#goodbye stranger have a wonderful and sweet day!!!
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sunskisser · 5 months ago
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light | bucky barnes
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bucky barnes x sunshine!reader; neighbour au — ★ 1k words
summary: bucky meets you, his bright, new neighbour, and is instantly endeared
tw: nothing, tooth-rotting fluff <3
a/n: first time writing for bucky… please be nice 🥲 consider this my official letter of intent into the mcu fandom on tumblr LOL
Ding dong! Bucky is quick to get to the door, abandoning his attempts at brewing coffee. The espresso machine Sam had gotten him sits sadly on the kitchen platform, likely broken from the looks of the dented knob and crooked buttons. Some things he could get a hang of easily — appliances were not one of them, and neither was using his metal arm with gentleness. He’d have to try and fix it back up later.
He pulls the door open, pleasantly surprised to see you standing there, with your twinkling eyes and sweet smile. Bucky hadn’t known what love felt like in a long, long time. But he thought the ache in his heart when he first saw you came dangerously close to it.
His first encounter with you was a couple of days ago, when he was just moving in. Dr. Raynor had told him that a move would be good for him, giving him a chance to have a fresh start. Bullshit. The only thing he’d gotten out of the new neighbourhood so far was a headache because of the sweltering heat, and a pulled muscle in his arm — the non-metal one — from hauling boxes up the stairs to his apartment.
He was busy cursing his therapist under his breath when you showed up, like some sort of angel in his plight. You jogged over to him brightly, hand wrapped around the leash of a fluffy brown dog. Bucky’s first instinct was to push you away when you offered to help. But you were persistent, and he gave in on account of shutting you up.
Your smile had widened immediately, and he remembered wondering how anyone could be so happy to help a stranger.
He couldn’t have been more wrong. Your enthusiasm only grew with each minute you spent together. It was like you couldn’t stop chattering — asking him where he was from, how long he was going to stay, and everything else under the sun. He hadn’t asked, but he got to know a lot about you too. He now knew you worked in a clinic near the neighbourhood, you lived alone with your dog (whose name was Milo), and that you weren’t particularly close to any family.
Bucky couldn’t help but soften more and more by the second. You were incredibly endearing, all soft smiles and loud laughter. It was like catching the first glimpses of morning light after being locked up in darkness for a lifetime, and frankly, he was smitten. You told him that you lived a few floors up and that you’d be back to visit soon. When you held Milo’s paw in your hand, the dog all bundled up in your arms, and waved him the most adorable little goodbye, he knew he was gone.
He was more than happy to see you on his front door today. You were all dolled up, pink tube top with a frilly white skirt. He couldn’t help the smile that quirked his lips. “Hey.”
“Hi!” you chirp, already digging into your bag for something. Bucky eyes you with an arched eyebrow as you pull out a Tupperware box, handing it to him excitedly. “Brownies.”
“For me?” He hesitantly takes it from you, surprised. There’s a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach.
You step into the house as he pulls the door open wider, confirming it with a nod. “Yeah, for you. Baked them myself.”
“Oh.” He clears his throat, closing the door behind you. No one’s ever done something like this for him before, niceness for the hell of it. It makes him want to pull you into a hug. “Thank you.”
“It’s no problem at all,” you brush him off, flashing him a small smile before turning your attention to his living room. He watches as you peruse the place curiously, eyes darting all over before landing on the espresso machine. “So, James…” you start unsteadily as you walk towards the kitchen.
Bucky lets out a huff of laughter. “James? Where’d you get that?”
“I asked the security guard downstairs about you, didn’t let him off till he told me your name,” you smile sheepishly, twirling your curls around your finger. “He said it was James Buka… Bucha…”
“James Buchanan Barnes,” he interrupts with a fond sort of amusement. “Bucky for short.”
“Bucky,” you repeat with a giggle. “Cute. I like it. Also, do you need help with this?” You gesture at the smoking coffee machine, spilt puddles of the liquid dotting the kitchen platform.
“Oh, um,” he shrugs, a light pinkness dusting his cheeks. “Sure.” He watches as you grab a new mug and pour some milk into the machine. Your tongue juts out adorably as you click the buttons concentratedly. “What’s yours?”
“Y/n,” you mutter, straightening up proudly as the brown liquid starts to spout into the mug. You turn to him with an accomplished grin. “It’s working.”
“Thank you,” he chuckles, heart squeezing in his chest when you give him a wink. “Y/n. That’s a pretty name.”
Bucky swears he can see the blush on your cheeks, but it’s hard to make out with your back turned to him. You busy yourself with wiping the spilt coffee, but he hears the smile in your voice when you thank him.
You hand him his coffee before grabbing one yourself, making yourself comfortable on his couch. He leans against the platform as he talks to you.
Surprisingly, you’re not as chatty today. Perhaps you were more comfortable around him, feeling less of a need to fill the silence. He tells you about the war when you point to a picture on the wall, one from the 40s, in which his arm is slung around Steve’s shoulder. He’s glad you don’t ask about Steve.
Soon, you make to leave. “I have an appointment with a friend,” you smile apologetically as you stand, dusting yourself off. “This was fun, though.”
Bucky nods and walks you to the front door, pulling it open. “It was.”
“See you around sometime?” you ask hopefully as you pull your heels on.
He softens, voice tinged with affection. “Sure. Why don’t you come over for lunch tomorrow, if you’re free?”
“Really?” you beam. “Great. I’ll be here.”
You call out to Bucky as you make your way to the stairs, vigorously waving your hand in farewell. He gives you a small wave in return, trying his best not to smile.
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muzansfangs · 4 months ago
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Il nome mio nessun saprà (no one will know my name).
Starring: The Salesman x f!reader; Seong Gi-hun x f!reader (platonic relationship); mention to Cho Sang-woo and Hwang Jun-ho;
Format: multi-chapters story;
Warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, angst, harrassment, the reader is European (italian to be specific), use of cigarettes, alcohol consumption, death, grieving, violence, blood, stalking, slight manipulation, age gap (reader is twenty-one);
Plot: enrolling in Law School in a foreign country was decidely a risky choice to make. Still, you had no one holding you back, but a wholesome reason to leave. Your late mother had eventually decided to disclose the truth about your biological father and now you were coping with the primordial yearning of finding him. You only had his name, a photograph and the rumor he probably still lived in South Korea. You spent months searching for him in Seoul, focusing on your studies until the night veiled the sky. And it was exactly during a rather uneventful saturday night that you luckily bumped in a stranger with a tailored suit and a everlasting eerie smile on his face. Brazenly, your eyes pleaded him to save you, to give you an alibi, and he did. Something blossomed between you two. But you did not know that the very man who had pulled the strings of your heart was soon going to screw up your entire life.
masterlist | to the next chapter
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[𝟎𝟎𝟏] 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚��𝐚𝐠𝐞.
You had not inherited any physical trait of him. The more you intently scrutinized the old photo of that stranger, your father, the harder it was believing you were his biological daughter. Born from a wild one- night stand of your late mother and that smiling korean man, who apparently had played his cards well enough to make that sweet tourist agree to spend the night in his company, you were now wondering why your mother even decided to give birth to you, raise you alone and, above all, why she did not bother contacting him to let him know he had a daughter in Europe. Tormenting yourself with a bunch of ‘what ifs’ was pointless. It was too late to ask such questions and no one could provide you logical answers anyway. You did not feel like pressing your mother, during the last days of her life, and your grandparents had died long before she confessed the identity of your father.
All you had to do was dealing with the empiric evidence of her shenanigans: your very existence and the picture of that man.
You had grieved her death alone, keeping your promise to look out for yourself and chase your dreams. It was the least you could do to show your gratitude to her for having sacrificed her own projects and aspirations to give you a decent life, a better future. The funeral was the hardest part. No relatives were around. To keep you company and deposit flowers by her grave there were just a couple of her friends and some of your old classmates: people who you had to say goodbye to, on your way out of the cemetery. Cutting ties was the best thing to do. You left the same night for starting a new life. The last thing you remembered before falling asleep on the plane were the droplets of rain streaming over the cold glass of the window.
The first chapter of your story was chaotic. Your mother was gone, you had enrolled in the Seoul Law School and were busy searching the city for your father. You had wisely started your hunt from the area your mother had told you she had met him at. You struggled communicating with the locals at first. Most of the people did not seem to understand you, or did not give a damn iota about you. However, you were fluent in English and some of the Korean students at the Campus were helping you out. They had taught you the basic sentences to use to survive, made sure you learned which trains to take to travel around, when you were alone, and some tactics to defend yourself from the native creeps. You gradually adapted to your new life-style. Summarizing the first months of your adventure, you could proudly say it was not going as bad as you had figured on the plane to Seoul. Whilst you were making new friends and growing familiar with some areas of the city, you began to cross off from the map the parks and streets you had looked for him throughout days and nights.
Your map was painted red.
Alas, though, you also soon began to lose hope on the chance to meet your father. When you successfully engaged in a seemingly good conversation with the owners of a restaurant, or pub, you were unable to provide them more informations about the man you were looking for. His name was Seong Gi-hun, he had hooked up with your mother when he was a rampant twenty-six-years-old man with a radiant smile and he bragged about a brilliant friend of his: Cho Sang-woo.
Too bad no one seem to know nor your father, neither the smartass he had befriended long ago.
Defeated, after another uneventful night, you were dragging your feet along the sidewalk, hoping to reach the right underground line to go back to your dorm. It was two in the morning, drunk people swayed around you in the cramped streets, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol permeated the air and you scrunched up your nose in disgust, careful not to step on the sharp, glimmering splinters of the umpteenth smashed bottle on your way. Despite that, it was not like you were not used to see the same scanario back in Europe as well. What probably left you uncomfortable was most likely the fact you could still hardly comprehend the language, let alone the slang, and you were wary of your surroundings. You felt like a mouse fallen in a pit of vipers.
You had almost made it to your destination, when you turned the corner and, unfortunately, were face to face with a group of snickering guys, beers in hands, leering at any woman passing by.
Well, crap. Odds were not in your favor.
Frantically, you whipped your head around, narrowing your eyes in search for an alternative road to take. Venturing further into the unknown was just as bad as proceeding that way. You could already sense the sickening feeling of their smoldering gazes on your frame and you were one hundred percent sure some of them had already noticed you standing a few feet away from them. You usually had a good sense of self-preservation, confiding both in your knowledge and your conscience. You were already doomed that night. Why had you even declined your new friend’s invitation to a party to explore a huge city you barely knew by night and, to cap it all, alone? That was the first mistake of the night. Waves of insults to your inexplicable stupidity began to pester your mind, the moment you took a sharp intake of breath and sped up to leave that group of men at your back.
The wolf-whistles piercing your ears did not make you falter. You kept your head high, eyes directed to the sign indicating entrace to the underground. Naively, you thought those folks were merely scaring off lonely women, you hoped they had no further purpose but that. Your stomach churned, upon hearing heavy footsteps approaching you from behind. How many of them were stalking you down? One, maybe two people at best. Regardless, you refused to glance above your shoulder.
“Hey! Do you speak English?” a voice asked you, the amused undertone making the hair on the back of your neck stand in fright. One. It was just one out of five, you tried to reassure yourself. If you just kept on marching to the platform and the train made it in time, you had a good chance to give the felon the slip.
Your lack of response and reaction made him chuckle darkly and you swore your heart was desperately attempting to break your ribcage and jump out of your chest. Like Hell you wanted to die like that. All you had to do was pretending he was not there.
You had begun to tear down the stairs, when you felt his hand enclosing your elbow and his large body glueing to your hip. Invading your personal space with no regards of limits made you see red. You scoffed, finally shooting an annoyed glance at the grinning stranger, who had abruptly forced you to stop in your tracks.
“Let me go” you quipped, ungraciously wriggling your arm to get free. His grip on you only tightened and you bit the insides of your cheeks not to wince in pain.
The guy beamed, tugging you closer to him once again, ecstatic about your determination and combative spirit “Oh, so you do speak English! — he began, wiggling his eyebrows up annoyingly, the stench of tobacco in his breath causing a scowl to cross your face — Where are you from, darling? France? Germany? England?”.
You snorted, jaw clenching, as you uncomfortably let your eyes flit downstairs to spot a potential source of help from someone on the platform. Much to your dismay, there was only a sleeping, battered old man, hand clutching some money in his hands for dear life. He did not look like he even had a home. How curious was it that you were busying yourself wondering how did he even own such a conspicuous amount of money, if his clothes were dirty and tattered? He had probably robbed someone.
Or so you supposed.
“My boyfriend is waiting for me downstairs! I do not think he will be happy to see what you are doing to me” you blurted out firmly, flashing a warning gaze at your aggressor, hoping he was going to desist from pesting you further. For a split second, you swore his eyes widened, contemplating whether you were bluffing, or actually giving him a possibility to escape a beating from your mysterious boyfriend.
You truly did your best in showcasing a confident attitude. Too bad he did not believe a word you had said and nudged you to walk down to the platform, rudely spitting on your shoes “Yeah? Where’s the lucky bastard? Let’s go meet him, okay?” he taunted you, pushing you down the remaining steps without thinking twice.
You squeaked out in fear, miraculously landing on your feet and quickly straightening your jacket, as you found back your balance. You hesitantly raised your face, glossy eyes inspecting the length of the platform to look for help. A cop, maybe. But no officer wandered down the underground at that time. It was late. No one was there.
No one, but a tall man in a fancy tailored suit and a suitcase in his hand. After all, odds were in your favor. You did not have much time ponder your decision. Briefly, you studied him. He was clearly older than you, there was a chance he actually spoke English and could connect the dots at your senseless words. You had no other choice, in the end. You gave it your best shot. A shuddery breath left your lips, as you pointed at the tall man and made sure that thug followed your gaze. Lying was not in your style. However, you knew that the basic animal instinct of striving to survive was kicking in.
You smiled, genuinely even, feeling the muscles of your cheeks stretching in a loving, enthusiastic smile directed to the stranger. He had caught a glimpse of you in his peripheral. How could he not, when you had practically been shoved downstairs and had landed in such an unladylike fall? Something was off. And he knew it, he could see it in the shimmering tears prickling your eyes, when you opened your arms and snuggled against his chest, as if you two were meant to meet.
His masculine cologne ungulfed you, one calloused hand threading through your hair, surprisingly not to yank you off of him. And in that instant, you knew you were safe. A stranger had harassed you and a stranger was saving your life. You closed your eyes, reluctantly pulling away from the tall man to meet his eyes. Two dark pools of ink met your eyes, swallowing you whole as he smiled back down at you. Dear God, he was handsome. Unbelievably good-looking. Probably too handsome to be real and you foolishly asked yourself if you had been shot dead by the felon and had just landed in Heaven.
“He’s my boyfriend” you finally stated, though, bashfully pulling your gaze off of your savior’s face to meet the other guy’s gaze. The nightmare was not over yet.
Hands tucked in the pockets of his ripped jeans, he snorted, eyeing you two suspiciously. Unexpectedly, before any of you could say another word, the old man who was napping on the platform groggily stood up and stared at you in total shock.
His face was horrified, unsteady steps leading him next to the arrogant guy who had hollered at you a few moments ago. The man tried to usher him out of the station, all the while slurring indistinct korean words you failed to both catch and understand. The younger one clearly did not appreciate whatever the tramp had told him and knocked him down with a punch straight on his nose. You shrieked, hand clasped over your mouth, as the thug dashed away and stared at the bleeding man on the floor.
He was still alive, thankfully, and you began to fumble in your bag for a tissue to hand him. The man in a suit, however, anticipated you and walked towards the drunk man grumbling on the floor. Once again, the two of them cut you out of the conversation by speaking korean. This time around, though, you were able to understand something along the lines of ‘change the station, he will come back for you’.
“Can I help you somehow?” you shyly asked, intruppting them, as you watched the man wipe the blood off of his face and the tall guy turn his attention back on you.
He smiled, again. Actually, you did not seem to recall a moment he had stopped smiling. You shivered, eyes darting away from him not to expose yourself and your evident attraction towards him. He really had no reason to be that attractive.
“I should be the one asking you that. Are you alright, miss?” he inquired, keeping a comfortable distance between you two. How considerate of him sparing you the embarrassment of more unsolicited physical contact with him, after you had literally buried your face in his chest like an ostrich would with the sand. You thought he probably must have felt a great amount of discomfort at holding you in his arms protectively.
You nodded your head, glad to see he could speak English as well “I am good, thanks for asking… And for your help too. I did not mean to be a burden” you apologized, bowing your head to excuse yourself once again.
“It’s nothing. I did not have to get rid of that man, did I? — he replied casually, straighening his tie absentmindedly with his free hand — I can not help, though, but wonder why a foreign girl is down the streets, all by herself, in the dead of the night. It’s dangerous” he reasoned, his tight smile pinning you on the spot once again. Well, he was right.
Also, it was only natural for an older man to question a girl that could have probably been his daughter about her disputable choices.
“I know! I’ve been reckless… But I think young and desperate people make such mistakes, once in a while” you vaguely said, shrugging, and transfixing your gaze on the rails to avoid his cold eyes.
You did not expect the conversation to continue. You blinked skeptically, when he fed the flame.
“Desperate, you say? What troubles might gnaw at a young girl’s stomach, besides graduation and dating?” he queried your assertion, seemingly interested in your story. A late night talk with a stranger in a desolate underground was not exectly how you expected your exploration to end. He did not seem to have ill intentions. He was probably just a tired man working in a bank, or a CEO of some important company, waiting for his train to go and get some well-deserved rest. At least, that is what you thought judging from his sophisticated way to carry himself and the cocky aura he radiated.
You exhaled softly through your nose, a melancholic smile curving your lips “Well, it’s… It’s complicated. I’ve just moved to Korea. I remember wanting to study aboard since I was a kid. — you began, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, one of the habits you did not seem ready to get rid of — And I’m glad to be here, don’t get me wrong. The thing is I’ve chosen this Country because I was told my biological father lives here” you admitted, folding your arms against your chest protectively.
Honesty. A virtue to pursue, but a fatal flaw, when you meet a wolf in sheep clothing.
“I see. Let me guess, you found him and he is far from the man you expected him to be?”.
“Nothing like that. I can’t find him”.
A few seconds of silence blanketed the station. Opening up to a stranger you deemed to be a decent man was weird per se. You were aware of it. However, loneliness probably was starting to get the best of you. An adult figure to confide in was everything you needed but did not have. Maybe this was the main reason why you relentlessly searched for your father. Family was important to you.
The man hummed. The next thing you knew he was standing closer, head cocked to the side and a gentle expression on his face “You look discouraged. It is understable. — he began, the shadow of a smirk creasing his lips — How many informations you have about him?” he asked you then, causing you to shake your head and reach for his picture in your small bag.
You flipped it around, hopelessly wishing in a positive feedback, to show it to him “This picture, his name and that he had a smart friend: Cho Sang-woo”.
For a moment, you thought he actually had an answer to provide you, or a suggestion. Unfortunately, he lowered his gaze and shook his head. Obviously, you were back to the start. Pushing your luck was all you could do to solve the puzzle.
“This time around, I can’t really help you. You should probably hire a private detective” he suggested you flatly, locking eyes with you as you two heard the familiar toot of the train entering the station.
You let out a bitter laughter “Non tutti sono ricchi come te¹” you whispered under your breath, confiding your native language could somehow conceal your demotivation and financial issues. All you had was enough to simply take care of your carreer. You could not afford to pay a man to track down your father.
The sliding doors opened and you entered the train, slightly taken aback by the fact he did not. What the Hell was he even doing there? He stood right in front of you, back straight as a ramrod, hand raising to wave at you with his trademark smirk. You furrowed your eyebrows, lips parting to say your goodbye, when his reply left you speechless.
“Buona fortuna ² ”.
Colors drained from your face the moment he made it loud and clear he spoke italian. Your mortified expression might have spoken volumes, for he quirked his eyebrows up and nodded his head in your direction. When the doors closed, you slumped onto an empty seat, glad you were probably not going to meet that handsome man ever again in your life. What a disgraceful day it had been. Especially for that drunk man you had totally forgotten about, lost in your train of thoughts.
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Nearly two weeks later, you were gawking at a letter in your mailbox. Someone knew your address, your name and the fact you were looking for your father. Your hands were shaking, fingertips running over the texture of the paper, nails scraping it in a comforting sound. You could not deny your head began to spin and you were forced to curl yourself up in a ball over your small bed. The black capital letters standing out on the white card in front of you were truly a manna from Heaven, but for all you knew it could have been also a letter from the haunts of Hell.
No one knew you were looking for Cho Sang-woo and Seong Gi-hun. No one, really. Not even your new friends from the courses you had signed up to were that well-informed. There was only one person who knew those name, but you highly doubted he even recalled them. And, additionally, he did not know yours. Merely thinking about that stud made a sense of uneasiness set in your stomach. You had hugged him out of no where, you had undirectly labeled him as a filthy, selfish rich man who had money to throw away. Gosh, you felt so miserable and humiliated when he had talked back to you effortlessly in your own language. He had left quite the impression on you. Then again, he did not give off the vibes of a delinquent.
Now, however, it was not the right time to daydream about him. To distract yourself from reminiscing about your mistakes, you focused on the dossier you had received.
“Cho Sang-woo, age fourty-six. Investment banker at the Joy Investments. He usually arrives at his workplace around eight o’clock in the morning”.
Well, this man was not your father. However, some informations about where to find his so-called best friend could help anyway. There was a high possibility Mr. Cho was still in touch with him and therefore he could give you his address. You wished you could thank whoever had sent you that letter, but the pacakge was unsigned. Your savior seemed to want to remain incognito. Savior. That word sound bittersweet, giving the circumstances. The mysterious person that had sent those informations had been, without the shadow of a doubt, watching you, eavesdropping your conversations, stalking you. The mere idea of someone sneaking in your dorm, when you were fast asleep, or when you were attending your classes sent frissons over your skin. You refused to even picture a hooded stranger following you around. Something did not quite make sense, though.
If you had a stalker, why was he helping you out?
You huffed, fingers running through your hair in distress, as you ultimately decided to both make good use of the informations you had received and protect yourself from any potential threat lurking in the shadows.
The following day, you were sipping on a coffee in your new friend’s car. Hwang Ju-ho, a young cop who had taken pity on you, when you had just landed in Seoul and had no idea of where to go, or how to reach your destination. He had been kind to you, even leaving you his number in case you needed something. And you did.
“Let me get this straight. You have been asking random people around Seoul if they knew your father, or this Cho Sang-woo for three months straight?” he asked you, pulling over in a still empty parking lot. The sky was grey, the drizzle was becoming a downpour and you had not bothered to take an umbrella with you. Bad decision, undoubtedly.
“Exactly” you shortly commented, head lolling against the headrest of the passenger seat. You were drained, as of late. Studying hard for learning the local language and keeping up with yours courses was consuming you to the bone. Your lack of sleep was the cherry on top. You wondered when your body was going to give up and you finally reached the infamous burn-out.
Ju-ho rested his forearms on the top of the steering wheel, dark eyes scanning the horizon “And yesterday you found an anonymous letter in your mailbox with your father’s friend data in it?” he pressed again, earning a soft hum of approval from you.
You had not revealed too many informations to him about Cho Sang-woo, except for the fact he worked in the modern building in a part of the city you had yet to visit and that you had reached out for him to help you out. You had improved your Korean, therefore you did not even need his assistance in communicating with the so-called genius of the Department of Economics of Seoul. The small picture of him, a polaroid, you had found in the package along the letter showed a distinguished man with square glasses, an impeccable suit and a cold look in his eyes. Hopefully, he was not an asshole.
You had already thought about what to ask him and how. Allegedly, you were more than ready, enthusiastic at the idea of finally having a chance to find your dad. You wondered if he was a good man and if he had his own new family. In that case, was he going to accept you in his life?
Your mind went back to that unglorious night, to the man in a suit and his question: “Let me guess, you found him and he is far from the man you expected him to be?”.
No. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Deep down, you hoped to have a heartwarming reunion with your father, one of those cliché, stereotypical scenes you had watched countless times in the movies. You had deeply craved a father figure in your life. Time passed, though, and, albeit you did not grow up with your dad, your dream to look at a man and call him ‘dad’ never diminished in you. At the end of the day, you were still the innocent little girl who asked Santa to let you meet your father. However he was, wherever he was.
To interrupt yout stream of consciousness was Ju-ho, clearing his throat “If you don’t want me to help you, why am I here? I could take care of this pretty easily, you know?” he said, leaning his back on the seat and glancing at you in curiosity.
“You are helping me. I needed a lift and someone to watch my back. You are here and this is more than enough for me to be grateful to you” you promptly said, right before you caught a glimpse of a man in a black suit and matching umbrella heading towards the entrance of the building. There he was: Cho Sang-woo, tall and confident, following the routine the snout had indicated in the letter.
You quickly exchanged a knowing look with Ju-ho, before opening the car door and jogging towards your father’s best friend. It was pouring and, in a matter of seconds, you were soaked. Your hair were stuck on your face, forehead, neck. Your clothes clinging to your body uncomfortably made it hard to speed up more.
Eventually, though, you caught up with him. His dark eyes met yours, so wide and full of hope. You were a panting mess, hands wiping away the droplets of water falling from your lashes, as he stared you down wearily. Who exactly were you? A foreigner, that much was pretty evident.
“Sir! Do you have a minute?” you started, hand already diving in your bag to retrive your father’s photo. He had no time to waste and you honestly wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.
“Who are you? I have no money this month. I have already—”.
Money? You frowned, shaking your head, before showing him the picture of your father, tearful eyes boring into his ones, so unaffected and devoid of emotions. He seemed tense, you would have even dared to say agitated and you were blaming it on the fact he was being held back by a stranger before he could go to work.
“You’re Cho Sang-woo, right? — you asked, blinking quickly to clear your vision — Do you know this man? He’s my dad… I’m looking for him! You were friends, or so I’ve been told by my mother” you fretted to explain, perfectly knowing you were sounding like a maniac.
You did not resemble your dad in the slightest. Sang-woo gazed into your eyes, then at the photograph you were holding before him. Reading this man was impossible. He blankly stared at you, shutting you out of his head. The silence probably lasted a few seconds, before he degnified you with a dry answer.
“Go back home, kid” he dispassionately stated, resuming his walk without sparing you a glance.
But you had no home to go back to. You were looking for a place to call home, for a person to feel like home. You refused to accept such a refusal. This man could obviously help you, but he was downright choosing to ignore you. Were you so undeserving of a father?
“I don’t have a home anymore, sir! — you called after him, standing right where you were, gaze on the cobblestone — Please, I really need to find my father. He’s all I have now. He’s all that is left of… Of my family” you admitted, hating how your voice cracked upon realizing you indeed had nothing else besides the hope to be reunited with your biological dad.
Sang-woo halted, his back facing you as he seemed to elaborate what you had just said. Each second passing without an answer hurt you, so much that the droplets of water splashing on your face, on your clothes felt like boiling lava sizzling your skin.
Maybe, your life was about to change. Your destiny was all in this man’s hands.
“He already has a family. If you love your father, you should keep your distance. He lived perfectly fine without you until now. Would you really want to disrupt his peace and bear the burden of having ruined his life?” he deadpanned, before walking off with your shattered heart in his hand and leaving a desolation behind him.
The only audible sound was the rain pattering against the parked cars, over your skin, on the skyscrapers. It hurt. It hurt immensely. You wondered if, amidst the soothing sound of the water cascading steadily from the sky, Cho Sang-woo had heard a far way different sound. The horrible noise of a fragile heart exploding into splinters so tiny they could not be put together again.
Your first impulse was to chase after him, shout at his face you deserved to be happy too, that this was not his damn business. Your feet, though, did not move. They were glued to the ground, they were one thing with the asphalt. Your fingers twitched, your father’s photograph slipping through them, landing on a puddle.
The following days went on monotonously. You no longer bothered searching for him. Even if you knew Mr. Cho had no saying in your life, he had truly left you with so many doubts and, maybe, he had a point. If your father was happy, you had no right to destroy his life, his relationship with his wife and traumatize your step-siblings. All you did was studying, bonding with your classmates and, occasionally, joining them to some parties.
It was once again a Saturday night, when you found yourself in a discotheque. The famous Nb2 Club, located in Hongdae, was swarmed with people dancing. Most of them were drunk, out of their minds, fornicating with strangers. You, on the other hand, were not really in the good state of mind to drink your problems away. After a single shot to celebrate the birthday girl, you had incessantly tried to find an excuse to leave. Unfortunately, though, you had been dragged to the dance floor and you were now desperately trying to districate yourself out of that sea of tipsy people swaying around.
The neon lights in the dimly illuminated room made it hardly feasible to individuate the exit. You kept on pushing people around, elbowing your way to the stairs, until you whipped your head around and you froze solid.
This must have been an hallucination.
Or this is the lie you told yourself, when a flash of red lights flickered over a man in a suit. A man you knew. A man you did not expect to run into once again, especially in place like this. Your life was an entire circus.
You were petrified, more out of shock, than the embarrassment you had felt during your first encounter. You had thought about it for days, unable to get that stupid grin of his out of your head. You blinked, skeptically staring at that shadow, until the man was struck by the light again. You had even approached him, standing only a palm away from his towering figure, as you found out once again that he was already grinning down at you. Bloody Hell, he was really there.
Your fake boyfriend for a night. The man you had insulted, hoping he did not speak italian.
“Buonasera, signorina ³” he greeted you, cold sweat collecting in the back of your neck, as you stupidly looked up at him.
You did not even have an idea of how you had successfully heard him, but you did. Handsome as the last time you had met him, he did not have his briefcase with him, but he had opted for yet another set of suit and tie. You sighed, darting your eyes away in nervousness. You did not feel underdressed this time. Still, your choice of clothes was what your roommate had labeled as ‘dressed to kill any man’.
You were showing a lot of cleavage and your short black dress barely reached your upper thighs.
“What are you doing here?” you asked him then, careful to ignore his provocation.
“I could ask you the same question, ma’am. Hopefully, you are not chasing down your father alone again”.
You rolled your eyes, gesturing at your high heels “Fair enough. To answer your question, definitely not. I was actually trying to leave this place. My feet are stinging” you decided to say, noticing his dark eyes travelling down your form, before factually inspecting your feet.
He smiled again “By sheer coincidence, I was leaving too. I had a business meeting, but it’s concluded. Would you like for me to lead you out of here? I know about a secondary exit easy to reach” he suggested, chivalrously holding his hand out for you to grasp.
This was hazardous, but he seemed to be genuine. Just like that Saturday night. He had saved you, he had been polite. Only a little too cocky, but not mischivious. Once out, you could always call a taxi and go back to your dorm. You decided to trust him, your smaller hand gripping his delicately as you glanced at your group of friends one last time, before nodding at him.
“Please, lead the way” you agreed, a faint smile gracing your red-painted lips, as he glared at a couple of people occupying the access to a corridor and walked past them without any qualms of the possible consequences.
You just followed him, inhaling deeply as he opened a door and let you step outside first. The chilly air of the night bit your skin, goosebumps raising on your flesh as you folded your arms against your chest to warm yourself up out of reflex. You were suprisingly at the end of the line of people waiting to enter, fortunately already on the main street. You sighed, turning towards him with yet another small smile on your lips.
“Thanks. Apparently, you have a knack for saving me in different situations” you noted, bowing your head a little, as he closed the door behind himself.
The businessman straightened his back “Perhaps. — he replied, eyeing your shivering form in interest — What are you going to do now?”.
“Just calling a taxi and spending the rest of the night at my dorm”.
“A taxi? It’s pretty late. We’re at Hongdae. I don’t think there’s a driver available, miss. — he reasoned, hand slithering into the pocket of his slacks, a clinking sound catching your attention — My car’s parked nearby. I could easily drive you home” he offered, dark eyes devouring yours in a subtle dance of attraction. He was way too discreet and smooth, but you were not a fool.
He had not said anything compromising, yet he had piqued your interest and, definitely, your whole attention. The question was: did you want to play along? Probably, it was not a good idea. He was older, more than twenty years older than you. Still, he had been kind to you. He had offered you protection that night, he had helped you out of the disco. He was charming. And, admittedly, you were also touch-starved and, horribly, lonely.
But you knew he was not going to do anything for free.
You looked at your feet, nervously sinking your foreteeth in your bottom lip “Where’s the catch?”.
He tilted his head to the side, pulling his hand holding the keys out of his pocket “I wouldn’t call it a ‘catch’. But, actually, I was hoping to treat you with a glass of fine wine. Obviously, if you agree” he confessed, not batting an eye and awaiting patiently for you to make up your mind.
Wine. Alone with him.
“Where?” you asked him then, heart inexplicably skipping a beat the moment shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders and elegantly draped it over your naked ones. His cologne, just like that night, pierced your nostrils and you let out an imperceptible sigh at the comforting feeling of someone actually looking out for you.
“My apartment”.
Shit. Well, you knew the risks of following a man home. But you were young, free, with some experience at your back. Why not letting loose once ever in your life?
“And the brand of the wine?” you inquired, only for him to smile wider at you. He was effortlessly handsome.
“What about a Chianti? I’m sure you know this one”.
“Don’t make me regret it”.
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You had not really paid attention to the road. He drove you safely to yet another part of the city you were not familiar with, charming you with his impeccable portamento behavior and a refined taste in music. He knew some italian words because he liked Opera.
You spent the time in the car listening to Rossini, Verdi and Puccini. Gradually, you relaxed in his presence and, before you knew it, you were sitting on the leather couch of his living room. A goblet of half-finished Chianti in your hand, you were conversing with him about your struggles to adapt to the Country.
Talking to him was easy. Too easy. Were you really that surprised you even told him about your progresses with your research for your father? Not really.
“The main issue was the language. Not everyone speaks English and… You are the only person I have met who understands some italian” you told him, watching him swirl the remaining wine in his goblet absent-mindedly.
He had loosened his necktie, the jacket he had lended to you now discarded on armrest of the sofa. His dark eyes glinted in something you failed to fully comprehend. He did not seem inhebriated, not yet. But rather passionate, as he took a sip from his glass before settling it down on the glass coffee table at his feet.
You mimicked his actions, tiredly accomodating yourself against the soft backrest. He hummed, shifting on his seat and deliberately sliding closer to you. Your head was reclined, the illumination casting enticing shadows over his face. You felt almost ashamed for the desire you felt for him, for a complete stranger.
“You have improved in Korean, though. Practice leads to progresses— he noted, his hot breath wafting over your face like a gloved stroke on your cheek — Aren’t you dying to go back to Mr. Cho and tell him in a perfect Korean that he is not in the position to judge you?”.
You chuckled this time, eyes closing “If I were to do that, I would not be that polite and formal”.
“But elegance suits you, ma’am. Foul language is not necessary to manifest your anger” he chided you, probably in paternalistic way you found odd, but not out of place.
“Homicide is illegal” you pointed out, your sarcasm and dark humor rolling out of your tongue like your second language.
He hesitated for a split second, his lips curving in a smirk at your remark. He glanced at his wristwatch briefly, before his eyes searched for yours again “It’s three in the morning. Would you like for me to take you back home?”.
He was giving you a choice. He had not touched you inappropriately, he had merely sat close to you, offered you wine, let you take some pent up frustration out by listening to your story silently. He had been an absolute gentleman. Maybe, this was the reason why you scooted even closer to him, hand gently resting over his to stop him.
Your noses brushed together, tentatively experimenting what it would have felt like to breathe him in. He reached his hand up, cupping your cheek and angling your head in a optimal position to let your lips lock. You held your breath, half-lidded eyes boring into his, dilated, lust filled.
“Is that a no?”.
You swallowed thickly “Affermative, sir”.
He hummed, tongue sweeping out of his mouth to lick your lips, tasting you, before finally opening his mouth and involving you in a slow, intimate kiss you had long forgotten could give butterflies to your stomach. He was a good kisser. His large free hand travelling down your curves, squeezing you hip to prompt you to straddle his lap.
You did not break the kiss, a soft moan leaving your mouth, when he bucked his hips up and pressed you down on his crotch.
“How far can I go?” he asked you huskily, your spine arching when he began to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your neck.
Oh, sweet God, you had lost your capacity of speaking.
Rolling your hips down to meet his movements, you whined and ran your fingers through his thick hair, pulling on the strands as he raised the hem of your skirt to expose your lower regions entirely.
“I don’t mind…” you mumbled, flicking your gaze down to meet his black-pitch orbs. You were screwed.
His hand slipped hastily beneath the fabric of your underwear, deft fingers seeking and finding your clitoris. He flicked it expertily, groaning softly at your wetness coating his digits. You were soaked, needy whimpers of pleasure escaping your parted lips as you felt your hole clenching around nothing, until he began to tease the entrance.
You cried out in bliss, his index sliding in without meeting resistance, soon followed by a second finger. The stretch was good, nothing compared to your own touch or the ones from your previous partners. He knew what pace drove you insane, what you liked, your body language was the equivalent of an opened book to him.
“Flawless” he whispered in your ear.
You wanted to moan out his name, but you realized you both had not introduced yourselves yet. He thrusted his fingers up in your core, thumb rubbing your throbbing clitoris as you panted above his head.
“W-What’s your name?” you breathed out, glossy eyes peering down at him.
He did not answer, instead biting the tender spot between your jawline and your neck. It was enough, your body had enough. Your inner walls clenched tightly around his fingers, body jerking, as your orgasm hit you like a violent wave crashing against the shore. You trembled, body slumping against his as he enclosed your waist in his arms. His lips grazed the shell of your ear, a feather-like kiss sending frissons over your body.
“I got you, Y/N”.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there and thank you for having read my work. This is the first chapter of a new series I have come up with for Squid Game. The main couple will be The Salesman x reader, but I don’t and can’t promise you won’t see a glimpse of another pair throughout the story. It won’t obviously last, because well… It’s a Salesman x reader story. The title “Il nome mio nessun saprà” translated as “No one will know my name” is taken from the song played by the Salesman during the Russian roulette game with the two former loan sharks. Comments and opinions are greatly appreciated!
Love,
Luce
VOCABULARY.
1. Non tutti sono ricchi come te: not everyone is as rich as you are;
2. Buona fortuna: good luck;
3. Buonasera, signorina: good evening, miss.
CREDITS FOR THE DIVIDERS: @cafekitsune
381 notes · View notes
keeryhours · 7 months ago
Text
for the very first time - steve harrington
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Steve Harrington x Virgin! female! reader
Masterlist
Steve Harrington Masterlist
Summary:
You decide to give your first time to your boyfriend, Steve. He promises to make it special.
Warnings:
Smut (18+), p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, just mostly sweet sex with sweet Stevie
Word Count: 4.7k
A/N:
Can’t get enough of Steve <3 Requests are open!
You stood in front of the mirror, feeling like you were looking back at a stranger. The woman staring back at you was not someone you recognized.
You were wearing a lingerie set you had bought on a whim a month ago, no plans on when you’d wear it but you knew the time would come. And that time was tonight, apparently.
The pale pink lace covers your breasts, pushing up your tits to make them look extra enticing, you figured. There was a small white bow in the center. The matching panties clung to your hips, making your ass look round and cute. There was a matching small white bow on the panties, too. You felt like a present waiting to be unwrapped.
At least, you hoped Steve would see you that way.
You and Steve had been dating for 4 months now, and you’d known he wanted to take the relationship to the next level for a while now, but you weren’t ready. You had never been with a guy before, and you had to admit you were scared. The farthest you two had ever gotten were some heavy makeout sessions, sometimes ending with his hands beneath your shirt before you stopped him. You had told Steve you just wanted to wait for the right guy and the right time, and it seemed like you had finally found both. You trusted Steve, you wanted to take this next step with him - if you trusted anyone to take your virginity, it would be him.
So at school on Thursday, you told Steve this Saturday was the day. His eyes had widened at the declaration, before a wolfish grin slid over his features, his hands coming to rest on your hips.
“Yeah? You’re sure?” he searched your face for any sign that you weren’t being honest, that you still weren’t ready, but he couldn’t hide the glimmer of excitement in his eyes. He would have waited forever for you, you meant so much to him, but at the same time he wanted you badly, something that has tortured him for months.
“I’m sure,” you had said, and it’s true, your mind had been made up. You were ready. As ready as you felt you’d ever be.
Steve had smiled at you, pushing some of your hair behind your shoulder as he leaned in and kissed your cheek before pressing his lips against yours.
“I’ll make it special for you, baby,” he had promised.
Now, as you examined yourself in the lingerie, butterflies in your stomach going wild, you wondered if you truly were ready. It was now or never, you figured.
You dressed in an oversized sweater and a pair of jeans over the lingerie. You were waiting for Steve to come pick you up. In perfect timing, his parents were out of town for the weekend, giving you two all the time and space you needed. You had told your parents you were sleeping over at your best friend’s house. The thought of it thrilled you, you had never done anything like this before, lying to your parents so you can stay at your boyfriend’s house and have sex with him. You were always a good girl, so your parents trusted you wholeheartedly, which made you feel only a little guilty about what you were doing.
You noticed the time - 8pm, when Steve was supposed to be here - and headed down the stairs, overnight bag in hand. You said goodbye to your parents, and then you were outside, walking to the end of the block where Steve waited in his car.
You felt giddy as you climbed into the passenger seat next to him. It was cold outside but nice and toasty in Steve’s BMW. He wore a red sweater and jeans, his perfect hair tousled messily, and he gave you a smile as you slid into the car.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted you with a kiss. You smiled against his lips, buzzing with anticipation for the night.
“You look handsome,” you complimented him, earning a chuckle from the boy as he put the car in drive and began heading back to his own house.
“Thank you, baby,” he said, reaching over to place his big hand on your thigh, squeezing lightly. It sent shivers through your body, straight to your core.
You were too nervous for conversation the whole way to Steve’s house. The radio was on, so you didn’t have to ride in awkward silence at least. Steve could tell you were nervous, and he kept shooting you reassuring smiles, rubbing your thigh.
When you got to Steve’s, the nerves were worse. It was finally time, and you were freaking out. Steve took your hand, leading you up the stairs and to his bedroom.
It was clean, tidy, looked like a guy’s bedroom. Nothing particularly special. You looked around, noticing the box of condoms sitting ready on the bedside table, which made you blush.
Steve closed the bedroom door softly, then walked over to you, placing his hands on your hips.
“You’re sure you want to do this tonight?” he asked, his voice low. You could tell he desperately wanted you to say yes, but he would have stopped if you asked him to, you knew perfectly well.
“Yes,” you said. “I want this. With you.”
Steve smiled at you gently. He placed his hands on either side of your face, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. “I love you.”
Before you could answer he was pressing your lips together, kissing you softly at first. This was something you were used to, something familiar, and you felt your anxiety slipping away as his lips worked against yours.
His tongue slipped into your mouth, tangling with yours as he kissed you deeper. His thumb caressed your cheek, fingers on his other hand tangling in your hair. You gripped onto his biceps, feeling the strong muscles beneath his shirt.
He pulled away, breathing a little heavier now as his eyes searched yours. He nudged you towards the bed and you took the hint, kicking off your shoes before you climbed onto it.
“Do you want some music?” he asked, walking to his stereo and looking through his collection casually.
“Uh, sure,” you said. That might be nice.
“I have the perfect mix,” Steve said, smiling to himself as he put a cassette into the stereo and pressed play. “Made it for you, actually.”
You blushed as Steve turned around, music now playing softly over the speakers. He sauntered over to the bed, causing the anticipation to build in your stomach.
When he reached the bed, he slowly crawled onto it, over you. He laid next to you on the bed, leaning over you with one hand on your waist as your lips met once again.
He kissed you for a long time, and you didn’t mind one bit. You and Steve did a lot of making out, and this was no different. You wondered if he was easing you into it on purpose, if he could tell you were nervous so he was taking his time.
Steve’s hand slowly started trailing up your sweater, feeling your smooth skin beneath his fingertips. It sent goosebumps across your body as you shuddered at his touch. He kept sliding his hand up, feeling the smooth skin of your back before moving to the front, feeling up your stomach until he gently grasped your breast. He massaged it slowly, which actually felt really nice.
You moaned into his mouth, earning one back from him, and you were caught by surprise when he pushed his clothed hips against your thigh and you could feel the bulge through his jeans. Your heart beat faster at the feeling, reminding you what you were going to be doing tonight.
“Can I take this off?” Steve asked, breathless against your wet, kiss-swollen lips.
You nodded, and he lifted the sweater up and over your head, tossing it to his floor. His eyes widened as he took in your bra, half of the surprise you had for him.
“Wow,” he said, eyes never leaving your breasts. He caressed the material of your bra, admiring the beautiful lace covering your perfect tits from his view. He loved it and hated it at the same time.
He leaned forward, pressing kisses to the tops of your breasts peeking from the bra, sucking on the soft skin, leaving love bites all over your chest. You moaned again, fingers tangling in his long hair, which made him groan against your skin.
“Do you always wear underwear this sexy?” he asked, pulling back to devour you with his eyes again. He slipped a finger between the strap of your bra, flicking it against your skin playfully.
“No,” you answered, blushing deeply. “I bought it for you.”
Steve’s face lit up at that revelation, another soft groan falling from his lips. He rubbed his palm all over your exposed body, over your sides.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled, then he was placing his hand on the back of your head again and kissing you deeply.
He tasted so familiar, so comforting, his breath minty and fresh like he’d eaten some mints in the car before he picked you up. The thought of Steve being even a little bit as nervous as you were for this made your heart flutter in your chest. You knew he had been with other girls before, and he was plenty experienced, but this would be your first time together and Steve was taking that seriously.
You decided to be bold, trailing your fingers up his abdomen beneath his sweater. You feel the firm muscles of his stomach, trailing higher until you’re pressing against his strong chest, fingers trailing through his chest hair. You always felt that made him seem so manly. Steve hummed against your lips at the feeling of your hands on his chest.
You tugged on his sweater, and he took the hint, leaning back away from you to sit on his knees and pull it over his head. You drank in the sight of your shirtless boyfriend, his chest heaving lightly.
Steve rubbed your leg, from your calf up to your thigh, rubbing over your ass before slapping it playfully. It made you gasp, and he gave you a mischievous smile.
He moved until he was settled on his knees between your legs, rubbing your hips. He reached forward, giving your tits some more attention before he trailed his hands down your stomach, landing at the buttons of your jeans. His eyes flicked up to yours, searching for permission. You gave him a small nod, which was all he needed before his long fingers were deftly undoing your jeans.
He pulled them down your legs and tossed them behind him, revealing your matching panties. A smirk grew on his lips at the sight and his hands went straight to them, feeling the lace over your hips.
“Cute,” he said, staring down at you appreciatively. He reached forward and trailed a fingertip over your slit over the panties, making you gasp and jerk away from him on accident. He had never touched you there before.
His eyes shot up to your face immediately. “Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah,” you stumbled out, “just surprised me.”
He laughed a little, his hand rubbing your hip again. “Just relax, baby. You don’t need to be nervous. I’m gonna make you feel good.”
You felt heat in your belly at his words, a throbbing in your core. Despite your nerves, you had to admit to yourself that you were excited for what was to come. You knew Steve wouldn’t do anything you didn’t like.
You only jump a little when you feel his fingers over your core again, gently rubbing against your folds, feeling how damp your underwear already was. The thought embarrassed you, but he didn’t seem to mind.
His fingers traveled up until they were pressed against your clit through your underwear. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, tingles traveling through your whole body. He rubbed circles against it, and you began to writhe beneath him as the pleasure got more and more intense.
When he stopped, you whined, hips bucking up towards him as if chasing the feeling. Steve chuckled, leaning forward so his lips were right against your ear.
“I’m gonna take these pretty things off you now, baby. Okay?”
Your body tensed. “Okay,” you said, but you found yourself losing your train of thought as Steve kissed across your chest. His hands trailed up your back until they reached your bra strap, quickly and easily undoing the hooks and removing it from your body.
He immediately pulled back to take in your naked chest for the first time. He moaned at the sight, hands going to grasp your tits, pinching at your rapidly hardening nipples. You let out tiny moans and whimpers at the feeling, which nearly made his eyes roll back in his head.
“Fuck…” Steve breathed. He moved forward and wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, circling his tongue around the bud and sucking lightly. You whined, back arching and pushing your tits in his face. He moaned around you, fingers working the nipple his mouth wasn’t currently on.
He switched sides, paying equal attention to your other nipple. He grazed his teeth over it lightly, which made you draw in a shuddering gasp.
Steve popped off of your tits with an audible noise, moving back between your legs and hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties. He pulled them down your legs slowly, fingers feeling your smooth skin as he went, fabric discarded to the floor when he was done.
His hands landed on your knees and he slowly pushed them apart farther, revealing all of you to him. He licked his lips as he took in the sight of your bare pussy, his jeans uncomfortably tight.
“God, you’re just as beautiful as I imagined,” he said. His words made you feel good, but the attention he was paying to parts of you no one had ever seen before made your body flush with embarrassment.
Steve ducked between your legs, lips placing kisses on the insides of your thighs. He laid between your legs, big hands wrapped around your thighs as he kissed lower and lower.
You looked down at him. “Steve, what are you-“
You were immediately cut off by the feeling of Steve’s tongue dragging along your pussy, and you threw your head back, a strangled cry coming from your lips.
You swore you felt Steve smirk against you, but you couldn’t think too much about it because he had begun to devour you like he was starving. He lapped at your folds, tasting your wetness. His tongue circled your clit before he closed his lips around it, sucking gently.
You were wide eyed, body writhing under him until he was forced to grab onto your hips, holding you still. You had never felt pleasure like this before in your life, this was more than you ever could have even imagined. On instinct your hand shoots down and grabs a handful of Steve’s hair. He groaned when you pulled on it, and you pushed his face harder against your needy pussy, which Steve welcomed.
The noises he made as he ate you out were obscene enough to make you blush. He was sloppy with it, you worried that you were going to ruin his sheets. Steve didn’t seem to care, moving down to press his tongue into your hole, nose nudging against your clit. You cried out, pulling on his hair harder.
Steve pulled away to catch his breath. “God, you taste so sweet.” Then he was buried in your cunt again, that expert tongue driving you wild. You felt his fingertip pressing at your entrance, and your body tensed. You tried to focus on the feeling of Steve’s tongue as he slowly pressed it into you, the stretch burning.
He carefully thrusts the one finger in and out of your tight heat, and over time it becomes less painful and you start to enjoy the stretch, moaning with every movement. Steve can tell you’re feeling good, and he takes the opportunity to push in a second finger. The stretch is more intense this time but he works you through it. He pushed his fingers all the way in, curling them up and pressing against a spot that makes your eyes go wide. Once he realizes he found it, he presses into that spot with every thrust, his mouth never letting up.
There’s a tension building deep in your stomach, tightening rapidly. It’s more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. You hold onto Steve’s hair with one hand and a fistful of the sheets in the other, and that coil snaps, pushing you over the edge violently.
You’re glad Steve’s house is empty all weekend, because you scream out, body arching and stars exploding in your vision. You grind your pussy against Steve’s mouth, desperate for him to keep going as you come undone on his tongue and fingers. “Oh, my god- Steve! Oh, Steve, fuck, holy shit-“
Steve groaned loudly, rutting his hips into the mattress as he worked you through your orgasm, rock hard and desperate for some friction on his aching cock. When you came down, he pulled back, looking up at you from between your legs.
Your breath caught in your throat as you saw him, looking up at you with your slick covering his mouth, chin and nose. His pupils were blown wide, his eyes wide and full of lust.
Steve sat back up on his knees and began undoing his jeans. You watched intently as he pushed them down his hips along with his boxers, exposing his dick, huge, hard and throbbing and leaking at the tip.
Your mouth watered at the sight of it. You wondered how the hell your boyfriend had been hiding all that in his jeans this whole time.
Steve leaned back over your body, and you could feel his length pressing against you as he moved. It startled you a little. You couldn’t wrap your mind around all of him being inside you, wondered how it would fit. If it would fit.
He kissed you again, and you tasted yourself on his lips and tongue. It was strange, you thought, different. Suddenly, you had an idea you couldn’t shake from your head.
“Can I taste you?” you asked him shyly as he pulled back a little, your noses pressed together.
Steve’s eyes widened. “R-really? Are you sure?”
You nodded, smiling at him nervously.
He kissed you shortly yet passionately one more time before moving to lay next to you. He couldn’t hide his eagerness as he got settled on the mattress. You giggled a little as you moved on top of him, grabbing the base of his cock in your hand.
The sensation caused him to jerk his hips up with a groan, so desperate for more already. You were surprised how sensitive he was, but it excited you, made you want to do more. You tentatively began to stroke him from base to tip, squeezing your hand around him. His eyes fluttered shut, groans slipping from his kissable lips.
You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his tip in a kiss. You licked the head experimentally, tasting the pre cum smeared at his slit. Steve lets out a whine, cock twitching in your hand.
You wrapped your lips around his tip, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked it. He started pushing his hips up again and you understood what he wanted (needed), lowering your head down his shaft. You felt Steve’s hand at the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair.
He was gentle as he pushed and pulled on your hair, guiding your head up and down on him. You massaged the underside of his length with your tongue, making him shudder. He was so vocal, so responsive, it surprised you but you found it so hot.
Steve started thrusting into your mouth, eyes half lidded but not daring to look away for even a second. You looked up at him, moaning around his dick as you made eye contact. The look on his face was one of pure pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth hanging open, panting.
You relaxed your throat and took him deeper, all the way until your nose was pressed against the dark curls at his base. He let out a strangled groan, and you felt his thigh muscles tightening and trembling beneath your hands.
Suddenly he’s yanking you off of him by your hair. You come up, surprised. “Did I do something wrong…?”
“No, god no baby, I-“ he stopped, panting like he was trying to catch his breath. “I would have busted down your throat if you kept going for another second.”
You blushed, laughing a little. You crawled up his body and kissed him again until he was pushing you down on the bed, climbing over you again. He kissed you, but quickly moved down to your neck, biting and sucking and leaving visible love bites on your skin. Your mind was far too hazy to think about it, so you just enjoyed the feeling of his mouth instead.
He kissed down your body, taking the time to wrap his mouth around each of your nipples again for only a second - what can he say, he loved your tits. Farther down until he was settled between your legs again, pushing your thighs apart, taking in the view of your naked body under him after all this time.
He reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the box of condoms. Your heartbeat sped up rapidly as he took one of the foil packages out of the box. He ripped it open with his teeth, sliding it over his dick like he’d done this plenty of times before.
Your body was buzzing with anticipation as he lined his fat tip up at your entrance. You gasped, involuntarily tensing your entire body.
“You’ve got to relax for me,” Steve said, rubbing your thigh soothingly with his free hand, “or I’m not gonna be able to get in, baby.”
You nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. You made an effort to relax your body. You felt him pressing insistently at your entrance, and you wanted to let him in.
“You ready?” Steve asked you, looking up at you with concern in his eyes. It warmed your heart that he cared so much about your comfort that he was willing to stop even though you could see how badly he needed you.
“I’m ready,” you told him, your voice laced with desire.
Steve smiled softly at you before he looked down and finally, finally began pressing into you, your tight, tight pussy wrapping around him and squeezing him like a vice. You gripped onto the sheets in your fists, body trembling as he stretched you out, and it hurt deliciously. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how something could be painful while you also never wanted it to stop.
Steve’s eyes clenched shut as he pushed in, a hiss of pleasure coming from between his teeth. He bottomed out and dug his fingers so hard into your hips it would surely leave bruises as he tried to control himself.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You are so fucking tight.”
You breathed through it, trying to relax your body completely, knowing the pain would be better if you could just relax. Steve moved a hand to your clit again, rubbing against it slowly at first.
His plan worked and it distracted you from the stretch, the intense feelings overtaking your body turning into pleasure. When you look like you’re enjoying yourself again, Steve pulls out until only the tip remains inside, and slowly pushes back in.
You moan as Steve sets a slow, gentle pace. You can feel every inch, every vein, every ridge of his cock as it slowly drives in and out of your pussy. He leaned over and kissed you as he slowly fucked you, his fingers continuing to work your clit.
You wrapped your arms around him, hands grasping onto his strong back. You loved the way he felt moving against you, his breath hot against your neck as he buried his face there. You wrapped your legs around his waist and started moving your hips up to meet his, making him groan.
Steve’s mixtape was still playing softly in the background as he made love to you, the sounds of the bed creaking and both of your pants and moans intermixing with the music. He peppered loving kisses against your neck, and you could feel his heartbeat against your chest.
“Can I move a little faster?” he asked breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours.
“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yes, please, harder.”
Steve moaned again as he picked up his pace. You could hear the sound of your skin meeting every time he thrusted his hips into you, the sound of how wet you were around him, and it made you feel ashamed. But Steve was loving every second of it.
“God…you…you’re so perfect, so hot,” he moaned, his own mind going hazy as he feels his release building throughout his body.
“You’re so big,” you whined, arms wrapped around him and holding him tightly. “So deep. I’m gonna cum again, Steve.”
Steve’s hips sped up at your words, his fingers circling your clit even faster. “Yeah, baby. Cum on my cock for me, I got you.”
Your brows furrowed and you arched your back, your tits pressing against Steve’s chest. He buried his face in them, his groans muffled. His cock hit that perfect spot he was pounding with his fingers earlier, but this is even more intense, even better. You tugged on his hair as your body began to tremble, your eyes clamped shut and your moans got louder and more desperate.
“Steve…Steve…oh my god oh my god-“
Your second orgasm hit you like a train, and you came hard, your pussy throbbing around his cock as he pulled your intense orgasm from your tired body. You heard Steve’s muffled whine, his grip around your body getting even tighter. His thrusts pick up in speed and intensity until they’re ruthless, messy, frantic and he’s chasing his own release.
“I’m gonna cum,” Steve groaned, one hand moving up to intertwine with yours. He looked up into your face as he neared the edge, and you knew it had hit him when his mouth dropped open, his hips shoving back into you hard one last time as he let out a strangled groan, thrusting shallowly into you a couple more times as he rode out the last of his orgasm.
He stilled inside you, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Both of your bodies still trembling. Steve peppered about a million kisses across your face, making you giggle, before he pulled out, disposing of the condom in the trash can and collapsing on the bed next to you.
He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly into his chest.
“I love you,” he said, his words sounding like they were genuinely pulled straight from his heart.
“I love you, too,” you whispered back, a big grin on your face that he quickly returned. He pecked you on the lips sweetly. You stared into your boyfriend’s warm brown eyes.
“That was incredible,” he said, laughing breathlessly. “Thank you for trusting me.” He added the second part more seriously, brushing your messy hair out of your face.
“It was amazing,” you agreed, fingers drawing designs on his bare chest. “I wanna do it again.”
Steve laughed. “We will, believe me.”
He pulled you as close as you could get, your head laying on his slightly sweaty chest. The music still played in the background, relaxing you. Steve pulled the blankets over you both, and you were pretty sure you’d never been more cozy in your life.
There, in Steve’s arms, you felt safe. You felt loved. Slowly, you both drifted off, sleeping peacefully tangled up in one another.
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ghostofhyuck · 1 year ago
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when you caught nct dream cheating. ⋆˚꩜。
‧˚ʚ ───────── ₊‧꒰ა ୨ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊ ───────── ɞ˚‧
AN: Remember that this is a work of fiction and does NOT reflect the people mentioned. Also this is a college au so that it makes so much sense for them to be assholes, lol. (Let's not tolerate cheating!!! Some of these are emotional cheating, still considered cheating tho.) Mentions of insecurities and trust issues by the way. 
Mark Lee ; Met up with his ex-girlfriend.
You're still insecure about his ex-girlfriend and Mark knows that. So when your friends saw him on a coffee shop with her, they immediately confronted him and told you. Privately, you asked him about it, but he couldn't give you a straight answer. He wasn't looking at you properly and was being defensive. You can see tears in his eyes, but you know that there's a reason why he met up with her. Your thoughts are still clouded with your emotions, so you walked away, asking Mark to give you space. 
Huang Renjun ; Saw him holding hands with his 'girl best friend.'
You always have doubts with Renjun's girl best friend. When you first met her, she seems sweet but was a bit clingy to Renjun. So when you saw them together, holding hands, you feel weirded about it. Later on, you opened it up to Renjun and he becomes defensive about his best friend, and he told you that you're overeacting. You tried to defend yourself and wonder why your boyfriend is on his best friend's side. The argument stopped when Renjun walked away first, leaving you there to cry. 
Lee Jeno ; Found out that he slept with another girl.
It was his friend who told you about it. Your heart starting to beat fast and your hands became shaky when you saw the text. When you asked Jeno about it, the first thing he said was sorry. And it broke your heart because it was true that he slept with someone. You tried to be rational, even though your chest is starting to feel tight. His explanation was shallow, and he kept on apologizing to you numerous times, but you couldn't look at him the same way anymore. "I think we should break-up." 
Lee Donghyuck ; Drunk-called his ex-girlfriend.
Last night you had doubts because Haechan wasn't replying to your text when he said he's going out to party with his friends. Now a text from his ex-girlfriend popped on your messages. She explained it like as if she was girl's girl but you know that she's half-bragging at you that Haechan called him saying that he still loves her. So when you confronted Haechan about it, he'll be shocked, explaining that he was drunk and he thought that he was calling you. But you've passed the "I'm drunk" excuse, you called it off with him and while he was trying to win you back, you know that you can't trust him anymore.
Na Jaemin ; Drunk-kissed a stranger.
You saw it. You witnessed it, and you can't believe that you put so much trust on Jaemin. You saw how eager that kiss was and how he smiled at the stranger when the kiss broke. You felt your tears flowing and at that moment, Jaemin saw you. He was able to follow you when you walked out of the club, trying to explain to you what you just saw but you're not taking any of his bullshit. "Stop trying to make excuse about it Jaemin, I saw what I saw." you said with a gritted teeth. "Let's just break-up." 
Zhong Chenle ; Flirting with strangers in a club.
You two had a small argument before going to a club with your friends. You tried to loosen up but you didn't expect that Chenle would go around tables flirting with other girls. You felt your chest tightening at the sight of your boyfriend laughing with other girls while you two are not okay. You walked-out of the club, not even saying goodbye to your friends. You tried to wipe the tears away, typing "Have fun there because we're done," to Chenle before going home. The next day, he sent you tons of messages trying to explain himself but you don't want to believe him anymore. 
Park Jisung ; Has been venting to his 'girl best friend' instead to you.
Lately Jisung has been so distant with you and you tried to understand him given that college is really hectic. But when you found yourself in the middle of him having a conversation with his girl best friend and she slipped something out that you don't know, you started to have doubts. You confronted Jisung about it and while he explained that he doesn't want to burden you with his worries, you felt as if he doesn't trust you enough. You two ended up having an argument about it, making Jisung walk away. "Go! Go to your best friend and tell her that we had a fight! Might as well date her while you're at it!" you shouted even though tears are streaming from your eyes. 
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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 3 months ago
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Heiiii! I love your writing like i adore all the nanami and the also buff guy x chubby reader fix. (i stalked it every time i saw a new part😻😻😏😰) i was actually wondering (which is fine if you don’t want to or can’t any reason to ignore!!) but i was wondering if you could do cute chubby reader and her husband who isn’t really.. that much of a lover. i would say like when reader cooks for him, he simply just shrugs it off or critiques her/or his cooking. or maybe when she makes his lunch and folds his laundry and fixes his work things he just takes advantage of it. maybe also like he doesn’t complement her as much as she wishes he would, but Nanami notices (or any character you want to choose i’m not a picky gal) nanami can see the effort and love she does for her husband doesn’t seem to care, and goes out with buddies for lunch or dinner and looks at other ladies rather than the sweet one at home who stays up waiting for him? can be sfw or (nsfw) up to you i don’t mind!! i just would LOVE this so much but up to you bonita❤️‍🔥
I've been thinking about this all DAY
CW: chubbt fem reader, ungrateful husband, cheating, smut
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Nanami first met you at the company's Christmas party.
He didn't really want to go—he hated these kinds of company obligations—but he was happy once he met you. You were his dream woman: soft and sweet and oh so lovely. What he wouldn't give to take you on a date right now...
But you were taken. You were married to a coworker of his, and when he found that out, his heart sank.
So he was respectful and kept his distance. He was always kind to you when you came around, whether when the company went out for drinks or you were dropping off some lunch to your husband. He didn't let his emotions get in the way of his work.
But he had to admit, it was hard when you seemed like such an angel. You would bring your husband home-cooked meals, ask him about his day when you visited, giving him a kiss goodbye before you left. Nanami felt envious of the man, wishing he had a beautiful lady like yourself to come home to, someone to love and cherish him.
It pissed him off when he realized that your husband didn't care. He would often complain about your meals: too many vegetables, not enough sauce. He would groan when he found the smallest wrinkle in his shirt, saying you didn't know how to iron properly and how he didn't know why he married you. And when he went out to the company dinners, he would flirt with the waitresses, drink too much, bemoan the fact that he was a married man and couldn't be with someone prettier, someone who would be a better wife.
It enraged Nanami. How could he not see the perfect individual in front of him? How could he not see how lucky he was to have you?
But he kept his feelings to himself. There wasn't exactly anything he could do in this situation, so he just ignored the comments your husband made.
But then it all came to a head when your husband flirted with a girl at a bar, asking to walk her home. That was the final straw, watching him leave the bar with this stranger while his sweet wife stayed at home.
He got your address from a coworker; he went to your home. You were confused when you opened the door to your husband's coworker instead of your husband himself, worried that something bad had happened to him.
Nanami told you what your husband did. He held you while you cried, comforted you, and, he's ashamed to admit, kissed you when you started speaking badly about yourself. He pulled away and began complimenting you, telling you how wonderful you were, how he would kill to have someone like you in his life.
One thing leads to another and suddenly you're on your bed, legs spread for him while he fingers your chubby cunt.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he mutters, thumb pressing into your clit with so much force it made your head spin. He made you cum not once, but three times like that, with his fingers working you open.
He would have been satisfied with that, but you were hungry for more after having a dry spell with your husband.
So he fucks you. He fucks you the way you deserve, the way you've been craving your entire marriage.
"You should leave him," he groans to you, kissing over your shoulder as he fucks you hard and fast. "I'll get you a lawyer. I'll make sure he doesn't get a penny from the divorce. You can move in with me if you want. I'll give you everything you'll ever want and need. Clothes, food, whatever your heart desires, it's yours. Just please be mine. Just come with me and I'll give you the world."
"Nanami—"
He shushes you with a kiss, sucking on your tongue as he gives you deep strokes. He pulls away, leaving a trail of spit behind.
"Kento. Call me Kento, please."
"K-Kento, I'm gonna cum!"
"Then cum for me," he mumbles, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it incessantly. "Cum on my cock. I wanna feel it, I want to feel you. Cum for me so I can cum in you and give you a baby like you deserve."
And you do. You cum harder than you've cum all year, and he follows soon after, filling you up like he promised, letting you milk him dry.
The next morning, you've moved into Nanami's apartment, and he delivers your divorce paperwork to your soon-to-be ex-husband at work.
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fairytsuk1 · 7 months ago
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get on your knees | (s)
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apart of maki's kinktober: the 2024 anthology
prompt: creampie, praise/degradation, secretary!au
pairing: shota aizawa x reader
words: 6.4k
warnings: unprofessionalism, boss/secretary relationship, dom/sub themes, impact play, degradation and praise, strangers to lovers, creampie, body worship
"Yep. Yep, thank you. Call us again if you need further help. Our way is the right way. Thank you. Goodbye."
How much longer could you keep this up? Between shrill old ladies desperate for solutions to their self-caused issues and the men who wanted to turn your customer service line into a phone sex hotline, you were running out of both patience and sympathy.
You knew it'd be dull work when you applied. It was in the name: customer service representative. You didn't mind. Dull work meant working as a stocker and meticulously organizing food products. It meant waking up early and chatting with the same group of people over the same brand of weak coffee every day. It could be meaningless; it could be meaningful.
Your temples are rubbed by your fingers, aching for relief, and you wonder if your company is any good with benefits after you've quit.
Real people were missed by you. No more old women and pervy men. You wanted something substantial. Something real, something alive. You decide you need to get outside, away from the phone. Your poised, fake voice was due for a break.
Your lunch is subbed for an afternoon walk. The same route you always take, the same things you pass by like always. It's all the same. Trees bend and sway under the will of the wind, and you find yourself looking down at the ground. Did you always do that?
The coffee shop is bustling, the bookstore is closed, and the park is full of screaming, laughter, and joy. The police station looks lifeless as always, but the local lawyer's office is… open, shining and bright, and strangely standing out. The actual building is cream and desert colors, yet its sign has bright bulbs exclaiming help wanted.
In tiny font under the main signage, you read "secretary."
It would be dull work. Lawyer jargon, a hot lawyer who you hear from around town is to die for. Like smooth chocolate. Your sneakers pad on the ground before you're even aware of it, carrying you past the threshold of oak doors into the domain of law.
Inside, it's dark and stormy. It is entirely opposite to the outside, making your head spin. It's quiet, and your footsteps echo as you traverse the halls looking for the lawyer. There's no one at the secretary's desk, and you can't help the daunting hand that runs over its ridges as you pass by.
Another oak door sits menacingly ajar. You press forward. Your heart stutters in your chest, butterflies hatching as you see him sitting cleanly, sexy and firm.
There he is. He's got inky black hair pulled neatly into a low bun; your breath catches in your throat when stormy dark eyes pull up from paperwork to you. You feel so exposed, so on display, as you fidget and murmur, "Hello."
He's quick to the chase, "Are you here for the secretary job?"
The lawyer's eyes scan yours, and you find yourself nodding; too afraid to speak further. His eyes then trail over your form, and you wonder if your work-from-home outfit was too casual. How would you have even known you'd have encountered this icy gentleman during your typical stroll?
Aizawa is grateful that the prettiest candidate will come in on his break. He could forgo lunch for you; he'd be fine having that sweet pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
"Hm. Resume?"
Your empty hands are glaringly obvious. Your purse hangs heavy and resumeless on your shoulder.
"I, I don't have–I didn't bring one, I mean."
"Did you see the ad in the paper?"
"No. I was walking and saw the lit-up sign."
"... I see," he drawls, still eyeing you before motioning to the seat in front of him.
Sinking into the cushion, you try to look presentable as you cross your feet–the rip of your stocking just barely visible from where he sits at his woodsy desk. He stares at you before asking.
"What talents do you have?"
"I'm a very hard worker," you pitch softly. "I won several typing awards in school."
He says nothing to that; maybe you've said or done the wrong thing. His hand rubs at the stubble on his chin, and your throat dries up at the various rings decorating his long, pale fingers. You would give anything to feel that scruff between your thighs, nails leaving indents as he plants kiss after kiss up your leg.
"It's very, very dull work. Perhaps too dull for you."
It's an opening. A job you can practically taste on the tip of your tongue.
"I don't mind," you add. "I'll do anything."
The terse stare you both share leaves you sweating. What were the chances: no resume, lack of secretary experience, and you wore ripped stockings. He licks his lips, eyes flickering up and down before nodding to the side.
"Please make me a coffee. Not too much sugar."
You're up in a heartbeat as you grab his half-empty cup. Suddenly, it's obvious you don't know anything about the building you're in as you head to the first door: "It's not that one."
The second one is a bust, and the third opens you up to his quaint office kitchen. Coffee was easy! Sure, you spilled a few coffee grounds and milk. Maybe you struggled with the machine as it brewed its ground beans. In the end, the mug sits hot and ready on his desk. You're ready for him to say it's perfect. That he'll reward you with a black coffee-tinged kiss.
"Too much sugar," he grimaces a bit. "Be here tomorrow at eight a.m."
You were in the parking lot by seven.
He never reveals too much to you. You still don't know so many basic things, even though you know how he likes his coffee, and you've seen how he does push-ups in his office when he's stressed. You see everything and nothing. It's agonizing.
The work is dull. You like it. It's typing letters, queries, and correspondence; it's all stuff Aizawa could be doing but chooses you to do. It makes you feel special in a sick way. You're stumbling from a bump in the carpet as you set a stack of papers on his desk. There is one problem, though.
"I alphabetized all the clients, sir," you say firmly.
"Thank you," he always says your name in that smooth drawl that leaves you drooling.
You're waiting. Waiting for those two words or even a glance up at you. He only sips his steaming coffee and peruses through the paper like you're not even there.
"Is there something you need?"
There was just one problem.
"No, sir," you say. "Sorry."
He never praised you. Aizawa hums, and you're turning on your heel. That took forever to do, and all he could say was, "Thank you." Was it wrong to ask for praise from your boss? The deep boom of his voice shakes you from your thoughts as he calls out after you.
You return like a dog, face alight and waiting. A stir in his gut has Aizawa hot at the back of his neck.
"That outfit… it's sloppy. You represent me. Your hair has flyaways, you leave crumbs everywhere, and you're messy."
Your boss stands and takes measured steps toward you. You're shrinking like prey under his gaze as he jabs at your faults.
"You make typos. You spill coffee grounds when you make my coffee." he's in front of you now, looking down and so close you can feel his breath. "You wear ripped stockings."
"I-I—"
"Don't say anything. Just look, and listen to me."
He is oh so pleased when you nod obediently. What a good girl.
"You represent me. You are the first person clients see when they come seeking my legal counsel. You could put in a little more effort, right?"
You're unsure of an answer. Silence or confirmation? Your knees knock together, "yes, I could."
There's a beat of silence. It seems so loud in the room.
"Good."
You wanted to sink to your knees then and there with an open mouth. An open throat. Aizawa sighs, seemingly relieved, as two big hands clasp onto your shoulders.
"Go home. Take the long way. Look at the sky and the trees and the stray cats. Pet one," he murmurs, and his fingers flick your chin. "Go and enjoy."
Just like that, he's edging away from you like he'd never gotten so close in the first place. Your heart stirs confusedly in your chest, battered from the pointed insults but feeling like they've freed you from any preconceived notions you had regarding your boss and you.
He thought you were good.
It was as if you'd never taken a walk before. Things were bright and so fruitful that there was a natural skip in your step as you brought yourself past the trees, the fountain made of marble with an angel sitting pretty and the people out and about. That joy carried you all the way home. You couldn't get how he looked at you out of his head as you flung yourself upon the bed.
You try practicing how you'd thank him, but it all comes out stilted. Unsure. Who was Mr. Aizawa? Did he like being thanked? You knew what you liked. Your hand brushes against the edge of your underwear as you recall how he'd murmured, "Good."
It just feels right to rub your clit and imagine your boss doing it for you with his hands coated in silvery rings. It'd be a mix of hot and cold as he rubbed at your pussy, "My, you're so wet for me. You really are so naughty."
Your hand twisted tight circles as you ground against your palm, face hot and panting into the sheets as you mewled for Aizawa. The syllables were foreign on your tongue, but you find yourself cumming with a cry of Shota!
After that, it was impossible to stay professional for very long.
Since those harsh criticisms, you'd started putting your all into the little things. New stockings on sale that highlight the smooth expanse of your leg while tucked into dainty kitten heels. You wiped up your mouth and counters after lunch and coffee. You were representing him.
Aizawa had noticed your preening. It was eerily similar to his cats. You would linger in front of him, waiting for a treat. He sighs, sinking into his chair, lids burning with the idea of you on your knees or bent over in front of him. He has to be careful when that familiar twinge of arousal wakes up more than just his mind. His hand comes to palm over the half-chub, but then your voice is filtering in over the phone.
"Sir? Miss Midnight is here," you murmur, and he grips himself over his slacks with a soft groan.
"Tell her I'm not here."
"I think she knows you're here," you say, eyes flickering between the phone and the woman herself, who flips through a magazine.
"Do not let her come back here. It's an order."
There's a click, and you're gone. You always listen so obediently. It was his favorite thing. Midnight's voice rings out from behind the grand wooden doors, your voice mixing into a beautiful tone of harshness and softness. He can hear how your chair scratches against the floor as you stand, guarding his office protectively.
"I know he's in there!"
"He is not," and you're puffing your chest out with a confidence that you're unsure of its origin. "You must come back another time."
Aizawa pants into the open air at your sweet little voice, trying to be commanding. He has to grip his base so he doesn't spill his load all over his black slacks. It grows quiet, and he knows the knock of your hands from memory.
"Come in."
You're hesitant, hands coming in front of you to fidget before you're forcing your hands by your sides. The pressure of Aizawa's presence has a hold over you that you can't shake. "She left. She said she'd be back tomorrow."
Lecherous eyes take in the loosening of his tie and how he relaxes instantly at the relief. He looks warm, if a bit debauched.
"I see," and he's staring at the ceiling before lazily trailing his eyes back down to your body. "Come here."
Soft feet pad even closer. You're not sure if you're even breathing.
"Thank you for listening. You are good at what you do.
"Thank you, sir."
He lets the stillness linger in the air, watching how you step even closer. You wanted a treat.
"Another thing. Where did you buy that skirt?"
"... At the department store."
His mouth flattens, and he hums, reaching into his wallet. " It's nice. Buy yourself something off the rack, not from the sale section."
Your face burns bright as he slides the cash over. This feels strangely good. You knew it was wrong, but you just couldn't help yourself. It was a substantial amount—too much for a boss to give to his secretary.
"Am I… allowed to take that?"
Aizawa smirks coolly, "I just gave you permission to."
The implication of his words leaves your legs crossing, much to your boss's amusement. He tells you to take the day off, and he's so soft this time. No harsh criticisms. All he wants to do is take care of you; the stack of money is comforting as a couple hundred sits heavy in your bag.
You buy a cute two-piece suit. It accentuates your curves nicely, and you can't help but wonder if Aizawa would feel the same. Adding a few accessories you don't think he'd mind, a gold choker glints at you, and you look around before shoving it to the bottom of your shopping bag.
He doesn't even comment on it. Of course, he doesn't. Your fingers click the keys with a bit more anger than normal. Who gives you money to buy an outfit and then doesn't even compliment you? Your boss, that's who. Fingers rip the written communication from the typewriter with a huff.
You're about to go to him, but he's coming to you first. Your breath stutters in your throat at how his eyes pierce you with every step. Aizawa stops and flicks the paper onto your desk with narrowed eyes, "can you tell me what this word says?"
"I-Indelible."
"And this one?"
He points to another word circled in red and your shy eyes are batting up at him, "rash…"
"So I didn't hire an illiterate typer, that's good. But then that means there must be a reasonable explanation for these glaring typos, hm?"
Aizawa's fist bangs on the table as you neglect to respond, "I–no, sir…"
He leans close till you can feel his breath on your lips. You're shaking and unsure if you want to burst into tears or kiss him on the mouth. And then he sees it, his eyes trailing down your body to see the familiar scratch of lines and ripped fabric on your calf. You'd hoped he hadn't noticed, but you can't help the twitch of your lips.
"Come to my office," Aizawa says shakily, voice intense and full of mirth.
You walk behind him to enter into his domain. Aizawa stares at you, breath labored as he swallows thickly. Neither of you are speaking, but it's clear how his presence dominates yours. It's effortless. It's easy for him.
"Put the paper on the table and your hands on either side."
Your hair sways as you put your hands on his grand office desk. The red marks stare back at you mockingly, your breath stuttering as you feel his presence behind you. He looms, and you can just barely feel how his hips align right behind yours. A deep, primal need wants to arch your back even more than it already is.
"Bend over more."
Was he serious? Your ass brushes against his crotch as you bend farther, with your pencil skirt rising higher. Your upper thigh is exposed to cool air, Aizawa's rough hands brushing against the soft skin. His thumb just barely brushes your panties, and you're biting back a whimper.
"Read it aloud."
Aizawa bites his lip as you do exactly what he says.
"Dear Mr. Toshinori," and you're cut off by a firm spank on your ass.
Your breath stops in your throat as you turn your head in disbelief. Aizawa says nothing, and does nothing, maintaining eye contact as he swats your plump butt again. It hurts and your eyes water. Something inside you tells you this is wrong, but it's overwhelmed by the wave of it feeling so right.
"Go on."
A sniffle escapes you, humiliation and pleasure mixing into a twisted thread of satisfaction, "the effort you've put into this case has been indelible–"
Another firm smack that leaves a gasping moan escaping you. You can hear his labored breaths mingle with your needy ones as he lays smack after smack against your aching bottom. Your whimpers come out more easily with each hit. Your eyes blur with tears that drip onto the crisp paper, blurring the letters you'd so carelessly put together. The red of Aizawa's pen seeps into the salty stain, and a cry escapes you.
"We don't want to be rash," another loud smack. "With all my love, Aizawa Shota…"
The two of you are panting, and Aizawa sighs as he presses the bulge in his slacks against the cleft of your sore bottom. He's so hard. You can't help how your hips grind against his, how the two of you play this forbidden song and dance of boundaries a second longer. He stills you with a fond voice.
"Very good," and you could cum with how he says your name. "I expect you to be better the next time around."
A strong hand smooths over the sore skin and fabric of your skirt. He takes care to readjust your clothes. His hands feel incredible with every soothing stroke. Your tears subside within no time, and you wish the moment would last forever.
He doesn't see how your eyes close in relief as a smile graces your lips, "I will, sir."
"Thank you."
You make no mistakes for the rest of the week. You might be the perfect secretary. Aizawa was beginning to reveal himself to you more and more; you were absolutely delighted. If he wanted to overwhelm you with himself, you weren't opposed to submitting to him entirely. You'd let him eat you if he wanted.
It's how your quaint, dull secretary job turns into a game of cat and mouse. Everything is predetermined by him. You crawl to his desk with the written communication tucked between your lips, sidling up next to him as he takes it with a "thank you."
Reveling in it is what keeps you going. It leaves you crawling, kneeling, and purring for "good girl," "thank you," "very nice," and "well done."
This time, you stand beside him like a shining knight while he reads over the newspaper. It's still early morning, only about an hour to your shift before he's straightening up and talking to you without looking at you.
"What do you eat for dinner, sweetheart?"
You can't help but smile every time you hear that tender nickname.
"U-Usually meat and potatoes and a vegetable."
"That's the daily menu?"
"Today I wanted to make mashed potatoes, peas, and meatloaf."
"Hmm," and then his steely eyes are turning and landing right on you.
It's as if a spotlight has shone down directly on you. You fidget on the spot immediately. Aizawa's lips quirked up as if he wanted to laugh, and you mirrored him back; you know he found your flightiness endearing. Cute, even. You'd heard him say so under his breath a few days back.
"I want you to have five peas. A scoop of mashed potatoes and no meatloaf."
You stay silent. He's not done. He smiles warmly, eyes scanning you appreciatively.
"And as much ice cream as you want."
"How did you know I like ice cream?"
He doesn't reply. He'd seen you out and about while he was waiting for his dry cleaning. You'd been happily chatting with friends, a giant cone of flavors on your right, while you gestured with the left. Aizawa hadn't wanted to interrupt you in your natural state. It was a shame, though, considering he couldn't shake your smile and your laugh from his head that entire day.
"I just know."
You make precisely five peas and a heaving bowl of mashed potatoes. The meal is done quickly, but you call him just before eating.
"A scoop of mash, five peas, and as much ice cream as I want."
Aizawa sits comfortably in his living room, wine glass in hand, "good girl."
It's a meal you savor. It's a wine he relishes. It's a simple delicacy, as if you share the meal together, knowing one is thinking about the other. Aizawa and you fall into this routine of codependency. You go where he goes. You eat from his hand and never bite. He offers you more and more. He lets you engorge yourself on him while he feasts himself upon you.
But, things grow different. He stops asking you to get on your knees, and you see him shutting the door behind you more and more. His face looked pained every time, as if he wasn't banishing you away to your secretarial desk. Why is he doing this? Why was he denying his sweetheart?
You listen to the audio of his lulling voice dictating you on what to type. You're not sure if you or the brat inside you insist on making typos, but you know it's the entirety of you that will be held responsible.
You smirked anyway as you delivered the paper to him with a flourish, "This one is finished."
He takes it silently and puts it in the envelope to be sent. You falter a bit and quizzically ask.
"Aren't you going to read it?"
"I'm really busy," he says your name so flatly you almost want to stomp your foot in protest.
Whatever. Quick feet turn, and you're heading off without a second thought. If he didn't want to read it, that was just fine! It wasn't as if you cared. You return to work, and your shift passes by slowly. Then, you hear the static and clearness of Aizawa's firm voice.
"Come to my office."
You're skipping with joy to the door, arms swinging at your sides before you compose yourself in front of the door. You open it, and he's immediately staring dead at you. His eyes are like a flame. Aizawa's voice shakes with restraint as he tells you to come close and bend over.
It's lewd how you drape yourself over his desk. Your hands are poised as you lay them flat against the desk, butt perked and wiggling ever so slightly. If you were a cat, your tail would swish, and maybe Aizawa would go easier on you.
But you're not a cat; Aizawa never goes easy on anyone. Not his clients, not the courtroom, and certainly not you. His rough nails scrape against the soft flesh of your bottom as he tugs your skirt up, and then your panties drop to the floor. You're bare and shaking in front of him, face dark and pressed into the wood you lay on. He gives no tells, your ears straining to hear something, anything.
Aizawa slowly unzips his slacks, and you're panting with neediness on your breath. You can feel how a strong hand easily shifts your hips to the side as if you weigh nothing; he's still silent as a hand grips the base of his cock, and he groans.
You wish so badly to turn and catch him in the act. He spits lewdly and tugs your skirt up higher till your ass is on full display. He grunts, and it's so slick listening to his palm hit his fat balls and work the tip over and over again. A whimper escapes you when he digs his palms into the fat of your ass and grips it for purchase. It feels so heady, and you're forced to listen as Aizawa fucks into his palm.
The wet noises echo, his hand speeding up as he groans your name. A confident thrum leaves you thrusting back, and the choked moan he lets out is downright delicious, "fuckk."
His breath becomes strangled as he works himself. Then, he's letting out a deep yelp, and you're coated in hot white strands of his cum. It soaks into your panties, and your hole clenches around nothing. He's still breathing shakily, his hand tracing the marks he left on you before pulling away entirely. You can smell his cologne when you turn knock-kneed before him.
"That'll be all," he mumbles with ragged pants.
You stare at yourself, awed, in the mirror. The streaks on your panties are visible as you slip a hand past your waistband and hold a hand to your mouth. You cum just like that, in Aizawa's company bathroom, with his cum on your ass.
He doesn't make an appearance for the rest of the shift. You want to knock and ask, "Are you okay?" But, you worry it'd just make things worse.
Meanwhile, Aizawa stares at his desk contemplatively. A letter sits mockingly as he stares at it. The white stain on his slacks mocks him. He keeps trying to rub it out, but it won't budge. This can't go on.
Dear Sweetheart,
This is disgusting. I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm like this.
He crumples it and tosses it off somewhere, sinking into his office chair with an arm draped over his eyes. This was pathetic. It was unseemly. He had to intervene before he got out of control. Aizawa tries to ignore the deep pain within his chest that winces at every thought of separating himself from you.
That was what he told you the next day, "we can't be doing this every day. It's… wrong."
"Why not?"
You're tearful and shaking. Aizawa's heart shatters so suddenly he has to look off to the side, eyes tracing the whistling trees outside the window.
"Why. Not?"
"Because we can't," he hisses in regret at even letting this conversation come to fruition regardless.
Your hands smack against your thighs as you stand and come closer. You never used to go into his bubble, and now you had no problem merging the two of you together, "I love you."
It was the genuine, honest truth. You loved how he told you how many peas to eat when he'd stroke your hair when he first called you sweetheart. You were sure you had started loving him then, some time or another, between the blending of professional boundaries.
"Don't be immature–"
"I'm not leaving.
He gets close, eyes narrowed as you stay rooted on his Persian rug.
"You're fired."
"No, I'm not," your tears spill over your cheeks in fat rivulets. "Don't do this."
Aizawa scoffs, grabbing his coat and huffing, "I'm going for a walk. Don't be here when I get back."
You stay rooted. You don't move an inch, only wiping your face and continuing to stare out his office window. This was the most heartbreak you'd ever felt. Aizawa was the first real man you had met, and he was tearing himself away from you. This job had never been dull from the second you saw him.
He's been gone for so long. Your legs ache, and you wonder if he went home, if he decided to leave you there through the night on trembling feet and shaky breaths. No. He wasn't like that. You'd wait.
The walk did nothing to soothe him. All he could feel was a pull towards you, like an anchor desperate to return home. Each step was heavy, and he turned around halfway to practically run back to the office. Were you still there?
You're still standing with your arms at your sides. You're not crying anymore, your face hard and focused. You're pretty upon his Persian rug, and Aizawa feels downright giddy. The giddy feeling is overshadowed by the thrum of darkness at the reality of the situation. He felt awful, wanting, and overwhelmed with emotions. He had so many emotions he almost couldn't stand it. Almost.
Aizawa sits outside the office door, head in hand. A thread born from sickness and loneliness was watered and tended by you, and he was so afraid.
The two of you stay rooted.
Only when the sun shines before noon the next day does Aizawa open the door. You're turning your head instantly with watery eyes and a grumbling stomach. You knew it, he hadn't left. He'd have never left you alone at this rate. You were his, and he was yours.
His footsteps are heavy as he draws closer until he's right before you. You look at him so softly. Your eyes are like dams threatening to give away if he didn't accept this watering, this tending. You'd worked so hard.
You collapse into his arms the minute he holds you, and he goes down with you, both of you sinking onto the floor in a loving heap. He doesn't even let your head touch the ground, only looking at you with fondness.
Aizawa kisses you, and it's like a cool drink of water. You're satiated yet hungry for more. Hungry for him.
"I'm going to take you home," he whispers tenderly, accompanied by a hand smoothing down the side of your waist before hooking under your knees.
He bridal carries you past the threshold of his office and building and towards his car. It's an intimate carry; you hold onto him with a soft smile.
His steps are measured as he takes you up the stairs of his home. Your eyes greedily latch onto every detail you pass by: the pictures daintily hung on the wall, the way a cat peeks in from the kitchen, the way the whole home is ornate and decorated. It's lived in, and you bring yourself closer to burying into Aizawa's neck.
The minute your back hits the bed, you're engaged in a passionate lip-lock that won't quit. It's not the rough dominance of Aizawa trying to eat you whole. It was the experience of two lovers finally able to blend as one.
He's gentle as he lays you back against plush silken sheets, immediately crawling and molding his body to yours with a hefty groan. His body weight is addicting. Your thumbs press against the divots in his back to try and bring him impossibly closer.
"Been wanting to kiss you since I saw you, pretty girl."
"Me too," your tongue laves over his bottom lip. "I only wanted you."
"I know. I see you."
He breathes into your neck before diving in to lick and suck at the supple skin. You can't help the squirming and the hot whimpers that escape you, the rough patches on your neck growing more abundant with every kiss of his lips and bite of his teeth.
"I want you," you confide, hands loosening his hair from the tight bun into loose strands that surround you. "I need you, Aizawa."
"Call me Shota." a burning hand trails down your hip to between your legs.
You're already mewling, trying to shut your legs despite Shota insisting with a "be good" to keep them open. His hand catches your thigh, and you shrink at his look that pins you to the covers.
"Be still," he says, and a finger drags up your puffy lips over your underwear.
The fabric catches on your clit, and you gasp; your hips tilting back and forth for moremoremore–
Shota tugs your panties to the side and spreads you open, his eyes greedy as they rake over every inch of your dripping cunny. You know you're making a mess all over his hand as you writhe and leak.
"Shota, ohfuckk. Don't stare," you barely manage to get out when his rough thumb circles your needy clit.
"I'll stare as much as I feel like, sweetheart. You're dripping for me, soaking my hand. 'S so cute."
You can't even find it in yourself to plead for him to stop. He sinks two fingers in you like it's nothing, an amused chuckle reverberating through his chest at the sight, "You play with your pussy a lot? She swallowed my fingers up like it was nothing. Is it gonna be the same when I stuff you full?"
"I'll take it, I-I can take your cock."
"Good girl. Saying exactly what I want to hear," and he's kissing you.
His hand leaves you, much to your chagrin, and you're left spread open wide in front of him as he rapidly undresses. His bulge is big, and you're almost a bit intimidated when his boxers reveal the shape of his thick cock leaking pre-cum. You wet your lips, and your knees go to touch before he pulls them open wider and settles on his haunches.
"Getting shy now?"
"No…"
"Then open your legs."
It's not a question but a command. You do as he says.
His underwear is pushed down to free his dick, the thick length bobbing and brushing against his happy trail. It's so lewd, and he looks so manly. His muscles are rippling, and he's so hard between your legs. Your hole clenches around nothing, and Shota runs the angry red tip through your folds.
"Ah! Don't tease me," you murmur, feet flexing with need.
His fat tip just barely presses against your hole, just barely pushing past your clenching pussy with a lazy grin, "I won't. Just lay back, honey."
Shota's voice is syrupy and smooth. His hands push your thighs farther than you thought they'd go as he sinks inch by inch into you.
"Oh, oh, Shota–you're so big."
"Poor pussy's squeezing me so tight," he grunts lowly. "You feel so good, sweetheart."
He plants a soft kiss against your ankle before shifting and bullying three inches of himself inside you. You cry out, eyes rolling back as he shallowly thrusts and works you open, breath heavy on his lips as he fucks his cock into you.
Your pussy's so sloppy, leaking and creaming around him before he's even balls deep inside you. Shota mounts you, and you're scrunched under him with a whimpering wail, "There we go. Nice and full, huh?"
"Y-Yeah! Ohgod, I-I can't–"
"Oh, fuuuuck."
He moves slowly and thrusts so deep you feel him in your stomach. It's sinful, the way his hips start to rock into yours, tip rubbing against your womb as you moan and moan.
"God, 'm so deep inside you. Fucking claiming this pussy, right? Just giving my girl what she needs, a nice, good pounding."
Shota's balls smack against your ass as he speeds up, sticky clit mashing against the coarse hair at his base as he rams himself into you again and again. You feel delirious as you get fucked further into the mattress. The two of you are one, creaming around his base as your nails scratch lines across his back.
"Rub your clit, baby. Make yourself feel good."
“‘M gonna cum, Shotaaa!”
"Hold it," he hisses, hips still pistoning in and out of you as he thrusts particularly hard. "Want you to rub yourself, sweetheart. You can do that for me, yeah?"
You're near tears as your hand shakily flits over your sore pussy, howling from pleasure as you circle it once, twice–" I-I can't, please, lemme cum!"
"Hmm," and you can feel how he throbs inside you.
Your walls suck him in impossibly deeper, and you can see the sweat dripping down his forehead as he heaves a breath. You squeeze again, and he glares at you darkly, eyes narrowed and stormy as he settles his hips on top of yours, heavy balls churning with the need to cum.
"Go ahead, since you wanna cum so bad."
"Sh-Shota!"
You're fucking squirting. Your juices make more of a mess, and it does it for him as he slams into you for a few more thrusts before hunkering down and sliding right against your womb. A few tears escape you as rope after rope of cum fills you to the brim, your eyes rolling back as he milks himself inside your sweet cunt.
"God, fuck," he shudders, hips twitching as he finishes breeding you.
Shota's eyes are closed as he holds you both in that position. If you weren't on birth control, you'd be in trouble as globs of cum spill out when he adjusts his grip on you. He pulls out slowly, watching the white fill and drip down your ass lewdly. He looks magical the way he bites his lip and spreads your open, hole clenching and letting out more of his release.
"You're so pretty."
Both of you are spent and exhausted. You can't find it in yourself to reply. Aizawa's muscles bulge when he pulls you closer into his body, a shiver coursing through you at a lazy finger trailing over your spine. Both of you are quiet for a while, the intense passion taking a load on you both.
You nearly fall asleep while he strokes you.
"Where are you originally from?"
It makes you pause before you answer your hometown, eyes pulling up to meet his soft ones.
"... Where did you go to school?"
"UA High School. Then, I went overseas for my law degree."
"Oh. I always wondered where you went."
"I always wondered where you were from," he whispers, noses your face, and plants a sweet kiss on your lips.
The two of you swap stories and questions just like that for hours. It means everything to you, and Shota wishes you could've done this sooner. Wishes he could've known this woman before.
"Do I still get to keep my job?"
"Of course, sweetheart."
-
You walk, arms spread out wide and attached to the spreader bar. You adorn yourself with a clean white blouse and a navy blue skirt—prim and proper. It's easy now, as you squat to grab a paper with your left hand and turn to your right to staple it.
It's easy, grabbing things with your teeth as you prance around, spread open as if on a cross for him. Your boss wanted you that way; he wanted you to be spread open and bare for him, fresh enough to eat.
You carry the tray with coffee in your right hand and the stack of papers in your left hand. As you approach the ajar office door, you can hear his voice, "Come in, and get on your knees."
The oak office door is kicked closed behind you without another word.
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thanksbutno98 · 2 years ago
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Mending Bridges
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John Price x fem!reader
Authors note: Angst has rolled in and helped me finish the piece. Thought I’d keep it as real and personal as possible. I tried to make this as long as possible because I felt guilty taking a week off. This covers about three or four seperate requests I’ve gotten for angst so I hope you enjoy!
Summary: Captain John Price is severely injured while deployed. Once at home in the care of his wife, family seems to always be his biggest stressor.
Warning: body shaming, sexual themes, toxic in-laws, slut shaming, mentions of child birth, mentions of hysterectomy, new born, low self esteem, injuries, blood, violence, not edited.
——————
The house was dark as Jj and Evelyn walked through the threshold of the front door. Floorboards creaked under their weight as they took in the dreary state of their home. The lamp in the living room that was always on was not sitting in its normal spot. In fact something felt off about the house. The living room couch was pushed a foot forward and things in the foyer had been moved around haphazardly. Normally their home smelled like your sweet candles and you had music lightly playing but tonight the house was devoid of smell and sound. It felt as if their home had been abandoned. Seeing things change so drastically in less than a day was alarming to both children.
Late last night you had woken Jj and Evelyn up from bed in a rush. Telling them Uncle Harrison and Auntie Amy were there to pick them up to have a sleep over. Both Jj and Evelyn were confused because they knew their aunt and uncle lived in separate flats. Evelyn cried as you helped pack her overnight bag and Jj was was shaking with anxiety even if he pretend he was okay. To be woken up and ushered to their aunts apartment was strange and scary. Jj barley slept being kept awake by his Uncles loud snoring on the couch adjacent from where the young boy laid.
Now walking into the place they called home and it feeling off made them feel even worse. Standing by the front door they both felt like strangers in their own home. That’s when they saw you quickly yet quietly shuffle down the stairs. You looked tired and your eyes were swollen. Evelyn immediately thought you were sick and Jj became queasy.
“Thank you, Harrison. I need you two to sit on the couch.” You motioned for your children to go sit on the large L shaped couch.
“You need me to stay?” Harrison asked. He could see you had been crying and knew the stress you were under must be suffocating.
“No, you’ve done more than enough.” You smiled weakly.
“Sarah still here?” Harrison asked wondering if his youngest sibling was still here supporting you.
“Yeah, she’s upstairs with John. It’s nice to have a nurse in the family.” You mumbled.
“If you need anything, call. You don’t have to do this all alone.” Without warning Harrison brought you into a vice grip of a hug. You knew he was trying to be strong for your sake and you were grateful for that. You were hanging on by a thread and the whole Price family knew it.
“Mummy, I’m sacred.” Evelyns voice was shaky as you gave Harrison a hug goodbye.
“It’s okay, let’s sit on the couch and have a chat.” With no hesitation you hoisted your daughter into your arms and she wrapped herself around you. Jj was already sitting on the couch patiently. Harrison said a final goodbye before the front door clicked shut behind him.
Placing Evelyn down next to Jj on the sofa you sat on the coffee table in front of them. They were staring at you the fear and uncertainty evident in their young faces. Jj looked so much like John it hurt and Evelyns shade of blue eyes was the same as John’s making you feel like he was somehow sitting in front of you. With a shaky breath you told you children the truth.
“Your father had an accident at work and he’s hurt really bad. It’s going to be different for awhile while he gets better.” The words tasted putrid as if you sunk your teeth into rotting fruit. You wanted to throw up, scream and cry seeing the stunned looks on your children’s faces. Evelyn was speechless for the first time in her life, not fully understanding what you were saying.
“We need to let him rest. That means we can’t cuddle or hug him until he’s healthy.” You knew it was going to be hard for your children to abstain from touching John. You two joked he was their own personal jungle gym with how they loved to jumped and climbed all over him. Piggyback rides and rough housing would have to be a thing of the past.
“Where is he?” Evelyn was quick to ask.
“He’s upstairs in bed. Auntie Sarah and Uncle Grayson helped me get him settled while you had your sleep over. Did you two have fun?” You tried to check in to see how things had gone. Only now realizing you had forgotten to ask Harrison how things went because you were so caught up in your worries for John’s health.
“Can I say hi?” Evelyn asked ignoring your question. She was sitting on the edge of her seat hiccuping back tears.
“No, I’m sorry Evie. Your father needs to rest. We can say hi in the morning if he’s up for it.” You hated telling her no in this moment. Knowing exactly how she was feeling, filled with anxiety and just wanting the comfort John so easily provided.
“Are you not sleeping with him?” Jj’s question was quiet as he stared at you unblinking. He seemed angry like he was holding back the storm that was brewing within himself.
“I’m going to be sleeping on the floor right next to him. I have an air mattress. He will need help getting up to go to the bathroom and won’t be walking by himself for awhile.” These details were important for you to share so hopefully your children listened about letting John heal.
“What happened?” Jj asked. This was the part you were dreading the most. Telling your children the extent of John’s injuries and the reason why he was hurt.
“Your father was trying to keep some people safe and got hurt in the process. I need you both to look at me when I say this. He is going to be okay.” You paused taking a breath before you spoke again.
“But he took a hard fall. His leg is broken and he’s all bruised and cut up. It might be scary and upsetting when you see him in the morning.” Mustering up all your strength you held back your emotion.
“Did he get shot?” Jj asked straight faced.
“Jj, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go into de-“
“Did he get shot!” Jj was standing as he shouted the words at you. Tears rolling down his face and fists clenched. You could only stare back at him the words caught in your throat, fighting back your own tears.
Jj started crying harder, loud and pained sobs tearing their way out of his little chest. His fists moving to clutch his t-shirt as if his chest was hurting and it was. It felt suffocating for the little boy to come to the realization his dad wasn’t invincible. Jj couldn’t cope he could hardly think as he broke down. You had never seen him like this, crying so hard he turned and threw up on the floor. With gentle hand you took Jj by his hand and guided him forward. Jj collapsed in your arms crying hysterically both of you ignoring the mess on the floor. The little boy let out broken sobs and choked out gasps as he fought for air.
“Mummy.” Jj sobbed into your shoulder as his hands griped your shirt, accidentally pinching your skin. He continued to cry out for you as if begging you to take this feeling away. To make it stop hurting and it broke your heart.
Evelyn was having trouble understanding why Jj was so upset. She knew her dad would be okay, you said he would. The concept of John being hurt wasn’t registering for her but seeing her brother so upset scared her. Evelyn moved to join you two and the three of you huddled together and you let your children cry until they had no tears left. After awhile you ended up carrying both children one by one up to their beds. You realized this might be the last time you ever picked up your little boy. Evelyn asked to sleep in Jj’s room and he was okay with it. Helping you pull out the trundle bed and get Evelyn set up with her blanket and stuffed animals. You stayed with them until they had fallen asleep and quietly made your way out of the room.
Light crying started to come from your new addition to the families room. Quickly you shuffled in and picked up your four month old. Bouncing her lightly she settled down and was fast asleep in no time. You thanked your lucky stars she was such an easy and happy baby. You laid her back in her crib and sat down in the rocking chair. You quietly cried for only a moment and then shook all the sadness away. You didn’t have time to feel all these horrible feelings you needed to go check on John and clean the mess on the living room floor.
——————
“Pass me a blue marker.” Evelyn stuck her hand out waiting for Jj to do as she said.
“You should say please.” Jj mumbled. Tongue peaking out as he scribbled away on his piece of construction paper.
“Pass me a blue marker, now.” Evelyn giggled out causing Jj to snicker at her normal antics.
The two Price children were laying on Evelyns bedroom floor with her art supplies strewn all around them. They had both decided when they woke up to make their father get well soon cards. They also wanted to take their stash of candy and put it in a shoe box and wrap it in the old Christmas wrapping paper they found in the basement.
They had tried to see John but you were quick to tell them he was sleeping and you would bring them in as soon as he had woken up. You had busied yourself with cleaning and making the family breakfast with a baby on your hip. By the time everyone was fed and Lily was down for a nap you prepared yourself for your children to see John. Reminding them that their father was in bad shape and it was okay to be upset when they saw him.
Evelyn and Jj stood shoulder to shoulder outside your bedroom door. Jj had his card and a poorly wrapped package while Evelyn held a flower she picked from your garden, card, and then something else she had hidden behind her back. You didn’t bother asking what it was, you had too much on your mind. It made your heart ache lessen seeing your children prepare gifts for John without you asking them to do so.
Slowly you peaked your head into the room to check John was ready, which he was. Opening the door you allowed your children to make their way into the room. You knew the sight of John would have both your children in tears or stunned silence. It was something they had never seen and you unfortunately had too many times.
Stepping into the room you watched the box Jj was holding fall to the ground with a thud and Evelyns hands drop by her sides no longer attempting to hide the nip of whiskey she stole from John’s desk. This was an earth shattering moment for your children. Something they would never forget and think about for years to come.
John was laying in bed shirtless pillows underneath his head and shoulders so he was propped up at a 45 degree angle. There were thick white bandages wrapped tightly around his rib cage. A bandage covering his left shoulder entirely that went down to his elbow, that was where he had gotten shot. The bullet had gone straight through which meant he did not need surgery, in fact he was lucky. You weren’t to sure how lucky he was when the doctor told you that. There were faded splotches of brown deep within the coverings. You would need to change them after your children were out of the room.
The grey sweatpants John wore were baggier than usual showing how much weight he had lost along with muscle tone. One pant leg was rolled up to his left knee and a white cast was fashioned over his shin and covered his foot, his toes still being visible. The bruises that littered his body were dark and set in. The edges just beginning to turn green as they started to heal.
John had a cotton patch covering his right eye leaving his vision impaired. He had hit his face as he fell out of the helicopter then landing badly broke his leg on impact. Gaz helped John hobble to safety where a firefight ensued and John was shot. Gaz told you he thought he was dead at first because John passed out from pain. They were lucky the med evac was able to get to them and Gaz kept his promise to you; keeping John safe.
“Gotten taller Jj. And look at you Evie, the haircut suits you.” John’s voice was strained as he turned his head towards his children. Unable to move his body without being in immense pain he gave both his children his most confident smile. It faltered from how much pain he was in but he was doing his best to hide it.
Evelyn tore out of the room sprinting down the stairs. The flower, card, and nip of whiskey clattering to the floor in her wake. You watched John’s grey eyes flash with sadness. Being so physically hurt and to now be dealing with the emotional stress was not what he needed. You told him it was too soon for the kids to see him. You had contemplated having your children stay with family until John was in better shape but he broke down at the mention of it. Telling you he needed his family there to remind himself why he does what he does.
“Daddy, can I sit on the bed with you?” Jj was trembling as he asked. Taking a moment to pick up the small shoe box wrapped in Christmas warping paper and all of Evelyns things. Jj hadn’t called you ‘mummy’ or John ‘daddy’ for over three years now. To hear him regressing had you turning in the doorway in attempt to gather yourself.
“‘Course you can.” John patted the bed lightly beaconing his son to come join him. John watched as you hid your face from Jj in an attempt for him to not see you cry. You had been hiding away to cry so John wouldn’t feel guilty but he begged you not to. It hurt more to see the way your shoulders shook as you held back sobs; trying to be strong for your children and him. John would give anything in the world to take away the pain his family was feeling. No amount of physical injuries compared to seeing his daughter run away at the sight of him or have his son calling him ‘daddy’ again.
“I’m going to go check on Evie.” You quickly excused yourself. Voice cracking and cheeks rosy.
“We made you this.” With shaky hands Jj placed everything on the bed as he slowly sat himself by his fathers side. Trying not to move the mattress and cause his father pain.
“Could you open the cards and read them to me?” John asked quietly. He wasn’t able to lift his arm high enough to read them himself and with one eye covered he wasn’t sure if attempting to read would give him another migraine. Jj nodded, lips fixed in a firm frown.
“D-dear daddy, I hope you feel better soon. Mummy put me in rock climbing classes and I can’t wait to show you how cool it is. Love, Evie. P.S. what does P.S. stand for? Anyway I want you to have all my candy.” Jj paused for a second, avoiding his fathers gaze.
It was obvious through her letter she did not expect her father to be bed ridden. The injuries far beyond what the seven year old thought imaginable.
“She drew a bunch of hearts and a picture of her rock climbing. That’s you watching her.” Jj held up the card so John could see the cute drawing his daughter had done for him. The drawing of him fashioned with his signature bucket hat and a cigar in his mouth, she even drew his muttonchops.
“She’s always been quite the artist. Let me hear yours.” John chuckled very lightly then immediately wincing and coughing violently. He couldn’t even laugh lightly without his shoulder and ribs hurting. Coughing had his whole body setting ablaze as pain racked through him. It took all of John not to start cursing and groaning in pain so his son wouldn’t worry anymore than he already was.
“Um, no it’s okay. You can read it when you’re better.” Jj tried to avoid reading his card out loud. A wave of insecurity crashing over him.
“Please J, it would make me feel better.” John watched as tears dropped onto the blue construction paper from Jj’s matching eyes, his sons head hung low. The front was crudely decorated with a drawing of a medal that said ‘#1 dad.’ Jj took a breath before he spoke. His his hands begging to shake as he opened the card.
“Dear dad, You have to get better soon because you’re my hero. Mum, Evie, and Lily really need you. Love, Jj.” The tears came fast as Jj began to crying into his palms; the card falling to the soft bedsheets.
“I’m sorry dad, I-I know I shouldn’t c-ry.” The words came out broken and strained as Jj cried uncontrollably. Hiccups straining from his sore throat.
John’s chest tightened and all the air left his lungs, he was at a loss for words. It felt like an elephant had just sat on his chest. Seeing his little boy like this and hearing his card broke something in John. How could he live up to being the hero his son saw him as? Writing how his sisters and you needed him but leaving himself out so John wouldn’t worry about him.
Jj attempted to take deep breaths to calm himself down. Then almost completely stopping his crying as he finally looked up at his fathers face.
For the first time in Jj’s life he watched as his dad cried. Silent tears rolling down Johns cheek and dripping off his hairy bruised jaw and onto the bandages. Maybe you were right and John could have waited to see his children. Instead of putting them through this and traumatizing them. The guilt that consumed John had his stomach turning and heart heavy.
“I’ll get better as fast as I can so I can take care of all of you.” With his good hand John slowly rubbed the tears away, sniffling as he did so. Jj watched in awe as his father seamlessly gathered himself and was back to his normal stoic self as if he hadn’t just shed a few tears.
“We, have candy for you.” Jj quickly grabbed the box and showed it to John. Doing anything in his power to make his dad feel better. It was easier for the boys to move to the next subject than to talk about their emotional display. John didn’t know but he had just taught his son it was okay to cry because even someone as strong and manly as John wasn’t embarrassed to do so.
“Open it up. I could go for a piece of taffy right about now.” John said attempting to be light hearted. Jj finally smiled lightly as he tore the wrapping paper off and searched the box of candy for taffy and a Milky Way for himself.
——————
“Evie, come down. I know you’re up there.” You were standing at the edge of the woods behind your family home. You had to walk around the chicken coop to get over there which was bit of a headache since you were in bare feet. John had built a tree house for Evelyn and Jj over the last summer while you were pregnant and it had become the little girls safe place. That being said it was always a troop to walk out here and get her.
The tree house was painted maroon with a deep green roof. There were three windows on each side with the front facing one having a little flower box. It was filled with actions figures and toy soldiers with their guns and weapons drawn. They were placed there to keep intruders out. Painted in white at the bottom of the tree house was ‘Grownups Beware!’ You and John chuckled that the kids had added that and decided to not encroach on their space. Leaving this the only area untouched by adults.
“No.” She said in a bratty tone. Evelyn could be a handful most times and was known for either being sweet as pie or grumpy. There was hardly an in between but when she was sad or upset she tended to act out. With a sigh you walked over to the tree that housed the sturdy structure. Peering up through the open hatch you tried to see if your daughter would come down.
“Fine, I guess I’ll just have to come up.” You warned, getting no response.
The only sound being the lively insects chirping and the birds singing deep in the woods. Looking around you admired the forest around you. The foliage was thick creating a canopy of shade and keeping the hot sun at bay. The forest floor was slightly damp, small flowers just beginning to pop up out of the earth. You turned to look back at your house in the distance and then over to the pond that was barley visible through the trees. Moving you started your climb up the wooden planks John had nailed into the tree to make a ladder.
Peaking your head through the square hatch you saw your ponytailed girl. She was huddled up against the wall right underneath the window. She had her stuffed octopus hugged tight to her chest.
The inside of the tree house was decorated with stickers and pictures Evelyn took on her Polaroid she got last Christmas. There were pillows and blankets neatly folded by Jj in the corner on top of the old worn chest. A table with art supplies and a lantern sat to Evelyns left, the chairs tipped over and laying on their sides. John had decked the place out even installing shutters so if it rained they could shut them and keep the rain out. The ceiling was covered in glow in the dark stars.
“How are you doing?” You asked sitting on the floor and letting your feet dangle through the opening.
“Daddy’s faking it right?” Evelyns bottom lip quivered already knowing the answer. Wipping her eyes with the back of her hands pretending like she wasn’t crying.
“No, he’s not, sweetheart.” You reach out for her and she crawled over curling up into your side. You hugged her close resting your chin atop her head.
“Did someone beat him up? I thought Ghosty would protect him or Suds and Gaz.” Her watery blue eyes looked up at your for answers. It was hard for you to see your daughter like this. Not quite old enough to understand what was going on like Jj was. You just prayed you weren’t fucking up as a mom.
“No one beat him up. He fell out of a helicopter.” You told her the truth hoping it wasn’t too much.
“Then he shouldn’t go in heli’s ever again.” The tears stopped and Evelyns mind was made up. You could see the flash of determination igniting in her eyes. She’d be damned if her father ever got into a helicopter again.
“You know, I agree with you. But we can’t stop him from doing his job.” You tried to reason rubbing her back hoping she wouldn’t give John too much trouble.
“I don’t like his job anymore.” She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.
“That’s okay, sweetheart. I bet he’d be okay talking to you about it.” You let her know. It was something you and John had already discussed. John didn’t want you to have to answer for his choices and decision to be in the military. It was his duty as their father and your husband to be acountable for his profession and what I would do to your family.
“Really?” Evelyn perked up now intrigued this wasn’t an off limits conversation.
“I talk to him about it all the time when you two aren’t around. He knows how much it scares me but after we talk about it I end up feeling a lot better.” For first time in the past few days the truth didn’t taste acrid on your tongue. It was a relief to be able to share some positive things with your daughter.
“Do you think I can talk to him now?” Evelyn asked, grabbing her stuffed octopus and turning the the little tile on the wall to show she was the last one in there. There was a blue side for Jj and an orange one for her.
“Yes, I’ll give you a piggy back ride to the house.” Your words had Evelyn nodding and a smile finally spreading across her face.
“Could Jj feed the chickens today? I’ll take Molly for a walk instead.” She asked as she began to climb down the ladder.
“You’re going to have to ask Jj.” You laughed lightly. Knowing Evelyn only asked right now hoping you’d slip up and say ‘yes’ because you were preoccupied. She giggled at your words clearly noticing she hadn’t outsmarted you. Maybe one day.
——————
“But I don’t want to feed the chickens.”
“Evelyn, don’t argue with your mother.” John’s deep and commanding voice came from your bedroom.
Evelyn jumped slightly not expecting to be scolded by her father, who she thought was out of ear shot. You and her were standing in Lily’s room while you changed your five month olds diaper. John had become bored of television and books resorting to ease dropping for entertainment.
“Run along Evie, I have to feed Lily and get things ready for your Nan and Grandad to come over.” You nodded your head towards the door, following behind as you both went to do your chores. It had been four days since Jj and Evelyn first saw their dad in bad shape. Things seemed to have become okay in the house as everyone except John fell back into their normal routine.
“Nan better be nice to you.” Evelyn warned as she ran down the hall then to the stairs. The little girl threw her leg over the banister and slid down to the first floor.
“Evelyn! How many times do I have to say not to slide down the railing.” You half shouted.
“STOP GIVING YOUR MUM A HARD TIME!” John’s voiced boomed through the house making you jump slightly. A squeal of surprise echoed up the stairs. Evelyn hadn’t been yelled at by her father since he had gotten home and was not about to stick around for another scolding.
“John, settle down. You need to rest.” You sighed out completely exasperated at his strong reaction. You walked into the room to see him fidgeting with his overgrown beard.
“I’m bloody tired of resting. I need to get out of this damn room and have some fresh air.” John attempted to get up from his spot on the bed. Only to groan out in pain and sink back into the mattress. His good hand coming and cradling his shoulder where his worst injury was.
“I’ll open the windows.” You we’re glaring at your husband for trying to get up on his own.
“Fuck the windows help me downstairs.” It came off as an order which you weren’t to keen on. Stopping in front of John and raising your eyebrows at him as if to challenge him to continue being grumpy.
“Weren’t you just yelling at Evie to not give me a hard time? Take your own advice.” John sighed deeply at your words. You were right.
“Sorry. . . I’m going stir crazy and the idea of seeing my mother today is driving me mad. Im stressed she’s going to be rude about Lily.” The stress that washed over John was palpable. The pair of you were dreading Mary coming over. The two of you hadn’t seen her since Christmas but when she found out John had been injured she begged to come check on him. You were both weary but John did want to see his mother and hopefully bury the hatchet. And you understood a mothers love well enough that you were okay with Mary coming to check on her son.
“Well she’s the spitting image of you so there’s not much she can say.” You reasoned trying to quell John’s anxieties. Coming over and standing next to him so he could hold his little girls chubby hand.
“Never thought if Lily looked like me she’d end up pretty. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Right, peanut?” John gave the little girl a goofy face making her round cheeks turn up in a smile. A hearty and gruff laugh left your husbands parted lips. John’s children held the key to cheering him up and you adored that about him.
“You are a cutie aren’t you.” You cooed at your baby girl poking her chubby belly a chorus of giggles erupting from her.
“Let me hold her.” John was smiling widely as he reached his good arm out for his youngest daughter. Just like when she was born John wanted her to sleep on his chest. It was tradition at this point, all your children loved to nap on John but Lily especially did.
“No, John she’s going to pull at your bandages or hurt you and I need to breast feed.” You kissed John’s forehead, then walked away ignoring the frown he was giving you.
“Darling, how much longer are you going to treat me like an invalid.” John’s bad mood was back just as quickly as it had gone.
“Until you can get up and go to the bathroom without my help. You can’t even get out of bed or off the toilet without me. Think I’m going to trust you holding our baby?” You smiled sweetly. Making your way into the bathroom to grab a hand towel to use while you breast fed Lily.
“Bloody tyrant.” John grumbled to himself. He could hobble around just fine he just couldn’t get up on his feet without help in fear of tearing open his stitches.
John wasn’t actually frustrated with you he was annoyed at being incapable of spending quality time with his kids. The only good thing to happen in the past five days of being home was he could finally take the eye patch off after a home visit from his doctor. Well not the only good thing. Jj had been playing chess with John every day, you lost at scrabble last night, and Evelyn put on a play for him about helicopter safety. Which was mainly her making him promise to wear a seatbelt. So it wasn’t all bad.
“Sorry, didn’t quite hear you.” You whipped around and walked back into the room. John froze instantly regretting being curt with you.
“Sorry.” John apologized instantly.
Being on your bad side while he was bed ridden was not a smart move. You could easily ‘forget’ to bring him lunch or straight up ignore him. John would be screwed if you lost your kindness because he pissed you off. He should be thanking his lucky stars you were so sweet taking into account how grumpy he had been. Especially considering how kind you were the previous night giving him a show and settling your head between his thighs giving him some much needed stress relief and adult entertainment.
“That’s what I thought. And if I’m a tyrant I learned it from you.” You volleyed back. Ignoring how John rolled his eyes at you. No wonder the kids gave you such a hard time when their father could be such a smart ass.
“Mum! Grandad and Nan just pulled up!” Jj called from the front door. You had already pulled yourself free and gave your daughter what she had begun to fuss for.
Jj had just come in after taking Molly your tri-colored Border Collie for a walk. You and John had gotten her because when you originally moved in you wanted lambs and you needed a cattle dog for that. After becoming pregnant you two continued to put it off until Evelyn was two. Molly proved to be horrible at herding so you gave up on your dream of having lambs and settled for chickens.
Molly was the sweetest girl who loved to cuddle but was incredibly clumsy and a bit dumb. It made you and John laugh, her quirks only had you loving her more. She was truly Jj’s dog, sleeping in his room every night since he was four. They were the best of friends and she tended to follow him around where ever he went. Only leaving his side when there was food or a chipmunk to chase. She would wait on the front porch for Evelyn and Jj’s bus to drop them off and then she would sprint to him, greeting him after school. She also would book it to the pond if you weren’t paying attention which ended up in you having to hose her and Jj off because he’d have to pull her out of the water. John had trained Molly well enough that she listened to basic commands and could be off leash most times but she was unruly and unpredictable.
Jj was overly protective of Molly. Hating when his grandparents complained that she would beg for food or claiming she was too dumb to herd. You and John would rebut saying she was great at keeping the kids close by which she did. She was so sweet when Evelyn would try and run off. Standing by her and letting the little girl tug on her fur and guiding her back when she went too far.
Jj knew his dad grew up with a slew of dogs and that his grandad prided himself on them being amazingly trained. Molly just wanted to be loved and you all didn’t care about her quirks it was just more of a reason to love her. Jj was dreading seeing his grand parent for so many reasons. He knew his Nan would comment about Molly which he was use to but what scared him was her comments about Lily.
Jj stood up for Evelyn every chance he had. Since they went to the same school it had become normalcy for the Price children. Something changed for Jj when Lily was born. He was annoyed to have a new sibling but after seeing you in such horrible pain and scared out of your mind things changed.
When Jj held Lily for the first time in the hospital room he knew he’d love her forever. A picture of them being snapped as he told you he was so happy to have another little sister and wished John could be there. The knowledge that his Nan was not allowed to meet her making him even more protective over his baby sister. John saw how much his son took after him. The need to protect and provide in his sons genes just like his own. John hated to admit that Jj was turning out just like him and would most likely follow his path into the military.
“Look at you! So tall, little lad.” Paul, John’s father praised as he held the back door open for his wife Mary.
“Jj, you’re tall just like Johnny was at your age!” Mary pushed past her husband and quickly wrapped Jj up in a tight hug. Molly was quick to jump up on Paul and tried to do the same to Mary.
“Johnny needs to train her better. So she shouldn’t jump.” Paul pushed the dog off his wife. Reprimanding her and attempting a command she didn’t know.
“She’s fine.” Jj mumbled calling for Molly to follow him to the fridge so he could give her some cheese. Wiping the lipstick smudge off his cheek that his grandmother had left.
“Hey, you two. It’s been awhile.” Your sweet voice hung in the air like smog. Jj was stressed and the feeling quickly subsided as Molly weaved her way between his legs and sat down. Pushing him back a few inches begging him to give her attention.
“Y/N.” Mary said curtly looking past you as if you didn’t exist.
“You look healthy, love.” Paul ignored Mary’s rudeness and hugged you firmly, holding on for a second too long. You could tell he missed you and was stressed about seeing his son wounded and bed ridden.
“Wheres Evie?” Mary half forced herself between you and Paul. Tugging his arm so he would stop greeting you and being pleasant.
“Probably in the tree house.” You stated with a smile undeserving of Mary.
“You’re not going to have her say hello?” Mary was in normal form questioning your choices as a mother. You were happy John had somehow convinced you to leave Lily upstairs with him.
“Evie doesn’t want to say hello and that should be okay.” Jj’s voice cut through the conversation. He repeated the same words you had said to your husband the previous night while him and Jj played chess.
“Jj don’t be rude.” You quickly scolded.
“But sh-“
“Doesn’t matter. Apologize to your Nan. That’s not how we talk.” Even if Mary was a piece of work you still did not accept your son being rude to anyone. There was no need to be bratty in an attempt to defend you. You were a grown woman capable handling this on your own.
“No.” Jj wasn’t normally defiant but he was insanely upset at his grandmother and booked it out the back door going to join his sister in the tree house.
Jj had heard his grandmother call you a ‘slag’ multiple times but didn’t know what the word meant until recently. He had no room for forgiveness and he didn’t understand how you did. Especially because he overheard you tell John about the nasty texts and voicemails she left after Christmas. The word ‘bastard’ being used which seemed to upset his father the most. Jj didn’t know what the word meant, only that it was a bad one.
“I wish I could say I ‘don’t know whats gotten into him.’ But I think we all get it. They’re still very upset about Christmas.” You explained only to get a obnoxious eye roll from Mary. God, you wanted to throttle her and kick her out but you didn’t for the sake of your husband.
“I’m only here to see Johnny.” It was easy for Mary to ignore your sweet nature. She was convinced it was all a facade and you were a ‘manipulative, disloyal, slag’. As she wrote in one of her texts.
“Okay, follow me.” You said in a sickly sweet voice that you all knew was fake. You weren’t going to give Mary a scrap of ammunition or anything to complain about.
“The weight after the third is hard to get rid of isn’t it?” Mary’s words were snarky and mean.
You instantly felt your cheeks begin to burn from embarrassment. So what, you had gained a bit of weight you just had a baby four months ago. John seemed to love it, worshiping the stretch marks and leaving gentle kisses on your stomach and thighs. When you complained about it he told you there was more of you to love. Which made you cross for only a moment. John was quick to remind you how beautiful he found you and thanked you for making him a father.
You already felt self conscious enough having just had your third child. Mary knew no detail of how traumatizing and brutal the birth was and you held back all the rage you had for her and kept quiet. Leading her and Paul up to your bedroom as Paul scolded Mary to behave and then told you, you looked beautiful and John was a lucky man.
The only reason you did not freak out and tell Mary how horrible she was, was for the sake of Lily who was happily napping on John’s chest upstairs. She had passed out as soon as she was done breast feeding. Lily was a daddy’s girl the moment she came into this world. Only settling down to the sound of John’s deep and gruff voice. She never stirred when he yelled and slept the best in his arms. John had to send a recording of his gentle words and cooed to his baby to help her fall asleep while he was away. Her fussy nature subsided immediately when John came home when she was five days old.
“John, you look like shit” Paul used humor to cope as he saw his son laid up in bed. It pained John’s parents to see him in such bad shape. A reminder their son was risking his life on a normal basis. Leg raises in a cast and shoulder and chest wrapped in thick bandages. The bruises that littered his body were beginning to heal. It looked like he had gotten hit by a bus.
“And this is?” Mary asked with tears in her eyes. Lily was drooling onto John’s bare chest, her cheeks rosy and thick brown hair curling around her ears. She was a pretty baby and looked exactly like John, even with her bright blue eyes closed.
“This is Lily.” John said simply, eyes fixed on his baby girl and not bothering to look at his mother. Ignoring his injuries and running his hand over her sweet snoring face, John winced at he pain of his gun shot wound.
“S-she looks just like you.” Mary choked on her words. She was so overwhelmed seeing her son like this and knowing she had a new grandchild. She felt enraged no one had told her sooner.
Mary adamantly thought you had cheated on John and she had no claim to this child. Saying horrible things and refusing to even hear the name you two had picked out. Now standing in your bedroom doorway and seeing she was clearly wrong and had ignored her grandchild for four months was sickening. Lily looked exactly like John, down to the little freckle on her nose. Mary was feeling utterly humiliated for the things she had said and the way she had treated her grand daughter. If you thought Mary would surrender and apologize you were sadly mistaken.
“I’ll take her so you three can chat.” You made your way over to John. Scooping you little one into your arms and watching as she frowned in her sleep being taken away from John.
“Can I hold her?” Mary asked. Arms already outstretched and going to take Lily from you.
“Not right now. Maybe another time.” Quickly you dodged Mary’s arms only for her to step in front of you so you couldn’t get to the door.
“And why is that?” Mary challenged. The audacity had you shocked.
“Because you don’t think she’s John’s.” The frustration was evident in your voice. You couldn’t hide the anger and disgust you had for the woman in front of you who so blatantly hated you.
“It’s clear she is.” Mary attempted to take Lily again and John watched as you flinched and stepped back.
“Then an apology is in order.” John was quick to insert. Hating how he couldn’t stand by your side and support you.
“She may happen to be yours Johnny but that does not mean Y/N is deserving of an apology. After everything you’ve done, tearing our family apart. The least you could do is let me hold my last grandchild.” The gaslighting and victim complex Mary had made you feel uneasy. Even when she was wrong her pride was to big for her to apologize to you.
“I’m going to need time before I’m comfortable with you holding her.” You stepped back again as Mary attempted to take your sleeping baby. Placing your hand protectively over the back of Lily’s head.
“You’ve married such a cruel woman.” Mary turned to John as if he’d help her get what she wanted. As if John’s loyalty to her out weighed her nasty behavior.
“Mum for the love of God stop.” John started to shout and quickly died off by the end. This was not going how he expected and he was getting angrier by the second.
“Mary, please.” Paul rested his hand on his wife’s shoulder. Everyone in the room was begging for her to settle down and drop it.
You felt intimidated and slightly scared at Mary’s quick turn on you. She had that same look in her eyes from the night she called you a slag. You weren’t someone who lived in fear or allowed people to have the kind of power over you. But after hearing the things Mary had said and how aggressive she could be in person put you on edge. With your husband held up in bed and unable to physically come to your aid had you wanting to run for the exit. It may be irrational but you feared for Lily’s safety even though you knew Mary was all bark and no bite.
“It’s just a matter of time before she gives you a bastard.” The words cut you down in one clean blow, leaving a painful ache in your chest. You have had some cruel words spat in your face by ex lovers, loved ones, strangers and people who didn’t particularly like you. This felt like the lowest blow Mary had taken and you wished she would have continued to comment on your appearance rather than your loyalty and ability to have another child.
John saw the pain in flash in your eyes. You only allowed it to be seen for a split second before you were back to being straight faced. That comment had John’s blood coursing fast and hot through his veins. He knew the hurt you were feeling was deeper than just cruel words that held little weight. You had lost so much having Lily and the possibility of you having anymore children had been snatched away from you.
John wasn’t there when they told you, in fact he missed the entire birth. But when you confided in him when he got home you were a wreck. John would never forget how you told him it was like you had part of your womanhood stolen from you. John didn’t know if his mother knew about your hysterectomy but those words were still unwelcome in his home. Especially because John knew you were still grieving over it and mostly likely would be for awhile.
“Mum I was really hoping we could start mending bridges. Clearly I was too optimistic. I think it’s time for you to go.” John was shifting up to sit up completely straight. The pain that screamed from his injuries was ignored as if they were nonexistent. John watched your eyes go wide at him moving like that, you were scared he would rip his stitches. With a simple raise of his hand you bit your tongue holding back the worried words that were clawing their way up your throat.
“You use to be strong Johnathan. But look at you now. Laid up in bed and taking orders from a woman who’s damaged goods. You’ve lost your self respect.” Mary’s words were said with so much disdain that you had never seen thrown in the direction of her youngest son.
Not only was she being cruel to you she had finally snapped and went after John. Trying to find the most backhanded way to question his manhood and shame him. She turned on her heels, her long black cardigan flowing in her haste and she left. The air was dense in your bedroom as you processed how quickly things had devolved.
“You’re okay with her acting like that?” John snapped at his father who had been almost silent up until this point.
“For better or worse. In sickness and in health.” Paul’s words were melancholic as he nodded at his son and then at you. It felt like a cope out and Paul would never truly acknowledge the disturbing side of the woman he married.
“Never thought for a second you’d be unfaithful to my boy. I’m sorry for Mary.” Paul gently placed his hand on your shoulder the other coming up to rest on Lily back.
“Lily’s a beautiful name and she looks exactly like you Johnny. . . I hope you feel better soon.” Paul’s voice cracked slightly on John’s name.
The pained expression on his aging face made you sick to your stomach. It felt like a disservice for Paul to not come to Johns defense and knowingly stay away from Lily because Mary told him so. You knew Paul loved each one of his children and would do almost anything for his family. He just couldn’t stand up to his wife. Marys wrath and opinions had caused so much strain in your and John’s marriage and it’s what ended Harrison and Amy’s. You wondered how many people have to suffer for Paul to open his eyes.
“Why don’t you stay? I can give you a ride home.” You asked. A spark of hope flickering in your chest at the idea John might be able to get Paul to come around.
“Best I get going. Don’t need Mary cross with me too.” The words were meant to be humorous but you and John worried she’d go after him verbally but it was far from your place to get involved. You turned to see the anger etched so deep in your husbands face you felt it best for you to not be apart of what he had to say to his father.
Stepping out you gave John and his father a minute alone. Choosing to put Lily down in her crib and get started on lunch. You decided the tears and hurt feelings could wait for when you showered before bed. It would only make things worse, in your opinion, if the kids or John knew how upset that last comment of Mary’s made you.
It was one thing for her to go after you, you expected that. But for her to go after John you knew would wound him greater than any of the ones that already riddled his body. His mother visiting was suppose to lift his spirits and they were going to start over so hopefully she could be apart of his children’s lives. Now, that glimmer of hope had been snuffed out and you knew John was going to struggle dealing with it. He had told you he was going to cut his mother out if things went poorly and now John was going to have to deal with that pain.
You could see Mary sitting in the cab of Paul’s black truck refusing to even glance at the house while you prepared John’s lunch. It took no longer than ten minutes before Paul gave you a hug goodbye and they were on their way. You dreaded bringing Johns sandwich up to him knowing he was going to be silent out of frustration.
Stepping into your bedroom you were surprised to see your king sized bed empty. The panic that plagued you was suffocating and immediate. John wasn’t suppose to be moving without assistance with his injuries and you were terrified he might have fallen and was laying on the bathroom floor with torn stitches.
You shot to the bedside table to place the plate and glass of water then quickly made your way to the bathroom door. Bursting in without knocking you and John both screamed at each other in shock. John was seated on the toilet with his pants around his ankles and you quickly ran out of the bathroom with your hands covering your eyes.
“Bloody hell Y/N!” John shouted at you turning red in the face.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I thought you fell! How’d you get in there?” You bellowed out slamming the door behind you. Trying to erase the image of him you had just seen so you could look John in the eyes later.
“My dad helped me up! For fucks sake you’re worse than the kids! Bloody knock next time!” John was yelling through the thick wood of the bathroom door. You knew if he wasn’t in a bad mood previously he was now. Now his anger was directed at you which was not going to be fun to deal with. John never took embarrassment well.
You weren’t sure you’d get the image of him shirtless on the toilet out of your head. You and John were pretty good about privacy only having seen each other in compromising positions like that maybe a dozen times in your long history together. When it came to you helping him while injured he’d tell you to look away which you respected and so did he when you had needed assistance after birth. Some mystery was gladly acceptable by the pair of you.
“Did dad just yell at you?” Jj was standing in the bedroom doorway wide eyed. John never yelled at you unless he was on a suicide mission. Both your children considered you the cross one not hiding your annoyance with their father but he hardly ever showed it with you.
“Yes, he did.” Your voice was high pitched. Now realizing the only reason your son was in here was because he was looking for lunch that you had fallen behind on.
“Molly, NO!” Jj lunged forward. Turning you saw the tri-colored border collie licking at your husbands sandwich you placed on the night stand. In seconds she had John’s roast beef sandwich clasped between her jaw, trying to house it down in a few bites. She paused for only a second as Jj tried to snatch it from her, before she was dashing for the door accidentally knocking Jj over.
“MOLLY!” You yelled chasing after her. Jj was a foot behind you as you chased the poor dog around the house and out to the backyard. Molly thought it was a game and you didn’t want her eating table food and getting an upset stomach. Evelyn and Jj found it hilarious watching you chase after the family dog who had a thick sandwich in her mouth. Evelyn may or may not have taken a Polaroid picture of you mid sprint after Molly by the chicken coop.
After the stunt was over and you accepted your defeat, you made your way back inside. Bringing yourself back into mom mode, you made your children Mac and cheese and frozen fish fingers because you were too exhausted to do anything else. They both complained at you that they wanted the lunch they were promised; which was fish and chips. The glare you gave them had ‘thank you’s ’ rolling off their tongues. The quick rebuttal of ‘so for dinner?’ Following their complaints. That’s when your remembered John had requested fish and chips for lunch. You had honestly completely forgot about him having become so sidetracked.
That when it hit you. You had abandoned John to be stuck on the toilet for nearly an hour. To say he was upset would not do it justice. John was convinced you left him there because you were mad that he yelled at you. No convincing could change his mind and for years to come he would snipe at you for leaving him stranded on the toilet. He didn’t even get fish and chips like he’d asked for which had him complaining even more.
John had to eat cold Mac and cheese and some fish fingers you threw into the air fryer. The complaints stopped after dinner when he’d finally gotten the food he requested. Telling you he would prefer to not talk about what happened with his mother for some time. It was too fresh for him and John needed time to work through it on his own. He was open to hear your feelings and was a true help.
So you gave him the space he needed on the subject and cuddled next to him in bed. When you breast fed Lily next to him and shared your plate of assorted snack you’d gathered as your own dinner later that night. John realized you hadn’t eaten anything that day until now. Some baby puffs you fed Lily, crackers, sliced cheese, a handful of fruit and nuts, a little bowl of hummus, and a half slice of coffee cake was your dinner.
John then realized you normally did not make yourself dinner and just snacked on the leftovers like a little mouse. John did not let that last. After that night he would randomly order takeaway to show up at your door for only you. You swooned over him seeing your dinner show up each night after the kids had gone to bed. John always guessed right on your cravings and you happily shared with him. He couldn’t do much to romance you but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.
By the time this recent dinner showed up, it was a week later. John was just healed enough to be moving around the house on crutches. You suggested some slow love making which had John giddy. Good thing he had just sent in a request for two dozen roses as a small thank you for taking care of him. They’d be there first thing in the morning after your lovely night together. The sweet gesture just might involve some romance right after breakfast when the children had gone to school. John prayed for the best hoping things could finally turn around for your family. Hoping to leave his mother in the past and move forward.
~~~~~tag list~~~~~
@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea
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songbirdseung · 9 months ago
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hi, neighbor / sim jaeyun
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sim jake moved into your neighborhood, right next to your house, specifically. usually, you wouldn't care for it but this time when your mom pushed and dragged you to their house, you had no choice. what's gonna happen when you meet the boy next door? genre strangers to lovers, neighbor au warnings kisses, one sensual joke i think, lmk if i missed anything
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Reluctantly, you knock on the door, your mom already hurrying back home with a giggle, throwing you a thumbs up as she leaves you standing at the neighbor's front doorstep. In your hands is a basket of homemade treats, a welcoming gift for the new family next door. You sigh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.
As soon as you hear the front door unlock, you straighten up and force a smile onto your face, but you're not prepared for the stranger who opens the door.
"Can I help you?"
Your eyes land on a handsome guy with a sweet smile and pretty eyes, and for a moment, you forget how to speak. After what feels like minutes of silence but is really only seconds, you manage to find your voice. "Uh… hi, I'm your neighbor, YN."
He lets out a small grunt of acknowledgment but says nothing more. However, his eyes remain fixed on you, silently judging you from head to toe, taking in every detail.
You clear your throat before continuing, "My mom and I baked some things for you and your family… to welcome you." Your smile stays in place, even in the face of his silence.
He glances down at the basket in your hands, then looks back up at you. After a low hum, he takes the basket, his eyes still on you, yet he remains silent. It feels like you're being scrutinized by a hawk, and you're just small prey.
When he says nothing else after a few seconds, you nod and bid him goodbye. As you turn away, you silently mouth, "What the hell?" and walk back home, your mind repeating the lack of even a simple "thank you."
He watches you walk away before shutting the door, placing the basket on the hallway counter, and disappearing further into the house.
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A few days passed without any sign of him. You’d catch glimpses of movement from his house, but he was always coming and going at odd times, slipping in and out like a shadow. It was almost as if he was deliberately avoiding any chance encounters. Up to this point, you still didn’t know his name, and you’d started to wonder if you’d ever see him again, or if your awkward doorstep meeting was going to be the extent of your interaction.
Then, one evening, something changed. You had just finished dinner and settled into the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and half-watching one of your favorite comfort movies. The room was dim, with only the soft glow of the TV lighting up the space. It was a quiet, cozy night—until the sound of a knock on the door broke the stillness.
At first, you were hesitant. Who could it be at this hour? But curiosity got the best of you, so you paused the movie and made your way to the door. As you opened it, there he was—your good-looking but kind of rude neighbor. He stood there, looking a bit uncomfortable, his hands tucked into his pockets.
His expression was difficult to read as he gave you a quick once-over before speaking. “Do you have any sugar to spare? My mom ran out while baking.”
You couldn’t help but think, What is this, the 1920s? Who even asks their neighbors for stuff anymore, especially when you can order anything online? But despite the oddness of the situation, you found yourself smiling politely and nodding. “Sure, give me a second.” You turned and headed to the kitchen, shaking your head a little at the situation.
When you returned with a small bag of sugar, he took it from you, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. He seemed like he wanted to say something more, his eyes flicking to yours and then away again, as if debating whether or not to speak.
“Thanks,” he finally said, his voice low and slightly rough, like he wasn’t used to saying the word. You nodded, telling him it was no problem, but there was an awkward silence that hung between you.
After a beat, he broke it, asking, “How old are you?” There was a subtle change in his tone—softer, almost hesitant, as if he was venturing into unfamiliar territory.
“Uh, I’m 22, born in 2002,” you replied, slightly taken aback by the personal question. He nodded thoughtfully, and you found out that he was only a few months younger than you, which surprised you for some reason. You had pegged him for someone older, more distant.
He cleared his throat, shifting slightly as if gathering the courage to ask his next question. “Are you single?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of it. “I am… why?”
He looked at you, his expression almost disbelieving, as if he was surprised by your answer. “Just curious,” he said with a shrug, his voice casual, as if the question hadn’t carried any real weight. But there was something in his eyes, a flicker of something deeper, that made you wonder if it really was just a casual question.
Before you could respond or ask him anything in return, he turned to leave, his footsteps echoing softly on the porch. You felt a strange urge to stop him, to learn more about this mysterious neighbor who had piqued your curiosity despite his odd behavior.
You quickly stepped out the door and called after him, “Wait, what’s your name?”
He paused, turning back to face you, his expression softening just a little. “It’s Jake,” he said, nodding at you before continuing on his way. There was something different about him this time, a subtle shift in his demeanor. As he walked away, you noticed he seemed more relaxed, less guarded than before.
You stood there for a moment, watching him disappear into the night, your mind racing with questions. Who was this guy, really? And why did he suddenly seem interested in you? As you finally closed the door and returned to your movie, you couldn’t help but feel that this was only the beginning of something much more complicated.
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The next few days pass by in a mostly normal routine, but you can’t help but notice that whenever you’re outside in your yard, you occasionally catch Jake looking out his window at you. Like today, for instance. It’s a scorching summer afternoon, the kind where the heat makes the air feel thick with humidity. You’re in the backyard, lounging by the pool, trying to cool off when you suddenly get the distinct feeling that someone is watching you.
You glance up toward Jake’s window, and sure enough, there he is. He’s not even trying to be subtle about it, leaning casually against his windowsill, his eyes locked on you.
When you wave at him, he looks momentarily shocked that you’ve noticed him staring. But after a brief pause, he slowly smiles and raises a hand to wave back.
Minutes tick by, and he’s still there, watching you with an intensity that you can’t quite figure out. It’s only when his older brother walks into the room that the spell is broken.
“You look like a creep, you know that?” his brother says, raising an eyebrow as he glances out the window.
“Oh, like you have any room to talk,” Jake retorts, barely glancing at his brother.
“Seriously, this has been going on for weeks. Why don’t you just go down there and talk to her?” his brother suggests, clearly exasperated.
Jake turns away from the window, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he faces his brother. He hesitates, clearly embarrassed as he admits quietly, “I don’t… I don’t know how to talk to girls.”
His brother snickers, unable to resist teasing him. “You’ve got to try, man. It’s better than me having to hear you at 3 a.m., whimpering her name while… you know.”
“Wait—” Jake’s face flushes a deep shade of red as he turns to his brother, mortified.
“The walls are thin, young bro,” his brother says with a smirk, clearly enjoying Jake’s discomfort.
Jake runs a hand through his hair, his cheeks burning with shame. “You’re not—you’re not helping,” he mutters, glancing back out the window at you, still by the pool, completely unaware of the conversation happening just a few feet away.
His brother grins mischievously. “You want me to go tell her you jack off to her?” he asks, clearly joking but relishing the way Jake’s eyes widen in horror.
Before Jake can respond, his brother starts heading out of the room and toward the front door, leaving Jake in a state of sheer panic.
Jake bolts after his brother, shouting for him to get back inside as they both dash into the front yard. His heart is pounding, panic rising with each step. He finally catches up, grabbing his brother's arm and yanking him to a stop.
"I'm serious, come back and shut up!" Jake hisses, his cheeks still flushed a deep red, his face a mix of flustered embarrassment and desperation.
His brother smirks, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. "Dang, relax, tomato. I'm joking."
Jake lets out a sigh, feeling a small wave of relief, but it’s short-lived as his brother's smirk widens. "Or am I?"
Jake groans, rolling his eyes in frustration. “You better be, or I’m gonna kill you,” he mutters, but his tone is more resigned than threatening. "Seriously, if you say one word to her, I'll—"
"You'll what?" his brother interrupts, his tone teasing as he leans in closer. "Cry about it? Maybe write a sad poem in your journal?"
Jake scowls, crossing his arms defensively. "You’re such an idiot."
"And yet, I’m the idiot who actually talks to girls instead of just staring at them through windows," his brother shoots back with a smug grin.
Jake rolls his eyes. "I don’t just stare. I was—observing."
"Observing?" His brother laughs. "Is that what we’re calling it now?"
Jake punches his brother lightly on the shoulder. "Shut up. You’re not helping."
"Helping with what? Your creepy little crush?" his brother taunts, dodging another playful jab. "Honestly, Jake, just go talk to her. She clearly doesn’t think you’re a total weirdo. Yet."
Jake groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t even know what to say."
His brother raises an eyebrow. "How about, ‘Hi, I’m Jake, sorry for being a socially awkward stalker, would you like to go out sometime?’”
Jake glares at him again, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You really think you’re funny, don’t you?"
His brother grins. "Well, one of us has to be, and it sure isn’t you.”
Jake lets out a frustrated sigh, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "You know, sometimes I wonder why I even bother with you."
His brother shrugs, flashing a grin. "Because deep down, you know I’m right. And because you love me, obviously."
Jake shakes his head, but he’s laughing now, the tension from earlier starting to fade. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
His brother slings an arm around Jake's shoulders, leading him back toward the house. "Come on, let’s go inside before you embarrass yourself even more. But seriously, Jake, just talk to her. She’ll probably like you more than you think."
Jake lets out another sigh, but this time it’s more of a resigned chuckle. "Yeah, we’ll see about that."
As they head back inside, his brother gives him one last nudge. "Just remember, if you need a wingman, I’m available for hire."
Jake snorts. "You’re the last person I’d ask for help. I’d rather figure it out on my own."
His brother laughs, shaking his head. "Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t offer."
Jake’s brother notices the lingering embarrassment on Jake’s face and can’t resist taking things a step further. With a mischievous grin, he takes a step toward your house. “You know what? Maybe I’ll just go ask her out for you.”
Jake’s eyes widen in alarm, and he grabs his brother’s arm again. “Don’t you dare.”
But his brother just laughs, easily shaking off Jake’s grip. “Relax, I’m just gonna go say hi. Maybe I’ll mention how my little bro’s been pining for her from afar.” He starts walking toward your house with a smirk, throwing a teasing glance back at Jake.
“Seriously, stop!” Jake calls after him, his voice a mix of panic and irritation. But his brother only quickens his pace, clearly enjoying riling Jake up.
Jake watches in horror as his brother casually strolls up to your front yard, where your mom happens to be tending to some plants. He greets her with a friendly wave and a bright smile. “Good afternoon, ma’am! Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
Your mom looks up, smiling back warmly. “Why, yes it is! You must be one of the new neighbors. I’ve seen you and your family moving in.”
“That’s right,” he says, nodding. “I’m Jake’s older brother. He’s mentioned you and YN a few times.”
Jake cringes from a distance, feeling his stomach twist in knots.
Your mom’s smile widens, clearly pleased. “Oh, how sweet. YN’s out back by the pool if you want to say hello.”
His brother grins, glancing back at Jake, who’s standing frozen on the sidewalk, looking utterly helpless. “Thanks, I’ll do just that.”
Jake’s heart pounds as he watches his brother head toward the backyard, every instinct telling him to sprint over and stop whatever’s about to happen. But before he can decide what to do, his brother disappears around the corner, heading straight for you.
As you’re lounging by the pool, you hear footsteps approaching and glance up, surprised to see Jake’s brother making his way toward you with an easygoing smile. He waves, greeting you like an old friend.
“Hey there, YN! Hope I’m not interrupting.”
You sit up a little, curious and slightly amused by his unexpected appearance. “Oh, hey! Not at all. What’s up?”
He glances around the yard, pretending to admire the scenery. “Just thought I’d stop by and say hi. You know, welcome to the neighborhood and all that. My brother, Jake, has been meaning to come over and talk to you, but he’s been a bit… shy.”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by this new information. “Really? I didn’t take him for the shy type.”
His brother chuckles, leaning casually against the fence. “Yeah, he tries to act all cool, but trust me, he’s just nervous. In fact, I think he’s been working up the courage to ask you out for a while now.”
Your eyes widen slightly at that, caught off guard. “Really? I had no idea.”
He nods, enjoying your reaction. “Yep, it’s pretty cute, actually. He’s probably back there right now, freaking out because I’m here talking to you.” He tilts his head toward the front yard, where Jake is pacing nervously, clearly debating whether to intervene.
You can’t help but smile at the thought, glancing toward the front of the house where you can just make out Jake’s figure. “Well, I guess I’ll have to talk to him next time I see him.”
His brother grins, pleased with himself. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that. He’s not as tough as he looks, you know. Just give him a chance.”
With that, he pushes off the fence and gives you a playful salute. “I’ll leave you to your pool time, YN. But seriously, don’t be too hard on him. He’s a good guy, even if he’s a bit of a mess around you.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the heads-up.”
As he heads back to the front yard, he can’t resist throwing a final teasing remark over his shoulder. “And if he doesn’t make a move soon, I might just have to ask you out myself!”
You laugh again, waving him off as he leaves.
Meanwhile, Jake is waiting anxiously by the sidewalk, watching his brother approach with a smug look on his face. Jake’s nerves are still on edge as he stares at his brother, trying to read his expression. “What did you say?”
His brother shrugs, trying to keep a straight face. “Just the truth, little bro. She’s expecting you to talk to her now, so you better not chicken out.”
Jake stares at his brother, feeling a mix of anxiety and frustration bubbling up. "What do you mean she’s expecting me to talk to her?" he demands, his voice edging on panic.
His brother just grins, clearly enjoying the situation. "Relax, man. I didn’t say anything bad. Just let her know you’re interested and that you’ve been meaning to talk to her. You know, break the ice."
Jake runs a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of the situation settle on his shoulders. "You told her I’m interested in her?"
"Yeah, I did. And she didn’t seem freaked out, so that’s a win, right?" His brother claps him on the back, trying to be encouraging but only making Jake more nervous.
Jake groans, pacing in a small circle on the sidewalk. "I can’t believe you did that. Now she probably thinks I’m a total creep."
His brother rolls his eyes, grabbing Jake by the shoulders to stop his pacing. "Dude, chill out. She was cool about it. Actually, she seemed kind of interested. She even said she’ll talk to you next time she sees you."
Jake stops, blinking in surprise. "She did?"
"Yep," his brother nods, crossing his arms with a satisfied smirk. "Now, all you’ve gotta do is not screw it up."
Jake lets out a long breath, still feeling uneasy but slightly relieved. "So what do I say when I see her? I mean, I can’t just walk up and be like, ‘Hey, I heard you’re cool with me being a socially awkward idiot.’"
His brother laughs, shaking his head. "No, not quite. Just be yourself—well, maybe a slightly less awkward version of yourself. Talk to her like a normal person. Ask her about her day, or what she’s into. You know, the usual stuff."
Jake nods slowly, trying to absorb the advice. "Okay, yeah. I can do that… I think."
His brother gives him an encouraging nudge. "You’ll be fine, Jake. Just don’t overthink it. And hey, if you need a wingman, you know where to find me."
Jake rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile a little. "Thanks, but I think I’ll pass on that."
His brother chuckles. "Suit yourself, but I’ll be right here if you need me to swoop in and save the day."
With that, Jake’s brother heads back toward the house, leaving Jake standing on the sidewalk, his mind racing with thoughts of what to say the next time he sees you. He glances toward your backyard, where you’re still lounging by the pool, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil going on in Jake’s head.
Taking a deep breath, Jake steels himself, knowing he’ll have to face you sooner or later. But as he watches you from a distance, he can’t help but feel a little more hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, this could turn out better than he thinks.
Gathering his courage, Jake decides that he can’t just stand around and let the opportunity pass by. He takes a tentative step forward, but then stops, hesitating. What if he messes up? What if you’re not actually interested? A dozen doubts crowd his mind, making him second-guess his decision.
You glance up, noticing Jake for the first time. Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. Jake freezes, caught in your gaze, his heart hammering in his chest. This is it. There’s no turning back now.
With a nervous smile, Jake raises a hand in a half-wave. "Uh, hey, YN," he stammers, walking closer to the fence that separates your yards. "I didn’t mean to, uh, bother you or anything…"
You smile back, setting down your drink and sitting up a bit straighter. "You’re not bothering me at all, Jake. Come over, it’s too hot to be standing out there."
Jake hesitates for only a second before he nods and makes his way around the fence, slipping into your backyard. The moment feels surreal to him, like something out of a dream. He’s not sure if he’s more nervous or excited, but he pushes those thoughts aside, determined to not make a fool of himself.
As he approaches, you pat the lounge chair next to yours, inviting him to sit. "So, your brother was telling me you’ve been meaning to talk to me?"
Jake’s cheeks flush slightly, but he manages to keep his voice steady. "Yeah, uh, sorry if that’s weird or anything. I’ve just… been kind of nervous, I guess."
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "It’s not weird, Jake. Honestly, I’ve been wondering when you’d come over and say hi."
Jake looks at you, surprised. "You have?"
You nod, smiling. "Yeah, you’ve seemed nice enough whenever I’ve seen you around. I figured we’d eventually talk, but I didn’t expect your brother to play matchmaker."
Jake groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, he’s… a handful. I swear, he loves embarrassing me."
"Older siblings," you say with a knowing smile. "They live for that."
Jake laughs, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Yeah, tell me about it. But, um, I’m glad I finally got the chance to talk to you. I’ve kind of been wanting to… you know, get to know you better."
You give him a warm, reassuring smile. "I’d like that too, Jake."
For a moment, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence, the summer heat wrapping around you like a blanket. Jake feels the knot of anxiety in his chest slowly start to unwind. He glances over at you, noticing the way the sunlight catches in your hair, and he can’t help but smile.
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The afternoon drifts into the golden hues of early evening, you and Jake find yourselves in the pool, splashing around and enjoying the cool relief from the summer heat. The atmosphere is light and playful, filled with the sound of laughter echoing off the water. You both seem to have forgotten about the awkwardness of your earlier encounters, falling into an easy rhythm of teasing banter and shared smiles.
The sun begins its descent, casting a warm, amber glow across the backyard. The sky is painted with shades of pink and orange, reflecting off the water and giving everything a soft, dreamlike quality. The two of you float lazily, the day’s heat still lingering in the air, but the water keeps you cool. You’re both a little out of breath from the games you’ve been playing, but the mood is content and peaceful.
At some point, the laughter starts to fade, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. Jake glances over at you, his gaze lingering on your face. There’s something different in his eyes now, a softness that wasn’t there before. The playful energy between you has shifted into something more intimate, more tender.
You catch his eye, feeling a flutter in your chest as you realize how close you’ve drifted toward each other. The world seems to slow down around you, the sounds of the evening fading into the background. Jake’s expression is gentle, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken.
The water ripples softly around you as you move a little closer, your breath catching in your throat. Jake’s hand reaches out, hesitantly at first, then with more confidence as his fingers brush against yours under the water. The touch is electric, sending a thrill up your spine.
Neither of you speaks, but the silence is charged with emotion. You can see the way Jake’s gaze drops briefly to your lips, and when he looks back into your eyes, there’s a question there, one that you silently answer by leaning in just a fraction closer.
Jake’s free hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch warm against your cool skin. He moves slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your eyes fluttering shut as you close the distance between you.
The kiss is soft and tentative at first, a gentle meeting of lips that sends sparks through your whole body. But as the moment stretches, it deepens, becoming more sure, more certain. Jake’s hand slips from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the water swirls around you both.
Time seems to stop as you lose yourself in the kiss, the rest of the world fading away until all that exists is the warmth of Jake’s lips on yours and the steady beat of your heart echoing in your ears. There’s a sense of rightness in this moment, like everything has led to this.
When you finally pull back, just enough to catch your breath, your foreheads rest against each other. The sun has dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the yard. The sky is a deep, dusky pink, and the first stars are beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky.
Jake’s eyes open slowly, and when he looks at you, there’s a softness there, a quiet intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. Neither of you says anything at first, but there’s no need. The connection between you is clear, stronger than words could ever express.
Finally, Jake breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admits, his thumb gently stroking the side of your neck.
You smile, your fingers still intertwined with his under the water. “Me too,” you confess, your voice equally soft, filled with the same warmth and affection.
He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a gentle embrace. The two of you float there in the pool, wrapped up in each other as the last light of day fades away, and the stars take their place in the night sky.
reblogs are appreciated :)) thanks for reading this, pretty xoxo
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wutheringcaterpillar · 1 year ago
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hey can you write for Cillian being jealous over his wife/fiance / girlfriend who's 20 years younger after her co worker was flirting with her in a party. After they headed home they had a fight and a hate/rough/ jealousy fuck but ended up hugging eo like nothing happened because it was the first fight fuck they had and they enjoyed it
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Thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!
Warnings: age gap (20 yr age difference), rough sex, jealousy, p in v
After finally wrapping up the movie you were filming, Cillian arrived with you to an after party in celebration held at the studio. He had been so proud of his brilliant, beautiful wife and was there to show his support.
The evening carried on quite well, the writers and producers carrying on casual conversation with Cillian and asking of his filming endeavors and what he thinks makes a script flourish and stick out with great potential to become a huge hit.
After a few drinks at the bar, he excused himself to the restroom, giving you a peck on the cheek.
That was when Jake approached you. He was around your age range, early twenties and he was a close friend of yours ever since the first of filming. It was rare he was dressed up and seeing him so was quite a breath taker, he was quite handsome.
“Hey! There’s the star!” He welcomed you with open arms into a warm hug, causing you to smile widely. You had never been complimented so much in a day and honestly it was very wonderful and made you feel appreciated, not that Cillian didn’t but it was nice to hear from co workers and strangers too.
“Did you see the scrapbook Carly made of some fun moments we had on set? She really made it for you with it being your first film an all.” When you shook your head no, Jake walked you over to the table.
Cillian exited the bathroom only to find you not where he expected you to be, spotting you over by the city view window, Jake standing next to you with his hand settled on your lowerback.
Making his way over, he could hear Jake make a comment to you about how out of all other actresses he’d worked with, you had been the best. The comment made you smile and giggle, causing a deep discomfort to settle over Cillian like an impending storm.
“Oh, honey hi! Jake was just showing me the scrapbook Carly made, so sweet of her isn’t it?” Cillian smiled and nodded pleasently, hiding the building jealousy as Jake swayed closer to you. As a man himself Cillian knew that Jake was looking at you with lustful, scheming eyes before turning his attention to him.
“You have a hell of a wife here, quite talented she is, and beautiful might I add.” Jake winked toward you, causing your cheeks to burn an amber shade of red while Cillian stood there with his eyebrows raised that this man had the audacity to make a such a motion in front of him. 
Lapping his tongue over his lip and chuckling darkly, his arm flexed behind your shoulders as a way of claiming his territory, looking Jake directly in the eyes.
“I’m well aware what I have. I feel I must inform you, your zipper’s down and you lusting over a married woman makes you look quite pathetic and desperate, guess that comes with young age and stupidity. You had her in a scene, fake might I add. I have her daily, now go check your trousers  and yourself little boy before you try hitting on my wife again. We’ll be leaving now.” Embarrassment spread over Jake’s face as he looked around the room, seeing if anyone else noticed.
Cillian grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the party as you yelled goodbyes and thank yous’ to all of your co stars.
He had never acted like this and you were more than pissed at his actions. As an actor himself he should know how to compose himself and realize that you were a grown woman who loved him and never gave him a reason to believe you’d cheat.
The car ride was silent while tensions were high. Shifting your legs, you held the position facing the window not even wanting to make eye contact with Cillian. How could he embarrass you like that? 
Meanwhile he continued driving, knuckles wrapped white and tight around the wheel, jaw clenched in anger.
Arriving home, you bursted through the door in an angered storm, lips pursed in disgust. Cillian simply scoffed, yelling behind you as you climbed the stairs to the bedroom after taking your heels off
“Did you even care that I showed up for you? Cause it looked like you were too wrapped up in Jake’s fucking flirtatious remarks to even notice I was there.” Turning around in fury, you pointed your finger, pushing his chest lightly while you stared at him with venomous eyes.
“Well maybe if my husband wasn’t an insecure little jealous bitch this all could have been avoided, but wait maybe that comes with age like you said to Jake!” Shoving you against the wall with gritted teeth, he pulled his tie off aggressively while wrapping his hand around your throat. Your head bounced back against the sturdy wall.
In a heated wave of anger, Cillian’s eyes flamed like a blue rose set on fire while your eyes bore into his skull with a lustful fury.
Clashing his lips against yours roughly breaking the tension, your hand grazed up the back of his neck pulling him in closer needing to taste him. 
He lifted you off the ground effortlessly as you fumbled with his belt never breaking your lips from his, tongues exploring one anothers, moaning in between kisses.
His cock popped out from the tailored trousers, the thick head leaking with pre cum waiting ever impatiently to be between your wet folds.
“Take me. Go on take me before I-“ Cillian silenced your smirk words with his cock unexpectedly sliding forcefully into your tight hole making you gasp.
“Not so smart now are we love?” He began to plow irelentlessly into your cunt, your breasts falling shamelessly from your dress.
He wanted you to hear you moan, to beg for more because it was only him who you belonged to, only him who could pleasure you in such a memorable way.
Spreading you over the wooden dresser, his strong hands grasped at your thighs, slamming you down onto his cock, filling you with every singular inch of his girthy member.
Something about seeing him fuck you still in his tuxedo sent a thrill up your spine, maybe you needed to argue more if the sex was going to be like this.
Pulling him down, you buried his head in your breasts, ankles tying behind his back, pushing him further inside, as far as you could.
His tongue lapsed at your cleavage before moving to your nipples, sucking like a baby needed it’s bottle, nibbling at the delicate skin.
“Fuck Cil- more!” All of a sudden, the pleasurable thrusts came to a hault. He lifted his head, whispering in your ear with sarcasm.
“I’m sorry, what was that? You need more, from me? Why should I give it to you, you have Jake.”
“Cill, please! Just fuck me you stubborn ass, you know I’m fucking yours.” That’s all he needed to hear, but the thought of Jake’s hands on you still pissed him off.
Your soaked walls clenched to him desperately, squeezing and craving for more friction, a faster pace as your orgasm was nearing closer and closer with each passing second, each power driven ram into your aching cervix.
He didn’t know his wife could be anymore hot, anymore sexy than she was right now before his very eyes.
He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your head back by your hair, causing the once well combed strands to completely fall to ruins.
Your ass bounced back against him, the jiggling motion richocheting against his skin as he pounded into you relentlessly, his cock filling every inch of your dripping cunt.
“Cil-Cil I’m going to-“ You didn’t get to finish your sentence, hands gripping desperately at the sides of the dresser while your orgasm twitched with a majestic feeling of euphoria through your body. Coming completely undone beneath your husband who never failed to ensure you came first.
When he felt the wave of your alluring nectar stream down his shaft, with one last, detrimental pound you felt his cock pulsate inside of you, the stream of his seed watering your uterus. Your moans mixing together in a harmonious end to a fight.
Cillian was like a drug you’d never, ever want to quit.
Standing up, you fixed the strap of you dress, patting the fabric down and wiping the sweat from your forehead while he pulled his pants back up in a now tired haze. 
There was an awkward silence but no further argumentative statements or yelling, like the storm has passed.
“Let’s go to bed yeah?” Nodding, you followed him to bed, curling into his side falling asleep peacefully as if nothing happened.
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago
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Hey just wondering if you still write for tangerine? If you do I was hoping you’d write one about tangerine having to most sweetest and kindest wife and everyone always wondering how could she marry a big grump like him? Like tangerine is on a job and he’s due back in a few days and these men have been sent to kidnap his wife and she sees them infront of her house and goes out asking if they are lost and invites them inside for some tea and makes them lunch and they end up leaving without her because of how sweet she was and tangerine comes back recognising the men leaving the house and his wife waving goodbye to them lol if that makes sense thank you
yes bb, still write for him. this is such a cute and funny idea!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 reader is very mother in this
ROSE-TINTED VIEW.
tangerine x fem!reader — fluff
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word count. 702
Some people see the worst in others, but not you. You often view the world and those around you through a pair of rose-tinted glasses, only ever seeing the good in everything. Some may call you unrealistic, but you wouldn't call it that - you liked to think of it as optimism. It's something needed within the world, especially to your pessimistic counterpart of a husband.
You were having a home day, chilling and lounging around the house, waiting for Tangerine's return from work when you see a few construction workers appear on your driveway. That wasn't who they were, but you'd never know that.
You see them lingering for a few minutes before you head to the front door and open it. "You guys alright?" you ask, stepping outside and onto the porch. "You lost?"
"No, we're good. Thanks," one of them speaks, exchanging looks with the others. 
"Just waiting for our tool van," another adds, slapping his 'co-worker' when he began to whisper.
"Do you want to wait inside? It's going to rain soon, you'll catch a cold," you question, looking up at the sky - gesturing to the approaching grey clouds.
The men whisper amongst themselves, nudging each other with small laughs. "If you don't mind," the first speaks, nodding his 'co-workers' along.
"No, not at all. Come on in," you wave the men over, opening the door wider so they'd all fit past. You close the door behind them and notice the heavy fall of rain. "Just missed it," you chuckle, walking past them and into the kitchen. "Was about to put the kettle on. What can I get you? Teas? Coffees?"
The men exchange a few more glances - a quizzical raise of the brows upon your amiable questions. "Four teas, please, love," one of them speaks.
"I'll put milk and sugar on the table, and you can help yourselves," you gesture to the middle of the dining table in which they all sat around.
You head back into the kitchen, preparing and making cups of tea, grabbing a couple of packs of biscuits to take through. You place the mugs in front of them all - adding milk, sugar and cookies in the centre. The men thank you, smiling courteously at you.
"Can I get you guys something to eat, something fresh? Sandwiches? Oh, I bought a baguette this morning from the market— well, it's actually for my husband, but he won't mind. It'll go lovely with some deli meats. We actually have some in, all fresh from down the road," you offer, heading back into the kitchen. "You know what, I'll just make a big spread, and you can all help yourselves— anything that doesn't get eaten, you can take home."
You make a start on the sandwiches, creating a few different types for them all to graze on - taking in some extra cereal bars, fruits and bags of crisps. You make a sandwich for yourself and pull a chair to sit at the head of the table, talking casually with the strangers at your table.
After a while, the rain began to calm, and the men gathered their things to leave. You handed them small tinfoil parcels with extra food before waving them off, watching them move past Tan's car that was driving up the driveway. 
"Who're they?" Tangerine asks as he steps out of his car, staring the van down until it's out of view. 
"I don't know, some construction workers," you shrug, opening your arms to him - silently welcoming him home. "Good day?" you ask, pressing a kiss into his cheek.
He hums, seemingly distracted from the dark logoless van. "Did you?" he asks, draping an arm over your shoulder as you walk inside - side hugging you.
"Yes, very good, thanks. Went to the farmer's market this morning— got some pastries, oh and some jams. You'll love them," you smile, wrapping an arm around the middle of his back. "You hungry?" you ask, placing your spare hand over his tummy. 
"A little," he softly chuckles, silently admiring your sweetness. 
You press another kiss into his cheek, soothing over his dishevelled hair. "You go shower, I'll whip you up something."
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psa, don't invite strangers into your home
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autisticandroids · 9 months ago
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free space: medium-sized destiel
so in my reclists for @spnficrecfest i haven't been including many fics that are very "big destiel."
this is partly because i've been trying to keep the kudos count lower (though obviously this hasn't been absolute), and also because i actively did not include any "post empty destiel fix it" type fics in the dabb era reclist because they're kind of a genre unto themselves. nor have i intentionally made space in other reclists for fics that have a particular destiel romance novel vibe. obviously there's some, but those tend to dominate reclists, and i wanted to highlight smaller fics.
so this is my "big destiel" reclist, except i still did not include anything that had >2k kudos, because those are generally speaking pretty well known already.
some of these fics are small and just have the big destiel vibes, but a lot of them are more in the 1k kudos range than the hundred kudos range, on account of being big, or medium-sized, destiel.
in order of word count:
ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? by everytuesday, 1k
a couple of takes on the confession scene. very special to me.
rot and grace by extemporaneous, 3k, violence warning
cas watches dean murder the world. corruption kink.
some dying star looks dull in the light by sp8ce, 4k
heaven angst with a happy ending, post-empty.
one step closer by rhinestoneangels, 4k
an empty rescue. i love the empty geography in this one.
i didn't feel it on the first day, and now i got it in the worst way by wintertree, 6k
meg pov on a post-widower arc destiel.
the doorway to a thousand churches by sonatine, 6k
cas and the deans from goodbye stranger.
if you try sometimes, well you just might find by jenthesweetie, 9k
cas pov on dean's wants.
godot ain't got nothing on me and my baby by ilovehowyouletmefall, 10k
post empty, cas became death. the only way dean could see him is by dying.
before and after breakfast by spocklee, 10k
a silly little case where cas and dean realize how they see each other.
solitudes by ilovehowyouletmefall, 21k
cas sees dean see cas die. a wonderful little melodrama. i actually really liked how it handled dean's alcoholism (not really as something to be solved but just as a... reality to be dealt with) and i'm OBSESSED with the director's commentary. if this had been published in 2021 instead of 2023, every heller would have read it three times over.
powerless in dreams by calicoyak, 24k
a post-empty fic. i really liked some of the cas stuff in this one.
between a rock and a hard place by amidsizefrog, 24k
dean's dick doesn't work. also cas is dead. maybe the two are related.
every single thing by thestoryinsideme, 37k
a charming and goofy season nine fic. dean is a shitty little man in a very canonical way that is also deeply sweet and adorable.
a light above descending by hedderstheowl, 38k
a mark of cain fic with chefkiss angel stuff. a recent favorite of mine. really put this author on the map for me.
with understanding by apokteino, 427k, chose not to warn and noncon warning
yeah it's with understanding. you've heard of it. go read it now chop chop.
and if your wondering which fics (that you've probably read) got the axe for having too many kudos: it was on labor, the bee movie fic, time has come today, and r/supernatural. that's my taste. if you were curious.
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razorblade180 · 1 year ago
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9 days of Lancaster Day 5: Hidden Relationship
Ruby:*washing plates*
Jaune:*dirty* Hey there stranger. Hard at work I see.
Ruby:I lost a bet with Nora and this is my punishment. What’s with the smudges?
Jaune:Yang wanted to help me “improve my combat abilities.”
Ruby:Ooof, I’m sorry.
Jaune:I’m not immediately sore like last time so that’s something.
Ruby grabs a glass and fills it with water for him.
Jaune:Awww, my heart. *grabs it*
Ruby:Hush you goober. I know Yang’s training all too well. I’m surprised you’re walking.
Jaune:Well y’know, recently I’ve been getting in good stamina training.
Ruby:*red*…Is that so? Hadn’t noticed. My training is always pretty vigorous.
Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed. Guess I still have a long way to go. Although…I’m sure you’d have a little more trouble with my “training”
Ruby:Pfft, oh really? I think I’m pretty fit in case you haven’t noticed!
Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed.
Ruby:…..*flicks water on him*
Jaune:Ah!
Ruby:I couldn’t think of a comeback. You’re filthy anyways. I’m just washing you up a bit.
Jaune:If that’s the case…I think there’s a smudge around my chin I can’t quite get off.
Ruby didn’t know if it was herself, Nora, or Yang that has influenced Jaune, but it was a diabolical blessing. The young knight approached her innocently with a smile. Ruby double checked their surroundings then preceded to gently rub her thumb across his chin. Of course, Jaune took the opportunity to pull her in by her lower back. Ruby gladly became ensnared in his trap, going as far to stand up on her toes and give a sweet, mischievous kiss.
The two of them giggled as they continued peppered each other with growing affection. If only more of these moments could come by frequently. Unfortunately, privacy is hard in a group of nine, and the both of them wished to revel in this growing relationship away from others. Not forever of course, but long enough to make it feel personal and intimate. Although if the others knew, they’d probably tell them intimacy is far from a problem.
Ruby felt her body hold him closer as their kiss became…less innocent. Jaune was seconds away from putting her on the countertop when the click of a doorknob snapped them back to reality. An instant petal burst brought Ruby back to washing dishes while Jaune focused on his water as Yang walked in.
Yang:Hey party people! Ruby, you should’ve seen Jaune during our match. Gotta admit, he’s getting some moves. Almost pinned me a few times.
Ruby:Wow, that’s high praise. Practice must be paying off.
Jaune:*refilling water*
Yang:Someone’s thirsty.
Ruby:Pfft, I’ll say. He’s all red too.
Jaune:W-What can I say? Things got pretty heated, literally.
Ruby:Please don’t singe him. We can’t explain that to Nora.
Yang:He will be fine. All he needs is a little rest and a well deserved bath. Also isn’t Nora supposed to be on dish duty?
Ruby:I lost a bet, which sucks because I wanted to look around Mistral a bit.
Yang:I’ll take over for ya. You suck at drying anyways.
Ruby:Hey!
Yang:I’m gonna put my things away first. Jaune, hit the showers. You smell like smoke. *walks off*
Jaune:Gee, I wonder why!
He waves goodbye at Ruby and heads to the bathroom. Honestly it was a miracle he didn’t singe anything. As he walked in a closed the door, a sudden gust went by him. Jaune turned around and was greeted with a swift hand over his mouth from Ruby while the other quickly locked the door behind him. She slowly moved her hand and smiled.
Ruby: I lied about Mistral
Jaune: You are gonna get me killed.
Ruby tried not to laugh. She ran the sink and turned on the bath for more noise.
Ruby:Gotta make opportunities where you can. Besides…*red* You got me a little riled up.
Jaune:I mean…fair but- my life.
Ruby:You’ll be fine. I’ll sneak out after I learn about this so called “training” so let’s just focus on us. I can also help you wash up, like any good partner would do. Unless… you don’t want to?
She didn’t even let him respond before taking off her cap and sitting on the sink counter with a wide grin. Ruby held her arms out, inviting him. Despite his protests, Jaune easily walked into the embrace and found his hands back where they were before they were interrupted.
Jaune:Prepare for your workout.
Ruby:Hehe, lead on. I’m happily in your care~
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laroserie · 1 year ago
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— characters : Alastor, + the hotels residents (vague mention - expect for Charlie)
— content : x gender neutral reader - reader is a baker, reader is naive (for a sinner), Alastor manipulate reader into coming to the hotel, Alastor is Alastor but he's also OOC (kinda but uh who write canon Alastor anyways)
— author note : this is the second part of an (potentially yandere!) alastor x baker reader - the first part is here (also the words count is : 1.7k ) (saying that because i outdid myself lol) (also yes i know Alastor canonically do not like tea idc this mf is gonna drink tea) ++ honestly considering doing a third part because I have so much more to say and write about this
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After Alastor came back from his seven years hiatus and he came for at your bakery again, he could come so often, like once every two days.
But it could take him a while to make a 'move', try to get closer to you or talk to you about the hotel but one day, he comes to your bakery and asks for an unusual amount of pastries. You don't comment on it as it's not your place - you are just a simple baker ! But you can't help but raise an eyebrow.
Alastor meant to talk to you about the hotel, not because he wanted you to reedem yourself or because he wanted to do it for Charlie - well maybe a little but he won't admit it - but more or less to keep an eye on you. By then, he isn't sure as to why he wants to keep an eye on you - his assumption is that he feels the same way toward you as he does toward Rosie. He sees you as a friend but not quite - you are the sweet baker who makes quite good pastries and you are by far one of the less annoying sinners he ever spoke to. But he feels some kind of protectiveness over you - probably because he sees you as quite meek and weak.
So obvious what could be better than inviting you to stay at the hotel ? A place where he can both protect and keep on eye on you at -nearly- all time.
Alastor took this opportunity, 'These aren't all for me, dear. They are for ... my friends ?' he started while you were wrapping up what he purchased, 'You see ... Have you heard of the Hazbin Hotel ?' he asks.
'Uhm ... The hotel run by the princess ? Yeah I've seen a bit of talk about it, why ?'
'Well ! I am the facility manager of that, hotel ! And the ... pastries are for my fellows workers and residents.' He stopped for a second to gauge your reaction to that information - which was a simple nod and a 'ohh' - he continued. 'Hm, the goal of the hotel is to help sinners redeem themselves ... could you be by chance interested ?'
This question probably takes you by surprise. By then you already finished packing Alastor order - you push it toward him on the counter. You respond hesitantly 'Ha, well ... Is it possible ? To even redeem yourself ... ?' Your smile falter a bit and you look in the void for a bit. 'I don't think redemption is for me ... If I'm here it mean I deserve it and that it's already too late ...' Alastor didn't fully expect you to react like this - he did expect that you could say 'no' at first but not that.
'But ! Anyways, there is your order, enjoy !' You said trying to end the conversation there. But alas Alastor was not the type to give up so easily.
He took his order but continued on, 'If you couldn't mind dear, please just come and visit once, to be truthful, we haven't had a whole lot of sinners coming, you just simply visiting could be wonderful, and you could help bring Charlie mood up, oh and you both could get along so well !' As he finished his sentence he turned and walked toward the door and threw you a 'Goodbye!'.
Alastor knew you enough to know that he could pull at your heart strings to get what he wanted - you were always the sensitive type, the type to care even about strangers. He was sure that he could see you 'visit' in the near future.
And well he was right ! A mere three days after you found yourself at the doorstep of the hotel. You had been waiting for a few minutes already - you were still debating on entering or just turning on your hells and going back home.
But before you could do anything the hotel door in front of you opened in a big 'slam'. And once again before you could do anything, you were dragged into the hotel in a very enthusiastic manner.
'Hello !! Are you interested in the hotel ?' A cheerful voice asked you, as she dragged you into the hall, you recognised quite easily who is was - the owner of the hotel - Charlie Morningstar. It wasn't your first time seeing her, but it was your first time seeing her up close. You had to restrain a laugh at her over-enthusiasm, you didn't want be irrespectful toward the princess of hell.
'Good morning, I am simply visiting as it was recommended by ... a friend of mine.' You saw her be a bit disappointed hearing that. 'Oh. Is there anyways you could I don't know change your mind ? Maaaaybe ?' She asked.
You a small smile appeared on your face 'Maybe. If your convincing is good enough.'
Charlie took it as a challenge, she started by showing you around the hotel, and then made you meet the residents - you spoke a bit with everyone - at the exception of Alastor how was visiting his friend in Cannibal Town. To say you were surprised knowing that the two sole residents of the hotel were one of the biggest pornstar of hell and somekind of mad inventor could be an understatement. The staff of the hotel was also something - you knew already Niffty and Husk having heard about them from Alastor and you saw and spoke with Husk a few times when he picked up orders at your bakery for Alastor. And then there was Vaggie, she seemed to be quite suspicious of you and it feel like she could gut you out as soon as you do something wrong.
By the end of the day, Charlie asked you once again if you wanted to join the hotel - you struggled to answer her - a part of you seriously started to consider joining the hotel and trying to get redeem but the other one was still wary of the idea.
But you asked her if you could come every once in a while to visit and she was overjoyed by it - you didn't join the hotel but it was still an advances to have someone visit the hotel.
You did end up visiting the hotel a lot - at some point you could come once a week - you ended up befriending most people from the hotel.
One of those day, most of the hotel residents were out - only Alastor and Niffty were at the hotel. Niffty was running around chasing cockroachs - you were having tea with Alastor.
Alastor had finally decided to move to the next steps of his plan - to have you under his grip. He started by asking you a few questions about how you felt about the hotel.
'I told you, you could get along with Charlie !' You nodded as you sipped on a cup of tea. 'Are you thinking of joining the hotel officially ?' You sighed and shake your head, 'Alastor, you already know my answer ...'
'Are you sure dear ? I truly think it could be beneficial for you to join.' He persisted. 'But, I have a bakery to run, I, I have responsibility.'
'You can continue to run your bakery while being a resident here darling ! Honestly, why don't you want to ? Please don't tell me you seriously believe you cannot be redeem, we all know that it's not true. You by far one of the most ... redeemable sinner there is' Alastor tone of voice was serious - the atmosphere shifted and suddenly the way you were sitting became uncomfortable. 'Alastor please ... Don't.' You managed to utter, your looked down at the cup between your hands.
'What, I am simply saying the truth. I am just asking you to enlighten me as to why you don't think you should at least try to redeem yourself and join heaven.' You looked up to see Alastor with his usual smile plastered on his face - it felt wrong, you felt yourself crack. 'There is no real reasons to be frank, I just know that it's not possible, that it's not right ...'
Alastor shacks his head, 'If you don't do it for yourself please do it for Charlie, you both are dear friends now right ? Couldn't you like to make her happy by becoming a resident and attempting to cleanse yourself of your sins ? Ah, it could even make me happy ...' He pulled out the last card in his deck - once again he knew that playing with your feelings could be the easiest way to get you to stay - and so he did.
He could see you hesitate a bit, 'Are you sure ...? What if she learn that I don't believe in it truly ? I do not wish to be hypocritical ... isn't that a sin itself ?' Alastor laughed a little hearing you, 'You shouldn't worry about that darling. The important thing is the end result - not how you got it. Who cares if you aren't honest ? And if it's stay between the two of us, Charlie will never know.' You took a few minutes to think - weighting the pros and cons.
You sighed and nodded your head, 'Sure, I mean what could go wrong ... ha.'. Alastor smiles 'Exactly dear !', he took a sip of tea, 'Now, shall we do the paperwork now ?', he didn't wait for an answer and just pulled out a stack of papers and a pen out of Satan know here and slided them toward you.
You didn't brother to question him and just took the pen in hand, 'Do I really need to read all of that ?' you said pointing to the small toward of papers in front of you, 'Oh of course no, it's just good 'ol paperwork, you don't need to read anything ! Just sign the bottom of each pages and ... we should be good.' you probably didn't notice the way his smiles twisted as he uttered those words or if you did you just preferred to not question it.
Looking back you probably should have - it could have saved you from the collar and leash attached to your neck and the overall pain that was having your soul being owned by Alastor - with the added layer of being a full time resident of the hotel.
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notmorbid · 6 months ago
Text
damnation spring.
dialogue prompts from damnation spring: a novel by ash davidson.
i've known rocks that talked more than you.
if you don't bet on yourself, nobody else will.
the past isn't a knot you can untie.
don't ever leave the house without a kiss goodbye.
you want some coffee, while you wait?
you gotta take a risk sometime.
i probably should have asked you a long time ago.
the fear is worse than the pain.
are you not attracted to me anymore?
i forgot how good it feels to have a secret.
there are too many ways to die out here.
if you let your mind wander, it could cost you your life.
what the hell kind of five dollar word is that?
i just do what they tell me.
kids are like puppies. it's easier with two.
they'll cut you with one hand and bandage you with the other.
look up 'careful' in the dictionary, and there you are.
keep your damn shirt on.
used to be, people looked out for each other.
one percent's not milk, it's water.
it's too easy to kill an idea by saying it out loud.
half the time, i don't know what i think until i say it out loud.
i never know what to do with my hands.
every day of a marriage is a choice.
you're always playing some kind of angle.
go to school. learn something.
what's the use of dredging all that up again?
when you get to be my age, you don't leave things till tomorrow.
there wasn't anything anybody could have done.
dogs are the best judge of people.
well, aren't you just as bright as a dime?
when was i ever young?
what are you so nervous about?
you never say a bad word about anyone.
people always say the wrong thing, don't they?
you're the one who never called me back.
you knew where i was.
are you going to tell my mom?
women have a way of passing bad news around.
can you walk on my back?
do you ever wonder what your life might have been like?
i figured i had time, you know?
the judge said it was self defense.
i watch out for my people. you know that.
keep it. i've got another copy.
don't be a stranger.
i thought you were up to no good.
it's not like the old days, is it?
you missed a hell of a show.
what are you doing for money?
smoke follows beauty.
my first word was 'son of a bitch'.
you never killed anybody?
the early bird gets his own damn breakfast.
if i shoot myself in the foot, i'll need you to carry me out.
i used up one of my nine lives today.
clean up your own mess, for once.
watch out for potholes. and assholes.
i had a hell of a time finding this place.
keeps the bible salesmen away.
when were you going to tell me?
you were my best friend, once.
a little rest never hurt anybody.
i'm so caught up in my own pain, i can't see anybody else's.
even a nice dog will bite when it's hurt.
you only get one life, sweet pea. live it happy.
look who the cat dragged in.
has your conscience caught up with you?
if you're shooting, shoot. don't make me dance.
you've been distracted for days.
you know something isn't right. what are you doing about it?
you're going to get hurt. you might even get yourself killed.
you're not alone in this.
people don't worry what they can't see.
it's important to do the right thing, even when nobody else is.
sorry doesn't pay the bills.
i judge a man by what he does, not what he says.
a threat? no. that's a promise.
what's wrong with me?
i hope you brought some sunshine.
careful now. some places you go, you can't get back from.
____ can go to hell. and so can you.
what do you gotta do to get some peace and quiet around here? die?
the roads are fucked. it's faster to walk.
what's wrong with you? you just do whatever they tell you?
right or not right, it's done.
would it kill you to just take my side for once?
where else would we go?
it looks worse than it is.
i've still got a few lives left in me.
you're all thinking it, but no one has the guts to ask.
whoever said you can't buy loyalty never spent a day here.
if you're smart, you'll get out of town.
it's okay to wander, as long as we always come home.
even an old dog can learn, if you're patient with him.
why would this time be any different?
what did you wanna be, when you grew up?
you don't have to watch me every minute of the day. i'm okay.
i forgot i was mad at you.
from outside, it looks like a normal house.
i can come stay for a while.
you ready for some help?
please don't hide from me.
i don't want to lose you. i can't lose you, okay?
nothing's wrong. i'm just happy.
not a lot of people are born to do something.
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lightlycareless · 1 year ago
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okay i have a headcanon but what if y/n has this like very new lip balm that has like a really good fragrance and taste to it and naoya is like "what did u put on ur lips" when they kissed
then goes on and buy like 20 of them so she would never run out of it 🏃‍♀️
and naoya gets comments abt how his lips look fuller and hydrated but its just the result of them kissing nonstop because of the lip balm-
Hello anon!!!!!
Now THIS is something I had lots of fun writing hhahahahahahahahahahahahahhaahha specially after that dream I got with the lipstick... everything is alingning....
I genuinely believe Naoya would obsess over something like this—like, he's intoxicated in your scent, now add something sweet/tasty? He's an addict :)
Anyways, I won't say much hehe I hope you enjoy the little drabble I wrote:
warnings: tiniest mentions/implications of nsfw (smut, you know, the deed) and making out. But outside of that, nothing.
Happy reading!
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Naoya would first notice something glossy over your lips when meeting up with you for breakfast.
He doesn’t think much of it, except that it looks good, and that it made your lips look even more kissable.
Which obviously, he doesn’t hold back from doing whenever possible, he literally must kiss you once every 5 minutes or he’ll die.
When Naoya eventually kisses you goodbye, off to some other boring mission he needs to do, it’s when he spots the slightest difference from your always welcoming warm and soft lips.
Now, don’t get me wrong, those things were still there much to his heart’s delight, however, a new lingering sweetness would have him dumbfounded for a moment, carefully analyzing this discovery as he licks it up, wondering…
“Did you eat strawberries right now?” You’re no stranger to eating anything sweet that crosses your sight; but that would not be the case—In fact, you’re glad that he noticed, a bright grin quickly forming on your lips as you respond.
“Nope! It’s my new lip balm.” You explain, he raises an eyebrow.
“Lip balm?” Naoya repeats slowly.
“Well actually, a lip balm and an exfoliator! I found them the other day at the mall, that time I went with my staff, remember?” He nods “I was surprised that things like these existed for lips! So, I decided to give it a chance, and I gotta say, my lips definitely feel softer—look!”
You purse your lips into a pout which Naoya doesn’t hesitate to touch with his own lips, pecking them with a gentle kiss—rightfully amused when discovering that you were telling the truth.
“So? What do you think?” you smile, but Naoya doesn’t say anything, opting to give you a kiss instead… and another, and another, as if trying to convince himself he wasn’t making things up.
And you happily obliged initially, taking in all his gestures and returning them too, until you suddenly remembered he was supposed to be on his way to work, unless he wanted to be late!—and all because you wanted to show off your new lip balm, which he also effectively removed by now thanks to his kisses!
“Naoya!” You whine, and your tone was all he needed to understand what you were referring to.
“Just wanted to be sure of the flavor” Naoya smirks. “Didn’t catch it the first time.”
“But you guessed right the first time!!” you cry back, and he gives out a light chuckle before kissing you once more. You pout. “…well, at least one of us is getting their lips hydrated…”
“Don’t be angry, my love, I’ll buy you all the lip balms that you want if that’s the issue.” Naoya promises, pecking your lips one last time before departing off to his next mission.
Even when he had the means to do so (as well as past experiences), you wholeheartedly didn’t expect Naoya to keep his word regarding your lip balms; and you didn’t really care much for it either since you were still trying out this new thing—however, as always, you seemed to have underestimated your husband’s dedication and his fixations, for he quickly became an avid fan of your flavored balms, first seen on the new stick or scrub that would “mysteriously” appear on your vanity just before the other one ended…
Or by the way he’d grab your lips hostage with his, demonstrating both his well-known adoration for you, and newfound curiosity for the new flavor of the moment that lingered on them.
“Na—Naoya…”  you’d whimper, or attempt to through his incessant kissing, lips already numb at that point, as he cages you with his arms, keeping you underneath him and against the futon. “St—Stop…”
“What? I’m just trying to see if your new balm is working…” he murmurs, with eyelids halfway open and undeniably drunk in your scent and taste, desire is the only present feeling in his actions. “What is it… cherry?”
“I… I don’t know…” you blushed—but even when complaining about the breathless, heated situation he was putting you through, your lips still searched for his.
“I think so… but it doesn’t matter, we still have lots of flavors to go through…” he purrs before leaning down and closing the gap between the two with another kiss, tongue pushing past your lips and onto your mouth, diving deeper into the intoxicating combination of your flavor alongside the lip balm of the day, the newest sensation he didn’t know he needed until finally trying it.
“What will my little mochi taste like today?” Naoya teases you from over the futon as you apply lip balm onto your lips, just as you diligently did every morning.
Ever since your lips became softer thanks to your new routine, he proclaims you are now living up to that nickname, being the only one he calls you nowadays.
Not that you minded, it was certainly amongst the sweeter of his selection, nonetheless it still flustered you.
“It’s a secret.” You respond. By now Naoya has gotten you a thousand flavors, ones you weren’t even aware they could be used as balms—but given his craving to try them all out (from you), you determined to put on a different one every day just to keep him on his toes.
“Can I at least have a sneak peek?” he smirks. You giggle, shaking your head.
“Nope! Until I come back maybe.” Naoya scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I won’t be away for long, my love, just gotta pick up some things from the store. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Don’t know why you don’t ask the servants to do it…” he says. “We could be spending the morning in bed instead.”
“Because I like to go out once in a while.” You respond. “Besides, this is one of your days off, I want you to rest.”
“Why? Think I won’t be able to with you around?”
You give him a look that asks him if he’s being serious right now.
“Alright, you have a point there, mochi. Just don’t take long.”
After finishing putting on your lip balm and fixing the last details of your makeup, you begin to make way towards him, intending to bid your farewells by kissing his cheek…
Before he outsmarts you by swiftly grabbing you by the arm, pulling you down to him, careful so as to not hurt you, but sternly enough to hold you against him, wrapping his arms around you as he looks down to you, a smirk on his face.
“Naoya!” you whine, attempting to free himself from his grasp, he chuckles. “I gotta go! My staff is waiting for me!”
“Give me a kiss.” Your husband orders. “Or I won’t let you go.”
Did you really think you’d be able to hold him off from trying today’s flavor?
Luckily for him, you love him so much that you easily indulge him without much insistence, giving him a quick, soft kiss at first… until Naoya’s greediness pushes him a step further, converting your soft gestures into a more heated endeavor, his tongue quickly savoring your mouth and your balm of choice—honey, coincidentally his favorite—by gently sucking and biting on your lips, enjoying the treat his wife willingly prepared for him, until the two eventually become breathless, only pulling away when they physically couldn’t continue together.
“You’re going to ruin my make up…” You’re the first to speak, moving your face to the side in efforts to stop him from ravaging you again—how you hated being the voice of reason.
“Alright, alright…” he breathes, kissing your cheek instead. “I guess I can wait for later tonight.”
“You’re insatiable…” you hypocritically murmur, giving him one last kiss before pushing yourself up from the futon, patting away any creases on your dress, turning around to the door soon after…
Only to sharply tense up when Naoya’s hand harshly lands on your ass, a smack that resonated inside the room, making your cheeks even hotter as you quickly aim to confront him.
“Naoya!”
But he only responds to your scolding with a laugh, ignoring your flustered reaction as he goes back onto the futon, attempting to make the best of his day off by resting, until you come back of course.
Because even if he had other things to tend to, it didn’t mean you were free of his clutches.
Naoya was known to be very diligent when it came to his appearance: well-kept and clean were some of the words most associated with him. And depending on who you asked, unconventional too.
But even then, there was no denying that he looked good, liked looking good, and was not afraid to do what he wanted to continue being perceived like that.
However, even when knowledgeable of this aspect of his… something did not match one day.
It was like he had done something to his appearance, different from the norm, yet no one managed to pinpoint what it was. Eventually spurting rumors about it, whispers, all from people trying to figure out what was odd from Naoya-sama’s face, without having to ask him directly…
Until a member of his personal staff was able to notice it. And when he did, he couldn’t believe it, perhaps didn’t want to, never thinking Naoya would be that kind of person, even with his vanity.
But alas, curiosity took ahold of the poor man, and with all embarrassment and courage in the world, decides to ask him.
“Naoya-sama, pardon my intrusion, but I must know.”
Naoya doesn’t respond, never does, really. He doesn’t like interacting with those below him, after all…
The man takes it as his cue to continue.
“Um… well, I… wished to know if you… put something…. On… Your… lips?” the man squeaks out the last part, anyone else would’ve thought he didn’t say anything eligible.
But for an irritated Naoya, with senses heightened thanks to that same frustration, it was nothing but clear.
“What?” he asks, with a tone that immediately makes his servant tense up.
“No, I mean—They look good!” He rushes to explain, thinking his question had been misinterpreted into something negative. “Hydrated… and all that. They seem healthy!”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than stare at my lips?” Naoya frowns, the room seems to start spinning around the man.
“No! I mean—yes, I do!” He cries, wishing nothing but the earth to open and swallow him whole, alongside his shame, humiliation, and blatant stupidity for having thought bringing up this topic was a smart career move! What was he even thinking? Oh, now he’s going to get fired! “I’m—I’m sorry.”
“Get out of my sight.” Is all that your husband says, not that he needed to do much after that; he didn’t even get a chance to threaten him before the man was already out of the room and far away, freeing Naoya of his senseless idiocies and allowing him to continue enjoying his meal in peace.
Yet, even when the interaction between the two was nothing less than undesirable, Naoya couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, finding his observation to be particularly accurate, hoping that you’d come back soon to continue his “treatment” and wondering where else it could also work…
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bigasspervert... lol also I think Naoya might've thought his staff member had the hots for him, omg 😂 I mean what else could he think from that???? hhahahahahah
Anyways, I want to write that lipstick story. Imma do it. :) Hopefully soon, after everything else...
Thank you so much for sending in this ask! It was a joy to write for sure ❤️❤️❤️take care and hope to see you soon. ❤️
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anxiousnerdwritings · 2 years ago
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Could you do cersei writing to joanna!reader while tyrion has sent her to dorne with myrcella
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My Dearest Daughter,
Oh, how I miss you so, my sweet. Both you and Myrcella. There isn’t a moment that passes me by where I am not overcome with either of your absences. Truth be told, I had stood in the exact spot where I was forced to watch you be stolen away from me saw you off, watching as you sailed away from the only home you had ever known, as you sailed further and further away from me, for hours afterwards. I couldn’t be moved, I didn’t want to be. I was praying and praying that the ship would turn back around and bring you back to me, both of you, that you would be safely in my embrace once more but of course the gods could not careless for my pleas. I had even resigned myself to the comfort of your room for days on end. It was the only thing at the time that made me feel close to you again. Even after I had returned to my own chambers after my longing I still found myself in front of your door especially, (Name). It didn’t help that I could swear I still heard your voice and the sound of your laughter every so often. I even thought I caught a glimpse of you a few times out the corner of my eye, but alas I know it truly couldn’t have been you. That it could not be either of my beloved girls. I was so overcome without you that just wanted you with me again. I still want you with me, the only place you belong.
I truly, truly hope the Martells are treating the two of you well, treating you as you so deserve to be treated, and that Dorne has welcomed you with open arms. I do worry though that the longer you are away the more you will forget about us, about your real home and the family you had to leave behind. I will be honest and vulnerable with you my eldest child, but I do fear that our family will be replaced in your heart. That you will replace me. I know it sounds silly but it has always been a deep seeded fear of mine and I cannot help but worry that it will finally come true. Promise me you will never forget your mother. Promise me that you will always hold me close to your heart as I hold you to mine. It would give me some peace of mind, even if just a little.
If it weren’t for your meddlesome and trifling uncle Tyrion, we wouldn’t have been thrown into this situation. I wouldn’t have had to say goodbye to my sweet daughters and neither of you would have had to be given away to strangers. I know I shouldn’t but I truly wonder whether I will ever see you again with my own eyes. It hasn’t even been that long since you were torn away from me left but it feels like an eternity already. After you left it felt like everything else left with you. The warmth, the love, the joy; it all went with you and Myrcella the moment you got on that ship and sailed off. And the only one to blame for it is that disgusting imp of a brother of mine your conniving and spiteful uncle.
As much as I know you favor him (I have not a clue how he deceived you so but not to worry, I know it’s not your fault, he’s merely manipulating you, my poor child), your uncle Tyrion truly is far from how he portrays himself to you. This predicament alone should be proof enough of how far he’s willing to go to hurt me, to hurt us. He’s driven a wedge between us, my sweet, a wedge of oceans keeping us apart and trying to hurt me as much as possible, doing so by targeting both of you. He knows how much you mean to me, how much I hold you close to my heart and for what? His spite? His hatefulness? He doesn’t have the right to go after me through my own child, through my children!
Oh dear, my sweet darling. My sincerest apologies for ranting on as much as I have. I had no intention of this letter being anything other than my missing of you and your sister, among other things. I never meant to bring such drama to you, please do not think much of it. I wouldn’t want you needlessly worrying about us all the way from Dorne. Your uncle and I will be just fine, nothing but a bit of ‘sibling quarreling’ that’s all. Everything will be alright, I promise. Put your focus and attention into yourself and Mercy, I want my girls happy and healthy when we’re reunited again.
I love you so very much, my sweet (Name). You and Myrcella. So very, very much. We will have to plan a much needed visit very soon. I know your brothers would love to see you both again, as would your grandfather. You have been missed so dearly since you left, it would be wonderful for everyone and yourselves to be home again, even if for a short while. We can speak more on the matter later.
Once more, I love and miss you, my sweet child. I hope to have you with me again very soon.
With Love,
Mother
P.s. The gifts you and your sister have sent have been lovely and I couldn’t adore them more. They are the only things keeping me at bay for the moment. I have a few of my own I will be sending your way, I hope you both find them as fondly as I have. A little piece of home for the two of you.
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