#i mean they probably asked him to invite me so they must like me at least a little

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 7 - The Lion's Den

Chapter Summary - Y/N Is urged to meet with some of the other women involved in high society to gain some close friends and she decides to drag Mia with her. Y/N starts to realize the boys may not be as friendly as they seem.

warnings: mentions of murder, Seonghwa injures reader (MDNI)

Series Masterlist

It had been almost two weeks since I had started living with the boys. Yunho and Jongho were still pretty stand-offish, not really bothering to make conversation unless absolutely necessary. Yeosang however, had gotten better.

I figured he was shy from the start, but after I thanked him for filling my wardrobe he started asking simple questions like how my day was. It wasn't a lot, but it was progress.

Hongjoong and San had backed off a little, not actively seeking me out like the remaining three. Mingi, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung were a lot more social, Wooyoung would come and find me the second they'd come home during the workweek to tell me everything before I left for the Society, at least what he could tell me anyway.

Seonghwa's gifts hadn't stopped, however, they had broadened from simple Gardenias (Though he kept fresh ones on the dresser in my room for me). Mingi often played piano after dinner, sometimes, he'd play something from the show or past shows just to see me dance.

He always smiled so brightly when I would.

Seonghwa was the one who suggested I go to a ladies brunch over dinner. I'd glance around at the others who made no objection.

"Ladies Brunch?" I ask.

"All the women that our allies are involved with get together once a month for a ladies brunch. You should go." Seonghwa explains, bringing his fork to his mouth.

"Are there many?" I ask.

"Normally there's around 10 or 11, depending on who's available," Seonghwa says. "You could bring a friend if you like, maybe Mia?"

I nod at the mention of Mia. It would be good to see her again and catch her up on everything in person. Besides meeting other women, hopefully around my age, would probably do me some good. Maybe some of them could explain what the men actually did.

And that's why I agreed.

"You think any of them are like... Murderers?" Mia asks me as we sit in her family's limousine. "I mean, they're involved in families known to be involved in the mafia so.."

She wasn't wrong. After I had invited her, Mia had one of Marks's friends dig up some information about some of the women we'd be meeting. Jeno Lee was always pretty good at that.

Kazuko Takanashi was the fiancé to the CEO of the SVT Association, Choi Seungcheol. A large modeling and fashion company much like the one my father owned, their rival if you will. She was beautiful and worked as a model for their more expensive pieces. I assumed her husband-to-be would only allow it as such.

Park Minji was born into high society, her father running a car company. She was dating one of the leaders of SKZ Foundation, a military company, Seo Changbin. She didn't do much, but there were rumors that she was an excellent hacker.

Those were the only ones I could remember from the list, but I knew there were so many more. I recognized some of the companies, a little surprised some of them were still running.

We arrived at the club we were to meet at, one owned by the husband of one of the women we were to meet, Nari.

"Mia, don't say anything rude," I warn, getting out of the car.

"I'm not promising anything." She quips, following me.

We head inside, it's empty aside from the small group of maybe six women sitting at a long table, laughing and drinking already. I glance at Mia who looks back at me, gesturing with her head to go towards them.

I hesitate before approaching slowly. Kazuko was there, and Minji too. They looked so much friendlier in person. I clear my throat, causing one I didn't recognize to look up. She offers me a kind smile before standing.

"You must be Y/N!" She says, approaching the two of us. "And you're Mia Hua right?" Mia nods in response.

"I'm Kate. Come sit." She says, gesturing to some empty seats. "It's just us today, the others couldn't make it."

I take a seat beside Minji, her dyed blonde hair shimmering in the overhead light. Mia sits on my other side, shifting in her seat. Kate starts to introduce everyone, and my memory comes back to me; Minji, Jaehwa, Asami, Kazuko, Liv, and Kate herself. Easy enough.

I knew Asami was the oldest based on what I remembered. She was born into high society much like Minji however, she runs her own company, a tech company alongside a friend of hers, Taeyong.

Jaehwa was the younger sister of Nari, I knew she had joined the military for two years because she 'wanted to scratch an itch'. I could tell it paid off, her tan skin and muscular frame seemed oddly attractive.

Liv was a part of the TBZ Association, a law firm. I could tell she was studying me the minute I sat down, her eyes unmoving and unblinking as they stared me down. Like a predator hunting prey.

"So, ATZ Corp chose you huh?" Jaehwa asks, her voice deep. "I heard you're a dancer."

"Ballerina." I correct, noticing the quirk of Asami's eyebrow. "I'm a Ballerina for the Ballet Society."

Kazuko takes a sip of her drink. "I went to one of your shows, you're quite good." She says, glancing at me. There was something comforting about her words, yet I kept my guard up.

"What's the show?" Minji asks, her Australian accent thick.

"Coppèlia I'm pretty sure." Kazuko answers, leaning back in her seat.

"Never heard of it." Jaehwa says, elbow now propped up on the table.

I listen to the women talk. They seem friendly enough, and at least three of them are anyway. Asami looks at me before finally speaking.

"Something you wanna say?" She asks, her eyes boaring into mine. "If you have questions you can ask."

A part of me felt relieved she'd said that, opening a door for all the questions I'd had piled up to spill out. Kate gave me a reassuring look, nodding slightly for me to speak.

"I'm... It's been a long time since I've been in this life." I start. "It's all so different now.. And they guys won't tell me anything no matter how much I ask."

"It was like that for me too." Kazuko says. "I was born in the bronx. When I met Seungcheol, none of his friends or even him would tell me anything about what they did even though I grew up on the other end of it all."

I listened to her. These women had come from all different parts of society. Some are working their way up, and some are fighting to survive even now. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea.

"When Seungcheol asked me to marry him, I told him no unless he told me everything." Kazuko continues. "Eventually, he caved when he realised I was serious."

"So I threaten them?" I ask.

"Definitely don't do that!" Liv laughs, finally speaking. Her voice was sweet. Maybe she was just shy. "ATZ don't take nicely to threats."

"So what do I do?" I ask.

"Ask us." Kate says, reaching a hand over. "We won't hide anything from you."

I nod, taking a deep breath before glancing at Mia, who seems a little too invested now.

"Be honest with me. Do they hurt people?"

"Obviously, it's the mafia." Asami says. "We have to kill to keep those close to us safe. Greed is evil, and those who let it consume them will always try to take what isn't theirs."

I stare at Asami, and the bluntness in her tone causes goosebumps to coat my skin.

"The boys kill, yes, but most of the time it's business or for protection reasons. There's some corrupt companies out there, ones that kill the weak for sport. Like Belluxe." Kazuko spits, my head snaps to her hefore quickly composing myself. My fathers company? Killing for sport?

"After everything that happened with Aurora, I'm surprised they decided to let another one in." Jaehwa says, causing me to perk up at the name.

"You knew her?" I ask.

"Of course we did." Liv says, her eyes softening slightly. "I miss her sometimes... She was always a voice of reason."

"She was a fool." Asami says. "Stuck her nose in something she shouldn't have. That's what got her killed."

My blood ran cold at Asami's words. Her tone was so indifferent, like she was angry.

Aurora was killed? Because she was investigating something? But what?

"Asami!" Kate scolds.

"It's the truth!" Asami barks. "Nothing would have happened if she'd just-" Asami stops herself and lets out a sigh before standing. "Excuse me." She mutters, heading off in the direction of the bathroom.

"You'll have to excuse her." Minji says quietly to me. "She cares a lot more then she lets on."

"Aurora was killed?" Mia asks. I'd spoken to her about Aurora the night of my first day living with ATZ. She was just as curious as I was.

"She was investigating some suspicious activity even when Hongjoong told her not to." Jaehwa says. "She got too far in and ended up getting herself killed."

"What was the suspicious activity?" I ask, glancing at Kazuko.

"Do you remember the Cobra?" She asks us. Mia and I nod. The Cobra was a serial killer who caused some grief to a lot of businesses years back. He'd kill runners, undercover workers, and sometimes even leaders in gruesome ways to get his message across. His tell; all of his victims were found with poison in their system.

"But The Cobra disappeared when we were kids?" Mia questions.

"He came back. Briefly." Kate says.

"Well, there were rumours." Liv corrects. "That's what Aurora was investigating."

Aurora was trying to catch a serial killer and was killed when she got too close? Why didn't the boys tell me this? Was there more to it?

"Enough about Aurora." Jaehwa murmers as Asami returns.

The topic shifted rather quickly.

It was almost 6pm when I returned back to the estate. Seonghwa was sitting in the living room, waiting for my return.

"How was it?" He asks, not looking up from the book he was reading, Frankenstein.

"Enlightening," I answer, my tone indifferent. I was upset at them. I'd learned more from women I'd just met in a few hours than the 8 men I had been living with for almost 2 weeks.

The girls had told me all about their work, giving me some idea of what was going on in the basement as well as outside of the house that I probably would never see.

Seonghwa recognizes my tone and sighs, marking his page in his book before setting it down on the coffee table. He stands, moving in front of me now, staring down at me with a cold look.

"How much do you know?"

"Enough," I answer, staring back up at him, I hear footsteps thud to a stop behind me, whoever it was listening closely. "Funny how I can trust complete strangers more than the men I'm supposed to be with."

"If you don't trust us, why did you come back?" The voice, Hongjoong, says from behind me. I don't jump at his voice, only turning to look at him. I had nowhere else to go. The answer was as simple as that.

On the second day of my stay, I woke up to all my things from my old apartment tucked away in the corner of my room. Wooyoung had gone to collect my things and speak to my landlord that night, at least that's what he said.

"You know why," I say, my blood boiling at the teasing grin on his face. Here we go again, being laughed at. Maybe I should have stayed at Mia's tonight.

"Dinners ready!" Wooyoung calls out from the other room. "Is Y/N home?" He asks, poking his head out from behind the connecting archway.

"You could have told me she was killed." I blurt out, my gaze on Wooyoung but my words are aimed at all of them. "Did you think I couldn't handle it?" I say, looking up at Seonghwa once again.

"They told you?" Seonghwa asks, his voice low.

"Yes, because unlike you they recognize that I can handle myself." I snap, poking his chest. Big mistake. He snatches my wrist, gripping it tightly. My eyes widen and I try and pull away, Hongjoong and Wooyoung make no move to step in.

"You listen to me," Seonghwa says, his voice coming out as a growl. The gentleman I knew was long gone now. There was something sinister in his eyes as he looked down at me, the size difference suddenly feeling a lot larger the tighter he held my wrist. "You won't ask any more questions about what happened. You will not go investigating it yourself and you certainly will not ask others. That includes our housekeepers." He says quietly, his voice low and threatening.

I glance at Wooyoung, his face void of emotion as he watches from the archway. Shit.

"If I find out you have, you'll never step foot from this house ever again. Say goodbye to Mia, the Society, everything." He warns.

"Seonghwa." Hongjoong finally speaks up. Seonghwa's knuckles are white from how tightly he was gripping my wrist. "Let her go. She's gotten the hint." Hongjoong says, taking a step forward.

Seonghwa lets go and I pull back, bumping into Hongjoong. I jump away from him, backing up into the foyer. I stare back at them with wide eyes, clutching my wrist as they stare back at me. A sick feeling overcomes me as I mutter out three words before scurrying up the stairs.

"I'm not hungry."

Mingi had come upstairs to check on me a few hours later. He carried a plate of food in his hands and his expression adorned a pouty expression. Surprisingly, I let him in.

He sets the plate of food down on my dresser before taking a seat on the loveseat by the window.

"Wooyoung told us what happened." He says, holding his hand out and glancing down at my wrist. I hesitate for a moment before letting him take it. His touch was gentle as he examined the light bruise, his eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't think Seonghwa would ever hurt you.."

"Yeah, me too." I huff, looking down at the ground. "I guess I was wrong to trust you all so quickly."

"Trust is human nature, it's who we gift it to that could come with consequences." He says softly, moving his hand from my wrist and holding my hand in his. I feel some butterflies flutter in my stomach as he does. "I'll beat him up for you tomorrow if you want." He says, causing me to snort.

"There's no need." I laugh, squeezing his hand which makes his eyes sparkle. At least I still had Mingi. I let out a soft sigh, moving to sit beside him. "Why are you guys so hesitant to tell me about her?" I ask, staring at the floor.

"Some of us want to," Mingi says honestly. "But it's a sensitive topic." He adds.

"I understand that," I say. "But that doesn't mean I'm not curious. Why can't I look into her death? I know it has something to do with The Cobra." I look at him and he looks at me.

"Why do you say that like it's personal?" He asks, his deep voice breaking through the brief silence.

I hesitate again for a moment. "Because it is," I say. Maybe if I'm honest with him, he'll be honest with me. But I didn't want to tell him the whole story, it hurt too much to even think about.

Then the realization hit me.

That's why they didn't want to talk about Aurora. It was too personal. It brought feelings to the surface that they wanted to forget about. It made sense now, and a feeling of guilt settled in my stomach.

Mingi must have picked up on my conflict of emotions, as he cups my cheek to bring me back to him.

"I won't stop you from finding answers." He says softly. "But that doesn't mean the others won't try. And I can't protect you if that happens."

I nod in response. It's like he knew already, my mind went back to the night we first met. He'd known I grew up in high society, did he know what happened to Chaluai?

"Thank you," I whisper, our faces not resisting the magnetic pull.

"For what?" He murmurs, not pulling away as he glances down at my lips.

"For understanding," I say as our noses brush.

Then, our lips met. The kiss was featherlike like he was scared to hurt me any further. When we pull away, he rests his forehead on mine briefly.

"Give them time." He says softly, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. "They'll stop taking you for granted eventually."

With that, he stands, pulling away from me slowly as if a part of him was telling him to stay.

I watch him as he heads towards the door, offering him a goodnight before he shuts the door behind him, leaving me in the silence of my thoughts once again.

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[ftm-megamind]

me and my boyfriend are sooo javid (he invited me over for a family dinner)

[tojisun]

something about best friend simon not knowing any boundaries (or, deliberately bulldozing through boundaries)—

the way he’s the one who picks you up in the airport even though you and your boyfriend already made arrangements for the pick up, but simon just says he offered to take over because your parents needed help setting things up in their lake house and that your boyfriend offered to help them.

(simon made him offer to help. it’s hidden so well behind honest concern that your boyfriend didn’t notice that simon’s been pushing him into the role until simon's calling out his goodbye's, saying he's off to pick you up now.

"oh, i can-"

"don't sweat it, mate," simon replies with a pinched smile. "i'll drive carefully, promise. bring her back, all safe and lovely.")

you didn’t even know simon’s invited to the vacation, but you gladly murmured to him your thanks, too caught up in your exhaustion to notice the little mean grin that tugged his lips up.

you clamber to his rover messily, blinking slowly, and before you can reach over to buckle your seatbelt, simon leans over and does it for you.

"could've done it myself, y'know?" you whine.

"sure you can," he grunts as he pulls himself back to his seat. "not like y'were one blown wind away from keeling over, but sure."

you roll your eyes at him playfully before biting a giggle when he scrunches his nose at you in reply.

he takes the long route back.

"want anythin' to eat?" simon asks after a while.

"don't we—" you pause, yawning. "need to hurry back?"

"not really," he replies, eyes flicking to the side mirror before he rounds a sharp curve. your body jostles, falling to the side, slipping towards the gear, and simon's hand falls to your lap to steady you.

he doesn't remove it even when the road straightens.

"okay," you finally reply, tired eyes blinking at the size of his hand on your leg. "m'kinda hungry."

he huffs a fond laugh and says he knows a place close by.

it's a local burger joint, apparently known for their fries and milkshake. simon buys you one.

"aww," you croon, grabby hands pulling the cold cup closer to you. "thank you, si."

you two eat in his rover, too lazy to actually settle in the diner.

it's greasy and messy and delicious. simon says you look filthy, before reaching over to wipe the stray milkshake on the corner of your lips. you poke your tongue out to him in reply; he says to swallow that back in before he yanks it out.

you laugh, chucking a balled-up napkin towards him before jumping out of his SUV to run to the bathroom.

(you didn't notice the throngs of messages coming in from your boyfriend nor the way simon swiped your phone from your back pocket and kept it.

he remembers your passcode—still unchanged even after all these years—and reads the messages that your boyfriend sent.

he's asking if you've landed or if you and simon are on your way back. he says he also misses you dearly, and that he can't wait to finally be with you again.

simon deletes them all.)

the two of you return when it’s well into the night, and everyone's gone to sleep. you sigh, feeling the exhaustion hitting you harder now, and amble to your room where you know your boyfriend must be waiting for you, only to stop when simon holds your arm.

"wanna sleep with me?"

"what," you begin, turning your sleepy eyes up at him. "no that's alright. my boyfriend's—"

"asleep, already. probably got ordered 'round by your pa, huh?" he smiles, his thumb swiping along the side of your forearm. "y'might wake up the poor lad if you go there so why don't you sleep in my room just for tonight?"

simon's words wash over you and you know, somehow, there's something wrong with them, with him, but your mind is bogged down by your drowsiness. you can't rationalize what's going on, so you say yes.

that's all simon needed to pull you to his room and into his bed.

you slip out of your clothes, per simon's instructions—his words all muffled as you try to stay up awake—and slip into something loose and baggy—stretched in its overuse but so comfortable on your skin.

it's simon's shirt, you'll learn tomorrow, but for now, you drop to the bed, your eyes shut close, and fall in deep sleep.

the last thing you feel is the heavy dip on the mattress behind you before a thick arm is thrown over your side, pressing into the fat of your stomach to push you back and into simon's front.

limbs lay tangled together, breaths shared, and the summer heat buzzing as skin meets skin.

-

simon doesn't get any better after that. he gets so clingy, and intrudes in your space and forces your boyfriend out.

your boyfriend complained, of course he did, but what could you do? what could you say? simon's your childhood friend so there's nothing malicious between you two. there's nothing more into it.

he gave up fighting then, fists tucked close to his sides as you kissed his jaw and told him to trust you on your words.

but—

how can he calm down? how can he not burn in anger when he sees the way simon pulls you to his lap and you readily nuzzle close. granted it's all because the two of you are watching some game on your phone and the position must be the only way to watch it comfortably, whatever, but it rubs him so wrong how familiar you and simon fall into each other.

how can he not doubt your words when he catches simon's eyes narrowed at him in quiet delight, before deliberately curling his arm around your stomach, and throws the other one on your lap, so dangerously close to your crotch.

it's even worse when the family gathers to the lake, and you and simon are chasing each other, playfighting in front of everyone. simon picks you up with ease, big hands digging into the fat of your belly or your thighs or gripping your ass like simon's so intimately familiar with your body.

how can he not hate himself a little bit when he realizes that it was always you and simon. that that's the dynamic.

-

(and if simon successfully seduces you during this vacation, well—)

-

ext

[mywritersmind]

GO OUT WITH ME - LN4

summary : Lando doesn’t beg. But when it comes to y/n, he can’t help it.

listen up : nothing big to note! just cuteness

word count : 945

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Go out with me.” He says for the third time today, watching me swipe on my strawberry lip gloss. I pocket the bottle into my jeans pocket, crossing my arms over my black vest. I look to Lando who’s behind me in his papaya suit.

“Could you please stop bothering my friend?” Oscar says, sitting on a stool in his own driver's room.

“I will if she says yes.” He looks at me with big blue eyes, smiling. Too bad I have to crush his dreams.

“No.” I shrug and look back to my childhood best friend.

“Why are you even here, Lan?” Oscar leans his head back against the wall.

“What do you mean? I love hanging out with my bestie!” He stands, messing with Oscar’s hair. I laugh a bit and his face lights up, “Go out with me.”

“Goodbye Lando!” Oscar pushes him out the door and slams it in his face. “You know he will stop if you ask him, right?”

I look at my manicure, sighing, “Yeah, I know.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Lando won. I go to a race to watch Oscar and everywhere I turn, Landos face is being projected onto some screen. I was there in Miami and now I'm here in the Netherlands.

I’m leaving the paddock when I literally run into the man. I told you he’s everywhere!

He’s smiling like I've never seen before, sweaty and laughing before he looks up at me, “Shit, Y/n! I’m sorry.”

“No problem.” I shake my head, “Congrats, by the way.” He bites his lip, his suit unzipped and water bottle in hand.

“Thanks! You must be a good luck charm.” he winks and I'm thoroughly reminded how attractive he is. I won’t go out with him but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate him.

“You going out to celebrate?” He’s walking with me through the hall.

“Nah I want fast food and a movie.” He shakes his head, a curl falling onto his forehead. “Join me?”

“Bye, Norris.” I walk out the door.

I can practically hear the smile in his sweet accent, “See you later, Y/l/n.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I knock on Oscar’s door repeatedly, “Open up, Idiot!”

No reply.

My stupid best friend hasn’t responded to me all night, we had plans for me to cheer him up after his crappy race but he’s totally ditching me!

“That’s my room.” I freeze when he speaks. The British accent is one that I will not confuse with Oscars.

I slowly turn to Lando, “Oh.”

“Any reason you’ve come for a visit?” He holds a bucket of ice and a dutch chocolate bar. “Change your mind about the date?”

I pull my lips into a thin line, “No! I’m looking for Oscar.”

He walks closer to me, “We switched rooms. He's a level down.”

“Shit.” I roll my eyes, “You think he’s asleep?”

“Definitely. Seemed wiped after today.” He shrugs and eyes the bag I'm holding.

I was supposed to cheer him up after a crappy race, I bought all the Australian treats I could find, “Great.” I sigh. ”He’s leaving tomorrow morning so now I’m stuck with all these snacks.”

“Snacks?” Lando almost laughs, “Poor you, stuck with food.”

“Australian snacks! We were supposed to watch ‘How to lose a guy in ten days’ and he was supposed to complain about it!” I frown, I don’t get to see Oscar often even though he’s just come from break, I barely saw him.

Lando unlocks his room, “I’m sorry. I’d invite you in but I'm assuming you’d say no.”

“Lando Norris… Are you giving up?”

His head shoots up when I say it, “No! I’m respecting your wishes.” He opens the door and walks in, clearly waiting for me to make my decision.

I push past him and jump the snacks onto his bed, “Oscar told me you don’t like tim tams.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

An hour later I find myself watching Oscar and I’s movie with Lando. He’s actually really funny, and genuinely thinks this movie is hilarious.

I’m caught looking at him, “Everything okay?”

I nod slowly, pretending like I wasn’t just examining his face, “Can I ask you something?” He nods, “If I said yes… to a proper date- what would you do?”

He smiles, “Probably jump for joy, if i’m being honest.”

I roll my eyes.

“You know I don’t just ask you out on some whim right?“ He’s being serious. “I like you. I want to get to know you more.” He says it so casually but I can tell he’s nervous.

I can’t breathe, “More than just Oscar's friend?”

Lando shakes his head, toying with a candy in his hand, “You’ve always been more than Oscar's friend.”

“Then, yes.” I’m certain this time.

“Yes?”

“Yes i’ll go out with you.”

He blinks.

“You better not be joking.”

“I’m not!” I laugh and he puts his head into his hands, “Lando!”

“I knew you’d come around!” He points at me before pausing again, “This isn’t some pity thing, right? Just because I’m alone after I won doesn’t mean I’m all sad or something!”

“Lando.” I try but he keeps going.

“I did win, after all! And I don’t want you to say yes because of that either because it’s cool and all but I am more than a win also I swear I have other friends besides Os-”

“Lando!” I laugh and grab his face. He stops speaking, “I want to go out with you. Because you’re you.”

I can feel his heart beating, “That’s good.”

“Very good.” I agree. His smile hits me once more and I match it, “You’re cute.”

“I think I'm dreaming.”

note : race was TOUGHHH today😭 had to write smt happy to cope. loved it for charles tho can’t lie! hope you enjoy!

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Day 2: Woods + Day 23: Witch for @steddie-spooktober

"Did you come to burn the witch?"

Steve just blinked at the weird man. He was probably a bit taller than him, with wild curls of hair and a mischievous smile. "Why should I?" he quipped back. "It's fucking hot, I came to the woods to cool down. The last thing I want is to get even warmer. Fire's warm."

The man just snorted. "Oh, I got a smart one today. Good for me." He hopped down from the tree he was sitting in and landed in front of Steve. "Such a pretty one too. They never send someone pretty to burn me."

"Once again, I'm not here to burn you."

The witch clutched his chest. "Ouch. And here I thought we had a spark."

Steve didn't dignify that with a response.

And the witch didn't let that deter him. "You know, a spark? As in...a spark that would start a fire? With, I don't know, a nice stake in the middle?"

Steve groaned and rubbed his temples. "If I agree to burn you, will you let me sweat in peace? I hear a spring nearby and I really need to cool down before I pass out from the heat."

The man shook his head. "You people. You cut down the trees for your villages and then wonder why you get a sunstroke." He glanced at Steve's red face, his sweaty hair, and for a second longer, his damp shirt. "Well, I'm a mean, evil witch, but I'm not that cruel. The spring's this way, come with me."

It only took a while for Steve to take of his shoes and dip his feet into the nearby spring, groaning in relief. The witch was crouched next to him, studying his face. "So really. How did you get here? I thought I was a cautionary tale for all the good children in the village, so they never let you go this way unless you need something."

Steve muttered something unintelligible.

"Huh? What's that?"

"...got lost."

The witch's face broke out in a wide grin. "Did you now? Such a big boy, not seeing the warning signs on the trees?"

Steve just grunted and leaned down to splash his face with water, then drink some. "I don't know, man. Must have been the heat. I was working in a field and fell asleep. Stupid, I know. When I woke up, I was so dizzy I thought it was a great idea to go to the woods. I could barely remember my name - that's Steve, by the way, if you need it for a hex or something. I was walking around for what seemed like ages. Then you asked me to burn you. And here I am."

"And here you are," repeated the witch. "Well, you obviously don't have any matches on you, so we're cool, I guess. Name's Eddie, although I rarely use it."

"Because you're a big bad witch?" snorted Steve.

Eddie shrugged. "Well, yeah. Because when others talk about me, they don't think I'm a person. I'm a boogeyman to them. Someone who kills their crops, trades remedies for firstborn children for dinner...the usual stuff."

"Do they taste good?"

That gave Eddie a pause. "What does?"

"The firstborn children."

Eddie stared at Steve. Steve stared back. Then they both burst into laughter at the same time. "Suppose I should invite you for dinner so you can answer that?" said Eddie after they had finally quieted down.

Steve smiled at him, and Eddie could swear he winked at him. "Suppose you should."

...

Steve stayed for dinner - no children were served, but lots of vegetables and delicious herbs - and Eddie made sure he was fully okay before letting him go. "Sunstroke's no joke, Steve, no sleeping in the field or I'll curse you! Stop giggling, I'll do it! I'll send my cat to eat your ears or something!"

With Steve's footsteps sounding more and more distant, Eddie's cottage grew quiet again. For the fist time in years, he hated it.

The quiet lasted until the next evening, when there was a knock on his door, and behind it, Steve. He was carrying some grapes and apples, a fresh loaf of bread, and it seemed he'd even combed his hair and wore a clean shirt. 

Eddie just stared at him. "You got lost again?" he asked incredulously. Because no one came back to him. Not unless they needed something.

Steve just shushed him and headed directly to the table, setting the plates as if it had been his home too. "You know what's great about all the warning signs on the trees? They will always lead me back to you."

Eddie's face was starting to hurt from all the smiling. "So you can burn me?" he asked with a snort, well, maybe a tiny sob too.

"Burning you would be a shame," said Steve as he lit a small candle on the table, "since I have much better ideas how to spend our evening."

Eddie popped a grape in his mouth. "Funny," he mumbled around it, "so do I."

[bee-wg]

Year 2:

“Jay! What the Flip?” It’s the ass crack of dawn, and Theo is already trying his best SpongeBob impression.

“Whaaat?” I yelled back with a mouth full of pancakes.

“You put your dirty clothes on my bed again!” He squealed.

”Dude, you asked for it. What are you whining about?”

“Boys, What did I say about yelling in the morning?” She yelled.

“Yewn, bwintow!” I think Dad was telling us to break it off, but he’s too lost in the Cream Cheese Danish.

Can’t blame him. Delicious and high protein? There’s nothing better.

Theo rushed down with a constipated face. 

“Ewww. They’re still wet to the touch. Wait. Is it dripping sweat?”

Okay. I overlooked the wet part, but he asked me to have it. 

I’ve been cleaning out some gym clothes that don't fit anymore, and Theo wanted some. I’ve decided to fully commit on football and my stocky phase, so I gave that shirt one last try yesterday. It was definitely not made for a more rugged build person. As I walked around the house, I unknowingly soaked it. I used to be disgusted with sweating. I would shower and wash the clothes by hand after each morning run. Recently I’ve been sweating a lot easier, but Dad told me to look at the bright side of things, and I do see it. Usually I would only sweat when I get a real good workout. Since it's easier to sweat buckets, that means I’m getting lots of exercise.

That leads back to this. I don’t feel as compelled to wash them anymore. They’re the result of my hard work on the journey back to being shredded. 

“No more pancakes in the morning for the month.” He said.

“What?…But…You can’t do that.” 

His face tells me, “Yes, loser. I can.”

***

“What happened, dude? Your cat died?” Brad asked.

This is supposed to be an easy practice because it’s the last before the summer. I guess Coach woke up and chose violence. 

I’ve been only doing a few yards of Quick Steps and Sumo squats. My lungs are now collapsing.

I’m only 230 pounds; there are players heavier than me doing better. I’m doing something wrong. It must be because I didn’t have protein pancakes for days.

“Dude, you there?” Brad asked.

Trying not to wheeze, I replied.

“Yeah, S’all good. I’m just hungry.” 

It would be an understatement. When you’re used to protein goods pumping your belly full of energy every morning, what does five English muffins and some hash browns even do?”

“Hahaha, classic Jay. You’re the man.” Brad answers with a slap on my back.

“Gosh, you’re getting sweatier than Aiden.” He said in disbelief.

“Oh, by the way. Aiden’s going to Costco to buy a speaker for our dorm. You mind giving him a lift?” Brad asked.

“Bad timing man, my dad broke the old Toyota. It’s taking a long time to repair.”

“No problem. I’ll see you next semester then. Take care!” Brad waved as he sprinted out of the field.

***

I felt like I could eat a horse when the bus arrived. I passed through the usual stops, and finally.

The warm smell of chicken nuggets invites me.

I pull out my phone and check. Ten consecutive days. I can definitely redeem a free meal today.

“Welcome, what can I get you?” The cashier asked.

“Can I have the Double Western Deluxe Combo?” “ I have the loyalty discount.”

“Thank you, here’s your number.”

After what felt like forever, they finally called my number. 

It’s a pretty big meal, but today’s situation calls for it. 

I’ve been doing pretty well sticking to a fries-only diet when I’m here. With some occasional burgers and soda thrown in, I’ve accumulated a few thousand points to have meals like this once in a while. The only downside is the bus here takes way too long. I guess it’s better than the neighbours knowing I’m a regular customer. 

As I finished the fries, I saw a guy wandering outside with my university’s gym bag.

Wait, is he from the team? 

Wait, is that Aiden?

No. Shit, Is Aiden waving to me?

He’s probably waving to someone else.

Then the door’s jingle chimes.

“Yo, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Aiden said.

My alone time is ruined.

“Yeah man, me too. What brought you here?” I asked.

“Just bought the speaker and couldn’t find any restaurants here. I thought Costco had a food court.” He looked down at my plate.

“Whatchu havin’? Oh Damnnn, that’s a chunky burger!” He said in excitement.

“Haven’t had them in years, my mom hates that shit.” 

I just wish to crawl into a hole at this point.

“Yeah, my mom hates them to-” 

“I should have one too.” Aiden interrupted.

”What?”

Then he came back with a smaller combo with a box of salad.

“Oh man, I’ve been wanting to have a taste for so long,” Aiden said with glittering eyes.

He got a few bites of the burger and fries, then moved on to the salad.

“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked.

“Oh, not much. Probably hang out with the guys. My dad wants me to go to a training camp though. It’s not like I will play football after college anyway, so what’s the point?”

Then we talk about dorm drama and who the coach is going to recommend to the NFL scouts.

He is actually quite chill to talk to. 

“You don’t like it?” I point down to his unfinished burger.

“No, it’s the best thing I’ve had in years. Definitely beating celery or carrots. I just have a diet going on, and I kinda impulse bought this.”

“I could finish it for you.” I offered.

“Really? Thank you so much dude!” He said.

“You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. I always thought you had a stick up your ass.” He added unhelpfully.

By the time the last of his burger and fries disappeared in my stomach, I was ready to sleep it off when I got home. 

My phone rang, waking me up from sleep. It’s 2 AM.

Probably Number Seven. He always calls at an odd hour. 

I picked up the call.

“Duuuuuuude, I didn’t know you go to fast foods. I thought we don’t keep anything from each other.” Instead of number seven, Brad said.

“Jay, knock it off,” Theo grumbled on the other side of the room.

“Keep it down, Brad. What is it?” 

I knew shit would get out of the bag sooner or later. At least I had two weeks of peace.

“Next time let me join too!” Brad said.

What the hell is up with these people? 

“Fine, whatever. Let me go to sleep.”

“Thanks a lot, man. I’ve never had fast food before!”

I have the feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass later.

Brad is calling me. Again.

“Dude, what?” I asked calmly.

“Woah, no need to get so worked up.”

“I asked some of my mates, they all agreed to meet up at the mall’s parking lot,” Brad said.

What is going on? It’s only been five hours since he last called me.

“Don’t forget to bring your laptop and an empty stomach! It’s gonna be an epic summer.” Then he hung up on me.

I should be used to Brad’s bullshit by now. He’s been like this since high school.

The bus on the way there is as tedious as usual. 

Why did he tell me to go with an empty stomach? Didn’t he know that I get really grumpy without any breakfast? It’s worse now without pancakes.

He looks at me eagerly, like a dog finding its treat.

“What is it, man?” I asked as he led me to the back of the restaurant.

Then, no Harry Potter bullshit, he opened the wall.

“What the hell? There was a room back here all this time?”

“Wait, Brad. You rented a party room?”

“It’s sick, right? I thought we could chill here for the summer, and go to the river nearby when we’re bored. Oh, I also brought the guys here. And a projector!”

“How did you afford this? I didn’t know you were rich.” I look at the big ass room with my friends in there already playing video games. Even Aiden the snitch is here.

“Oh, I have a pretty successful OnlyFans account. I thought I could spend it on you guys.”

“…”

“…”

“Good for you, man. Gotta hustle in this economy.”

He ordered a party combo with a bunch of salad. Then we started playing video games. It wasn’t until I was on a losing streak playing Yoshi on Mario Kart, I realized. They were staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

“So…Can you help us finish?” Aiden said.

Oh no. Not again. I turned to look at Brad.

He responded with a toothy grin.

“Please Jay, you have, like, the biggest appetite out of all of us. Look at all this free food going to waste. I bet you’re still hungry.”

“There are five of you,” I said.

“Marcus can help,” Brad added.

“Wait, me?” Marcus said.

He’s the team’s linebacker. The only guy bigger than me.

“Fine. At least it’s free.” I said reluctantly.

The fact that all of the juicy meat is screaming for my attention might be clouding my judgment.

We continued playing games, watched some movies while I munch

It was pretty fun. I got to talk to the people I wouldn’t usually talk to.

For example, I didn’t know Braxton played piano or Oscar was a hardcore Pokémon card collector.

The rest of the summer continued and the guys would meet up about three times a week.

I should’ve said no the second time Brad asked. But how can I let the food go to waste when the guys need me?

Marcus doesn’t come often because he’s occupied with his boyfriend. So the guys developed a way for me to eat all of their share. I would drink a dubious amount of water to expand my stomach in the morning, giving me more space. 

It was incredibly stupid, but when the guys cheered me up while I devoured the last of the remains, I felt pretty proud of myself.

By the end of the summer, not wanting to waste the last of our freedom. Everyone has been scrambling for things to do.

That’s where Brad’s dad comes in. He organized a BBQ party by the beach and invited all the football Dads from high school who were still in their little group chat. Of course, we are invited too.

“Oh come on, Jay Jay. You have to go, or else I’m gonna be all alone.” Brad whined.

“No Brad. You’re gonna be with twenty people, you won’t be alone.” I replied.

“If you’re worried about not having any swim trunks that fit, you can borrow from my old man, or we could go shopping together.” Shit, he’s awfully insightful.

“Your dad is like, 500 pounds. I’m not that fat, dude.”

Then Theo asked me if he could join cause he had grown out of his swim shorts too. Whatever that means.

That’s how we ended up here with Brad showing me an ugly Hawaii print speedo with a blue Jay on it, and Theo laughing his ass off with him.

“No, I’m not going to wear that,” I said for the final time.

“You’re no fun, Jay,” Theo said.

“Right? This guy gets it.” Brad replied to him.

“So you’re the culprit who made Jay fat,” Brad asked.

”Dude, you don’t know the half of it. I basically sacrificed myself to advance his cooking career.” I added.

“I don’t know. I would think taking care of his laundry, dishes, and meals, just to have him burp in my face and snore at night makes up for it. If anything, I'm doing too much. I should stop doing the protein pancakes agai-“ 

”Theo! You’re literally the best chef in the world. I am honoured to be your Guinea pig for the rest of my life.” I said.

He smiled 

Yes! Crises subverted.

“Hahahahaha you two are so strange.” Brad, who is still listening, said.

The possibility of protein pancakes being taken away from me sends shivers down my spine. I try to refocus on Brad’s shenanigans.

He came out of the fitting room with a professional swimming Jammer.

Why did he even take his shirt off? Goddamn washboard abs.

“Don’t you think it’s too extra for the beach barbecue?” I asked.

“I think it fits him nicely,” Theo said.

“Theo, you get me,” Brad said, then winked at him.

Is he trying to rizz my cousin?

“It’s my turn!” Theo said, grabbing a few trunks he chose.

Then he came out, without a shirt too, wearing a bright orange swim shorts.

“I see you’re putting my gym membership to good use.” Goddamn washboard abs, where did that even come from? Now that I think of it, he’s been fitting my old gym clothes better.

“You look awesome, Theo. The orange fits you nicely.” Brad said.

“I guess it’s my turn,” I said without enthusiasm.

After struggling to pull it up my ass. I walked out with the ugly print forest green trunk that’s wedged between my inner thighs; with a shirt on, thank you very much.

“Woah, look at those hefty thighs,” Brad said.

I’m out of options, and there’s no way I’m walking into another swimwear store again. So we made our way to the counter.

The day for the beach finally arrives, and I can already feel the swim trunks digging into my ass.

What’s more annoying is that Mom and Dad are now angry at me.

I would be angry at myself too.

Now I’m in a car with no AC, listening to how I should make better life choices.

“Jay, I didn’t think you would sneak off for fast food without telling us.” Mom said.

She caught the extra burgers I sneaked in to munch on at night this morning.

“Jacob, don’t you remember what I told you about garbage food?” Dad asked.

He said my full name. He never says my full name.

“If you want fried chicken you could ask mom to make it. You know it’s healthier at home.” Dad said.

“Am I not making enough, Jay?” Mom asked.

“I’m sorry Mom, I know I shouldn’t go,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, honey. We can get through this together. If you want more fried food, Theo and I will make lots of it at home.”

“I got you, Jay,” Theo said, patting my shoulder.

We finally got to the beachside. After finding a shade to park our car, Dad struggled a bit to get out of the car. It seems like the old Toyota is seeing its last days. We might need to upgrade the car soon.

I know Dad is probably not mad at me, but his disappointment was worse.

Hopefully he can forgive me after getting some barbecue in his stomach.

We started setting up the chairs with Brad’s dad as more of my high school friends and their dads started coming in. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated.

Dad went to greet them and it looked like he fit right in.

He was the Dad everyone’s dad was jealous of but couldn’t help to like him.

I was pretty shocked when I heard Dad wanted to come because he always declined their barbecue invites. 

He was the fittest of the group, but it looks like he is one of the heavier guys here. Dad told me he’s almost 260 pounds now, so Theo and I will probably lose again this year.

I feel conflicted. I wanted to look like Dad before when he had chiselled abs, but I also want to look like him now when he has a much larger presence with the same amount of confidence. I can’t do either correctly.

“You daydreaming, bro?” Brad said.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get the boxes out,” I replied.

“Just so you know, you can tell me whatever you want, Alright?” He said.

“Thanks man, appreciate it.”

He’s too pure to know about my problem with how my abs or belly doesn’t look right.

We got the tablecloth pinned in place to withstand the wind, then set up some disposable tableware.

“Good job, son,” Dad said as he patted my back.

I smiled for the first time today.

Brad’s dad put us on watch duty for the grill while I fought not to drool on the food. 

I’ll get my share. Old people first.

“Jacob? You’re all grown up! You’re a big boy now, almost as big as me. I bet you made your father proud.” Mr. Lancaster said. 

“Mr. Lancaster, you’re here! I didn’t know you were coming.”

He used to take me to his house with Ms. Lancaster when my mom was busy, or when Dad was substituting for other teachers.

Avery and I used to-

Wait, Avery is here?

I looked around to scan everyone.

“Oh, my boy is having a problem with his car, so he is probably not coming.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“We have the same issue too; it’s been a mess. Say hello to Avery for me, eh?”

“Of course, good to see you, Jay.” He replied.

I sighed in relief. I don’t know what to say to Avery if he comes. I missed him, but I also ignored him a couple times when I spotted him at the fast food place.

We served for an hour and a half. I probably lost the 60weight pounds I’ve gained, and my stomach is definitely deflated now.

Note to self: If I ever need to lose weight again, just stare at tasty barbecues all day just to have none of it.

“Ahem. Woah cool! Look at that shiny thing over there. I’m going to go fetch it!” Brad said suddenly, then ran off.

“Wait, you still have your-“

He ditched me.

I tried to flip over both of our grills to no avail.

“You need help?”

“Ahhhhhh!”I yelped.

Ave laughs with his usual lopsided smile.

“I thought you were,” I said.

“Dead? No. I caught an Uber.” Avery said.

“Right. Long time no see.” I reached out my hand for a shake.

“Seriously, Jay? When did you start doing that shit?” Ave said.

Same old Avery then. I took my hand back and hid a grin.

He looked so different I didn’t know how to react. By the looks of it, he’s almost doubled my weight, maybe around 450s. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.” He said.

“You looked good too.” Now that I see him closely, it suits him, makes him look sturdy. His ass is hanging out in the back like a bra though.

“What were you up to this past year?” I asked.

“Well you know, I screwed up the football scholarship. But it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He said.

“I was pretty depressed for a bit, so I decided to go on one of the self-searching trips to some countries and states...”

Then he told me about the kind people and assholes he met on the way, as we finally sat down with our share of Barbecues.

Ave said that he got to eat food he never imagined existed, learn about cultures that changed his perspective on things.

He said he has never felt freer of any emotional constraints than he is now. I couldn't stop my smile from forming. I’m really happy for him.

He has always been harsh on himself. When school didn’t work, he dedicated his all to sports. On his way there, I felt like I lost a friend.

We talked for hours about the airplane seats being a bitch and how he’s sorry for whoever sat next to him, or about how I am addicted to fast foods and pancakes. He’s probably the only one I know that can relate.

I was lost in the conversation, with Brad interrupting occasionally with strange looks of wiggling eyebrows or smug smiles. I really don’t know what he’s on.

It’s when Dad is folding up the seats, and Brad’s dad cleans up the grill. Ave asked me.

“Wanna do this again sometime? My dad’s coffee shop has a new brownie coming up that he’s really proud of.”

Yes, of course. I wanna learn more about you and be friends again.

“Sorry, men. School is going to be busy. I also need to focus on football more this year, or I will get too fat to play.” I said.

“No problem Jay. You know I’ll always be there for you.” Avery said.

I tried to one arm hug him and he fully embraced me. His body is so warm and unbelievably soft.

For a moment, I wished I was proud like him. But I’m not free like him

Gathering supplies Dad brought, I walked back to the car, forgetting to ask for his number.

The school year started without much fanfare. But the feeling of estrangement grew.

Hanging out with the team was fun, but playing the game just doesn’t bring me the same amount of rush and anticipation anymore, instead, I look forward to the meal after the game that brings me the rush. It’s not like I was playing the game much anyway; I’m a glorified Waterboy now. My job is to refuel the Gatorade or water, then squirt it into the guys’ mouths. After that, I just need to hand them the towel and sit back to finish my hot dog. 

I know the team appreciates me. I would keep doing it for them if not for Coach’s disappointing stares. He probably thought I would be a star player like Dad, but I ended up fatter than the linebacker. I would be disappointed too.

My decision was made following the buzzing call of our defeat.

Chapter 3 ->

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 3: Poltergeist

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.8k Words

Warning/Notes: Ghost x Reader, a little of ass eating from Ghost, fingering, a bit mean Ghost, hair pulling, angst.

“Hey, Birdie.”

“Hey, Ghost.”

The two of you look at each other, each expecting the other to make a move. But since he doesn't seem bothered by the silence, you break it.

“Here for work or pleasure?” You ask opening the door as he chuckles.

“Well, that's not my choice.” He answers looking at you. “Half and half, I suppose.”

“Why is that?” You ask as you enter your flat, leaving the door open for him to enter. But when you notice he is not moving you turn to him. “Are you gonna come in or do I need to invite you like a vampire?”

You see the smile on his eyes (mainly because that's the only thing you can see of his face), and he impulses himself off the wall as he walks closer to your door. 

“And what would your neighbours think? A girl like you letting a man like me inside her house?” He asks cocking his head.

“Well, actually, I don't know if you have heard. But just last night my neighbour was taken by the police because turns out he was a terrorist or something like that, I'm not sure. So I think I am out of the competition for worst neighbour of the year, so, yeah, please c’mon in.” 

You hear him chuckle behind your back as you walk into your room, and a little later you hear the door close. Maybe calling it a room is a big stretch, your whole flat is a room. A small hall that goes from the door to where your bed is, a door on the hall to your bathroom and another one to your kitchen. 

Having breakfast in bed sounds great, but having lunch and dinner sounds a bit sad. But that's the flat you could get, and honestly, thanks to your neighbour's hobbies, at least you know the rent is not going to go higher.

“You know, jumping the wall on your balcony was ridiculously easy, you should probably get a lock for that window.” He comments looking at your window as he enters your line of vision.

“Then I would lose my deposit.” You answer sitting down on your bed to take off your shoes. You take off your jacket next and hang it in your closet. “Are you hungry?”

“Hmm, depends on what's the offer.” He says leaning against the wall again. He follows you with his gaze as you walk to your kitchen and open the fridge with a face. He chuckles when you close the door back and look at him. “Takeout?”

“Takeout it is.” You answer taking your phone out. “What do you fancy, Ghost?” 

“You know? Most people freak out when I get inside their house, don't ask me what I want for dinner.” He says crossing his arms.

“Should I freak out?” You ask looking at him with an eyebrow raised as you lend him your phone with the delivery app open. “Order whatever you want, I'm no picky. I'm gonna take a shower, if the food gets here there is money behind that frame.”

You point out the only frame on your whole house and walk into the bathroom. You try to walk with confidence, but once inside the room, you let a sight escape your lips.

When you said yesterday you were going to push Price and Kyle away, you didn't mean it as in pulling the rest of the team closer. 

This is bad, is mean and honestly, you must be on some weird week of your cycle where you are producing more pheromones than usual because you were chronically single for years and now can't seem to catch a break. 

You open the tap to wait for the water to warm up as you undress. Just as you take your shirt off your pants you notice you didn't pick your pyjamas, so you walk back out.

You see Ghost seated on your bed, back leaning against the headboard, feet dangling off the bedside and scrolling through your phone.

“You can take off your shoes, you know.” You comment as you pick up the plaid pants and massive sweatshirt you wear to sleep as well as your underwear.

“You are a sneaky one, you know.” He responds looking at you almost offended he didn't hear you exit the bathroom.

You chuckle at him and walk back inside the bathroom. The shower helps you calm your nerves, the man is in your bed, and he hasn't made any moves yet; probably because he is not into you, you need to humble yourself a bit. 

At some point you hear the doorbell and your stomach grumbles almost as a reaction. You quickly finish your shower, put on your clothes and walk back to the room. 

“Chinese?” You ask when you see the containers as he stays looking around. “Let me get the table out.”

You say winking at him when he looks at you confused and he gets even more confused when you kneel before him. You look up at him, laughing internally at what he must be thinking and then you get your nice arm under the bed and pull the foldable table under it. You take it out and with a shake, you unfold it, take your seat on the bed in front of the table and tap the bed next to you. “Have a seat.”

He sits next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and he takes the container out of the bags opening them. 

After a little, you decide to finally talk about the elephant and the room and ask: “So, did you just drop by in hopes I would invite you to dinner or do you actually have a mission today, Ghost?”

“Oh, yeah, about that. I actually had two missions today.” He says pulling his mask up so he can eat. You try not to stare at the little skin showing, but you quickly notice the stubble on his jaw. Blonde. “First one, finding out we're the girl from the captain's office was. That one was easy, thankfully cause the captain was freaking out. And the second one, figuring out why she left. That one is still ongoing.”

“And if the captain was freaking out why is it you the one that's on my house?” You ask looking at your plate, curious enough to ask but not brave enough to look.

“Cause he was scared the reason you ran away, was because of him or something he did. So he didn't want to make it worse.” He answers simply, you can feel his eyes on you. He bends down a bit to be able to see your face and ask. “Is that why you ran?” You shake your head. “Then why? It looks like you had fun.” 

You turn to him with furrowed eyebrows and notice that he is looking at your neck, you remember the lovebites and quickly try to cover them with your hand. 

“It was just…” you sigh. “I know when I am no longer wanted, and rather than make it awkward by making him drive me back or having to say bye I just… got out before he woke up.” 

“Hm, I still think you should talk to him. I’m pretty sure he wouldn't agree with you with the ‘not being wanted’ thing” He says doing quotation marks with a hand and taking his phone out to send a message with the other.

“He doesn't even know my name. Neither do you.” You almost mumble. I’m just another one on the list, you think. “I think he will be just fine.”

He winces as if he was in pain and says. “You a tough one, birdie.” He cleans off the rest of his plate and stands up. “You don't know my name either and you don't see me throwing a hissy fit.”

“I'm not throwing a hissy fit.” You say rolling your eyes.

“Did you… Did you just roll your eyes at me, birdie?” He says moving the table and standing between your legs. “Now that” He says pointing at your face. “That's a brat move.”

“I'm not a brat!” You try to defend yourself standing up, but as quickly as you get on your feet, Ghost manhandles you to be laying down on your stomach. He sits on top of your ass immobilising your hips and grabs your arm putting them behind your back leaving you unable to move. “Ghost, what the fuck?!”

“Language.” He says and you feel a hard slap land on your ass cheek making you yelp. “Are you going to behave or should I teach you a lesson, birdie?”

“What? What are you talking about? Get off me.” You mumble squirming under him.

“No, I don't think I will until you learn.” He chuckles as he begins to grind against your ass. He bends down to talk to up to your ears. “You should be grateful, that I found you and not Price. Do you know what he would have done if he found out you got back, walking, alone, in the middle of the night?” Three more hard smacks land on the same cheek when he sits up. “And that alone, without talking about the fact you were missing a shirt. And didn't even say goodbye. Not a phone number, not a name, nothing.” He lands two more on the same cheek and an even harder one on the other cheek. Leaving your arse burning and you wouldn't be surprised if it bruised, but still, the most surprising thing about the situation is that you can feel your underwear sticking to your cunt.

You truly are learning about yourself these days. 

He grabs two handfuls of the meat of your arse, pushing your cheeks together as he grinds with a grunt. Then he lets go, you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt being undone and it sends anxiety up your column. He must sense it because he says: “Calm down, birdie. I'm not giving you my cock until you beg for it, and only if you deserve it. And trust me, you don't.” 

He takes his belt off, aligns your forearms and ties them together behind your back. 

“Are you going to talk to Price? You can still leave unscattered.” He asks, putting his hands beside your head and leaning in to be closer to your face.

You look back at him from over your shoulder, face still push against your mattress, and try to look offended by how easily he got you tied, immobilised and horny. “I don't know.”

He makes the sound of a buzzer, like in the contest when they answer wrong. “Not what I want to hear, birdie.”

His index finger hooks the waistband of your pyjama pants as well as your panties, right above your ass and he pulls them down slowly. You hear him whistle as he pulls them down, feeling the cold hair of the room against your skin and against your glistering cunt. “I think I'm going to start by the desert tonight.”

He lands a loud smack on your naked arse, and when you try to complain, the sound gets strangled into a moan when you feel his tongue against your puckering hole. Getting your ass eaten by the mysterious masked man was not on your plans for tonight, but you are not complaining. 

You moan against the mattress, biting the sheets to try and conceal the sounds leaving your mouth. Your consolation, is the fact that you can feel Ghost moan against your skin, the vibrations travelling up to your nape giving you goosebumps. 

He gets his hands under your hips pulling them up, leaving you completely exposed. Ass up, face down, arms tied and knees together by your pants. He pulls back for a second to admire his job, you look already ruined and it's been less than a couple of minutes. 

You await, expectant, his next move, every single thought that was on your mind about how you should push him away and stand your ground, is silenced by the feral voices of your mind scratching the walls with the need for his mouth to be back on you.

“Look at you, birdie. Such a good girl all of a sudden. You are not a brat, you just need that attitude fuck out of you, right, doll?” He asks massaging your waist with both hands. 

“Fuck you.” You mumble, and Ghost lands a slap right to your cunt making you scream and arch your back to find distance from him.

“Language, birdie!” He says chuckling, amused with the situation. “C’mon, play nice, love. Are you going to talk to Price?”

His finger starts to travel up and down your slit, collecting the juices flooding from your cunt. He teases your entrance without getting inside.

“No.” You declared, tired of being played with.

“No?” He ask genuinely surprised. “Oh, I think you will.” He lands another hard slap on your pussy, right on your clit, and position his fingers so that when you arch your back again, you fuck yourself right into his finger. A loud moan escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion.

He raises his hand up to your nape, grabs your hair in a handful and pulls lifting your head off the bed. “I wanna hear you sing, birdie.” His fingers begin to move inside and out of your cunt making you groan softly, raising in volume as his tongue finds her way back to your ass.

You can feel his drool drip down your ass to where his finger is fucking your pussy, only adding to the mess. He uses the knuckle of his middle fingers to brush against your clit making you mewl and causing him to chuckle again. He can feel you clenching around his finger, and he pulls back to ask again. “Are you going to talk to Price?”

“No, fuck, no I won't.” You scream back. And immediately you wish you didn't. Ghost draws his finger back, and remains holding your head but otherwise untouched.

“Wrong answer again, doll. C’mon, tell me what I want to hear and I'll give you what want to get. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks. “No!” You answer, and the hardest slap to date lands on your ass making you cry out in pain. “Last chance, birdie. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks again.

You bite your lip, an inner battle going inside your mind. The stubbornness in you taking the lead, not even being reasonable, just stubborn. Another hit snaps you out of it. “Shit! Fine! Whatever, I'll talk to him.” 

“Good girl, birdie.” He grumbles against your ear as his fingers start to piston in and out of your cunt, the sting of the stretch by the second finger completely buried under the waves of pleasure. He keeps whispering pure filth onto your ears, unable to hear him over the ring of your ears caused by the stimulus on your weak point.

You feel drool drip down your chin into the sheets, but you can only focus on the tight knot inside your body. It's unfair how easy it seems to be for these men to make you come undone with barely touching you, it makes you think about those mediocre ex-lovers who would put the blame on you for taking so long to cum. Fuck them, these men, Kyle, Price and Ghost had you coming in minutes without even taking off their clothes.

Ghost brushed his knuckles against your clit again, and you can only moan his name before you are gushing over his hand. He helps you ride out your orgasm and slowly draws back his fingers. 

He stands up chuckling softly, you hear him walk into the bathroom, you hear the faucet open and close and then hear him walk back.

You feel the cold wet towel between your legs and it makes you jump off the surprise. “Sorry, you spend all the warm water, doll.” He says still snickering. He drops the towel on the table, pulls your underwear and pants up, takes his belt back and lies next to you caressing your hair. “Solid, birdie?”

You shake your head. “Pretty sure I'm liquid now, Ghost” You say absent-mindedly and rub your eyes as you yawn. He may have fingered the attitude out of you, but he also fuck the energy out.

“I think it's time for me to leave, thank you for the dinner, birdie. And for the desert.” He says, smiling at you. He lands a peck on your temple and stands up. “Lock your door when I leave. And talk to Price.”

When he turns his back at you, you roll your eyes standing up as well to close the door. He turns on his heels and looks down on you. “And don't roll your eyes at me, birdie. Don't give me an attitude. Lock the door.” He says and lights a cigarette as he makes his way out of the building. 

While you're are cleaning everything, tidying your room, getting ready to get into your bed when you get a message from a contact that is just a skull emoji. 

💀: Lock the door, birdie.

That's what you get for trusting him with you phone to order food.

“So she didn't say why?” Price asks Simon as he sits in the booth at the pub.

The both of them met there, a pub close to your house, Price too anxious to wait to get back to base to find out about Ghost’s discoveries.

“Negative.” Ghost answers setting the pints down. “She did make a great point, Captain.”

“Which is?” Price ask expecting

“We don't even know her name. Well, we do because of the background check we did to find her, but any of us have asked her.” Ghost responds. “And I thought you were the less hotheaded of the team, Captain.”

Ghost shakes his head as he laughs.

“Maybe try to talk to her when you are not saving her life? Maybe she will feel less overwhelmed then.” Ghost says taking his phone out to check his messages when he notices the vibrations. “Talking about the little bird.”

🐦: I told you I locked the dor

🐦: door*

💀: Awesome

🐦: ?

🐦: Go away, Ghost

💀: What are you talking about, birdie?

🐦: Stop messing with my door, I'm trying to sleep, you weirdo.

💀: It's not me.

💀: Are you sure it's your door and not your neighbours?

🐦: what neighbour?

💀: You and the terrorist are the only tenants on the building?

🐦: STOP MESSING WITH THE DOOR 

🐦: You are giving me the deposit money if you break it.

💀: I'm not at the door.

💀: Birdie?

💀: Don't ghost me now.

💀: Not on purpose.

💀: Birdie?

Ghost knit his brows at the lack of messages and look up to Price who seems lost in thought. “Maybe we need to save her again, Price. Your heart to heart talk will have to wait.”

7 minutes.

That's all it takes for Ghost and Price to reach your building. Guns in hands as soon as they saw your apartment door busted open.

Price felt his heart sink at the possibility of your being hurt, because of him and his inability to treat you the way he should. Waking up alone didn't hurt as much, he hadn't slept that good in who knows how long, and it was all thanks to the warmth of your body pressed against his.

So now, that only now has he found this comfort, the thought of it being ripped away from him before he could mend his error, was truly heartbreaking.

The nice thing about your house being this small, is that there is not a corner that remains unchecked. And still, you are nowhere to be seen.

But your flat is a mess. The dishes are broken all over the hall and kitchen floor, the fridge is leaning against the wall obviously having been pushed, your clothes are thrown all over the place, your mattress is cut out it's inside thrown around, your clothes mixing with the rest of the mess on the floor, and your wall…

“You will pay for your actions, whore.”

Can be read on the wall, big letters occupying the whole wall.

Your TV is missing, only the metal skeleton that holds it to the wall it's on is place. And your window is busted, that's when he sees it, a chair. On your balcony, as if it was used by somebody to jump.

Price walks up to the balcony so fast, Ghost grabs his shirt unsure of the Captain's plan. “She probably jumped to the apartment next door, Captain. Let's check it.” The younger says to try and calm the Captain. He nods and they both make their way to the apartment next door.

It is just as destroyed as yours, but still, no sign of you. They make their way back to your apartment and Price sits down burying his face on his hands.

Ghost takes out his phone again and he calls you, anxious waiting for you to pick up. But you don't, instead, a silly music begins to sound from under your bed. Tranquillity floods their senses, only for it to be destroyed when the only thing they find is your phone under your bed.

“Fuckin’ hell, birdie. Where are you?” Ghost asks out loud.

THUMD

Both men whip their to the sound, and come face to face with your closet. Now, one of the things you like about your flat, is the closet. Built into the wall. With a ridiculously small space on top of it.

Both men look astonished, as a hand starts to crawl his way out of the false ceiling of the closet. You pop your head next, and when you confirm is the two men and not whoever entered your house just a couple of minutes ago, you start to bawl your eyes out.

When you heard the people force their way into your house, you automatically got yourself into the space on the false ceiling in your closet. You stayed there, contorted into yourself and used every ounce on yourself to not make a noise. 

You heard how they rampaged your little home, how they screamed, how they destroyed everything.

It was merely a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours. And when you heard them come back for a second time, you were certain they would hear the beat of your heart. Until you hear what sounded like the sweetest desert on the universe, Ghost's voice, asking where you were.

The sheer fear that just saved your life, now turned you into a sobbing mess of tears and drool as you melt onto Ghost's arms once he holds you.

You feel Price's hand rubbing your back as he kisses your shoulder shushing you.

“It's all right, darling. We are here now. You are safe. No one is going to get to you now.”

Hii! 💗

Hoped you liked the new chapter, reader collecting these men like they are pokemon hehe wish that was me

Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline

[1d1195]

Honey II

Read Honey here | ~6.2k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, pining, maybe a daddy-kink if you don't blink. There's a shitty guy, some jealous Harry (from said shitty guy as well as NIALL 😍) and some mentions of self-care 😉

Summary: You cannot flirt with my nanny. He texted Niall while Cece ate.

Someone should, Harry. By all means YOU should. But I’ll handle it if you cannot.

Harry scowled and threw his phone aside. “Sorry m’gonna kill Uncle Niall, Cece,” he told her. “But he’s stupid.”

The routine became easy. Breakfast with Harry, tummy time with Cece, cleaning during naptime, laundry at lunch time. At eleven in the morning, she sent Harry three pictures of his baby regardless of what she was doing which he didn’t respond to other than reacting with a heart to each of the pictures.

Cece loved Miss Honey. Her smile was bright when she saw her and her giggle was coming easier and easier while she played with her.

Niall is stopping by to grab something I left. He was already out. You can let him in.

Okay, thank you for the heads up.

Other than delivery drivers, people didn’t really come by. She hadn’t had friends over not that she necessarily wanted to have them over... not after her first family. From then, it was always kind of weird to have people visit someone else’s home to hang out with her. She preferred dinners or going to their houses. If Harry were to throw a party or cookout at his extravagant pool, she would invite her friends—at least that’s what she did with her previous family—but Harry didn’t seem much like a party-thrower.

“Hello?” The Irish voice sang into the house. “Miss Cece, where are you?” He called.

She smiled and brought the baby toward the front door holding her in front of her stomach. Cece giggled at the sight of Uncle Niall. “Who’s that, Cece?” She asked pressing her lips on to the top of her soft hair. “Is that Uncle Niall? Did Uncle Niall come to see you?” She kicked her feet and Niall looked like he was melting as he took her from Miss Honey. “Is it this folder?” She asked. “I found it in the garage,” she said. “It must have slipped out of his bag. When I took Cece to the store, I was going to swing by myself."

Niall was in awe. The house was clean—to be fair, it almost always was, but it was different now. Plus it smelled like the citrusy fall candle she was burning on the counter; only adding to the fresh clean feeling of his friend’s place. Whatever was cooking in the oven smelled delicious. “Do you... cook for him?” Niall asked.

She blushed. “Well, it’s mainly for me, but obviously there aren’t a ton of recipes for one person, so I always have extra,” she rationalized. “I cooked for my old family.”

Niall bounced Cece as he looked around. There was a throw blanket on the sofa adorned with leaves and it’s fall y’all patterned across it. that wasn’t there before. Along with some fall pillows. It matched the little pumpkins on the side tables and the leaf and flower centerpiece on the coffee table. Harry had decorations? “Did Harry buy those throw pillows?”

“I... I have this tendency to fall asleep on the sofa watching movies and wanted something softer than the sofa arm,” she felt weird explaining all this to Niall. “I should probably get them out of here and back in my room. Did Harry say something? He doesn’t like it?”

Harry hadn’t mentioned it. Which was insane because when Cece’s mom wanted all new living room furniture in the middle of her pregnancy, Niall wasn’t sure Harry was going to let her live at his house after all. Harry was very particular and liked things to be his way. “No, no. He’s fine. It just looks...cozy,” he said. “It’s nice he’s got a woman’s touch that he likes,” Niall said encouragingly.

Her phone vibrated on the counter and she glanced at her watch reading the message. Can you tell Niall to let go of my daughter and get his ass back here before I fire him?

She smiled sending a thumbs up in response. “I believe you’re going to be fired.”

“What a drama queen,” Niall muttered. “I love you more than Dada does,” he cooed and kissed Cece sweetly on the cheek. “You should decorate the outside, too,” Niall said as he handed the baby back to her. “Harry would like it,” he smiled. “If you have a ton of leftovers, send them for lunch with Harry tomorrow. With the way it smells, I bet it would taste delicious reheated as well... Bye Cece!” He waved and blew a kiss at her.

“Say bye Uncle Niall,” she cooed shaking her head at Harry’s best friend.  She waved Cece’s hand for her. “Bye Uncle Niall.”

*

His office door slapped open against the wall, and he looked up from his desk even though he didn’t need to.

“Niall’s here,” his secretary called. He rolled his eyes.

“You love her,” Niall gushed.

“I do not,” Harry scowled defensively at his paperwork in front of him. “Love who?”

“Your nanny obviously.”

“I absolutely do not,” he shook his head. “I am not in love with someone I employ.”

“So we’re not in love either?” Niall frowned.

“Do you have something you need, Mr. Horan?” Harry deadpanned.

Niall rolled his eyes. “Harry, she’s sweet, funny, and intelligent,” he listed. “Not to mention your house has never looked cleaner nor cozier and she can cook.”

Harry used to order out each night since he was too tired to cook when he got home. Then with Cece, it made even more sense. But now, since he was very much glued to his schedule of coming home on time for dinner so he could see Cece before bed and relieve Miss Honey of her duties for the evening.

He hadn’t anticipated her making dinner for him. In fact, he hadn’t anticipated much of anything she did for him. He thought taking care of Cece was going to be it. The cleaning and cooking was beyond what he expected.

He ignored Niall.

“And hello? She’s good with Cece.”

She was great with Cece actually. But he wasn’t going to give into Niall’s teasing. He continued looking at his computer screen ignoring all the reasons Harry thought she was perfect as well but had to ignore because he would rather die than ruin what he had with her for the sake of his daughter. There was no one better to trust Cece with—even after a month or so of her working, it was obvious. He was so sure there wasn’t anyone better. “Also, she was going in the pool when I got there, so she was in this itty, bitty bikini—” Harry’s gaze snapped to Niall and his eye twitched as he scowled again. “I was joking, but I think I’ve proven my point.”

“I’m not in love,” he grumbled. Harry didn’t love anyone beyond his baby girl, his company, and his family.

“Say it all you want. But I’m not the one that got his underwear in a twist over the thought of seeing her in a bikini when it’s not summer anymore." Harry ignored him still. "You let her decorate," he reminded him.

"We have similar tastes," Harry mumbled not wanting to let on that he didn't give two shits if the house was decorated but when he came home from work watching her sip hot apple cider on his sofa and reading a book to Cece, he wanted to move to a place where it was fall all year round.

"Are you going to let her decorate the outside of your house for Halloween?”

He was not in love. “It’s a holiday,” he reminded Niall. “I want Cece t'have a—”

“Uh-huh. Sure. It’s definitely for Cece... by the way, make sure I get the leftovers from dinner tomorrow. I already asked Miss Honey,” he said. “Here’s your folder,” he laid it on his desk and left with a wave and mischievous smile. "She found it in the garage and was going to swing by herself. Because in case you haven't noticed, she's perfect."

If there were leftovers of whatever delicious thing she had decided to cook, Harry was going to throw them in the middle of the road on his way to work just to spite him.

*

The weekend was unfortunately eventful.

Cece fussed a ton. Harry sighed when the monitor alerted him to her waking. He got up and headed to her crib where he spent several minutes rubbing her little belly as he watched her. “Y’need t’sleep, Miss Cecelia,” he smiled at her tiredly. It was nearly one in the morning, and he had been fortunate enough to have Cece sleeping soundly overall for the last couple months. But for whatever reason, her little cries woke him up today.

He checked his phone and noted there was an alert from the front door camera. He saw two people standing under the entrance. His favorite nanny and a man that he didn’t recognize.

Given the situation, this was suddenly and very much her house as much as Harry's. As evident by the pumpkin décor on the steps visible in the video as well. So she could do what she wanted. Even if that meant going on a date.

Even if that meant Harry was painfully aware of how upset that made him.

Her arms were wrapped around her stomach and Harry felt something painful ache in his stomach. She looked completely uncomfortable. The guy leaned closer toward her, forcing her to step back until she was against the side of the entryway. Harry’s blood boiled. She pressed a hand against his chest, maintaining distance between them. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the screen and briefly noted he forgot about Cece’s waking. But Cece was asleep again. Therefore, Harry was able to worry about the other woman that lived in his house. He quickly sent her a text before he kept his eyes glued to the camera. If this was some kind of flirting thing, fine. He would confront the boiling jealousy in the comfort of his own bed. But Harry had a sister, female friends, female employees and now a daughter. He knew when someone was uncomfortable.

The camera signaled someone was outside, so I checked the feed... Are you okay?

He didn't want to listen in. There was a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross. Fortunately, she pulled her phone from her pocket and read the message--clearly looking for a distraction and further fueling his worry. Without answering, she tucked her phone back in her pocket and Harry thought that he was overreacting. She was fine. He just needed to go to bed.

But then, she shook her head repeatedly, slowly.

Harry dropped his phone on Cece’s floor where it landed on the rug with a quiet thud. He took off downstairs nearly missing the last step before he was at the front door, yanking it out of the way blindingly fast. She jumped at the sudden movement in the middle of the night—even though she only saw Harry’s message seconds before. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he lied. He was very grateful to interrupt. “Cece has been awake, and I’ve tried—”

“No problem,” she rushed out not even glancing at the man. She brushed passed Harry hurriedly.

The guy blinked in surprise at her quick departure. He tried to peek behind Harry’s frame that blocked most of his view. “I’ll call—”

Harry smacked the door shut and waited for him to leave—watched him walk to the end of the driveway where he waited for an Uber for three minutes. She sighed, putting her hands on the back of her head, breathing heavily. “Harry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She began pacing behind him, but Harry’s eyes didn’t move from the end of his driveway. “He was completely fine and then I needed to Uber and—”

“I told you not t’Uber,” he scowled at the window beside the door waiting for the man to disappear.

“Well, it was one in the morning, and I don’t know how your driver situation works—”

“Then you call me,” his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be. The thought of something happening to her hurt. Hurt a lot.

She ignored him, feeling guilty but trying to explain her side of things. “My friend had left with a guy she met, and she was my ride. I didn’t even know she left,” her voice cracked. “I Uber all the time, Harry. Alone at night, I don’t care...it’s... whatever... But he was insistent. He wanted to make sure I made it home safely. Which didn’t set off any alarm bells and I pride myself on having a good gauge of that kind of thing. So, I didn’t think anything of it. I thought he was just being a gentleman. When he got out of the car and the driver took off...” she shook her head. “I’m just so sorry. I didn’t know—” Her voice cracked again, harsher this time. Then she pressed her lips into a line as she looked down. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered trying to force the tears to stay behind her lids.

The man was gone from the edge of his driveway. Harry shook his head confused how she could be apologizing for literally nothing. She didn’t do anything wrong. “What are y’apologizing for?”

“For him coming back here! I don’t bring people back to the house I’m living in for free. I would never want to put someone like that within a three-mile radius of Cece. I was just trying to get him to leave and I—” her voice choked off again.

“Love,” he said gently. “S’okay,” he promised reassuringly. “Y’can invite friends over. I wouldn’t really want him, but it sounds like we’re on the same page.”

She sniffled, breaking Harry’s heart. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

“Did he hurt you?” Harry asked. She shook her head. “I need a verbal answer, love.”

“No, he didn’t hurt me,” she whispered. Barely loud enough for him to hear.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded. “I was just trying to think of a way to get inside without him following me,” she whimpered. “He just wouldn’t shut up about how nice it would be to...” her tears started to flow. She shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.

Harry didn’t think. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed up and down her back. “S’okay,” he promised. “You’re okay,” he repeated. “You could have banged on the door or something,” he assured her.

She sniffled. “I didn’t want to wake the baby.”

He smiled softly. Of course she didn’t. “Please call the driver next time. Day or night. I should’ve told y’that,” he murmured. “It would make me feel better. And he’ll only let y’have someone else in the car with you if y’say so,” he promised.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“You’re allowed t’have a life here, love,” he promised. “Friends, dates, whatever y’want.”

“Well, I’m not dating for a while,” that was fine by Harry. Gently, she pulled from Harry’s embrace, and he felt completely cold. It wasn’t from his lack of clothes either.

She wiped her eyes. “Do y’want me to...get y’anything?” He asked.

She shook her head of the thought. “No, I’m sorry to have interrupted your sleep—”

“Don’t be. But y’didn’t. Cece was up, I was checking on her when I saw m’phone’s notification,” he explained. “But even if she wasn’t up... I wouldn’t have minded,” he promised. “Really.”

Her eyes trailed over Harry’s body. It hadn’t occurred to her that he was wearing nothing but boxers. His shoulders were broad, his arms were taut with lean muscles that didn’t bulge massively but were still beautifully sculpted. His hair was in disarray, probably from his pillow. His stomach was flat, ridged with muscles, and covered with tattoos. “I didn’t realize you had so many tattoos.”

He smirked. “Yeah, um...guilty pleasure of mine.”

Harry really shouldn’t say pleasure around her. It made her think of things that would give her immense pleasure. Like the boxers that outlined a plump dick (which wasn’t even fully hard it seemed. Jesus Christ, she wondered if she was going to get pregnant just from looking at it) and showed off his muscular thighs. She shook her head trying to keep her eyes focused on anything other than Harry’s groin area. “I um... thank you,” she whispered. “For getting me.”

“Of course, love. Any time,” he promised. “I know y’work for me and I respect your commitment and seriousness t’your job. It’s something I value in m’employees at the office too. But Niall also works with me too and he’s m’best friend and he’s very comfortable asking me t’bail him out of dicey situations. So if y’need something, y’jus’ have t’ask.”

She nodded. “Okay... thank you,” she repeated. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Miss Honey.”

*

Harry was frustrated. It was a busy time of year, so he had been staying an hour, sometimes two later than he was supposed to. He ate reheated food that she had cooked (which was still delicious) but mostly he was upset because he wasn’t getting to see Cece before bed. The pictures she sent in the afternoon and just before bed helped but didn’t make up for the real thing. He missed his daughter.

And honestly? If he was real with himself, he missed eating dinner with the pretty woman that was kind enough to make dinner in the first place. He missed watching an episode of whatever show she liked before she went for a swim in the pool and then to read in her room. Up until Harry had started staying late, she had gone for a swim every night and Harry was in awe. The pool was heated sure, but the air was cold. But she was insistent—all to get her laps in so she could work out. Now, when he got home, she was already in her room. Only coming out to say hello, give the lowdown on bedtime and making sure he knew which food was for Niall the next morning.

It seemed she wasn’t dating, so at least Harry had that. Even though he told her she could, he was glad she wasn't. It wasn’t right or fair of him to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. The few times he saw her out in the pool in a bathing suit (that was not an itty-bitty bikini like Niall had described) he felt possessive. If she had an itty-bitty bikini, Harry thought he might lose his mind--the pretty one piece with a cutout created by a crisscrossing bow around her middle was tantalizing enough. He didn’t let his gaze linger for long (he didn’t want to be creepy) but he thought back to the guy that followed her home and terrified her. No one deserved her kindness. No one deserved to see her vulnerable and alone in anything less than what she wanted. She made Cece feel safe. She made Harry feel safe.

“Why don’t you go home?” Niall suggested. “You’ve been staying late all week, and I know you miss Cece. Take a half day, go spend some time with your daughter. Or even Miss Honey,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Harry shook his head. “I already took a ton of time off—”

“For a very good reason! Harry,” Niall sighed. “You have an adorable baby daughter. She’s only going to be little for so long. You need to enjoy it.”

With that thought, Harry couldn’t get out of his office fast enough. He entered the house using the keycode. It didn’t even faze her. If someone used the code, then she assumed it was someone who was allowed to be there. But also, the sound of the vacuum cleaner was humming and creating more noise than she could have heard with the door opening and closing. But she must have sensed it because she glanced over her shoulder and smiled finishing the spot she was working on. Harry could make out the wrap around her body while she vacuumed. Wearing Cece like a body ornament. It was adorable. “I could hire someone for that, y’know,” he called over the droning noise.

She turned the vacuum off and turned around showing off the little babe at the same time. She kicked her feet. Harry thought his heartstrings were going to snap with how much love flooded him. Someone that loved him so unconditionally. It felt like he didn’t deserve it.

“You’re home early,” she smiled and loosened the wrap around her and pulled the headphones off her little head to keep her ears safe from the vacuum sound. “Is Dada home to play, Cece?” She smiled excitedly. “Is Dada here to play?” She repeated, passing her to Harry. Cece immediately settled into his embrace, making his heart hurt. Niall was right, this was well worth it.

“I was just going to do laundry,” she said. “Do you want anything to eat?” She asked.

“I have people who could do your laundry,” he told her, his lips attached to the crown of Cece’s head. “And y’don’t need t’do my laundry either,” he frowned. “Or Cece’s.”

“Yes, but you are saving money by letting me do it. I’m all about coupons. I’m like a BOGO sale, you know? For a business owner, you don’t see a good deal when presented.”

He rolled his eyes. Niall listed a lot of great qualities about her. But he didn’t list how stubborn she was. Especially when it came to things like using the driver or doing his laundry. Harry wanted to shake her sometimes.

“Niall said you have a business trip next weekend?”

His eyes snapped to meet hers. “You talk to Niall?” Like regularly? Casually?

He was so going to fire him.

“Yes,” she smiled and then laughed to herself, a private joke Harry wasn't privy to.

“What?”

“It’s nothing. Niall’s just funny.”

Harry was going to kill him. Then fire him.

“Oh?”

“He just he tells me he’s going to marry me if I keep making such good food for him to eat.”

So fired.

“Speaking of,” she continued while Harry let that linger in silence. “Little miss needs to eat,” she said. “I can do it if you want—”

“Thank you,” he was sincerely appreciative. “But I have it covered,” he smiled. “You can take the rest of the afternoon to yourself if you’d like.”

She smiled. “That would be great. I just have a few more things to do but I’ve been dying to go to the bookstore. They’re having a sale on all paperbacks,” her eyes glowed.

Harry smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

“Just shout if you need something.”

Harry went to the kitchen, took the bottle that was warmed and ready on the counter (she must have just put it out while she was vacuuming nearby).

You cannot flirt with my nanny. He texted Niall while Cece drank from her bottle.

Someone should, Harry. By all means YOU should. But I’ll handle it if you cannot.

Harry scowled and threw his phone aside at the pretty fall throw pillows. “Sorry m’gonna kill Uncle Niall, Cece,” he told her. “But he’s stupid.”

*

Harry often found himself defaulting to her and all her knowledge. She had a background in psychology, as that was what she studied in college—a concentration in child development. All of which he knew from her application. Harry was well educated, but he would never feign to have more knowledge that he didn’t have.

Which is why when Cece continued to fuss and fuss more than she had since she’d been born, Harry didn’t know what to do.

“Love?” He knocked on the door. It was two in the morning, and she was obviously well off the clock. Harry battled for several minutes trying to decide if it was worth it. He didn't want to bother her, but frankly, he was exhausted. But she answered anyway, hurriedly.

She was wearing a pair of leggings and a blue tank top. One that was thin and made Harry’s stomach ache with desire. Something lower ached with desire too. But fortunately, he had enough foresight to put on a pair of sweats before waking her. She rubbed her eye looking like a toddler coming to their parents’ bedroom. Her hair tie had fallen from her braid letting the strands fall haphazardly out of the twist.

He thought about kissing her. God he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be alone in the middle of the night with her.

Gratefully, Cece called out. Reminding him of why he had woken her up in the first place.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can you check on her? She’s so fussy. I don’t know if m’doing something wrong?” It killed him that the baby was fussing. He hated to wake her almost as much. However, she didn’t even bat an eye to it and hurried to Cece’s room. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Don’t be,” she yawned. “I was... actually reading,” she smiled. “I shouldn’t be, but I can’t put the book down.”

How was that so hot sounding? It shouldn’t have been. He had watched her read on the couch a hundred times. But it was hot. So hot he was glad there was an extra layer to hide how it made him feel.

Harry was glad he was going away for the weekend. He needed to clear his head of the pretty girl that was invading his every thought when he had no right to think of her that way. “Oh yeah, Miss Cece just wants to party, huh, sweet girl?” She smiled and pulled her from the crib and hummed. “Daddy has to work early tomorrow, Cece. can have our own party tomorrow, okay? But Daddy’s got to sleep,” she whispered. “I know you’re a party girl,” she cooed. “But you can’t party when you’re sleepy,” she reminded her.

Harry was not thinking of it like that but the way she said Daddy (twice) made his chest ache with something he wasn’t used to feeling. It probably didn’t help that her tank top did little to hide two hardened, protruding bumps on her chest that made Harry want to lick his lips (and her). He was going to turn the heat up before bed because it must have been chilly.

Harry tried to keep his gaze PG, but she was so pretty, he was thanking himself for the moment of clarity he had that made him put on pants because he wouldn’t be able to hide the way he felt about seeing her sleepy and beautiful.

Fuck Niall and his stupid observations. He is so fired when I get back from my trip.

After a few more hums and coos, Cece fell back to sleep. She kissed her hair and gently laid her back in the crib. “She’s almost four months, of course—she might be hitting a little sleep regression. It’s perfectly normal. I’ll do some research and see what I can do to help alleviate—”

“Thank you,” he felt exhausted. Sleep deprived and sad about leaving—even if it was just for the weekend. “Seriously. Thank you.”

She smiled. “Of course, Harry. That’s what I’m here for. Probably a good time to stop my book too,” she reached out and squeezed his arm. “Get some sleep. I’ll have breakfast in the morning before you fly out,” she promised.

“I didn't mean t'interrupt your book,” he said softly. “Y'don’t have t'get up earlier, she can lay in bed for a bit,” he offered.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’ll just nap when she naps,” she shrugged. "Cece will want to see you before you leave," she smiled so effortlessly. Like Cece would really know if he was gone. But the way she said it made him believe it. She squeezed Harry's forearm. “Goodnight, Harry,” she said sweetly.

*

Harry was staring at Cece like she was going to disappear while he fed her. She gently pushed the cup of tea she made him (with three sugars) in front of him. “I haven’t left her once for this long,” Harry reminded her.

“I know,” she frowned. “She’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“I know.”

“Really, Harry. I won’t let anything happen to her. I love her beyond belief,” she promised.

But Harry felt something creep into his stomach. Something that felt like an overwhelming urge to kiss her. A way that had him aching to make Cece a sibling and he thought that maybe he could shift the real estate in his heart that was reserved for his company and open it for someone else. He shook his head as if a bug had flown in his eye. Ridding himself of the unrealistic thought that was wriggling it's way into ever inch of his mind.

No, he didn’t love her.

That would be ridiculous.

It took her two weeks to figure out what Harry liked to eat for breakfast most. As stubborn as Harry was, she was more so. Every day she made something new: omelets, waffles, French toast, everything he could think of, she tried. But when she told him she was going to make crepes, he stopped her and told her: just scrambled eggs and toast.

So, she made him scrambled eggs, toast, and sliced up some avocado on the side. “Thank you, love. Y'really didn’t need to.”

“I have it on good authority you rarely eat until like two in the afternoon if I don’t feed you,” she smiled. “Happy to help,” she promised. Because that’s what she did. Helped and helped and helped.

“Why don’t y’tell your friend m’going t’fire him if y’don’t stop talking t’him.”

She laughed and Harry enjoyed the sound more than he thought possible. “Niall?! Shouldn’t you fire me?”

He shook his head. “No way, love. You’re the best there is for Cece, you’re stuck here,” he smirked. Her heart fluttered and she realized she hadn’t spoken as Harry glanced at her. He cleared his throat. “I mean... as long as you like it here,” he attempted to recover (poorly).

“I love it here,” she nodded excitedly. That beautiful smile that Harry had honed in on during her interview spread across her beautiful face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you,” he smiled. Genuinely.

It took every ounce of Harry’s shaky control to keep himself from saying he would miss her too, while he was gone. Maybe as much as he would miss Cece.

*

It was only a two-night stay. But the first night was hardest. He called as soon as his last meeting finished. He watched her play with Cece through the video call. When her phone died, it took five minutes for her to get rebooted. She grabbed her laptop to continue the call and set it up on the floor for Harry to see Cece during her tummy time.

Cece didn’t seem to notice much that Harry was on the computer screen. In fact, she didn’t pay much attention to either of them while they chatted at all. Even when Cece fell asleep, he found himself asking her all kinds of questions about school and work. How she decided to become a nanny and the like. He asked about her family and if she missed them. Her family was still hours and hours away from her, so he was confused as to why she wouldn’t move with the previous family she nannied for.

“Truthfully?” She sighed. “I love this coast so much,” she smiled fondly. “I grew up here and I went to school here. I loved my nanny family, but there’s just something about it here,” she explained. “My family kind of... they don't..." she sighed. "They don't visit much and I think they would come up to visit even less if I lived across the country. I adore my family. They mean so much to me. It would have been hard to be even further away from them.”

Harry wanted to hold her and never let go. This woman loved hard. Harder than anyone he knew.

Eventually, when it was so much later than it should have been to be chatting on the phone with someone he was employing to take care of his daughter, without talking about said daughter, Harry said goodnight and got ready for bed. As he brushed his teeth, he opened his text messages.

Niall...

Yes, Harry? It’s eleven and I’m in bed.

... she’s perfect.

Who Cece?

...

No shit, Harry. You’re an idiot.

When Harry closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but think of her.

*

When Harry returned home, he rushed through the door, dropping his bags and hurrying to the living room. Harry was on the floor beside the coffee table where he showered Cece in kisses all over her little face. The only pause he had was looking at the lovely girl giggling on the couch at their reunion. “Ugh, Cece, you’re making me jealous! I wish someone would be that happy to see me when they get home,” she giggled.

But Harry couldn’t let her think that for a moment longer. He crossed the room, pulled the book from her hands and straddled her, locking her in place. He cupped her face before she could question anything and kissed her. Kissed her long and hard. Eventually he nestled his hips between her thighs. “I like you so much. I’m so happy t’see you when I get home,” he groaned peppering her face and skin with more kisses. “I trust you with everything. You have my whole world most of the day. And... when I get home m’so happy t'see Cece. But love, m’thrilled t'see you as well”

“Harry,” she whispered. “She’s right there."

“She's not looking,” his voice was husky as he pulled on the neck of the blue tank top that stared in all his dreams. He tugged it down her chest a bit hoping to see those pretty, hardened—

The phone call waking him up for the day put him nearly in a cold sweat. “Ugh,” he moaned reaching blindly for the nightstand for the phone. He pulled the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He grumbled.

“Hello, Mr. Styles this is your wake-up cal—”

He smacked the phone back into the receiver and begged for the dream to come back before it went away. What was underneath that tank top? He glanced at the clock. If he fucked his hand, he wouldn’t have time to shave. That wasn’t very business owner of him. Or maybe it was. He was CEO, the meetings wouldn’t start without him.

“Fuck it,” he muttered and wrapped his hand around his hard dick. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but he pretended he knew what was hiding beneath the thin tank top of the woman who lived in his house.

*

The weather fucked him royally. He was supposed to be home that evening. Supposed to be eating dinner with his little baby and the pretty nanny. It felt completely unfair that the weather had made it so he would be stuck in a stupid airport, and he would have to go directly to work in the morning.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she promised. “Maybe you can take the day off later in the week,” she suggested. “Actually... I was going to ask you if it was possible for you to do that anyway, so maybe this works out. Or maybe your mom—” He knew she was trying to distract him. Which he was grateful for but he was still so frustrated.

"What do y'need?" He asked, his voice stiff. He didn't mean for it to be. He was just upset.

She cleared her throat. “I just have some appointments I’ve been rescheduling over and over trying to find a day that's best for them. I don’t want to make you take the day off, but I know you’ve been nervous about your trip. I’ve been waiting—”

“Of course,” he said hurriedly. “Which day?”

“Wednesday, if possible. If not I can reschedule again.”

“Sure,” he’d take the whole week off if she asked. Cece time and helping the perfect angel? She didn’t need to say anything else.

“Thank you, Harry," the gratitude in her voice made him ache.

“You’ve worked nonstop for almost two months, love. Y’do more than I ever expected. S’least I could do. Plus, staying home with m’daughter isn’t a bad thing.”

She smiled. “She misses you,” she promised. Harry was pretty sure Cece wouldn’t know if he was away or not; work or overnight stay irrelevant. But it was nice she was saying it for his benefit. “She does, I swear,” she continued, somehow understanding his silence. ��Especially at bedtime and when she wakes up. Little Miss doesn’t sleep well without you here,” she cooed. Harry imagined her holding the baby on his couch looking utterly comfortable and natural.

“Well tell her I miss her, love her, and kiss her for me too.”

She pressed a bunch of kisses to her skin loud enough for Harry to hear and that soft little giggle as well. Harry smiled, feeling marginally better about his cancelled flight. “See you tomorrow, love.”

“Can you say, bye bye Daddy,” she whispered. “Come on you can do it,” she encouraged. It was much too early and of course she knew that, but Harry loved that she tried anyway.

He wanted to tell Cece to give her a kiss from him as well.

--

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[hedgehog-moss]

Ant lovers, this is not the post for you, I'm sorry.

I have a big anthill in the worst location, between my house and the greenhouse, so that the ants are invading me on two different fronts! Over the past two months or so I've tried a lot of methods to make the ants feel unwelcome, from the humane Earth Mother approach to more aggressive ones, but nothing worked. Flooding them with water. Then boiling water. Dish soap. Vinegar. Diatomaceous earth, which usually solves just about every problem. The ants did not care. I tried asking, then suggesting, then bargaining, then insisting, then threatening, then

Sorry, ants. You should have taken my threats seriously.

I meant to wait until everything was fully consumed before extinguishing the fire, but then I realised I was out of dog food (when you buy one of these 20kg bags of kibble you always feel like it'll never run out and then it does in the most unexpected and untimely manner, every time). I had time to pop by the store before it closed, and by this point the fire was just a few embers left at the bottom of the tragic moon crater that used to be a magnificent ant palace. You can see my chickens keeping an eye on it from above:

I fully trust my chickens but still, before I left I went to tell the carpenter working in my barn today that I've been burning an anthill, the fire is almost out but could he glance out the window every now and then while I'm in town, and maybe go and throw a bucket of water if he sees my house engulfed in flames? I'm just going on a quick, half-hour errand.

He agreed, so I left.

I ran into the librarian at the grocery shop, who of course invited me over for a cup of tea. It's genuinely impossible to say no to such offers—I mean, you say no and then you end up at the librarian's house having tea anyway. You'd think the possibility of my house and llamas going up in flames if I don't go home to monitor the embers would be a foolproof excuse to get out of a tea invitation, but there are no excuses. The librarian wanted me to taste the giant cookie she baked and she wanted to talk about something stupid our president said or did recently and I had no choice but to follow her.

But it's okay, the carpenter and the hens are on top of the situation!

Still, I felt antsy (sorry) as I sat in the librarian's kitchen and watched her feed Pandolf cookie crumbs. (She had some crumbs set aside for her own dog, but her dog is tiny and scared of Pandolf so she remained at the other end of the kitchen, intensely interested in the unattainable cookie crumbs, mentally willing Pandolf to disappear from her kitchen, vibrating with despair, the picture of anguish.)

I tried to use Pandolf as a pretext to cut my visit short, but I had zero cooperation from my traitor dog. "We've been gone a while, he probably needs to pee!"

The librarian asked me about the carpentry stuff going on in my barn right now and I didn't want to start a whole new conversation which would inevitably lead to half a dozen anecdotes about construction work, when I'd already had such trouble wrapping up the let's-trash-talk-Macron conversation (it's not that I don't want to trash talk Macron. But my house was burning, maybe.)

I tried to point out again that my house was probably ashes by now and the librarian said serenely, "Well, your carpenter will feel obligated to hurry up and finish the job much faster if you have no house anymore and must move into the barn."

I agreed that there's an upside to everything, but still. I had to go.

Just as I was leaving the librarian's house, I saw the carpenter's car entering town. I waved at him and he stopped and opened the window and told me everything was going well, and I said, "And the fire? It must be out by now."

"What fire?"

He had absolutely not checked the fire. (He was standing next to a noisy machine when I made my request so it's possible he didn't hear me well and figured I was checking on his work and just went "Yeah, all good!") (I'm trying to be fair)

And yes, okay, it was just a few embers at the bottom of a pit with heavy, wet winter earth all around, but I'm a pessimist so I threw Pandolf into my car and drove home at full speed. For some reason what I pictured during this quick, worried drive home was ant payback. A long line of determined ants stretching from their ravaged anthill to my house, each one of them carrying a tiny burning twig. I don't think two chickens would be enough to suppress that.

When I reached my dirt road, I couldn't see my house from afar but could see a plume of smoke in the middle of the woods. It looked pretty small, but still, I was relieved when I got closer and found that the smoke rose from the exact location of the anthill and nowhere else.

I'd taken precautions, like wetting the earth around the pit and choosing a day when some rain was expected in the evening, but a lot of forces conspired to ensure the embers were left unattended, from a forgetful (or confused) carpenter to Pandolf's love of cookie crumbs and the librarian's inescapable friendliness. (She whatsapped me to ask if my house was on fire and I said (jokingly) no, but no thanks to you!! And she was a bit contrite and said, it's Macron :( we spent too long on this topic... And I said no I know, of course I blame Macron and she sent me a handshake emoji)

The ants were not in an avenging mood btw, they were teeming around the crater looking quite defeated, it made me sad. (But I hope they're defeated.) I didn't throw my bucket of water over it straight away because I was a bit fascinated by the inside of the anthill, from up close it looked like the Mines of Moria.

I crouched down next to the ants and we wordlessly watched the last embers slowly die as night fell over the pasture. It was very atmospheric until Pirlouit started braying with absolute fury because it was almost dark and his evening hay was still nowhere to be seen.

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 1. tags: dubcon

-

You duck behind a stack of boxes when you hear Johnny come whistling into the warehouse.

He shouts your name out somewhere off on the other side of the warehouse, voice echoing through the building. You keep absolutely still, fingers clamped around the clipboard that’s pressed close to your chest. Even your breathing slows, open-mouthed so as to keep it almost soundless. It’s strategic. You’ve gotten good at making yourself invisible back here, practically melting into the stack of boxes. 

A minute or two goes by with repeated calls of your name, echoing from different parts of the warehouse like Johnny’s making the rounds. Searching for you. He’s probably been looking around the store for ages, with his track record. Someone must have let it slip that you were assigned to inventory today instead of being out on the floor. 

You only let out a sigh when it’s been long enough that any reasonable person might have given up on trying to find you in the loading dock.

“Hiding from someone?” a deep voice asks from behind you.

Your gut all but self-ejects. When you turn around, he’s standing there in the same bright blue shirt that you also wear. His is stretched tight across his chest though, like it’s a size too small. You wonder sometimes if it’s on purpose. It’s hard not to let your eyes wander, but by now you’ve trained yourself to keep your eyes level when speaking to Johnny. 

“Nope,” you squeak. “Just…you know…counting. Counting boxes and…stacks.”

He laughs, loud enough to make you startle. It’s far too enthusiastic, like you told a particularly funny joke instead of stumbling over your words and you still don’t actually know if he finds you funny or not. 

“Cool,” Johnny says, taking a step closer to you. The clipboard doesn’t feel sufficient enough to put any real distance between the two of you. “Thought I could maybe come hang out with ye back here. Dinnae want ye to feel lonely.”

“Nope, not lonely at all. Totally peachy. Actually glad I could catch a break from…everyone.” You take a step back.

He follows you, another step forward. “Aye, dinnae worry, I get what ye mean. Some of the others—” he whistles, “—right buggers. Glad to catch a break myself as well.”

A bead of sweat rolls down the back of your neck. “Aren’t you supposed to be…out in the front? I, uh, don’t want you to get in trouble with Jeff—”

“Ah, Jeff’s fine, kitty, dinnae worry about me,” Johnny coos, sounding pleased as punch. He takes you at face value instead of reading into the set of your jaw and the way you keep inching away from him as he gets closer to you, convinced that you genuinely in your heart care about whether he gets written up or not. “They fuckin’ love me, ye ken? Think he wants ta take me out for lunch tomorrow, but told him I’d only go if he invited ye as well.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” you whisper instead of screaming. You’re doing that a lot these days. Talking through the scream bubbling behind your front teeth. 

“Would ye want ta then?” he asks, suddenly in your face, three quick steps bridging the gap between you in barely a second, hardly enough time for you to blink. You blink and it’s just Johnny, in startling definition. Thick eyebrows and scar across his chin, the bridge of his nose perfect like he’s never broken it before. “Grab some lunch with me?”

“I, uh…I brought my lunch from home.”

“It’s a’right, I’ll buy it for ye, hen. Dinnae need ta waste your money.” Sometimes when he talks to you, he gets like this, fervent and almost desperate. He seems only half aware of it. “Ye like that mediterranean place nearby, right? Seen ye go there once or twice; wanted ta tag along, but dinnae want ta alarm ye.”

“You saw me go there?” you repeat. 

“Aye, happened ta glance out the window when ye were on your lunch break. Back before management changed my break time. Cheers for that as well because it was really startin’ ta bother me, ye ken? Not being able ta eat with my favourite coworker.” 

You never know how to respond when Johnny lets on a bit too much about how he feels about you. Sometimes he slips up and it comes rushing out, a big spool of thread unwinding in front of you.  

“Yeah, well…I don’t know about today but maybe…” you say, trailing off. There’s a danger in just brushing him off, you feel. 

“Tomorrow then,” he decides, grin still splitting his face. “I’m no’ on the schedule, but I can drop by at your lunch break and go with ye. How’s that sound?”

“Well, you know…it sounds…” He’s close enough now that if you lean forward, you’ll faceplant in between his pecs. Despite everything, you have to slightly fight the urge. Sometimes you think it’d be easier if he weren’t so absurdly gorgeous. It doesn’t make any of his actions okay, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour just because he’s pretty, yet still he pulls you in somehow, magnetic. “It sounds—you know, actually, I think Jeff wanted to talk to me about something, so if you don’t mind—”

Johnny tries to say something, but you manage to duck around him and scurry off, disappearing into the stacks of boxes before pressing forward until you burst out the main doors out of the warehouse. It leads to a hall that goes towards the store, but you haul it to the women’s washroom instead. The one place he can’t follow you inside. 

In the washroom, you can finally breathe. Resting your hands on either side of the sink, you look into the mirror where haggard eyes with deep circles underneath stare back at you. 

You flinch when one of the toilets flush and the stall door opens, another coworker stepping out. 

“Did I hear Johnny outside?” she asks, taking the sink beside you to wash her hands. You nod, still tongue tied. “He really follows you everywhere, huh?”

For a second, your shoulders relax. “God, I know, he’s always just hovering—”

She cuts you off, sighing dreamily. “You’re so lucky. He’s so hot, it’s unreal. I can’t believe he works here, like that’s insane. I’d kill to have him as obsessed with me as he is with you.”

“He’s—he’s not into me, he’s just…you know, he just hovers.”

The water shuts off. Your coworker shoots you a dubious look, almost mocking. “Yeah, alright. Sure. Not into you. Not like he hangs off your every word. You don’t have to be humble—we’re already jealous. It’s like rubbing it in when you pretend like it’s totally normal.”

You slump, defeated, when she leaves without drying her hands. It’s moot to try and commiserate with anyone. They don’t see him the way you do, not for who he is. Your coworkers love Johnny; you’ve seen someone genuinely fistpump after being scheduled with him. 

They don’t see any of the weird shit though. They don’t see the way he insists on walking you to your car well into the evening after a closing shift together. They don’t notice the way Johnny laughs a little too hard and with too much vigour when someone calls him your shadow, his eyes just a little too bright and fervent. 

They’re never around to see him ask if you want to sit on his lap while he shows you how to use the forklift in the backroom. They’ve never seen him beg management to let him take his breaks with you and doesn't let you have a moment of peace, just sits with you in the breakroom or follows you to your car when you say that you're going out for lunch. 

Sometimes you look at him and think, this guy should not be in the Appliance section of a big box store. Johnny should be on the front cover of magazines, in commercials for toothpaste, acting in Hallmark movies, or maybe hand modelling for obscenely ornate watch companies that cost the equivalent of a mortgage—not handing out free samples of sliced cheese.

That was then.

It starts like this: an overeager sales associate who butts his way to the front of the line on your first day. 

You think at first that you’re golden. It seems like a sweet deal—an easy enough job, maybe not what you went to school for, but still something to pass the time and not too backbreaking. Plus, the guy shaking your hand and chatting up a storm in front of you is making you melt inside. He’s easy on the eyes—all bright smiles, effortless charm, either just brushing or exactly six feet, and built. Broad shouldered and lean. 

Johnny’s a model employee as well—knows the handbook inside and out, and shows you the ropes on your first day along with the assistant manager giving you a tour of the store, which is helpful because there’s at least three floors that you could easily get lost on. He walks elderly customers to their cars with their bags, shows up to work early for every shift, always with a smile and a positive attitude, and you find out early on that management loves him because of his frankly incredible sales record. 

(And you get it too; you can’t imagine anyone looking into those gorgeous blue eyes and turning him down.)

He's also a spokesperson for the company in all of their internal training videos because he was hired through some “Jobs for Vets” program that they just rolled out. The guy can also stack things on a shelf like no one's business, products lined up with military precision (hence the ex-military status). 

All in all, you can’t help feeling like for once in your life, you didn’t draw the short stick. 

Then one day, you’re alone with Johnny in the breakroom early in the morning before the store has opened yet and he turns to you with a wide, boyish grin and says apropos of nothing, “Named my fleshlight after you.”

You think your brain skips a couple tracks like a record player. You rewind and replay what was just said to you. There’s no two ways about it—you must have misheard him. Of course you did because surely your coworker of two months didn’t just look you in the eyes and say with a sweet sunshine smile that he named his sex toy after you. 

He doesn’t laugh, just stands there and smiles while stirring sugar into his coffee. He takes it black. You take note of that because the brain still has to work when the mind shuts down momentarily, so you use it instead to catalogue things around the breakroom. One of the motivational posters hanging near the door is hung a bit off-centre. The fluorescent lightbulb on the far side of the room is dimmer than the others. Johnny’s eyes have a little light spot in them like the tip of an ocean wave.

“Excuse me?” you ask, dumbfounded. Your voice sounds hollow even to you.

“I named her after ye,” he repeats, not a trace of shame in his voice. “Used ta not have a name at all, but figured since I say it so much when I’m enjoyin’ her, she might as well share it with ya.” 

He stares at you after saying that, letting it hang in the air. Your brain chooses that moment to come back online and all it can do is load that image of Johnny home alone with his fleshlight, toes curled in his sheets and the muscles of his legs straining as he moans your name. All you can do is give a little awkward laugh, growing more uncomfortable by the second the longer he stares at you without blinking. 

Then, something passes over his eyes and suddenly he's back to normal, laughing and clapping you on the arm before wandering off to the men's apparel section. 

It leaves you reeling for the rest of the day, sure you imagined it. It recontextualizes a few things for you though. He’s always been on the handsy side, verging on inappropriate, but skirting just enough around the edges of it that you usually brush off Johnny’s weird behaviour. Chalk it up to annoying little brotherly tendencies. You know he has a few older sisters anyway; you figured it was just how he related to women in his environment.

Not so. 

It escalates after that initial escalation. Not that things started off on an appropriate note, but at least before you could rationalize most of his quirks.

Now it’s this: his hand on your lower back during work hours when you’re busy helping a customer and he sidles up next to you, pinkie brushing so low on your back that you worry for a second that he might slip it down the back of your pants. Lifting you up by the hips whenever you have a hard time reaching something on a shelf instead of just reaching up and grabbing it for you. A complete misuse of his height. He digs his fingers into your sides and never lets you go right away when he puts you down. 

“Aw shit, bonnie,” he coos when you complain about it hurting you. “Dinnae mean ta hurt ye. Want me to give ye a little massage in the breakroom?” 

You learn quickly that there’s no point in complaining about his behaviour to anyone. You can't complain to any of your coworkers because the second you so much as criticize his work, they bark at you to be nice to him. He's just re-acclimating to civilian life, of course he's not perfect at his job yet, they say. They defend him almost viciously; the real jealous ones even tell on you in front of him, leaving you to stand there embarrassed and on the spot until Johnny just smiles and says that it's alright. That you'll just have to teach him better. 

There’s not much you can do besides grin and bear it. You can hope one day that you'll get transferred; you don't have much hope for him being transferred. Not with how endeared he is to management.

When you finally open the door, ready to leave the bathroom and get back to work, you nearly scream when Johnny lurches off the wall across from the bathroom door where he’s been leaning. Waiting for you.

“C’mon, hen,” he says, all teeth. “Lemme walk ye back ta work.”

[earthchica]

Give In

bodyguard! terry richmond x black fem! (Singer) reader

summary: you are a rising singer in need of a bodyguard, and that is when Terry gets hired. Your first encounter didn’t go well; he was a stern jerk while you acted like a bit of a diva. Despite your disagreements, you both eventually found a way to work through your differences.

warning: angst, teasing, enemies to friends, brat behavior, insults, fluff, poetry, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub kinda, oral (f), protected rough sex, ass slaps, nicknames (baby, baby girl, beautiful)

note: so sorry for the wait! I changed the summary a bit to make it sound better. I had a lot of fun writing this. I just hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I did, haha.

-

Your singing career grew faster than you expected, taking you on an amazing journey to stardom.

However, your new rise to fame has come with pros and cons like stalking paparazzi and crazy fans.

Your manager recommended hiring a private bodyguard. You were initially hesitant, but eventually, you decided to accept the idea.

When you were introduced to Terry Richmond, you couldn't help but think he was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

However, despite his striking looks, he was a complete asshole with a cold demeanor.

For example, at a meet-and-greet photo op, Terry stood at the entrance as each fan walked through.

He patted them down and gave them a rude remark and an intimidating stare.

“Could you please relax your face a bit? And why are you patting them down like airport security? You need to chill; you're scaring all my fans,” You expressed.

"Brenda, where did you find this clown?" You asked your manager, and she tried to reason with you, but you didn't listen.

Terry glanced at you blankly and said, "I'm just doing my job; it's protocol, ma’am,"

“Fucking protocol, this fucking protocol that is it protocol to be an asshole…and what did I tell you about calling me, ma’am? You know, you’re older than me, right?” You asked, and he didn’t respond.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms while patiently waiting for the next fan.

Brenda nudged him on the shoulder and whispered something to him you couldn't hear.

"Look, lady, I'll do my best to appear less intimidating, but I will not tolerate your diva behavior. I'm here to protect you, and protecting your life is serious, which means adhering to protocol. Do you understand?" Terry asked in a softer but still dominant tone.

"I understand, but you need to understand that you are working for me; you can stay on your "protocol shit" but by my rules. Okay," You replied.

“Brenda… I’m sorry, but I can’t work with this,” Terry said, looking at her with frustration, which caused you to look shocked.

"Look at you…running…I thought you were a tough guy, just a clown," You yelled teasing him as he walked out of the room, and Brenda ran after him.

As you talked to your assistant, Chole, Terry, and Brenda walked back into the room. They must have had a talk.

"I apologize for my behavior, miss. I will cooperate with you, but only if you do the same." Terry clenches his jaw, and you smirk, noticing that it probably hurts his ego to say that.

"You know what…It's cool. And fine, I will cooperate," You said, clearing your throat, and oddly feeling slightly aroused.

As the days passed, you noticed subtle changes in Terry's behavior. He started engaging in small talk, asking about your day, and even cracking a joke here and there.

You tried to be less of a bitch and more nice and playful with him. He was still professional but more easy to talk to than before.

Walking together one evening, you paused in front of a quaint little bookstore.

The window display featured a collection of classic novels, their covers slightly worn, as if inviting readers to delve into their pages.

You glanced at Terry, who gave a slight nod of approval, and you both stepped inside.

There weren’t many people inside, thankfully. The smell of old books and polished wood enveloped you, creating a cozy atmosphere.

You wandered through the aisles, your fingers occasionally brushing against the books.

Terry followed at a respectful distance, his eyes still watchful but softer for you.

As you reached the back of the store, you found a comfy armchair tucked away in a corner.

With a contented sigh, you sank into it.

Terry stood nearby, glancing around at the shelves, and you noticed his gaze lingering on a book of poetry.

You pointed it out with a smile. "See something you like, Terry?" You asked curiously in a playful tone.

"Uh," He hesitated momentarily, then picked up the book, flipping through its pages with a surprising gentleness.

"Yeah…I used to read a bit of poetry," He admitted quietly. "It’s been a while."

You nodded, understanding. "Well, maybe today’s the day to start again," You suggested, feeling warm.

“Maybe!”

“Can I ask you what your favorite poem is?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Terry paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "There's one by Langston Hughes that I always liked," He said, voice softening.

“What is it?”

“Uh…The Dream Keeper.' It's about dreams, how precious they are, and how they must be protected and cherished."

You smiled, touched by his choice. "That's a beautiful one. Wow, I wouldn't have thought you would be a guy into poetry."

"Well… that's your problem. You don't know nothing by me," Terry said, a rare, full smile breaking through his usually composed exterior, which fluttered your heart.

"You right…maybe…I should get to know you more on a deeper level." You flirted playfully, looking into his pretty eyes intensely

"How about you? What's your favorite poem?" Terry asked, ultimately shifting the subject.

He was good at that; change the topic whenever you asked about getting to know him.

Terry comes over with the book in his hand and sits next to you. You think for a moment.

"I think I'd have to say 'Phenomenal Woman' by Maya Angelou," You replied as your eyes lit up.

"It's such an empowering piece, full of strength and grace," you continued.

Terry nodded thoughtfully, his fingers gently gliding over the pages of the poetry book.

"Angelou's words have a way of striking right at the heart," He agreed, genuinely interested in the discussion.

“You are a Phenomenal Woman,” He mumbled in a low tone, hoping you didn’t hear him, but you did.

You smirked. “You think so?

“Damn it! nothing gets past you, huh?” He chuckles softly; his little chuckle is music to your ears.

“Do you mean it?” You asked, looking at him, fluttering your eyelashes, waiting for him to respond.

His expression changed from gentle to serious, and Terry stood, stretching a little.

“Let me know when you’ve finished,” He said, glancing over his shoulder as he prepared to walk away, a hint of cold in his voice.

"Wait," You said, stopping him, and grabbing the poetry book from his hand before heading to the front cash register.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his brow furrowed in confusion as he trotted closely behind you.

“I’m getting this for you,” You replied, smiling, handing the book to the cashier.

"As a thank you for cooperating with my attitude. I know it's your job to protect me, and you want to do your job right, but who says we can’t be friends, right?" You added with a smile.

"You didn't have to do that," He said, looking surprised, but a hint of gratitude shone in his light eyes.

"Well, I wanted to," You said simply. Both of you waited for the car inside, and soon, Terry guided you out of the bookstore, shielding you from the paparazzi.

You shivered slightly when you felt his hand on your lower back. The two of you managed to get into the car.

The car ride was quiet, filled with the soft hum of the music and the occasional rustle of paper as Terry thumbed through his new book.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, noticing how his expression softened as he read.

Seeing this side of him was amazing, a reminder that maybe you could get him to open up a little bit.

"Thank you," Terry said suddenly, breaking the silence. "For the book."

You smiled, touched by his sincerity. "Of course, Terry."

He simply nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to the pages of his book.

As he immersed himself in the book, you couldn't help but admire his caramel-brown skin tone emanated a warm glow under the sun shining from the window, highlighting his essence.

You watched his mesmerizing blend of greyish-blue or perhaps hazel-green eyes, depending on the day, move back and forth through the words.

“You know, it’s not nice to stare,” Terry remarked playfully, glancing up from his book.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he offered you a warm, infectious smile—the kind that lingered in your thoughts long after you had seen it.

You looked away, trying to suppress a smile; this man was going to be the death of you if you didn't do something about it.

As months passed, Terry finally began to share his life before becoming a bodyguard. The more you learn about him, the deeper your feelings for him become.

You now consider him a friend. In public, Terry maintained a professional bodyguard demeanor.

In private, he was like a big teddy bear you couldn’t help but want to embrace.

Although spending almost every day together, there was still a boundary he wouldn’t cross with you, and you wanted him to cross it so bad.

Your first global tour was a complete success. You traveled worldwide, singing and meeting your fans; it was a dream come true.

It was around eight at night, and you found yourself alone in your hotel room, wearing pajamas and waiting for room service.

Out of nowhere, a firm knock echoes through the quiet room. You pause, glancing toward the door, and call out to see who it is.

A familiar voice responds—it’s Terry. You invited him in, and he entered with the room service server.

His reassuring presence stood tall as he watched the server set everything on the table before dismissing them.

"Are you hungry?" You asked, your voice slightly hoarse from the last evening's performance.

Terry caught your gaze, his eyes sparkling with that familiar glimmer.

"No, I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure you got your food," He replied, his tone sweet and sincere.

"Come on, are you sure? There’s plenty to share, Terry," You said, motioning toward the spread of food.

"I guess, maybe just a little," He agreed, pulling up a chair beside you.

You both began to eat in a lovely, comfortable silence, but Terry broke it by asking you something.

"I never really asked you this but how are you managing and feeling all of this?" Terry asked, gesturing to this rising fame.

You shrugged, a small smile gracing your lips. "It's been exciting, anxious. I have my moments, you know that,"

"Oh, I know…you still do, bratty attitude and everything," he said teasingly, but stating facts, you playfully hit him on the arm.

"But I'm trying to meditate and stay grounded, surrounding myself with trustworthy people like you and Brenda."

He nodded, a warm grin spreading across his face. "I'm glad to hear that."

"You're doing an incredible job. It's not easy being in the spotlight all the time." He added, his simple yet heartfelt words warmed your heart.

"Thank you, Terry. That truly means a lot," You replied softly, and he gave you a nod with a smile.

After eating, you and Terry began watching a movie in bed, and you unexpectedly fell asleep.

Your head fell on his shoulder, and you began cuddling against him.

Terry removed you from his arm, got out of the bed, and reluctantly prepared to leave, but you stopped him.

"Where are you goin', T?" You whined sleepily, holding his arm tenderly.

"I should let you get some rest," He said, a touch of remorse in his voice.

“No….wait..,” You said, letting go of his arm and clumsily getting out of bed.

You almost stumbled, but he caught you. You and Terry shared an intense gaze before your eyes shifted to his lips.

You leaned in, lust swirling in the air between you. Just as your lips were about to meet.

Terry stopped you and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression serious.

“We can’t,” Terry said, the weight of his words hanging heavily around you.

“Terry, it’s okay. Let it happen,” you said, leaning in closer again, feeling him shift, especially when he didn't push you away.

You kiss his lips softly, and he melts into the kiss, loving the warmth and sweetness of your lips.

Just as you were to rest your hands on his shoulders, a sudden shift occurs, and he gently pulls away, your eyes lingering on his back.

“Fuck, you're making this real hard for me,” He says, moving towards the couch on the other side of the room.

“Terry, don’t you feel this attraction between us? Because I do…I really like you.”

“I-i do but…it’s….”

You moved toward him, knelt before him, and placed your hands on his knees.

“Wrong,” You quietly inquired, your voice barely above a whisper, while pressing your forehead gently against his.

The warmth of your skin is connected with his, creating intimate and intense feelings.

“Because it’s unprofessional, and you work for me. Well, who fucking cares? We're attractive to each other, and we want each other. Let's just say fuck it," You expressed, grabbing his hand and placing it on your exposed wide hip.

You heard his breath hitch as Terry shook his head, trying to resist as he uttered your name, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Come on…Daddy," You whispered softly, heart racing as you just risked calling him that.

Terry tilted his head and grunted his teeth before grabbing your face with his hands and pulling you into a passionate kiss before lifting you up to straddle him.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the feel of his hands on your body and the feel of his sweet, soft lips.

A muffled moan leaves your mouth as Terry's tongue begins to dance along with yours.

He pulls away and starts kissing your jawline and your neck before opening your button-up PJ shirt roughly and your breasts popping out.

"You've been driving me crazy, you know?" He asked, squeezing them and sucking them, causing you to let out a moan.

You gazed at him with intense desire; his dirty talk and the hunger in his eyes deepened your arousal by the minute.

Terry had you stand up with him, and you both began removing each other's clothes.

His breath hitched, feeling you unbutton his pants and push them down to his feet.

"Mmmmm, I thought it was bigger, Daddy. This is disappointing, " You said playfully, aware that you were treading on dangerous ground.

You bite your lip while gently caressing his big, throbbing dick through his underwear.

He grabbed your neck roughly and said, "Oh, is it? You better watch, girl. I'll have you begging and crying for it; I'mma have to teach you a lesson. keep playing with me."

And indeed he did.

Terry smiled up between your legs. You were a hot, crying, and moaning mess who should've shut your damn mouth.

This was your third orgasm; he was working out of you, and you were so damn sensitive.

"Look at you, a fucking mess. Shouldn't have been talking all that shit." He says, plunging his tongue between your wet folds again, seeking out your most sensitive spots.

"Daddy, ahhh, I'm sorry, oh fuck right here," You cried, feeling him spread your legs further apart, slowly sliding in one, then two fingers, pumping in and out fast.

Pressure began building deep inside. "Right there, baby girl?" He asked.

"Yes, ahhh yes!" You moaned, feeling your walls start fluttering around his fingers. 

A third finger slips in, and in one thrust, your body tenses; in two thrusts, your eyes roll in the back of your head.

"Mmm fuck….I'm close, daddy," You moaned softly, gripping the bed sheets tightly while bucking your hip a little bit.

"Cum for me, baby girl." He says, lapping his tongue through your folds, and the orgasm hits you like a bus.

"That's it, such a good girl. Look at you," Terry says, placing your legs down and kissing your inner thigh.

You look at him hungrily while coming down from your high. You watched him get a condom and stroke his dick.

"How do you want me, Daddy?" "You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Terry looked at you, still stroking himself; the way he was doing it was turning you on even more.

"I want you to ride me, but reverse," He said, going to lie on his back, and you climbed on top, reversing yourself to face away from him.

He held your waist with one hand while his legs were slightly spread apart.

You grip his dick gently and slowly slide down, causing you to let out a hiss, just the tip only was just too much for you.

"What's the matter, baby girl? Too big for you?" He asked, playfully teasing you.

"No, I can handle it; I've had much bigger than this," You said, with fake confidence, which earned you an ass slap.

"Watch it, baby girl," Terry said with a growl, and you moaned, continuing to slowly slide down his big dick until he was entirely in you and stretching you out.

"Okay, good girl, you got through that; go ahead fuck yourself on it, do all the work if you can," He said, propped up with his arms behind his head, and a mischief smirk played on his lips.

Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut? You told yourself you could've had what you wanted, but Terry was punishing you for your teasing.

You bite your lip and place your hands between his legs, bouncing up and down slowly.

"Mmmm, fuck, there you go, beautiful girl," Terry groaned, giving your ass another slap; even when he's trying to teach you a lesson, he's praising you.

You adapted to his size quicker than expected, bouncing faster, but this didn't reach your wants.

You tried to keep going, but you needed him; you needed his dick, and you needed him to fuck you and take control.

"Daddy?" You cried, shifted to look back at him, and he smiled with his brow raised.

"Yes, baby girl? Is something wrong?" He asked with a bit of amusement in his tone.

"Fuck me, please. I'm sorry. I need you, I need your dick, please," You begged desperately.

"tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't know…have you learned your lesson?" Terry asked, waiting for an answer.

"Yes, I swear, yes." You nodded desperately, and tears began streaming down your face.

"Nah…I don't think you have, but Imma turn this pussy out and show you when not to play with me," Terry said dominantly, grabbing your waist and thrusting up harshly, causing you to let out a moan.

"Ahh, fuck" You moaned, placing your hands on his chest, watching his length move in and out of you.

This was what you wanted to feel him move in and out out of your pussy, skin on skin, slapping, filling the room.

Your breasts bounced every which way while you cried and moaned in great pleasure for more.

"You like that, don't you? You like me being in control and fucking the brat of you huh?" Terry asked as his hands moved to your hips, grip tighter than before.

"Yes, Daddy, ahh, just like that, ahh fuck me." You moaned, grew in volume, on the verge of being screams of ecstasy.

The pleasure that he was giving you felt so good that the knot in your stomach was exponentially reforming with every thrust.

Terry could tell from how your pussy clenched around his dick. You whimper when he pulls out, but you get excited when he says.

"Turn around. I want to see that pretty little face of yours, baby."

You turn your body, slightly shaking, and quickly, Terry grabs you to flip you on your back.

You bit your lip, watching him slide in, and start thrusting slowly but quickly, picking up the pace.

"Fuck, yes, Terry," You moaned, wrapping yourself around him, clinging to his skin and leaving scratches down his back.

He grabbed your hand and pushed it above your head, pressing his entire body weight against you.

"Fuck, you feel so good, and you look so damn beautiful; look at you, ahh fuck" Terry moans, kissing you first before pulling away to grip your waist tighter and watch your breasts bounce up and down.

You gripped his arms, letting out louder moans as he went faster, harder, and deeper than before.

"Tell me this is the best dick you've have ever had," He growled

"Ahh…this-this is the best dick I've ever had, Daddy," You cried out, making him smirk.

"You love this dick, don't you?" Terry asked, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot.

"Yes. daddy. I love it; I love it so much. Fuck, It feels so so good I'm gonna-! " You screamed, arching your back.

"Fuck, that's it. You're so fucking good, baby. Such a good girl, cum for me," He moans, kissing your lips, and without a doubt, you orgasmed fourth time tonight.

This one was gushing out of you, causing Terry to pull out and hit his dick against your sensitive pussy before continuing to thrust back in until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.

Terry pulled you into a kiss and moaned your name. You loved hearing every sound he made; he thrusted once more and spilled into the condom, falling against you.

Both of you remained there, trying to catch your breath. You stroked his back as he kissed your neck and collarbone.

Terry rolls off of you, throws the condom away, and pulls you close to cuddle.

You caressed his cheek and gazed into his eyes; words were unnecessary. There was much to figure out, but that could wait because this moment was worth it.

[taylormarieee]

Dollar bills and love Billionaire!Miguel O'Hara

🎶I'ma take her bougie ass to Rodeo and then let her pick up whatever she want. CC, Gucci, hit Bottega, whatever she want She piss me off, somehow she still get whatever she want🎶

Summary: You were bratty all day, no matter what Miguel tried to do, take you shopping, buy you food, he even bought you puppies, you were still bratty so he decided maybe fucking it out of you would do the trick.

Pairing: Husband!Billionaire!Miguel x Fem!Entrepreneur!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Dom!Miguel, sub!reader, annoyed Miguel, bratty reader, PiV sex, oral(f), rough sex, mentions of arguing, Miguel being considerate, Miguel being slightly mean, degrading kink, praise kink, pussy whipped Miggy, mentions of height difference (reader is 5'7 Miguel is a 6'9 kingggg!), established relationship(there married), kinda angst/sadness, animal awareness(please be kind to animals, there so precious and adorable, especially puppies.)

A/N: I'm in the writing mood lol, ENJOY!

Miguel was the best husband you honestly could ever ask for. He was kind and so loving and caring. He was the opposite of what you thought about him when you first saw him.

You own your own business called Size Flows. It's a business for making clothes for plus sized people. Many plus sized people don't get to have clothes like that.

They have to fit in clothes that don't define their curves and beauty properly because the clothes are made for skinnier people. So one day when you decided to throw a party for the celebration of your business being a success you didn't expect much.

Yes, you did send flyers out but you didn't think they were going to reach the higher-higher staff and people in the world. So when famous billionaires and Multi-billionaires and millionaires started showing up into your building, you were shocked,

One of those billionaires happened to be, Lord and Behold, Miguel O'Hara. You were intimidated by him for quite some time at the party. He was tall! That was a fact. He also looked annoyed and mean.

Not really engaging in a lot of conversation like the others did. I mean yeah, the party was at night but it wasn't that late and the party didn't go on for too long so people didn't start getting bored of each other in there.

Eventually you decided to make conversation with him because why not (though you did notice most people cowered and scurried away from him when walking by). So when you arrived at his feet it took about 3 looks to finally meet his eyesight.

He was staring down at you with a tight lipped smile and you looked at him with a wide, happy, inviting one. Your signature smile at most, as that's what your assistant Alexandria says.

"Hello! You must be Miguel! I've heard a lot about you and your work and I must say, I'm intrigued to know just a little at how your mind works.

Miguel had a completely different company from yours, obviously. Yours was about clothes, he built his own museum. It was about like history and about Aerodynamics. The museum was impressive and it was large. I'm talking like, really LARGE!

You honestly couldn't help yourself. You visited the museum about 13 times. A couple with your friends who were into that stuff and like twice with your family and other times with your co-workers who wanted to go on their lunch break. You introduced yourself by saying your name or at least trying to before he cut you off.

"I'm very pleased to meet you Miguel, my name is-" you start off.

"I know who you are hermosa. I've seen your face on the cameras at my museum every time you go." He says.

Your eyes widen. You were so shocked by the cameras bit you didn't even register the intimate name he gave you. 'He's in charge of the cameras. And he's seen me over and over again!?' you thought in shock.

"Your honestly probably one of my most frequent visitors besides a bunch of college boys." he says with a polite smile on his face that makes you feel the need to laugh. He chuckles and laughs with you.

"wow, so you're frequent with the cameras huh?" you ask in a playful tone. He chuckles as he takes a sip of his whiskey.

"Yea, if you say so. I like to make sure my museum is safe and the guests are happy." he responds with a seriousness in his tone.

"Well, I mean coming from number one guest, I must say... I'm extremely happy every time I see the front of the building. Just so eager to go inside."

He laughs again and for the first time, you see a twinkle in his eyes. You guys talk for the rest of the night to the point you're the only two left in the building.

He kindly walks you to your car, which you were forever grateful for and that night ended and more frequent ones with him in it began until you two finally got married.

You were more happy in your life now than you have ever been before. You have the hottest man in the world to wake up to every morning and to say goodnight to every night.

That was three years ago and now, your here dragging Miguel everywhere, looking and searching for stuff you don't need.

Miguel was pissed at you because you were being a bit bratty today. You weren't satisfied and you constantly gave him attitude and sass. He was slowly loosing his patience and his temper the more and more bratty you got.

It got to the point he yelled at you and told you to get in the car both of you arguing for a good 20 minutes on why you were being so bratty and why he was being so annoying and grumpy.

He took you to a pet store. He bought you a tiny little bedazzled blue collar and then told you, "Pick." he said just standing in front of the dog pen with a bunch of puppies running around your legs.

"w-what?" you ask quietly, some forms of your attitude gone. "Pick. One." he says sternly with his jaw clenched. You feel slight fear but get filled with excitement when you see the two puppies you've been wanting forever!

A Corgi and a Yorkshire terrier! They were the cutest puppies to you, well that's a lie, you wanted every puppy in this store but it's not that Miguel wouldn't buy them all, it's the responsibility and care you have to have for them.

The hours you work make it difficult to buy every single one. "Miggy," you start, batting your eyelashes at him, "Can I get them all?" you ask.

There were like 15 dogs in here and you wanted every single one. "mami, no. You can get 2." he negotiates. You pout and your bratty attitude comes back.

"no! I want them all! If not then how about like 8?" you argue the amount with him. He rolls his eyes, once filled with sincerity and love now filled with anger and annoyance.

He usually wasn't annoyed with you when you got like this sometimes but he had a really bad day a work and you arguing with him didn't make it any better.

"No, two. No more negotiating mama." he says as calmly as he can because the last thing he wanted was you flinching and crying at his temper and how scary he got.

He did that once and the last time he did it, you didn't utter a proper word to him face to face for a month. He made you so scared and for a second when he raised his hand you flinched.

You genuinely thought he was going to hit you. He immediately stopped raising his voice at you after that. You allow it sometimes when you're arguing but you don't raise your voice at him that much because you know his temper and his patience.

"ok, how about 4? is that ok??!" you ask with those puppy dog eyes and that cute little pout he loves to see in different circumstances if you know what I mean.

"ok mama, and that's it." You get 4 collars for their genders one pink, one red, one green, and one violet. You got a Dachshund, a Yorkshire terrier, and a French bulldog and a Shih Tzu.

-The Dachshund was a boy and you named him lucky. (he got the red collar.)

-The Shih Tzu was a girl and you named her princess. (she obvi got the pink collar)

-The French bulldog was also a girl and you named her cleo. (she got the purple collar)

-The Yorkshire terrier was the last you chose and he was a boy and you named him stripe. (the name is because he was black and had a brown stripe on his face and he obvi got the green collar)

"That'll be $1,375 sir. And would you like to donate to charity for dogs in need?" she asks with a smile on her face.

"Ok, and yes I would like to donate!" Miguel responds with a smile on his face matching hers.

"Oooo! No Miguel! Can I do it instead? Oh, please hermoso, lemme do it!" you beg you wanted to be part of that cause.

"Ok hermosa, go ahead but lemme pay for the doggy bowls and the food and all the beds and everything else ok?"

"Miguel that means i'll have to buy something! Leave the doggy bowls out, I'll buy them because you'll have to press decline." You explain to him.

"No, I'll pay some to charity and then you pay some." He says smiling glad that your attitude is over.

"If you both don't mind me asking, how much are you donating? I run the charity and I'm just curious." The lady who you now know her name to be Sam, asks.

"Oh I'm paying 500,000 dollars." Miguel says nonchalantly like it's nothing. Her mouth drops.

"And i'm paying 600,000." I add with a smile on my face. Miguel dips his head back down at me and narrows his eyes like it's a competetion.

"Never mind 700,000." he says eyeing me up and down.

"800,000"

"900,000"

"1,000,000" I say finally winning.

"I'll pay 900,00 Sam." Miguel says smiling at her. The lady is crying now and you rush over to hug her.

"Oh poor thing. I have just as much love for dogs as you do. My dog died a couple weeks ago and i've been dying for a new one. That's why we're here so i'm glad we were able to help." You reassure her hugging her.

She mutters a sorry for your loss as she's fighting back tears and you smile feeling tears run down you face as well. Animals were such a big part of life and they brought so many people happiness.

To see the way so many people mistreat animals really crushes your heart. You both pay and walk away with happy smiles and 4 happy puppies with a new home.

You wave to the other employees as they finally realize who you and Miguel were. They asked for pictures and hugs. You gave that to them and then bid them a farewell.

"Thank you Miguel, I really needed this." You say with more tears in your eyes. His face softens and he hugs you and kisses your head. "It's ok baby. I have one more surprise for you at home." He says with a smirk on his face.

You decided to be a tease. The entire car ride you acted bratty and all mad because he wouldn't let you get all the puppies.

You knew exactly what the surprise was so that's why you acted like this. The surprise was sex, you knew it was. That smirk he had on his face in the pet store showed it. He was horny and now frustrated so that only meant one thing...

ROUGH SEX! You loved rough sex with Miguel so much. He would always degrade you and then praise you. He was just so bipolar during sex but whenever you made him real mad and pushed his limits like you are right now,

It always led to hateful, angry sex, well maybe not hateful but really angry, rough sex.

"Get out." He says through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. Your eye's go wide still keeping up with the act. "No Miguel! This conversation isn't over." You say stubbornly sitting in your seat.

"Fine. Then I'm getting out and I'm going to feed the dogs you're neglecting right now." He says with an eyebrow raised and a shrug.

You gasp and cross your arms over your chest. Your body and the car slightly shakes with Miguels slam to the door.

"what a jerk." You mutter under your breath but sometimes you forget your husband has super hearing and you also have a trunk, that happened to be open...

SMUT INCOMING: MDNI!!!!!

"Hmm love? What was that? Oh. I'm a jerk? mhmm mami, I'll show you a jerk." He says in that sultry smooth voice that had your knees buckling, every. single. time.

You let out a sigh as you watch him go into the house( aka a big ass mansion.) You wait until he goes fully inside. He closes the door but you still wait a little just for good measure.

When you walk in, something pushes you against the wall and Miguels lips are instantly on you roughly. You whimper and he grips your throat.

Your hand rushes to his hand around your throat and he growls biting your bottom lip, drawing it back before letting it spring back to it's original place.

His grip on your neck only tightens as he pushes his crotch against you. He flips you around roughly and your face and front part of your body hits the wall hard, his hand still on your neck.

You moan at the feeling of his crotch pressed against your ass now. "You wanted me to be a jerk right? Your so fucking ungrateful baby but damn are you beautiful." he growls in your ear, clearly fed up with your bratty attitude.

"Guess daddy is gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you huh? ¿Es eso lo que quieres, puta sucia?" He asks you. You loved when he dirty talked to you in spanish, it turned you on so much.

"Mhmm, want you to fuck it outta me papi." you say in return, your voice low and seductive. He grins against your neck before biting it roughly. causing you to. cry. out.

He licks over the bite and you whimper, your legs clenching to find some sort of friction. "Nuh uh mamacita, no trying to please your self. Spread em open baby." He says in a soft voice he didn't have a second ago.

You hesitantly oblige and spread your legs. "Good girl, look at that, mi niña bonita es tan buena para mí." he says proudly.

you smile to yourself before he's picking you up over his shoulder and carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

"Miggy, i-i'm sorry, I won't be bratty again! I promise." You beg him with pleading eyes when he rests you in the bedroom, on top of the bed as he slowly climbs on top of you.

"No. Don't do that. That's what you said last week, and last month. Every time you beg, I have mercy on you and let it slide, not today baby. Me lo tomarás como una buena chica, ¿verdad?"

"Yes daddy, I'll take it like a good girl for you! I promise, i'm sorry."you respond. His hand trails up. and down your body agonizingly slow and it's making you anxious and needy.

"mhm, daddy, can you fuck me now, please?" you beg. He looks at you and shakes his head.

"No, mi amor. Shut up, and maybe I will." He says roughly. Your eyes start to tear up, not from his words but from his actions.

I mean, I guess you deserve it but he didn't have to be this slow. You stay quiet for the next 20 minutes? you don't even know anymore cuz you lost count.

He finally dips his head, kissing down your stomach, your clothes long gone. He finally reaches where you want him. His warm tongue flat against your soaking cunt.

You let out a relieved sigh, "mhmm thank you thank you thank you miggy." you chant out breathlessly.

his tongue dips inside of you and that alone has you winded. Your breathing his ragged and your hands immediately flying to his hair as you tug on it.

"What'd I say, hmm love? shut up or I stop." He says sternly, your cunt now feeling empty without his tongue. He licked and sucked and prodded at your entrance multiple times.

Soon making you come undone. Your legs closed around his head and you cried out as he licked up every single drop you had, not letting any at all go to waste.

Once he stood back up and met your teary eyes, he smiled. Not a genuine, happy smile, no. It was this smirk that he made when he knew he won, when he knew that he had your little mind wrapped around his finger.

He begins moving the belt to his pants and all you hear is a grunt. You don't even register his cock slipping and sliding through your slick folds.

"Joder mi amor, te sientes tan apretado a mi alrededor." he moans out as he slides his cock into your entrance. You feel so tight around him. Like virgin tight.

"Gonna beat this pussy real nice baby, No quiero que camines por el resto del fin de semana. No walking at all mama." He whimpers when your walls clench around him.

He's pounding now. First it was small, slow thrusts to ease you into it but your pussy is just too addicting. Miguel was so lost in your pussy, he doesn't even realize how hard he's pounding in to you.

His pace unrelenting, even after he made you cum for a second time. Your pussy feeling overstimulated and sore but Miguel is too entranced to care, constantly muttering out cure words and how good you feel wrapped around him.

You felt your orgasm coming as your walls fluttered around him again. He groaned at the feeling and roughly thrusted into you yet again.

"This pussy is all mine, such a fucking brat. Now look who's a mess over my cock hmm hermosa? Mierda, eres una jodida puta para mí, cariño." he says aggressively, enunciating his words with his thrusts.

You scream out and chant Miguels name over and over again while your orgasm rushes through you. you claw at his back and pull on his hair. You've left little tiny crescent shapes in his biceps.

He finally cums inside you at the same time and he releases this animalistic, primal groan and you shudder at the sound. You moan when you feel his hot warm load burst inside you.

"Fuck Miguel." you pant out before sleep over comes you. You were so weak and so tired.

It's a little later in the night, 12:32 to be exact. You look at the clock and then look behind you to find a sleep Miguel with his arm under your head and the other keeping you close resting on your stomach.

You turn until your face is in his chest. You had Miguels shirt on and underwear. He's so sweet, he must've cleaned you up when you passed out.

Your hands run through his hair lightly and you smile at his resting face. You kiss his face, then his nose, then his lips and the his neck.

You loved everything about Miguel and you hope he knows it. How tall he was compared to you, how he had such a sweet soul behind that mean facade. Everything about him was drop-dead gorgeous.

If you had the option to relive one memory with Miguel, It would be the first time you met him. So kind and such a gentlemen.

Taglist: @oharaslover @ribbonprincess @willyoubemycherryy @cherryredstarsreblogs /@cherryredstars @versatilehater @dustbunniess / @evbunnie

[luveline]

hi jade!!

if you’re still taking hurt/comfort requests could i request poly marauders and how they all respond to one of remus’ chronic pain flare ups/his chronic pain in general? i think you did one with reader a while ago so feel free to ignore if it feels too repetitive. i love the way you write remus and his chronic pain it means a lot to me as someone who has chronic pain too!! sometime when i have a flare up i reread all your remus fic and it makes me feel so much better ♥️

thank you lovely!! modern au, fem, 1k

“I just don’t know what to say to him,” James whispers. 

You wipe the lip of the bowl, the steam that’s billowing from it fragrant with fresh chopped basil and warm on your cheeks. “You do, Jamie, you’ll just say what you always say to him.” 

“I feel like he must get very tired of me, I just verbal diarrhoea at him while he’s crying.” 

You give James a loving smile. “And he appreciates it, I promise. Are you gonna come in and keep us company?” 

“No. I don’t know. Maybe you can have a look if he’s up for both of us and come and get me?” 

James is too much a sweetheart. He’s been taking care of Remus for years and he’s still never sure if he’s doing the right thing, especially when Sirius isn’t there. You promise James you’ll come and get him as soon as Remus says it’s okay, which he most likely will, and start up the stairs with Remus’ dinner tray to the master bedroom. 

Remus thankfully isn’t crying now despite a rough morning. He’s sitting against the headboard with his jaw locked and a loose neck pillow on his shoulders for support, the TV on a low volume opposite and lighting his face. 

“Can I turn on the light?” 

“Please.” 

You flick it on. “Your soup. Did you want toast?” 

“No… Thank you.” You put the tray on his lap carefully. He tips his head up, smiling weakly. “Thanks, dove.” 

“You’re welcome.” You sit down at the top of the bed with him. “Can I stay?” 

He’s insistent that you stay. You’ve not got much to say while he eats, his small mouthfuls a mixture of relief and wincing, but you take up station by his worst leg and run a loving hand up and down the front of it. When you’re sure he’s alright, you let your hand slide under, your finger to the soft part behind his knee and pushing downward.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” you say, beginning the familiar motions of a massage. 

“I don’t think you could,” he says over the lip of his glass of water. 

You turn away from him with a smile. Even poorly, he’s a wild flirt. “You’ll have to tell James he’s allowed to come and see you. He doesn’t want to be annoying.” 

“I’ll shout for him.” He sighs and holds his tray on either handle. “Jamie!” he calls, sounding himself but admittedly heartbreakingly tired. “Can you come here? Please?” 

James is straight up the stairs. He was probably waiting on the bottom step. “Yeah?” he asks, his irises like mint two pence pieces, his hand sliding down the door frame. 

“Can you move this for me? And sit down?” 

It’s as lovely an invitation from him as any when said so tenderly. James walks around to Remus opposite side, putting his tray on the wide window sill before situating himself in the mountain of blankets. It must be weird to be someone’s boyfriend but to have been their best friend for a long time before it; they fit together effortlessly in some ways and maintain a certain shyness in others. James has no problem sitting as close to Remus as he can, but he doesn’t look at him right away, not until Remus leans up to kiss James’ brown cheek. 

“You’re never annoying,” Remus says. 

James wraps an arm behind Remus’ back, confident though cautious not to hurt him. “If you say so,” he says sincerely. 

Time slugs slowly for you all when Remus is in pain, but eventually he has to lay down, his leg twitching frantically in your hold, his nose pressed hard to James’ arm. You persuade some painkillers into him and stay at his side with his water bottle, your cheek resting on his shoulder.

You get out your phone to text Sirius. He’ll get upset if he isn’t in the know. 

Hi Siri, Remus is in lots of pain, has had 600mg of ibuprofen and three co-codamol because he hasn’t had any paracetamol yet, is that okay? 

Sirius texts back quickly. That’s fine, don’t give him anything else even if he asks for it, three co-codamol is one too many 

Sirius again, on the way home. do we need anything from the shop ? miss you lovely 

You’d smile if you weren’t worried about the boy shaking under your cheek. I miss you too, don’t worry about getting anything

Sirius does worry, you can hear the crinkle of a shopping bag when he gets home a few minutes later. “He was quick,” you say, sitting up to kiss Remus’ cheek. “He’s gonna hog you now.” 

“Love you, dove.” 

“I love you.” 

Remus tries to savour that through the hot pain rushing all over. His pain is strange, it always has been, disobeying reason and often people’s belief. Half of it is a mystery, the other misery, and you and the boys have always believed him nonetheless. He’s never treated as childish or dramatic, only cared for, James’ endless stories and Sirius’ stern concern, and now you, his sweetheart, with all your soft touches and tone. You speak to him like he’s your favourite person on earth, voice underlain with fondness, always. And you’re selfless more often than not as you are right this moment, moving back to his leg, giving Sirius room to crawl breathlessly into bed beside him. 

“Hello, gorgeous. What’s hurting tonight?” Sirius asks.

Not said to undermine him, Sirius just needs to know. He wants to fix everything. 

“My back and my legs, mostly,” Remus confesses through a shiver. He’ll cry soon. No one will make him feel bad for it. 

“Maybe you should try laying on your front for a bit, yeah? James can still harass you,” —Sirius brings his hand to Remus’ cheek and strokes it gently with the bends of his knuckles— “it’s less pressure on your back, is all.” 

Remus feels himself calming already. It’s hard to feel hopeless when he’s well looked after. 

[silvery-orchid]

BE A BETTER PET FOR ME.

synopsis: neuvillette found a perfect use for you after you left your homeland. (honestly this is so depraved and filthy and messed up i will just give you the warnings so you can decide if you wish to read it. neuvillete the man that you are!!)

pairing: dom!yan! neuvillette x fem!sub!reader; (mentions of dom!yan!dottore x reader) warnings: blowjobs, dubcon (barely), humping, dom/sub dynamics, breeding, pet play, hard kinks, masochist reader, facials, handjobs; mentions of: gang bangs, blackmail, hypnosis, bdsm, bondage, has plot kind of, probably more i can't think of right now.

You've always had to answer to someone in your life. Someone higher than you because they gaze down on everyone and you should be grateful they spared you a glance and asked you anything. If they relied on you get something done - at the orphanage you grew up in or the elections you ran - you should have counted yourself lucky they needed you at all. Leaving Snezhnaya wasn't easy by any means but luck and bravery happened to be on your side that night. No, maybe it was an idea of grandeur on your part?

Regardless of the reason, in your life you learned not to ask too many questions and Fontaine was not hard for you to get used to. Being part of this justice system reminded you of something familiar but far more noble than sending children to their punishments. And, while it did resemble a show, you weren't surprised by that - the only thing that surprised you was your boss.

Neuvillette, the archetypal leader with enough calm and manipulative wit to stand elevated above everyone. People marvelled at him, some were jealous that you were the one to carry his paperwork back and forth and you only have Neuvillette to thank for being so ruthless and cold they never suspected anything else.

In public settings, he didn't allow you to even stand near him. During work hours, you were treated just like anyone else. But after everyone left; Neuvillette never let you run away.

At first, given his nature, you thought you were being too paranoid. You thought his intense gaze that made you drop your pens was just his way of saying you were not good enough. His tugs at your clothes were only reminders of how sloppy you were, surely. He only did that to make you more presentable because he couldn't stand the sight of you. That must have been it.

However, you quickly realized that he was simply a man who wanted to control everything. People had specific roles to fulfil in his eyes and you should have been even more paranoid about your own.

Doubts went away on the night his gloved hand slid up your skirt during a banquet he didn't deem important enough. He saw you standing in the hallway and told you to follow him. He was so calm and composed even when locking the door behind him and pressing you against it. He didn't flinch while you were confused, his fingers were already sliding up your thigh.

'Your dress tonight is far too tempting. Simply groping you to fix it won't be enough.' were the last words he said before sliding your panties to the side and covering your mouth with his hand.

Neuvillette did not have enough regard for you that would disobey his wishes and, while you just remember being hazy, you don't remember fighting his advances.

And that is how it all began. Soon enough, your main job of sorting documents became secondary even if you still had to carry it out with perfection.

Your main job and joy transformed into being perfect enough for him to breed and break. You were lucky nobody was allowed to enter into his office without a direct invitation. If anyone did, they might have found you pressed against the walls or chained to his desk. Perhaps, they would have found you on a pile of important paperwork you brought with his cock buried deep inside while he manhandles you.

But he was so good at it. Sometimes you would stand on the sidelines during his speeches or trials and you would feel warm just from looking at him on that podium. He was always, always above you and a twisted need find it's way between your legs. You would never admit to anyone but him to where you disappeared to. You would never even tell him how, if he was on the radio, you would masturbate to his voice alone.

And fuck, did he have such a nice voice. Anytime it gave you a command, your spine would feel it. If he gave you praise and called you a 'perfect dumb toy', your body would get flushed. If he degraded you? You just felt the need to hear his insults over and over again. Neuvillette was a selfish man, but he loved to see and hear you break.

Right now, you were sitting down next to his chair. He was signing off the final papers you brought with one hand while his other absentmindedly played with your hair.

He would soon be finished. Your eyes carefully traced his movements in anticipation. Soon he would be done and you wouldn't have to keep rubbing your thighs together. Sometimes you would glance at this lap and see that he was already half hard. His libido was insatiable. And it felt so nice to know you were the only one he would breed and stain with his cum.

When he put the last stamp, you looked up at him. He didn't issue you a command and you didn't dare to do anything on your own.

'What? Are you looking at me and hoping for something?'

His voice was always cold unless he was moaning and panting against yohr body. Perhaps that is why you enjoyed everything he did if it made you feel wanted by a man like him?

'Are you so eager to moan out you love me while you cream all over my cock again?'

He hadn't even done anything and you were starting to get wet. Who would imagine such a proper man respected by all would ever say such a thing? Nobody. And that was the allure. Only you knew how much his depravity ran.

'Pet, move over in front of me.' A command. Finally. He could see your eyes light up as you dragged yourself over the floor to kneel down. Your thighs rubbed together and Neuvillette realized just how much he had spoilt you when your hand reached for his belt.

He glared at you and that was enough sign that you had done something wrong. To make it look like an accident, you placed it on his knee instead and rubbed small circles just so that he could feel the warmth of your skin.

Maybe he would punish you by tying you up again? Or he would deny your orgasms and cum on your stomach to prove you weren't good enough for him to actually fuck?

'Tell me pet, am I the best man you've ever been with?'

That was odd. Neuvillette never asked you questions of this nature. Usually they were only questions during passion like: 'You love being dragged on the floor don't you?' and 'Wouldn't you just look so good pregnant and stuffed with my seed?'. But this was new.

'The best man I've been with?' Maybe this was a new game of making you embarrassed? It certainly did the trick

'Y-Yes.' 'Prove it to me then. Before I replace you.'

Even from the darkness inside his office and your current position now you could see that light smirk he had while resting his head on his hand. He wanted to be especially cruel tonight but you never thought he would replace you so soon.

With a shaky hand and a racing mind you reached out for his belt. He allowed it this time but he wasn't amused. If he wanted to replace you, you'd just have to make him feel better than ever before.

Your thighs were so hot and warm you couldn't control yourself. You wanted nothing more than to put his cock in your mouth. No time to undress him or tug down your own clothes.

Neuvellitte let you just free his cock from the restraints and it was already hard by that look on your face. Warm skin, glassy eyes that didn't look anywhere else and complete obedience were in front of him. How could he not enjoy the face you didn't even realize your mouth was open before you pressed yourself forward to lick his tip.

He was such a pale man and yet his tip was the most beautiful shade of red to you. Your fingers wrapped around his girthy and veiny cock and your hips jerked slightly. You remembered how nice it felt when it was inside you - stretching you and hitting all the spots. You had to thank his generosity by circling the tip of it with your tongue. Your excitement was so immense that your mouth was filling with spit and since it was so late Neuvillette didn't care if it got all over his cock and dripped down to his pants.

You were so eager and adorable, looking blissful before he even did anything to you. He thought it would make him happy but instead he furrowed his brow.

'Not good enough.'

You barely had time to register what he said before he gripped your jaw and pulled your head up. The sudden shift had you groaning because you were still on your knees.

'You say i am the best man you've been with yet that look on your face didn't change.'

What was he talking about?

'It looks the same on the photos where you're sucking off that doctor. Tell me, did you take me for a fool?'

All the warmth in your body suddenly disappears. You feel cold, colder than ever. Maybe even cold like your homeland and the messed up laboratory Dottore forced you in. Neuvillette knew. He knew about your past and the fact you were a fugitive. Would he turn you in? Wait, was this his messed up trial to prove you didn't deserve this comfortable life?

You were shivering by this point and refusing to cry but you simply couldn't stop your eyes from getting teary when Neuvillette tossed an envelope and all the photos flew out.

It reminded you what you ran way from and what formed all these kinks Neuvillette triggered again.

There was a photo of you in a cow bikini drinking milk from a bowl on the floor with bruised hands. Then, there was one of you being tied to his table. Another one of you with a special device that hypnotised you. One where you were covered in cum all over your body. And the last one was the one Neuvillette spoke of; it was from when Dottore made you fuck him and some of his clothes. A perfect shot of you giving one of them a blowjob that he took.

But you ran away! You did everything you could! Was this a warning? How did Neuvillette get this envelope?

'I never thought you would dare lie in front of me. You should know better than that.'

His voice was cold but never like this. Never did you feel hatred from it but not it was different. Neuvillette hated you and you lost everything you had. Your hair was standing up, your hands were shaking and you could feel your heartbeat pounding away in your ears. Neuvillette was getting blurry and you were growing more desperate.

Then, when he saw you like that, completely afraid and dependent on him, Neuvillette's twisted desires grew. No where on those photos did you look so lost and desperate. He was probably the first man to make you feel that way and he couldn't deny how your brokenness made his cock throb. Then, he decided to be your saviour instead. Preventing crime and punishing it went hand and hand. He would throw you a bone to cling to, and would get a pet even more eager to please.

How desperately he wanted to see your ruin. To hear it and taste it on his tongue.

'Prove to me how desperate you are and I might take pity on you.'

Save you from himself? You aren't sure if it was the glimmer of hope or the messiness in your head at all those years in Dottore's hands that made you act but your blood started to flow and bloom again.

All you had to do was prove just how good and desperate you are. Nobody was better at that than you and nobody got more wet at the idea of it.

You placed your knees on the sides of Neuvillette's left leg. Those glassy eyes of yours and tear strained cheeks were a sight to behold when he saw you were looking up at him in marvel. Then, you rested your head on his knee and reached to jerk him off with your right hand. Your head was hazy and tired, but your hips were moving on their own. You were grinding down on his boot; you were fucking yourself crazy on it.

That night, you kept humping his foot until you reached the most intense and messy orgasm. You were so fucked out and desperate you probably didn't even know you were drooling and slobbering all over his pants while moaning how you were a good pet; how badly you wanted him to fuck you. Fuck, you didn't even realize your hand had stopped moving before he reached his high because you tired yourself out and fell asleep.

But Neuvillete didn't mind; he simply let you stay on his lap looking so serene before he gave his cock a few final strokes to paint your face white.

Maybe he should thank that man for sending him this envelope. Maybe even for training you to be such a perfect pet. But one thing was for sure, he definitely wouldn't let you go anytime soon.

avert you eyes. i was hormonal

[luvismenu]

First Meet ⋆˚࿔ fuckboy!jungkook 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ extra ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

series m.list

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note — just a lot of yapping ig?? lmao

a frat party.

you despise frat parties.

so why are you here?

because you wanna fuck hoseok.

you just have to find him in this crowd, strike up a conversation, maybe flirt a little, and then let things happen naturally.

simple, right?

wrong!!

you’ve never done this kind of thing before. well, you’re not a virgin, but you’ve never really gone out of your way to hook up with someone who wasn’t in a relationship with you. why would you? your vibrator has always been enough, and besides, you don’t trust people easily. putting yourself out there like this feels foreign—almost reckless.

so why now? why hoseok?

he’s been your study buddy for a while now. almost like a good friend to you. compared to the other guys you’ve met, he’s respectful, never once tried to cross any boundaries.

that’s basically the bare minimum, but still, for some reason, you’re really attracted to him.

or you're just sex deprived.

when he invited you to his friend’s party; where everyone either drinks, hooks up, or both. you figured it was a sign.

“you can come if you wanna” were his exact words, casual and without pressure.

still, an invite to a party like this must mean something, right? you probably have a chance with him. you just want to fuck him.

a hookup isn’t that bad, is it?

“___! over here!” hoseok’s voice cuts through the crowd, and you spot him waving at you. you push through the sweaty bodies and the overwhelming stench of alcohol. he’s swaying with a drink in hand, a pretty woman clinging to his side.

great.

he already has plans for tonight.

“you came!” he cheers.

not yet you haven’t. and, at this rate, you probably won’t.

“yeah… yay, i came,” you reply, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“enjoy yourself, ___! drink as much as you want!” he laughs, clearly already wasted. the woman next to him pulls him closer, whispering something in his ear while kissing his neck in a way that feels too intimate.

awkward..

“have fun, okay? i’ll see you in a few,” hoseok says, before turning back to the woman. “got some unfinished business to deal with.”

and just like that, he’s gone.

you’re disappointed. sad, even. and a little.. mad?

“good job, ___,” you mutter under your breath. “this is what you get for not telling him if you were coming or not.”

ugh, imagine getting all worked up for nothing.

“what do i even do now?” you sigh, turning around to leave. “guess i’ll just— ow! what the fu—”

“watch where you’re going, dumba— oh.”

you rub your shoulder, looking up at the guy who practically knocked you over. in the dim lighting, you can’t make out much of his face, but he’s staring down at you, eyes scanning your features.

“that fucking hurts,” you groan.

“if you wanted my attention that badly, you could’ve just asked instead of running into me,” he says, a cocky smirk forming on his lips. “also, bumping into strangers isn’t the best approach, you know.”

“you bumped into me!” you protest.

“that’s what they all say,” he grins, the cockiness in his voice irritates you.

oh you hate him already.

“i was trying to leave, and you came out of nowhere!! whatever, it was an accident, okay? i wasn't trying to get your attention. i don’t even know who you are,” you explain, growing more frustrated.

“you don’t know me?”

you shake your head, confused.

“who invited you?”

“why do you care?”

“because this is my party.”

oh.

shit.

it’s jeon jungkook.

“oh i-”

“wait. aren’t you ___?”

“uh, yeah, that’s me. how do you know my name?” you ask, surprised that he recognizes you.

“i think i saw you talking to hoseok once and—” loud cheering interrupts him, followed by the sound of music thumping from the main room. he glances around, looking slightly annoyed before continuing, “come on, i know a quieter place.”

you give him a look, cleary not liking that idea.

“i won’t do anything, darling,” he says softly. “i promise. i just wanna talk,” something about the way he says it makes your stomach do a flip.

no, nope, you can't let your hormones take control over you right now.

you shake your head slightly, trying to clear your thoughts.

“you coming?” he asks as he starts walking, glancing back at you with a teasing smile.

normally, you'd be on your way out of a party like this. but something in you decided to follow him. maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was just because the loud, crowded room was starting to get on your nerves.

“so, you study with hoseok. interesting.” he sits beside you. “didn’t know he was into people like you.” jungkook hands you a coke.

you take it from his hand, raising an eyebrow. “people like me?”

“just didn’t think hoseok hung out with nerds,” jungkook replies, his tone casual but with that ever-present cockiness.

jeon jungkook—the infamous fuckboy.

you don’t really understand why he’s so popular.

sure, he’s handsome. and okay, maybe his perfectly sculpted body helps, but the way girls fawn over him and the way guys seem to both admire and fear him baffles you.

even now, you find him irritating.

how can someone so cocky be so popular?

“what is that supposed to mean?” you frown.

he shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“did you spike this?” you ask, raising a brow as you take a cautious sip.

he rolls his eyes “relax. i’m a fuckboy, not a creep.”

“same thing.” you shrug, taking another sip, feeling the cold liquid hit your throat.

“so, why are you here?”

“what do you mean?”

“this place is filled with fuckboys—or creeps, as you like to call them. doesn’t seem like your vibe.”

“uh, like i said before, i was invited,” you say, clearing your throat, feeling slightly defensive. “thought i’d check it out.”

jungkook looks at you skeptically, and the weight of his stare makes you shift uncomfortably.

“you wanna be a fuckgirl?”

“what?! no!” you almost choke on your drink, the suggestion catching you off guard.

he grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “then you wanna fuck?”

“i don’t wanna fuck,” you snap. “at least, not you or any of these people.” you look away, feeling embarrassed at the bluntness of his and your words.

jungkook looks at you, puzzled for a moment, and then his eyes widen as he puts the pieces together. “hoseok?? you’re into hoseok? wow… i mean,” he clears his throat “i thought you didn’t like fuckboys.”

“since when is that any of your business?” you scoff, glaring at him.

he raises his hands in surrender, still grinning. “my bad. just curious.”

you face the other way, crossing your arms in frustration. first, you are not getting fucked tonight and you're mad. second, you’re sitting here with one of the cockiest guys on campus. none of this is what you had in mind for the night.

you groan internally, wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake.

“hey,” jungkook’s voice softens, and you turn your head slightly to look at him. “why so grumpy?” he teases and you roll your eyes yet again.

“oh, maybe because i’m not getting fucked tonight and i am stuck with the campus' favorite fuckboy,” you blurt out, regretting the words the second they leave your mouth.

his eyes widen a little, amusement flashing across his face. “hm, well, do you want me to call hoseok for you? i’m pretty sure he wouldn’t say no to a pretty girl like you.” he pulls out his phone, and you quickly reach out to stop him.

“no! what!? that’s embarrassing. what are you thinking?” your hand covers his phone, pushing it down, your fingers brushing against his.

jungkook pauses, looking at where your hand is touching his. his eyes flick up to meet yours, surprised, and you quickly pull your hand away, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “just… don’t try to help. i’m fine.”

“right,” he says, putting his phone away. “forgot you’re a little different.”

“different?” you ask, frowning.

“i mean, you clearly don’t fit in with the people here,” he says casually.

“i can if i want to,” you retort, not even sure why you’re trying to prove yourself to him.

he chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “yeah? prove it then”

you hesitate for a moment, unsure of what he expects. but there’s something in the way he’s looking at you that makes your pulse race.

“i was just joking, you don't have to— mmph!”

the kiss is quick. it ends as soon as it starts. when you pull back, his eyes are wide. he clearly did not expect that.

you feel a strange sense of pride wash over you, but the embarrassment quickly sets in. “i- uh, i have to go now,” you announce, hoping to make an exit before he can say something to make the situation worse.

“oh, uh sure,” he mutters, standing up as you do, but just as you're about to leave, he grabs your wrist.

“you sure you don't wanna fuck?” he asks, clearly teasing you.

“no. unlike you, i can keep it in my pants,” you retort, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

“weren't you mad that you weren't gonna get fucked tonight? i can totally help you, you know,” he offers.

“i am fine.” you say, turning around to leave, but he grabs your wrist once more.

“can i have your number at least?”

“what? no. why would i give my number to you?” you shoot back immediately, almost as if the question is absurd.

he frowns, looking genuinely offended. “you're mean. i just wanna be your friend. nothing wrong with being friends!!”

you pause for a moment, considering his words. it’s not like you’re opposed to having friends, but something about him being your friend feels weird. “i don't think that's—”

“come on, just think about it. you seem cool, and i am hot, it would work you know” he interrupts

“i am cool and you're hot? seriously?” you almost let out a scoffed laugh

“yeah, why not?” he presses, his eyes searching yours for an answer. “trust me, i’m not that bad.”

“you say that, but you're still a fuckboy,” you remind him

“maybe, but i can be a fun fuckboy,” he counters, a playful glint in his eyes. “what do you have to lose?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “this conversation is ridiculous.”

“so is this party,” he replies, grinning. “just give me a chance. what’s the worst that could happen?”

you hesitate, “uh well i don't really—”

“oh please, you literally just kissed me, and—”

“okay, okay!! fine. give me your phone,” you sigh, cutting him off before he can make a bigger deal out of it.

he grins, handing you his phone. you type in your number and your name, then hand it back to him.

“happy?” you ask.

“very,” he says, that signature cocky grin returning.

you roll your eyes, turning to walk away, but before you get too far, you hear him call out again, “any chance we could make out?”

without looking back, you yell.

“fuck off!”

[jockbroski34]

New Year's Resolution

Hey bros, Happy New Year's! I hope you all make this year your best yet and I hope you all reach your goals. I came up with a short story on the fly to ring in the new year. Hope you guys didn't party too hard like these two!

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Before I knew it, 2024 was almost here. Everyone always says that next year will be their year, but few people actually end up following through with their New Year's resolutions. Some people want to make more money, some might want to quit smoking, but me? I just wanna get jacked, bro. I know how it goes though. People go to the gym for a week, then are unable to keep up with that lifestyle. But I can do it, and I will. I felt a sense of determination with the desire to get in shape.

I found myself at a New Year's party. One of my co-workers invited me. I didn't know most of the people there, but I didn't have any plans so I decided to go, because why not? My friends barely have time for me anyways. A lot of them have started to settle down and some decided to have smaller celebrations with their spouses or are visiting family.

I was sitting on the couch when a guy I've never met sat down next to me and greeted me. He told me his name was Mike. He was my age, wearing a backwards hat, tank top, and shorts. Not exactly the best look for the winter, but he looked just like a fuckboy who partied all day every day. He probably just wears this every day just to show off his muscles and pick up chicks. He started chatting me up about the party and about the football game that was on the TV. I didn't really know anything about sports, but it was what was on so I played along, not wanting to be rude. He asked me what my New Year's resolution was. I said I wanted to get jacked. He seemed confident that I could do it. He downed what had to have been his third beer so far before asking if I wanted another drink as well. His breath stank with the scent of beer.

I said sure. As long as it got this dude away from me for a minute or two. I might tolerate him more if I was drunk anyways since it didn't seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He came back carrying two bottles of the same type of beer. We made a toast for the new year and chugged our beers. As I drank, I started to realize that Mike wasn't that bad for a dudebro. He was actually really chill. I ended up asking for his number so we can get drinks sometime. He said he knows some good bars nearby and he didn't live too far from me.

He asked me what my New Year's resolution is. He already asked me that though? His memory must not be the best since he was drunk. I told him I wanted to be jacked, kinda like him. He chuckled a dumb laugh, drunk from the excessive amount of alcohol he drank tonight.

"What do you mean? You're already jacked, bro."

I was confused at first. I didn't have a lot of muscle.

"Look at yourself dude."

I thought he was fucking with me until I looked down. My biceps felt like they were throbbing, burning as they seemingly increased in size. I panicked, running to the bathroom, unsure of whether I wanted to check out my new gains or find a way to stop the aching burn in my muscles. I looked at myself in the mirror, and flexed. I wasn't hallucinating. I was just as jacked as the bro I was drinking with. I stripped down. I realized that I had a six pack as well. The dude from before knocks before entering the bathroom with me.

"You good bro?"

"What the fuck did you do to me?" I asked, overwhelmed by my new body.

"You said you wanted to be jacked, so I made you jacked. I put something in your drink, and now you're huge. Isn't that what you wanted, dude?"

I couldn't deny that. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful to him or mad at him for doing this without my consent. He could've even drugged me further. Before I could comprehend everything, he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me in for a picture, showing off our ripped bodies.

"Hey, try my hat on. I wanna see how you look in it now."

He tossed me the hat he was wearing, but I didn't wear hats. I took care of my hair and I didn't want my hair to get messy. I wanted to look professional, not like a frat bro. Despite that, I found myself wanting to put it on, and so I did. To my surprise, I even turned it backwards just like my best bud. Best bud? I didn't really have a best friend. But Mike was my new best friend. We met at my co-worker's New Year's party and we hit it off really well. I needed a new workout partner to help me stay consistent, so he offered to take me with him every day. He's actually looking for a new roommate so I might move in with him since we get along so well. Makes it more convenient since we plan to hang out and party all the time in the coming year.

I start to realize that my mannerisms are changing, starting to match his. Before I was uptight and professional, a total bore. Now I’m an outgoing, party-loving dudebro. I felt my penis grow erect in my pants and start leaking as I became as horny as Mike, with my length growing to a sexy 9 inches to go alongside his. I doubt that I could pull as much as him with my old size.

"You feeling better, bro?"

"Yeah dude. I feel great! Let's pound some more brewskis and fuck a baddie or two."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Mike gave me a high-five. "You can keep the hat by the way. A memory of the day we met, bro."

And keep it I did. I decided I would wear it everywhere, especially when I was out with him and his bros. I would fit perfectly in with them in a way that my old self would have never.

We returned to the party with even more beers in our hands, and me and Mike chugged every last one of them. We drank the most beers out of anyone in the party combined. My coworker caught the two of us causing a scene and kicked us out. He almost didn't recognize me at first, but after seeing me with him, he started to put two and two together. He told Mike that this is why he doesn’t invite him anywhere. I thought my coworker would tell my boss about my conduct, but I didn't really care what happens. It's not my fault I’m a party animal.

"What a buzzkill," Mike said. "Whatever. Let's go back to my place. I took a box of beer with us to finish as we left. They aren't gonna finish themselves."

Midnight was still a few hours away, and all of his bros were at other parties anyways. We sat down on his messy couch and finished what was left of the beers, cheering on our team and playing loud music. Didn't matter where we were or who we were with, we were the life of the party. My bro became pent up after not being able to get any action tonight and so was I. I offered to suck him off. After all, it's not gay to suck a homie off, and so we got off together. Getting head from him was almost as good as a hot babe. I’ve never had a guy blow me before. Neither of us could tell the other how much we really enjoyed it without the fear of being called gay.

After we both released our loads, we passed out from all the alcohol we drank, him on top of me. I don't think I ever drank this much in my life, and it was just one night. We woke up, looking like a total mess on the couch. Damn, we slept past midnight. I was still wearing his hat. I thought I would wake up and find out this was all a dream, but nah. I’m still Mike’s douchey best friend. But I smiled, knowing that we would always have each other’s back.

"Happy New Year’s, bro." I said.

"Happy New Year’s! Now tell me your real New Year's resolution, dude?" Mike answered, obviously hungover.

"I wanna party and fuck all year long!"

"Fuck yeah, bro!" He gave me a strong, brotherly hug. He told me about a rager that one of his friends was hosting tonight. All of his bros are invited and so am I, and some hot babes are gonna be there. This was the life I always wished I had, and this year, it will be my life.