has an answer. uhm,” mark clears his throat, “jeno said he saw you outside 7-Eleven a couple nights this week already, smoking a new pack of cigarettes each time…” he sighs, pausing for a moment. haechan can feel the lump forming in his throat from the embarrassment.

“dude just because we ‘sided’ with y/n, doesn’t mean we don’t care about you and your well being anymore. obviously you feel stupid finally, and you clearly know you were wrong, but you’re going about things the wrong way, again. you can’t keep living like this, hurting the people you care about, hurting yourself, in the process.” he pauses for a bit, and haechan thinks maybe the message had ended like that, “whatever, uh, i don’t know what else i’m supposed to say bro, just let us know you’re okay, i guess, bye.” the beep signaling the end of the voicemail rings loudly against his ear, sighing shakily as he shut his phone off.

previous - next

a/n ; this one took waaaay longer than anticipated,, i just wasnt sure how well id be able to convey his feelings as well as mark’s lovely words since I HATE HIS STUPID ASS RN 💔

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rosenclaws · 2 months ago

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Hi love, I hope you’re doing well! I’ve been a fan of (stalking but let’s not talk about it) your blog for a little while, but this is the first time I’ve sent in a request for you! Your writing for Leopold is literally the sweetest ever and you’re the only writer I know of that actively writes for him, it’s so dry out here!! I was wondering if I could request something fluffy with Leopold x fem!reader where is like the most tooth-rotting fluff you can think of. I’m talking him trying to court the reader even though it’s the modern day and that’s not really a thing anymore and shes a bit confused but loves it, a super touchy reader that loves to shower Leo with her affection, literally anything. Those are just ideas, feel free to be as creative as you’d like (and don’t be shy if you wanna make it a longer fic, I’ll take what I can get). This fandom (if I can even call it that) is such a barren wasteland for fanfics and you are such an amazing writer for him and just in general!!

Much love 💕

Courting || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader

a/n: Hi!! Okay I kinda took this in a slightly different direction so if its not what you wanted then plz feel free to send in another request (ik they're closed but I will make an exception) ALSO FUCK HES SO HANDSOME IM GONNA SCREAM

wc: 1.2k

warning: reader wears lipstick

The last thing you expected was to find a neatly written letter waiting for you when you got home. Pinned neatly to the door with a small rose attached to it. You recognized Leopold's handwriting immediately, no one else you know has such beautiful penmanship.

There’s a flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you open the letter. You and Leopold have gotten very close to each other. He’s unbelievably charming and so sweet and he’s just everything. The way he looks at you, it makes you feel like the only one in the world.

Hello my love,

I am writing to ask if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner and a show this Friday night. I have found myself completely captured by your beauty, you live in my every thought. Every breath I breathe for you and every beat of my heart calls your name. I wish to court you and have the honor of calling you mine.

Your dearest Leopold

You read the letter once, and then again and again. Your fingers trace each letter. Never have you had anyone say something so precious to you before. The rose smells fresh and sweet, he must have gotten it this morning. You hurry to write him a reply, accepting his offer with great enthusiasm.

Folding the letter you press your lips the corner of the paper leaving a lipstick mark. Leopold lives just down the hall so you walk over. Just as you’re about to slip the letter under the door it swings open.

“Leo!” You squeak out as stand back up, almost knocking your head into his chest.

"Hello darling." He's dressed in casual clothes and my god you need to thank whoever introduced him to sweatpants. Anyways.

"I see you received my letter." You bite your lip as you hand over your letter. His name written as fancy as you can.

"Yeah, it was really sweet Leo." He takes the letter and you swear he blushes a little when he sees the lipstick mark. He stares at you for a while, with that perfect smile and gorgeous eyes.

"I uh, I'll see you Friday." His eyes light up at your words.

"I'll see you Friday my love." He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

You manage to keep it together as he shuts the door but once you make it back to your apartment you're melting. A giddy feeling you haven't felt in years. You have to wonder how he will attempt to court you in modern day. People don't really court anymore but all you care about is that you have a date with Leopold. Friday couldn't come fast enough.

You had never felt this nervous before. Spending way too long getting ready just to be done an hour early. It's just Leopold, you know Leopold. There's no reason to be nervous but you can't stop the tornado of worry brewing inside of you.

What if something goes wrong? Or the date goes horrible? What if he decides he doesn't like you anymore? What if this ruins your friendship. You shake your head and try to dispel any bad thoughts.

Tonight was going to be great. It has to be. There's a knock at the door and you quickly double check everything before opening it. Any worry still residing in your mind disappears. A beautiful bouquet of flowers is handed to you as Leopold is dressed to the nines. A crisp white shirt and black pants.

"They're beautiful." You say admiring the flowers. Fresh and absolutely gorgeous.

"Not as beautiful as you." Leopold says, barely at a whisper. Like he can't believe that you've even agreed to a date with him. He can't help but admire everything about you. To your smile, your beauty, your laugh, your voice. You're perfect.

You place the flowers in a vase and then the two of you are off. He rests his hand on your back as you walk through the city. His thumb draws circles in your back as you approach the restaurant. He's planned everything himself and he can't help but hope it's enough for you.

Dinner is lovely and the conversation flows without any awkwardness. You're talking to your friend Leopold but you know there's something more as you slowly get closer to each other as the night goes on. Hidden away in the corner booth you are free to get lost in each others eyes. Though you wish you could stay here all night he promised a show. Leopold loved the theater and he promised one day to take you and tonight was the night.

"How did you get such good seats?" You ask as he waits for you to sit before he does.

"I have my ways darling." You're hyper aware of just how close the two of you had gotten at dinner and how close you are now.

The show is interesting yes but Leopold was a very distracting man. Your hands inch closer together. Glancing over at Leopold you find him already looking at you. He waits for your silent approval, not wanting to cross an boundaries. So you take the leap. Intertwining your hands together.

A faint blush on his face and a big smile on yours. His hands are so warm and they fit so perfectly with your hand. When the show ends you reluctantly head back home. You don't want this night to end. Your hands swing together as you gush about the play.

"I had a wonderful night Leopold," You're leaning against your door, wanting so badly to keep the night going. His hair swoops perfectly in front of his forehead and he's got this pretty smile that you can't stop staring at.

"So did I, Thank you for accompanying me tonight." His eyes drift to your lips.

It's adorable seeing just how old school he really is. You know he's from 1876 but still. Modern boys pale in comparison to Leopold.

"You know you don't have to be so nervous Leo, I want to kiss you too." You say boldly.

He chuckles, ducking his head as bites his lip softly. He cups your face gently and you close eyes as he gently captures your lips in a kiss. He's gentle and sweet and you crave more. Still he pulls away much too soon. You pout slightly and he laughs.

"I know I'm much more traditional than you're used to." He traces your lips with his thumb. Admiring every little detail of your face.

"But someone as wonderful as you deserves to be treated with the upmost respect." He kisses your forehead gently.

"You deserve to be loved," Another kiss.

"To be cherished," Another.

"And to be worshiped." Words fail you completely. Leopold has rendered you utterly speechless.

"Did I overstep?" He asks, worried about you silence.

You shake your head. practically jumping into him as you kiss him. Passionately running your hands through his hair. He groans slightly as you tug on his hair. He pushes you against the wall, bracing your head with his hand as he kisses back.

"I'm falling in love with you." He whispers. A hopeful glint in his eyes.

"I'm already in love with you." You admit.

You become lost in his lips as he kisses you again. He just can't get enough. You blindly reach for the door handle and without argument pull him inside of your apartment.

Soft kisses and laughter are shared quietly between the two of you. Time ticks by but you have lost all sense of care in the world. All that matters to you is this moment. Your fairytale come to life. And it was just perfect.

#hugh jackman x reader #kate and leopold #leopold mountbatten #leopold mountbatten x reader

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ln4bub · 9 months ago

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39. we’re not just friends and you know it with max x teammate!best friend! reader. please and thank you!

A/N time for some Max appreciation besties <3

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

Max was starting to think he was the most readable person on earth, with every single member of the paddock seemingly pointing out how obvious his crush on you was.

"Dude, your eyes are literally always on them." Daniel laughs, nudging Max with his elbow as they walk. Max feels a blush rise to his cheeks, "Are they? I haven't noticed." He mutters, his eyes glued to your figure as you talk to GP in the Red Bull garage. Daniel shakes his head, following Max's eye line to meet the shape of you, now waving at your best friend. Max breaks out in a large grin, waving back at you before speeding up to join you sooner.

"He's so obvious." Charles says, rolling his eyes at his childhood rival. "We need to get involved." Daniel states, "Let him know that we all know, and to make a goddamn move already before someone else does." Charles nods in agreement, "I'll let Carlos know the plan."

Daniel smiles, "Perfect, he'll tell Lando and then Lando will tell everyone."

"I'll tell everyone what?" Lando asks, appearing from nowhere. "That Max is in love with Y/N." Charles explains, watching Max interact with you. "Oh been there, done that. I told everyone like two weeks ago, catch up guys." Lando explains, leaving the two smirking that their plan was apparently already in action.

It's a week later when Lando brings the subject up to Max. They're out playing padel, and you're sat on a bench with a book, soaking up the sun and attempting to ignore the yells of Lando and Alex. Lando and Max are stood by the net, casually chatting whilst George and Alex get some water. "So, do you like Y/N or something?" He asks, head tilted at Max as he fumbles his words trying to respond.

"Why would you think that? Me and Y/N? What? How could you think that?" He blurts, hand scratching the back of his neck as he avoids eye contact with Lando, eyes glancing over to you to make sure you're not listening. "You keep staring at her like you're in love with her man, all heart-eyes and gross." Lando explains, causing Max to scoff out a nervous laugh as George and Alex rejoin them.

"Are you talking about Y/N?" Alex asks, smiling when Max gets impossibly more flustered. "So you can all tell then?" Max asks, nervousness overtaking his tone. "Yes, you look at her like she created the universe," George says, "And also you look like you want to kill us whenever we speak to her." He concludes, eyebrows raising at Max in an accusatory manner.

"I need to tell her don't I?" He asks, a resounding yes coming from the group.

The thought of telling you how he felt was eating Max up inside, making him cold and distant towards you. Every weekend you could be you were in the Red Bull garage, a large 33 sprawled across your back as you cheered him on. Max barely acknowledge you during these weekends, instead insisting that he's not happy with the performance of the car and needs to focus on being faster. You roll your eyes, "Sure, you've won 8 races in a row but you need the car to be faster. I'm not stupid Max." You tell him before leaving the paddock without him and heading back to the hotel.

Max sits in the garage glumly after you leave, cowering away from the disappointed head shakes that Daniel sends his way after he sees you leave. He doesn't register anything until he finds himself outside your hotel door, hand raised ready to knock. Before he can make contact with the wood of the door it swings open, revealing his very mad best friend, you.

"I know you're mad at me, please let me in and I can explain." Max grovels, eyes wide with sadness as he pleads for you to humour him. You say nothing, stepping aside and letting him walk in, his shoulders visibly relaxing at your kindness. You sit on the edge of your hotel bed, watching as Max paces the room. You want to stand and help him, bury yourself in his chest until he calms down but you need him to explain himself.

"Did I do something?" You ask quietly, Max halting in his movements. "No, no Y/n you could never do anything." He says, standing in front of you. His hand rests under your chin, tilting your head towards him. He stares down at you, an unrecognisable glint in his eye.

"Then why have you been so distant with me Max? I just- I can't do this." You explain, eyebrows crinkling in worry. "Do what?" He asks, thumb swiping gently back and forth against your chin as he forces you to look at him. "I can't lose my best friend." Max's eyes close at your words, jaw clenching. "That word." He murmurs, frustration seeping into his tone, "I hate that word."

"What word? Lose?" You ask, confusion growing by the minute. Max takes a deep breath, "Friend." He tells you, your heart dropping at his words.

"We're not just friends, and you know it." He explains, "You know that you are the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my support system. Yes, you are my best friend, of course you are. I could never picture my life without you by my side, but that's not because you're my best friend. It's because I'm in love with you."

Your eyes widen at his words, smile creeping over your lips. "I knew telling Lando would work." You laugh, "He can't keep his mouth shut." Max looks at you in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I told Lando how much I liked you, how much I loved you, and he told me to leave to him, clearly whatever he did worked." You smile, watching as Max mirrors the same smile. "You're lucky I love you, je nachtmerrie." You giggle at his words, "Say it again." You request, voice dropping to a whisper as Max leans in.

"I love you schatje."

His pillowy lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, your stomach churning with pleasure as you slip your hand behind his neck. He follows your lead, deepening the kiss and swirling his tongue with your own. You surrender yourself to him, allowing his tongue to dominate your own as he leans toward you. He breaks his lips from yours before attaching them to your neck, sucking and biting as he explores your body.

You feel the vibrations of his soft groans against your skin, relishing in the fact that he can finally touch you the way he's always wanted. "Been waiting so long for this dropje, can I do everything I've been thinking of?" He asks, kneeling down in front of you as his hands slide under your hoodie. You nod, smiling at your best friend as he lifts your hoodie. He licks his lip, trapping at between his teeth with a muted groan as he sees the lack of bra underneath your clothes.

"So pretty, my god." He mutters, lips meeting the soft skin in between your breasts before traveling over the mounds. His large hands encompass your chest, kneading and squeezing your tits as his tongue swirls around your nipples. You whimper at the feeling, expressing your pleasure with a hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to continue. Your nipples are hard from a combination of his tongue and the cool air circulating the room, your back arching at the tingly pleasure shooting down your spine.

His lips trail down your stomach, leaving a wet line cooled by the breeze, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Max's fingers edge into the band of your shorts, tugging them down. He groans at the lack of underwear there too, evidence that you had showered when you got back from the track. Max places kisses on your inner thighs, smirking when your muscles clench at the feeling of his lips. He admires the way your pussy glistens under the light of your lamp, the sheen of wetness making his mouth water.

He licks his lips before hovering closer to your core, the tickle of his breath causing your walls to clench around nothing. Max groans at the movement, "Are you desperate schatje?" You whine at his question, bucking your hips toward his face.

"Please Max, need you."

He smirks at your whiny tone before flattening his tongue against your pussy, using the muscle to split open your folds. He moans against you at the taste, his tongue swirling around your clit. You watch as he pulls his face away, a string of your juices connecting his lips to you. His eyes have darkened beyond recognition, lust clouding his senses. Max dives back in, tongue flicking and sucking every inch that it can reach.

He pays attention to what makes you moan louder, what makes your walls clench and your thighs tighten around his head. He's certain that he could die a happy man between your legs, drowning in the sweet juices that coat his tongue. He seals his lips around your clit, sloppily slurping and sucking as you squirm above him. The tip of his finger swirls around your wetness, soaked now in both arousal and spit just like Max's chin.

He feels the way your pussy jumps at his touch, slipping his finger in gently, curling it up against your g-spot. The moan you let out his heaven to Max's ears, his cock throbbing in his jeans as he seeks friction for the ache.

"Fuck Max, you're gonna make me cum." You whine, hand raking through Max's hair as you pray he never stops. He groans louder at the force of your hand against his head, doubling his efforts until all that can be heard in the room are your moans and the wet sounds of his tongue between your legs. He flicks his tongue as fast as he can, ignoring the burn in his jaw and the need to breathe as he gets smothered by your thighs. He's rewarded when your orgasm hits, flooding his tongue with the taste of you as your hips flinch in sensitivity.

Max stands from the bed, quickly ridding himself of his clothes. In your hazy state you still manage to admire him, the thickness of his thighs, the bulging muscles in his arms, his toned stomach. But it's the soft smile on his face that you can't help but reciprocate that sends butterflies floating in your tummy and a shiver down your spine.

He clambers back onto the bed, leaning on his elbows above you. Max's lips slot against your own, the faint taste of your cum making its way into your mouth with every swirl of his tongue. Your soft hand wraps around the base of his cock, slowly sliding up before swiping your thumb over the weeping tip. You bring your thumb up to your mouth, sucking it into your mouth and relishing in the salty taste of his precum.

Max's eyes widen at the sight, practically whimpering at the realisation his biggest wet dream is coming true. "You're amazing," he utters, voice thick with desire. "Please tell me I can fuck you schatje, I need to feel you." You barely grace him with a verbal answer, grasping his cock and guiding him towards your entrance.

He thrusts himself forward, his thick tip stretching your walls. Your back arches at the mixture of pleasure and pain, eyes fluttering shut. Max's head drops down to your shoulder, body shuddering with a groan as he feels the warmth of your pussy.

"I've wanted this for so long, dreamt of it so many times," He whispers against your skin, sucking a purple mark as he bottoms out. Your walls encase him like a vice, his eyes practically rolling with every slow grind of his cock into your pussy. Your legs wrap around his hips, encouraging his deep strokes, nails scratching against his muscular shoulders.

You're surrounded by Max, his scent clings to you as he fills you up, feeling him in the depths of your stomach with each thrust. You slip your hand between the two of you, rubbing against your swollen clit as the wet noises of your pussy echo through the room. Max frowns at the feeling of your hand bumping his stomach.

He leans back from his position crouched over the top of you, knocking your hand from your pussy and making you whine. "Max please." You beg, desperate to cum one more time.

"I know, I know, but you have me know you don't need to do that." He explains, splaying his large hand across your stomach, his thumb dipping down to swipe against your clit. His rhythm increases, thrusting harder and faster into you, your arousal spilling out around his cock. "Cum for me schatje come on, not gonna stop until you do." Max mutters, hitting that spot inside you with every drag of his hips.

Your jaw drops and your eyes roll as your orgasm washes over your body, goosebumps covering your skin in its wake. Max barely lasts long enough to prolong your orgasm before he pulls out, stroking his cock until white ropes of cum splash over your stomach. He groans with each pulse, his arm dropping as he struggles to hold himself up.

He slips off the bed, returning with a towel from the bathroom to clean you up. He sidles up next to you, bundling you up in his arms, encasing you in his warmth.

"I love you, always have." He whispers, assuming your deep breaths as a sign of sleep, a smile gracing his face as you cuddle deeper into him.

Thanks for the help, is the text Lando receives before Max goes to sleep

No problem, heard it went well for you, is the reply Max sees when he wakes up.

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maralarsen · 8 months ago

Text

Does he love me? >⁠.⁠<🎀

~Theodore Nott x reader~

WARNING: cursing

Fluff/Little angst

° | friends to lovers| °

° |Summary: Theo starts to be too nice and the reader wants to solve it

° | I'm starting to feel that my stories are boring even though I've only written 3 of them and one of them is supposed to have a sequel

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Who ever thought that the important books would be the highest," I jumped to grab the book on the elixir, but of course like the two attempts before and now I missed. "Sh*t!" I sinned, "pretty girls shouldn't swear."

I turned at the sound of a rather familiar voice. "Theo stop kidding and help me," why am I jumping for a book when he just reaches out and has it right away.

"Try to ask," he said with a smirk.

"I can see how much you enjoy watching me struggle with my height, Mr. Supreme!" but he just smiled and sat down on the nearest chair. He probably won't really help me if I don't ask.

Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not one of "his girls" who will ask him for something. I've known Theo long enough to not be naive that he likes me even though I had him. It's too much to say that I she could admit that at all.

But I'm not going to ask him for one stupid book.

CHAIR.

God, why didn't I think of that sooner. I walked over to the chair that was next to him, on which he was sitting, and moved it to the bookshelf.

"Why don't you just use a wand?" he asked me. "Because I probably forgot it?!" I reached for the book and took it in my hand, "ha, finally!" I raised my hands in the air as a sign of victory and I jumped from my chair to push her to her place.

"What are you planning for the evening?" I turned to face him, "I definitely don't intend to sleep under the image of God." I answered his question truthfully.

I wasn't the type to go to a party and then go to sleep and wake up in someone else's bed in the morning.

"Too bad, I thought you would come today," I raised an eyebrow at him, "and why?" he smiled at me and got up from his chair and slowly walked towards me.

He brushed a stray strand of my (c/h) hair out of my face and tucked it into place, behind my ear. "I don't even know myself, I had a feeling that you would say yes this time," I looked at him in disbelief, I was shocked by his actions.

There was always a friendly atmosphere between us and none of us ever crossed it. Why he suddenly behaves like that is strange to me.

"But as you can see I said no," I pulled away from him and left the library with the book in my hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later:

Interactions with Theo became more and more frequent.

Touching hands more often while walking. Hugging more often when saying goodbye. More frequent peeking during class. And more often compliments.

It didn't bother me because one side of me screamed after every touch of his, but the other warned me against this and shouted to be careful.

But as it usually happens with a teenage girl in love, the first page won me over. I longed for his touch, for his caress, for every compliment. He was literally making me a desperate pile of misery. Well, I didn't show anything on the outside. At least I tried, I don't know if it really worked.

I wanted to talk to him about this. Because all he gave me was a sweep. I didn't know what to expect from him. Is he serious or just kidding?

This is how I ended up in Pansy's room. "Pansy please give me some advice," I begged her with desperation in my voice. "I think you should go see him…ouch!" she tried to give me advice while doing her makeup for today's Slytherin party.

Unfortunately, this combination ended with a pencil sticking into her eye. "Are you okay?" "Ow. Hey, I just pricked myself, shit." she put the pencil down and sat on the bed next to me. "Listen, go after him," "but what if he..." I started playing with the laces on my sweatshirt.

"No problem! F*ck you woman, you're only young once, so f*ck him if you love him. And also everything points to the fact that he loves you too!" I looked at her.

"But what if I don't love him, what if it's just an infatuation that we'll regret later?!" I threw up my hands. That's what I was most afraid of, that it was just an infatuation, nothing more than a little romance. And I will hurt him and our friendship.

“Listen, (y/n/n)! If you didn't love him and it was just a romance, just an infatuation, you wouldn't be despairing over it now. You wouldn't care. And something tells me he feels the same way. At this time she's always on the astronomical tower smoking." I smiled at her and hugged her.

"Why did I deserve you Pans, thank you!" she grabbed my hands and said: "You'll thank me later now run," definitely I didn't hesitate any longer and ran to the door.

I literally ran through the corridors to get to the astronomical tower as soon as possible and catch him there. When I finally got there, I stopped in front of the stairs. What if he rejects me...NO! Enough of the doubt it's now or never!

I confidently walked up the stairs. I saw him leaning against a pillar smoking. My self-confidence left me the moment he noticed me and put out his cigarette. "What are you doing here?" he asked me. "Theo, we need to talk!" he raised his eyebrows "Did I do something?" Yes you did! I walked closer to him "Damn you realize what you're doing to me. The unexpected affection. Why Theodore, why now. If you just want me in bed then do it right now stop. Because you won't get me there even though I love you so much that I'm afraid to admit it to myself. God, you can't even imagine how much I was bothered by all those girls clinging to you and..." it was so fast that I didn't even have time to react .

One moment he was leaning against a pillar the next his lips were on mine. It was a kiss worth a million unheard words. A kiss that confirmed mutual affection.

He pulled away first with his right hand on my waist and his left on my face. When did he manage to put them there? "F*ck! You don't even realize how long I wanted to kiss you. Feel your lips on mine. I love you. And I'm finally not afraid to admit it. I've loved you since the day I saw you for the first time, even though as an 11-year-old I didn't even realize it and didn't know what love was. Hence all the affection. That's why now. Because when I saw you in that library. That's when I realized that I don't want anyone but you. Only you and your personality." when he spoke, I couldn't believe his words. I had never seen so many emotions in his eyes in my life.

"Theo I don't know what to say," I dreamily looked into his stormy blue eyes.

"Don't say anything just love me. Love me like your life depends on it because I already do," he loves me.

Theodore Nott loves me! Me!

Now I wanted only one thing: "Kiss me." Please!" I begged him. "Are you seriously begging? You (y/n) (y/l)?" "Yes please. And now please do it!" He smirked and his lips met mine, but now with more softness than if they were made of glass and he has to take care of them and protect them so they don't break.

I kissed him back and my hands tangled in his hair and they pulled him closer. He pushed me against the wall in return. I finally felt complete as if I had always belonged in his arms.

I pulled away from his hungry mouth "I love you! Theodore Nott," "I love you too (y /n) (y/l). More than you can imagine," I smiled at him and pressed my forehead to his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for the mistakes

• If you have any requests for a story, write to me ☺️

#theodore nott #slytherin boys #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fandom #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #english is not my first language

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charbies · 23 days ago

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linktober 31 - HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

I thought for the last day I'd write a little retrospective on what this whole thing was like and what I learned. I'm too tired to draw literally anything else I'm due for a break lol

So this was my second time ever attempting a linktober/october drawing challenge, but my first time managing to complete all the days and prompts. I feel super proud of myself and accomplished for pulling it off.

There were a number of things that were surprising and that were challenging for me that I wasn't expecting this month. If anything, I think this challenge really highlighted my flaws and mental blindspots with how I approach making art.

For one thing, I came away from this not liking everything I made. I think I only like about 9 or 10 of the 30 pieces I put out there. When I don't like my art, I tend to get stuck in this mental stalemate of refusing to finish a piece until I like it, but also refusing to retrace my steps and erase/rework what I have so far for fear of losing progress or not being able to replicate the line/angle/color/etc that I liked.

It was surprisingly hard to accept when I didn't like a piece but had to move on for the sake of time and post it anyway. But once I did it a few times, it got easier. I realized prioritizing my standards over my available energy is not gonna promote progress. If I kept sinking myself into one piece and not moving on until it was optimal, I never would have finished anything-- that was the pitfall that ultimately made me bail out 10 days in last year.

I also realized my sunk cost fallacy/"what if I erase this and can never redraw it good again" stems from some real lack of confidence in my knowledge and techniques with art. I'm self-taught, and I think I tend to believe that everything I make is a dumb happy accident, even though I have mental rules when I draw, use tons of references, and have a process lol. There are a few pieces I started over 2-3 times before I got them right, and that's starting to feel liberating instead of like failing to me now, which I never expected to come out of this experience so that's cool.

Another place I had to learn to let go of control in this was with allowing for style variation. I really wanted each and every piece to be coherent and painterly, like they all came from the same book or something. But then I couldn't decide whether I wanted to do all/no lineart, all/no detailed background, all/no heavy rendering, etc. At the end I settled on just keeping the same canvas dimensions and just prioritizing filling up the space. Glad I ended up doing this, because I really would benefit from continuing to chill out and scale back how much I default to making dramatic, high-render pieces. I gotta break out of my comfort zone and make more sketchy little guys!

Sometimes my attachment to the prompts fluctuated; some prompts I thought I would love and then just wanted to get them over with. Some prompts I thought I would hate and subsequently half-ass, then I ended up redoing them and putting more effort & time into and loved the end result!

It was funny to also see how some pieces that I loved straight up did not get a whole lot of notes or attention. Some pieces I was "meh" about did crazy numbers lol. I'm used to posting maybe 5-6 times a year on here, so I'm usually indifferent to getting notes (by which I mean, I'm super grateful for likes & reblogs and the super sweet & funny messages in y'alls tags, but I'm not butthurt when I don't get notes because whatever happens, happens). Churning out 30 pieces in 30 days made me sometimes get bewildered by what did and didn't get notes, but frankly in the end I think it helps reaffirm that I should continue putting whatever I want out there because it! is! not! graded!!!

So would I do Linktober again? Probably not, sorry! it was a lot of time & effort and took me away from fall festivities more than I would have liked. I kinda only managed to pull this off because I was transitioning between jobs this month and had a week off to just draw. But I also completely see the value in taking on a challenge like this and finishing what I started, I'm super glad I did this, I think my art improved from it. I would definitely do future drawing challenges/prompt things that are quicker or have less prompts!

My advice to prospective future linktoberers: pace yourself and be gentle; this is a great chance to do something exciting and new with your art, but above all it's about you having fun. There are no prizes at the end except for what you've learned and how you feel about it, and that's for the best!!

One thing's for sure, I am zelda'd out lmao so I'll be branching out towards some little projects I have lined up for personal art and other fandoms I'm into right now

So anyway thanks to all of you who read this or who gassed me up this whole month, I appreciate you!!!!!!!! ヾ(＾∇＾)

#time to go to bed lol #linktober #linktober 2024 #my art #charbies art tag

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wheresmymilliondollarman · 2 years ago

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pls ANYTHING with Aaron Warner. I'm literally living for him and I love your writing.

never go out of style

aaron warner x fem! reader

after a bit of convincing, you decide to let aaron join you and juliette shopping. maybe you should've thought twice on that.

(no specific timeline, but kind of hinted towards after the series ends)

a/n: dw bff i understand ur obsession 🫶ik you guys are waiting for pt 2 of my other aaron work but i'm having some issues with it so i wanted to whip up a quick lil fic for you guys and it also helps with my writing blocks. also in this they all kinda of live together in a base like location still. shorter than my other stuff but hope you enjoy and tysm for supporting my work !!! again i envision hayden as aaron but fancast who u like !!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: clingy aaron, suggestive content, aaron and juliette banter, some grammar errors probably

the sun peaked from the window of your room, shining a light directly toward where you slept peacefully on the bed.

your peace was disrupted by a loud ringing sound coming from your clock on the night stand.

you groaned as you began regaining consciousness from your deep slumber. with your still bleary vision you glanced at the clock, 9 am. you rubbed your eyes and let out a yawn, knowing it was time to get up for the day.

you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, only to be brought back down by a strong arm next to you – face pulled forward into a broad bare chest. for a moment you’d forgotten about your sleeping boyfriend next to you.

“mm, no.” mumbles the man next to you. to make his point cleaer, he slid you closer and nuzzled his face into your neck and naked shoulder comfortably.

both you and aaron rarely ever slept with shirts on. it wasn’t always due to inherently sexual reasons, more-so it’s for aaron’s sake because he’d always make a huge fuss about the fabrics getting in the way of your skins touching directly. aaron is a huge fan of touch, well only your touch. anyone else’s he’d be disgusted by.

much to your bewilderment, he originally wanted to the both of you to slumber bare. much protest came from you for various reasons, including in the case of an emergency everyone needed to evacuate swiftly, the two of you could potentially land in a horribly embarrassing situation.

so, you both settled for a tops off only kind of deal. you were lucky he even let you sleep with your bra on. although, when he was needy or wanted to be a cheeky bastard, he’d take it off in your sleep.

“aaron…” you said in a knowing tone. he was like this almost every morning where you attempted to get out of bed with him. it was really cute, but also really annoying when you had to be somewhere, like right now.

“sorry can’t hear you, very tired. maybe try again in an hour or two.” aaron was very obviously not asleep; but he’s avoiding your pleas of freedom.

you rolled your eyes at his behavior. you couldn’t wait any longer or you’d be late to meet with juliette. so you begun to try and push a hand against aaron’s chest to free yourself of his cuddle prison.

aaron in reaction only squeezed you impossibly tighter. you weren’t weak in strength in any means, but if it’s a competition between you and him; he’ll win everytime.

“c’mon baby, i got places to go.” you tried to coo him into releasing you with a pet name. aaron absolutely loved when you used pet names for him.

“shhh… teddy bears don’t speak.” aaron responds, and puts a finger over your lips for emphasis. man, he was really stubborn this morning.

with the way you are being held hostage, you thought being called a teddy bear wasn’t far off.

that leaves you to your last resort — puppy dog eyes.

you look up at aaron and give him your best pleading eyes, “you know i’d love nothing more than to just stay in bed with you, but please aaron, i really do have to leave.” you plant a quick peck on his lips for extra effect.

aarons eyes soften, you could see he was almost cracking and close into relinquishing his hold on you. so close.

but then the tables turn, he gives you a sad look before saying, “you’re always gone these days doing something with juliette or kenji, is it so bad that i just wish to spend some time with you even if it’s just sleeping in our bed.”

crap, he did a reserve and now pulled puppy dog eyes on you. and worst part is it was working, especially with the sad little voice he was giving.

although, his statement wasn’t all that true, you spend more than enough time with aaron, and barely enough with your friends. but of course in his dramatic mind, any few hours that aren’t spent together felt like a week to him. but you doubt you could even properly compute this argument back to aaron, not while he was looking at you like an injured animal.

juliette was going to kill you for your next words, “how about you come along with me today then.”

aaron face changes tune immediately — a big grin makes it way onto his face. he pulls your face to his and plants various pecks all over your face, making you giggle at his excitement.

it was really hard for you to deny warner at times, he could be really convincing. or maybe you were just easily susceptible to his puppy dog antics.

“well, what are you waiting for, let’s get ready.”

aaron finally releases you and moves to get up from the bed. not even giving you a moment to stretch, he goes on to your side of the mattress and in one movement scoops you you in his arms and walks in the direction to the bathroom.

aaron made quick work of putting you on the counter and getting the water facet to the shower head turned on. he was obviously very eager to join you on whatever you and juliette were going to do.

the two of you showered together. aaron being the clingy man he is, loves when you bith shower together. he likes to wash and scrub your hair for you, lathering it in soap and shampoo. you admit that’s your favorite part because it tends to feel like a nice head massage.

however, showering together can be inconvenient at times because you are sometimes in a rush or just rather be alone. but then he gives you a sad face and you feel bad. even when you try to do it alone while he’s busy, he will manage to worm his way into your space.

aaron helped dry you both off and, ever the fashionista he is, even picked out an outfit for you to wear. he has a habit of doing that, and you can’t deny the pieces he chooses are fabulous.

if you both happen to subtly match, like right now, he’ll claim it was a coincidence — which you do not believe there is any coincidence with that man.

you left to meet up with juliette while aaron finished getting ready, so you could tell her the slight change in your plans for the day.

juliette was longing on her phone in the common place when you saw her. once she noticed you she git up and approached you.

“hey, you ready to go?” julietted asked you as she got her purse from the place she was sitting before.

you chuckled nervously, “uh, you see, about that-“

“so where are we headed off to?” a voice intercepted, wrapping an arm around your shoulder .

your boyfriend had perfect timing as usual.

juliette didn’t let the ‘we’ go unnoticed.

she furrowed her brows, “im, sorry did you just say we?” giving you a quick glance in confirmation.

“oh, y/n didnt tell you i was joining you ladies on whatever it is your doing?” aaron questioned with fame in innocence laced in his voice.

the smug jerk definitely knew you hadn’t got to that yet.

juliette turned her gaze toward you, making a discontented face, “no. it seems she hadn’t informed me of this.”

you winced and gave her a sheepish shrug, trying to say ‘sorry i’m taking my boyfriend along and im springing it up on you right now cus he didn’t even give me a chance to tell you.’

juliette rolled her eyes, "does he even know what we're doing?" she raised a brow in a questioning manner.

aaron once again decided to butt in, looking down in your direction, "yeah, i'd also like to know what it is the three of us are out to do today." putting extra emphasis on the three, likely to annoy juliette further.

oh god. it just dawned on you what juliette and yourself had planned to do today. you realized how much a catastrophe this was a bout to be.

you glanced at juliette, who you deemed also had come to this conclusion.

you turned to face aaron, "we're going shopping."

an hour later.

"nope. absolutely not, change."

you rolled your eyes, you were so close to strangling the beautiful man that was aaron warner. if he spewed out one more opinion on your fashion choices, you were gonna lose your mind.

just as you expected. disaster. you really should've known better than to bring bring along your very honest boyfriend who happens to be obsessed with fashion himself.

in theory, it sounded cute, trying on clothes and showing your best friend and boyfriend all the cute outfits. the avergae boyfriend would say you look great in anything, making you all giddy and happy.

but you didn't have the average boyfriend, you had aaron warner.

to his credit, he had behaved himself on the car ride over (only after stubbornly refusing to drive anything that wasn't his BMW.) he even kept his comments to himself when you entered the store.

the moment you picked up an item of clothing, it was as if the crack in the dam of his mind had finally broken. he started spewing every possible critique that he thought of.

"no, that color will wash you out."

"it's cute you think i'll let you go out like that."

"put that horrendous looking shirt down down and walk away."

"im saying this as a loving boyfriend, are you blind, or do you actually think that's wearable."

juliette was in no way spared from his fashion "advice."

"i'm shooting myself if you pick up another pair of denim blue-jeans."

"i hope your horrible sense of fashion isn't contagious."

both you and juliette ignored him to an extent, she occasionally snarkily replied and then picked something he would hate purposely. aaron eventually gave up on as he put "salvaging the one good percent of juliette's closet" and focused all his attention toward you, much to your misfortune.

you loved aaron's sense of fashion, you really did, but you didn't find it very enjoyable everytime you picked up an item you thought was cute, just for him to snatch it from your grasp

another thing, when it was time to try on your items - aaron refused to wait outside the dressing room, he was very persistent on getting in the dressing rooms with yo he even told the worked in charge of the fitting rooms 'it was nothing he hadn't seen before.'

you gave him smack on the arm for that suggestive remark.

so, now the two of you were cramped into a small dressing room, not that aaron minded - the closer the two of you were, the better.

you did enjoy how he doted on you - zipping up your dressing, helping you put on and remove clothes, planting a small kiss on the top of your shoulder whenever you were dressed.

he would sit down on the small chair in the dressing room and take in your attire, "now give me a little twirl." he teasingly commanded manner.

you shook your head with a grin, then spun around in the flowy fabric of the light pink sundress you were trying on, adorned with small flower embrodiery - it was an "aaron approved" dress on the rack of course.

when you met with his eyes again, he looked as if he were in a trance, hypnotized by your entire being. he was enticed by the clothing that draped you, examining it thoroughly. your face flamed up under his loving gaze.

"well, what do you think?" you asked a bit anxiously, since he hadn't uttered a word since the clothing was put on you.

it was ridiculous to be nervous about your boyfriend's approval, but alas, you couldn't help it when the boyfriend in question is aaron warner.

he was brought back by your soft voice and stared up to you, putting a hand on your hip - bringing you closer to him.

"i think..." he paused, standing up from the small cushion, and cupping your face with his hands, "we should buy it in every color they have."

aaron then started sloppily covering your face in kisses, each one after the next. you attempt to weakly push him away, not putting much force into it.

"aaron you're going to smudge my makeup!" you cooly scolded.

aaron looks down to you, leaning his face closer to yours, "my love, if i always cared about smudging your makeup, i'd never be able to kiss you." he replies smoothly.

little moments like this truly made all of the mayhem of the day worth it. mostly.

"now, love, hurry up and try the next one on. i chose that one myself."

"but juliette hasn't even seen this one yet." you brought up your best friend, who was trying on her on choices a few doors down.

"who cares what juliette's opinion is, her fashion taste is a worn out t-shirt and jeans." aaron sassily retorted.

"i heard that you asshole!" juliette bellowed over to aaron from the inside of her dressing room.

aaron remains unfazed by her disruption, "ignore her, put on the next one."

you give aaron a glare at his behavior to juliette, but comply go to the door in your room to get the piece he keeps referring to.

you gape at the fabric hung before you, doing a double-take to ensure you had seen it correctly. oh you're boyfriend was sly.

you hold the clothing in your hand and turn to face him, "aaron, this is lingerie."

he smirks, "i suppose it is."

heat was beginning to rise from your neck to your cheeks, you played it off with a scoff, "i'm not changing into this unless you turn around."

aaron gives you a disapproving look, as if to say 'seriously?' - "nothing i haven't seen before."

"just turn!" you scolded at him.

"alright love, no need to get so feisty." he teased then finally turn his back to you. you hated when he teased you terribly. you almost gave him a smack on his back for that, but decided against it.

you started removing the clothing on your body, reminding yourself to show juliette the dress later. you grabbed the lingerie aaron picked, it was green colored lace two piece set - the top had lace on the cups, a corset like style for the waist with 3 light green ribbons going down, and a mesh fabric with lace trimming the edges draped from the bottom of your rib area and covered your butt almost fully. the underwear was a simple lace thong the same color as the top.

it was beautiful, and you shouldn't have expected any less since your loving fashion expert boyfriend chose it.

once the lingerie was on, you looked at yourself in the long vertical mirror placed in the center of the room.

you admit you thought you look pretty good in the set. you had a few nightwear pieces, but those looked plain in comparison to the on you had on.

your noticed aaron's back in the mirror and suddenly remembered he was waiting for you to put on the lingerie.

your smooths down the top with your hands, then turned to aaron's direction, "ok, you can turn around now."

aaron mutter a small 'finally' before twisting to see you. the first thing he did was stare at you, his jaw slacking and eyes widening.

he was silent for so long, you started to get insecure if he thought it looked bad on you. you nervously laugh, "do you like it or-"

the question went unfinished because in an instant aaron took one large step towards you, pushed you against the mirror and passionately kissed you. you were thrown so off guard, you stumbled with your feet, stabilizing yourself by placing you hands on aaron's shoulders.

aaron's hands started wandering down your body, leaving goosebumps on your skin. aaron's lips were almost devouring yourself, kissing you with need and eagerness.

you were the first to pull away for air with a grin, aaron's lips followed yours, not ready to end the kiss. you had to gently put a hand on the side of his face to pull him back enough to let you breathe.

the haze that was clouding you for a moment cleared - reminding yourself you still were in the dressing room.

the first thing you did was laugh, then ask, "so i'm gonna assume you like it?"

aaron leans his face towards your, pressing your foreheads together and whispers, "love, if we don't pack up and go pay soon, i'm going to commit some horrible acts to you right here in this dressing room."

later

"well, i can say with full confidence this was the worst shopping trip, in the history of shopping trips to ever exist." juliette announced to the entire car as she drove back to the base.

"maybe next time you shouldn't come along then." aaron retorted from the backseat where the both of you were seated. (aaron was insistent on both of you in the back instead of one in the passenger seat and one in the back seat.)

"you're the one who wasn't even suppose to come! y/n only brought you along because you're a clingy boyfriend."

"i don't know what you mean by that, i'm not clingy." aaron defended, crossing his arms over his chest, like a stubborn child would.

you couldn't help, but let out a small laugh, you tried covering up with a cough. aaron snapped his head in your direction, furrowing his brow, "do you think i'm clingy?"

"no- well, maybe a little.. but it's not a bad thing." you tried to reassure him. your boyfriend's clinginess could be a little much, but honestly the feeling of being loved so much by someone was worth any small inconveniences.

aaron tugs you closer to his seat, wrapping an arm around you. "well, it's not my fault i love you so much" he tells you, giving a small peck on your lips, "if anything i'm reeling in at least half of my clinginess."

you raise a brow at this, not quite believing that, "i can't imagine how you could possibly top your regular behavior."

"oh, i can always be much worse, love" he cockily says leaning his head down closer to yours.

juliette interrupted your shared moment with a comment, reminding you both of her presence in the front seat, "i'm gonna throw up from all this sappiness."

aaron as always was quick to come up with a cynical reply,"not our fault you and kent have the emotional connection of a brick."

"hey!"

#aaron warner imagine #aaron warner fanfic #aaron warner #aaron warner anderson #aaron warner x reader #aaron warner x female reader #shatter me #shatter me fanfic #juliette ferrars #kenji kishimoto #adam kent #x female reader #reader insert #fanfic #writing

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago

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Hello! Thank you for your work!🔥

How would Bi Han react in the event of his beloved's fatal illness? 💔

Thank you for reading them! (Even if I like to think half of them are shit.) and thank you for the request! 🦦

Bi-Han would be broken, shattered, lost and so full of anguish and all that was locked away behind a stoic facade upon hearing the news of potentially loosing his beloved forever.

He would try to find a way to combat against it to save his beloved, even despite being told by the best medics possible that there was only so much they could do before it inevitably became out of their power.

You; the reason that he dared to smile, the reason he dared to laugh despite attempting to hide it in his scoffs and grunts. You were even the reason he dared to love in the first place, gifting him the safe space to be open and vulnerable. And yet he was meant to reconcile and to accept the fact that he now had to bear the burden of living a long life without his beloved.

Bi-Han would blame the cause for your unfortunate circumstance on everyone else.

He wanted to point his finger at someone so badly as to not sit in his feelings, for he knew that he would only be crushed beneath the weight of his repressed emotions. Bi-Han didn’t want to feel anything during the hardest moment in his life, especially as he tried so hard to act indifferent towards the whole thing on the outside, whilst on the inside he was breaking.

Everything within him was breaking but the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei wasn’t allowed to express his grief other then behind closed doors. Bi-Han would sit by your side for long periods of time, refusing to depart from you for a single second for fear that any moment he wasn’t present would be your last. Bi-Han didn’t want to fathom you being alone in your final moments, it was disrespectful in his eyes for you deserved to pass away know that you were extremely loved.

He would eventually grow irritated and temperamental, snapping at everyone at every minor inconvenience made and is more ruthless then before, so much so that Kuai Liang would have to pull his brother aside and make him see reason in that you wouldn’t condone this sort of attitude. Kuai Liang understood that Bi-Han was in a bad state but wasn’t going to stand aside and allow him to treat others poorly.

Bonus: Kuai Liang was also grieving the fact that he was destined to loose a close friend but he wouldn’t resort to taking his frustrations out on others. It wasn’t fair on those who weren’t aware of the current situation. Tomas was also grieving the fact but did so within the privacy of his own room.

Needless to say that Bi-Han would come out of this a much more colder, unfeeling, vengeful, ruthless and dangerous man then ever before. His beloved was going to be unceremoniously taken from him and he was helpless to stop it and so when you do pass on, he would truly have nothing left to lose -outside of the Lin Kuei of course- and that would only make for Bi-Han to become even more of a threat.

His heart would freeze over into a literal block of ice because his heart would only belong to the one person who managed to melt it in the first place.

Never again would he ever entrust his heart to someone else no matter how hard they tried. To Bi-Han, no one could ever take your place and would even kill those who even dared try.

Bi-Han would even try to forget about you but that was proven to be a difficult task as he found himself unwilling to part from the last remaining things he has of you. So he would lay there at night remembering how he failed you, whilst reaching over to your side of the bed that had long since gone cold, a tear silently sliding down his cheek before his face naturally contorted into anger; the only emotion he felt nowadays.

#mk1 #mk x reader #mk imagine #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat imagines #bi han imagine #bi han x you #bi han x y/n #bi han imagines #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader

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redhead1180 · 9 months ago

Text

My So-Called Punishment

About - JJ x fem!reader

Summary - You have been in a mood all day and JJ decides to take matters in his own hands.

Warnings - MDNI, smut, hair pulling, rough housing (?), cursing, fighting, p in v, oral (f rec), let me know if missed anything

A/N - I was having a bad day and decided, I thought a little pure JJ smut would put a smile on my face. Between multiple moots talking about his biceps and the above gif, I had my inspiration. I wanted out faster, but I needed a nap when I got stuck. Then I needed a few cigarettes to get thru the smut. 🙄 Don't judge me.

Credit to original owners of gifs and @saradika-graphics for dividers. 😊

I had been in a shit mood all day. I really didn't know why, yea work was awful, but what else was new. The shit mood started when I woke up. Even JJ's sexy morning voice couldn't make me smile. When I got back to John B's after work, I had at snapped John B, JJ, and even poor Pope, every time they talked to me.

I had gotten a few side eyes from JJ and knew I was pushing my luck with him. The last snarky comment from me to JJ had earned a jaw snap and 'the look' saying I was about to piss him off.

JJ, John B, Pope, and I were watching a movie later in the evening and I got up to get me a beer. JJ asks nicely, I will give him that, to grab him one and I for no reason snap at him "Are you're legs fucking broken?". That was it, he stands up and comes over grabs my hand to drag me to the spare room.

"Somebody's in trouble" John B sings as JJ pulls me through the kitchen to his room.

"Don't be too rough, bro" Pope yells as JJ pushes me in the room.

"Listen, babe, I don't know what the fuck you're problem is today, but I have had it!" He growls at me as he throws me on the bed, slamming the door behind him. I land on my back and my head snaps back up, but I don't waste any time, I turn over and start scrambling to get up and off the bed. I was in for it, I knew it, but I wasn't going down just yet. Maybe this was what I wanted all day, to let off some sexual steam, cause I could feel the heat growing in my core. But I didn't want JJ to know that.

"Oh no, you ain't going anywhere" he snaps as he grabs my ankles, making me slam onto my stomach and starts pulling me back to the edge of the bed. I am trying to grab anything along the way, sheets, pillows, to get leverage to pull myself away. It wasn't doing any good cause they just came with me.

"JJ I ain't in the mood for this" I grunt as I try to kick and thrash at him. He could easily overpower me, we both knew it, but what was the fun in that. He knew I enjoyed trying to assert my dominance, as much as he enjoyed dominating me.

He slaps me hard on my bare thigh and hisses at me "That's for kicking at me". I buried my face as I let out a small moan, hoping he didn't hear it or see the way it soaked my panties. I still wasn't ready to give in, but the fire in my veins was raging. Before I could move, he reaches over me and grabs my shorts and panties, and yanks them both down my legs and tosses them.

"JJ, I swear to God - " I yelp mid sentence as JJ smacks my ass hard, leaving a red hand print. Then leans over me rubbing my cheek to help with the sting.

"You swear what, hmm love?" he teases me in my ear. He stands back up and sits down, hands wrapped around my ankles, attempting to pull my legs over his lap. I am still squirming and thrashing around.

"Stop squirming and being a brat, dammit!" he growls at me smacking my ass again. "You're only making this harder on yourself" I involuntarily let out a moan and feel my hole clench around nothing. I had slowed down enough, his hand wraps around the back of my neck and his other arm wraps around my thighs like a vice grip. I am literally bent over his lap and can't do anything, but squirm a bit. I was getting winded and the fight was getting knocked out of me. He adjusted his arm, effectively pushing my red tinged butt into in the air.

"Is this what you wanted, did you just need a spanking from daddy?" he questions, "Cause from the way you soaked your panties and are dripping down your leg, that's the outcome you wanted." He lets up on his vice grip and I feel him slide his hand between my thighs and pull causing me to gasp as cool air hits my wet hole. I feel his fingers start to run through my folds. I swallow a moan as the fire in my veins starts raging.

"I think 20 slaps are deserved for your brattiness today." he sternly says, "what do you think, princess, hmm?" He continues to rub my wetness around my folds never quite hitting my clit. I stay silent, using the silent treatment against him. I want to growl and moan at the same time. Against my will, I start to move against his fingers, trying for more. He slaps my pussy, making me cry out.

"I asked you a question" he growls. "I can keep this up all day, love."

"Yes!" I huff out.

He smacks my pussy again, drops of my arousal flying through the air.

"Yes what?"

"Yes daddy!" I huff out

"Count for me and don't mess up or we start back at one." He murmurs.

He smacks my cheek hard, I bite my lip and grunt "One." He smacks my other cheek, I feel the back of my eyes start to burn, "Two." He smacks the first cheek again, I let out a small whimper, "Three". He continues to smack my ass, switching cheeks after each one. When done, I am in tears, sniffling, biting and gripping the sheets for dear life.

He gets up and rolls me gently over, laying between my legs, then reaches up and wipes the tears away with his thumbs. "Are we gonna give daddy anymore problems today" he gently asks, as he looks into my eyes, nuzzling his nose against mine.

"No." I whimper out looking back at him, with big doe eyes, tears still in the corners.

"Aww baby I tried to give you warnings, but you wouldn't listen." He mewls as he starts to kiss my tear soaked cheeks. One hand reaching down to rub my hip and thigh lovingly.

"I know," I sputter "I just been in a shit mood all day and I don't know why. Then work was horrible, dealing with kooks harassing me the whole time. I just couldn't help it. "

He brushes some hair off my forehead, chewing on his lip, as if having an internal debate.

"Well I shouldn't ask this, since you were just punished, but you want daddy to make you feel better?" he asks with a little grin.

"Mhmm, please"

He smirks and leans down, kissing me gently, his hand moving from my hip to snake up my stomach, leaving goosebumps in it's wake, and pinch my already hardened nipple. He breaks the kiss for a second to pull my shirt over my head and immediately reattaches his lips to mine forcing his tongue into my mouth. His hand reaches behind my head to grip my hair causing my to tilt up, giving him more access. What was a gentle kiss had turned into a hungry, tongue dominating, teeth clashing kiss that was making my toes curl and forget all about my stinging ass. I let out a whine as I kiss him back just as hungrily.

I desperately start to pull at his shirt, wanting it off, letting out whines and whimpers as he continues his assault on my lips. Desperately needing air, I pull back from the kiss and he starts to place open mouthed kisses down my jaw and neck.

"You have too many clothes on, daddy" I moan out. I hear him chuckle as uses the hand that was on my boob, reaches behind his head, grabs his shirt and pulls it off. His hand going back to its previous spot. I groan loving the feel of his back muscles beneath my hands. His mouth finds a new home on my other tit, sucking and nibbling, until I was pushing my hips up to meet him.

"Is my baby girl a little needy?" he teases as he kisses down my stomach.

"Yes, need more"

"Daddy's got you, I am gonna make you forget all about your shitty mood..." he kissed a trail from hip to hip and then settles on his stomach between my thighs. He uses his fingers to spread me open, blowing gently on my hole, sending a wave of electricity through my system.

"Please daddy!" you gasp grabbing his hair, trying to pull him toward you.

JJ places an open mouthed kiss on you and begins running his tongue through your folds. "God baby you have the sweetest pussy on the whole damn island." he rasps as he starts sucking your pearl. You know you aren't going to last long, the fire running through you going straight to your core. Without letting up his assault on your clit, he slips a finger in and immediately curves it to that sweet spot that will leave you in tremors.

"Fuck!" you gasp out, throwing your head back deeper into the bed, grabbing his hair and holding him to you. He adds another finger and speeds up pumping his fingers in and out of you, your arousal juices running down his fingers and hand, being slung all over your thighs. That familiar pain settles in your core telling you that you were on the edge.

"I'm cum-" you start to gasp, but it turns into a scream as you topple over the edge. JJ removes his fingers and moves mouth to slurp the juices spilling out of you.

JJ sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of hand, "We're not done yet princess" he drawls as he grabs my hips and flips me on my stomach. He rubs my red ass and then puts in the prone position, laying down on top and wrapping his arm around me neck.

Without any warning, he thrusts into me all the way, letting out a groan and starts pounding into me. I grab his biceps and bite him to muffle my scream, the burn from him stretching me almost too much. JJ hisses "Easy baby".

The pain doesn't last long and I become a moaning mess, letting out "uh-uhs" every time he slams into me. JJ's essence is all around me. I can smell salt water, weed and mint. I feel the warmth of his body all over me as he lays on top of me, his sweat mixing with mine as our bodies rub together. The strength of his arm around my neck, so strong, yet so gentle and never hurts me. His other hand on my hip, gripping me to the position he wants. I consume it all into my senses, like a hungry wolf.

"Fuck baby you taking me so good, so fucking tight" JJ moans in my ear. As he speeds up, arm squeezing tighter around my neck, I can hear little grunts and whines coming from him. "Jesus fuck, princess, I love you" he babbles in my ear.

"I love you too, daddy" I grunt out.

JJ pulls my butt up and hits my G-spot, making me cry out. I use one hand to grab the headboard and the other hangs on to his bicep for dear life. My vision starts to go blurry as I see stars every time he hits that spot. I can feel my orgasm building as he slams into me.

"Daddy I am close" I moan out.

"Cmon baby, let go for me" JJ whispers as his hand moves from hip to my clit. He starts vigorously rubbing figure eights on it, helping me reach my high. I feel his thrusts start to stutter, can tell he is getting close too.

"Be a good girl for daddy and cum all over my cock" he rasps out placing his forehead between my shoulder blades.

The praise was all it took for my orgasm to hit like freight train and cause me to clench around JJ, screaming to God and Jesus as the pleasure rushed over me in waves. There is a ringing in my ear, I see stars, and I feel the gush of liquid rush out of me all over my thighs.

"O fuck babe, gonna -shit- rip my -o fuck- dick off" JJ stutters out. He lets out a loud groan as thrusts in me and stills. I let go of the headboard and reach behind me to grab his head holding it close to me.

JJ continues to slowly thrust in me, riding out highs out, then collapses on top of me. My legs are shaking and I am gasping for breath. He takes a minute, catching his breath, then starts leaving kisses along my shoulder blades. He slowly slides out of me and attempts to get up, I let out a whimper and hold tight to his arm.

"I'm not go anywhere baby" he softly chuckles. "Just moving over to the side so I don't smush you."

I weakly turn over on to my back and JJ is on his side, head on his hand, elbow bent, looking down at me. He reaches up and pulls my hair off my sweaty face. He leans down and gives me a sweet kiss.

"Feeling better princess" he smirks down at me.

I smile, a little wobbly, and whisper "Yes." I pause and and bite my finger, look up at him mischievously "I think my shit mood is gone now"

He bursts out laughing, grabbing me for a hug, "God you're gonna be the death of me."

We both hear John B from the living room yell, "Are y'all finally done fucking?"

#jj maybank smut #jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj obx #jj maybank x reader #jj outer banks #jj mayback imagine #jj x reader #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank x you

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eddiemunson-reader-shame · 24 days ago

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Good Morning Hawkins, I feel like hell so I made this little pick me up

I think we as a society greatly underestimate how comfortable awkward guys get when you actually reciprocate their awkward attempts at flirting.

I wholeheartedly subscribe to the fact that Eddie is an uwu nervous bean, but like, see I’ve dated nervous beans.

I’ve also dated nervous beans who were into heavy metal.

We’re talking about socially awkward, extremely horny guys who are dtf no matter the time or place if they can find someone with a pulse who is willing.

Literally that is their ultimate fantasy.

So while Eddie might be a little more cautious with someone who is bold and flirtatious, I think if he can get a read on your intentions, he will be down to do anything immediately.

Like, you two could be egging each other on nervously, and it just gets to the point where he will take the plunge and kiss you immediately, willing to risk getting slapped for it because you’re just so great.

His social awkwardness comes from a deep seated desire of just going for the gold and trying to kiss someone. He likes to stir the pot, because, it’s Eddie. He jumps up on tabletops and makes faces at people, I refuse to believe that someone with that kind of behavior wouldn’t just try kissing for the sake of trying.

It’s one of those moments where you’re telling him to shut up, and you’re just like “make me shut up” and the kiss happens because he is always going to challenge authority.

So he kisses you and he just freezes up, until you pull away and kiss him back, then suddenly you’re being yanked into the back seat of the van.

Literally, my mans will pop his cherry on the first date. It’s a metalhead thing. They literally are the ones who are down to clown any time, any place.

Eddie would 100% be a reckless thrill seeker. And I think he too wants someone who will like cheap thrills with him. It’s the most exciting thing happening in his life at the moment, and he really likes you. And wants to be around you.

He also wants to seed you fkskdkkskskksksk

Mans pops a boner the first time he kisses you and will just point blank blurt out his feelings.

“Eddie… why do you have a boner right now?”

Eddie: BECAUSE I LIKE YOU TF?!

I just can’t subscribe to Eddie being a slow burn person when he really told Steve Harrington that if someone jumped into a lake for him he would do anything in his power to get them back because it’s true love.

Eddie Munson is a hopeless fucking romantic. I’m sorry to tell you all this.

And hopeless romantic metalheads who have a love for fantasy are the kind of guys who get equally hopeless romantic girls (like me fmskkdk) pregnant in high school.

Alternatively, they’re also the ones who ask you to get married after like two months of knowing one another.

Trust me, I’ve almost been in both situations. Unfortunately, the guys weren’t Eddie Munson.

Because the difference between reckless guys who don’t think and Eddie, is the fact that Eddie thinks long and hard about his life with you. He meticulously plans out every little thing of how he wants to keep you with him, and how he will be the kind of person you need him to be.

Because one thing that Eddie has that no one else does or ever will: it’s that big, beautiful heart who takes in lost sheeps and gives them a place where they belong.

So once he is locked in, this mother fucker is locked the fuck in.

Naked women on wild horses couldn’t tear this man away from you.

Freaks mate for life. So if you can lock in Eddie, you’re never getting rid of him.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #admin speaks #stranger things x reader #mentally i’m here #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson headcannon #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hcs #stranger things fics

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goosewriting · 9 months ago

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Dinner Disaster

summary: after some flirting, reth finally asks reader out for dinner, but it doesn’t go as planned (follows the dinner disaster quest)

relationship: Reth x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for Reth’s backstory and interactions, smooching

word count: 5.1k

A/N: literally no one asked for this but this game is consuming my very being to a molecular level, and this man is a big reason i’m obsessed. btw if any of you play palia or are interested in playing, hmu and we can add each other lol this is set some time after the flirting starts, after reader gets involved in his uh, side business. this is more or less how the quest played out in my head so, yeah, enjoy~

Navigation: Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Since you developed a real green thumb, to the delight and pride of Badruu, you have some extra apples from your tree that you don’t know what to do with. So, as with most of your garden surplus, you decide to bring them to Reth, who will surely find a good use for the produce.

You spot the freckled Majiri behind the bar when you enter the Inn, thinking that he’d probably make an apple pie with the fruit, and that you’d surely get a slice. Your mouth waters at the thought. You wonder when the cook will teach you the recipe; maybe you should ask him.

Reth’s working the register, finishing some transaction with another human customer, when you place the wooden crate of apples on the bar, and proceed to take a seat on the stool you usually occupy when you visit him at the Inn. Reth gives the apples a curious glance, and talks to you over his shoulder as he hands the customer some change.

“Thanks, babe,” he says without thinking, and you both freeze at his words, as does the human who just paid for a recipe. They shoot you a quick look with raised brows, then silently turn on their heels and walk out of the Inn. Reth slowly turns to you.

“Sorry, that kinda slipped out,” he says sheepishly, unable to meet your eyes. “Are we at the babe status yet?”

To be honest, if he had asked you first, you probably would have said no. It’s not your favourite pet name, and he could surely come up with something better. He often calls you sweet tooth, which you’ve actually come to like a lot. But hearing him call you ‘babe’ so matter-of-factly out of nowhere… You’re surprised to realise that you actually like how it sounded, how it sounds coming from him.

“I mean… If you want to be,” you answer after a moment, deciding to tease him a little. “Sure thing, babe.”

Except that it backfires and it ends with both of your faces burning up, which he tries to play off by clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’ll still have to get used to it, too,” you chuckle, bringing a hand to your face in an attempt to cover up how flustered you got. “But I like it when you say it.”

“Noted,” he replies, then looks around the Inn to see if someone else will approach the register. As there’s no one else, he fully faces you, leaning slightly over the bar. “Say, what are you up to today?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” you reply, starting to count on your fingers. “Hunting, fishing, foraging. Then tending to the vegetable garden. I also need to craft a new chair. Why?”

“A-are you busy later tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your elbow and give him a lopsided smile.

“I’m never too busy for you,” you offer, and he smiles amusedly at your answer. “You have anything in mind?”

“I was thinking we could have dinner. At your place, maybe?” he asks. “I’ll take care of the food and everything. You just have to show up.”

Up until now, no one has actually visited your house. Sure, you upgraded from your first precarious tent to a proper building, and the Majiri came by every so often to say hi or bring you something, but no one has actually gone into your house. And for some reason the thought of Reth not only being at your place but also being the first one to do so, it makes you a bit nervous… but in a good way.

You realise that he’s still looking at you waiting for an answer, fidgeting with a loose nail on the wooden crate still on the bar.

“I’d love that, actually,” you reply.

“Great!” He looks actually relieved. As if I would have said no to you asking me out, you think, smiling to yourself. He’s so innocent sometimes. Reth takes the crate and shoves it under the bar somewhere.

“Then let’s say around 6pm?” he proposes.

“Sounds good,” you agree with a nod.

Ashura enters the Inn, giving you a warm smile and a wave from afar as he spots you. Given that it’s his boss and you shouldn’t be distracting Reth from work, you take it as your cue to leave.

“See you later then,” you say in a low voice so Ashura can’t hear you.

“Don’t miss me too much,” Reth gives you his usual goodbye. He winks at you and you merely roll your eyes as you turn to exit the place. And just in time, so he can’t see your flustered face. You can’t remember when exactly the winking started, but it never fails to make you weak in the knees.

Once down at the plaza, you refocus on your tasks for the day, mentally making a list of the things to buy, resources to mine and places to go. Then you head for your first stop with a spring in your step. Tonight can’t come quickly enough.

— — —

You come home with a backpack full to the brim of crabs, plants, stones and other goodies. As you set down your things on the grass with a grunt from the weight, you see your palcat coming out of the house to greet you.

“Hey there,” you say, crouching down to scratch her head. She purrs and meows happily. You recently got this companion, and it’s been nice having someone at home to come back to. She often accompanies you when you go out as well, but this morning she was feeling especially lazy and cosy so she stayed in bed. You walk to your storage crate, starting to put everything away, and your cat looks at you with a light tilt to the head as you tell her about your day.

“Oh and actually,” you finish your retelling with the big news. “We’re having a visitor today.”

“Mreow?”

“Yeah, him… So you have to be on your best behaviour, you hear me?” you tell your cat with an accusing finger pointing at her. “We have to make a good impression. If you’re good, you can have lots of treats later, okay?”

She meows again, and you like to think she just agreed; bribes with food always work, after all.

There’s still some time until six, so you tend to your garden, clean yourself and change into a new set of clothes, the nicer one. It’s the only one you own, and it was a gift from Jel. In fact, all the clothing you have was given to you by him in some way or another. You make a mental note to prepare a gift for him for helping you out so much.

Next to your house there’s a nice spot among the trees, near the pond, where you can hear the trickling of water. You grab a big blanket and a lantern, and set everything up for a picnic corner. Even if whatever Reth brought was more of a “plates and cutlery at the table” kind of meal, you could still come out here after and look at the stars a bit. Then, maybe you’ll find the courage to make a proper move on him… You imagine the both of you sitting on the blanket, illuminated only by the warm glow of a candle and the gentle moonlight, you take his hand, he leans in, and…

You mentally slap yourself to get rid of those thoughts, cheeks ablaze. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you reprimand yourself. He may be a bit of a flirt at times, but Reth doesn’t strike you as the type of person to take such feelings lightly. So you have to make sure that he even is into you in the first place. Like actually into you. Suddenly your whole mental scenario shifts, and as you take his hand, he pulls away, disgusted. But wait. Dinner was his idea. He even called you ‘babe’. Surely he must have some interest, right? You’re not just… a side piece?

Before you can spiral down further, you hear your name being called, although it’s not the voice you were expecting; this one is higher and has a slight lisp. You turn around to find Auni by the gate to your yard. You jog up to where he stands, smiling curiously. Sure, he delivers the mail twice a day, but usually you just find the letters in your mailbox as if they magically appeared; you never saw him actually deliver anything. You wonder if he has a new cool bug to show you.

“Hey Auni!” you greet the boy as you approach him.

“Hi, I have a delivery for you,” he announces, holding out something for you to take.

“Oh, what is it?”

“Reth paid me in cakes to have this brought to you asap, said it was really important.”

“Oh?”

You take the letter from him with a thanks, and he says his goodbyes. Why would Reth send a letter when he’s supposed to show up himself? Maybe it’s a treasure hunt kinda thing?

You open the folded piece of paper, which isn’t even in an envelope, recognising Reth’s handwriting, but it’s even messier and more hurried than usual. The curious smile on your face disappears, your brows furrowing as you read.

Hey, I feel like a HUGE jerk for doing this, but I have to cancel our plans tonight. Something came up that I can’t ignore. Next time we see each other I promise I’ll explain.

- Reth

It feels like your whole body suddenly runs cold, and your hands drop to your sides, your eyes looking ahead at nothing in particular.

Your cat, who had poked her head out the door when she heard Auni, seems to sense the shift in you and approaches, meowing softly, as if asking if everything is okay. You look down at her, and give a light shrug.

“Looks like we won’t have visits after all…” you explain, reading over the letter one more time, then letting out a deep sigh. “Let’s get you something to eat, c’mon.”

She seems to know those words, as she immediately stands up and circles around your legs. Following you inside, she waits for you to get the bowl ready, and once you set it on the ground, she happily digs in.

“Well, at least one of us got a nice dinner.”

You stroke once from her head to her long bushy tail, to which she comically lifts her behind, then you decide to turn in for the night and head to bed, not really feeling hungry despite the eventful day.

— — —

The next morning you wake up to the sunlight shining through your window and fully hitting your face; you forgot to close the blinds the night before. With a squint, you look down at the weight you feel on yourself and find your cat curled up on your lap, which gets a sleepy half smile out of you.

Picking her up in your arms, you go to close one of the blinds, then make your bed and head to the kitchen for breakfast. You start your routine like normal, having breakfast, taking care of the garden, going through your inventory to check what you need and what you can sell. You take your time, though, not really wanting to head into the village just yet.

By the time you’re ready to go, it’s almost noon. Usually you’d be at the inn in the morning to say hi to Reth and chat a bit before starting your day. And while you really don’t feel like talking to him after leaving you hanging yesterday, you also know that he’s probably beating himself up about it, even more so if you haven’t been seen all morning. So after heaving a deep sigh, in hopes of letting all anger and frustration exit your body, you walk through the gate down into the village. To your surprise and delight, your cat follows this time.

You make your way towards the central plaza, exchanging greetings with those who walk by you, stopping to have a short chat with Chayne, whom you probably don’t talk to enough. You make a mental note to remedy that.

Somewhere in your mind though, you know you’re just stalling; you should just get it over with. Reth probably has a good explanation. Besides, you don’t want to be mad at him or give him the silent treatment or anything. You miss him, and you do want to see him. You’re just… disappointed.

Taking one last deep breath as you stand before the Inn, you look down at your palcat and give her a nod. She meows encouragingly. You walk in through the open door, relieved to find it mostly empty. There’s very few people sitting at the tables in the corner, and Ashura isn’t at the reception desk.

Your eyes find Reth’s behind the bar, and he freezes for a moment. You approach him like you normally would, about to take a seat on your usual stool.

“Wait,” he says before you’re able to fully sit down. You merely shoot him a questioning look. He lowers his voice, shooting a quick glance at the people eating at the tables. “Let’s talk in the back.”

Reth scribbles something on a piece of paper and places it next to the till, indicating for you to follow him with a nod of his head. You pat the seat you meant to take while commanding your cat to hop onto it, and she does, so you tell her to stay there and wait. Then as you walk to where he said, you take a quick look at the paper; it reads “back in 5”.

You follow Reth into the back room, and you both come to stand in the farthest corner; since there are two archways but only one has a door, this will have to do to stay away from prying ears and curious eyes. You both talk in hushed voices.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says with a sigh, scratching his neck. He drags his eyes up to meet yours, scared of what he might find. “Please don’t be mad. Are you mad? You can be a little mad. I’m such a jerk–”

“Hey, no need don’t say that,” you interrupt him, and you just look at each other in silence for a second. “I mean, I’m upset, but not in a ‘mad at you’ way. More in a… ‘I was really looking forward to it and was bummed that you had to cancel at the last minute’ way.

“I was really looking forward to it too, it’s just…” Reth runs his hand over his face with a groan. “Yesterday was kind of a mess.”

“What happened?”

“Ashura caught me sneaking into the back rooms after hours. I panicked, so I lied and said I was actually planning a party for him, as a thank you. He liked that idea, so he got off my back, but now I actually have to throw him a dinner party with other people.”

You look to the side, unable to stop the scoff that escapes you. But it isn’t a mocking or offended scoff, it’s more of an amused sharp exhale.

For a moment, you think back to how you kind of ended up roped into his side hustle of smuggling illicit goods (especially Flow and ancient artifacts, which are very illegal), which is why he was sneaking around in the first place. You’ve been covering for him with Ashura and many others for a while now, and while at first it was more of a personal favour, now you're in too deep. Not that you mind, though. If you’re being honest with yourself, it adds a bit of an exhilarating factor to everyday life. You’re not entirely sure yet about the actual power and meaning of Flow in this society, but it seems to be connected to humans in some way, so you’re at least a little bit interested in it. If you have to investigate and interact with it in secret, then so be it; you also want answers as to what happened to humanity and how you landed here. Besides, it’s one more thing you two can bond over. Literally partners in crime. The thought makes you smile to yourself.

“You’re kind of bad at this whole criminal thing, you know?” you tell him with a playful grin. “Getting strangers involved, almost being caught by your boss.”

He doesn’t seem too amused.

“I know, I’m…” his demeanour shifts from annoyed at and with himself to almost shy, and he looks down as he bites the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’ve been distracted lately, is all.”

You hum in response, somewhat intrigued. When his gaze comes back up to meet yours though, eyes filled with yearning, the look he gives you makes your heart skip a beat, and suddenly you’re all too aware of how close you’re standing to each other. You need to wrap this up.

“So is there anything I can do to help you out?” you ask him.

“What? No, you really don’t need to. You’ve already saved my hide so many times,” he’s quick to dismiss your question. “Besides, cooking is one of the few things I’m actually good at, so I got that covered.”

Suddenly he looks like he just thought of something that you could in fact help out with, but he doesn’t want to say. You give his upper arm a soft push with your fist.

“C’mon, out with it,” you encourage him with a playful smile.

“Well…” His eyes linger for a second where you touched him. “I need to prepare everything, so I can’t be out and about actually inviting everyone to the dinner party.”

He takes out a paper from his pocket and hands it to you. You skim over it, seeing a list of names.

“If you could invite everyone and let me know how many guests will come, I can make sure to cook the right amout.”

“Got it,” you reply with a nod. “I’ll ask around and probably send Auni back to let you know. He told me you’re paying him in cakes for special deliveries. Think you can sneak another baking session in today on top of dinner? On my tab.”

“Sure thing,” he chuckles, then gets serious again. “And hey, I really am sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Reth, it’s okay, really,” you say, and he’s so close and he looks so sad, you want to hold his face so badly. In fact, your hand is already going up, but you pull back midway, fidgeting with the collar of your shirt instead. “Just… be more careful next time, okay?”

“Yeah…” he sighs. “And thank you, for the invites. I owe you. Again.”

“Yes, you do,” you chuckle. “Maybe I should start charging you with interest.”

He starts patting down his pockets.

“I don’t have any cash on me at the moment,” he says with a smile, playing along.

Your answer comes quicker than you can anticipate and you’re unable to stop your words.

“I was thinking more along the lines of kisses maybe…”

Both of you look at each other a bit shocked.

“Oh. O-oh,” is all he stammers.

Whatever confidence came over you for you to say that, immediately dissipates as Reth turns several shades of pink darker. The tips of his ears look like they might actually catch fire any moment.

“But we can talk about payment later,” you’re quick to add, and clear your throat. “I’ll uhm, get your invites out. You better start on that food.”

“Right. Yes,” he says stiffly, and you both put some space between each other. “Thanks again. And sorry too. And–”

“Reth,” you cut him short again, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. See you later.”

“B-bye.”

You exit the backroom, calling for your cat, who walks around the bar to find you, and you make a hasty exit through the back, walking down the stairs to your left. As you pass the river, you consider for a moment jumping into the water to cool down. Maybe that would get your heart to slow down again. You fist your shirt over your chest where you can feel the pounding against your ribs.

An inquisitive meow from the side gets your attention back, and you look down at your companion, who’s looking up at you confusedly.

“Right. We have a job to do,” you say and go to take out the paper with the list from your pocket, except that it’s been in your hand the whole time, and it’s now crumpled and slightly damp because of how clammy your hands were. You cringe a bit at that, commanding yourself to calm down at once. Geez, get a grip on yourself, you think.

It takes a while to track Auni down after everyone else, given that he’s always out on his mail route or out and about exploring, probably trying to catch some bugs. When you finally find him, you give him the list of people who plan to atttend Ashura’s dinner, and send him to Reth to deliver the news with the promise of getting his sticky hands on more cake. This seems to do the trick, and he happily jogs off with the new list stuffed into a side pocket of his gigantic backpack. You look after him as his figure gets smaller and smaller, wondering how he’s even able to carry all that. His equipment is bigger than himself.

With a shake of your head, you bring your attention back to your own equipment, and get your bow and arrows ready. Today you’re hunting chapaas; Hassian asked for some meat and fur earlier this week and you haven’t been able to deliver yet.

— — —

You get back home relatively late, and when you do, the flag on your mailbox is up. Setting down your haul next to it, you get out several letters, looking for a message from Reth. And lo and behold, there’s one from him, this time properly written and folded into an envelope.

He says that in the end everything worked out, to which you sigh in relief. Ashura doesn’t suspect a thing apparently, and everyone had a great time. He tells you to meet him at your “private spot” tonight, he has something to give you.

You look at the time, then down at yourself; you’re looking pretty shabby after hunting for hours on end, kneeling down in mud and such. So you quickly change into clean clothes, wash your face and prepare food for your loyal cat. As she happily munches away, you grab your jacket and leave again. Nights can get pretty chilly here, you’ve learned.

It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the inn, given that you’re essentially bee lining for it. Checking that no one’s following you or sees you enter the inn from the back, you quickly take a left and go down the stairs towards the storage room. Reth gave you the key to it, so you unlock the door and enter, quickly closing it behind you.

When you turn around, you’re met with the cook on the other side of the room, stopping whatever he was doing on the table, and he stands up to come and meet you.

“Hey sweet tooth, thanks for coming,” he greets you.

“Hey,” you smile up to him but he looks tense. “Is everything okay? I thought you said the dinner party worked out? “

“No, it did. It’s- It’s not that,” he curses under his breath at himself.

“What is it then?”

Reth sighs, and you can tell he’s trying to find the right words. So you give him a moment to gather his thoughts, waiting patiently.

“You know… I’m not used to asking for help,” he starts explaining. “Even as a kid, I wouldn't, and I didn't expect others to help, either. It was always just me and Tish against the world. And now there’s you.”

His cheeks flush ever so slightly, and you can start to feel yours mirroring his.

“Here you come, busting into my life,” he says with a soft smile, but it quickly vanishes. “And even though I keep messing up… somehow you’re still here. You’re not sick of me yet.”

You want to interject, as that “yet” doesn’t sit well with you, but he doesn’t let you.

“And more than that, you've put yourself on the line for me, more than once. I honestly don't understand why you keep putting up with me but… I really do appreciate everything you've done and how much you've helped me out, and Tish as well. But the cartel… I- I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. And I don’t want to scare you off either.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Whatever is going on between us, I don’t want to lose this. So let me make it up to you.”

He steps aside to show you what’s on the table: a container with your favourite food.

“And I know this is barely enough for everything–”

“Reth, please stop,” you interrupt him before he can spiral further, your voice soft. “I’ll take the food, thank you. It looks delicious. But you really don’t have to try to make up for any of the, uh, side business stuff. Sure, the dinner didn’t work out, but if you say we just have dinner another day, then that is enough for me.”

You step a little closer, your hand tentatively reaching out for his.

“And you don’t have to worry about scaring me off.” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper now. “I also don’t want to lose what we have. I’m not going anywhere.”

Reth looks down at your hands as he shyly intertwines his fingers with yours, and when his eyes come back up to meet yours, they’re full of something… new. His gaze flickers down to your lips for a second and back up, and you wonder if he can hear your erratic heartbeat. You’re standing so close to each other right now, it wouldn’t take a lot to close the gap.

“That said, though, about that payment I mentioned…” you trail off.

His jaw clenches, and he looks to the side, pulling back away from you ever so slightly.

“Are you sure about this?” he questions rather bitterly. “About me?”

“What do you mean?” you ask. He sighs, eyes cast down at the floor.

“People will talk. They probably already are. With my reputation and all… I strayed from my Path. Most days I’m convinced people don’t even like my soup. I’m nothing more than a scoundrel.”

Your free hand comes up to gingerly hold his chin and turn his face to make him look at you.

“First of all, I don’t care what people say,” you start refuting his arguments. “Maybe I still don’t understand Majiri tradition, but I think you should be free to choose your own path with no expectations, and change it if you find it doesn’t suit you. And I like your soup. Also, I think being a scoundrel is part of your charm. Is that a bad thing?”

He doesn’t reply immediately, and when he does, his voice is so small you almost miss it.

“You’re too good for me.”

You pull back slightly to fully look at him, and it breaks your heart a little how earnestly he means that. So you let go of his hand and hug his torso instead, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I don’t know what happened that makes you think that, but I will try my best to show you how wrong you are. You deserve good things, Reth. Whatever it is you want, you’re allowed to pursue it.”

He hugs you back, tightly, so you place a kiss to the only place you can reach, which is his jawline just below his ear. You feel him tremble, but if it’s from relief, anticipation or something else, you can’t tell.

“Right now what I want is you,” he says after a moment.

“Then what are you waiting for.”

Reth lets go only enough for you to come back face to face with him, and he doesn’t waste a second to capture your lips with his. At first it’s shy, new, a sequence of soft pecks, testing the waters. When your hands travel up his chest to cup his face, he relaxes a bit more, kissing you more confidently. His hands slip underneath your open jacket, holding onto your waist and pulling you to him.

His kisses grow more intense, hungrier, and his tongue finds its way to yours. You can’t help the low moan that escapes you when he presses you further into him, and he practically swallows it.

As he takes a step forward, you take one backwards, then another and another, until your back hits the door, and you’re being squished between the rough wooden surface and Reth’s body trying to get impossibly close to yours. The impact makes you grunt, and he responds with something between a sigh and a growl, moving away from your lips to attack your neck. You welcome the break to take a breather, panting, and you remember something.

“Wait,” you say between breaths, and immediately Reth stops his soft bites and licks on your throat, also out of breath, and worry starts spreading on his face.

“W-what? Is this okay? I–”

Your hand on his face gently covers his mouth to stop him from talking, while with the other you turn the key below the doorknob to lock the door, which you had forgotten to do when you arrived.

“Just don’t want to risk getting interrupted, is all.”

You take a moment to admire his slightly dishevelled form: the bandana is a bit askew, his pupils are blown out, his cheeks and ears a deep pink. You probably don’t look much different, to be honest. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to give him permission to continue.

“Let’s move away from the door, maybe–” you start, and within an instant, strong arms are picking you up under your thighs, carrying you over to the other side of the room and setting you down on the table.

“Better?” he asks, placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Better,” you reply with a smile.

“You said you’re charging me with lots of interest,” he mumbles into your skin as he starts again where he left off earlier. You can only hum in response. “And I plan on paying back what I owe.”

You pull back a little to look at him, and the newfound confidence and assertiveness in his eyes and voice send a pleasant tingle down your spine.

“I’m very much looking forward to it.”

— — —

A/N 2: what? goose being attacked by brainrot over a freckled red-head who seems confident on the outside but is actually riddled with insecurities and does some illegal stuff to keep his family safe? huh, bet no one saw that one coming 🙄 guess i have ONE TYPE, smh.

A/N 3: if this is something you'd like to see more of, feel free to let me know and i'll add palia to my taglist fandoms for you to sign up :D palia has now been added to my taglist! link in my pinned post~

#goose feathers #palia x reader #palia reth x reader #reth x reader #i don't even have a masterlist ready for this one #i have to make a new header lol #and yes i am planning on making this a series because i am delulu and 3 parters is my sweet spot apparently

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granolawriting · 1 year ago

Text

A change in fate ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your toxic ex kicks you out of your place without another word. Only hiring a mover to get your stuff somewhere else. And when Joel finds you in a state of disarray, and stays indifferent, you butt heads until it comes to a head when your paths cross again after that night. That time, much more complicated.

Content warning: age gap, you're 21 and Joel is mid 30s to early 40s. Enemies to lovers.

word count: 4k

A/N: this is the first of a two-part series inspired by an old movie I grew up with. If you can recognize it, I'll like, give you a really big treat. no nsfw this chapter, but the next one will. And as always, let me know if you like my work or if you have any suggestions for anything else I could write :)

Part 2 out now!!: to make you forget

“NO. No. No no no no no no no NO!!!”

Your fist hits solid wood once more. Every slam that pounds upon its impenetrable front leaves a mark on your hand in the shape of bruises and soreness-- you try the door once more. It's locked, as it had been the last ten times you attempted to open it. Desperation laced in the fruitless fervor that played its sound of metal clanking on metal as the knob refused to turn.

The thump on the ground follows a fall of your knees. Defeated, hopeless, in a dress that isn't even yours. Tears stream from your face in such passion you can't even feel them anymore as more of you is wet than it is dry. You imagine you look a mess, hair disheveled as you held it as you screamed at him-- makeup once beautiful and elegant streams down and across your face in the motion your hands chose to wipe away your tears.

A screeching of tires followed by the shutting of a door is what knocks you out of this pathetic display. A man walks over to you and begins to pick up the boxes right beside you, carrying them to the back of his truck that has the title “MOVERS” painted on its side. You clamor to your feet, disorientation doesn't help the heels strapped to your feet as you chase after him;

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with those? Who the hell are you?”

Rancor coats your tongue as your anger spits out onto him, He stands in the middle of an empty parking lot with only the light emanating from houses and lamps decorating the street are you able to take him in.

He was tall, perhaps 6ft, an older man. Salt and pepper hair covered just above his forehead and a stern face was complimented by equally gruff facial hair of similar color, and a frown that seemed natural for him. He wore an old jacket-- probably made in the same year you were born with plaid linings on its inside to support a Carhartt branded outside. All the clothes upon his body seemed worn, from the stained jeans and a belt fitted so many times it might as well have been made for the exact curve of his body, to the heavy worker's boots with every scratch telling a story beyond your years. He looks at you. Up and down his eyes register curiously the woman that stood before him. He scoffs, and with a low Texan drawl he replies in kind;

“Well princess, looks here like someone was kind enough to get yourself a mover for all them boxes outside the house. ‘Supose you know where i'm to drop em off?”

“They can stay right here.”

It comes out of you not in a literal sense, but you guess a plea of desperation. You can't imagine that this is actually happening. You can't just leave. After all the years you spent with him, all the hours you poured into his care and the best he can do is call up some old guy to take your shit somewhere else?

“Now you know I can't do that. I ain't come all the way down here just for’ nothin. Now, I was hired to move, least you can let me do is my job.”

His palms outstretched to you as he finishes putting the first box in the back of his truck, looking to you with little care for what you’re properly going through, moreso just a plea to let him go home sometime before 1 in the morning.

your breath grows uneven again, you feel something build up in you again as you just refuse to accept this. Turning your back to him, you storm over to another box untouched by him and kick it, screaming and crying and truly just making a mess of yourself as you collapse once again on the curb of the sidewalk. Folding your arms across your knees, and with a head buried deep in your chest you sit there for a moment as you listen to the crunch of his boots against the loose gravel along the pavement trail back and forth past you as each box is stored into the vehicle.

“Still haven't given me an address. Or were ya’ thinkin' of just sitting here and lettin' me take yer’ things?”

Irritation follows his tone as he becomes increasingly impatient about your behavior.

“I don't have anywhere to go.”

“Surely you got someplace. Now get a move on, I'm bout damn tired of all this.”

He drags you up by your upper arms, feeling his calloused hands hold onto the smoothness of your body as he lifts you to your feet. Shocked though, you push him away from you in haste;

“I can get up by myself. Thank you very much.”

You dust yourself off for just a moment before continuing, he looks at you with impatience.

“And I need a ride.”

He stammers a bit as he begins to speak,

“A- fucking,? Damn. alright then. Just get the hell on alright? Sure you wouldn't want em’ having to pay me extra.”

He walks back to his truck as you follow, The two footsteps upon the concrete road are all that can be heard in the neighborhood as your pain slowly wells into your chest, and the outbursts cease.

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

“Now, listen here. We've been drivin' for damn near an hour now, and ain't nothing come of it. Where the hell am I takin you? Or I'm about to leave ya on the side of the damn road. I've got a kid at home.”

“Just take me to the other side of town.”

“Are you fuckin kidding me? Now, I don't know what you've got goin on and I truly, don't want to. But you're real damn selfish ya know that? Makin me drive all over town like this like I'm some goddamn taxi. This place best got some money to pay me for.”

His voice is deep, gruff, and when laced with the anger of a despondent woman who seems as if she has all the time in the world he's not keen to hold back judgment anymore. His hand grips the steering wheel firmly and doesn't look at you for a moment as he speaks to you.

You're taken aback, to say the least. After the pain you've felt, the torment you've faced the only thing to greet you is the unwanted mouth of some old man who doesn't know what he's talking about.

“I'm selfish? You don't know the night I've had. How can you call me selfish? You were hired for a reason so why don't you just do your fucking job okay? As long as you’re getting paid it shouldn't matter a damn to you.”

You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms in his passenger seat, watching him with disdain as he grips the wheel and drives relatively carelessly through the empty streets just to get you out.

After a few minutes more, and by a few you mean around 30, you find yourself in front of a home you’d never think to see again truthfully. As you take in the sight of it, a simple house facing an otherwise unimpactful street, but you held memories of all your years within the confines of these blocks. You were home, after so many years away.

“Get out.”

He says bluntly. The clock shines a bright 1:47 on its dash, signifying that you definitely didn't meet his “before 1” pleas. But damn, could he have been any nicer about it?

You watch as he hops out of the car himself, to the sound of a hard opening of the back that held all your belongings. And as you made your way ever so slowly out of his truck, trying to not fall as the step was coated in the darkness of the night that was no longer politely illuminated by street lights. As you made your way to the concrete below you, rounding his truck was he almost done putting your stuff back out, only on a different curb this time. And without a second to spare, he gets back into his truck, and leaves. Not a word said to you, not even an exchange.

What an asshole.

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

“So you’re telling me, that the man you were with for how many years, kicked you out for what?”

The voice of your childhood friend rang once more through the old walls of the house, in the kitchen where you two sat. this was her family home, one that she now inherited, and one that after many years of silence on your part, she gladly opened up to you as well.

“We were together almost 3 years. And he just, found another girl I guess. But she was in my closet, filled with her clothes. It's as if he’d moved me out overnight. He didn't have a word to say to me, it's like I never even mattered to him. But I've told you this time and time again, what more can I even do at this point?”

She repositions herself with her legs crossing over one another as she looks for a response, taking a sip of coffee before having it dawn on her.

“Today. 3 pm. Uncles holding a barbeque. You remember my uncle right? Everyone will be there. Maybe we could find you a good little rebound to bring you down to earth.”

“Are you- a rebound? Seriously? Is that all you can think of right now?”

“Listen. The only thing you can do with a broken heart is fix it. And that doesn't happen in a day. Least you can do is get something tasty to chase the pain with. Like hot old guys. You’re only 21! This is the prime time to do whatever you want.”

You think for a second. Letting this wash over you as you try and figure out the next thing to do. Do you really doll yourself up after the most traumatic evening of your life is not even 24 hours in your past, just to eye all of your friends older relatives, and family friends that you’ve been ogling at since you were 16?

I mean fuck it, what else are you going to do.

Following your friend up the stairs, she lets out an excited giggle at the prospect of having you back after so many years. There's so many things to tell, different people to see, and subsequently laugh at, but the best of all her skills with a brush have gotten much better since the last time she helped you look good. Much better, apparently for as you looked at yourself in the mirror you could barely recognize the woman looking back at you-- let alone any trace of the girl sat in a torn dress the night before screaming outside her ex’s house.

You put on a pretty yellow dress, adorned with flowers It's hemmed all properly frilled to some level, and the flow of the skirt portion barely getting over your back end does the top also treat you well; a low neck cup to shape your chest perfectly as the daintiness of your outfit, paired with little yellow heels, made you look properly irresistible.

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

“Guess whos backkk!!!”

The excited shrills of your friend beside you make everyone who'd arrived at the party thus far to crane their heads back to look, all of which subsequently smiled with shock as they looked upon you. None of them had seen you since you were 17, about 18 years old. That's when you left, the moment you could. Looking back you missed all of this so much, the community, the story told in every face that looked upon you. But all is lost now and the most you can do is make the best out of the time you have right now-- and as it stands you’re at the center of it all.

They approach you by the droves, asking every question they can that have undoubtedly had rumored answers to in your absence; detailing from where you've been, what you’re doing, where you go to school, where you work, and most hurtful-- how your ex was doing. You briefly told them all that you and him had since parted, and that you were just getting back on track, spending some time at your friend's house in the meantime. They all looked upon you in sympathy, but as more people entered the party the more they dispersed to greet other guests.

“Oh my god, is that who I think it is?”

A low, familiar tone enters the backyard where you stand, and turning around to face you is your friend's father. Who, for most of your life was like a father to you as well. He opens his arms and you follow suit, embracing him in what feels like a much-needed hug, before setting you down again to continue talking to you.

“Oh, honey if, if I'd known you were coming I'd have brought you something. How long has it been since I last saw you? God, you seem so grown up now. It's like I barely even know you.”

His head moves to look behind him for a second, and soon he ushers someone forward to join in the conversation.

“Ah, there's something I'd love for you to meet. This is a good friend of mine, Joel. I haven't had him around any of these much, he just moved back here from Texas a couple weeks back. But he's someone I've known my whole life. Kinda like you and my daughter in a way!”

Though as the man who emerged behind him reared his head, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him, of course, it was him. That asshole that drove you home like you were the greatest burden he's ever had to carry.

“Yer fuckin kidding me.”

He looks at you in shock. Nothing more. However, you see that to his side is a young girl, no older than 12 who seems to be in awe over you. Her hair was tucked into each side of her face to illuminate it in a crown of curls that came to her shoulder and stretched all the way to her ears in volume. She wore a small shark tooth necklace, and some form of singer on her shirt that you didn't recognize.

He-, Joel, looks down at her;

“Sarah how bout you go say hi to your friends for me. I'm gonna be busy a moment”

She runs off, and your friend's dad begins to speak again.

“Do you, know each other from somewhere? I can't imagine you do.”

“She's that insane little girl I told you ‘bout. The one kickin n’ screaming all over the place. Reason why Sarah hadta’ stay the night at your place.”

“The insane little girl?”

You chime in.

“There's no way- Joel, you’ve probably got the wrong girl”

“No, he has the right one.”

You stare directly at him, sending daggers into each of the brown eyes that look back at you.

“He kicked me out of his car at almost 2 in the morning without a single word. Isn't that right?”

Though no matter how piercing your gaze it fails to impact him as it should, for with equal level tone he snipes back;

“Yep, after makin me drive all the way cross’ town just cause she wanted to. Knowin I got someone waitin’ for me. Clearly, something she don't understand all too much anymore.”

That was unnecessary.

Something brews inside of you as you glance upon his finger void of a ring, even a tan that would indicate its recent removal. Though as the only sane-minded person seemingly left to observe watches your eyes as you make such a connection, he swiftly puts an end to it.

“Now, Joel. you know how young girls are they-”

“I'm not that young.”

“Alright well, they. Are just passionate, that's all. She was with him for how many was it now? Three years? Left the moment she turned of age. Clearly she just doesn't know how a mans supposed to be. This is all she really knows.”

This is all she really knows.

That's all that rang through your head as the conversation died and Joel exchanged brief apology. That in a way, he was all you really knew. And now you’re back home, and you don't know what to do with yourself, really. You don't know what you like, or what you don't like. It was all just, him. For so long. You vowed to yourself that day that, no matter what went on you would say yes to anything. To embrace kind of, anything that came your way as some divine fate, or at the very least a fun experience.

As the night droned on, and you fielded the barrage of squeals, hugs from people you don't remember, and a bit more liquor you could've accounted for, the night came to a slow end. Feeling eyes on you constantly was one thing, but feeling the eyes on the man with who’d you'd had a comfortable reunion was even worse in a way. Although, as you looked upon him in your own moments you saw in him something unveiled after the veil of hatred and sorrow fell off of you. Something, interesting about him. Attractive. Obviously nothing you were going to personally indulge in, but an interesting assertion nonetheless. He stood in the light of the evening, fairy lights covering the backyard as it illuminated his now more time-appropriate outfit; one of marginally better jeans and a plaid shirt, rolled to his elbows to reveal what were impressive forearms, and with the proper fit of his shirt, showed an impressive physique for a single dad.

… … …

Thats stupid. Anyways, the night drew to a close and as you saw your friend too wrapped up in the conversation of someone relatively older than her, you decided to take the few blocks walk home, especially since you didn't have a car anymore either. Though as you exit the front door to travel down the sidewalk you hear a familiar accent call out to you after only a few feet have been made distance between you and the doorframe;

“Ya’ walking home this late at night?”

“Yeah, I am. Not like I've got a car do I?”

You turn your body to look at him, but only after you've finished your sentence, using the body language of someone unequipped for any more stupid banter to cue him into leaving you alone.

“How’s about I drive you home. Least I can do after what I’d said today. It wasent quite my place.”

His voice has an unfamiliar tune of sympathy as he lets out that apology of sorts, so you engage. Though, begrudgingly.

“Don’t you have a daughter to take care of? That seemed what got you so mad before.”

He sighs a little, you notice you've hit a bit of a nerve.

“Well, she’ll be stayin' at a friend's place for a few days, really hit it off. Got nothin but time on my hands now.”

“Well in that case I'm not gonna say no to a free ride. Obviously.”

You smile a bit, a first with him. Other than ones of sarcasm, every interaction you've had with him thus far hasn't been all that pleasant. And he smiles back. And, as the light of the moon shines down upon his weathered face, the smirk on his makes your smile grow even more.

Hopping into his car once more, you take the road to your place with a little more enjoyment than how it transpired the night before. This time, the sound of his music accompanied by a hum through his car is what played to fill the silence of the atmosphere. Something old, country, of course. You’d never heard it, and it sounded well beyond even his years. But despite that, there was a comforting air that was shared in the car-- cool air blowing in from the windows rolled down, watching as his arm held on to the side of the car door from the open window, tapping its side in unison to the beat.

“This here is it right?”

Pulling up to your shared home you felt almost a little reluctant to respond with a yes. Though when you do, he steps out of the car as you do as well. You watch as he awaits your circle to the front where he stood, as a means to walk with you to the front of your door. Looking at him curiously as you reach the entrance, he gives response to your motions, though you watch as his fingers fiddle with one another ever so slightly as he poses such a response;

“It ain’t right leaving a lady to walk all by herself after dropping her off. And, I just wanted to say again that it ain't my place makin assumptions about you like that. Wanted to know if I could make it up to ya’. Kinda seems like lifes dealt you a bad hand right now, thought to offer you a drink over it.”

A drink?

You thought about that for a second. The man that kicked you out of his car, literally less than 24 hours ago, is now offering to take you out for a drink. Well, it was as a means for apology. So that's something. Nothing more to it, it's a Southern thing. They drink to anything. Especially sorrow.

“I think I’ll have to take you up on that. You’ll know where I’ll be.”

You reply with a smile that grows just large enough to show your teeth. He gazed at you for a bit longer, as his eyes grew brighter at the prospect of an invitation accepted. He was a lot less harsh than meets the eye, it seemed. But you still weren't properly convinced. And, there was still much a mystery about him that although intimidated you, enticed you even more. You cock your hip to the side of the doorframe, leaning up against it as he spoke to you as a means to accentuate your figure just a bit as he looked at you. Just to see what would happen.

“Oh, alright then. 7 alright with you? I’ll come pick you up course’.”

“Seven’s more than alright with me. I'll see you then, Joel.”

As you bid farewell to him, you watched as his eyes tracked your movements as you did so. The way your hips have shifted place, the tone at which your voice shifted ever so slightly. He took in your gaze, a small cat eye that sharpened your eyes paired with the sly smile of a woman your age was enough to catch his stare for a moments longer than it should've. You relished in that.

He leaves you off with a nod and a smile, though you take the time that he walks back to his truck as a means to take in all that he was without interruption. He was handsome, to say the least. There was something to be said about a man with southern hospitality and an ass made from manual labor that reached deeper into a realm of attraction that was often untapped by the men of your age range. And you enjoyed greatly that you’d discovered such a thing.

Tomorrow, 7pm, Joel.

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