#someone asked me out last summer and i was upset about it for weeks

[specialmouse]

You know .

[dollfacefantasy]

LIGHT OF THE FULL MOON ♡

pairing: werewolf!chris redfield x fem!reader

summary: your husband hasn't been the same since coming back from his latest mission. you struggle to understand the cause, not wanting to believe the worst. on the night of a full moon, tensions peak and you're determined to find out the truth.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, knotting, monsterfucking, predator/prey, breeding kink, size kink, dacryphilia, PTSD mention

wc: 6.5k

a/n: long awaited but i hope you guys like! happy almost halloween <33 reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated :)

kinktober slot: day 30 - monsterfucking

Your husband had been acting strange lately.

Not the typical mid-life crisis kind of strange. There was no new Ferrari parked in the garage, nor had Chris begun to dedicate his time to a niche hobby like roller skating. His behavior was much more... off-putting than those things would be. That was the only way you could think to describe it.

It all began at the beginning of this last Summer when he came home from a short mission.  The trip spanned two weeks and took him up to a sparse, expansive piece of the Canadian wilderness. You weren't especially worried about him while he was gone. You were more upset about the fact that he was going to miss your wedding anniversary than anything else.

Your lack of concern didn't come from a place of callousness. Rather the opposite. You'd been an agent too. It was how you and Chris met. Before a stray bullet to your thigh knocked you out of commission, you had field assignments of your own. You knew that they were only made more stressful when you had someone at home you know worries about you.

So you never did. You trusted that he'd come back to you in one piece like he always does.

This time he did come back in one piece. Walked through the front door like usual with his bag slung across his back and his arms ready for you. You crossed the foyer and sprung yourself against his chest, your smaller arms wrapped around his bulky abdomen.

"I missed you, baby," he murmured, pecking your temple and engulfing you with his thick arms, "My beautiful wife of... how many years is it now?"

You rolled your eyes at the joke and tapped his arm. It was when you followed him back to your bedroom to put his stuff down that your eyes widened and caught on his forearm.

"Jesus! What happened to you?" you asked and took the limb in your hands.

Just below his elbow was a sizable bite. You could tell the type of injury from the crescent pattern of the cuts. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably came from a dog, but you'd never seen a canine with a jaw so large. The wounds were deep red, scabbed over by this point. The nearby skin glowed with the color of injury. You could tell whatever had got him, sunk its teeth in deep.

He looked down at the afflicted area and then back at you before shrugging. "It's nothing. You know how it goes. Those things can be rabid, but I'll heal up in a few days."

Your pupils continued to scan his flesh uncertainly. "I guess..." you conceded.

His statement was true. That wasn't your problem. Of course, you'd seen him with bites before. You'd even been bitten yourself on the job. But it never looked like this. So... gruesome. Upon looking closer, you could see tiny sprawls of plum-tinted veins accompanied by dark patches of discolored skin.

"They treated you, right? You're sure it's not infected?" you checked again.

"Honey, it's fine. C'mon, I know you missed me, but you don't gotta freak out about this," he dismissed in kind.

Despite his claims, he let you fuss over him. You were hesitant to even touch the markings, afraid of causing him pain or irritating the skin further.

He didn't seem to be hurting though. In his recovery, he never complained of aches or stings or throbs. Never held it closer to his body than normal or relied on his left arm to perform tasks. It did eventually heal. He was left with little white patches of scar tissue, but the other array of colors faded.

The only reason you had to believe that this incident triggered his change in behavior was that he began to act differently a few weeks later. 

It started with his sleeping habits.

The Chris you knew slept the whole night through. Rested against your back, spooning you. His body heat radiated from him like a space heater for a solid eight hours every night. He'd wake up with his face nestled in the crook of your neck and plant a few kisses there before pulling away to get up and go about his morning routine.

But now he didn't even come to bed before you'd fallen asleep. His side of the mattress would be vacant when you woke up as well. At first it left you to question whether he'd been there at all. Now though, you're certain he's doing something else during the nocturnal hours. The only thing you couldn't figure out was what that other thing could be.

The next piece of this puzzle came in the way he started eating.

Since that mission, he seemed to have a craving for meat. Red meat. Burgers, steaks, whatever you had in the house. He wanted it all and in large portions. Not only that, but the way you cooked it didn't suit his tastes anymore. You sat across from him at the dinner table with wide eyes as he ate the food you'd prepared to his request. A steak so rare it looked like blood leaked from the raw slab out onto the plate.

Anytime you'd ask about any of this, he'd brush you off with a new excuse. He was just sleeping less now. He'd stayed up later playing a video game. He was waking up earlier to try a new running regime. The food thing was just something his friend told him about and he wanted to try. Supposed to build protein and lower your bmi or some bullshit.

That stuff you could have overlooked, but then he started to look different.

You wanted to blame his new diet for the sudden thickness with which his body hair grew. And perhaps his new workout schedule effected him as planned and could explain the way he was bulking up and nearly popping out of his shirts with gained muscle mass. You weren't so sure though.

If anything, you tried to pin this on your own mind. You were being paranoid. Life wasn't some horror movie. Monsters did exist, but you'd seen them already. They didn't look like this. Right?

And in his defense, not all the changes you'd noticed were bad. Your life in the bedroom had grown much more interesting since his return.

That day he came back, you figured it was his way of making up for your missed anniversary. He'd pounded into you for hours. Rutted into your poor little cunt till it was sore and puffy, struggling to take his thick shaft. What you would've believed to be an impossible amount of arousal coated your inner thighs and soaked the bed sheets beneath you by the time you were done. You knew he had stamina, but for those hours, Chris seemed like another animal entirely.

Every time since then had been similar. They didn't last as long as your reuniting session, but they were just as passionate. He was so much rougher than he'd ever been before. Typically, your husband was overly-cautious with you. Every move he made had his size and strength in mind when deciding the amount of force he'd use to manhandle your legs or snap his hips against your ass.

Now he fucked without a care in the world. His teeth scraped against your neck hard enough to mark. His fingertips left bruises accompanied by the scratches from his nails.

He also came inside you now every time without fail. Since you started taking the pill not long after the two of you started dating, that had always been his favorite place to release. But how he would do it lately... you didn't know any other word for it but primal. When he came, he buried himself inside you. Every inch of his cock filled the snug space between your walls. He growled as it shot out of him, rope after rope. He stuck to you like he wanted to make sure not a drop leaked out or went to waste.

So on that end of things, you didn't mind his shift in personality. It only became a problem when he started going out so often.

He told you a myriad of different places he went to or groups he hung out with, but you didn't believe him. You doubted Jill wanted to see him at ten p.m. on a Wednesday, and you struggled to accept Leon needed some form of help that took him eight hours of the night.

It was always dark out when he was gone, and then there would be certain days of the month that he didn't come back until well into the next morning. That was what drove you crazy. You'd never felt such distrust in your husband before. You always believed him to be faithful. You didn't worry about other women or being replaced or a number of other things your friends complained about with their spouses. You and Chris were a team.

But that vision shattered when you decided to test out the validity of his alibis one night. It hadn't been planned. You always thought loyalty tests were for insecure people, but you hoped that's all you were now. This was just a bout of insecurity, not anything to be truly worried about.

You saw Chris left his phone on the kitchen counter one night, and the idea just sprung into your head. As if the devil himself whispered the words into your ear, you typed out a message to Leon, the man he was supposedly hanging out with.

"Hey, Chris left his phone here. Will you let him know I'll just swing by to drop it off if he's gonna be with you for a while? If he'll be back soon, I can just wait. Thanks :)"

With a shaky thumb, you clicked the send button. You paced around your kitchen while waiting for the response. It didn't arrive instantly. Leon took around ten minutes to get back to you.

"Hey. Chris isn't with me tonight. I'm sorry."

Your legs came to a stop. You clutched both phones so tight that they were in danger of shattering. The ten minutes wasn't spent talking with your husband or doing whatever you thought they did together. It was probably Leon trying to decide if he should cover for him or be honest with you. At least he chose the latter.

You didn't send anything back to the D.S.O. agent. Instead, you went to bed, leaving Chris's phone on his bedside table. You curled up under your blankets. The emptiness of half the mattress caused you physical pain that night. Your eyes shut over the building gloss of tears.

That was a week ago.

Chris had still been going out every night and rotating in one of his friends' names as his unknowing accomplices.

Tonight, you decide that this is it. You're not going to be the sad little wife who's just happy she gets to keep the house while her husband goes out and plays with the other woman. You're done being fed lies and pretending you believe them. You're done being treated as disposable in your own marriage.

When he tells you he's leaving tonight, you say no. He's already been acting weird today, skittish and jumpy, constantly watching the clock. You aren't just going to sweep it under the rug this time. This conversation will get to the bottom of it.

You glare at him from where you're sitting on the couch, watching as confusion overtakes his features. Rarely are you ever firm with Chris. You know how to stand up for yourself, but he rarely gives you a reason to act any kind of strict.

"You're not leaving yet," you repeat.

His expression doesn't change. He stands at the beginning of the hallway to the front door, waiting for you to explain your sudden attitude. It's already getting late. The sky outside is pitch black except for the light of the full moon.

"Tell me where you're going," you demand.

"Out with Leon."

Your expression darkens. "Why are you lying to me?" you ask next.

He's got a phenomenal poker face because not a hint of doubt shows anywhere on his exterior. He doesn't look away, doesn't fidget. All he does is step closer to you, reentering the living room.

"Why would you think that?" he asks, voice calm.

"Because Leon told me you haven't been with him at all," you fire back and stand up. You bolster your proof with exaggeration, but you're confident enough that you're right.

Now a reaction does show on Chris. You can see his jaw clench and his gaze sharpen. This wasn't going to be as easy to talk his way out of as he thought.

"I really don't have time for this tonight," he says.

Your anger is getting ready to boil over into fury at his dismissal.

"Really? Because all I have anymore is time! You leave me here alone every single night! I feel like I barely see you anymore," you say, "I'm supposed to be your wife, but I feel like I'm the side piece at this point."

"You think I'm cheating on you?" he scoffs, disgusted by the suggestion alone.

"What else am I supposed to think?" you explode, raising your voice now, "You don't tell me anything! You just leave to who-fucking-knows where every single night and expect me to be fine with that? I'm not."

"Calm down," he says. His own voice grows firm. He glances down at the time on his watch. His pupils move quickly, looking almost antsy.

"Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than this conversation?" you ask incredulously.

"I told you I don't have time for this. We can talk tomorrow," he says. His words come out with more bite which just stokes the flames of your temper.

"No. You can just tell me now," you say and cross your arms, "If you leave without telling me anything, then maybe consider telling your girlfriend to prepare for you to move in with her soon!"

"Give me a fucking break! I am not cheating on you!" he snaps, letting his voice boom, "There is no girlfriend. There's no one else I'm going to!"

He looks more upset now. Some definite anxiety mixed in with his irritation. He looks like he just wants to get out. You wonder if it's the panic of you closing in on the truth or something else that's bothering him. It makes you soften your approach the smallest bit. You sigh.

"Just give me something then. Something that will give me some peace of mind," you reason. You'll accept a half answer at this point. All you want is some semblance of explanation as to why he's going out every night.

But all he does is stare at you. It brings your temper back up, the uncomfortable feeling rising between your lungs.

"Just one thing, Chris! One fucking thing."

"I can't." His voice is strained as if he's trying to keep calm.

"Why?" you ask, flinging your arms up in frustration.

"I just can't. We'll talk about it tomorrow," he says.

With that, he turns to leave. You stand there stunned. But the shock only lasts a moment.

"You're leaving because I'm right and you can't think of a lie so quick!" you shout at him.

He doesn't even look back at you. His steps thud down the hall to the exit of your home. You can't stand it. How could he do this to you? This isn't the man you married. That guy never would have treated you like this.

Before you can even think about it, you're dashing after him. As mad as you are, you can't just let him leave. You love him. Nothing in the world will hurt more than him leaving.

He's moving fast, determined to get out as swiftly as he can, but you're quick too. You'd spent years of your life chasing mutated creatures that could sprint on all fours. Catching up to your husband was nothing.

You reach out for his arm and grab him at his elbow. Your eyes widen at the intensity with which he reacts. He jerks away as if the touch burns.

"Stay away from me," he says. The words don't even sound like his voice. They come out so deep. Almost like a snarl.

Accusations of infidelity are forgotten at this point because all you can feel now is concern.

"Chris... are you alright?" you ask in a much softer voice than you'd been speaking with before.

You reach for him again, barely laying a hand on his shoulder. It's like the touch knocks him back. He nearly trips over his own feet, crashing against your front door but failing to get it open. His shoulders heave, muscles in his back convulsing. A light sheen of sweat breaks out across his forehead.

This time you figure it's best if you stay back. All you did was touch him, but he seems as if he's going to be ill. You stand a few feet away, watching him nervously. His arms come up to cover his face, which blocks your view and prevents you from guessing what's wrong.

"Honey?" you try again gently.

"Get away from me," he rasps, "Leave. Go far away before you can't."

You're back to being lost. You try to think of what this could be. Maybe PTSD? Was he having some sort of flashback? You had accidentally touched the bite.

"I'm not going to leave. You know you can trust me. I'm always here for you. I just want to understand," you coax.

"It's not you I don't trust," he says. He breaks down into a coughing fit and his back arches. It looks like he's trying to restrain himself.

"Just tell me what you need," you say quickly, determined to help him through this, "Anything. Do you need water? Do you need me to call someone?"

Truly, you're lost on possible solutions. This doesn't look like any common sickness you'd seen. It looks more like an infection someone would get in the field. And upon realizing that, panic strikes your heart.

You don't get the chance to voice any fear though because he speaks first.

"Just get out of here," he growls, "Everything you do makes it worse."

Your heart pounds in your ears. What could this be? Did he have some kind of virus and didn't tell you? Maybe his unit was treated with faulty drugs. What if he had lied about getting that bite looked at? Your mind swirls with all these thoughts, and your breathing speeds up to match their pace.

You step back a little, but you're still hesitant to go. Never leave a man behind. That'd been drilled into you since the day you enlisted. You couldn't just leave him to suffer or maybe die. Especially not this man, your man.

You're about to say something else. You take a deep breath and conjure some words of reassurance.

But it's too late.

By the time you look back at him, you see the hair on his arms coming in thicker. It sprouts out another inhumane inch. His nails rise a little bit. The panic inside you courses through your veins with more intensity.

"What's happening to you?" you choke out.

"I told you to go. I wanted to leave. But you told me to stay," he grunts, still trying to conceal his face.

You're stunned into silence, trying desperately to think of what to say. All that comes out are the same words, repeated with a deeper sense of urgency. "What's happening to you?"

He tries to respond, but a strained groan erupts from him.

His body spasms. The seams of his shirt split as his shoulders broaden and muscles puff out. You watch in horror as your husband seems to transform. And then he finally turns his face and looks into your eyes. 

It's the stare of an animal looking at you.

Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle a cry you let out. For years, you thought you escaped your time as an agent mentally unscathed. Besides the occasional nightmare, you never dealt with flashbacks or survivor's guilt. Your damage was purely physical. The bullet to your leg had been it for you. But now, everything was rushing back. Every set of sharp, gnashing teeth. Every creature that lunged at you with its insides on the outside. Every person that should be dead stumbling towards you and trying to bite. All of them, running laps around your frayed mind.

The only thought you could conjure while looking at him was that one of those things was in your house.

You stumble backwards in terror, watching as he rises to his feet. He stands taller than normal. His tattered shirt falls away, his pants holding on by a thread. He's more hairy. His eyes look more intense.

"What are you?" you cry, hot tears beginning to roll down your cheeks.

His now-golden eyes continue to stare at you. The black slits his pupils had morphed into makes you nauseous. His chest is still heaving. It looks like he's resisting the urge to pounce on you.

"What's the matter? I thought you said we're in this together?" he growls.

"Chris!" you sob, "What is this? What did they do to you?"

"You know how it goes, baby," he manages to answer, "I got infected, and they don't know how to treat it yet."

"Why- why didn't you just tell me that?" you whimper, trembling violently.

"You think I wanted to see you looking at me like this? LIke I'm a goddamn monster."

"I'm sorry-" you say instantly, but he cuts you off. He's not interested in hearing that at the moment.

"I wouldn't cheat on you. I never would. I've been going out every night cause there's only two things that make this shit go away," he says, his words becoming more labored as he fights the urge to give into the infection.

"What are they?" you sniffle and wipe at your eyes.

"I go out every night to feed," he starts.

Another cry escapes you at the mere picture it puts in your head. There's no way in hell you're going to ask what - or rather who - he feeds on.

"But tonight, I can't because you didn't want me going out. So I guess we'll have to try the other thing," he rasps.

Your lip quivers violently. Why did he say we this time? You wait with baited breath to learn of your fate.

"You're gonna let me breed you," he says, eyes nearly burning two little holes into you with the heat in his gaze.

You feel like fainting at the idea. Your arms fall to your sides limply. Fear prickles up your spine and into your lungs. It feels like chains are wrapping around your torso, threatening to break your ribs. You could barely look at him like this. How were you supposed to...

"I- I don't know, Chris," you stammer out through tears.

"Well I do. We're gonna do this, or things are gonna get really ugly here," he says. It's a warning, not a threat, which makes it so much more real to you.

You're frozen again, unsure of what to do.

"I'll give you a head start. I need the chase," he says.

You stutter at first, unsure if you should take the opportunity to escape or try to reason with him some more. Though in the few seconds it takes you to contemplate this, it really looks like he's losing control, so you decide to take your chances running.

Whipping around, you bolt down the hall towards the back door. You'd have to leave that way since he was blocking the other point of exit. You plan your route in your head just like you used to during missions. 

There's also always the alternate possibility of darting up the stairs and getting the gun from the bedroom, but you aren't sure if bullets work on him, let alone if you could bring yourself to use it. Even in this new form, you still love him. You don't want to lose him.

So instead you practically rip the backdoor off its hinges before prancing across the porch and into the yard. The air outside is cooler, bringing a chill over you as your feet pad through the soft grass below.

You're in the process of hopping over the fence when you hear the door crash open again. He's after you now.

Breaths leave you in harsh puffs. Your limbs go taut with the instinct to survive. Despite the laser focus of your mind, you still feel shrouded in fear. Where are you running to? What are you going to do when you get there?

You couldn't just run to a neighbor's house. Chris might tear through them like this, and you don't want anyone getting hurt. But there's nothing else. You don't live close enough to any place that could help. Whatever mutation he had would probably aid him in tracking you, so you doubted hiding was an option. He looks more than strong enough to scale a tree.

It doesn't seem like there's any way to escape, but you keep sprinting, hoping for a miracle.

You're fast, but you can still hear your husband barreling towards you from behind. You leap over a log in your way and twist around rocks. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the big chunk of wood go flying seconds later. Then you hear a whoosh in what you assume is him leaping the boulder.

A small whimper leaves you, but you still keep going. You run in a straight line to keep your speed up. Your eyes stay locked straight ahead. He hasn't caught you yet. You can do this.

But interrupting your internal pep talk, the muscles in your thigh seize up, and you shriek. You go toppling to the ground, hitting it with a hard thud. It knocks the wind out of you. Your fingers claw at the dirt as you gasp for air.

This is why you were taken out of the field after your injury. If this happened out there, you'd be seconds away from death.

Right now though, you don't die. In lieu of the force of mortality, your husband crashes on top of you. You scream when he knocks into you. His large arms wrap around your body as the two of you roll across the grass. The struggle ends with him on top, grinning down at you with sharp canines in view. His chest puffs with the exertion it took to get here.

When you catch sight of his face, you wail louder. His features are somehow more pronounced, and a pair of pointed ears have sprouted atop his head. This is worse than any nightmare you've had before. You thrash beneath him, smacking your fists against his chest and jabbing your knees into his sides.

None of your fighting affects him. He wrestles your arms into place with ease and gets your legs to stop with his own, handling you as if you're merely throwing a silly tantrum.

"My sweet little wife," he rasps as he brings his face down to nose at your neck. He groans, his hips bucking as he takes in a breath of your scent. "You tried so hard, but you knew you wouldn't win."

His hand snakes down to massage the cramping muscles in your thigh. He knows just how to soothe them. Even with the rougher quality of his skin and longer nails, his digits move like they did just after you got surgery. Must be muscle memory.

He coos at your tears, nuzzling them away. "Shh, shh, shh, little one," he hushes, "You're gonna be fine. There's no safer place for you than with me."

You keep turning your head away, not wanting to look at him like this.

"Keeping those pretty eyes closed won't save you," he says.

You whimper, now trying to squirm away from him. Like before, he simply wrangles you back into place. He holds you down with one forearm across your collarbone, making you feel doubly pathetic. You push at the limb, but it's of no use. It may as well have weighed 1000 pounds the way you're simply unable to move it.

His free hand comes down to your belly. His warm palm spreads out over it. He holds it there for a moment, feeling how your stomach moves with each breath you take. Then his fingers slice upwards. His nails tear through your thin shirt like scissors through wrapping paper.

You shiver as he yanks it free, leaving your upper-half nude to the night air. Instantly, his hands paw at your breasts. He gropes them, fingers digging into the plump flesh and squeezing them together. His mouth stays at your neck. He kisses the skin, but his movements are sloppy. He laps at your pulse point, heavy breaths fanning over the wet area.

Despite your fear, the touches still stir feelings of desire within your body. You moan softly as his canines scrape along your throat. He chuckles lowly at the sound.

"You smell even better when you're a little scared," he says.

Your pants are next to go. He shreds them into pieces, letting them fall off your figure onto the grass. You squeak at the sound of the denim tearing.

He grinds down on you harder. His hips roll with such force it feels like he's trying to meld you with the ground. The movements draw a longer whine out of you, which in turn sends a rush of arousal through him.

You feel his bulge filling out against your center. It seems larger than ever before. After all these years of marriage, you know what his cock feels like. You've committed every detail to memory, and right now isn't matching up. You wrap your arms tighter around his abdomen out of the instinct to seek comfort from him. He does the same with to you, keeping you flush against his large frame for a few moments.

But then he lets you go. He pulls back and pushes down the remnants of his pants, freeing his cock from its confines. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the sight of the engorged shaft. It's longer for sure, but it's so much fucking thicker. His balls look heavier too, hanging proudly beneath.

You don't get much time to examine it because he's back on you in an instant.

"You're gonna take it so well, baby," he mutters against your lips before capturing them in a kiss.

You mewl, overwhelmed by his body all over you and his tongue intruding into your mouth. Kissing back reluctantly, you feel his middle finger slot between your folds and press down. His sharp nail cuts a perfect slit in the damp fabric over your pussy. You shudder as now you can feel the air hitting your slick.

His cock soon interrupts that sensation as he slides it against your wetness. He rocks it up and down through your arousal. You're so hot there, between your thighs. He angles his hips downward and slides his length into you.

You gasp before gritting your teeth. Your fingers clump fistfuls of grass against your palms. He's so much bigger. It's always a stretch, but this feels like the first time all over again. You can't even squirm because his large hands keep a firm hold on your hips.

The new size also affects him. A deep groan rumbles in his chest, and he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. Inch by inch he fills you up completely. It's nearly unbearable by the time he bottoms out. Your lip wobbles and more tears stream down your cheeks freely. They blur your vision, but it doesn't matter much as your eyes flutter anyways.

He can feel the shake of you crying, smell the salt of your tears. Neither make him slow down or stop. He digs his fingers into the dough of your hips harder, keeping you steady as he ruts into you.

"My fuckin' mate. Could never want anyone else," he grunts. He fucks into you a few more times before nipping at your neck and then continuing. "You're ok, baby. You were made for this. Made to take me."

You shriek as a particular snap of his hips shoves the head of his cock right up against your cervix. Cries accompany your tears now. Loud sobs pour from your mouth in a deluge.

He lets you be noisy. The large grassy field behind your house provides the room for you to scream as loud as you need. No one would be bothering you out here. Even if they did, it's not like they could do anything to stop Chris.

Your walls spasm around the veiny shaft that pulls in and out of your drippy hole, desperate to acquiesce to the large intrusion. His rhythm is already so quick. He pistons into you like he's in a rush; like if you're not bred here and now, he won't survive, which isn't far off from the truth.

You feel hot breaths against your throat. They come out quicker than the knocks of his pelvis against your ass. Noises akin to growling scratch at the back of his throat but never fully erupt.

"It's too much!" you finally wail, hoping for some sort of reprieve.

None is granted to you though. More broken sobs explode into the night air, but his face stays planted against your neck just as his cock stays nestled in your cunt.

"It's not too much," he finally mutters after a few seconds, "You're gonna take it all, and then you're gonna take my seed. Gonna take my pups, and you're gonna look perfect doing it."

Your body involuntarily squirms at the notion. You and Chris had both come to the decision that kids weren't for you. With his work and the mileage on your body from your own, the two of you decided to forgo that part of the white-picket-fence fantasy.

Now he's breeding you with dedication you've never seen him give to another task. Sure he isn't himself, but you'd still be yourself if he knocked you up. With all your stresses lately about your marriage potentially falling apart, slip ups with your pills have been happening more often.

It's hard to think any of this though from the way he batters your insides and molds them to his will. Your thoughts fade away in favor of an empty haze where everything is about him. Everything feels soft and dreamy when you let go. You wonder if his mind feels like another version of this.

"That's it. Atta girl. You know you're meant to be a mama, huh?" he rasps as your body melts down into a puddle.

"Chris!" you gasp. Your legs try to wrap around his large waist, but they can't get a good hold with how fast he's moving.

"Keep crying for me, little one," he says.

And that you do. Your fingernails drag down the rippling muscles in his back as you whine and cry. The sensation doesn't affect him at all. There's no hint of pain on his face, not an inkling of discomfort. Arousal floods out of you and around his length as he just keeps going.

"Gonna get you so full. No way it won't take."

Your knees bat at his side, but not out of resistance this time. You just can't control the tremors that take over you. They make your legs seize up and flail.

"So cute..." he grunts, "Your little body working so hard to take it all. Just like it'll work hard at carrying my pups."

Finally, you lose control. You think you cum, but it's hard to tell because you don't come down afterward. Trapped in this never-ending high, your eyes roll back and your body goes limp. White fills your vision just as hot pleasure covers every inch of your skin. He yanks you closer now, humping into your pussy like you're nothing more than a toy for him to play with.

"Good girl. Let it all go. Nothing's better than this. Just doing what you're supposed to. My perfect breeding pet," he growls.

Despite the rest of your body flopping around in his arms, your pussy stays nice and tight. It helps get him there. Each stroke into your heat drags him closer to the edge. He can't stop until he reaches the peak.

When he finally does, he throws his head back and releases with a roar. His muscles tense, his hips moving with the natural desire to breed. He doesn't have to think about anything. His cum spills out of him and into you.

It keeps going for a long time. You're not sure if it's because you're so out of it, but it's the longest orgasm you've seen anyone have. You can feel globs of his seed spilling trying to spill out of you even though he hasn't pulled out.

One last burst shoots against your walls, but then something finally pulls you back to reality. The intense stretch of his knot swelling up. You cry out, eyes widening in panic. Your hands push at his chest haphazardly.

Like every time tonight though, he won't let you go. He holds you on the swollen base of his cock. At least now though, when he's not trapped in the fervor of primal lust, he has the decency to kiss away your tears and stroke your cheeks.

"It's ok, sweetheart. Not much longer. You did so good for me," he whispers before kissing your nose, "Sweet little baby. You took so much didn't you?"

You nod lazily, watery eyes looking to him for reassurance.

"Yes, you did," he coos, "You just have to let it take now, and then you'll be all done."

His body stays true to his word. You don't have the exact time, but it's not too much longer before his knot begins to deflate.

You're relieved when the burn of the stretch begins to recede and fade away. It allows for a hazy sleepiness to take over instead.

Everything fades away. Your eyes droop, turning your vision to black. Vaguely, you feel Chris picking you up and the faint bobbing of steps. You hear the door creak and shut. Then soon, you feel the softness of your mattress beneath you and your blankets draped above you.

The last thing you feel before you shut your eyes is the weight of his bulky arm curling around your body and the heat of his chest against your back.

[asahicore]

cherry pits - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

(Spoiler: wrong.)

genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl

word count. 12.9k

a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!

You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.

Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.

One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.

That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money. 

Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.

Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.

You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.

The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.

A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.

Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.

As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.

You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty. 

You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.

You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.

“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”

“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over. 

The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.

“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.

You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”

You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.

—

That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.

Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.

You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice. 

Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.

“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.

“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.

“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house. 

“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”

He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples. 

“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.

A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior. 

“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.

He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”

“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.

“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.

“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.

“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.

“Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.

“Just water is fine.”

A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.

“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”

“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).

“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”

“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.

“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”

“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”

“So you're a student?”

“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”

You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms. 

You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?

You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.

“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.

“She’s turning eight this summer.”

“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”

“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”

“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts. 

He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”

You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”

“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”

“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.

He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.

“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”

He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”

“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.

Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.

“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.

“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away. 

On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of. 

Your parents ask you where you���ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly. 

“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.

“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”

“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.

“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”

“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.

“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you. 

“C’mon, mom!”

“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”

“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.

“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”

Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.

He does live right by, after all.

That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.

“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”

You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.

“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”

“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”

You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic. 

—

One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.

Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.

Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care. 

Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.

You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.

“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein. 

“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.

You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.” 

He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”

A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”

And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.

“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.

And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right? 

Wrong. It’s unbearable.

Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.

At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.

Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-

Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us. 

You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.

“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”

“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”

“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”

“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.

He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.

Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”

You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”

“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.

“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.

Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.

You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well. 

You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice. 

He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.

Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you. 

He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them. 

His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.

You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss. 

A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.

“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.

“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.

“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. 

Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”

“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.

“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.

—

Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor. 

A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table. 

“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you. 

Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.

This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy. 

It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.

The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.

At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.

The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.

When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.

Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.

You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.

He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.

Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.

Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style. 

Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.

She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”

“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.

“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.

“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.

He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”

“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”

“No, that’s the thing-”

“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”

“No, just listen-”

“So let’s just forget about it, and-”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.

“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.

“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”

There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”

“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”

“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.

“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.

“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.

“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.

Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.

You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.

Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.

As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly. 

“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.

“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.

“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.

“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.

“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.

“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.

“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.

He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.

You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Really?”

“Really.”

After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.

You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”

“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.

You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.

You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”

You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.

“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.

“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.

“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”

He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.

He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”

The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax. 

You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.

His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.

“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.

“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.

“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.

His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.

You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.

He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.

“Was that too much?” 

“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.

“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.

“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.

“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.

You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.

—

You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.

“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.

“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.

“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”

“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.

“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.

“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”

“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.

“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn. 

“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.

There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?

The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.

this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

[luveline]

coworker!james is fueling me rn thank u miss jade!! can i pretty please request a coworker!james drabble in which someone at work, a higher-up of some kind or someone visiting from another company being kind of cruel to reader, and jamie discovers that maybe there are several people who have just not been very kind to her, and she doesn’t really understand why he’s upset for her? please and thank u

—Why is James so upset? And how do you calm him down so quickly? fem, 1.2k

The horrible heat of the first week of British summer time finally breaks. It was an eventuality. Nothing good ever lasts for James —he must’ve been enjoying it too much. The sun is gone, the clouds are grey, and the office radiators pump a meek heat into the room.

The dreary skies outside depress him. “I miss the sun,” he sighs, putting the tips of his fingers together and bringing down his hands, base of his palms apart to stretch the sore inside of his wrists. They pang. 

“Sunny again next week,” Remus says reassuringly. “Just in time for your review!” 

“Please don’t remind me.” 

“I must remind you, Jamie.” Remus stands up, and he gives James a loving squeeze on the shoulder, voice close to his ear, “Because you need to pretend you like your job, at least for the next few days. Come and get some coffee with me.” 

James waves his hand. “In a second.” 

When James met Remus, Remus couldn’t take touch. Didn’t like it or want it, couldn’t accept so much as a compliment, but things change, and years of knowing one another makes squeezing and pinching easy work. Remus flicks him without cruelty and exits the nook, leaving James on his own. 

He glares at your empty seat, confused. When did you leave? 

Doesn’t matter. Coffee. James is in desperate need of coffee as Remus recommended to warm up. He exits out of his desktop and shucks his suit jacket back on, taking a hand to run through his knotted hair as he walks. Past the desk banks of the account managers and the reception bank to the hallway that runs into the break room and adjourning kitchen. The office is a weird maze but the worst part is having the big ‘conference’ room right next to the break room, so the people inside working can judge you for eating, and vice versa. 

The conference room door is propped open. 

James recognises you from behind, your hair and tight shoulders. He should recognise the stress, having caused so much of it. 

“It’s just not good enough.” 

“I know.”

“You coast by, doing half the work of your fellow accountants.” 

“I… I was sick for a week, I know it affected my turnover. But nothing went unfinished, sir.” 

“No, because your colleagues picked up your slack.” 

“Sir, I– I promise I work hard.” 

Your voice is so oddly unlike yourself, a tone James is unfamiliar with. He’s arrogant and agitating and has no business interrupting, but he knocks the conference door anyways. 

“Hi, Mr. Vida. How’s it going?” James asks.

“James, it’s fine. We’re just going through L/N’s review.” 

James pulls one of those boyish smirks that men often share when they should be grimacing instead. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” He hangs on like he has something else to say. 

“I think we’re about finished.” 

Mr. Vida is a predictable man. He ushers the woman away to make room for the man. His misogyny is unsubtle and unfortunate, your expression laced with hurt as you gather yourself and stand to leave. 

“Not looking forward to mine,” James says easily. You round the door, and he sends Mr. Vida a suck-up smile before he goes. He should stand up for you in a way that matters, but he’d felt it imperative to remove you from the situation, rather than escalate. 

He’s on your tail, coffee forgotten as you scurry back to the desks. “Hey,” he says, finding himself in a half-jog to keep up, “wait, wait, are you okay?” 

You slow. “I’m fine,” you say, so mildly perplexed that he doesn’t think for a moment you’re playing it cool. 

“He was getting a little heavy with you.” 

You frown in agreement, but otherwise move on, rolling your chair back with your foot to open your desk drawer. “I guess so. He’s like that.” 

“Is he? I’ve never had him that mad at me.” 

“He’s not that bad.” You pull a blister pack of painkillers from your drawer and pop three out in a row. “Have you met his boss? Oh, have you ever spoken to the manager of the account managers from the Brussels office? She sucks.” 

James doesn’t have the wherewithal to pretend he wasn’t following you. He stands with his hands vice-like on the back of his chair. “What did they say to you?” 

“Who, Mr. Vida’s boss? Or the Brussels manager?” 

“Both.” 

You sit and fish a bottle of water from your bag. “I actually filed a successful grievance again Mr. Vida’s boss, he kept calling me sweetheart. I know,” —you wince— “that’s a bit much, but it was really obvious he was looking down at me, so.” 

“And the Brussels manager?” 

“She emailed me thinking I was much more involved with the lab than I actually am. She kept calling me stupid.” You take one of your tablets and wash it down with a swig of water. “But,” you add, smiling at him, “I did manage to solve her problem.” 

“What do you mean, she called you stupid?” 

Your smile slips. “She called me a bunch of stuff. Professionally, you know, but she kept asking why my foresight was so sorely lacking. You know what they’re like.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t, no. Nobody’s ever called me stupid. Or sweetheart.” 

You smile genially. “Perks of being a girl. Or stupid.” You laugh at yourself softly.

“You’re not stupid.” 

You sober at his solemn tone. “I know,” you say. “I’m just joking.” 

“Nobody should be talking to you like that.” 

“I know, James, but what am I supposed to do?” 

He doesn’t know. What can you do? Nothing. What can James do? What should he do? 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. 

Your frown deepens. “It’s not your fault. It’s really fine.” 

“It’s not fine. It’s not, though, it’s–”

“James?” you say. 

“What?” 

You stand up. You stand close to him, looking into his face. “Don’t be upset,” you say, mirroring his softer tone, “it’s okay. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it at all.” 

“Well, luckily this time I had you to come and rescue me,” you say. “But it really is fine. I can look after myself, even if I shouldn’t have to. Okay?” 

Your hand finds his arm. You squeeze his wrist and his entire torso lights up, everything, his chest, the backs of his shoulders, like goosebumps but warmer and with a softer fuzz to it. Your eyes meet his, an encouraging smile playing on a pretty mouth. For the first time that day, he feels pleasantly warm, like he’s had that first hot sip of coffee. 

The pads of your fingers are so, so soft where you catch his bare skin. 

“Okay,” he says instinctively. He’d say the sky was red if you asked him to, in that moment. 

You rub the back of his thumb with yours before letting him go. You sit down and finish your drink, and it takes James a good two minutes at his own desk to remember he’s not the one who needed comforting. 

He opens his emails to write a formal complaint against Mr. Vida for poor work conduct. He doesn’t think twice about hitting send. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Thanks as usual for reading.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Things don’t become comfortable, but familiar. You get into a routine, one which smears the days and nights into the other. The landscape helps with that. The sun is fleeting, even in July. The days are longer but it’s not anywhere as stifling or humid as New York. Like everything else, it’s different. 

The man at the fish place, Frederik, knows your name. His wife, Inga too. When you walk in the door, they put your order to fry before you even get to the counter. They’re friendly and warm. It’s nice to have some smiling faces when you can hardly muster the same.  

They like to ask you about New York; they’re finally planning a big trip to America after twenty-five years together. They remind you of Marigold and her bakery. You long for one of her eclairs and her chatty demeanour. Just another thing to miss. 

As you sit down at a table near the window to eat in, your phone goes off. You answer as you read Sam’s name across the screen. He’s the only one you’ve talked to in the last month. Nearly two now. August is close. 

“Yo, yo, girly pop,” he sings from the other end. 

“Girly pop? Sam,” you chide as you hover a thick cut fry before your mouth. 

“Chicky poo, nope. Girly pop, nope. I’ll get there,” he teases, “finally got a hold of you.” 

“Uh, yeah, the site is far. No signal,” you shrug and take a bite. 

“I know, I'm just needy,” he kids. “So, you hitting the spa? Summer’s going fast.” 

“Not yet,” you swallow. “Sam, there’s a lot of work here and it’s just me. The only help I get is from a local student volunteer and they do three hours a week.” 

“Oof, why does your work sound so boring?” He groans 

“Hey!” 

“Well, I mean, digging up dirt all day, tell me you’re not going mad. You making friends? No one to cool, I hope. I’m still your number one guy.” 

“Not really. It’s tough. Long hours. I don’t know,” you stare out the window as you toy with the bamboo fork.  

“If you were going to hide all day in a hovel, you could’ve stayed in New York,” he sighs. 

“Sam, I’m trying. Really. It’s... It’s going to take some time.” 

“Right,” he agrees grimly. “Time. A year is not that long.”  

You hum and lean back in the chair. You’re not as hungry as you were. You close up the container and stand. 

“I know, alright?” You sniff as you tidy the table and grab your food, “but this isn’t a vacation.” 

“It’s also not a missionary trip,” he retorts. “I’m not tryna be a dick here, I’m helping. You need this.” 

You push out into the street and cluck. Silence. You don’t know what to say. He’s right and just like ever day, the conversation is the same. Over and over. It’s going to drive you crazy. 

“More sunlight this time of year, good for work--” 

“No more work talk,” he interjects, “if you don’t got anything fun going on, I'll just have to make you jealous. Some good old fashioned FOMO. Hm, me and Bucky went to Jersey.” 

“Jersey? Why?” You take the bait, happy for the distraction. 

“Oh, yeah, I told him there was a vintage bike for sale there.” 

“You told him that but...” 

“There wasn’t. I just wanted to see him interact with the locals. The old ladies love him but the men... well, I think he might have a warrant out now.” 

“No, Sam, what the hell?” You exclaim as you stroll along. “Are you trying to get him killed?” 

“Hey, I got his back. Just like I got yours. It was just a prank.” 

“Wait, Sam, where exactly did you take him in Jersey?” 

“Some cribbage club, I don’t know. I saw a page for it online. Thought he’d fit in--” 

“They were old?” 

“They match his energy,” he snorts. 

You can’t help but laugh. It feels good. Just that little bit of home. Your amusement is dampened as your heart sinks. You really were so stupid. You didn’t see what you had all around you; Bucky, Sam, more than just Steve. Now it’s all behind you and going back won’t be the same as before. 

💟

There’s tension in the air. It’s going to rain. You suspect your day will be cut short by the gathering clouds but your persist. No use in running. Again. 

The last time you left in fear of a storm, it waited until the next day. So you sit, boots set in the dirty, hunched over as you carefully trace out the strange lump. It’s more than sediment. Bone but not a skeleton. Likely animal and bent into some tool. You have to be delicate. It’s not like the movies, you can’t just dig your hand in and rip it out. 

Your earbud drones as a retro R&B playlist keeps your mind at focus. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove, feeling the flecks of dirt cling to your skin. You ignore it and press on. Just a little more, a little more. 

It’s bigger than you expect. Just as you think it might come free, you find it goes further down. You can make out the jagged break and the hide wrapping at it’s base. A spear of some sort.  

You roll your shoulders out and put your tools down on the open role. You peel of the gloves and reach for the tall insulated bottle of water. You gulp, your throat cooling nicely at the flow. You cap the bottle and clear your throat, listening to the silence of the mountain. 

Yet it isn’t quiet. You glance around at the subtle scratching, a strange tapping across the ground. It could be vermin. It’s not unusual to disturb a nest of one thing or another on a dig but they usually leave early on. 

You put the bottle down and shove your hand back into a glove. A puffy breath comes over the scratching. Several breaths in quick succession, as if there’s something sniff. You keep your other glove in your grip and stand. Your legs are so cramped that your steps are stiff and stunted. 

As you search for the source, there’s a yipe and a fuzzy shape catches your eye. You tilt your head, thoroughly confused at the barking beast. You’re not certain that chihuahuas are native to Norway. At least, you wouldn’t assume so. 

The ashy blond dog has longer fur along its ears and chest and a white bolt down its chest. You can tell it isn’t wild despite its behaviour as it is finely groomed and wears a bright red collar. You approach the fence as it hops, stopping only to try to dig beneath with its dirtied paws. 

“Hi, buddy,” you near the eager dog, “how’d you get up here?” 

You stop just across from the dog and poke your fingers through the fence. It stops, you think a ‘he’, and sniffs your fingers. His cold nose tickles you and you wiggle until you can pet his head. The little thunderbolt emblem on hiss collar peeks through his mane. There might be some information there. 

“Thunder!” The booming voice sounds like the very thing it decries, “Thunder, you pest, where’re you off too?” 

There’s a crunching of soil and rock along the mountain pass as the dog growls and barks again, turning to face the skewing of a towering shadow. You watch in shock at the approach. You didn’t think there was life so far up. That or someone has chosen a rather treacherous hiking trail. 

The dog, you assume ‘Thunder’, bounces back and forth in anticipation of his own, calling to him with his pitchy yaps. The man appears around the jagged rock and you feel the air knocked from your chest. You slowly reach to take out your earbud and tuck it in a pocket.

Wow. You blink to make sure it’s real. To be certain this isn’t some trick of the mind or this ancient land. Maybe the gods are real here. 

He’s tall and broad and handsome. His canvas jacket does little to conceal his muscular build as his jeans are snug to his thick thighs. You think he’s even bigger than Steve. You wince at the reminder of the man but it quickly flits away. You can’t ignore the man before you with his golden tresses twisted back into a low bun, stray strands wisping forward to frame his stony jaw and stormy blue eyes. 

You stand gaping through the fence as the man flinches in fright. His gaze meet yours and his cheeks tinge pink as he gives a crooked grin, “ah, Thunder, my darling, you’ve found a friend.” 

He whistles and the dog lunges forward. He picks up the chihuahua, their size difference almost comical as he cradles him in one arm. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can barely think.  

You snap your mouth shut and clear your throat. Work. That’s what you should be doing. 

“Hello,” the man nears the other side of the fence before you can move away, “I’ve been wondering what this is all about. The signs...” he points with his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh,” you peer around as if lost. You sort of are. “A dig. Er. Grant,” you stammer out. You take a breath and still your mind, “I work with an archeological society in New York. We’ve been sponsored by your national board to exhume this site.” 

“Ah, yes, makes sense,” he lowers his brows thoughtfully as the dog squirms in his hold, yiping and biting at his sleeve. “Forgive me, she is rather uncouth.” He raises the dog higher and she wiggles in his arm. You see it now, definitely a pampered girl. “This is Thunder. She lives up to her namesake, eh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you give a brittle smile, unsure. 

“Thor,” he dips his chin down, “I live just up the pass.” 

“You do?” You wonder curiously. “All the way up here?” 

“Oh yes, if you saw the old haunt, you might just want to dig that up too,” he jokes. “We usually go up the pass, towards the river.��� 

“The river?” 

“Yes, you mustn’t stray far from here,” he remarks as he raises a hand to lean on the fence, only to nearly tip the unanchored grating. “Oooh, apologies,” he rights himself with a laugh, “anyhow, it is nice to see a new face around here. Better to have a name for it.” 

“Right, uh,” you offer your name and giggle nervously, “it’s just me on-site, guess I forget my manners.” 

“Not to worry. As the resident mountain man, my etiquette does lack,” he winces as Thunder chomps on his thumb knuckle, “eh, you monster, alright.” He holds her up and she pokes her nose through the fence, “she loves new people. Not so keen on the old.” 

“She's cute,” you scratch her nose and she licks your fingers. “Not exactly a native species.” 

“Who knows where she came from? Found the little dragon in the woods. Suppose someone left her there. She was covered in mud, so small I though she was a bloody toad,” he muses as he brings her back against his chest and rocks her, “it was only her thunderous barks which told me otherwise, isn’t that right, darling?” 

He makes a kissy noise at her and her fluffy tail wags wildly against him. You smile more genuinely. It is nice to have another living thing around after digging up the broken and dead for so long. 

“So you’re from New York?” He asks abruptly, his blue eyes rolling over you like a tide. 

“Yeah,” you utter breathily, “yes, New York.” 

“You’ve been here a while?” 

“Couple months,” you shift and twist your glove. 

“Wonderful, and you’ve done much exploring? You must live in town.” 

“About three hours,” you point towards the gravelly road, “haven’t had much time for sightseeing but I found a good fish shop.” 

“A shop? That’s no good. We catch our own fish, fry ‘em up over the pit,” he says, “that’s the way we do it up here.” 

You nod, “sounds fun. Well, er,” you turn halfway and look around, your eyes skimming up to the cloudy sky, “I should probably hustle. Looks like rain.” 

“That it does but it won’t be ‘til midnight,” he assures. 

“You think it’ll hold out?” 

“I know so,” he affirms and lingers by the fence, trying to see past you, “what exactly are you uncovering over there?” 

“Not much so far,” you pull on your loose glove. 

“You must know what this place was. A raider’s camp.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mm, yes, the raiders would camp upon the pass away from those who might come ashore, then go off themselves to find a coast to reap,” he explains. 

“And how do you know all that?” You ask as you tramp back to your place in the dirt. 

“Suppose some of my ancestors camped here with them,” he offers casually, “for so long as we’ve been up here. Once the viking scamps settled, they had to find a home somewhere. Some fellow named Agmundr or another built a stone house further up.” 

“Admundr? Family?” You prompt. 

“Distant,” he assures, “been some time and that stone house is now a foundation.” 

You get down to your knees as you grab your brush and peek over at him, “thanks for the information. I’ll have to add it to the land report. Have them crosscheck in the archives.” 

“Not at all. You won’t find it all on your paper, you know? We carry or history on our tongues here.” 

“Sure,” you say as you bend over the spearhead and start again. 

“You don’t mind if I watch? I always did love history and I’ve never seen a proper dig before.” 

“Not much going on, I’m afraid,” you shrug, “but if you want.” 

“Thunder will have a tantrum if I go,” he chuckles, “she likes you.” 

“Hm,” you scoff, “she is very outspoken.” 

You set your eyes on your task but can’t shake the awareness of your audience. It’s not too unusual. There were a few digs you did early on in the heart of the city and people loved to ogle you. This is different. Just the two of you. A stranger even. Friendly as he is, you’re happy for the fence, even if it is rather flimsy. 

“Those bones aren’t for you,” he says to the dog as she wriggles in his grasp. “Let’s find a stick then, you little pest.” 

[spookwyrdie]

Sweet Spot {part 1}

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}{part 4}{part 5}{part 6}

Baker Felix x Florist reader

summary: You're putting together the floral arrangements for your ex's wedding as a favor, forgetting how passive aggressive he can be about your love life. Fortunately for you, one of your best friend's in the world comes over to feed you sugar and make you a sweet offer to get back at your ex. genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint // word count: 2.8k // warnings: adult dialogue, sexual themes, wet dream // a/n: Trying out something longer and fluffier this time! If you'd like to be on the taglist, reply to this post or send me an ask 🥰

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I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

You should have never agreed to do this. Your fingers were sore from wire wrapping all the different bouquets, one for each bridesmaid, the ring bearer’s pillow, and the flower girl. So far, you were only halfway done with the floral arch and hadn’t even gotten to start on the table settings yet. There were bits of torn leaves, crushed flower petals, and feathers strewn around your apartment, trying to deal with the last minute changes in aesthetic that the bride asked for.

 The shift from a classic summer bouquet to something more bohemian wasn’t impossible, but it was a challenge with the wedding a week away. It definitely wasn’t your favorite aesthetic in the world, but you were determined to make it work.

The question of why you had agreed to do this at a quarter of your normal fee was beginning to fester in your mind, especially for your ex’s wedding. 

You and Johnny were amicable, sure. Civil might be a better word for it. You didn’t have any leftover romantic feelings for the man - that ship had sailed ages ago. The main problem you had now with him is that he always seemed to be in competition with you, always trying to steal your thunder or diminish your accomplishments. It was always underhanded and passive aggressive and you didn’t have the energy to really push back.

Speaking of the devil, your phone pings with a text message.

❌J: hey y/n, just checking in about the florals. Jenny is freaking out and wants an update you: working on them now! [image attached]  ❌J: wow! Hard at work! Is this the bride’s bouquet? you: yep! Putting the finishing touches on it now’s ❌J: it looks really busy, are you sure this is what she asked for? you: yes. I promise I’m following her vision that we spoke about during our last consultation. ❌J okay! just making sure! I know some of these changes need a quick turn around. ❌J: oh also… ❌J: i wanted to chat with you about something you: ? ❌J: I know things have been a little rough in the dating department for you lately but you still officially have a plus one to the wedding, in case you wanted to bring your sister or someone! you: …thanks.  you: Don’t know where the idea that I’m struggling with dating came from, but I appreciate the plus one. ❌J: I had just heard through the grapevine is all. ❌J: there’s someone out there for everyone! You’ll find them eventually. ❌J: like me and Jenny! We were just made for each other 💕 you: okay, Johnny! Great chatting, I’ll get back to work now! 

You swipe out of the text thread and pinch your brow, the feeling of a building tension headache settling right between your eyes. His audacity is always bewildering, he can have such a sickeningly sweet tone while making sure to get a jab or two in to hurt you. 

Sure, you haven’t had a solid relationship since the two of you broke up, but he doesn’t have to rub your nose in it. The relationship ended amicably enough once you both graduated from college, realizing that the two of you were drifting apart as you pursued your respective careers. Staying civil made it easier to maintain the friend group, neither of you had any real reason to be upset with the other. That didn’t mean you were close, you still kept your distance.

 When he had gotten engaged, you were genuinely pleased for him, and a little relieved. Sometimes, when you’d run into each other at parties, he would make it a point to find you and tell you how well he was doing. You’d get the feeling that he was trying to showboat his accomplishments - he always wanted to tell you all about his successes, all the great things going on in his life. 

He got a great job at some law firm, a promotion and another promotion. Then he had met Jenny, they got engaged, and wasn’t it just so cute that their names were so similar? Jenny and Johnny, Johnny and Jenny! It became their whole personality as a couple and he’d corner you to tell you about how amazing she is and how he had never met anyone who just got him like she did. Every time you’d deal with this, you felt like he had poured corn syrup on you with how saccharine he sounded.

He’d hear about your ebb and flow of love and give you such a pitying look. “Oh you haven’t been dating? That’s too bad, there’s someone out there for everyone! Just look at me and Jenny!” Just throwing small digs in your direction that flew under the radar for most of your friends. 

But you knew. 

You knew he was always trying to make you feel like you had “lost” the break-up. 

~~~

A knock at the door brings you back to the present moment. 

“Y/n~! It’s me! Open up,” a deep voice lilts in a sing-song voice. 

You shake your head, trying to snap out of your shitty mood to answer the door. On your doorstep is one of the best things that came into your life with his ice blond hair, freckles, and a smile that could light up an entire room. Before you can say anything, Felix barges past you into your apartment, holding two paper bags with the bakery’s logo on it.

“I brought some new flavors for you to try, I’m experimenting for the springtime,” he says as he starts unpacking travel pastry boxes with different colored cakes inside.

“Ugh, please don't talk to me about weddings right now,” you sigh. He pauses his unpacking.

“What’s up? You sound like someone kicked your dog.” 

“I just had the most passive aggressive interaction with my ex, Johnny.”

You open the text thread to show him. 

“This is your ex?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, he’s not even being subtle about it.”

“Nope.”

The room is silent for a split second before Felix brightens up again. 

“Well fuck that, the flowers look great, despite the boho bad taste. Come try these new cake flavors I’ve been playing with! Sugar always cheers me up.”

You give him a small smile, he always knows exactly how to bring a little optimism into a shitty situation. “Sure Felix, what have you got for me?”

Soon, you have 4 plates and forks out for the different cake concoctions.

“I’ve been playing around with different florals and citrus for spring, so here we have a lavender cake with key lime frosting. Over here, we have an earl grey cake with lemon curd and lemon buttercream. Then we’ve got a vanilla cake with a pistachio filling and a rose buttercream. Finally we have a jasmine green tea cake with yuzu curd and a vanilla glaze,” Felix says, bouncing on his toes. 

“Okay, Mary Berry! They all sound delicious.”

“You have to be one hundred percent honest with me, I want actual feedback on these!” He grabs your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes, your heart skipping a beat briefly at his intensity. He looks so eager for you to try his different concoctions. Most couples weren’t looking for anything too extreme in the way of flavors, most opting for a basic white cake and buttercream, so you knew Felix loved to share the uncommon combinations he came up with.

They were all so beautiful, perfectly cut out and frosted with care. You picked up your fork enthusiastically.

“Fuck, Felix, that’s delicious,” you say, savoring the citrus flavors. Every single one you tried was more delicious than the last. Your favorite had to be the earl grey and lemon. “This one tastes like how a springtime tea party feels.”

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling into little crescent moons, his freckles stand out when he smiles so brightly.

“Thanks, it’s always nice when I get to play around with flavor,” he says, leaning back into his seat. As he stretches, his shirt rides up to reveal a small expanse of the bare skin where his hip meets his lower belly, the lean muscle definition standing out in the lamp light. You tear your eyes away when you realize you’ve been lingering your gaze on the scant inch of skin.

 “Oh my god, did tell you?” Felix blurts out suddenly. “I’ve been working with this couple for an upcoming wedding. Absolute nightmare. Terrible taste! Guess what they finally settled on for their flavor.”

“I don’t know, something basic I bet.”

“Fucking mint chocolate chip.”

“Mint chocolate??? For a cake???” You reel back in horror. What on earth kind of combo was that for a wedding cake?

“They insisted on it!” he says, throwing his hands in the air. “Well, the bride did. The groom was never at any of these sampling appointments. She was onher own and really pushing for something unique.”

“I guess it’s unique to make your guests hate you for your choice of cake flavor,” you say, grimacing at the thought of a mint chocolate cake. “Disgusting.”

“I feel bad for their wedding guests. That’s such a controversial flavor for ice cream, I can’t imagine how it’ll go down for the entire reception.”

You hum in agreement, picking up your fork and finishing off the last of your cake in one frosting heavy bite. 

“Y/n you’ve got a little-“ he reaches up, gently holding your chin. 

His gaze softens as he looks at your lips and you freeze in place. Your heart picks up speed, hammering in your chest, at this gentle touch. He doesn’t know that you have had a thing for him for years now, but you’ll never tell him. You love having him as a friend too much to ruin it, he’s the one spot of sunshine on dreary days. There’s no chance he’d reciprocate your feelings, he could literally date anyone the way strangers constantly fall in love with him at first glance.

But right now, he’s focused on your lips, his thumb brushing them carefully, swiping the bit of frosting that was left from your last bite.

“Oh my god!” You force out a laugh, pulling out of his grasp in embarrassment. Taking a napkin, you start furiously wiping your mouth. “Sorry! It was really good!”

“That’s the perfect kind of response to one of my baked goods!” He smiles, licking the frosting off of his thumb. Your heart leaps into your throat. 

Felix never seems to notice the effect he has on people, overwhelming charm, the magnetic pull he has on anyone within 10 ft of him. When the two of you worked at the old cafe together, you’d take a mental tally of the number of customers that would leave with hearts in their eyes after ordering coffee from him. You thought that after five years of friendship you could get used to it via exposure therapy, but his allure slams you in the chest all the time.  You try to keep yourself grounded in reality when he tugs at heartstrings like this - he does this with everyone so you try not to lose your head. But the way he’s looking at you now, leaning in close with fierce affection in his eyes, makes the delusion that he feels the same about you seem almost real.

You giggle nervously and move to tidy things up from the table after you two are done sampling. Felix leans against the counter, watching you, as you start washing the plates.

“I have an idea,” he says. “For your plus-one situation.”

“Okay, shoot.” 

“What if you take me as your date?”

“Be serious, Felix,” you chuckle.

“I am being serious, I clean up real good,” he says, grabbing at your waist playfully.

“Oh!” A fork slips out of your hand and clatters into the sink. “I mean- you don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, I’d like to! Think about it, it’d be perfect, Johnny has no idea who I am and I can brag you up while I’m there. Rub his nose in it for a change.”

“I-“

“Just think it over, no rush. I think it’d be real fun though!” 

You look at him blankly for a moment, your heart thumping in your chest again. “ Yeah, I’ll think it over.”

~~~

Your eyes are closed when you feel a pair of hands slink around your body, drawing you into a chest of hard, lean muscle. The scent like an apple orchard on a rainy autumn morning greets you, petrichor and wood mixed with something crisp and sweet, enveloping you in a sense of comfort. You look up to see who’s arms embrace you to find Felix hovering over you, deep brown eyes locked onto yours. You’re so close you could count the freckles on his cheeks and give a name to each one. He hums as he pulls you in closer, a deep resonance vibrating through his chest, warming you in more ways than one. 

Tell me it’s real, he says, almost silently.

It’s real, you reply. 

He leans down to capture your lips, pausing above you to nudge his nose against yours and smile. 

I’ve waited so long for this, he says as he finally presses his lips against yours softly. His movements are gentle but insistent, trying to communicate with you, speaking quietly of the years of yearning that have been building. Your skin sings with the way his hands splay on your lower back, pushing your pelvis into him as he presses his tongue against your lips, asking for permission. The kiss deepens and you fall further into him, molding yourself against him. Your hands wind their way into his hair, those ice blond strands wrapped up in your grasp.

A small tug has him detaching from your mouth in a gasp, arching into you ever so slightly as his eyes flutter shut. His fingers find purchase in your plush hips, gripping into you harshly as he yanks you even closer to his body, no space between your body and his. Your breasts press into him, feeling his every breath move against you. He groans at the feel of you before he wraps you up into another kiss, this one more fervent. The way your soft body fits against his so well has his tongue dancing with yours, surging into you then backing away, teasing you until your body feels like it’s on fire. 

You whimper into his mouth when he shifts, coaxing your feet apart to slot his thigh between your legs. He bears down on your hips, pressing your core against his flexed muscle. Liquid heat pools in your belly as he starts rocking against you, feeling his length against your hip, pleading for friction. His hands snake down to grab onto your ass, kneading into the thick flesh, controlling the pace of your grinding into him.

You feel that arousal building inside of you, the tension has you clenching while you rut your hips against him. You feel how wet your panties have become as they slide over your clit, your hips stuttering against him, nearing your peak. 

Felix, I’m- you start to say but he cuts you off with a kiss.

Come for me, y/n, he murmurs against your lips. I want all of you. I wanna feel you lose control.

His words have you moaning, your brow furrowing as your hips shake. He holds you steady as he bounces his leg slightly to add extra pressure. You gasp, feeling your muscles tighten.

Give it all to me, he whispers against your lips. It belongs to me.

His voice sounds distant as you feel yourself coming to the edge. 

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. You find yourself in bed, thrusting pitifully against your pillow, your heart racing and your skin flush with arousal. As you start to pull yourself out of the dream you were so wrapped up in, your orgasm shatters through you, moaning into the dark of your room. Your legs shake as your core muscles flutter, throbbing at the thought of Felix’s mouth on yours. As you start to come down from your high and settle into reality, you can feel your own pulse in your clit, your legs tangled in your sheets with a pillow between your legs, forehead glistening with sweat. 

It felt so real, like you could actually feel the ghost of his hands on your ass rocking you against his body, his groans ricocheting in your chest. You haven’t had a dream like that in ages, it was so vivid. You wanted it to be real so badly.

That settles it. You reach for your phone, the light piercing through the darkness, staring at the clock that reads 4:26 AM. Opening your messaging app, you type out a quick text and hit send.

you: okay Felix, let’s do it. Will you be my plus one?

[justabigassnerd]

You Are Still My World

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word count - 3,310

Warnings - feelings of abandonment, mentions of Carole & Goose, mentions of death, angst

Summary - 17 years after Bradley took off after your dad pulled his papers, he waltzes right back into your life like nothing ever happened

A/N - hey y'all! sorry it's been a minute since I last uploaded a fic, I was in a slump and y'all's lovely comments managed to bring me out of it. this was an anon request that I hope I did justice because the idea was so cool. As per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

As you grew up, the adults that surrounded you always joked that you and Bradley Bradshaw were joined at the hip. Where one of you was, the other would not be far behind. You were the best of friends and you adored Bradley. He was a couple of years older than you but didn’t let it bother him even when people teased him for hanging out with someone who wasn’t in his grade at school and he always bit back, defending you wholeheartedly. Bradley was such a staple in your life that you couldn’t imagine life without him.

Until one day, everything changed.

Your dad, Pete Mitchell, better known as Maverick, pulled Bradley’s papers to the naval academy. You had no idea that he did it until a year after Bradley stopped talking to you. You had seen him on your way to school and waved at him but he just rolled his eyes and continued on his run, making your heart shatter in your chest. You had just been talking with him yesterday, helping him navigate the recent loss of his mother and now he wanted nothing to do with you? Worry and confusion ate away at you the whole school day, since Bradley had just graduated that summer you couldn’t corner him at lunch to get an answer out of him. You now instead had to wait until you could head around to see him at his house. As the day progressed you couldn’t help but wonder if it was just part of his grieving process. You knew anger was one of the five stages when it came to processing grief so maybe he was in that stage and just taking it out on you. Then your thoughts started to shift into more negative ones, and you started to wonder if you did something to upset him the last time you saw him. You replayed every word of the last conversation you had with Bradley and thought about whether anything you said could’ve come across as rude or upsetting to him and you just didn’t know. The second school was over you couldn’t have gotten out of the building any faster and you headed to Bradley’s house, stopping on the path when you noticed that his beautiful blue Bronco was missing from the driveway, indicating to you that Bradley wasn’t home. You chose to bite the bullet and head back home, hoping your dad might have some answers to your questions.

“Hey dad, do you know if I did something to upset Bradley? I saw him on my way to school this morning and he completely blanked me.” You asked as you ate dinner, you had your focus on your plate as you cut up your food so you missed how your dad tensed up at your question.

“No sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Maverick replied, smiling softly over at you as he took a sip from his beer bottle as the angry words Bradley had yelled at him earlier echoed in his head repeatedly.

“You sure?” You ask timidly, wanting to know if there was anything you might’ve done that you didn’t notice but your dad did.

“Positive. Give him a little space, I’m sure he’ll come back before the week is up.” He said, his smile warm and encouraging as you nodded and continued to eat your dinner.

You would not speak another word to Bradley Bradshaw until almost twenty years later.

You didn’t follow in your father’s footsteps when you grew up. You instead became an elementary school teacher and found yourself living in San Diego, mere minutes away from Top Gun. You spent most of your childhood growing up in this area so it felt like returning home after coming back after a few years at college and then teaching in Vermont. You had found yourself missing California more than you cared to admit and when you found out about a teaching job at the elementary school near the naval base you knew you had to move back. You figured that not only would it be nice to come back to the place you called home, but since you were a military kid too, you could help the young children with parents in the navy when their parents went away on deployments. You got the job and moved back to San Diego with a smile on your face.

A few months after you got settled into your new job and your new house, you got a call from your dad, telling you that he had been called back to Top Gun to teach a bunch of Top Gun graduates how to fly a mission. You had offered to let him stay with you when he told you but he declined your offer, telling you that he already had quarters to live in but he promised he’d be visiting often. It was nice to have your dad back in town again, he’d been away on a fair few deployments recently so you enjoyed having him around again, and the fact he wouldn’t be flying the mission put you at ease slightly because, from the way he described it, this mission was one of the most dangerous ones he would’ve flown.

What Maverick didn’t tell you, was that Bradley was one of the Top Gun graduates who was a candidate for the mission. He knew that despite how much you tried to hide it behind your anger, you were still hurt by Bradley leaving and cutting you out of his life. And he knew that you still loved and cared for Bradley, and you would hate to hear that he would potentially be putting his life at risk if he was chosen for this mission.

A month after the uranium mission had been completed and Maverick and Bradley had repaired their relationship, you bumped into Bradley again for the first time in seventeen years. Dagger Squadron was now a permanent fixture in San Diego with Maverick staying too, not only for his team but because he reconnected with Penny and started going out again. It was nice to have your dad around permanently, and seeing how happy he was with Penny made you happy too.

You were in the shop when you bumped into Bradley again. You were browsing the aisles, searching for new stationery for your classroom since your spare pens never seemed to return when you lent the pens to your students after they realised, they had lost their own pens. You grabbed a large pack of ballpoint pens and turned around where you quickly collided with another body.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to.” You apologised quickly, steadying yourself as the person you bumped into chuckled.

“No harm done.” Your heart plummeted at that all-too-familiar voice. You lifted your head to see those honey-coloured eyes you had loved so much growing up. Bradley had grown significantly since you last saw him, he’d filled out with muscles, his broad shoulders showing through the Hawaiian shirt he was wearing, evidence to you that he’d inherited his dad’s sense of style. He was now sporting a moustache that reminded you of Goose’s. As you stared at him you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you had missed him and how much of his life you had missed. But those feelings were overtaken by the anger you still held deep down at his abandonment of you. Before Bradley could say anything more, you turned on your heels and retreated, leaving Bradley standing in the middle of the stationary aisle with a confused expression. Bradley did a full sweep of the shop in the hopes he’d find you and be able to talk to you but you had left. Bradley had called Maverick on his way out of the shop, asking why he didn’t tell him that you were in town and why you were ignoring him. Maverick chose to tell Bradley that he wasn’t getting involved, that if he really wanted an answer then he had to talk to you himself. Bradley couldn’t help but groan as he hung up the phone with Maverick, knowing you’d seemingly rather talk to a pack of rabid wolves than talk to him with the way you hightailed it out of the shop. Bradley didn’t know why you were refusing to talk to him, he could’ve sworn the last time he spoke to you everything was okay between the two of you. Yes, he could admit that it had been a while since you last spoke with him but he only avoided talking to you because he was so angry at Maverick that he didn’t want to take anything out on you, and then he moved away to college before reapplying to the naval academy again. Bradley headed home, plotting ways to approach you and get you to talk to him.

After seeing Bradley in the store, you seemed to keep bumping into him everywhere you went. You tried to avoid him, ignoring him calling after you and brushing past him when he attempted to corner you. Every time you did, you felt your heart breaking more and more. You still held so much love in your heart for Bradley and it broke you to walk away from him every time you saw him. But every time you thought about hearing him out, you reminded yourself of the pain you felt when he not only ignored you but moved away without saying a word. You could understand why Bradley had been upset all those years ago, when your dad had told you that he pulled Bradley’s papers you got angry on Bradley’s behalf but soon came to understand your father's reasoning but that didn’t stop you from being at least a little upset that he did it because of the fallout it caused.

After a couple of weeks of you avoiding Bradley, he was reaching his breaking point. He was yearning to have you back in his life after so long without you. He knew he missed you when he left but he didn’t realise the severity of how much he missed you until he saw you again. He eventually figured you weren’t going to talk to him unless he could corner you somewhere. He hated himself for it, but he was growing frustrated with you avoiding him, he was trying to mend the bridge between you, and you were seemingly taking dynamite to the metaphorical bridge and destroying it further. He managed to coerce Maverick into giving him your address. He figured you’d be more comfortable talking to him in the four walls of your house and the worst you could do was slam the door in his face. He decided to wait until a Friday evening, deciding to skip Dagger Squad’s usual get-together at the Hard Deck and instead headed home after training to freshen up before heading to your house. He arrived at your house and walked up towards the house, going over what he wanted to say before he stopped in front of your front door, taking a deep breath before reaching to ring the doorbell.

Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard the ring of your doorbell. Your dad always called or texted before he came around, Penny too. You hadn’t invited anyone around nor had you ordered any food to be delivered, although you were sat on the sofa of your house staring at the takeaway pizza menu. Figuring it was one of your teaching assistants, swinging by to run something by you or check something with you before the weekend officially began, you dragged yourself off the sofa and towards the front door, pulling it open to reveal Bradley on the other side. Your face dropped at the sight of him and you went to close the door but he was quick to brace his hand on the door and prevent it from closing. Despite how much effort you were putting into closing the door, Bradley had more muscle than you and had a much easier time keeping the door open than you were having trying to close the door.

“y/n, please talk to me.” Bradley pleads, his eyes full of concern and sorrow as he stared at you.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You say firmly, attempting to close the door once more but when he continues to hold the door open you give up, sighing heavily and stalking back towards the living room with Bradley hot on your heels after closing your front door behind him.

“y/n, I’ve been back in San Diego for a couple of months now and you’ve not spoken a word to me since I bumped into you in that shop. I tried to speak to Mav about why you’ve been avoiding me but he won’t tell me so I’ve been trying to talk to you so I can find out what’s going on here because last time we spoke-”

“Was almost twenty years ago Bradley.” You say, a sharp tone to your voice as you turn to face him, folding your arms over your chest as you stare at him.

“I don’t understand. I had to do what I could to get back into the naval academy after your dad pulled my papers. You know he did that, right?” Bradley counters, wanting you to understand why he did what he did.

“He told me a year after you left. I understand why you felt you had to do that but you didn’t need to cut me out like that. Like I meant nothing to you. Who am I kidding? Maybe I was nothing to you.” You scoff, turning away from Bradley when you feel the tears pricking at your eyes.

“y/n…” Bradley starts, aching to reach out and pull you into his arms but held himself back, knowing that was the last thing you wanted him to do.

“You never meant nothing to me.” He manages to continue, watching your movements carefully, seeing how you were fighting to keep the tears back and he silently hated himself for being the cause of them.

“Oh really? Sure felt like I did.” You mutter angrily, turning to walk into the kitchen with Bradley following behind like a lost puppy.

“You know, you meant the world to me. I loved you so much. Still do love you so much, more than I probably should. Growing up you were my best friend, the one person I wanted to spend my time with and you just left without so much as a goodbye. The last time I ever saw you before you left, you rolled your eyes at me when I tried to say hi. I spent a year of my life thinking I had done or said something that drove you off. Dad only told me what he did because he watched me blame myself for a year. Bradley, you broke my heart. But as much as I want to hate you, I can’t. Every single bit of anger I had towards you is gone because seeing you after so long reminded me of how much I love you and how much I missed you while you were gone.” You say, tears finally rolling down your cheeks at your confession and you saw as Bradley’s face softened at your words.

“y/n. I’ve been a shitty friend, I know that. I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I certainly don’t deserve your love, especially after what I put you through. You were never the cause of why I stopped talking to you. I was a coward. I was scared that because of how angry I was at Mav I was going to take it out on you too. I know now that I should’ve just talked to you but by the time I realised that what I was doing was stupid, the damage had already been done and I was packing my stuff to go to college. I should’ve reached out to you and talked to you way before now because you deserved to know the truth. Don’t ever say I didn’t care about you because I did. I still do. You are still my world. I couldn’t stop thinking about you since I moved away. I thought I’d never get to see you again. That I’d never get to tell you just how much I loved you, because it’s a lot. I am so sorry y/n.” Bradley’s words make you look up at him, his now teary eyes locking with yours. Every memory you had with Bradley flashed through your mind. Memories of spending hours at the beach together. Memories of how he protected you fearlessly when people picked on you. You were seeing your Bradley again in front of you. You took a step towards him and wrapped your arms around his torso, squeezing him tight. Bradley let out a shuddering breath at the hug before gingerly wrapping his arms around you, tugging you a little closer when you show no indication of letting go any time soon. Bradley then dips his head into the crook of your neck and allows his pent-up tears to fall.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry y/n.” He mutters over and over again. His voice muffled by the soft material of your shirt.

“It’s okay, Bradley.” You mumble, one of your hands reaching up to run through his hair to try and calm him down. Once both you and Bradley had calmed down, you moved to sit on the sofa and you could tell from his expression that he wanted to talk about the massive elephant in the room. Both you and Bradley had just confessed your feelings for each other.

“So, we just admitted we loved each other, huh?” You say quietly, laughing lightly at yourself as you look up at Bradley. You had kept your love for him a closely guarded secret, kept behind walls in the confines of your heart but the second you were alone in your house with him, your walls came crumbling down and you poured your heart out to him.

“We did yes. I meant it. I’ve loved you as more than a friend since we were teenagers. But I totally understand if you want nothing to do with me after what I did to you.” Bradley says, gaze lowering in shame as he speaks.

“I meant it in that way too. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever say it to your face but here we are.” You chuckle weakly, lifting your hand to cup his chin so you could direct him to be looking at you instead of at the floor.

“Can I kiss you?” Bradley asks suddenly, his eyes widening when he realises what he said. As he opened his mouth to apologise and backtrack, you pressed your lips to his, pulling him impossibly closer as he reciprocates the kiss. When you pull apart, you press your forehead to his, lips mere inches apart as you grin happily at each other.

“I’ve been waiting seventeen years for you to ask me that question.” You tease as Bradley’s grin grows playful.

“Well, I guess we’ve got a lot to catch up on then.” Bradley says playfully, pulling you towards him as he falls back along the sofa, you lying on top of him in a giggling heap. You cuddle into him instantly as his arms remain firmly wrapped around you. Bradley’s arms felt like home. Like nothing could harm you and you were safe from whatever the outside world could throw at you. As you cuddled into Bradley’s chest, he smiled to himself as he tightened his grip slightly. His world was back in his life and this time he wasn’t ever going to leave you again.

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love pt. 5 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. Fem! reader]

TW: Cussing, teasing, little angst, little fluff, SMUTT!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: Hello everyone! Forgive me for taking so long to write this part. It's been quite busy since coming back from Elvis week and for whatever reason, I could not write anything spicy to save my life. I felt it was so bland and missing something! Then it finally hit me of what this needed heh.😏 I hope this was worth the wait! I'm happy with how this part turned out 🤭

*

You couldn’t sleep that night. Your brain would not shut off and all you could do was think of those damn hands touching you in all the right places. It felt even worse that John was inches away from you fast asleep. You decide to get up and read in the living room to see if that’ll make you go to sleep faster. You needed the space. Sleeping next to someone tonight just felt wrong. 

You turn on the small lamp next to the sofa and pick up something off of your bookshelf. You read the first few pages but you find yourself thinking about Elvis. About his eyes. About his hands. About how good he made you feel without you saying what you wanted. You were upset at yourself for thinking such things. You should have walked out once you found out Dianne wasn’t there. But you didn’t. You stayed and let Elvis take care of every last desire you had last night. 

You grunt frustrated and slam your book closed. You slump into the couch and try to get him off your mind. You must have laid there for hours and nothing was working. Those damn hands were taunting you even when they weren’t touching you. Your eyes finally feel heavy and you doze off to sleep. 

*

You woke up a bit jolted, not knowing what time it was. It was only eleven o’clock and you didn’t work til later in the afternoon so that made you relieved. John walks into the room dressed for the day and looks surprised you’re out here on the couch. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asks surprised.

“I couldn’t sleep last night. I didn’t want to bother you so I came out here to read,” you explain. 

“Mmm, okay. I’m about to head to work. Do you work tonight?” He asks. 

“Not til four,” you tell him. 

“Okay see you,” he says as he goes for the front door. He quickly stops and pats his pockets. “Shit where’s my keys,” he mumbles to himself.  He goes back to the bedroom to search for them. 

The shrill sound of the phone ringing makes you jump off the sofa and run to the kitchen to answer it. 

“I got it!” You yell out. 

You quickly grab the blue phone off the wall and bring it to your ear. 

“Hello?” You say very chippy. 

“Hi, baby. Just the voice I wanted to hear,” he purred. 

Elvis. 

You feel yourself crumble a bit hearing that smooth, tenor voice ring into your ear. He sounded like pure, smooth honey and was intoxicating your veins just getting to hear his voice again.

Baby? God, it was so sweet and endearing. You liked how it sounded coming from his mouth. You actually liked it way too much. Especially when he grumbled it low in your ear as his cock was buried inside of you…

You try to snap yourself out of the delusional memory and clear your throat. 

“What do you want Elvis?” You say low, just in case John comes in. 

He chuckles slightly, “damn, I can’t just call you to see how you are?” He asks coyly. 

You snap, “You didn’t for the last eleven years so I don’t understand why you would start now,” you scowl. There was a long pause on the other side of the telephone. You knew you got under his skin. You honestly didn’t care your words were borderline mean. It was the truth and it still hurt you. Even after everything you two did yesterday, it didn’t make up for the pain of losing a friend after all these years. 

The silence continued and he still didn’t say anything. You feared he might have hung up. 

“Elvis?” You whisper. 

“I want you to come over.” He says. His tone made your hair stand up. This wasn’t a question, it was a command. 

“What?” You hiss. 

“I want you here, now,” he sneered. 

“No,” you snap back, “I’m not going over when John is there,” you explain. It was all too risky. You didn’t trust Elvis to be subtle about anything. 

“I won’t ask again honey. I need you over here,” he says and the sound of the receiver clicks. 

You hotly hang up the phone and put your hands on your hips. This man made you extremely frustrated. Who does he think he is? Ordering you around like you’re just some kid. He had never spoken to you like this. 

But damn it curiosity was getting the best of you. What the hell did he want! What could he possibly want from you? You already told him you were not doing anything… salacious with him. It was the heat of the moment and you swore it would not happen. You were just there twelve hours ago. You were not going to let him have his way again. 

You quickly put a dress on and fix up your hair. 

“John don’t leave, I’m coming with you,” you yell out, hoping he hasn’t left yet. You put on some mascara and lipstick and rush out to the living room. John gives you a confused look. 

“Why do you want to go to Elvis’?” He asks confused. 

Your brain scrambles for a logical explanation. Nothing seemed like a good enough reason and you panic. 

Because he told me to come over and I can’t say no to him. 

“Well umm… that was his housekeeper that called. I forgot my pie plate and she also wanted me to write down my recipe so she could make it for Elvis whenever he wanted,” you say nonchalantly. The lie you constructed seemed good enough. John shrugs his shoulders not really caring for the story but doesn’t protest. 

“Oh okay whatever, let’s go,” he says as he goes to the front door. You sigh a breath of relief that he bought the story and you wouldn’t have to elaborate anymore. You quickly rush to the passenger side and get in, zooming down Sunset Boulevard, not knowing what state you’ll find Elvis in. Is he going to be really upset by your brazen behavior? No, you had to stay firm in your feelings. You can’t just forgive him like that. He can’t just waltz into your life again after all these years and try to act like nothing happened. 

With your wandering thoughts clouding your judgment, you realize you both were about to pull into the rod iron gates of Hillcrest house, seeing Elvis standing out in the driveway with a cigar in his mouth. His expression was blank and unwavering. He wore a dark green shirt and black slacks, with a colorful scarf that hung around his neck. A few strands of hair fell down on his forehead and gave him this dark, brooding look. You take a deep breath and pray this visit won’t be long. 

You try your best to act like nothing is bothering you. That this is going to be a brief visit and what you two did last night will not be even thought about while being under his roof. You nonchalantly walk past Elvis and give the most gracious and polite greeting. 

“Hi Elvis, nice to see you,” you say shortly, giving him a weak hug and walk into the house like it’s your own. He didn’t even hug you back. 

You walk into the cool air-conditioned house and don’t exactly know where to go. You didn’t want to be right in the middle of the entryway if Elvis decided to walk in right after you. You decided to go to the kitchen and actually act like you were getting the pie plate you forgot. 

The kitchen was clean and well-organized. There was lots of natural light that poured into the room and the smell of something in the oven made your mouth water. On the back counter, you do see your cleaned pie plate sitting there. The housekeeper walked into the kitchen and was surprised you were in there.

“Hi y/n what a nice surprise, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by,” she says sweetly. 

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry about that. I just stopped by to say hi to Elvis and get my pie plate from last night,” you explain. 

“Oh not a problem dear, I cleaned it for you,” she says as she goes to pick it up from the counter and hands it to you. “You’ll have to give me the recipe, Elvis was going on and on about how great it is to all of the guys. It was gone by the morning,” she laughs.

Your lie somehow got construed into reality and you don’t exactly know what to say but your nervous energy gets the best of you and you laugh too.

“Oh yes of course! Did you know it’s always been his favorite? I used to make it all the time when I’d visit Graceland. Any party he’d throw, I knew I needed to bake something or he’d pout about it if I didn't,” you giggle. That memory does make you genuinely happy. Those were such good times and wish you could go back and relive them.

“I don’t doubt it, honey. That sounds just like Elvis,” she says gleefully, “Let me grab you a pen and paper. Did you enjoy dinner last night?” 

You pause and have to nervously look always from her. You nod your head at her and try to put on your best smile. 

“Oh yes, it was absolutely delicious! You really outdid yourself,” you try to say even though you didn’t have a bite of it last night. 

It ended up on the floor along with your clothes. 

“I’m sorry about the little accident, we were clumsy and the plate fell,” you try to explain. She flashes you a confused look. 

“What accident? There was nothing out of place this morning when I got here,” she tells you. 

Elvis must have cleaned up the mess he made after you left which left you shocked honestly. Elvis always had someone helping him out with any sort of task. Even years ago, he always had a small group of guys that would go out with him anywhere he went. You see by the size of his entourage now that same principle applies. Even at Graceland, he always had two housekeepers working for him that would do anything he asked. They’d make any meal for him and clean up after him too. It really did shock you she didn’t walk in this morning to find the shattered plates and wasted dinner on the marble floor like when you left. 

“Yeah… umm, Elvis accidentally broke a dish but he must have cleaned it up after I left,” you say a bit timidly. 

“He broke one of the plates? Agh that boy really needs to be more careful! He’s always breakin’ stuff. But I’m glad you enjoyed the meal. It’s one of my favorites to make. I can give you the recipe if you’d like?”

She stops suddenly and looks past your shoulder, wearing a smile on her face, “Oh, hi Elvis we were just talking about you. Is there anything I can get you?” She asks sweetly.

You turn around quickly and hold your breath when you look at him. He was standing closer to you than you were expecting and of course, he was looking criminally good. You shouldn’t be surprised anymore but you still find yourself looking at him in awe. He has a cute smile on his face, the same one he’d give you when he saw you walk in the front door of Graceland. 

“No that’s alright dear thank you. I just wanted to talk to y/n privately if you don’t mind,” he says charmingly.

“Oh of course dear. I’ll be around if you need anything,” she says courtly and walks out of the kitchen quickly.

Now you two were alone again and the tension between you two could be cut with a knife. The way he looks at you… God, those eyes are scorching, blazing with an intense heat. He was like a vortex you couldn’t escape. Why would you? The way his eyes melt into your body and make you feel uncomfortably warm just being in his presence. You watch as his eyes drink you in. Like you’re his favorite drink on this warm June day and he can’t get enough of you. You’re coming to learn that you feel incredibly insecure when he does this. How his eyes are undressing you in plain sight and how he lingers on certain parts of you. You cross your arms against your body so he can get the message you don’t appreciate his rude stares.

“What did you want?” You ask more gently than you did when you asked him on the phone earlier.

He takes a few steps closer to you, not breaking his heated gaze. You back up slightly and huff when you feel your backside hit the counter. You had nowhere else to go and Elvis keeps walking closer to you. He puts his hands on your hips and slowly pulls you into his body. You both sigh and you look up into those big, pleading blue eyes of his.

“I missed you,” he murmurs holding you. He leans down and places a soft kiss on the crook of your neck. You take in a sharp breath when you feel his soft lips touch your skin. You try to hold back the pleased sigh you want to make. He felt too good pressed against you and he knew it.

You push at his chest slightly to get him to look at you.

“No you didn’t,” you mumble. He stares darkly at you, not liking your response.

“Why would I say it then,” he growls. Your heart gallops by his tone and the look he’s giving you. 

“I don’t know. We’ve only spent a few hours together, I doubt it was life changing for you…” You look away quickly, not wanting to see his reaction to that, “I don’t really know you anymore Elvis, have you forgotten that?” You say weakly. You slowly push at his chest more so he gives you space. He obliges and frustratedly ruffles his hand through his hair.

“Shit,” he grumbles to himself as he turns away from you momentarily. You nervously watch him pace the kitchen like a caged tiger, sighing and cursing under his breath. His energy made you feel on edge and you’re not sure if you should leave or if that’s going to make him more upset.

He stops and turns back to you, his eyes serious and dark.

“You regret it, don’t you?” He says shortly. You look at him stunned, you feel the air get sucked out of you.

“No, of course not,” you tell him.

“No, don’t lie. Just tell me. Do you not trust me? What is it,” he snaps a little too loudly for your liking.

“Keep your voice down,” you snarl, “I’m telling you the truth Elvis. I don’t regret anything. You just can’t act like everything is fine between us all because we had-,” you stop yourself quickly before saying it out loud. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the last twenty-four hours. None of this seemed real. His eyes were hurt when they looked at you. He didn’t like how you were dismissing most of the moments you had together so far.

He walks back towards you, trying to recollect himself before speaking.

“What can I do then? What can I do to make you realize my words are genuine?” He asks, bringing his hand to your cheek and softly caressing it. You couldn’t denounce how nice it felt to have him touch you so tenderly. You look up into his hurt eyes and see how he’s waiting on bated breath for an answer from you.

You place your hand over his and gently pull it down from your face.

“By starting to treat me like a friend again. I told you, I’ve missed my friend for so long,” you admit, holding his hand in yours.

He sighs, fluttering his eyes and shaking his head slightly.

“Honey, I’m sorry but that’s really hard for me,” he declares.

“It might take some time, yes, but I think it could be nice. We can start over and catch up. I know there’s been so much you’ve been up to and-,” You start to ramble but he cuts you short.

“No, honey, I don’t think you understand me. I don’t think I can just be your friend anymore I-… I want something more from you,” he insinuates as he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. Another spark rushes through you as you feel him touch you.

“Jesus Elvis,” you sigh, “No, we can’t. Have you forgotten I’m married to someone,” you say a bit defeatedly.

“No I haven’t, but you’re not happy. Just the way you said that sounded like it’s a burden,” he says bluntly.

You freeze and realize he’s right. You think you’ve felt like this for a while but have buried it deep down inside you. You’ve been so focused on just getting by and not realizing that the foundations of the house you made with that man, the one you made vows to, have detrimentally cracked. 

“Elvis please, don’t make this harder than it actually has to be,” you sigh. 

He pulls you into his arms again, trying to comfort you in any way he can.

“Let me make it easy then. I want you to trust me. I want you to come to me and tell me about anything you need. I don’t want this to be difficult at all. I really think we need to be in each other’s lives at his point in time,” he tries to reason. 

Maybe he is right. Maybe it all comes down to timing. Back in ‘58, it wasn’t the time to be as close as you were so he got shipped off to the army. And even when he came back, it wasn’t time to rekindle your friendship right away. What if it all leads to this moment, in this kitchen, in this house, with him holding you in his arms? Your stomach twists nervously, you didn’t like being out in the open where anyone could walk in seeing you two embraced in each other’s arms.

“Can we talk somewhere more private? I don’t want anyone hearing this conversation or walking by,” you say quietly. He quickly nods his head and motions you to follow him through the house. You prayed he wasn’t going to take you to the bedroom as that would be all too telling what you two might be doing in there. You pull at his arm when you two reach the doorway of his room.

“No please, not in there,” you say worriedly.

“It’s fine honey. No one bothers me in here,” he tells you. You check behind you to make sure no wandering eyes can see you and quickly get in the room with him.

You hold your breath as you take in the space once again. Only one drape was open today and let the golden California sunshine gleam in. You glance at the well-made bed and can’t help but relive some of those moments you two shared there. You sit on the corner of the bed, hunched in stature, not sure where you should start this conversation. 

“I do trust you, you know that right? Even though you’ve changed throughout the years, I know that my old friend is still in there somewhere,” you say pointing at the vicinity of his chest. He smiles because of this and nods his head.

“I’m sorry, but I’m here now. Anything you need, I’ll give it to you,” he says as he takes a seat beside you.

“I don’t need anything from you Elvis I-,” your voice cracking as you feel emotions hit you like a train. “You’re right I-, I haven’t been happy. It's been quite some time since I’ve been truly happy. I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore, you know?” You say as tears start rolling down your cheeks. He gently wipes them away and wraps you in his arms again.

“I do, I understand honey. I’m sorry you’ve been going through that,” he says tenderly.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to be sorry,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his body. “It’s just been so hard. We’re barely getting by and my acting dreams are in ruin. He doesn’t care about my feelings or what I want in life anymore. He doesn’t care about the career I want. He is just so bitter towards me. I can’t even remember the last time I was truly content with my life. I hate it all. I hate who I’m becoming... It’s like I’ve lost a piece of myself you know” you sniffle, looking hopelessly into his eyes.

He pauses deep in thought, “yes honey, believe me, I know exactly how that feels,” he says timidly.

He lets you cry, no words being said was the right thing to do. He runs his hand through your hair, soothing you without even trying. He makes you feel at peace. Just the very presence of him has you happier than you’ve been in ages.

“Was I able to take your worries away, even for a short time?” He asks innocently. You lift your head off of his shoulder and look into those intoxicating blues.

“Yes, you did,” you tell him.

“If that’s what you need me to be, then I have no problem with that. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. If you need to cry, I’ll be here to comfort you. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen,” he explains as he slowly slides his hand to the back of your neck, keeping you looking at him. “If you need me to show you physically, how incredibly beautiful you are… I can do that too,” he coos. 

Your heart skips in your chest, unable to take what he’s saying. In comparison to him, you did not feel beautiful or worthy of being showered with his praise.  

You sigh, “you know that last part can’t happen,” you say weakly. 

“Baby,” he sighs, caressing you in his arms, and placing soft kisses on your forehead. “Last night was… one of the best nights of my life. It’s something I’ll never forget. I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he says softly. 

That just about knocked the wind out of you. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you had thoughts about over the years what it would be like to be with Elvis. In some weird way, he knew you had. Especially after he left for the army. Those memories of the night you shared were etched into your brain forever. You’d lay there late at night, remembering how much you wanted him here in your bed, caressing your body and taking care of every last need you had. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you mumble looking down at your shaking hands. You couldn’t handle being this close to him. 

“Please forgive me for how I’ve acted. I should have taken care of you that night. I should have been here, treating you better,” he says, grazing your arm with the softest touch. 

You look back at him and can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. It was everything you had been waiting for him to say to you. It felt like some weird dream but he was very much real and telling you just what you needed. 

“It’s okay…” you mumble, looking at his lips. 

“I-, honey I want to take care of you,” he whispers. 

You shake your head, “I don’t deserve that honey,” you try to reason. 

“Yes, you do. Let me show you how much I want you. I want you here with me. I couldn’t sleep all last night,” he grumbles, placing his hand on the inside of your thigh. You jump slightly at his touch. It was so alluring and you had to fight to move it higher. 

“I know, I couldn’t sleep either. I was up late thinking about you,” you whimper. 

He squeezes your thigh, liking to hear that you were thinking the same things last night. He grumbles softly to himself when you place your hand on his leg too. 

“What were you thinkin’ about honey?” He asks gently. 

“Just not believing what had happened. That it was real,” you say blushing. 

“I know, I was in a bit of shock once you left,” he says jokingly. He scoots back on the bed with the pillows against his back. He reaches out his hand for you. “Come here baby,” he pleads. 

It took everything in you to fight the want to sit next to him on his bed. This would be the perfect opportunity to leave. Keep it on good terms and keep your clothes on. But he always knows how to pull you in and get his way. 

You go to him and crawl back on the bed where he’s sitting. Before you have the chance to sit next to him, he quickly lifts you up and sits you on his lap. You look at him stunned, not able to move from his very shocking behavior. 

“I just want you close baby,” he says coyly. “What else were you thinkin’ about that was keepin’ you up so late,” he says low, his hand firmly around your waist. His hands felt like quicksand. Every touch and caress made you weaker and melt into his lap.

“I was thinking how much I liked your lips on mine,” you tell him, rubbing his soft lips with your index finger. “And how I loved it when they gave me the most satisfaction I've felt in years,” you sigh. His eyes light up when he hears this, you absent-mindedly twirl the scarf around his neck with your other hand, feeling how soft it is. 

“Mmm, good baby.” He grumbles as he pulls you in for a kiss. There was no hesitation from you, your lips eagerly met his and you two clashed like wildfire. His heat consumed yours and you both ached for more from each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. 

He makes small groans as he kisses you more while his hands freely roam your body. You knew you said to yourself you’d try to denounce him, that you swore you wouldn’t find yourself in this situation again, but damn it you loved being in his arms. You pull at his scarf and take it off of him, tossing it to the floor. You sneak your hand into his shirt and feel his soft skin. He sighs and stops kissing you briefly.

“Was I right the other day?” He asks with a serious tone.

“Right about what?” You say a little confused and dazed.

“That you still think about my hands when you’re alone? When you’re touching yourself,” he says slyly, his hand snaking up your calf. You take a sharp breath in as you feel his fingers creep higher under your dress and rest on the inside of your thigh. You make a frustrated groan and bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying to hide the way your cheeks are flushed from the filthy thoughts you’ve had over the years. His fingers creep higher until they find your lace panties, resting his hand there. You squeeze at his arm, fighting the way your hips want to lean into his touch.

You feel your heart beat loudly in your chest and don’t know what to say to him. You just can’t tell him some of the things that have crossed your mind. He’s patient, coaxing the answers out of you as his fingers start to gently circle your clit. Wetness pools in your panties and you’re dying for him to be inside of you.

“Tell me, baby, I wanna know,” he murmurs.

You kiss his neck and grumble frustratedly. You look back up at him and see his pleading eyes look back into yours.

“Yes you were right,” you huff, placing a kiss on his cheek and hiding your face in his neck once again. His fingers continued to tease while his other hand helped spread your legs apart. He lifts your face to look back up at him and he has the most pleased look. 

“I know. I know because I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you,” he says as you gasp from the friction he’s giving you.

“God those hands kill me…” you grumble. He hums softly and continues to tease.

You grasp onto his shirt and tear at it frustratedly. You couldn’t handle how much you needed him. His fingers pull your panties to the side and discovers how wet you’ve become and he groans. 

“God baby you need me don’t you?” He asks, his voice low and gruff. All you can do is whimper and rock your hips into his fingers. 

“Yes, I want you so bad. Just like that night,” you whimper. 

“You wanted to ride me, didn’t you?” He asks mischievously. You suck in a sharp breath, not expecting him to ask something like that. But of course, he was right. That’s exactly what you wanted that night. You didn’t want him to stop you from taking off his pants and let you fuck him til the sun came up. You had zero sexual experience then but you were so confident that you could give both of you the pleasure you needed. The alcohol really made you more confident than you should have been.

“Yes, I did. I wanted you to make me feel good but you stopped me,” you say with a hint of whininess in your voice. 

He chuckles amused at your behavior, “I know baby. I’m here,” he says as his fingers tease your entrance. “Come and ride me now,” he groans. 

You grunt frustrated, you can’t take any more of this and need him. You pull at his shirt and unbutton it. You kiss and nip at his neck, leaving lipstick marks up and down it, creating a pleased grumble to form in his chest. The aching need he has created in you won’t go away without his help.

Your core continues to weep with every motion of his long fingers. You groan helplessly as your hand moves lower and gently rubs his hard cock. He groans silently and pulls you in for a kiss. 

“Yes baby, just like that. Please I want you,” he says as he takes his hand out of your panties and finds the zipper to your dress. He slowly unzips it and you get off the bed to take it off of you. His gaze didn’t look away from you. Your heart hammered away as you were about to let your dress fall to the floor. 

You let the straps fall off your shoulders and let it pool at your feet. You quickly glance over at him and watch as he looks intoxicated just looking at you. You cover your breasts with your hand and forearm. Your cheeks burn as he continues to stare and he swings his legs off the bed. He pulls you closer to him and places a soft kiss on your lips, pulling your arm away from your body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whimpers. You don’t respond to him, you can’t handle him saying those kinds of things to you. He pulls down your panties and caresses your naked body in front of him. You try to get him to take his pants off and get him to look at something else. He stands up to unbutton them and shimmies them off. He doesn’t wear anything underneath and his cock springs free. 

He looked damn good and you couldn’t help but stare at the man. 

He pulls your hand to get back on the bed with him and spreads his legs apart slightly.

“Come here baby,” he coos.

You obey and crawl on the bed with him, straddling his hips. He takes your hand and has you wrap it around his cock. You gently pump it and hear him groan as you do this. The throbbing in your core increased as you hovered over his length and rubbed it through your folds. It didn’t take long to coat him with your wetness and the feeling of him made you even more weak. 

You both lock eyes and see how badly you want each other. He was desperate for you, everything about him yearned for you and you couldn’t deny him anything. He puts his hands on your hips and helps you slowly sink down on his length. You groan as you take the first few inches of him, holding onto his shoulders for support. This felt better than you could’ve imagined, how he filled you so perfectly and made your walls hug him with each thrust. You moan softly as you take him slowly. He has the same pleased look on his face as he looks at your breasts and down to where you both are connected. 

“Oh God,” you cry. He groans in agreement, squeezing your hips tighter.

His hands slither up the sides of your torso to the front of you and squeeze your breasts in his hands. You groan with how this all feels and take a bit more of him. He pushes your body forward and his lips wrap around your nipple. He squeezes your breasts harder and sucks at them more. You can hardly function with him doing this to you. His hips buck up slightly and fills you more, making you groan loudly.

The more his hands moved all over you, discovering new spots you liked to be touched, you grew nervous again like last night and doubts invaded your mind. You were afraid this wasn’t going to be good for him. You weren’t good enough to be with Elvis like this. This wasn’t going to last. You had to be frank with yourself too, you weren’t experienced in this sort of thing. You had only been with one person he was not the adventurous type. You had to face that you were in a sexless marriage. He never asked you for such things from you which made you feel uneasy about a whole other matter you’d have to find out about. Getting on top rarely happened and you hated the way John would look up unamused at you. It made you feel small and unwanted.

 You whimper and pull at Elvis’ hair.

“Honey I can’t do this,” you sigh, lifting yourself off of his length. Elvis’ face is shrouded with concern.

“What’s wrong baby? Does it not feel good?” He asks gently. 

“No, no it does, I just- I’m afraid you’re not going to enjoy it,” you say weakly looking away so he doesn’t see your apprehensive expression. 

He gently turns your head towards him again, caressing your face in his hand. 

“That’s not true baby, I’m loving every second of it. I want you to keep going,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Really?”

“Yes baby, you feel so good, I can’t get enough,” he almost pleads. 

You can’t believe what he’s saying and see how desperately he wants you. 

He teases you by rubbing his cock through your folds again, making you throb more. You sigh, slowly moving back and forth on his length. Your core ached and needed more of him too. 

“Come on baby, take it nice and slow,” he coos. 

You nod your head at him and your breathing staggers. You hover over his length again and he helps you line up his cock to your entrance. You slowly sink down on him and feel instant satisfaction. He felt like heaven as your walls hugged him tightly and made your head fall back. 

You moved slowly, just like he told you to, and made you both moan obscenities with each thrust. 

“That’s it, baby, just like that,” he coos, rubbing your nipples lightly with his thumbs. His voice alone was going to make you finish quickly if he kept this up. You didn’t know how much you liked hearing how much he loved this. It was addicting. You loved getting praise from him you were soon discovering. 

You kept moving in slow, controlled motions, loving everything about this. 

“Take a little more baby,” he says gently. You nod your head and do just that, filling you more. 

“Oh god,” you whimper. You weren’t used to him still. He was overwhelming with the way he’d fill you in the most complete ways. He lets out a pleased groan, squeezing your hips to still you. 

“Fuck you feel good baby,” he groans as he lets his head fall back to the pillows behind him. You look away from him and your eyes squeeze closed, trembling on top of this perfect man as you slow fuck him. You move a bit more, crying out his name as your pleasure builds. You feel his hand gently move your face toward him and your eyes pop back open. 

“Look at me, Honey. I wanna see your pretty face when you fuck me,” he tells you as he thrusts his hips into you more, pushing his cock deeper. He felt so damn good in this position. His cock pushes on a sensitive spot that could have you screaming his name if you moved faster. 

“Okay baby,” you say weakly, staring into his luring eyes.

You can barely catch your breath as he helps you move a bit faster on him. You scratch at his chest and feel yourself become weaker by the second. You were going to finish soon and he was doing everything in his power to get you there. You cry out for him, begging for him to give you more.

“Takin’ me so well baby, fuck,” he grumbles, sending a pleasurable shock through your body. You loved hearing how much he liked it. You didn’t want him to stop.

“Yeah?” You whimper.

“Yes baby, doing so good. You make me want to cum in that pretty little pussy,” he groans, pushing his hips up and burying his cock all the way inside of you. You moan loudly and you let your eyes squeeze shut. Everything about taking him slow goes out the window and you move faster on him. You put your hands on his chest and fuck him harder.

His hands are firmly squeezing your hips and helping you move on him. He stills you when you’re stuffed to the hilt and trembling with need. He rocks your hips back and forth on him and you feel yourself crumble.

“Elvis oh-,” you whine. You feel your walls flutter around him and you grasp onto his forearms tightly.  

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby. Let me feel how much you love this,” he groans as he pulls you in for a kiss. 

You moan into his mouth as you feel him pound his hips into you. His pace was unrelenting and made your eyes roll back in your head. You tried to muffle your moans but it was no use, every movement had you dying. It only takes a few more slow, deep thrusts and you feel your coil snap. Your walls flutter and squeeze around his cock, making you both groan in pleasure. You claw at his arms and slowly swivel your hips on him as your orgasm rips through you. You let your head fall back, overwhelmed with what he’s giving you.

“Fuck baby that’s right, cum for me,” he coos. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the loud moan he just made you produce. God his voice somehow makes you feel more turned on. You feel your core squeeze around him again and he moans your name in response to it. You keep riding him, wanting to make you both feel as good as possible. You see stars behind your closed eyes and feel like you’re on another planet because of him.

Your eyes flutter open and love to see this gorgeous man writhe underneath you. He lets his head fall back and groans with each movement of your hips. Jesus, he looked good like this. You liked it when he looked completely fucked, when his breathing was ragged, and how his eyes drooped heavy with lust. Your body was getting tired, not able to move much more but he was helping you with that. 

You watch as his eyebrows furrow together and his mouth falls open slightly. 

“Oh baby, I’m gonna cum,” he grunts. Your breathing falters and you grind at the base of his cock, stuffing you to the hilt. 

“Cum baby,” you groan, barely able to move anymore. 

He squeezes at your thighs and bucks his hips into you, his length pulsating inside you. You cry out for him and look down at him in disbelief. He somehow felt better like this. You rock your hips back and forth slowly on him and feel his warm seed coat your walls. He curses under his breath and looks at you in shock. 

“God baby you feel so good,” he grumbles. 

“Yes, so do you,” you say lazily. He grunts louder as he feels you grind on him, giving him as much as you can give before your body was too tired to move anymore.

You finally collapse on his chest and cling to him. He tries to soothe you with gentle touches along your back and your head. Both of you struggled for breath and needed to be in each other’s arms. 

You start to lift yourself off of him but he pushes your hips back down on him.

“No baby, keep me inside of you,” he whimpers.

You lay your head on his chest and hear his fluttering heart. He was just as excited as you were. 

You both lay there for a while, calming each other down after all of that. You were ultimately in shock. You never experienced something like this. It was pleasurable, euphoric, and thrilling all at the same time. You never expected him to care so much about you. The way he practically begged for you. The way he encouraged you to keep taking more of him. It was so attractive. You couldn’t get enough of his voice. It was one thing singing, it was beautiful and melodious. But when he was directly talking to you, it was low and gravely, making you a puddle with his cock stuffed inside of you.

You whisper in his ear, “you felt so good,” you sigh. 

He hums softly, “good baby, so did you. I really can’t get enough,” he grumbles. 

“Me either,” you sigh, not believing the words that have come out of your mouth. 

He runs his hands through your hair, “stay a little longer please, don’t run off like last night,” he whimpers in your ear. You sigh, this wasn’t easy to try to say no to him.

You sit up to look at him, “you know I can’t stay long. I have work later and I was only supposed to stop by here to get my pie plate,” you tell him.

“That was the lie you constructed? That you desperately needed to come back here to get your pie plate?” He laughs.

You roll your eyes and sigh annoyed.

“No questions were asked, it was a believable story,” you joked.

“Well I didn’t have a bite of your pie, the guys scarfed it down before I could get a crumb,” he grumbles.

“Oh no you’re gonna starve,” you tease.

“Oh I’m not complaining, I got a taste of something else last night that was quite…delicious,” he says slyly. 

God save me.

“If you want me to stay longer, you’ll have to come up with a good reason this time. I already made up my story to get here, now it’s your turn,” you say smartly. He gives you a cheeky smile and nods his head.

“Okay fine, that’s fair,” he chuckles and pauses to think of a convoluted story to keep you here. He gives you a cheeky smile when he’s got it.

“I want you to bake me something, that’ll keep you here a few more hours. If you don’t, I might just pout about it,” he says childishly and winks at you. Goddamn it he’s good. You laugh softly and sigh, “fine, you win this time.”

He has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it. You didn’t want to let go though.

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis

@ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers

@idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos@thisis-theway@gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[dbnightingale24]

React

A Stepcest Love Story About Jim

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Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Trying to decide if I should do one update or two this weekend. Either way, I hope you all enjoy it!

Word Count: 4,963

Warning(s): SMUT (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Family Drama, Infidelity, Step-Daughter/Step-Father relations, Emotional Cheating, Drinking, Arguing, Forbidden Love, Lying, Self Loathing, Sneaking Around...I think that's it.

Summary: This is the final straw that breaks the camel's back.

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I do not give permission/consent for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of relationship/behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

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Chapter 3

2 Weeks Later...

Ever since you and Jim fell asleep holding each other close on your bed, you’ve done your best to stay away. Coming up with any excuse to reject any invite your Mother extends. It was silly of you to think that she wouldn’t ask Jim to text you on her behalf. 

Unknown Number: Y/N?

Y/N: Who is this?

Unknown Number: Uh, it’s Jim.

Y/N: How did you get my number?

Unknown Number: Your Mother.

Y/N: Of course. Of course.

Unknown Number: She thinks you’re mad at her because you won’t come over, and thinks you’ll talk to me.

Y/N: I’m not mad at anyone, it’s just better for me to stay away.

Unknown Number: We don’t think so.

Y/N: Jim...don’t.

Unknown Number: Nothing happened.

Y/N: Did you tell her?

Unknown Number: No, because there’s nothing to tell her.

On the one hand, you know that the both of you know that’s total bullshit. On the other hand, technically, nothing did happen. Plus, you know the more you stay away, the more she’s going to bother you and Jim which wouldn’t be good either. So, you explain everything to Ciara, and while she gives you a stern talking to, she agrees to accompany you to whatever your Mother invites you to.

“So, are you two a thing now?” she scoffed once she poured the both of you a cup of coffee.

“That’s not funny.”

“You’re the one who cuddled him-”

“We were both just drunk and overwhelmed. You know how I get when I’m drunk, and you know I only drink like that when I’m around her, Rose, or the both of them at once.”

“Fair point. Well, how do you feel about him?”

“I don’t know? Nothing. He’s my stepfather-”“Yeah, cause that matters.”

“Ci, I’m sitting here asking you to be my decoy. I’m very much aware of what can’t happen.”

“It’s not like you need someone to play devil’s advocate in this situation, but she did go out of her way to keep him a secret and make you the bad guy.”

“He’s good for her and I don’t need her thinking I took someone else from her-”“You’ve never taken anything from her.”“You and I both know that’s not how she views any of it. She had no problems until she got knocked up with me.”

“I hate your Mother.”“Yeah, I know,” you laughed. “Just gotta get through the Summer,” you smiled weakly.

The plan worked well enough, because whenever Ciara didn’t feel like being there or could sense that you were feeling uncomfortable, she could easily say- 

“Darragh needs help with Nora, she’s become really fussy lately. I’m sorry, but we have to go. Y/N is always our last hope if we can’t calm her ourselves.”

Well, apparently that excuse was working too well, because two nights ago you got a call you’d been praying to avoid.

“Jim’s children are coming over this weekend! You’ll be able to make it, right?” your Mother beamed as soon as you picked up the phone.

Jim had to be standing right next to her. 

“Oh...why would I be coming?”

“To meet them! They’re your step-siblings!”

“Uh...Ciara and I made plans with Darragh, cause he’ll be dropping Nora. We figured we all go out.”

“That’s even better! We can all hangout together!”

“Mum, why not-”

“Y/N, it’ll be good for everyone. They need to meet you. We’re all a family now.”

How the fuck is this your fault?

“Yeah, you’re right. Fine.”

“Why are you upset?”“I’m not upset about anything. I’ll see you then-”

“You don’t know the time-”“Just text it to me,” you bit before hanging up.

All of this leads to why you’re currently pacing around in your childhood bedroom. You don’t even know why you’re flustered. You already knew he has children, so why does it matter so much? Why do you care if they like you? It shouldn’t make a difference whether they like you or not. It’s not like you’re going to be hanging around much, especially when you go back to school, so why it driving you mad now?

“Hey, you okay?” Jim asks softly as he makes his way into your room, closing the door behind him.

You just glare at him as you continue to pace.

“What? This wasn’t my idea. We got to talkin’ about doin’ somethin’ small for the weekend, and she realized that my children haven’t met you, and decided to put this together.”

“You don’t want me to meet them?”

“It’s not that.”

“Well, what is it, then?”

“I don’t want them to meet you like this. All flustered and mad-”

“I’m not mad.”

“Don’t be a liar.” “I shouldn’t even be here. What the fuck?!”

“Calm down,” he begs softly, placing his hands on either side of you.

God, you hate how much you’ve missed his touch.

“They’re going to love you, today is going to be fine, and it’ll be done with before you know.”

“How do you know they’ll love me?”

“I know my kids.” “Jim-”

“Don’t stay away anymore.” “God, I can’t have that talk right now.” “What talk?”

“Don’t make me feel stupid on top of everything else!”

“We didn’t do anything-” “Jim, you flirted with me that night. We were standin’ outside my room, you flirted with me, and I liked it. I liked it a lot. Then, we stayed up talking and fell asleep holding each other...I shouldn’t be here.”

“Angel-” “You’re married to my Mother, Jim! My Mother! I can’t...we can’t-”

Taking a deep breath, he releases you and looks down at you. His eyes search the features, while you get lost in his ocean blue eyes.

“I don’t want...we just get along,” he smiles softly at you. “Aren’t we supposed to? I’m not trying to be some sort of father figure in your life, because you clearly don’t need one. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll only speak to you when you’re here-”

“It won’t, Jim. That’s the problem. It will just-”

“Here you two are!” Ciara whisper yells as she makes her way into your room. “Lover boy, I’m gonna need you to get down there and rein in your wife.” “What do you mean?”

“Her nerves are winning the battle and shes started drinking.” He scowls as he storms out, “fucks sake!”

You finally feel like you can breathe again. 

“What the fuck was that?!”

Shaking your head, you make your way over to your bed and sit, “I shouldn’t be here.”

“You tried to get out of it-”

“Ci, I shouldn’t be here. I should be as far away from him as possible, and-”

“Why...you don’t...Y/N-”

“It’s just a crush,” you quickly defend, but the scoff that leaves her mouth lets you know that she doesn’t believe you at all. “It is!”

“Your stepfather?”

“I haven’t even known him that long! Okay, this is exactly what I mean. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Alright, his kids aren’t here yet. Darragh is already fed up with your Mother, so it shouldn’t be hard for us to get out of here.” Grabbing your hand, she quickly leads you out of the room, “lets go.”

Ciara and Darragh exchange a look as he bounces Nora in his arms, and as  soon as her foot hits the bottom step, and he’s instantly getting up, Nora giggling at his fast movement. They decided to bring her last minute, and it honestly brought you more comfort than you thought it would. 

“Y/M/N I just remembered, I told my parents we’d come by today with Y/N, and it’s too late to cancel-”

“Nonsense!” your Mother slurs as she appears with a smile painted on her face, as an exasperated Jim follows behind her. “The kids are excited and almost here-”

“I figure we can leave now and just come back tomorrow for lunch or something. They’re here for the-”

He’s cut off by the doorbell ringing, and you close your eyes in defeat. Fuck.

You muster the best smile you can as you make your way to the front door, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

His ex-wife has mixture of irritation and anger on her face, but she does her best to hide it with a smile. 

“You must be the stepdaughter,” she smiles bitterly, and you force yourself to swallow down your irritation.

You still don’t even know how you ended up in this situation.

“I’m Y/N,” you greet as the two children run towards Jim, who’s more than happy to greet them and give them bear hugs.

You hate how much it pulls on your heartstrings.

“Hey Danielle!” your Mother slurs and Danielle looks completely taken aback.

It’s not as if you can blame her.

“It’s been a while!”

“I’ve been so busy,” your Mother laughs, engulfing her in a hug.

You just want the ground to swallow you whole. 

You shake your head and offer a kind smile towards Danielle before telling her, “my best friend, her boyfriend and child, and I will be here all night.”

“Glad to hear it,” she laughs awkwardly, once your Mother finally lets go of her.

“Thanks for bringing ‘em, Danielle,” Jim offers softly as he comes up behind you, mindlessly resting his hand on your shoulder.

The look on her face lets you know that she thinks this is Peyton’s Place, or something close to it. Once again: you can’t blame her.

“You’ll give me a ring if something happens, yeah?” she asks Jim.

“Of course,” he promises with a small chuckle.

Danielle gives your Mother one last look before looking at you and nodding, turning, and leaving.

“Who’s up for a movie?!” you ask excitedly, turning around and making your way back into the house, being met with cheers.

God save you from the hell that’s about to reign down on you.

**

“It’s like your Mother constantly goes out of her way to be a bitch,” Ciara scowls and you laugh.

You’ve done your best to keep your Mother at bay, but it’s been useless. You gave the children (your “siblings”) a choice between ‘Shrek’ and ‘Robots’, and you were so happy they chose ‘Robots’. Your Mother always hated Shrek (for reasons forever unknown to you), and you were afraid it would’ve pushed her further into whatever anxiety depressed state she was in. Turns out, no matter what, she was determined to push herself further into her stupor.

“They really seem to fuckin’ love you,” she slurred as she plopped herself down on one of the kitchen chairs, drink in hand. 

“Mother, stop,” you snapped, “these are your stepchildren! Get it together!”

“Why did ya even have to come home?”

“You invited me for the Summer!”

“Ya just had to-”

“Go to bed,” 

“Is everythin’ okay in here?” Jim asked softly as he made his way into the kitchen. 

“As if you give a fuck,” she mumbled before she took another sip of her drink.

“Stop it!” you snapped again in a hushed tone. “Go upstairs and sleep it off.”

“I’m your Mother!”

“It’s a shame you’ve never acted like it. Now go!”

She mumbled something incoherent as she grabbed her glass and got up. She glared at you before got on her tiptoes and kissed Jim on the cheek, then finally made her way upstairs. You wanted to throw the bottle against the wall, but you knew it would only make things worse for everyone involved.

“Angel-”

“You sure picked a real fuckin’ winner,” you scoffed humorlessly as you started to pace.

“Just calm down-”

“Are ya okay?”

“I’m fine, just take a moment,” he begged as he stood in front of you.

“This was her idea and...I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not? Me being here only makes things worse. Only makes her worse.”

“I want you here.”

“Once I’m gone, she’ll be back to the way she was before. You’ll be living in wedded bloody bliss again in no time.”

“Angel, you don’t get it,” he chuckled humorlessly as he cupped your face and looked down at you.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Jim...no. If anything, that means that I really need to leave.”

“I won’t...I can’t. We can’t...right?”

“Of course!”

“Then why are you lookin at me like that?” he asked softly.

You should’ve moved away from him. You should’ve said ‘no’, but you just stood there like deer stuck in the headlights.

“Tell me you’ll stay.”

“Jim I...”

“Say it, Angel.”

“It’s not right.”

“I know, but I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.”

“I’m your stepdaughter, Jim. This can’t happen.”

“Do you really feel that way? Do you look to me as a Father figure?”

“You know I don’t, but...you’re married. To my Mother.”

“Angel, I have tried so hard, but this...this feels right. Doesn’t it feel right to you? Like it should’ve always been like this?”

“Jim-”

“Doesn’t it feel right?”

You inhaled deeply before you closed your eyes, “yes.”

“I want to be yours, Angel.”

“Jim...stop it. We can’t do this. You’re just mad at her right now, and you have every right to be. You’ll feel differently in-”

“It’s never felt like this with her. Even before you, I’ve never felt the same towards her as I do for you, or for anyone for that matter. I didn’t know I could.”

“Please don’t tell me this. I can’t hear it, Jim.”

“Then let me show you.”

He didn’t give you a chance to even think before he crashed his lips into yours. You hated how natural it felt, because it was wrong. It was wrong on so many levels. The kiss was gentle, but desperate, like he knew it wouldn’t last long. Like he knew it couldn’t last long. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, loving the way your bodies meshed together as you tried to sear this moment and feeling into your brain. 

You knew this could never happen again.

He backed you against the kitchen wall and gripped your ass tight, before he hoisted you up and you wrapped your legs around his slim frame. The man didn’t look it, but he was stronger than you imagined.

And you’d imagined a lot.

You moaned as he started to kiss down from your jawline to your neck, “Jim...please.”

“I’ll do anything you want, Angel. Just tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimpered as you ground yourself against him.

“Fuck!”

“I just want you!” you assured him as quietly as you could. “I just need you!”

“Can’t wait to-”

“Dad! Do you need help with anythin’?!” his son called from the living area, and it pulled you both out of your trances.

“No, I’ll be back with the popcorn soon!” Jim called as he looked up into your eyes. 

When the hell did he even start making popcorn?

He slowly put you down as he let out a heavy sigh, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t...we shouldn’t keep dancing around this.”

“I’ll leave in the morning-”

“I don’t want that at all. Stay tonight and we’ll figure this all-”

“Jim, this can’t happen again. Ever again.”

“We both want it to-”

“This will fan out before it even has a chance to turn into anything-”

“I love you.”

“Stop it, Jim.”

“I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“I’m just a nice vacation from my Mother, and you’ll-”

“You think that’s all I want? Close your legs to me forever, I’ll still want you, Angel.”

“Jim-”

“We can figure this out.”

“We have! We can’t do this ever again.”

He chuckled humorlessly as he pressed himself against you, “is that what you truly believe? That this is the end of it?”

“Jim-”

“Dad!” his son yelled, which only made him chuckle softly.

“I’m comin’” he called back. “This isn’t done,” he promised before he walked away.

Since that little incident in the kitchen, you’ve avoided all eye contact with Jim, as well as any close encounters. You feel like everyone will know if you two lock eyes, and you truly can’t deal with that right now. You can’t deal with any of it. How the hell did it even get this point? Just this morning, he told you that there’s nothing to be worried about, and now...?

You can’t do this. You can’t fall for this trap. He’s just hurting, and it’ll all go to shit. How can he be in love with you? He barely even knows you, but he claims to be in love with you? How would it even work? It can’t. Your Mother will hate the both of you, and she’d have every right. This is so-

“Babe, did you hear me?” Ciara laughs softly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, no, I’m so drained,” you chuckle softly, shaking your head.

You’ve got to stop.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay over tonight?”

“I should stay. Who knows what she’ll be like in the morning, and I don’t want the kids dealing with her with just Jim. If the day needs to be saved, I’ll be here.”

“Well, aren’t you noble? Well, that and I’m sure you want to continue what you and Jim started.”

You can feel your blood freezing.

“What...how...?”

“Besides the way you avoided him like the plague, I was going in there to check on you, and saw you up against the wall, and him being the reason for it.”

“Oh my God!”

“I’m not going to say anything and I’m not going to judge you. However, you two do need to figure this out, and figure it out soon.”

 “I don’t even know how it got to this point. He claims he’s in love with me, but how can that be? Besides, there’s no way we can actually be together,” you groan, dropping your face into your hands. “The smart thing to do is to leave, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Then why is so damn hard for me to agree to leave?”

“Because you like him...a lot.”

“I’ve barely even spent time with him.”

“But the time ya have spent with him has been intimate. You both got to know each other in a personal way.”

“He’s my stepdad!”

“It’s not like you’re a child. You’re a grown woman.”

“He’s married to my Mother.”

“Because that’s goin’ so well.”

“She was fine until I came home.”

“She invited you home for the Summer! She has no reason to act like this, besides, if you didn’t set her off something else would have. She can only hide her real self for so long.”

“What if he’s actually good for her?”

“You think she can come back from this? Babe, even if he doesn’t end up with you, he’s never going to stay with her. Especially after that spectacle tonight,” she scoffs while placing her hands on her hips. “In case you forgot, she didn’t tell you that she got married.”

“C, this isn’t right.”

“I never said that it was. It’s backwards as shit, but I’ve seen the way you two look at one another. The way you both try not to look at one another. There’s something between the both of you.”

“There shouldn’t be. There shouldn’t be for so many reasons,” you sob as tears fill your eyes.. “God, maybe I’ll just head back early-”

“And go where? Do what?”

“C-”

“Just talk to him. He clearly has some things he needs to say so, at least, clear the air.”

“I can’t think when I’m around him.”

“I don’t think he’s much better, love,” she giggles softly as she gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I shouldn’t be this torn up about this.”

“The heart wants what it wants. Like I said, just talk. See what happens,” she smiles reassuringly before wrapping you in a tight hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I don’t see how it can be.”

“Just give it time. Everything in life requires time,” she assures you, letting go as both Darragh and Jim walk in. “Tell me how it goes.”

She gives you a quick kiss on the cheek along with a reassuring nod, before making her way over to Darragh, taking his hand, and walking out. You hear Nora coo softly when Ciara lifts her up, and a small smile comes to your face.

You’d choose her life over yours any day, honestly.

The door closes and you know you’re alone with Jim which, in some ways, is the last thing you want.

“Where are the kids?” you ask softly, avoiding Jim’s heated and heavy gaze.

“Everyone’s asleep, Angel,” he promises as he corners you.

That nickname is gonna drive you insane.

“Then we should be too.”

“We’re not done-”

“Jim, I’m just a welcomed distraction. You’ll get over this. Over me.”

“I don’t want to-”

“Jim, we can’t-”

“I know your heart rate speeds up when we’re alone, Angel. Mine does too. You want me the same way I want you.”

“Sex and intimacy are not the same thing.”

“And I never said that’s what this is.”

“Jim, this can’t happen anymore-”

“You don’t think about me the same way I think about you? You don’t want me in the same way I want you?”

“She’s my Mother, Jim.”

“Do you think of me as your Stepfather? As your Father?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Then what’s wrong?” he asks as he cups your face.

“This can be the only time we do this,” you breathe as he closes the space between the both of you. “Fuck.”

“There’s my good girl,”

“Jim...we can still stop.”

“We don’t want to.”

“We shouldn’t in here,” you breathe, mind foggy as you feel his breath on your neck.

“Anything and anywhere you want,” he husks before planting feverish kisses along your neck.

Fuck, is this really going to happen?

“Maybe...maybe we should wait-”

“I can’t wait anymore, Angel.”

“What if she wakes up?”

He’s quicker than you ever imagined as he stands up straight and leads you through the house. Almost in an instant, he’s leading you downstairs and into the spare room your grandparents had made for you to hide in when their arguments with your Mother got to be too much for you.

“Problem solved,” he husks before crashing his lips into yours.

It’s wrong, on so many levels, but it feels so good. He feels so good.

“Tell me this isn’t just sex,” you moan while he kisses down your body.

“Angel, this is so much more to me,” he promises, unbuttoning your shorts and pulling down. “I love you so much,” he groans, taking in your scent.

“Jim!”

“Been dreamin’ of this cunny, Angel. Let Daddy have a taste.”

You bite down hard on your bottom and swallow down your moan as he starts to suck on your clit. Lulling your head back, you close your eyes and grip his hair tight, quickly forgetting about all the guilt you felt only moments ago.

You gasp when you feel two slender fingers push their way inside, “fuck! You’re so....ahh fuck!” you whimper as quietly as you can.

Feeling the vibration from his moaning, has you ready to cum on the spot, but you’re not ready for it to end so fast.

Jim isn’t having that.

“Don’t make me beg, Angel,” he growls, looking up at you, fucking you faster with his fingers. “Give it to me.”

“I fucking...don’t wanna...fuck!”

“C’mon, Angel. Give me what I need,” he begs, using his thumb to massage your clit. 

“Fuck!”

“You sound so beautiful,” he groans doubling down on his efforts .

Your legs almost buckle as your orgasm washes over you, your desire soaks his wrist, and he fucks you through your high.

“You’re really somethin’ else,” he smirks as he slowly stands up, looking down at you with love and adoration in his eyes, while he slowly removes his fingers. “So lovely and all mine,” he whispers before delivers another soul stealing kiss.

You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only turns you on even more. Wrapping your arms around him, you let yourself get lost in him, almost completely oblivious to the fact that Jim is moving you both back towards the bed.

“Stop,” you breathe, forcing yourself to let go of him once you feel the back of your legs against the bed. “Take your shirt off.”

Lust floods his eyes as he takes a step back and slowly takes off his shirt. 

If you’re going to Hell, you may as well enjoy the ride.

Your hand lightly traces over his chest as you marvel, “you’re beautiful.”

“You’re one to talk,” he chuckles softly, caressing the side of your face. “If you want to stop-”

“We’ve already started,” you giggle softly.

“I love you, Y/N. I don’t want this to be over after tonight.”

“Lets just be here tonight, my love,” you smile weakly.

It’s not like you can blame alcohol, because you haven’t had a drink all day. This is a choice you’re making all on your own. You can’t even find it in you to feel bad right now because, with how he’s looking at you, the only thing you feel is love.

“Show me how much ya love me tonight,” you whisper as you undo his jeans. “Show me how much you need me.”

In no time at all, you’re both naked and under the covers of your long forgotten “emergency” bed. A very small part of you is still in shock over what’s about to take place, but as worships your body with his tongue, you instantly realize that it’s not enough to call it off and pretend it isn’t happening.

When you feel his tongue massage your right nipple while he sucks on it like it’s the world’s best lollipop, all regrets and guilt go out the window. 

“Angel?” Jim breathes, propping himself and looking down at you.

“Yeah?”

“Say it,” he pleads, slowly spearing into you.

“Oh fuck!”

“Please...fuck!” he grunts, gripping the sheets a bit tighter. “Please...please fuckin’ say it!” he begs desperately as he starts to pick up his pace.

“Fuck, I love you! I love you so...oh God!” you groan as he starts to pick up the pace. 

“You’re perfect.”

“Jim!”

“I know, Angel...just...Jesus, ya grippin’ me so tight!”

“Fuck...so close!! Right there...ahht!!”

“C’mon, Angel!”

“Jim...oh...OH!!”

You both go right over the edge at the same time, with Jim dipping down to kiss you in a weak attempt to silence your moans.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Give me a second,” Jim laughs softly, resting his head in the crook of your neck, while softly resting his body on top of yours.

“We’re fucked. We’re so fucked,” you laugh humorlessly.

“Angel, we’re going to be together-”

“Jim, it’s not like this is some regular affair. You’re married to my Mother. You’re my Stepfather. No matter what happens, this can only end poorly.”

“Then why did you do it?” he questions, pushing himself up a little.

You cup his face and caress the right side softly, “because I love ya, Jim. I’m in love with ya.”

Jim says nothing, he just dips down and kisses you passionately, and you feel him come back to life fore you.

His thrusts start off slow as a smirk comes to his lips, “I think we should have one more go, yeah?”

You dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you arch your back, “please!”

You and Jim spend the next hour or so getting tangled in your sheets, with you two mainly telling each other how much you both love and need one another. Yes, you don’t know much about the man, but you know that you’re drawn to him in every way that a person can be drawn to someone. Your heart, soul, and mind, has never reacted to someone in this way.

He is the missing piece you’ve always been looking for.

“Jim?” you question softly, laying your head on his chest and softly playing with his chest hairs.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t do this ever again. Ya know that, right?”

“We’re gonna figure this out-”

“Jim, ya married her. My Mother. Ya can’t-”

“I’ll figure it out-”

“There’s nothing to figure out, and you know that. You’re married to my Mother and this...this is for tonight only. She may not be a good Mother, but she is my Mother. At one point, you loved her and when I’m gone, you will again. You’ll see-”

“I loved a version of her. This isn’t just some fling with you-’

“She’s my Mother, Jim! I know that I love ya, and I believe that you love me, but this can’t happen. She’d never forgive me and I wouldn’t blame her. God, if she had any idea...Jim, it can’t happen again.”

“I don’t want that.”

“I don’t either, but it’s for the best.”

“If it’s what’s best, I’ll do it,” he sighs heavily, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you, Jim.”

“I love you too, Angel.”

“You can’t be here in the morning.”

“Just let me hold you a bit longer,” he begs softly.

You nod your head softly as you blink back tears. You know that this is the right thing to do. Yeah, your heart is breaking, and you know this isn’t something you’re gonna get over over night, but it’s what needs to be done. Tonight is all you two have, but what a night it was. As you slowly start to drift off to sleep, a small smile comes to your face. For just a moment, you two had each other. You had it all.

Tomorrow, you’ll wake up and all of this will be a distant memory, and you’ll be strong enough to move on.

...right?

~~

[sebastianswallows]

Beautiful memories — Chapter 1

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (aged up)

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child, and is filled with anger and jealousy and confusion. He just doesn't know the child is his yet.

— WARNINGS: angst, just a lot of angst (eventually there will be fluff and smut, but in later chapters)

— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k

— A/N: This fic is for a prompt by @pugsnotdrugs92, and I was also asked to write a similar fic by at least one anon.

Sadly, since she gave me that prompt, Pugs has deleted her blog. I have just learned this tonight and I am... pretty damn upset, I'll say that (not at her of course 💗, but at what caused it).

I will just say that if you get hate from anyone, block them, block indiscriminately until you have peace. I hope that Pugs (and anyone who deleted their blog as part of this mess) will make an account on this hellsite again one day <3

Anyway! On with the fic. Hope you enjoy it, my dears 🌺

Nobody had any idea who turned Sebastian in. It came so unexpectedly that they almost didn’t believe it when he happened. After all, it had been two years since Solomon’s death, and everyone in Feldcroft believed he died in his sleep.

“I know it isn’t me,” she said tearfully to Ominis one day, “and I know it isn’t you.”

“And it wasn’t Anne either,” said Ominis with a shake of his head.

“Are you sure? She still isn’t speaking to Sebastian.”

“She protected him this whole time, why would she report him to the ministry now? She might not forgive Sebastian, but she wouldn’t do this to him…”

Their suspicions fell on Leander, or the goblins, or any number of rivals Sebastian had made, but none of their suspects were likely to even know the truth about what happened that day in the catacomb. It therefore stood to reason that someone had overheard them speaking about it at some point, but that did little to narrow it down — for all they knew, one of the portraits had heard them and reported it to the Headmaster.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter who told the Aurors about it. The trio rushed through their N.E.W.T.S. half-heartedly, with Sebastian unsurprisingly scoring lower than he ever had, and in their spare time they spoke of nothing but the upcoming trial.

They’d even arranged for a solicitor for Sebastian, and visited him via floo in London, but he only spoke to his client in private. And every time Sebastian walked out of the wizard’s office, he looked more discouraged than the last.

The trial took place during summer, right after their 7th year ended. Both she and Ominis attended it every day. Imelda came sometimes as well, and Poppy, and Lucan — even Garreth attended on two occasions. He’d never liked Sebastian much, but he seemed to put aside his feelings throughout all of this.

“They don’t mean to send him there, do they?” he whispered as they sat outside the courtroom one sweltering afternoon.

“Where else?” said Imelda. “They closed all the other wizarding prisons centuries ago.”

“But he’s supposed to have done it while he was still a student…”

“What d’you expect? That they’ll give him detention for murder?”

“No, but…”

“You don’t think he really did it, do you, Imelda?” asked Poppy, leaning over Garreth.

“He didn’t,” said Ominis without even glancing their way.

“That’s right,” she said from beside Ominis. “Sebastian’s done nothing wrong.”

The trial went badly almost from the start. The judge was a grey old wizard in a funny wig, and there was no jury to speak of. He seemed to treat the death of a former Auror, even one of such ill repute as Solomon, quite seriously. The Prosecution leaned into that every chance they got.

Anne was called to give testimony in the first week, and she confessed under oath what she had found when she reached the catacombs, which was enough to shock the court. Sebastian’s friends took courage from the fact that she had not actually seen what killed Solomon, but it was only a matter of the judge drawing a line between a quick succession of events.

Ominis was called to the stand as well, but lied shamelessly. Even the threat of Veritaserum from the Prosecution didn’t sway him. He knew none of them would dare submit a Gaunt to that — a rare occasion of his family name amounting to something. However, him being Sebastian’s oldest friend cast doubt upon his entire deposition…

And then, she was called to give testimony as well. Unlike Ominis, she was not sure she could afford to lie, but nothing could get her to betray Sebastian.

All that she could remember was that Solomon attacked the both of them, and both she and Sebastian felt quite threatened by him, and then somehow, between the flying curses and roving Inferi, Uncle Solomon fell dead. But that happened, after all, more than two years ago, Your Honour, and it was in a dark and gloomy cave — and oh, what were they doing there? Objection. Relevance?

Ominis and the others congratulated her on well she held her own, but deep down, she felt like she had let her best friend down — her statement didn’t put the blame on Sebastian, but neither did it exonerate him.

By the time the trial was approaching the end, their former classmates had stopped coming, and only she and Ominis were left.

“He looks so —”

“I know,” said Ominis, not wanting to hear her describe him. This was on the last day, and the judge would give the verdict.

Guilty. Six months in Azkaban.

The courtroom reverberated with murmurs from the crowd — some in approval, others in outrage.

It was a horrible sentence to hear, but it was not as bad as their worst fears — people were often given life imprisonment for the Unforgivables. Fortunately, in Sebastian’s case, there was not enough conclusive evidence either way. Still, if they were to appeal, it would take longer than six months to even have a new judge assigned to the case, so they were left with no choice but to accept it.

As the Aurors led Sebastian away, she and Ominis stood together and called out useless encouragements to their friend, telling him to have courage, to be strong, have faith that he would soon be free, but he went with the guards without looking back at them…

Most of their former classmates were shocked but seemed to think the six-month sentence would pass quickly. They knew Azkaban was pretty horrible and could remember a few things from their DADA class, but none of them was truly educated on the nature of Dementors. Ominis was. He’d been in their presence when he and his father went to visit an uncle of his who’d been sentenced for murdering a muggle. He claimed it was the worst experience he’d ever had in his life — worse than Crucio, in its own way. He still remembered how the despair lingered inside him for days.

And as time passed, she became aware of something lingering within herself as well…

By the fourth month, she had to use concealment charms around her waist when she went out in public. Ominis figured it out on his own — it was probably that echolocation spell he used to get around. He’d merely been suspicious at first, but by the fifth month…

“Can anyone else see?!”

“No, and they won’t if you just stop —”

“But this could ruin your reputation!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!”

“I can’t believe you! How c—”

“Ominis, shut up,” she hissed.

“But you —”

“It’s Sebastian’s!”

“… Oh. I suppose that makes it better, then.”

From then on, Ominis supported her and helped her in any way he could — which admittedly wasn’t much, as he was still getting used to living on his own after being freed from his family’s clutches. And either way, the first few months were gentle enough on her that she could cope well enough on her own. The only help she needed was preparing her small flat to host two people — and eventually three — which meant some creative furniture transfiguration to fit everything in too small a space.

Christmas arrived in the meanwhile, then the New Year. They had tried writing to him every month by then, but the authorities kept sending their letters back — none were allowed for fear of concealed enchantments, they said, and no visitations were allowed either for lower-class prisoners. It broke her heart to know him all alone throughout those rotten months and all through the holidays. Neither she nor Ominis found it in them to celebrate anything that year…

Sebastian was released in February. They wouldn’t be allowed on the island of Azkaban, but they could see him at the Ministry, where he would be transported before he was officially freed.

She and Ominis got there at sunrise, and waited for hours.

Sebastian’s assigned solicitor couldn’t be there, as he had another case, but he sent a house elf to sign the release form in his name. Anne hadn’t come either, but that was hardly a surprise…

The two of them sat alone in a busy hallway, watching witches and wizards pass through — some going in, some going out — until finally, late in the afternoon, the Auror at the front desk told them that inmate Sallow would be arriving within minutes.

“Here, here, they said this will be the exit,” she said, pulling on Ominis’ sleeve.

Two large wooden doors lay open out of which a long dark hallway extended like a neck, and on either side were doors being shut and open of ministry workers travelling through. There was constantly a small crowd of people darkening that space even further.

“I think that’s him,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes when she spotted a dark ruffled head of hair.

“Alright, stay calm,” said Ominis, taking her hand to settle her. Since he’d realised that she was pregnant, he was instinctively more protective.

“Oh, it is! It is him!” she said with tears in her happy voice.

Sebastian was led out of one of those side doors — dressed in a grey and black prisoner’s uniform, his hands and feet chained, terribly thin and tired and bent at the back, and looking as if he hadn’t slept for days…

“Sebastian!” she called out, waving to him with the hand that wasn’t in Ominis’ grasp. “Over here!”

He looked up slowly, as if doubting that he’d heard his name called. His eyes searched blearily through the crowd ahead, not really focusing anywhere, but then they fell on her. She grinned brightly when she caught his gaze.

“Y-you came?” he said, looking at the two of them like they were a dream come true.

“Of course,” she said.

“Surely you didn’t expect anything else,” grinned Ominis.

“I… I need to go somewhere, they’re taking me to… to…” He didn’t have time to explain before Aurors led him around the corner and to another room, for processing.

“We’ll be here,” she called out after him, “we’ll wait for you!”

“How does he look?” whispered Ominis. “He sounded quite weak.”

“He looks… the way he sounded,” she said, “but he’ll be alright… He has to be. We’ll make sure of it.”

Less than thirty minutes later, Sebastian stepped back outside. He was now dressed the way he was when they arrested him: a faded green sweater and black trousers with worn old leather shoes. The clothes hung on his lanky frame, his face was all angles and shadows, and he looked as if he hadn’t had a wash in the whole six months. He was, of course, without his wand as well — they’d broken that after his sentencing.

But there was a still little light still left in his eyes, and it shone when he saw his friends again. He called out her name and Ominis’, and walked toward them with feeble brisk steps.

“I can’t believe it,” he grinned weakly, his steps growing bolder the closer he got to his friends. “I never thought —”

But then he noticed their joined hands, and her swollen stomach, and it nearly stopped him in his tracks. He only caught the sight for a second before she let go of Ominis and rushed to embrace him.

“Seb,” she cried out as she jumped into his arms. She clung to his neck like a lifeline. “I’ve missed you so much…”

“I’ve… missed you too,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

She buried her face in his neck while Sebastian’s eyes fell to Ominis — who embraced him too from the other side in an uncharacteristic display of affection, before he stood back timidly.

“How… erm, how are you?” he asked with a nervous smile, feeling more happy than he cared to admit, and relieved to have his friend back in one piece.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Sebastian. Gently, he dropped the girl from his arms and slowly pulled away.

“Of course,” she said, wiping her tears and stepping back, but keeping his hand clasped in hers. “You don’t have to. You don’t have to say anything. We just came to take you home. It’s alright now… You’re free, you’re finally back. We’ve missed you so much…”

“Home?” said Sebastian, looking between her and Ominis coolly. “Whose home is that?”

“Well… whichever one you want,” she said. “Yours or mine or…”

“I don’t think I’m ready to see Feldcroft again,” said Sebastian. “But I wouldn’t want to… impose on either of you.”

“What?” frowned Ominis. “Don’t be stup— I mean, don’t worry about that, Sebastian.”

“Oh, is there something to worry about?” he asked.

“Well —”

“We don’t need to discuss that —”

“— here.”

“— now.”

“… I see.”

“Don’t concern yourself with anything,” she smiled, stepping up to him again and embracing him loosely. “Let’s leave this horrible place first…”

They made their way out of the ministry building and through the cold London streets toward Diagon Alley, and his friends talked to him excitedly about the things that had happened: what their former classmates were doing, what they knew about Anne, even the latest Quidditch matches.

They probably felt less cheerful than they seemed, but their enthusiasm was overflowing as they prattled on about all the normal things people their age should care about, almost as if nothing bad had happened at all. They laughed, and smiled, and rubbed his back, and all the while there was in Sebastian’s gait much of the same imprisoned and defeated look as there had been when he was led out of the courtroom at his sentencing.

“We wrote to you while you were there,” she said as they approached the Leaky Cauldron.

“But the damned guards never delivered them,” said Ominis.

Sebastian listened in silence, and they tacitly agreed it was because of what he had been through. He would open up to both of them in time, they were certain…

They decided to have lunch at the Cauldron since neither of them had eaten anything since morning — and they didn’t even wish to think of the food in Azkaban. They ordered sausages and eggs and mashed potatoes and a great big serving of pickled pumpkin.

Sebastian ate the least out of the three of them — and what he didn’t finish, she devoured. Ominis hid his chuckle behind a cough, while Sebastian could barely look at her. If she noticed it, she didn’t say. She just kept smiling and laughing along with Ominis…

More than ever in Azkaban, he wished he could dig a hole for himself through which to disappear. The Leaky Cauldron was noisy and crowded, the smell of food made his stomach turn, and every scrape of a chair was like a scratch across his brain. Even sitting down was uncomfortable, his muscles too thin and his back too weak to hold him. He moved uncomfortably from one position to another, and let his friends prattle on to fill the emptiness between them.

After almost an hour, they decided to leave, and Sebastian nodded in agreement.

“I’m seeing someone at the ministry next Wednesday about a position,” said Ominis as they walked toward the fireplace. “But I can stop by afterwards if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” she said. “You’re always welcome, you know that.”

“Do you have enough chocolate at home? I can bring some more.”

“Shelves full of it,” she laughed. “But more is always a good idea. I suspect we’ll need it.”

“Well, I’ll bid you two goodbye for now, then,” said Ominis as he waved them off, blissfully oblivious to what was going through Sebastian’s mind.

“Goodbye,” she said with a tearful smile, letting go of Sebastian for a brief while to hug their friend once more.

“I’ll let you know before I arrive on Wednesday.”

“Not to worry, Ominis. We’ll be alright… Everything will be alright now.”

“I hope so…”

“And good luck with your interview!”

“Thank you… Although I’m not sure I want it.”

“Thank you, Ominis,” said Sebastian tiredly. “For… everything.”

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled. “I’m glad to have you back. We both are. Just focus on getting well again…”

Sebastian nodded, not feeling that any of their kind words were true. He disappeared in the green flames with her, wishing for once to not appear on the other end.

[obliqueblade]

Hello everyone 💛

As many of you are aware today should have been Technoblades 25th Birthday. His dad asked us for our way of remembering him on this day.

I discovered Techno’s channel back in 2019, and for the experiences I got to have as apart of the community I can never be more thankful for. Techno was and always will be an inspiration.

I’ve talked about this is certain places before, but I was diagnosed with a form of Lung Cancer a few weeks before Techno released his first video about his diagnosis. I was worried, but I was also comforted because while I was undergoing Chemo, surgeries, and drug trials; the person I looked up to the most was undergoing the same thing.

Realistically, I thought Techno would outlive me.

When the news broke, I was devastated, and I largely gave up on trying to get better. I cannot put into words just how badly it affected me, and then a few short weeks later I lost another friend to leukemia.

But, I survived this time too. I realized that when I died, all the memories I got to make as a part of this amazing fan base would disappear- and I didn’t want that.

However, I knew it wouldn’t last forever. For those of you who have seen my tumblr, my health has been steadily declining the past few months.

I don’t want it to come to a surprise when I don’t live through this summer.

I’m not upset by this, in fact, I’m amazed I’ve gotten nearly four years after being diagnosed. I’m grateful to everyone for being apart of my memories.

I’m grateful for this community- for remembering Techno.

I’m grateful to Technodad for making sure his son’s memory is used for good, despite the grief it brings him.

I’ve recommended to my mom and dad his videos and posts about how he’s been getting through his grief, and I hope that when the time comes it can help them as much as it’s helped me.

I’m not saddened to go. I’ve had a good run.

Happy Birthday Alex.

For my Tumblr peeps, don’t worry about the story. I’ve written how each chapter shall go, and while I most likely won’t be the one writing it after this coming chapter it will be in the hands of someone I trust. While the words won’t be mine, I know they’ll follow the way I wanted the story to go.

I’m not sure if it will be me updating again, and when it might be if so.

Thank you guys so much for all your support with this fic. I cannot express how much it means to me that there are people out there who have enjoyed it.

Take care 💛

[luvhughes43]

Period Pains | Jack Hughes x reader

request: Can I get a fluffy jack hughes fic where the reader comes on her period whilst they are at the lake house and she has nothing with her. And she just wants cuddles. Maybe one of the other boys makes a comment about her being clingy and is like oh someone’s on their period 🙄. And she gets upset

word count: 0.8k

You had just arrived at the lake house a week ago, and having gone practically all summer without seeing your boyfriend, you were just too busy to take a much needed trip to the store. You had stupidly left all your period supplies at home, claiming that you would just buy more. But with all the much needed time you were spending with your boyfriend jack… you just hadn’t gotten around to it. Which led you to the predicament that you were currently in. 

You had bad cramps last night, and with all the busyness that comes with being at the lake house, you had not clued in to the warning that your period was about to start. Leaving you stuck in the bathroom, in a house full of men with absolutely no supplies. 

Luckily for you, you brought your phone into the bathroom with you, so you quickly called Jack as he was outside hanging out with his friends. He answered his phone on the second ring.

“Yeah baby?” Jack spoke into the mic. You could hear the guys laughing and talking in the background.

“I really need your help right now” you replied and you could hear Jack hastily slide open the slide in door, “what’s wrong? Where are you?” he responded clearly worried.

“I'm in the upstairs bathroom” you groaned in pain as you felt another cramp hit you. “K im coming” was all he said as he hung up the phone. You placed yours back on the counter and waited. You could hear Jack running up the stairs and the fact that he cared so much about you made you smile. 

Jack knocked on the bathroom door, “can I come in?” he asked to which you responded with a faint yes. Jack walked in to find you hunched over on the toilet,  your arms on your thighs and your head down. “Are you good?” he asked obliviously. 

“I started my period and I have nothing to deal with it. Can you run to the store for me real quick?” you asked, and Jack just nodded. “Yeah uh just give me a list of what you need”.

You got out of your hunched position and grabbed your phone, texting Jack a small list of everything you needed. “Okay ill be right back, love you” he said as he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before walking out of the bathroom.

About 15 minutes later, Jack was back from the small store up the road with everything you needed in hand. He walked into the bathroom and passed you a bag full of your requested items. “Thank you” you whispered to Jack as you felt another painful cramp in your abdomen. “Of course. When you're done in here why don't we cuddle in my room? It might help with your cramps and stuff, "Jack said. “Sounds perfect” you replied and he left the bathroom letting you clean yourself up. 

After you finally got everything sorted out, you brought your grocery bag into Jack's room. He was already sprawled across his bed and when he heard you creak the door open he smiled up at you. Before getting into bed, you took an ibuprofen, and changed into a pair of Jacks sweats. 

You climbed into Jack's bed and he laid one of his arms across his bed so you could cuddle up into him. With one of his hands wrapping around your shoulder he snaked the other around your waist pulling you closer to him. You were both facing the door, facing away from each other, and soon enough your legs were getting caught up into each other as you snuggled closer to each other. 

However, your peaceful cuddling season was quickly disrupted as Trevor Zegras bursted into Jack's room. “Where did you go man? I thought you were only going to the store” he basically yelled as he walked into Jack's room. He hadn't seen you two cuddled on the bed but when he finally realized you two were wrapped up into each other he smirked. “Never mind then… I see!” he barked out a laugh.

“Go away Trevor” you said irritated that he disturbed your peace you had created with Jack.

“Ooo someones on their period!” he laughed as you got up and threw a pillow at his head. Trevor just laughed harder. 

“Seriously Trev, go” Jack said, also sitting up. Trevor laughed some more and lifted both hands as if he was surrendering. He backed out of Jack's room quickly, shutting the door as he went. 

You and Jack both laid back down and you felt so frustrated. “I hate when people say things like that” you say, turning around so you were face to face with jack. He brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, “I know baby, I'm sorry. Trevs an asshole”.

Jack started playing with your hair which promptly lulled you to sleep. 

[footballerimaginess]

Father's Day

This is a little bit of a different father's day fic that I have done, hope you like it. I will be doing part 2 soon. Let me know what you think of it x

Word Count: 2,233

Summer had finally arrived, your best friend was getting married in Mykonos, you were staying there for a few weeks as she was having the hen do out there as well and just getting everything ready for the wedding.

Being the maid of honour was incredible and something you were so excited by, but being incredibly single made things hard when you saw everyone with their partners, it was hard.

"You okay? you seem so sad" The bride came over to you and stopped your train of thought as she made you jump.

"Sorry, just thinking" you smiled as you looked up at her as she gently rubbed your face.

"You seem in your own little world, keep smiling. You seem so upset about something?" She asked you as you shook your head.

"No I am all okay" you smiled as she rubbed your arm as she headed off to mingle with other guests.

The drinks were flowing and you were having a great time whilst the sun was setting.

"Hi" you turned around on your heels as you saw Ben standing in front of you.

"Oh hi" you hugged him, practically melting at the smell of his aftershave.

"I haven't seen you in ages, how have you been?" he asked with a smile on his face.

"I have been good, busy with work but yeah I am good thank you" you smiled as you sipped your drink.

"That's good, so you came here alone?" he asked as you shook your head.

"Sadly yes, single as ever. What about you?" you asked as he nodded.

"Single too" Ben shrugged.

"Oh maybe one day someone will fall in love with us" you teased.

"Hopefully sooner rather than later, you are looking hot by the way" Ben blushed.

"Oh Ben, you always were a smooth talker" you smirked as you gently tapped the side of his cheek, leaving him with his mouth wide open.

"Ben bro, close your mouth" they laughed as you turned around and gave him a cheeky wink as you walk away as you could tell he was still watching you as you walked away.

A few hours had passed and you were still drinking, you were already feeling that the hangover was going to hit you hard.

As you walked back to your room whilst the rest of the wedding party was going to carry on drinking, you were somewhat not in the mood to be drinking anymore.

"Fancy seeing you here?" you turned around quickly as you saw Ben walking down the hallway.

"Stalking me now are we?" you laughed as you stopped so he could catch up with you.

"Me? no never" Ben had a huge smirk on his face as he took your hand into his as he bent down to kiss you.

"Sorry" he whispered as he walked back.

"Why what have you done?" you asked him as you looked at him feeling confused.

"I shouldn't have kissed you, we barely know each other" Ben looked down, not wanting to make eye contact.

"So? when has that stopped you before Ben. We have been friends for years, you aren't just a stranger to me" you smiled as you carried on walking back to your hotel room as you stop outside of it.

"Coming in?" you smiled as Ben cocked his head to look at you and tried not to laugh.

"Sure" Ben hesitated at the door thinking that I was only joking.

As you shut the door behind Ben he smirked and kissed you once more as you both took a pause.

"Are you sure you are okay with this?" Ben asked as you nodded as you started kissing him.

A few weeks had passed and you barely even saw Ben, despite being in the same hotel you hadn't even seen him. It did make you feel sad because you thought you had a little connection especially after having sex with him.

The last few days you had been feeling a little under the weather, you assumed it was just the heat or having too much alcohol because that was all that you seemed to do was drink this holiday.

For some reason, your mind was telling you that you needed to take a pregnancy test. You headed to the local pharmacy and headed to buy a box of tests to take back at the hotel, hopefully not getting caught in the process.

Opening the box and reading the instructions as you made sure to do it all right. Peeing on the test and now you were nervously waiting for the results.

"Shit" you mumbled as you looked at the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter.

You watched the pregnancy test change to 'pregnant 2 weeks' as you laid your head on the side, in shock knowing that you had a baby inside of you.

"Are you okay in there?" you jumped as you heard your best friend's voice from outside the door.

"Yeah, be out in a second" you shouted as you scrambled the test together and stuffed it in your makeup bag and wiping your tears away quickly before heading out of the bathroom.

"You okay?" she asked as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, think I drank too many shots just made me a little dizzy that's all" you laughed as you sat down on the bed.

"Oh okay, I can't believe I am getting married in the morning. I think I'll be too nervous to sleep" she smiles as you watch her facial expression change to the biggest grin.

"I can't either, it should be an amazing day. The weather is supposed to be incredible tomorrow, I can't wait. Shall we watch a movie and try to get some sleep?" you asked her as you could tell she was starting to get a bit fidgety and unsure what to do with herself.

The next day arrived, the big wedding day.

You opened your eyes, looking at your phone and feeling like you had barely slept you were in that much of an anxious mood. How were you even going to hide this from everyone, you felt rubbish and didn't feel yourself yet you needed to make your best friend's day.

"Morning" you smiled as you saw her wake up.

"Today is your big day, today is all about youuuuu" you sang as you quickly ran to get her some flowers.

"Omg these are beautiful, oh stop look at me I feel the tears coming on already and I have only been awake a matter on minutes" you laughed as you wrapped your arms loosely around her.

"It is okay, it's your day you can do whatever you want. Now do you want breakfast yet or not?" you asked her.

"No it is okay, a glass of water though or even a tea" she suggested.

The day was so busy, it took your mind off of things that were still in the back of your mind.

Luckily you didn't see Ben at all the whole entire night which was good because it was going to make you feel even worse than you already did.

The wedding was absolutely magical, but you were exhausted after playing the role of maid of honour. It was a very big deal and you were just so happy that you managed to make this day incredibly so special for the happy couple.

Once you had got home, life started to calm down and the feeling of having a baby felt very much real now. You had an early scan and just to make sure everything was okay with travelling a little bit.

Now that you were just turning 12 weeks, you felt calm and had the reassurance that you needed that everything was okay.

Your best friend and her husband were round and you had to tell them, you knew this wasn't going to down too well.

"I have something to tell you" you smiled as she looked at you confused as you handed her the ultrasound scan.

"What the fuck? you are pregnant?" she squealed so loudly as she threw her arms around you tightly.

"Yes" you laughed as you watched your best friend's reaction and they both congratulated you.

"How did this even happen? you aren't even with anyone?" she looked at you puzzled.

"Well I am sure you know how to have a baby, so yeah that happened. Basically blame being out in Mykonos" you let out a sigh as you looked up and saw them both looking confused.

"Wait what?" your friend asked.

"Yep" you shrugged, hoping she wouldn't ask any more questions.

"Hmm okay, guess you're not going to say anything then?" She groaned with a hint of frustration in her voice.

"I didn't think you wanted to know all the details, so yeah I am not doing that no matter how much you are wanting to know everything. Yes I can tell that you are pissed off with me for not telling you sooner" you looked straight at her as she gently bit her lip as she shrugged.

"Hmm" they both looked at each other as you could now feel the tension in the room.

You wanted to leave the room but it is your flat, so you couldn't exactly do that so you had to suck it up and basically get on with it.

"Well I guess that is our time to go, seeing you are in a mood with us now and won't even talk about the pregnancy. Sorry but what did you expect? you are single, very single and you rock up with a baby bump. Sorry" she shrugged as she brushed past you as you stood up.

"I am not in a mood, I just well, you know who he is. I am not sure if you'll be annoyed with me" you shrugged as you sat back down and Conor left the room to leave you both to talk.

"It's Ben's" you whispered as a small tear fell from your face.

"No way! You two? okay I can see why you didn't want to mention it. So he doesn't know yet. He needs to know, especially if we see him and you have a bump. How are you going to tell him?" she asked you as you shrugged.

"No clue, I haven't really thought about it if I'm honest. Hi Ben I am having your baby because we got into a drunken mess?" you laughed nervously.

"Just message him, he needs to be here for you because it is scary and you don't want to do it on your own do you?" she asked and deep down you knew she was right and you needed to tell him.

"Okay let me send him a whatsapp and I'll see if we can meet up" you smiled as you took a deep breath as you wrote out the text.

"Hey, how are you? I was just wondering if we could meet up x" you pressed send, instantly regretting it.

"You sent it, well done it is okay" she grabbed your leg as she comforted you, giving you a quick squeeze as you felt your phone vibrate.

"Yeah sure, meet today if you wish too x" he replied.

"Oh my god, he wants to meet today??" you exclaimed as you felt incredibly hot all of a sudden.

"Go and meet him, get changed and please text me with everything and you'll be all okay I promise" She reassured you as you nodded and hugged her goodbye before leaving the room to get changed to meet him.

"Oh my god" you whispered as you saw him sitting at the cafe where you had planned to meet.

"Hey" you mumbled as you approached his table and took a seat.

"Hello, bit weird you want to meet up with me?" Ben told you as you felt the nerves were hitting you now.

"I I need to tell you something" you told him.

"I'm pregnant" you blurted out as you watched his eyes pop out of his head.

"Oh wow okay, mine?" he asked as you nodded.

"Yes, it is yours. I haven't been with anyone else since that night and all the dates add up" you told him.

"Oh how many weeks?" Ben asked.

"12 weeks today" you smiled as you rummaged in your bag and pulled out a scan photo.

"Oh wow, that's our baby?" he smiled as his eyes examined the ultrasound.

"Yes our baby" you nervously smiled.

"I'm sorry you should have told me before, I could have come to the scan with you" he asked you.

"I really wanted to, but I was scared that you had no interest in me. We haven't spoken since and I was scared that you hated me for what we did that night?" Ben grabbed your hand.

"Oh that isn't true, I have always liked you and I want to be a part of this with you. No matter how scary it is. We are in this baby thing together" you smiled, feeling like your heart had melted at that moment as you weren't expecting him to say that.

"Thank you" you whispered as you both got up and decided you want to go for a walk.

Hoping that the next chapter of your life was going to be the best yet.

[elliesfavbae]

Are you nervous, flower? - first kiss with Ellie, part 1

synopsis: Your more experienced at kissing best friend helps you out

Pairing: Ellie Williams x unexperienced!reader

warnings: just a fluff, my first fic too (how do i crop a pic)!

part two, part three

wc: ab 1500

It was a hot summer day. Like 32 degrees celsius outside. The sweet space of your room was no better. You were BOILING, everything sticking to your skin. Ellie could’ve said the same, sitting next to you in your room. It was like she was a part of your room’s scenery at this point, she was there almost all the time. You have been friends since you remember, spending every while with each other. Ellie recently broke up with her girlfriend and she was ranting about it:

“I let her be my girlfriend for two months for what?! So she can cheat on me WITH A MAN?” She emphasizes the last three words

It seemed like she wasn’t upset about losing her, just was frustrated she “wasted” so much time, as she describes it.

“I’m telling you, she wasn’t worth it” You try to comfort her. But the amount of times she has told you about her break up within the last week is uncountable, and you can’t think of any good responses anymore.

“Yeah, I know” Ellie rolls her eyes at your answer and groans, throwing her head back.

“It could’ve been worse though. Like, you could’ve been together for a year or something” You try again but it doesn’t seem to work well and Ellie sighs.

“Two months is a long period of time anyways. You don’t understand, you’ve never had a girlfriend” She whines, throwing herself next to you on your bed.

“Hey!” You throw a pillow at her. “I still have time” 

“Okay, okay” She puts her hands up in a defensive gesture. She’s making fun of your lack of romantic relations whenever she can. “But you can do like, a lot of things in two months in a relationship“

“A lot of things? Like..?” You look at her, curiosity in your eyes as a thought occurs in your mind “Like… have you done the deed?”

“What? No! Ew, don’t say it like that” Another groan escapes Ellies’ lips and she hides her face in hands. “We just… Kissed. A lot. Unlike you” She smirks as she finds another reason to make fun of you.

You don’t say anything because you know it’s true. Yeah, you haven’t kissed anyone yet. It’s not like you didn’t want to, you just… Never had a chance.

“Actually, why have you never kissed?” She turns right to face you. There is no malice in her voice, just pure curiosity.

You drop your gaze down “I don’t know I just… I haven’t had a good opportunity, I guess?”

“Bullshit. If you wanted to do it, you’ve already done it. Seriously, with that pretty face of yours?” She jokingly strokes your cheek

Your gaze is still running away from Ellie’s inquisitive irises. Suddenly, it feels like the temperature just increased by another 32 degrees.

“I guess I am just too nervous to do it. I have, like, no idea how to kiss” You admit

A chuck escapes Ellie’s lips “Sorry, shouldn’t be laughing but it sounds ridiculous. You’ve never kissed because you don’t know how? Yet you don’t even want to try” Ellie really tries not to laugh but can’t help a giggle which she tries to cover with a cough

“It’s just not that easy as it sounds. Not for me” Though she is laughing, you don’t feel amused. You realized it’s true, you’re actually scared to kiss.

“Listen, I’m really sorry” The girl says when she sees your serious expression. Ellie puts her hand on your arm “What if someone… showed you?” Her lips curl into a playful smile

I finally let my gaze meet your eyes “Like a movie?” You awkwardly chuckle, trying not to jump to any conclusions.

“No dumbass, like a person would actually… teach you. Would that make you less nervous?” Ellie suddenly sounds kind and now it’s her gaze that runs away from your eyes.

I gulp. It’s obvious what Ellie means now “Like… you want to kiss me?” You ask, a ray of hope creeping into your voice

“No, I, uh. I don’t necessarily want to, I just want to be a good friend and help you out” She sounds so nervous all of a sudden.

“Well, yeah sure, you can steal my first kiss” I say sarcastically, but to be honest you actually want her to help me out.

“Alright, come here” Ellie’s confident again, she pats a space on your bed in front of her, inviting you to sit closer.

You take a deep breath as you change your position, fake yawning to check for bad breath hoping Ellie didn’t notice that. But she did.

“I don’t care about your breath, really” She chuckles again but it doesn’t sound annoying. Not anymore.

“It's not like I thought you would, I know you won't judge me and-” I start mumbling because of the nerves “fuck I don’t even know what I’m saying” I admit with a sigh and an awkward smile.

“Are you nervous, flower?” She brings her hands to your cheeks and gently strokes them and you feel dizzy as if the blood left your whole brain, but in reality it’s quite the opposite. A blush creeps on your cheeks. Ellie has never called you a name like that before.

“I promise it will feel nice” Your best friend half-whispers and you feel like the whole world is spinning. You must have a real stupid look on your face but you don’t even care at this moment.

“So,” she starts “It’s all about what you do before the kiss” She puts her hands down and looks you into the eyes. Then her gaze lands on your mouth and your eyes again.

“You should look them into the eyes, at their lips, and into the eyes again.” She bites her lip “Extra points if you do that.” You are so lost in this moment you don’t really listen to her anymore. You can smell her cologne and shower gel. You can feel how hard your heart is pumping, too.

“And if you’re bold enough” She stops to bring her hand to your ear and she tucks a strand of hair behind it “You can do this. Trust me, it works” But you’re a living proof it works, as well as the damp spot on your underwear is.

“So? Are you ready?”

At first, you forget words in your throat. You clear it, and answer, your voice just a whisper “...Yeah”

She puts her hands on your cheeks once again and pulls you closer. You watch as she closes her eyes, so you do the same. And then you feel her lips on yours. It doesn’t feel like you imagined, it’s wet and slippery. But she was right, it feels really nice. She sucks gently on your lower lip, tilting her head, so you do the same to her upper lip. You feel so many things at once, yet you feel numb at the same time. Butterflies in your stomach going crazy, the smell of her warm skin, soft lips against yours, confident fingers holding your cheeks, her saliva mixing with yours, throbbing between your legs. The only sound in the room is this wet kissing sound you are making and your heartbeat. And, did you hear that right, a whimper from Ellie? The kiss lasted about five seconds, but it felt like eternity to you. 

Ellie pulls away from the kiss. She keeps her hands on your face and you already miss her soft lips.

“So? How did your first kiss feel?” That’s all she says as if nothing has happened. As if she didn’t just kiss her best friend for the first time.

You touch your lips with your fingers, like you are checking if it actually happened. You are speechless at first, but finally manage to say something, it doesn’t even make sense. “Wow.. It was.. thanks Ellie”

“What?” She furrows her eyebrows with a smirk on her lips. “Um, you want advice? Another try? Anything?” She suggests, slightly amused by your reaction

“Yeah, right, advice or kiss me again or something” You start mumbling again

“I would say… Just don’t tilt your head so much. And don’t stress, princess.” She does it again, calls you a name that makes your face red “But to be honest, it was adorable how nervous you were.”

You finally regain your attitude but your voice is still low. You roll your eyes at her “So… Can you kiss me again?”

pics credits on pinterest: ambar, vic

[lanitalay]

One Day : Chapter 4

Azriel x reader : based on the netflix series by the same name

warnings: lil ansgty

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

This day used to be your favorite. For years you looked forward to having fun on the longest day of the year with the people you loved. But it's been twenty five years since Amarantha locked all of the High Lords Under the Mountain. Twenty five years since Rhys made Velaris impenetrable. Twenty five years since you’ve seen any of your friends, your family, from the Night Court. Twenty five years of fae becoming sicker, life becoming duller. All of the holidays made you feel miserable, but this one in particular. At least with Winter Solstice the weather matched your gloom, but on this day the sun is shining like nothing is wrong. A mockery, really. 

So you do as you usually do. Go to the office where fae seek help getting better. Do whatever you can with the little magic you have left. Hope that the tonics, lotions and powders make up for what you have lacked for so long now. Then return to the cottage. Bolting the door, shutting the blinds and collapsing on your bed. Mentally preparing to do it all again the next day.  Today you avoid everything except your bed, because last time you celebrated the Summer Solstice it had been with Azriel. 

Azriel who you had loved for three decades. Azriel who was so excited when you told him Thesan found a replacement for you and you were to return to Velaris. Azriel who was upset when he came to help you move because Thesan asked you to train your replacement while he went to the party Amarantha was throwing. Azriel who told you to stop being so spineless. Azriel, who’s eyes darkened when you said that your world doesn’t revolve around him or his whims. Azriel who left with a slam of the door. 

The blankets felt like a prison cell around you but there was no way you’d take your face out of them. The frames on the wall of people you can’t be sure are still alive glare extra harshly in the Solstice sun. Bec’s babe, now a woman grown. You’d missed the chance to see her grow up. Maybe she’s had more children. Maybe she’d forgotten about you. You hope they are safe. Pray that if you can’t get in neither can anything else.

You feel the bed dip beside you as Lenus lays down. “I made soup.” Of course he had, because he knew that today you would be in a state and he thinks that soup will soothe your soul. He stays there for a while, just keeping you company and you know he means well but he’s the last person you want to speak to today. Because he was Lenus who got in the way. He was the reason Azriel had become more distant in the few months before Amarantha’s reign began. “You haven’t visited in months, Az.” You remember telling him. “I don’t want to interrupt you and Lenus.”

“That’s ridiculous, you’re always welcome in my house. Plus Lenus doesn’t get most of the references I make so I have to constantly explain my-” 

“Y/n, please.” 

“What?” 

“I’m happy for you, I really am but I can’t.”

“I’m- what are you talking about?” You remember that breath he took like it was your own. 

“I can’t watch you be with him. It’s unfair of me, I know, but it kills me.”

And what could you say? “Oh, I- I didn’t know.” 

The guilt was the worst. Because Thesan asked you to stay, but you only said yes to get an extra week with Lenus. By now he knows you resent him for it. He won’t hold it against you, at least not openly. Yet, you’ve caught him looking at sunsets as his eyes sparkle for possibility, hope and maybe someone else. Until he looks at you, and the sparkle fades to his usual shade of brown. 

Azriel spent this day training. Letting Cassian command him to his most extreme exercises and doing them without complaint. Because this used to be your day but for a quarter of a century it has been a wound that wouldn’t heal. After training he will fly across the city until exhaustion lets him fall asleep.

He unfortunately wakes up just as the sun is setting. Mor banging on his door. “You have to eat!” 

They don’t celebrate anything anymore. Not with Rhysand gone. Not when you're gone as well. “It wouldn’t count without them.” Cassian had said the first time a holiday came around. So they treat it like any other day. Trying to keep Velaris running without its High Lord. Azriel trying to stay afloat without half of his heart.

He’ll join Mor and Cassian for dinner. They’ll eat in silence until Cassian breaks it “you remember when y/n first met Rhys?” Mor smiles a little “she was so nervous” she adds with a little laugh. 

��She was all like High Lords are not meant to get sick, this is not taught to us in training-” Cassian properly laughs recalling. 

Even Azriel can’t help but add “and then her face when she realized he was just constipated.” 

Mor cackles “he never ate vegetables until then.”

They quiet down. Azriel half hoped that you would punch his arm and say something like “it wasn’t funny, Az!” but your chair is empty and so is Rhysand's. 

“It’s not the same without them here.” Cassian was always the first to say it. Azriel knew they all missed them. He suspected Amren skipped out on these dinners because she felt some sadness for the current situation. Even if she would not admit it. 

“Do you think y/n got married? Maybe even had a baby?” Mor asked absentmindedly and Cassian kicked her under the table. 

“I’m sure she would never get married or have a kid with how things are now.” The general said pointedly. Azriel thought it was sweet of Cassian to watch out for his feelings like that.  But they were questions he had asked himself a million times before.

If you had a child he would no doubt adore it, but if you’d gotten married… He hates the way his heart twists when he thinks of that possibility. Last time he saw you, you were in love and in a healthy relationship.

But he doesn’t like thinking of the last time he saw you. How he walked out, slammed the door. Your jaw tight and brows furrowed. He regrets so much of that day.  What he said, how he acted. More importantly, he regrets that he didn’t crawl back immediately and beg for your forgiveness.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Fix You Part 3/10

Part 4 and 5 are out on my Patreon for Free!

Summary - Reader is hired as Ruben's assistant nurse after receiving head trauma during a football game. He has fallen into a deep depression on his road to recovery and does not accept much help from Reader as she only reminds him of how incapable he is.

Enjoy!

The weekend with Ruben went well. To your surprise he didn't give you much trouble. Nevertheless, you yearned for Max's return. However, you were surprised by the fact that he wasn't pleased with your work.

"Did you do anything on the list apart from giving Ruben his shots?"

"What do you mean?" You asked. He had barged into your room on Monday morning, crimson red in the face.

"Y/N, you're supposed to help with Ruben's exercises while I'm gone, how else is he supposed to get back to full fitness?"

You were left dumbfounded. Nevertheless, you felt guilty for being inadequate. Thankfully Max was a good guy, who really seemed to care for Ruben. He let you tag along for their walks that week, showing exactly what light exercises that were appropriate for someone in Ruben's position.

"The doctors say it's good exercise for his brain. But for someone with Ruben's background I want to make it a bit more of a challenge for him." Max walked  backwards ahead of you and Ruben. He carried two tennis balls in his hands, shouting, "On your left." and threw a ball to the left of Ruben.

Ruben then caught the ball with one hand and tossed it back to Max without having to pause his walking. Mind you that Ruben did this while blindfolded.

"On your right."

He caught the next ball too, with Max determined not to make it easy for him.

"On your left."

"On your left."

"Right."

"Right"

"Left."

It was a bizarre sight for anyone passing by, but for Max and Ruben it seemed to be a fun activity that they both enjoyed, exhausted by it in the end.

"One more time," Ruben said, still gasping for air.

"Nah, I think that's enough for today."

"Come on Max, throw them to me one more time. I can do it."

"Ruben." You said, voice concerned. He was not only struggling with his breathing, but his body shivered even though it was a pretty hot summer day.

"Let's take a seat." Max said and guided Ruben to one of the park benches. There you checked his heart rate by pressing a finger to his throat, feeling how his vein pulsated beneath you.

"I'm fine." Ruben grunted.

"Your heartbeat is above average." 

"So? We just did physical activity, it's normal."

"Maybe for a sixty year old."

"What did you call me?"

You mumbled the last words. "Ruben I just think you should take it easier the next time."

"Well you're not my physio, I'm not listening to you."

"I agree with Y/N." Max said, looking at you, nodding his head.

"Great, that's great. Are you happy now?" Ruben turned to you and for a moment you believed to see his lip quiver.

"I think it's time that we headed back." Max said, helping Ruben stand up from the bench. He seemed surprisingly disoriented, holding onto Max as you walked back home. The two of them disappeared into Ruben's room, leaving you clueless to what actually happened in the park. 

You had trouble sleeping that night, thinking about Ruben and how upset he got not being allowed to continue his physical activity. However, it was an odd thing to be upset about. Anyone in his condition would have welcomed rest, but not Ruben. And what was it Max said about Ruben's background? What did he use to do for a living before his accident?

You reached for the light beside your bed, pulling out your phone from your pillow. You googled the name Ruben Dias and was surprised to see a picture of Ruben pop up in the search bar before you even finished typing in all the letters.

"No fucking way...."

A loud thud from somewhere in the house almost made you drop your phone.

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

You slipped out of bed to check out the noise, but seeing as all the lights were off in the apartment, you immediately assumed the worst and grabbed a knife off the kitchen counter.

"I have a knife!" You announced, approaching the hallway where you thought the noise had come from.

"Oh, my God, Ruben."

He lay on the floor, half of his body inside of the bathroom.

"What happened?"

You fell onto your knees, pressing your hand to his face in search of wounds.

"Y/N?" He mumbled.

"Yes, yes, I'm here." You said, wondering if Ruben had been sleeping walking on his way to the toilet.

"Shit I can't see. Wait, let me turn on the light."

"No!"

You had gotten up from the bathroom floor, but was pulled back down by two strong arms.

"Ruben?"

"Please." He said. "Not the light, my eyes."

It was amazing how you hadn't noticed with your hands had been pressed to his face. Ruben wasn't wearing the bandage that covered his eyes. It made sense that he slept without it, nevertheless, you didn't expect to see him like this, his eyes big in the night, staring blankly at you like dark pearls from the depths of the sea.

"Ruben, I should go get Max." You said, quite mesmerized by his gaze. You could tell that he was trying to make out the contours of your face as it was his first time seeing you and you him.

"I'm fine." He said. "It's just my body...it gets like this sometimes."

"At least let me help you up from the floor." You tugged at his arms and were surprised to find him complying by lifting them up. You managed to get him on his knees, Ruben then draped his arm over your shoulders.

"Jesus, you weigh a ton."

"I take that as a complement."

"I'm sure you do."

You reached for the bathroom door, wanting to push it open, when Ruben nudged your body in the other direction.

"Y/N, I have to..."

"What?"

He looked over your shoulder, towards the toilet.

"I have to go."

"Oh."

As a nurse, the need to urinate should be a natural phenomenon to you. However, holding on to Ruben while he did it really challenged your training.

The warmth of his torso pressing against yours, along with the smell of him, it was all too much.

"I'm really sorry about this."

"Please stop talking" You pleaded.

Nothing could quite drown out the sound of flowing liquid hitting water. Although Ruben could be considered a gentleman for aiming at the side of the bowl to dim the noise. Nevertheless, this was happening, you were helping a grown man urinate, a man whose eyes were visible at night and wouldn't stop staring at your face as if the words "look at me" were written across your forehead.

"There, all done." He sighed.

"Great."

He went to wash his hands as you stood beside him in case he would fall. You then escorted him back to his bedroom, helping Ruben back into his bed.

"Thank you." He said, embarrassment in his tone. "I didn't mean for any of this. I thought I could make it to the bathroom on my own."

"It's okay, Ruben. It's a part of my job."

"Right, your job." He looked like he wanted to tell you something else, but ultimately changed his mind.

"I should go back to my room."

He nodded. " Of course, thank you Y/N."

"Goodnight, Ruben."

That night you went to bed dreaming about dark pearls from the depths of the sea. You went to bed dreaming about the most handsome pair of eyes you've ever seen.

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