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murderofravens · 2 months ago

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BLACKEST DAY

pairing: cho sangwoo x fem reader

summary: old feelings are rekindled when you encounter your father's old friend at the games.

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, sangwoo is 46) badly written smut, face slapping, slightly toxic dynamics, a smidge of some age-gap kink. lots of angst. body worship. this is a oneshot.

word count: around 5k

[feedback and reblogs are a writer's biggest motivation.]

MASTERLIST

life has a funny way of reuniting people.

when you woke up in the hall, surrounded by strangers wearing those ugly green clothes much like yourself, your first thought was— 'i should have brought someone with me.'

you were always rather wary of doing things by yourself. things seem much easier when you have a helping hand to give you advice, or to make bad decisions together.

your first shock came upon the mention of his name, taken by one of the guards.

player 218, cho sangwoo.

your eyes snapped up to the screen where you could see a clip of him getting slapped after repeatedly losing the game.

"former supervisor of team two at joy investments, embezzled money from his clients, invested it in derivatives and figures and failed. current loss, 650 million won."

you looked around frantically before you caught sight of him— handsome as ever, although visibly distraught. his shocked eyes were looking at the guards with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

you had known sangwoo since you were rather young. idolized him at one point, even. he and your father used to be some sort of business partners— which you can guess was another word for friends who gambled and hung out occasionally. most of your years went by with him acknowledging you politely, getting you chocolate everytime he came to visit, and patting your head with a proud smile whenever your parents told him about one of your achievements at school. you wanted to be like him— smart, ambitious and a hard worker.

you'd moved off for college when you were of age, and according to his mother, he had moved to the US for business purposes.

which, as you can see, didn't work out.

you don't really try to make conversation with him, don't even look at his side of the room. mainly because you're embarrassed. there are two reasons— the first being that you don't want to see the man you idolized at a place like this. and the second is personal. your last memory of him isn't something you're fond of. it still fills you with resentment and a sense of sadness— you had asked to meet up with him before you were going off to college, hoping to express your feelings. you'd developed a childish crush on him when you were growing up, and it had expanded into genuine feelings over time.

but he never showed up, and you were left sitting in the expensive restaurant all by yourself. you never revealed that to anyone, deciding to take that moment of humiliation to the grave.

the first game was terrifying, to say the least. while you could tell there was something inherently shady about the whole organization, what left you in genuine shock was the first shot that rang out through the field, killing the person who moved. you were careful about your steps then, walking forward rather meticulously, ensuring you were not a victim in whatever hellhole you've found yourself in.

splatters of blood covered your face as you almost reached the line, hiding behind another taller man. there were a mere 10 seconds left. your heart was quite literally trying to beat out of your chest, and sweat dripped down your forehead. and that's when you first made eye contact with him.

sangwoo, who was bent in half, was panting as he looked at the finish line. his gaze rose, and connected with yours— eyes immediately widening with recognition. you were frozen as you looked at him, jaw clenched and panic stricken. he looked at the timer, and the doll turned away. you quickly began running, and you saw him straighten up as the timer began nearing zero. you jumped across the finish line, and his hand grabbed you to help. you stumbled into him and the both of you fell onto the dusty ground— a mess of sweaty limbs.

you don't say a word to him as the guards guide you back to the hall. he is just as silent behind you, and you wonder if it's because he's embarrassed about being there, or if he remembered what he did to you and is reluctant to acknowledge you after.

"i didn't expect to see you here." he remarks quietly, voice grim. his head is lowered, and there's an almost disappointed look in his eyes.

the audacity.

"i could say the same about you," you shoot back dryly, sitting cross legged on the floor. he looks at you then, and your gaze challenged his.

"you've grown since i last saw you." he adds, and you scoff in response. so what? you were still bitter.

"it's just two years."

he clenches his jaw and looks away, his ears feeling hot. you've always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, and apparently it still applies. you look up at him, eyes accusatory.

"i thought you went to the states." there's a taunting edge to your voice— rather shallow and childish on your end, but you can't help yourself. you're playing with life and death, but still you're angrier about your history with him than anything else.

"all those degrees just to scam people? i'd expect more from someone like you, mr. sangwoo—"

"you don't know what you're talking about," he shuts your words down quickly, voice firm. he's quick to change the topic, visibly agitated. "i thought you went to college. what happened to your—"

"father?" you interrupt, sitting straighter. "he got scammed."

you look at him pointedly as you say the last word, and his eye twitches.

"he gambled away his money on some non existent race. i dont live with him anymore and i need money to continue college and pay rent. my mom doesn't know and i don't wanna worry her." you take a sharp breath, voice getting lower, "my landlady threw me out before i found the ddakji guy."

his face softens with every sentence, an expression close to pity taking over. you hate pity, so you shut it down with a glare.

"don't give me that look," you sigh with exhaustion, running a hand down your face.

"i'm sorry to hear that," he says quietly, avoiding your eyes. he blinks a few times, adjusts his glasses. he doesn't know what else to say, and he's almost glad for the interruption when the staff walks in and announces the results of the first game.

it's so sudden how people begin to beg for their lives— kneeling before the guards, pleading to be spared. it makes you feel sorry and disgusted at the same time— you can understand why they'd do so, but you can't imagine kneeling before an organisation like this in any way. you value your dignity.

when the gunshot rings out to silence the begging crowd, the guard announces the second clause of the contract: a player who refuses to play will be terminated.

your head snaps up at the sound of sangwoo's confident voice.

"clause three of the consent form—" he steps forward, "the games may be terminated upon a majority vote."

the guard nods, "that is correct."

"then," he looks around, and his eyes fall on you. he looks away, and cocks his head to the side, "let us take a vote."

you almost feel that sense of admiration for him once again— he was always smart, that you can admit. more attentive than others, better at remembering little details. he's stepping forward to directly challenge these guards while people are begging for their lives. he's brave, like he's always been.

you fall in line beside him, and he looks down at you. you give him a slight nod, before your attention is diverted to the next announcement. the staff then show the money accumulated by the deaths of the previous player— 100 million won for each. as the massive piggy bank hanging from the ceiling glows, you can feel him stiffen at the mere sight of the money.

and the voting starts. your number comes soon enough— player 420.

you don't hesitate.

this money is not more important than your life. you need to consider all your options— you're not confident that you would make it till the end. and you don't want to fucking die yet.

you press the cross, and fall into the crowd.

sangwoo's number comes a while after— and you watch him like a hawk. you know he's a smart guy who knows better than to put himself in a compromising situation. you hope he'll help you go home.

until he presses the 'O.'

you feel utterly betrayed once again and he goes to his side of the crowd, not looking at you even once. you scoff to yourself, baffled by his audacity, before redirecting your focus to the voting counter. you start hoping your side wins purely out of spite.

player 001 presses X. your side erupts into cheers and you let out a breath of relief, glancing at sangwoo who stands frozen with his head lowered.

you don't remember much after.

the car ride feels suffocating— everything is dark. there's shuffling before you feel yourself being shoved, and you let out a yelp as your bare skin hits the gravel. "ouch— fuck!"

you hear your name— and recognise the voice.

"mister sangwoo?" you gasp, and hear a pained 'yes'. you can feel a cloth wrapped around your eyes, and your hands and legs are tied. you groan, shifting and writhing on the ground, impatiently trying to free yourself. you feel teeth on the front of your wrists before your hands are released.

you sit up quickly and snatch the cloth off your eyes. you turn to sangwoo then, and quickly untie his wrists. he grunts before sitting up, and the two of you untie your legs.

"shit, it's cold—" you hiss, quickly standing up. those bastards had only left you in a plain white sports bra and underwear. he was naked as well save for a pair of white boxers. the sight makes your skin feel hot, and you take a greedy but discreet glance at his chest before rushing towards your jeans and hoodie that are tossed to the side of the road, quickly getting dressed.

you clear your throat and turn around, only to see him quickly looking away from you, his clothes still in his hands. your eyes narrow knowingly and he wordlessly gets dressed, buttoning up his white shirt.

"are we still in seoul?" you ask, and he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses before looking up towards the buildings. he nods, and you shiver slightly.

he turns to you and hesitates before moving forward to put his grey blazer over you. you raise your eyebrows in question, and he doesn't respond before checking his pockets.

"are you hungry?" he asks, and almost comically in that same moment your stomach growls. he holds back a smile, and you wrap his blazer tighter around yourself.

you rest your head against the table while you wait. you can feel it pounding, but the smell of hot ramen tempts you to raise it. he takes a seat beside you and places the steaming bowl in front of you.

"do you have the money for this?" you cant help but ask.

"dont worry about it," he says with a wave of his hand, bringing out his chopsticks to eat. you decide to leave the job of worrying to him and get to eating.

you're a rather slow eater, and he doesn't complain. he steps out of the store, and you can see his back as he takes out a cigarette. you slurp up the rest of your food and follow him out.

"i don't feel that cold anymore," you hand him his blazer, and he turns to look at you. you're thankful about your self control, because he is a sight. so devilishly handsome even after witnessing such horrors— his cigarette teasingly hanging off his lips, the smoke wafting up and making his eyes squint just a little. his glasses make him look so much more sophisticated, or perhaps you have a thing for nerdy looking men. you're not a smoker, but he makes it look so good. if you were a weaker woman, you would've gasped. no wonder half of your childhood went by with that barely disguised crush on him— no wonder no guy your age back in college seemed good enough.

you clear your throat, bring yourself back to earth and continue. "you can have it. thank you."

he takes the blazer with a nod and puts it on. takes another puff of the cigarette, and watches you look around.

"i thought you'd come back with an american wife." you almost cringe at your own words. but conversation is conversation, you don't know how else to start. it's a discreet way to find out his relationship status, if any.

"marriage is the last thing on my mind." he responds quietly, taking a puff. you look at the side of his face, and his eyes stare at the road in front of him— thoughtful. you wonder what he's thinking about.

"where will you go?" he asks without looking at you.

you shrug, "i don't know."

"do you have any money?"

you pause, suddenly feeling a sense of dread. you have no money, and what little you got from the ddakji guy, you spent on your rent. which got you thrown out anyway.

your silence speaks volumes. he tosses the cigarette to the floor and stomps on it. you sigh.

"i don't have any money."

"come with me," he looks at you, gaze intense and serious. "i have enough for the both of us. atleast for a few days till we can figure things out."

"why?" you cross your arms over your chest almost defensively, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

he grits his teeth as he glares at you, mouth twitching. he looks away then, tonguing the inside of his cheek before returning your gaze. "you have nowhere else to go. it wouldn't be responsible to leave you alone like this."

you almost scoff— the words on the tip of your tongue. but you were okay with leaving me alone back then? but you don't say it, not yet, because you could use his financial help right now. you sigh, before nodding, and gesturing forward.

"fine, lead the way."

the motel he takes you to looks respectable enough. you look around, eyeing the plain decor. the man behind the counter looks at the two of you, and then gives sangwoo a toothy grin, which immediately alerts you.

"only one room available."

sangwoo doesn't protest. he doesn't have the finances to get two separate rooms either. he opens the room and you go in first, looking around. there's a single bed and some flashy lights, and it makes you roll your eyes. you turn around to settle him with a pointed look.

"it's better than i thought," he grunts, taking his blazer off as he takes in the scene. he steps forward and drags a finger down the side table, examines the dust it leaves on his skin with mild disgust.

you bite your lower lip as you watch him— his shirt stretching across his chest, his hair falling messily across his forehead. his glasses resting delicately on the bridge of his nose.

fucking nerd.

his gaze snaps up to you and that's when you realize you'd said that out loud. you wince, looking away and he straightens up, blinking innocently.

"you're still upset with me."

you cross your arms over your chest as you sit on the bed. you quirk an eyebrow, and he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you from a respectable distance.

you decide to play dumb.

"about what?"

he's not amused. he stares at you, expression serious and intense, "i didn't plan to stand you up that day."

so we're going straight to it, you think.

"then why did you?" you snap, unable to hold back the hurt from your voice, "i waited for an hour. you never came. i wanted to talk to you."

"i know." he nods. he walks up to you then, stands at the foot of the bed. "i know what you wanted to talk to me about. i was scared."

you freeze, looking at him cautiously, your heartbeat rising. "scared?"

"i knew you had feelings for me." he sighs, sitting down beside you. his voice is hushed, making the moment feel more intimate than you'd like. "i could tell that's what you wanted to talk to me about. it terrified me."

your breath feels like it's knocked out of your lungs. you swallow the lump in your throat, holding back the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. "did anyone ever tell you that you're an asshole?"

he grunts, takes out another cigarette. he lights it up and takes a long drag— taking his time to respond.

"many people," he says, blowing some smoke through his nostrils. the sight almost makes your mouth water, but you ignore it.

"you're a dick," you shoot back dryly.

"what i am—" he points his cigarette at you, "— is too old for you. surely you didn't think it was a good idea?"

"you could've rejected me instead," you chuckle bitterly, "but you decided to leave me there to look stupid."

"you were too young." his voice is low, and his response almost makes you want to strangle him. he dusts some ash off his cigarette, adjusts his glasses, and looks at you with an intensity that makes your skin feel hot. "i couldn't keep you happy even if i wanted to."

you frown, gritting your teeth. he looks away.

"you looked at me like i hung the moon and the stars." he continues, looking ahead at the wall, gaze distant. "i couldn't maintain those expectations. we were in two completely different stages. you were meant to go to college, study well, get a good job, a boy your age—"

"stop talking like you're my father," you snap before he can finish, standing up. there's heat behind your glare and you almost laugh at his expression, "i had no expectations from you. so stop with your- your little— excuses. what's done is done, right? you've stood me up once, no need to reject me by wording it smartly. i don't wanna be with you anymore anyway."

that was a lie. you just hoped he couldn't see through your act. you're riled up because you're still affected by him, and his polite behaviour is driving you insane— you want to tear away at his walls, expose the passion he hides behind his smart guy facade. you know it because you've seen it in the way his eyes light up when he talks about his ambitions— how willing he is to cross any line to achieve what he wants. you want to butcher his self control and unleash the animal underneath, the one he's so desperate to hide. it's what made you fall for him in the first place.

he merely looks at you boredly, taking another drag of his cigarette. you snatch it off him, bring it to your own lips. he looks at you with mild shock as you take a drag, and you blow the smoke out on his face.

it all goes smoothly until you cough, and he's snatching the cigarette away again, watching you almost amusedly.

"you can't even handle a cigarette," he remarks dryly, putting it out on the bedframe. and that one line finally ticks you off. almost as if on instinct, your hand pulls back and delivers a sharp slap to his face— making it turn to the side. he snorts, adjusts his glasses again before he looks at you, unimpressed.

"you've been waiting to do that, haven't you?" he asks. your nostrils flare with anger. you can't hurt him physically— but your tongue is sharp. you'll use it.

"you're one to talk about different stages in life," you add, leaning towards him. a smirk curls upon your face, "look at you. all that ambition and experience only to end up scamming people."

out of the need to provoke him, your hand shoots out, jabbing a finger to his chest.

"how would your mother feel if she found out?"

it's a low blow, and you would be ashamed if it hadn't worked. it does its work to finally get to him. he grabs your wrist, and harshly pulls you down towards him, knocking your breath out. he shoves you on the bed and hovers over you, panting slightly. you chuckle.

"my life is hard enough," he hisses sharply, body trembling with concealed rage. his gaze drifts down to your lips before settling upon your eyes again. "do you really want to keep testing me?"

you can't help but smile smugly as you stare at him. there he is— almost on the verge of losing his composure. a few more quips and you're sure he'll crumble. it makes your skin feel tingly. your face leans up slightly, your hungry gaze drifting down to his lips. your hand reaches up, pries his glasses off his face. and then you flick his nose.

"fuck you."

the way his mouth comes crashing onto yours is animalistic. he desperately kisses you with the passion of a madman— his tongue entering your mouth and messily colliding with your own. as if to tease him, you bite his bottom lip sharply and he pulls back, eyes widening as a small trickle of blood falls down the corner of his mouth. his hand pulls back and strikes you across the face, and you can't help but laugh. your cheek stings and feels like it's burning— and you're addicted. you hope he'll do it again. you look back at him with an almost crazed look in your eyes, and you can see it finally dawn upon him that he's finally giving you exactly what you wanted.

"you're enjoying this too much, you little minx—" he hisses, grabbing your neck and kissing you again. your hands immediately reach up to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons as you try to keep up with his pace. he pulls away and tosses his shirt to the side, and you take that opportunity to use all your strength to flip the two of you around so he's the one on his back. it makes him gasp, and you look down at him with darkened eyes— a finger teasingly running down his chest, making him let out a shudder.

he's the object of all your desires for as long as you've ever known. the man of your dreams, the man that you kept comparing every single one of your college boys to. no wonder they never seemed good enough. how could they? they were no match for this beautiful man laying under you.

with a newfound vigour your head drops to his neck, licking and kissing every inch of his skin. your hungry mouth trails down his chest, breathing in the smell of him, leaving greedy bites in its wake. the sounds your actions evoke out of him are downright pornographic— soft, breathless groans that make you want to consume him entirely. his hand comes down to your head, holding you in place as you worship his body— and you moan when his fingers dig into your scalp.

your lips leave a wet trail and cherry red bites down his torso, until you reach the waistband of his pants. teasingly, you mouth at his bulge, making him hiss in return. his hips buck up slightly and you place a soft kiss to the material before leaning up to his face. his hands wrap around your waist and he flips the two of you over again, desperately tearing away at your clothes.

"i shouldn't be doing this," he mutters under his breath, talking more so to himself than you. you raise your hips and he pulls your jeans down, a throaty groan escaping him at the sight of your panties. they're almost transparent from how wet you are. he frees himself from the confines of his underwear and you watch with fascination as he holds you down with a hand on your stomach. you're panting when he's pushing them to the side and entering you immediately— making you scream from the stretch.

he clenches his jaw, squeezes his eyes shut as he buries himself to the hilt with a grunt. you choke on a pained sob, your fingers digging into his back as he grabs the side of your face.

"it hurts—" you hiss through gritted teeth, a tear running down your cheek. it burns, and he waits a second before wordlessly pulling back and thrusting again. the pain morphs into pleasure soon enough, and you whine as he falls into an easy rhythm, wrapping your legs around his waist. you whine in return, and he gives your cheek a light slap, prompting you to open your eyes. your breath hitches as he looks at you intensely— his own eyes glassy.

"not that young now am i?" you grit out with a glare, crying out as he retaliates with a harsh, pointed thrust. "y-you're my first—"

"fuck," he moans, his head dropping down to your chest. his thrusts get quicker, voice raspy and low, "don't— don't say that—"

"i always wanted you to take my virginity," you moan, throwing your head back, dragging your nails down his back. it makes him hiss, "ever since i was a—"

he slams his hand on your mouth, refusing to allow you to finish your sentence. "shut the fuck up."

he doesn't want to be reminded of the age difference between you two, even though you can tell it gets him hot. the moment his hand clasps over your mouth, you cum with a loud moan. your body trembles but he keeps going— not allowing you a moment to breathe. his eyes are full of rage as he bares his teeth in anger. you chuckle breathlessly against his hand, your eyes fluttering. he looks like an angry cat— you want to kiss him all over his face. his thrusts eventually get sloppy— he's close.

you lock your legs tightly around his waist, and he smacks you again. it surprises you this time, and he takes that opportunity to pull out, jerking himself off quickly.

"i can't afford taking risks," he grunts, clenching his jaw. you whine in response, pouting slightly, and he gives you an exasperated glare before he's cumming all over your stomach with a shaky groan.

you pant heavily as you come down from your high, and almost as if on fire— he quickly dresses himself. he pulls out a handkerchief from his blazer pocket, gently wipes off the fluids on your stomach. he just watches you on the bed— his eyes examining his handiwork. you notice his gaze lingers on your cheek. after a few minutes, he wordlessly gets up and goes to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. you roll your eyes as you pull up your jeans too. a few moments pass, and you breathe a puff of air through your nostrils.

"are we going to talk about this?" you call out. there's no answer. you get up and rush to the bathroom door, except he's locked it. you can hear light splashing of water. you scoff in disbelief, going back to the bed. you lay on your side and grab a pillow, your lips wobbling as you go over everything that happened.

this was not how it was supposed to go. he was not supposed to seem this detached. you'd expected atleast a cuddle after sex.

you don't realize when you fall asleep. it's morning when you wake up— sunlight streaming in through the window and directly onto your face, making you wince. you stretch, look over your shoulder.

sangwoo isn't there.

you immediately go to the bathroom. it's empty, though the tub is full. you frown in confusion before turning back to the bed. there, a note on the side table has you stopping.

'i'm sorry,' it said, in his handwriting. placed along with it were a few won bills.

you sniffle as you stare at the note— the writing on it almost mocking you. you crumple it up, your fist shaking as you resist the urge to cry. suddenly, there's a knock on the door, and it makes your entire body stiffen.

a card slides from the little space under the door. the same one you remember the ddakji guy giving you. the shapes on it just look sinister now. the number on it is different this time.

your breathing gets heavy as you stare at it— your head beginning to hurt. you're sure you can hear your ears ringing.

you're alone. you wonder if leaving in the first place was a mistake. your feelings are conflicted— and worst of all, you feel used and betrayed. you're not sure if you should go back to the games. you're not sure if you could survive without any money.

sangwoo had left. you don't know where he is and you have nowhere else to go. no home, and you don't know how you would face your mother. you don't know how long the money he left you could go on.

you don't want to die. but you can't keep living like this either. you bite your bottom lip as you contemplate your options, the hurt from sangwoo's departure still lingering in your chest like a stab wound.

you pick up the card and place the call.

tags: @movienerd3000 @testdrivethv @leebyunghunswifey @nerdybarbariancupcake @neganhore @k1ra-park3r @vivdolls @wab-i @stantwicr @creativerambling @yasmim-1007 @makethemgirlsgoloco @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @captaincarmel416 @warlabels @ferrarifinnick @smlbch @izzyyann @meheheasasa @poooopy @endlessfl4mes @selfishlittlebeing @pillowtalk6 @antiromanticbaby @sky-forts-and-burning-citadels @flow33didontsmoke

#cho sangwoo #cho sangwoo x reader #park haesoo #squid game x reader smut #squid game fanfic #salesman x reader #frontman x reader #squid game x you #player 218 x reader #raven writes

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waywardfaceland · 30 days ago

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𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

PAIRING: BONTEN! MANJIRO SANO X READER

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In the big city night of Japan, a high organization criminal known as Bonten are currently on stroll. Now you may ask are they going to take over the world? No, they're just here to take a break cause why not, everyone deserves a break even if they are criminals.

"Boss, let's go back to the hideout, there's police on watch." Said Sanzu to his boss, Manjiro Sano, your first and last love who abandoned you without a word.

Manjiro sigh, he still wants to take a walk. It's been so stressful lately to him. He was about to walk away until he heard a familiar voice that made his heard pound and awake.

The voice who he really misses the most. The voice that he will do anything to protect.

You not far from him asked your friend companion beside you. You guys are infront of a botique store that sells clothing that suits your fashion.

"Look at this, Mika-chan. Don't you think it is cute on me?" You asked with giggidy on your voice.

"Yep! It's super cute on you! Why don't you buy it?"

"No, no. I need to save money for brother's medication. I can't just waste it on me." You said. Mike'y heard sadness in your voice.

"Why don't we go to your favorite restaurant? My treat!" Mika, your friends said dragging you away from the botique, from Mikey.

Mikey remember that you like shopping. You always force him to go shopping with you cause his sister, Emma, your bff is busy with Draken.

Feeling your presence is no longer near him, Mikey spoke "Sanzu, buy all the dress in this store and deliver it to Y/n's door step."

That was clear enough to everyone around him that Mikey is still into you.

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#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #angst with a happy ending #sano manjiro x reader fluff #bonten x reader #mikey x reader #manjiro sano #manjiro sano x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers angst #sano manjiro x reader angst #manjiro sano x reader angst #mikey x reader angst #read #followe me

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bloodcasket · 1 year ago

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“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ﾟ☾

PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!

WORD COUNT: 7.4K+

DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.

AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.

They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.

It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.

A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.

It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.

Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.

The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.

It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.

It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.

“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.

The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.

Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.

Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.

‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.

“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.

“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.

Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.

Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.

Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.

You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.

To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?

Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.

“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.

Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.

Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.

Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.

One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.

“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.

Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.

She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.

You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.

Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two…maybe three).

You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.

Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.

You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.

‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.

“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”

An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.

“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.

“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.

The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.

You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.

“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.

“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.

“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.

“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.

“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.

“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.

“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.

“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.

Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.

“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.

‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’

Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.

The ride to her apartment.

Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.

You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.

The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.

After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.

She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.

With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.

“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.

“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.

She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.

“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.

She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.

“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.

You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.

Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.

What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.

“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.

“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.

“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.

“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just…still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.

“How is it with, um…you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.

“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”

The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.

Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.

“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.

“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.

Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.

“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”

You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.

“No, I”-

Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.

“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.

She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.

Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.

“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.

You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.

“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”

The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.

The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.

Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.

“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”

But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”

And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.

With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.

Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.

Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.

Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.

“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.

She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.

“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.

You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.

“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.

“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.

She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.

“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.

A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once…then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.

Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.

“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”

“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.

“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.

But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.

“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.

“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.

You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.

“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.

Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.

“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.

Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.

“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”

She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.

“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.

The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.

A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.

“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”

As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.

Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.

“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”

Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.

Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.

The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.

“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.

#bloodcasket #resident evil smut #jill valentine smut #resident evil x reader #jill valentine x you #jill x reader #jill valentine fanfiction #jill valentine x reader #jill fanfic #lesbian

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ppssession · 4 months ago

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Mystic Shop: Leather Serum

Dale is a fat young man with a fairly good education and financial status.

But unfortunately, he was not so lucky in love. He likes men, but sadly, Sky, the man he loves, even though he likes men, doesn't like Dale.

Sky is a good guy. He is Dale's good friend. But he doesn't like Dale because Sky likes men who are good looking and have a good body, which is very different from Dale.

Today, Dale chooses to confess his love to Sky, but sadly, Sky rejects him.

Dale: Why, why don't you accept my love?

Sky: Sorry, my friend only thinks of you as a friend and besides, I have a boyfriend.

They talked in a restaurant, Lael's face showed disappointment before turning into resentment.

Dale: Yes, you like men who are handsome and have a good body, which is not me.

Dale leaves, leaving Sky behind. Despite the shouts, Dale ignores them and walks away with a burning anger in his chest.

Two weeks later….

Dale spends this time watching Sky live a normal life through social media. Eventually, he meets Sky's boyfriend through social media as well, which is him. His name is Moon.

Moon is a handsome man with a great body and is also very famous on social media. He has 900,000 followers. It is no wonder that he is the boyfriend of the lovely Sky.

Dale spent a long time thinking about his plan for revenge on Sky. He intended to get revenge on Sky, but he didn't like the violent methods that might land him in jail.

He walked out and thought of various plans to use for revenge until he came near an abandoned building.

He saw a strange red light coming from inside the building, he wondered what it was so he went into the abandoned building to look. After walking for a while, Dale found a mysterious shop in the abandoned building. He looked at the shop sign that was the source of the red light. "Mystic Shop, this shop will help you change." Dale read the name of the shop along with the description below before walking into the shop and met a young man wearing a black robe covering his face. "Hello, customer of destiny.

Dale asked curiously, “The storefront said that this store will help change. Tell me what does that mean?”

The robed man smiled and placed the catalog in front of Dale. “You can understand everything by reading the catalog.” Dale took the catalog and read it, finding it quite interesting.

The catalog clearly categorizes the products, but what is strange is that the categories and items include the following: possession, transformation, body swapping, special pets, and body suits.

All the products have instructions for use. Dale was most interested in the bodysuit section. He asked the clerk, “How can I trust what’s written on it?” Dale asked, suspicious and wary.

Man in robe: I can show you an example.

The robed man picked up a pill box. He swallowed one pill. Suddenly, his face distorted. The shape of his face, the position of his eyes, the shape of his face, all changed into another man. He spoke in a new voice, “How is it, customer?”

Dale was stunned by the sight before him. He was sure that everything on the list was real. Dale chose an item from the list in the bodysuit category.

The customer selected product number 428, body suit serum. The male employee walked to the back of the store and brought a long needle with clear liquid inside.

Inside, a male employee began to explain the product, a bodysuit serum. When she injects it into the body, the body will gradually become thinner, the internal organs will dissolve and merge with the body. The person being injected will gradually lose strength and lose consciousness. Then, the back of the person being injected will gradually open up, when the person being injected becomes a bodysuit ready to be worn.

Dale took the serum in his hand and asked if I could use it on anyone. The clerk quickly replied, “Of course.” Then Lall took out his wallet. I had to pay. Although the serum was quite expensive, he thought it was worth it. After paying, the clerk spoke up, “Customer, the serum you just bought is a temporary body suit type. Its effects will only last for 30 days, so please be careful.” Dale replied, “How can I make it permanent?” The clerk put on a superior face before answering, “It will be completed in a day. You can wait and come back tomorrow to get it for a little more money.

Dale's face darkened with resentment that could not be waited for, he quickly turned around and walked away. At first, he was going to use the serum on Sky to get revenge.

But he accidentally found Moon walking to the gym, he looked at Moon before smiling evilly, he followed Moon to the gym, luck seemed to be on his side, the gym owner was fixing the CCTV and all the staff were busy so no one paid any attention to Dale.

He watched Moon walk towards the changing room. As Moon took off her shirt, Dale locked the changing room door and attacked Moon. The serum was injected into Moon's back.

When Moon felt the attack before he could do anything, his body lost all its strength, his body slowly became thin like a deflated balloon, Moon's body collapsed to the ground, the direct view made Dale feel indescribably good, not long after, Moon's back slowly opened up, revealing a gap for another person to wear Moon's body.

Dale didn't hesitate, he quickly took off all of his clothes. Once he was completely naked, Dale pulled the moon bodysuit up and put it on both legs.

The feeling of Dale's legs going into the bodysuit made Dale feel indescribably good. He was so happy that he couldn't describe it. His penis was slowly hardening. Without delay, Dale slowly pushed his penis into the bodysuit. It felt like someone was using their mouth to masturbate Dale and it was like he was fucking someone.

Dale put both hands into the arms of the bodysuit and used his big hand to guide his part into Moon's head. When Dale's head was inside the bodysuit, the hole in the back slowly closed. When it was closed, the bodysuit fused with Dale's body. Moon's muscles slowly flexed. When the bodysuit was completely put on, Moon's face slowly opened. He was not the same Moon anymore, but a new Moon.

Without delay, Dale surveyed his new body. “Look at this bodysuit. It’s so nice. I’m sure no one would envy a body like this.”

Dale used his phone to text Sky. Dale: I'm sorry for being mean to you, I get it, I'm not your type. Sky replied to Dale's text shortly after. It's okay my friend, I understand you now. Great, now Sky has forgiven Lall and he is ready to go back to Sky in this new body. "This bodysuit will definitely help me a lot," Dale in the moon bodysuit said before packing up all his things and going back home to Sky.

Upon arriving at Sky's house, he warmly welcomed Moon as his lover, not knowing that this was Dale wearing Moon's bodysuit. Dale pretended to be Moon smoothly. He knew all of Sky's preferences and was able to answer all of Sky's questions before they went to bed. Sky slowly started to get closer to Moon, urging Rome to add more atmosphere.

Moon responded quickly, he pushed Sky onto the bed. He slowly climbed up and pressed Moon's thick body against his back, leaving the target of his pants on Sky's buttocks.

“I’ve always wanted it.” Moon slowly pulled down his pants, revealing his normally large penis that was released into the air. It bounced between his hot belly and Sky’s ass. Moon quickly thrust his penis into Sky’s ass without delay. Moans of pleasure filled the room.

Their moans were like a symphony in the air, Sky's asshole squeezing Moon's cock that was thrusting in greedily with every thrust. With each relentless thrust, he climaxed. Moon's cockhead released a thick, hot stream of semen into Sky's asshole. "Very good, baby, take all of my seed in."

After the hot sex, both of them fell asleep for a while before they both woke up at 7 am. Today, Moon's body woke up at 6 am, walked to the bathroom and locked it.

Moon grabbed the toy and managed to rip it open. The bodysuit was pulled down to reveal Dale's fat body. "I need to take a shower.

Moon grabbed his neck and successfully ripped it off. The tight-fitting suit was pulled down, revealing Dale's plump body. "I need to take a shower.

After taking a shower, Ple took Moon's bodysuit and cleaned it before putting it on again. He didn't forget to use his hand to grab his flaccid penis to make it hard before inserting it into Moon's dick. Even though Dale's dick was less than half of Moon's dick, when inserted, the bodysuit combined to make Dale's dick bigger to insert. Dale pulled Moon's head and put it on completely, destroying Lael's fat body, leaving only Moon, a famous person on social media, a handsome young man with an extremely hot body.

After putting on the bodysuit, he noticed Moon's hard cock, so he slowly masturbated. His hand grabbed the hard cock up and down, massaging it lustfully. It didn't take long for him to reach his climax, and his semen splattered all over his body. Moon used his tongue to clean Min. "It tastes so good." Not long after cleaning him again, he came out to get dressed.

Sky, Moon's little husband, woke up to find his handsome husband getting dressed. "Honey, where are you going so early in the morning?" Moon quickly replied, "I'm going to meet my advertising sponsor." Sky didn't suspect much since Moon sometimes has early morning business. Moon said, "If we're done talking, I'll text you, honey." He kissed Sky goodbye before leaving the room.

Dale, wearing Moon's leotard, walks to the Mystic Shop again. This time, he wants a serum that will permanently turn Moon into a leotard.

But Dale is having trouble, he can't access Moon's credit card and account because he doesn't have the code. While waiting for the clerk to bring him the permanent body suit serum, he looks at the catalog and finds a new section that makes him smile. When the clerk arrives with the permanent body suit serum, Moon orders the clerk again, speaking in a triumphant tone, "Take item number 555 (memory reading potion for body suits).

Finished as you know I had some personal problems that made me unable to write. Now everything is getting better and I can write again. Maybe not as often as before but I can definitely write again. Thanks, see you soon. Interesting story (This story is a request from my idol. I tried to put his personality into my work along with his personality. I hope he likes it. Hehe)

#male bodysuit #male body suit #male skinsuit #body theft #male transformation

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theastrical · 11 months ago

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Honeymoon with genshin men

honeymoon with genshin men! (their choices of destination, where do you guys stay at, and their action to showcase their love for you)

kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, alhaitham x reader

Kaeya’s Nobel Honeymoon

His plan is to make you feel like a royalty, as if you guys are indeed a heir to the crown or maybe the one holding the highest rank in the country. Well you two can only imagine right?

He bought a whole suite for you guys to stay in Airelles (Château De Versailles), France. The suite is called Suite Necker, It’s a beautiful suite, a magnificent one. The view is also wonderful, especially in spring.

He bought the suite for 4 nights, while he also makes sure both of you can have some fun times by participating in the palace tour or the dance in the royal ball.

Helps you whenever you need to fix your clothes, he also manage to fix any clothes malfunction, just incase it would embarrass you, he would fix it without you knowing; act of service is his passion.

Will take you out to some local choices restaurants, he pick the best one, not the one that are meant for tourist. He wants you to have the best food without thinking about the money you both spend over some tourist trap. (While eating, he would always prepare you and your food first, his? Later would be alright. He doesn’t eat his food when you haven’t start eating it)

Would photographed you across the city, the suites, the palace and everywhere you go. His excuse? “I just need to commemorate some beautiful things in here..”

Will buy some souvenirs you’re looking at, especially when you decide not to buy it. He would buy 3 kinds of it and pretend to also like it. Shows it to you (as a surprise) after you both get home from the honeymoon.

Diluc’s cottage dream

He rent a luxurious chalet, the name is chalet melilot. It’s Specifically placed near the mountainside of switzerland so you both can have morning stroll everyday in your honeymoon. Wants to be intact with mother nature since he thought it’ll be more private and sensational.

Thought it’ll be great if you guys also do some surveys around the country for housing if you both enjoyed the country environment.

He would hire a local chef to make you both three course meal for lunch and dinner, it’s all Switzerland’s traditional specialties. Specifically made using organic products and original recipe. He wants you to taste the best healthy and tasty meal, while savouring every each bite.

Every day when you guys walk around the mountain and feel even the slightest bit of cold, he would let you use his jacket, the scent is like firewood, so much like diluc.

At night, he would take you out to the city and even take shots of you using his polaroid. Every pictures he take is meant to be inside his small album of you and him (which he would present it, at the end of the joirney), he would pick the best pictures for his wallet. He seem to have everything in remembrance of you.

At the end of the honeymoon, he surprised you with a dog…a samoyed. It’s a cute thought, also an attentive one. “i know i wouldn’t always be at home and i’m sorry, this honeymoon make me realise that giving you my best is my priority and i will do so by giving you an accompany…this samoyed of our will be our forever accompany in this marriage okay…?”

Childe’s new home

Ajax didn’t like those romantic and sensational types diluc is into, he’s certainly into kaeya’s idea, but he wouldn’t want that either, it’s too cliché. He wants something traditional and refreshing to you. Something that he wants you to experience only with him, not exactly traditional, not exactly romantic, but certainly fresh. It’s not exactly the typical “honeymoon”, since his purpose is to make this trip unforgettable for both of you, and to learn everything about you both.

And that’s to travel around the world to search for a new home, he thought it’ll be better to stay in his hometown but for the sake of you, he wants to make a fresh new start. At your first stop, you guys explore Europe, especially around Sweden and Greece. The second stop is to explore around Asia, which is Mongolia and Vietnam. it’s such a fascinating trip for you both. The third stop is New Zealand, your once go-to-list. To live under these countries culture and to feel as one. You guys kept on trying to adapt to the new environment and it makes you both know each other’s habit easily.

You guys have stayed in numerous hotels and apartments. It’s not exactly romantic nor is it special, it’s both of your purpose to make this trip a whole get-away for newlyweds pressure and such. but makes it endearing is how you both eventually just fall asleep within each other embrace, just resting peacefully in ajax’s chest, while his arm delicately circled your waist. He’s a warm blanket and you’re his beloved plushies.

He would tie your shoes, help you with your bags or laundry, and over all, he’s the one helping you in any chores and in any given chance. He wants you to enjoy this trip without having the burden to do this and that. He just wants you to lay back and have your whole attention to him. Ajax only purpose is to see your smile at the end of the road.

When you both are just too exhausted to explore, you guys would order local take outs and eat it like a hungry fish would. He would laugh and you would teased him. It’s just a moment of laughter and satisfaction. No such a thing as workloads. Just you both having the time of your life together.

Zhongli’s relaxing party

This man’s honeymoon idea is exactly like how you imagine it. Boring but addictive at some way. you both would explore pretty gardens, lovely mountainsides, tea parties, and museum, at taiwan. It’s such a boring idea, but whatever make zhongli smile and whatever make you feel like at an old grandpa house is exactly what you called “the zhongli zone”. It’s comforting, being with zhongli, already feels like you’re being snuggled by a huge polar bear.

He’s such a sweetheart for always making the trip as…relaxing as possible, not wanting to pressure you with the family’s perspective of how newlyweds should act.

It’s not like you’re the one who’s pampering zhongli, he is also trying his best to be suitable enough as the one who court you first. He dips himself inside the hot spring while snuggling with you, he shops some random goods with you, and he also do tea testing by sharing the same cup as you. So relaxing…it makes you forget that you will continue to work again soon sigh.

“do you like this tea? I made this out of boredom and i saw you getting exhausted just by running through stores at the local shops…the goods are okay but i suggest you to keep your health the same, okay?”, this translates to “i’m worried about you, please don’t tire yourself. I want you to be as careful as you are with me when you take care of yourself.” Nonetheless, serves you the tea and even gives you a heartwarming kith on your cheeks.

he would buy you some keychains, handmade ones since he believes it’s more practical for it’s creativity and thoughts in it…also because he appreciates people’s handcraft. He still keeps your handmade bracelets even at your wedding day. he also picks you small pretty flowers when you both were strolling around the floral garden. Fresh and beautiful, just like you (he initially want to say this but he tries not to make it cheesy).

Silently serves you like a dutiful servant would. Makes you tea, cooks you meal, and makes sure you’re well rested. He always wants to pay back the things you did for him, he knows it’s not 100% the same, but he wants you to know that…this honeymoon is made especially for you. After covering you with the blanket and puts on some scented candles. He whispers at night when you were already asleep, “sorry i can’t be the best, but i’ll always be here when you need me. I love you.“

Alhaitham’s wonder of the world

You present him a ticket to travel Papua especially Raja Ampat for your honeymoon and he was so excited, he holds your hand with glimmering eyes…with a calm devoted look. He’s always been this way, hard to show his emotion, even when he’s screaming internally.

When you both arrived, he prepared everything for both of you so you don’t have to stressed out. He loves being the one in charge of itinerary, he loves to work on the schedules. You would see him humming with a straight face in his work office while he’s typing down the things you would do together as husband and wife.

he sets you both up to a diving session. He’s so excited he talks about it all night along. You can hear his yap even at the first day you got there. He loves nature, the sea, and everything inside that deep ocean. You were kind of scared of the ocean, you confessed that at first, and he looks at you with confusion before he say such a reassurance that makes you rethink if this is THE Alhaitham you’re thinking of. “if you’re scared, hold my hand and close your eyes..i promise, i’ll be there, beside you.”

That words he make instantly scarred your heart with love. You don’t even know how it makes you fall harder for him. But you did, you trusted him with your whole life, you hold his hands and he dive you into the sea-worlds. He giggles when he sees you all scared…he hugged you while you both dive so you won’t be scared or sink when you’re not in his watch. “don’t be coy now…trust me, i won’t let you out of my sight.”

When you got back home…you don’t even know how he made you so in love. Sigh…alhaitham, the man you are..

Taglist; @esthelily @indarius @n0tamused @sangoqueenkoko @voidlesslove @lyralibra @eroxotckv @rikasurl @dailypenpen @daydreaming-paradies

#zhongli x reader #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #kaeya fluff #diluc fluff #zhongli fluff #childe fluff #alhaitham fluff

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best-cafe-in-bergen-county · 2 years ago

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#lunch café near me #restaurant in bergen county #breakfast café near me #exotic cafe latte in ridgewood #café bergen county #coffee shop with smoothies #delicious food and soup #organic food café #fresh squeezed juices

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 months ago

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Patchwork

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so… ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn’t seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky’s nurse whenever he gets hurt. Based off my mini fic here.

Stitched Together | Pull the Thread | In Stitches | Frayed Edges | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

It had been weeks since that night where you dad almost caught Bucky at your place. Since then, Bucky deterred his people (and himself) from going to you if they needed medical aid. Not only were your dad's people still casing around your neighborhood, but that night really solidified that things definitely weren't meant to be for you and Bucky.

You were living a content and normal life and he was ruining it for you...again. He didn't want to bring you into his shit, but dammit did he miss you. His heart being pulled in your direction whenever you were near.

He pulled away from you before. He could do it again no problem and you can go back to living your life again. You wouldn't have to sneak around behind your dad's back and he wouldn't have to worry about anyone using you against him.

It'll be fine.

Sacrifices needed to be made if he wanted to continue living this life.

________________________

You're pissed off. Bucky has left you on read for weeks. After your dad left that night, you checked on Bucky. Only he wasn't in your room anymore. He snuck out the window only leaving you a note and wad of cash.

You texted him asking if he got home safe and all he did was give you a thumbs up. When you asked if he could come by so you can check on his stitches, he just read the text and didn't respond.

The first few days you were worried that he might've died. But then you randomly ran into Sam at a restaurant and asked if Bucky was okay.

"He's fine. That's all I can say."

"Seriously? That's all you can say?"

He shrugged at you, "Sorry, Y/N, but I have some business to attend to," he gestured to the man across from him, who stared at you with pleading eyes.

"Right. Sorry," you apologized and went back to your table to continue your meal.

You texted Bucky: So did you tell your people they can't talk to me now?

Read

You grumbled and tossed your phone back into your bag, stuffing your face with food to feel better.

Now several weeks have gone by and you've just been pissed to no end. You do your best to not let what happened with Bucky affect your job, but your fellow nurses can see something is wrong.

They did their best to try to get any info out but all you said was that you were essentially ghosted by a friend. That's as much as you could tell them because there was no way you were going to tell that your ex-boyfriend now mob boss of Brooklyn came back into your life and you were providing medical aid to him and his group on the down-low and then he suddenly disappeared on you, only leaving you on Read and it's pissing you off.

Pretty sure if you told them that, word would reach your dad and you were not going to deal with that.

So you just went with being ghosted by a friend and left it at that.

If only you knew Bucky wasn't doing any better.

To everyone in his organization, they could see how on edge he was.

Every time he looked at his phone, there was a gleam of hope in his eyes and then his gaze hardened. His jaw would clench and he would pocket his phone immediately.

They were all confused on why they suddenly weren't allowed to go to you for medical aid. All Bucky had told them was that they "just can't anymore and that's final."

Sam was the most confused. Usually, being Bucky's right hand, he knows everything behind Bucky's reasoning for things. But for this, Bucky didn't tell him anything. Jack shit.

He wanted to help Bucky whatever was going on and not just because Bucky was Sam's boss but also because they're friends. But all Sam got when he asked what down between you and Bucky was "shit happened is all" not giving any hint of what said "shit" was.

All Sam could tell was that there was a dullness in Bucky that he'd never seen before.

_________________

America and Cassie suggested the three of you go out. It was a Friday night and you weren't working the next morning. So you three dressed your best and went to a club that just opened.

It took about forty-five minutes to finally enter the club but it definitely wasn't a disappointment. There were three levels, each filled with people sitting and drinking, the dance floor crowded as music was booming all around.

America led you to the bar, a round of shots to start the night. You clinked the shot glasses with a exclamation of "Cheers!" before downing the clear liquid.

You were then lead to the edge of the dancefloor, the three of you moving your bodies to the music. You felt yourself loosening up as the alcohol made its way through your system and you got into the rhythm of the music.

The night continued on like that. More shots, more dancing, the occasional potty break that took an hour long each time because the line for the women's bathroom was always long. You didn't even know how many shots you'd taken, but you were definitely feeling a little loosey goosey now.

The three of you eventually found yourselves on the third floor of the club. It was restricted to VIPs but America started chatting with a very gorgeous woman and she ended up inviting all three of you to her table she was sharing with some friends. When you reached said table, your eyes widen when you see one of her friends happens to be Bucky, with a beautiful woman sitting on his lap.

In your inebriated state, you went off on him.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN , HUH?! AND WHY THE FUCK HAVEN'T YOU BEEN ANSWERING MY TEXTS?! I WAS WORRIED AS SHIT AND HERE YOU ARE COZYING IT UP AT A NIGHTCLUB?!"

The entire group look between you and Bucky. America asks, "You know him?!"

Bucky shoots up from his seat, apologizing to the woman who was previously on his lap, "Sweetheart, not here."

"OH FUCK YOU! YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO ESPECIALLY AFTER ALL THE TIMES I-MFF" Bucky cups his hand over your mouth and gives you a stern look.

"You're making a scene!" He then yelps when you bite him, "The fuck, Y/N!"

"YOU DESERVE MORE THAN THAT YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

The beautiful woman who was on his lap asks, "Are you guys together or something?"

"No!" you both respond in unison.

You glare at Bucky and he sighs, "Fine. Let's talk. We'll go to my office."

"Your off-you own this club?!"

Bucky smirks, "Co-own with my friend, Steve. Now come on before you make a bigger scene." He grabs your hand and you slap at his hand.

"Don't touch me! I can follow you just fine!" You turn back to America and Cassie, "I'll be back."

"You want us to come with you?" Cassie asks.

You shake your head, "It's fine. I'm safe with him...I hope," and you continue to follow Bucky before they ask anymore questions.

____________________

In Bucky's office, you sit on a plush couch, frowning, arms crossed over your chest.

Bucky closes the door and gets a proper look at you, making it very clear he's checking you out. Which pisses you off even more.

"Stop looking and get to explaining, Barnes! I thought something bad happened to you and then I see Sam and all he says to me is that you're fine. Literally, what the fuck, Bucky. If I did something wrong, then at least tell me and not leave me on fucking Read!"

He sighs and runs a hand over his face, "You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart."

You shoulders sag and you look at him sadly, "Then why won't you talk to me?"

Fuck. Bucky's resolve is weakening as you look at him with sad eyes but you also look so gorgeous at the same time.

"It's-I-" he groans, "Fuck, sweetheart, I shouldn't have come back into your life."

"Why?"

"Because it's not gonna go how I want it to. We can't be in each other's lives again. It's not meant to be. I'm a criminal and you're the daughter of the chief of police! Everything I've worked hard for, your dad wants to take down. Not to mention, I'm putting your life in danger just from you knowing me."

"I'm a grown ass woman, Bucky, I can do whatever I want!"

"Would you tell your dad that we're friends again?" He asks with a serious expression on his face.

You gulp, staring at him as you think of what to say. He nods, "Exactly. That night when you helped me and your dad came over, it hit me that it'd always be like that. Sneaking behind your dad's back, not wanting to upset him and me not wanting you to get hurt because of the life I lead. We're doomed, sweetheart. You gotta accept that."

"I don't want to," you murmur sadly, "I like having you in my life again."

"Me too, sweetheart, but these are the cards we're dealt with," he helps you stand to your feet, "Want me to help you find your friends?"

You shake your head sadly, "No."

"Okay. Stay safe out there, sweetheart."

You lean in and peck Bucky on the cheek, "You too, Buck," and you see yourself out of his office, allowing tears to run down your cheeks when you close the door behind you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine

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