#but they can also happen at the opening of a new business
Text
Enchanting Lullaby - Insomniac Alastor x Sea Siren Reader
❥Summary: Everyone in the hotel knows that Alastor does not sleep, but what happens when he seeks you out and makes a request only you can provide for him.
❥Tags: Alastor x reader, sea siren, siren reader, insomniac, insomniac alastor, alastor does not sleep, fem reader
❥Notes: I am OBSESSED with siren songs. I find them so hypnotic and beautiful, so I wanted to write a story with a siren reader with Alastor. Wanted to give a shoutout to my friend ValerieWinks777 for helping me with this story. I recommend checking her out on Wattpad, she does amazing Alastor x reader stories.
Spending years in hell, forming unbreakable deals and ripping apart demons in his broadcasts have harden Alastor to put aside certain feelings and tasks, including sleep. Well, he used to sleep during the time when he was alive, honestly he is surprised he even could after all the horrible murders he committed. He didn't just decide one day that he wasn't going to slumber anymore, this change started slowly. Indulging gleefully in the wrath he enjoyed created new enemies, enemies he knew posed no threat, but the longer that list got, the less often he slept, as he rather stay awake and attack them head on if any of them even considered wanting to mess with the radio demon.
A couple days after the extermination war and rebuilding the hotel, it had gotten surprisingly more busy with new demons arriving to gander at the hotel, and possibly consider joining. Charlie had been working like a mad women, tending to make sure everything was perfect for the guests and also trying to lessen some of the workload on the others. She greatly appreciate everything that happened before, so she didn't want them lifting a finger with anything. Alastor, however, was not one to just stand there and not offer his assistance. He may still consider the hotel a bunch of wack-a-doo nonsense, but he has grown fond of Charlie and her beliefs, also considering how much of a gentleman he was, he wasn't going to let poor Charlie do everything herself. Charlie waved her hands in the air, saying profusely that it was okay and Alastor didn't need to help, but Alastor was persistent. "Ah ah ah. Charlie, my dear. As the facility manager of the hotel, it is substantial for me to offer my assistance. Now then! What humble tasks need to be dealt with?" Alastor said with a smile, as he bent down, putting his face closer to Charlie's. Charlie gave a sigh and small smile back to Alastor and told him of the assignments that needed to be done for today.
Alastor went about and began completing each task, stockpiling the drinks for the bar, making sure the rooms were all spick and span, obtain groceries for the kitchen and also prepare dinner for later tonight. Alastor had finally reach the end of the tasks and softly heaved a sigh. Performing small things like this was nothing to him, as he preferred to finish the job quickly and properly and not dwindle on it, but he had used a great amount of his powers to fulfill each one of them, causing him to feel more drained then usual. Alastor, for the first time, felt the need to take a good due rest, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy since it has been a millennium since he last slept. Pondering through his thoughts, he came up with an idea that could help him, as he made his way upstairs.
Knocking on your door, Alastor patiently waited, as the door to your room opened, with you standing on the other side of it, wearing your cozy pajamas. You looked up at Alastor with a smile, head tilted to the side. "Oh good evening, Al. Is there something you needed?" Alastor smiled down at you, showcasing more of his teeth. "Yes, my dear! I have encountered a bit of a dilemma and I need your assistance with the matter. Would it be alright if you could come to my chambers?" He observed your eyes glaze with confusion before you nodded your head, and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. Alastor had hooked his arm with yours, as the both of you walked towards his hotel room.
Upon entering his room, you glanced around his room, admiring the pocket dimension he had created. It gave a calm tranquil vibe in the room, along with the static music playing from the radio in his room. Al had said nothing when the both of you had entered his chambers, and you wondered if he was displeased with something. "Um.... Am I in trouble?" You question him, twiddling your fingers together. Alastor quickly turned back around to face you, eyes widen before going back to normal, while a soft smile was placed on his face. "Heavens no! You are no form of trouble my dear, I can assure you. There is just something I need from you however." He walk closer into his room, removing his coat jacket and setting it on the chair next to his desk, revealing his red striped shirt that was hidden. He ventured closer to his bed, removing his black shoes before taking a seat on it while crossing his legs. His eyes went back up to look at you, extending his hand out, inviting you to join him.
Your face flushed for a bit, as you made your way over to where Alastor resided, taking a seat on his bed, facing him. The both of you sat in silence, before Alastor broke it. "If my memory serves me correctly, your demon form is similar to that of a sea siren. Am I correct, my dear?" He turned to face you, peering down at you while you looked at him. Your answer to his question was a small nod. "Splendid! That will be quite useful for me!" Alastor seemed almost giddy with joy, making you feel a bit confused. "Can I ask a question?" You asked Alastor. Alastor continued to stare at you, telling you to go ahead. "Why is my nature going to be beneficial for you?" Alastor eyes gazed into yours, as they were filled with confusion. Heaving a sigh, Alastor slowly grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "As much as it pains me to say this, but I need your help, darling. I am aware of the soothing hypnotic voices of sirens, how there gorgeous songs allure sailors. I am asking you if you could sing for me, my dear." Alastor smile almost dropped a bit, his face holding a slight melancholic look as he continued to stare at you. You continued to look at him, before you asked him why you needed to sing to him.
Alastor heaved another sigh, rubbing his hair with his other hand. "It has been a drastically long time, since I have enjoyed the comforts of my own bed. However, falling asleep has not been an easy task for me, and along with the chores that I have completed for sweet Charlie. I crave a good rest now more then ever." Upon observing his face, you noticed the dark circles that appeared underneath his eyes. His smile as well seemed a bit forced, almost as if he was having a hard time keeping it up. Your heart ached for him, as you placed you squeezed his hand that was still holding yours. "I will help you Alastor, but there is something you have to do for me." Alastor raised an eyebrow at you, asking what it was that you needed. "Well, could you use your powers to soundproof the room? My siren voice may reach the others, and cause them to fall asleep as well." SNAP! Within an instant, Alastor had snapped his fingers, preventing any sound from reaching out the room.
With a nod of your head, you moved further back on the bed, waiting to make room for your transformation. A dark light enveloped your form, as your body became covered in black and white scales, and your legs had morphed together into a long mermaid tail, causing your pajama pants to slide off. Alastor continued to gaze at you in amazement, finding your form truly haunting while incredibly beautiful. Once you had completed your transformation, you leaned back against the pillow, raising both your hands up towards Alastor. Alastor stood stiff, confused at your actions. "Come here." you said, keeping your arms stretched out. Alastor realized what you meant, his cheeks become a tad flushed. "M-my dear, there is no need-" His words were cut off, as you pulled him down. His head had landed on your chest, as his whole body was placed on top of you, with his legs rested on your lower tail. Your arms wrapped around him, placing one against his hair, giving it a rub. "Shh its alright Alastor. I just want you to be comfortable okay?" Alastor hadn't moved when he was on top of you, apparently not use to actions like this. His body soon began to relax, as he nuzzled closer into your chest, moving his arms to wrap them around your back. His actions caused a soft smile to appear on your face, as you continued to play with his hair. "I'm going to start singing now, are you ready?" You looked down, waiting for his answer. Alastor peaked one of his eyes out from your chest, giving you a small nod. Giggling at his cuteness, you moved the hand from his hand to rub at his cheek, before placing it back on his red locks.
Taking a few deep breaths, you leaned your head back against the pillow. Soon, you opened your mouth, and began to sing.
youtube
(THIS SONG IS SO SOOTHING, I LOVE IT!!)
𝄞 Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray
Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay
Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain
Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eye as black as coal
My happiness attend him wherever he may go
From Tower Hill to Blackwell, I'll wander, weep and moan
All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair
And I have left my parents and three thousands pounds a year
Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be
Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea
While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn
And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold 𝄞
Your beautiful song had ended, leaving the room in a calming silence. Looking down, you motioned your head to look at Alastor. His head was still nuzzled on your chest, the one eye that had peaked to look at you had closed. His breathing was slowed and he was letting out small static-like snores and a few purrs. Smiling warmly, you leaned closer to his head, giving it a soft kiss. Your hand left his head, and began to reach for the blanket nearby on the bed, motioning it to have it lay over both you and Alastor. You placed your hand back on his hair, giving it a comforting rub, as you leaned back against the pillow, whispering, "Good night Alastor."
Tag List:
@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic
@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,
@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,
@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,
@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,
@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao
, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,
@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,
@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,
@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,
@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,
@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,
@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,
@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,
@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,
@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,
@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,
@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,
@lousypotatoes
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#sea siren#siren#sleeping with sirens#siren song#ASMR#my jolly sailor bold#insominac#alastor x reader#alastor x female reader#alastor x siren reader#x reader#Youtube#youtube music#pirates of the caribbean#mermaid song#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#the radio demon x reader#alastor the radio demon#sea siren reader#sea creatures#hazbin hotel fanfiction#new fanfic#fanfiction#insomniac alastor#soft alastor#alastor hazbin#alastor
183 notes
·
View notes
Note
I saw you mentioned you liked kid fic and had bookmarks— do you have any reccs for maxiel kid fics?❤️❤️
do i ever!!!! one thing about me is that i will eat kid fics up, like i think i’ve read about all the tagged kid fics in the maxiel tag. i love seeing what names authors choose for their children and it just makes me happy. here's a couple and if you want more lmk!
listen to the slow parts by @nobrakesdown [T-7.2k]
Neither Max or Daniel are the one to find the baby. That honor belongs to Christian, and Christian alone.
a lil you, a lil me, a perfect being by 3_33 (@maxcuntstappen) [G-4.8k]
The three of them stand outside, looking at the entrance, August in the middle, clutching tightly onto Max and Daniel’s hands.
“Okay, I need you both to repeat after me.”
“Daniel, we already did this in the car. Can we please just go in?” Max asks, desperately, which only confirms to Daniel the need to remind all of them of the ground rules.
“Baby, please. We need to remember, okay? We are here to meet some new friends and play with them. It is okay if we don’t meet anybody we like. We can always come again. There is no need for us to be upset. Yeah?”
“Yes, Daddy,” August says and drops his hand to give Daniel a mock salute and Daniel really didn’t know he could love someone so much.
“Max,” Daniel implores, knowing that it is as important that his husband acknowledges the plan as much as their kid.
“Yes, yes, Daniel, okay,” Max rolls his eyes but nods in agreement.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Daniel says. The three of them walk in through the doors.
Or: Daniel and Max visit an animal shelter for their son, August's fourth birthday. Daniel is apprehensive. Max and August are vibrating out of their skin.
That's Where I Am by @flawlessassholes [E-47.8k-6/8]
“Her name is Emily,” Daniel says softly.
Max’s eyes snap down to the baby, still sleeping on Daniel’s chest. It’s—she’s snoring a little. In that snuffly way that babies snore.
“Short for Emilian.”
His eyes snap back to Daniel’s face, so serious, and Max knows it’s a joke, of course, but he still opens his mouth to say—
Then Daniel’s face breaks into that wide grin, the real one, the one Max hasn’t seen since. Well. In a while. It feels at once so familiar, and also like seeing something rise from the dead.
There’s a month between Melbourne and Baku. A month to convince Daniel to return to racing. A month to learn and relearn how to love. A month for everything to feel right amidst a season that has felt nothing but wrong. A month to create a family, and a month to maybe lose it all.
keep me in the open by Aurelia (Lily_Rizzy) (@lilyrizzy) [E-11.7k]
"Chrissy Baker sounds like a cunt,” Daniel says, then cringes at the pointed look his mum shoots him. “What? It’s not like they’re old enough to repeat that yet.”
Grace laughs, the sound audible now over Livia’s cries, which are quickly fading into miserable whimpers. Of course, she behaves for grandma, and not the dad who dotes on her endlessly, feeds her, cuddles her, and wipes her smelly ass.
“Three words, Daniel,” she says, eyebrows raised. “Cash, money, bitches.”
or, Daniel navigates bed times, bath times and jealousy, while Max races his last season in Formula One
summer sun after the rain by gentleau [T-11.7k]
“Papà? Is Max your friend?”
“He used to be.”
then you came by beforemidnight [G-4.5k]
Daniel looks at Max swiftly but pointedly. Smiling, he looks back at the camera. “Marrying him was the easiest decision of my life.”
(don't let) the days go by citydreaming (@thewindowatkirkland) [M-11.3k]
“Hey” Daniel says “thanks for coming over.”
“Is now a good time? If you are busy I can come back later.”
“Now is fine, she’s already asleep so we should be able to talk without being interrupted.”
“Talk about how you have a daughter.”
Daniel bites his lip nervously “yeah, about that.”
OR: single dad daniel returns to the grid for one final year with red bull, max doesn’t plan on falling in love with him and his daughter, but somehow it happens anyway.
#i have also gone through all 187 pages of the maxiel tag alphabetically by author but we don’t need to talk about that#me my ao3 bookmarks and google sheets against the world#f1 fic rec#maxiel
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
YOUR CELESTIAL MAJESTY • SAGAU
(part 0 here)
was listening to TruE on loop while writing the last part of this, it's genuinely such a good song ugwvdya
also can you spot the contradiction ;D it's plot relevant i promise
not proofread, dont bully me ill write a thesis on why youre a meanie
—
you had long deleted genshin, since you had other things to do. you had wanted to go back to the game for a while now, now that you were less busy, but there was just one little problem.
it was now taking up nearly triple the amount of space that it was when you uninstalled it. around 300 whole gigabytes.
jesus christ, what phone can even handle this???
your phone, apparently. because as you opened the game to see if maybe a miracle would happen and that if maybe they would just, like, remove half of the things in the game, it just… kinda loaded?
no installing new files, no checking for anything, no nothing…. just an immediate pan to the gates of celestia.
you decided to check if it was the right genshin since this was just way too weird, but countering your judgement, every link you found led you to the same game, leading you to believe it not to be a bootleg or an illegal version.
guess i’ll trust it then.
you clicked on the gates which opened smoothly, and your screen turned white. then, the symbols of the seven elements appeared in gray.
and then the game just… opened. no loading time, once again. no getting stuck on the geo symbol, nothing. nada. just a smooth entrance into what you had to assume to be teyvat — but your surroundings didn't really support that claim.
the grass was brown and just looked off, the sky was gray. a darker shade than, say, mond’s walls, but it was like one of those game crashes.
well, except you could still move around.
you moved your current character around (the traveller? since when were they the only one in your team?) and decided to open the map after not figuring out where you could possibly be.
hold on, this is springvale? since when?
eveything looked dead, like it had been rotting for a century. you tried to ignore it though, and teleported to the inside of mondstadt. surely this was just some glitch, right? one that would fix itself if you teleported?
maybe the world loaded incorrectly, maybe the fact that nothing took time to load meant that it couldn't load, maybe this or that, maybe…
maybe this really was how the game looked normally. you hadn't done any quests though, so you wondered if it could be restored.
you took a screenshot of the your surroundings — the stone, worn down and dirty. the houses which looked to be in a horrible state, and… the npcs, all sickly and pale, like they were starving.
you went to reddit (yes, reddit), and posted the screenshot, asking if it was normal.
you closed the game and decided to take a nap, too tired to really deal with this shit any further.
while you slumbered, people replied to your post.
╰┈➤ lol me too anon, me too
╰┈➤ isn't the game closed or wtv? how'd you get this wtf
╰┈➤ they're trolling
╰┈➤ o makes sense oops
╰┈➤ So we’re all still mourning huh
╰┈➤ jokes aside that's a super impressive edit ngl
you remained unaware of the truth, but you'd find out soon enough.
actually, you'd find out now, apparently…
what the fuck?? why is my bed so hard now?
you groaned and forced your eyes open, seeing a dark, nearly black sky.
the only light was a single star, lingering right above you.
“since when was i outside...?"
a voice spoke to you, answering your question.
“you always have been, have you not? but would you like to head inside, my lord?”
... huh? i recognize that voice...
—
p.s. place your bets on who it is, i’m thinking of one specific character but if there's a fan fav i'll make it them instead since i haven't written anything beyond this point (・_・;)
p.s.s. don't expect updates to this series too quickly, i wish i could write as quick as i think of ideas but sadly that's not the case orz
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#sagau#yandere x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yippie#genshin self aware#genshin self aware au
44 notes
·
View notes
Note
God that must be so hard and nerve wracking for Carmilla. Finally knowing what happened to the baby she lost and feeling slightly relieved cause now here was her baby safe and here in her arms again where she belonged damnit but they were all in hell and her baby had already lost an eye and had to fight every day...
But also...how are Clara and Odette handling the news that they found their baby sister and just who she is?
Carmilla takes a few days to determine if she wants to inform Odette and Clara about what she'd gleaned following the most recent Extermination. In the first place, her girls had been working overtime extracting all the angelic steel left behind near the Hotel; it's a veritable treasure trove this time, and they'd been so excited to get started. Second, Carmilla needed time to process recent revelations herself, and figure out how to delicately broach the subject with her eldest two.
How is she supposed to tell her daughters that their sister, whose existence they'd barely even registered back on Earth, had quite literally come back from the dead? Not only that, they'd missed an entire childhood together; growing, playing, bonding, fighting, and loving one another -- all things Clara and Odette had the opportunity to do. How is Carmilla supposed to just go up to them and say, "Surprise! You remember that child I was pregnant with when we all died? Well, she's still around! She's an ex-Exterminator, killed hundreds of our people, and I don't even know if she wants anything to do with us!"
Would Odette even accept her? Clara is usually the more open-minded of the two. That's another question she can't answer. With how many times Vaggie's "sister" Exorcists have tried to kill them over the years, would her other daughters even want to have anything to do with Vaggie? She thinks they would...Clara the most likely of the two...but they are fully grown women with their own thoughts and feelings. She wouldn't blame them if they...well, they'd have every right not to want that kind of relationship with Vaggie, at any rate.
Carmilla is still stewing in these thoughts, having practically worn a path in the middle of her bedroom floor by walking back and forth so many times, when she feels a vibration in her pocket. Pulling out her phone, Vaggie's name flashes prominently on the screen, like a fresh piece of graffiti on the side of a building. She almost drops her phone in surprise, but manages to keep it together. She taps the answer icon in trepidation.
"Ye-yes?"
"Carmilla?" Vaggie's voice on the other end sounds so...tired. Carmilla recalls she's been home for a few days now, but she wouldn't have been able to tell by the sound of her voice alone. Her tone is so...ragged and laced with anxiety; a spitting image of her own, if she's honest.
"Vaggie! Umm, yes! How can I help you?"
There is a definitive pause, one that makes the distance between them seem more metaphysical than real. They are just across the city from each other, but in every other sense, Vaggie is undoubtedly existing in her own plane of reality right now. She seems so much farther away than Carmilla could possibly reach by foot. It must have taken her a lot to call Carmilla. The arms dealer puts her patience to the test, and waits intently for Vaggie to find the words to voice what she needs to say.
"Carmilla..." Vaggie finally starts, a voice much shakier and insecure than she remembers; a far cry from that determined, brave girl that challenged her at her compound all those days ago. "Can I...come over?"
Carmilla's heart jumps into her throat. Her ears start ringing, and she almost needs to sit down on her bed before she collapses.
"Yes!" she says, flinching as she sounds a little too eager for her own ears. There's no helping that now. "Of-of course! Whatever you need, mi querida. My door is always open. When do you want to come by?"
"Ummm," Vaggie hesitates, as if she fears she's asking too much. "Is right now okay? Are you...busy?"
Odette and Clara will be back soon, but that is the furthest thing from Carmilla's mind at the moment. She'll deal with it when the time comes.
"No, that's perfectly fine! Absolutely, I'll be here! I'm not going anywhere today."
Vaggie sounds a little relieved, but also like she hadn't expected her question to be answered so quickly, so freely. Carmilla hopes she doesn't sound too eager...but she is. How can she not be? This is her daughter, for goodness’ sake, her child, wanting to see her.
"O-oh-okay!" Vaggie says, a little more eager this time. "Gi-give me an hour? And I'll...I'll be there."
"Text me once you're close by," Carmilla says, trying to push away any further doubts and hesitation from her mind. Vaggie wants to come over. She needs to be strong for her. She needs to keep it the fuck together. "I'll come out and get you this time."
"Okay," Vaggie responds. "Thanks...thank you, Carmilla."
Vaggie hangs up. Carmilla stiffens. She stands up, putting her large hands over her face, wiping her forehead down to her cheeks from the stress of it all. Vaggie is coming back, coming here, right now. She tries so much not to freak the fuck out.
Now to figure out what to do about Odette and Clara.
#hazbin hotel#carmilla carmine#vaggie#vaggie hazbin hotel#odette hazbin hotel#clara hazbin hotel#fan theories#ask#anon#vaggie carmilla related au
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
seasons- part 1
pairing: enzo vogrincic x f!reader
warnings: none
genre: angst-ish
notes: (1) this is my first story ever, so it might not be that good, comments and opinions are welcomed (2) the story will have three parts, this works more as a intro (3) it was inspired by my favorite wave to earth song seasons
______________________________________________________________
I can’t be your love… Look it’s too trivial for you now
She sits in the restaurant’s terrace eating her meal in silence, her eyes focused on her phone’s screen. She reads the article carefully time and time again and takes a couple of screenshots of the parts she finds interesting. She smiles and takes a sip of her beer, the response to the movie is great, she had suspected it would be good, the director and production behind it had made great films before, how could this one fail?
She opens X and searches his name again. She always feels slightly guilty while doing this, as if she’s stalking someone, but she still goes ahead and does it. People love him, and how could they not? For the eight years that she knows Enzo she knows that he’s one of a kind, someone special. He’s kind, intelligent, talented, and obviously, attractive, of course people would love him. Her friend had worked hard all these years, and while it makes sense that he gets the recognition he deserves, the way that the film-and his popularity-have exploded almost globally shocks her a little bit.
Her heart beats a little faster in an uneasy way. She takes another sip of her drink, trying to wash those feelings away. She’s happy for her friend, she’s proud. But this weird feeling keeps popping out of her heart and flooding her veins. Uneasiness, fear, confusion. She doesn’t know how things will work out. How their friendship will work out. How her feelings will work out.
She focuses on her food, it’s useless to overthink about things that haven’t happened yet, and after all, everything will turn out well for him; and she’s his friend, she will be happy for him, she’ll be by his side cheering him on his next big steps. How could she feel upset even for a bit? When everything is going so well?
Her phone’s screen lights up, it’s a message from him, he’s asking her what are her plans for next Monday, maybe she would like to go for coffee in the afternoon? After checking her calendar she quickly answers him, of course she can go for coffee, she doesn’t tell him that she’ll have to work late into Sunday evening to be able to meet a work deadline. He doesn’t need to know, it’s a trivial thing really, besides she really needs to take a break from work, and hanging out with one of best friends will help her relax.
She schedules their meeting in her calendar after she finishes her meal, and quickly writes a text to him asking him how everything’s going, he replies saying he’s super busy, but that everything’s well, he’s surprised that new appointments are being made, events are being programmed for the next couple of months at least. ‘It’s Netflix, what did you expect?’. He just laughs at her response.
While she walks back to her apartment she reminds herself that she’ll take a break from her phone, she hasn’t done much reading these days. She also reminds herself that she can’t keep going on like this, checking stuff related to him so frequently. It’s not good, she tells herself, ‘I’ve been here before, it’s no use to get hung up on him again’. She looks at her reflection on a shop’s window, ‘You made a choice all those years back-she tells herself-no one forced you, and now, for your own well being, you have to look after yourself and don’t get your feelings tangled’.
As cliche as it sounds she fell in love with her friend and of course she didn’t tell him. She won’t be telling him any time soon anyways. She finds it ridiculous, how could she end up in a situation like this? She often feels guilty, how could she call herself his friend when she has all these feelings inside of her? And that’s why she made a choice, she would be just his friend, never tell him her feelings, don’t take things too far, and don't play silly games around him.
She arrives at her place, takes off her boots and quickly takes a shower. While shampooing her hair she tells herself that it wasn’t a hard choice, it wasn’t hard at all. Years ago, when she told Silvia, her best friend, that she had, sort of, fallen in love with Enzo, and that she wouldn’t not tell him, her friend asked her if she was afraid that “it would ruin their friendship”. Her best friend wanted to argue that it was worth a shot, she had feelings for him, and if he rejected her, she could move on. She laughed, Silvia looked confused at her, she said ‘look, I did this for me, not him’.
Contrary to the cliche “I’m afraid that it would ruin our friendship, that’s why I kept my feelings for myself”, Y/N had decided to not act on her feelings because she felt that there were many things in her life that she needed to work on. At the time she felt like she was an incomplete person, and she honestly couldn’t say that her lover would be ‘her other half’. She had to have her other parts together, she had to be able to assemble all her pieces, by herself. What good would come out if she confessed her feelings to him? She felt that her insecurities would be a burden, her short temper could be hurtful, her clinginess could be a bother. She had more problems than she could count. She could end up dragging him with her instead of finding a solution.
She doesn’t pity herself, and even though it can be hard sometimes she chose to be just his friend. But, she had learned to move on with her life. She had gone on dates, she had had brief relationships with other guys. She couldn’t deny her feelings existed, nestled in her heart, sometimes they were more present, like a wind chime on an open window, tingling softly whenever the breeze hit them. Sometimes it felt like they were hidden, and the only way she could reach them was on sleepless nights when she focused on their memories together.
She had been going through the pages of her book slowly, she was actually enjoying it. Her wet hair making a damp patch on her back, the soft hum of the air con creating a soft relaxing sound, when another notification came on her phone. He had sent her a picture he took that day when he managed to go out for a bit. She jokingly told him that she was shocked that he could be a good photographer, ‘if by any chance you can’t find work as an actor, you could do this for real’ she wrote. He sent her a laughing emoji and asked her if she was busy, if she could talk for a bit.
She laid on her couch and dialed his number before he could beat her to it. It only took him a couple of seconds to answer ‘hi Y/N, how was today?’ She laughed, he sounded tired, he had never done promotions for such a big project, he was exhausted by all the things that were happening. ‘Hope you don’t forget to drink water and eat properly these days’, she told him, she didn’t think it was necessary to answer his question. She preferred to focus the conversation on him, whether she would tell herself that if she ignored her problems she wouldn’t need to deal with them, and that her friend had more important things going on.
They fell into a conversation quickly, he was tired, he felt like he needed to prepare himself better for interviews, with the popularity of the film he got more and more requests for them and he kept doubting if he was doing well. At the same time he found it amusing how things had gone so far. He genuinely hadn’t predicted that people would be so hooked on the film, he felt like he was part of a boyband. Throughout the conversation she keeps making jokes about all of this, she knows he has lots of things in his mind and she’s trying to keep things light.
He sighs, she changes her phone from her left hand to her right one, and sees that they’ve been talking for more than forty minutes. At that moment he tells her ‘Everything is so easy with you, it’s not like I won’t stop thinking about these things, but whenever I talk with you, everything seems more simple, thanks, I know I’m lucky to have you as my friend’
‘Yeah, I know, we’re lucky to have each other’s back… to be friends’
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
one things I've noticed is once you've been mobbed or group bullied before you see signs ahead of time and try to get ahead of the curb just to be let down again
I just started a new job, I started in person suddenly I was seen as "antisocial, loud, unqualified" and every sterotypical attribute to black people including being repeatedly called "prioritized" by people who have offices while i'm in a cubicle
I could tell by today (I told my boss I was getting my ID) they were purposefully trying to be frustrating and gaslit me about it
the girl who usually lets me in was no where to be seen and someone WAVED at me and kept walking, I was eventually let in and told how I was a priority and they weren't when they got their ID.
Along with people coming up to my cubicle to peek at me and leave
Along with that my landlord called me greedy after forcing me to go to the store with her like....theyre wild in this City.
#shit like this happened to me in school and now I cant be fooled by it#it comes from the big boss too thats what makes it worse#i trusted two people#and they spread it around#So one of the bigwigs that needed me to talk to him that called me antisocial I went up to today#I told him to give me the benefit of the doubt he gave every other new person and that i knew i didnt have a direct degree in the field but#ive worked before and can also get that degree in 18 months#he tried to gaslight me and tell me that wasnt what it was about and so i agreed with him and he said#'oh i was in the pet food business before this'#yt ppl love forced interactions and feeling like theyre breaking u#they dont think you deserve to feel strong or be by yourself like they used to own us why would they#i told that man 'he shouldnt assume im always confused and that I am very capable of doing my job#he was flabbergasted and before that was like :3 my door is always open#these people are 40+ and have belts of accomplishments and yet some blk girl being quiet unfurled them#these idiots dont know it makes make case if i wanted to sue even stronger
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s an open secret in fashion. Unsold inventory goes to the incinerator; excess handbags are slashed so they can’t be resold; perfectly usable products are sent to the landfill to avoid discounts and flash sales. The European Union wants to put an end to these unsustainable practices. On Monday, [December 4, 2023], it banned the destruction of unsold textiles and footwear.
“It is time to end the model of ‘take, make, dispose’ that is so harmful to our planet, our health and our economy,” MEP Alessandra Moretti said in a statement. “Banning the destruction of unsold textiles and footwear will contribute to a shift in the way fast fashion manufacturers produce their goods.”
This comes as part of a broader push to tighten sustainable fashion legislation, with new policies around ecodesign, greenwashing and textile waste phasing in over the next few years. The ban on destroying unsold goods will be among the longer lead times: large businesses have two years to comply, and SMEs have been granted up to six years. It’s not yet clear on whether the ban applies to companies headquartered in the EU, or any that operate there, as well as how this ban might impact regions outside of Europe.
For many, this is a welcome decision that indirectly tackles the controversial topics of overproduction and degrowth. Policymakers may not be directly telling brands to produce less, or placing limits on how many units they can make each year, but they are penalising those overproducing, which is a step in the right direction, says Eco-Age sustainability consultant Philippa Grogan. “This has been a dirty secret of the fashion industry for so long. The ban won’t end overproduction on its own, but hopefully it will compel brands to be better organised, more responsible and less greedy.”
Clarifications to come
There are some kinks to iron out, says Scott Lipinski, CEO of Fashion Council Germany and the European Fashion Alliance (EFA). The EFA is calling on the EU to clarify what it means by both “unsold goods” and “destruction”. Unsold goods, to the EFA, mean they are fit for consumption or sale (excluding counterfeits, samples or prototypes)...
The question of what happens to these unsold goods if they are not destroyed is yet to be answered. “Will they be shipped around the world? Will they be reused as deadstock or shredded and downcycled? Will outlet stores have an abundance of stock to sell?” asks Grogan.
Large companies will also have to disclose how many unsold consumer products they discard each year and why, a rule the EU is hoping will curb overproduction and destruction...
Could this shift supply chains?
For Dio Kurazawa, founder of sustainable fashion consultancy The Bear Scouts, this is an opportunity for brands to increase supply chain agility and wean themselves off the wholesale model so many rely on. “This is the time to get behind innovations like pre-order and on-demand manufacturing,” he says. “It’s a chance for brands to play with AI to understand the future of forecasting. Technology can help brands be more intentional with what they make, so they have less unsold goods in the first place.”
Grogan is equally optimistic about what this could mean for sustainable fashion in general. “It’s great to see that this is more ambitious than the EU’s original proposal and that it specifically calls out textiles. It demonstrates a willingness from policymakers to create a more robust system,” she says. “Banning the destruction of unsold goods might make brands rethink their production models and possibly better forecast their collections.”
One of the outstanding questions is over enforcement. Time and again, brands have used the lack of supply chain transparency in fashion as an excuse for bad behaviour. Part of the challenge with the EU’s new ban will be proving that brands are destroying unsold goods, not to mention how they’re doing it and to what extent, says Kurazawa. “Someone obviously knows what is happening and where, but will the EU?”"
-via British Vogue, December 7, 2023
#fashion#slow fashion#style#european union#eu#eu news#eu politics#sustainability#upcycle#reuse#reduce reuse recycle#ecofriendly#fashion brands#fashion trends#waste#sustainable fashion#sustainable living#eco friendly#good news#hope
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
need simon to be retired and living in the middle of nowhere with a car-fixing hobby, and you're pulling into his 'shop' because you were road-tripping across the country and now some funky noises are happening underneath the hood.
you tentatively walk towards the open garage, only to spot him under some run-down vehicle that has more rust than sun-faded paint, deflated tires, and a license plate that's also got rust gnawing at the edges, the numbers on it barely discernable.
you rap your knuckles gently on the weathered car, and the wheels of the creeper he's on squeak in protest under him as he rolls out to look at you, filthy gloves smearing the dust on his brow instead of wiping it away.
"err, hi. uh, i was pointed this way by some lovely folk that work in that diner down the way, and they said that you could take a look at my car."
he rises smoothly, even though his joints pop as he does, dark eyes squinting against the sun. he towers over you with broad shoulders and thick arms. a tough-as-teak country man.
you start when he speaks, deep voice echoing off of dusty walls. "they said tha', did they?" he lifts the hem of his grease-stained wife beater to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead, and your gaze involuntarily wanders to the thick trail of coarse, dark hair under his navel.
"what's wrong with it?"
if you knew that, you wouldn't be here, blatantly ogling him in some decrepit workshop located in a sleepy corner of the countryside. "i don't know. it's making some scary popping noises and figured that it needed to be looked at, asap."
your grimace is involuntary when he extends an oil-streaked gloved hand. you really hope he's not expecting you to-
"keys."
right. you wordlessly hand them over and walk a few steps behind him as he heads toward the front of your car. "did ya get it looked at before your trip?"
you want to snap at him, that obviously you did. you may not be some car wizard, however, you can do the bare minimum for it but he's your only hope for getting the hell out of here, so you press your tongue against the back of your teeth for a moment before answering.
"yes. i did prepare for it. got new tires, an oil change, and anything else it may have needed."
he hums at your answer, a low sound in the back of his throat, and curls his fingers under the hood and begins to feel for the release. your mind is in the gutter as your eyes linger on his sun-kissed skin, watching the tendons on his inked forearm ripple with each movement.
your mind is snapped back to reality when he mutters, "i hope ya don't think i'm doin' this for free."
"wouldn't dream of it. you don't seem the charitable type."
the latch yields under his fingertips, and the hood springs open. "i'd say i'm pretty charitable, considerin' i'm even helpin' ya with this."
your eyebrows furrow, corners of your lips pulling downward. "what, were you closed or something?"
he gives you a small smirk while his hand searches for the prop rod inside the engine bay. "do i look like a business, sweetheart?"
embarrassment burns your cheeks, and your mouth gapes unprettily as you turn around to truly take in the place. past the grease-smeared floors, there's rust blooming on the only workbench in the garage, a single red toolbox resting on the ground. there's a car jack tossed in a corner, a vibrant blue cooler by the door, and a few firearms on pegboard shelves. it looks like a simple garage. a personal one.
"oh my god," you stammer, "i'm so sorry, i just- the townsfolk, they led me to believe that you're a mechanic." how bloody mortifying.
he ducks his head under the hood, bending at the waist to lean over the engine, eyes swiftly scanning the machinery. "it's a hobby. i fix my own vehicles... and now yours, i reckon."
eventually, he turns the car on and listens to the engine roar to life before it begins to pop, standing over the open hood with thinned lips and furrowed brows.
he tells you that he can fix it, it'll just take a bit for the part to get here, obviously, so he recommends staying at a rented cabin in town for a few days— maybe even a week— and he'll give you a ride over.
he gets you there in no time, unsurprising because he drove the motorcycle far too fast— illegal, really. he helps you off the bike, your clammy hand in his much bigger, roughened one.
you rip off his helmet, pushing it into his barrel chest. "please never drive me around that fast again." he gives you a couple of pats to the shoulder, chuckling under his breath.
"unless you're plannin' on walkin' to get your car back, i can't promise tha'."
grrrreat.
(the issue was the serpentine belt, it was slightly frayed but the man kept you around for 2.5 weeks under the excuse of something taking too long, or the car being under worse condition. maybe he charges you a kidney for fixing it, and since you can't obviously pay that ridiculous amt of money, he tells you to go on a date with him. gross. or maybe he's a sane man and he just sends you on your way in 2 days time. idk. installs a gps in your car? keepin' tabs on ya cuz he plans on passing by wherever you live by complete coincidence.)
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Video (18+)
Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader
Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings
Word count: just under 3k!
Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!
Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.
Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣
Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!
It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.
Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.
There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.
It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.
Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.
See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.
The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.
Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.
Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.
He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.
Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.
It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.
He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.
"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.
He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.
When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?
He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.
"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.
Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.
The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.
One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.
All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.
"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.
Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.
"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.
"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.
The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.
He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.
With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.
Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.
Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?
Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.
After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).
He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.
The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.
The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.
While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.
"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.
"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"
Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.
"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.
Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.
He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.
He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.
❣️:
Can I see what you've been working on? :)
I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!
Jinnie:
Well... since you asked so nicely😉
[video sent]
Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.
It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?
'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.
He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.
Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.
Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.
Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...
You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.
You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.
You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?
It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.
❣️:
Uhm...😕
Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.
He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...
Oh God.
Did he send the wrong video?
Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.
He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.
Jinnie:
Oh god
I'm so sorry!!
Please don't watch that!
❣️:
Don't worry!!!
I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖
I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!!
Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.
...
Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.
Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.
You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.
But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.
Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.
On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.
He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"
You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.
You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.
You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.
Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.
"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?
It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.
You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?
You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.
You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?
It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.
© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works
#cupid♡writing#sub!idol#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#skz x reader#skz smut#hwang hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin smut#dividers by cafekitsune
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
More on pre-electricity lighting.
Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->
*****
After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".
For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".
Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.
There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.
Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.
*****
Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.
Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.
I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.
With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.
*****
All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.
Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.
They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.
Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...
...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...
This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.
Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:
What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.
There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:
This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.
A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.
*****
There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:
Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:
And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.
Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.
What could possibly go wrong? :-P
*****
Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.
Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.
There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.
Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.
This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.
In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.
*****
One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.
They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.
The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.
The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.
One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.
I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.
And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->
*****
Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)
#period lighting#tinderbox#too light too dark#social history#writer notes#research#period tech#sword vs lantern#c. j. cherryh
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
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!
#enhypen x reader#sunghoon x reader#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#enhypen hard hours#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon fluff#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfiction#sunghoon fanfiction#enhypen imagines#sunghoon imagines
7K notes
·
View notes
Note
Can we have a part two of baby fever?
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: pregnant with charles' baby, in a surprise turn of events, he's been able to keep his hands off of you. but just how long does that restraint last when he's faced with a problem: the tenderness of pregnancy? or in which, charles is struck yet again with the case of baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want dem babies), breeding kink (although atp idk), lactation kink, mutual orgasms, pussy eating, again pussy rubbing(?), cumming inside, reader is sensitive as shit again, poor interpretation of pregnancy terminology, fluff at the start and towards the end, minimal use of french endearments, a criminal minds reference from yours truly <3
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: everyone wanted another one! sooooo here it is! i wasn't sure whether to do this during or after pregnancy but i ended up choosing the former. hope you like it ♡︎ see you lot next year :)
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆
You knew the exact day, hour, minute, and second the two lines on that test appeared and confirmed the wish you and Charles had been waiting for. But what got you there... now that was a mystery. It was like finding that one specific good needle in a stack of needles.
Ever since your boyfriend had mentioned children to you, you and Charles have spent more time acting like animals in heat. It was lewd, obscene, sometimes immoral given the places it happened, but God was it hot.
You were currently coming towards the end of your second trimester. Your baby bump wasn't visible to the naked eye when you wore clothes but no one would also deny that you were pregnant. Apparently, your baby girl (yes a girl, the already doting Charles couldn't be more thrilled) was the size of a banana.
Besides feeling sick, having odd cravings, and being unusually hormonal, you were heavily preparing for your due date. Honestly, you didn't need to prepare that much. Charles had been working on it himself with both of your families so you didn't feel stress. And as sweet as it was, you couldn't help it. You were having a baby for Christ's sake. This wasn't a paper you thought you could wing the night before.
Your eyes strained at the pile of pregnancy books Mama Leclerc had brought you, all new and updated with the times... her words not yours.
You liked to read. It was your favourite pastime. But this... this wasn't particularly enjoyable. Scary, if anything. How on earth did people get anything done with this much information? You have to have enough iron to prevent defects to the baby but not too much otherwise you could still harm the baby?
Huh?
You blinked and shook your head. Your eyes reverted to the also busy (reading) bee sat on the couch. You smiled softly at the sight of Charles. It was winter. The sun was still making it's visits but it was cold enough to put on the heater in the early evening. Charles wrapped up in that one cream knit sweater you brought him with his glasses and book five on parenting tips made you all warm on the inside.
You quietly walked over to him, pulling the book gently from his hands. "What are you thinking of, amour?" You queried, slowly removing his glasses from his face and resting them with the book on the coffee table.
Charles smiled at your presence, opening his arms so you could sit on his lap. His one hand automatically came to your stomach, rubbing your bump like he had been ever since he saw those two lines. The other held your waist, knowing very well your back had been getting sore without doing anything but walking.
He hummed in thought. "I was thinking about when exactly I got you pregnant. Was it the morning in the hotel room in the end of year party in Abu Dhabi? Or in the bathroom on the ride from Qatar to Texas? Italy, maybe? The wine was really good that night."
You gasped at his words, smacking him lightly on his arm. "You animal... and here I was thinking you were being all sweet, reading about parenting."
Charles grinned, blues eyes twinkling at you. "Hey, I have to tell our princess one day where she came from. And it won't be a stork. Maybe I'll say in my driving room in Japan."
Your mouth dropped in shock at the nonchalant shrug you received from Charles. You pushed yourself out of his arms. "Charles!" You practically screeched in horror, making a wave of laughter fall from his lips.
His arms quickly reached towards you, pulling you closer as your warmth was just beginning to disappear. "I'm kidding... mostly," Charles mumbled, smiling at your small glare.
You rolled your eyes, looking at Charles with sarcastic gaze before you narrowed it. "Also 'princess?' What about me?" You pouted.
Charles chuckled softly, holding you tighter. "You're still my princess, amour. But when our little girl comes, you'll be my queen."
You blinked, trying to suppress the cringe and embarrassment. "I'm going to go pretend to throw up because I'm pregnant and not because of you. But I'll find it endearing some other day... in the far, far future.
Charles sighed, shaking his head. "You're a menace."
You gaped at him. "I'm a menace. That's rich coming from you. Weren't you the one who was just thinking about which place we screwed each other to have this child?"
Charles winced, putting his forehead on your shoulder. "Well, when you say it like that..." He grimaced. Sucking in a sharp breath, he decided to change subjects. "How does brunch sound?"
Your ears perked up and your eyes squinted with a sudden happiness. "I'm cooking," Charles told you. You dropped your smile. "It sounds awful..."
━━━━━━━━━━━
After teasing Charles for his cooking, you did end up having lunch. Charles, who was initially terrible at making any morsel of food, had found his talent in making pregnancy food.
Even though Charles lacked knowledge about food, ever since you found out you were pregnant, he had made sure every single thing you ate was edible for you and your little girl.
It was amusing to be honest.
You had joined Lorenzo and the others for dinner at a restaurant and the moment a wine bottle landed on the table, Charles pushed the bottle away from you as far as he could, fearing even the mere particles of wine you could breathe in would affect you.
As entertaining as it was, it was sweet. You knew that Charles naturally had a fear of being a bad father. His own father was the kindest soul he had ever met, his role model. Living up to that was going to be difficult. Furthermore, he still wanted to maintain a high standard while racing. Similar to that of Sebastian. But even Seb had ended up taking some time off to spend with his kids.
"What's with the face?" Charles queried, eyeing from the kitchen as he finished drying the last plate.
You blinked out of your trance. A tired sigh fell from your lips. "My boobs."
The plate in Charles' hands almost fell. Charles' head snapped towards you. "I... your... what?" He spluttered, putting down the plate gently before walking over to you.
You smiled softly at his confusion. You were about to speak up but Charles suddenly jutted out his hands. "No, wait! Don't tell me. I've got this. I read now."
The comment elicited a small laugh from your chest. Nodding, you waited patiently as he pondered around you.
"Okay... boobs... uh, this is great. I actually can't stop picturing your boobs now." Charles gave you a pointed look. You raised your hands in your defence, signalling him that this wasn't your problem. Your boyfriend fell into thought again, trying to think back to all the books he had been reading. Was it chapter three or six? It wasn't exactly breastfeeding...
"Ah!" Charles clapped his hand, dragging a seat from the table to sit in front of you. "Lactation! Tender breasts. While the tenderness tends to be less during the second trimester... uh, what was it? The... the lactation, yes, the lactation may cause more discomfort instead."
You watched Charles delve into an explanation about the biology behind it as if he was Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds. Another side of him you were discovering through this pregnancy. Charles didn't retain much information unless it was about you or racing, but if it was related to pregnancy, little did you know, he would eventually become a wikipedia.
You blinked slowly. "So are you going to help?" You asked, cutting him off abruptly.
Charles paused at your words. He raised his brows. "Help you?" He enunciated each word clearly.
You nodded, leaning back into your chair. "I thought you were going clean me up," You whispered in a way that had Charles' cock jumping again. "Something about massaging my breasts."
Charles' mouth felt dry. "I did say that..." He trailed off before letting out a groan. "Ah, ma chérie, why would you say that? I–fuck. You know how I feel about this."
You leaned over, putting a hand over his knee. "Charles, the doctor said it's fine."
Charles felt strongly about your breasts during your pregnancy. They were bigger, heavier and fuller. It turned him on more than he imagined it to. But as much as he was waiting for you to lactate, Charles also felt strongly about not hurting you. 'Cleaning' you up would only make him want to have sex and he was terrified about hurting you or the baby.
"I know..." Charles murmured, sucking in a sharp breath. Your doctor who remained professional to the end when you asked whether you could have sex (much to Charles' embarrassment and joy) cleared you for it. Actually, they encouraged it, saying it was good and healthy for the both of you.
Yet, Charles couldn't help be worried. So much to the point where you hadn't had sex for well over fifteen weeks.
"I mean if you seriously don't want to," You told him, retracting your hand. "It's okay."
Charles quickly took your hand back with his own. "No, I want to. Seriously, you have no idea how much I want to," He said with his voice thick, sending a familiar tingle between your thighs. "I just..." He sighed, "You'd tell me if I hurt you, right?"
Your eyes softened. Squeezing his hand gently, you used the other to caress his face. You gave a firm nod. "In a heartbeat," You promised.
Charles smiled lightly. With your hand in his, he stood up. "Let's go to the bedroom, hmm?"
━━━━━━━━━━━
After taking off your underwear, Charles let out a low breath as he peeled off your shirt to see your bare breasts in front of him. He'd seen them when you got ready in the morning, it drove him crazy, but his fear always got to him first.
Looking at them like this, so close to him, it reminded him of the first time you had sex. Except, your breasts weren't showing such obvious signs of pregnancy: so full, almost two cup sizes bigger.
Charles pressed his lips together tightly, eyes glued to your breasts before flickering down to your stomach. He could see the bump a lot more clearly now that it was bare. The sight of it made him happy in far too many ways. It was like he was a teenager all over again. He wasn't sure what to do first.
Slowly, you encouraged him, silently bringing his hand over to your breasts.
A shaky breath fell from his mouth as a sudden surge of warmth came in contact with his hand. He moved his eyes to you, testing the waters by moving his thumb over your nipple. By your hitched breath and your suddenly dazed eyes, Charles could tell you were sensitive and completely fine. But he needed your words.
Bringing his other hand to your face, his thumb trailed of your lips. "Are you okay?" He softly asked, still grazing over your nipple.
"Charles," You let out a strained sigh, "If you don't move your fucking hand or do something, I will move it for you."
Yup, you were okay.
Charles chuckled quietly. His teeth sunk into his lips upon feeling a slight wetness at the pad of his thumb. He gulped at the white milk falling out of your nipple.
You eagerly watched Charles' head duck closer towards your breasts, mouth opening to wrap his lips around your milk covered nipple. A long whine fell from your mouth, head digging into your mattress. Your hand travelled up his neck and into his hair, eliciting a grunt from Charles as you pushed yourself further into his touch.
The taste on Charles' tongue was unlike anything he had ever tasted (well that he remembered of). It was sweet and creamy, coating his mouth ever so smoothly. It was a strange yet satisfying thought to think that while your body had made the milk, a part of him had participated in it. Technically, he had also made it. "Fuck," He hissed against your breast, realising your milk was far too addictive.
You let out another moan, tightening your grip on Charles' hair, feeling the grasp of his other hand on your other breast, twisting your pebbled nipple as he sucked on the other.
Your pussy was fully drenched, sensitive to any touch you received from Charles. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to relieve the creeping arousal that was intoxicating you.
Charles grunted, short breaths falling from his lips as he parted from your nipples. You whimpered at the sight of him licking the white liquid from his lips. The look in his blue eyes was surreal; crazed like a monster that wouldn't be satiated until he had entirely devoured you.
He brought his lips to yours, bringing you into a heated sloppy kiss. Your mouth moved against his, the taste of your own milk entering your tastebuds while your skin burned at his touch. Charles' breaths were heavy, chest rising up and down rapidly. "You taste that, princess?" He queried, lips lazily falling down your jaw. "You taste so fucking good," He rasped.
"Charles," You moaned out, hips jerking up at every tug on your nipple against a race of desperation.
"I know, baby, I know," Charles murmured with slight disbelief. He couldn't wrap his head around how sensitive you were. You were squirming and aching for his touch just by the touch of your nipples. His cock throbbed as his mind wandered just how you'd react to his cock or his tongue against your drenched folds.
Reluctantly, Charles moved his mouth away from your breasts, still keeping his hands on them, groping and teasing you with no mercy. Arriving to your pussy, he bit down on his swollen lips, uttering out a string of curses under his breath. He knew you were wet but not this wet. You had made a mess... the bed sheets were sported damp spots while your inner thighs were glazed with your arousal, ready to be eaten.
An apology quickly flew from his lips, making you furrow your brows. "For leaving you untouched," He murmured, hot breath dancing across your thighs yet cool to your burning folds. "Amour, I'm going to make up for it. Every fucking day," He promised.
Your stomach churned at his words while you drew in a deep breath. Christ. "I'm holding you to that promise, Cha," You whispered lightly, growing antsy with every passing second.
Charles grinned shamelessly against your thigh. "I should start now then, hmm?" He baited you by leaving soft kisses against your ample flesh, nose just skimming your pussy. He couldn't help but smile at the sudden gasp fallen from your reddened lips and jerk of your hips. You were clenching around nothing.
Your head dug into the mattress of your bed as Charles placed his mouth against your pussy, flattening his tongue and taking a long stripe of your warm folds. He sucked on every part of your pussy, darting his tongue on every crevice so naturally as if he had committed it to memory.
Your mewls that had turned into pure blubbers. You were sure you weren't making any sense. All that you knew was that Charles was eating you like he was tasting you for the first time, barely coming out for a breath while his nose rubbed against your clit, lapping at you like some sort of animal and it felt fucking phenomenal.
Charles' cock was uncomfortably and impossibly tight against his pants. He was struggling between continuing to eat you out because you tasted so good and prepping you for his cock. He was desperate to feel your walls again.
Your blubbers were now high pitched gasps upon feeling Charles' tongue drag to your clit, nibbling and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves as he propped one finger into your walls. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "Fuck, Charles," You moaned, hips jerking up to get even more stimulation while your eyes were clamped shut.
Charles grunted against your pussy, feeling your toes curl while he thrusted his finger out of you. God, you were even tight around his single finger. He couldn't help but wonder how you were going to give birth. His eyes darted up to your face, watching your back arch, exposing your leaking breasts to more air while your breath quivered. He could tell you were close.
Charles promised he'd be gentle. But he never promised he'd be kind.
Your eyes snapped open at the sudden loss of Charles' touch and the quickly distancing euphoria. You whined in annoyance. Even now, Charles was a menace.
"I know, princess. I'm sorry. Fuck, I just need to be in you, hmm?" Charles mumbled in a hurry, moving his body up and scrambling to remove his boxers. If he kept lapping at you like the animal he was, he was sure he was going to cum just like that.
If this was any other circumstance, you were sure you would be cursing at Charles in French. But taking a look at his throbbing cock, standing strong and hard in all it's glory... it took the words right of your mouth and had sent all the feelings straight to your pussy. In fact, you were even patient in the mere seconds it took Charles to adjust himself over you, revelling in his dazed hooded eyes, the blown pupils and his sweat-glittered skin.
Charles place the finger he had put inside you on your lips, gesturing for you to suck your arousal off. Without any objection, you parted your swollen lips and took a slow and long stripe of his finger, tasting yourself on your tongue. A guttural groan came from his mouth. Any second longer...
You sucked in a sharp breath when Charles let his bubbling saliva slowly fall from his mouth and onto the aching tip of his cock, rubbing the natural lube up and down his shaft. Shifting his hips a bit, the both of you let out a low blow upon the feeling of his flushed cock on your puffy folds.
Charles hovered over your body, placing his swollen lips on your leaking breast, savouring the sweet taste of your milk while letting his cock rub against your engorged pussy. He could hear your soft whimpers, loud enough for the entire room to reverberate off its walls. A rippling tremble surged through his body as he rocked his cock against your folds, feeling your wetness soak mix with his saliva and coat him entirely.
"Charles," You mewled, "Keep teasing and you won't feel this pussy again I promise."
The threat you made was empty and weak. The both of you knew it. Yet, the mere possibility or even the thought made Charles quickly but carefully push his cock into your pussy. He grunted at the feeling of your walls around his cock slowly welcoming you. Shit... You were tighter around his cock than his finger, already clenching around him.
"Merde," Charles swore. "You feel so good, princess."
Your hands fell around his neck, loosely holding him to you as his cock stretch you out. You could tell he wasn't as deep as he usually was with the baby taking up more space but when combined with your pregnant sensitivity, it left you more flustered and blazing than ever.
"Are you okay?" Charles managed to grit out.
You gave him a rushed nod. "Move... please," You begged, struggling to keep your eyes open.
Charles' hips began to move faster at your command, rutting at such as speed that pushed his aching cock against your walls, lost in the pleasure your brought by gripping him like a vice. His eyes fell to your mouth. Your moans and whines looked as though they were going to burst out of you. Bringing his puffy lips to yours, he swallowed all your angelic and sinful sounds into his body like he was consuming your very essence.
His hand travelled to your hips before trailing to your bump. The things this baby had done to him before even confirming those two lines was beyond Charles. Pulling away from your lips, he almost faltered when he saw your face.
God, you were just so... beautiful. Your flushed face, lust-ridden eyes, sweat-ridden hair moving in all sorts of directions, skin even stained with his marks of love he had made unknowingly... all with that pregnancy glow... beautiful.
"I love you, ma chérie," He whispered out. "You're going to be the most wonderful and gorgeous mother in the entire universe. Our baby is going to be the luckiest child."
Tears pricked at your eyes as the pleasure still coursed through you. The coil in your stomach was coming to a breaking point while broken sobs came out of your mouth. Fuck, you couldn't even tell what you wanted anymore. Your hand reached out to Charles' face, feeling the small hairs on his face as you caressed him. "And you're the only person I would ever want with me... the only person who could be the father of my... our children."
Charles let out a faint high pitched moan. His hand moved to your abandoned clit, starting his abuse on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a silent gasp while he chased both of your climaxes, his twitching cock snapping into you. Everything around you began to blur while your orgasm hit you in big waves as his hips stuttered against you, spilling ropes and ropes of his warm, white cum into your walls.
Your body convulsed as Charles continued to rub your clit, taking advantage of your sensitive state almost selfishly just so he could see you completely space it out in the ecstasy of it all. You let out a soft cry, pussy clenching around him to take every last drop of his cum you could get as the last few waves of his orgasm shot through him.
Charles sighed, wincing softly while taking his cock out of you, making sure to fall down next to you instead of over you like he usually did. His sweaty arm brought you in closer to him, baby bump grazing his cock. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead he smiled down at your tired state. "I should clean you up more often, hmm, princess?"
You managed to roll your eyes, hitting him weakly in his arm. "You are awful."
Charles grinned, popping his dimples out at you. He nodded casually. "Yeah... but you love me," He teased.
You suppressed another eye roll and simply smiled, slowly succumbing to the heavy weight on your eyes. A yawn fell from your lips. "I do. I love you... a lot."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 smut#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc#mickyschumacher
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Astarion sees you're almost falling asleep and will drag you to bed now!
I would need this on like a daily basis. And I guess so do many of you - so let the vampire drag you to bed and GO! GET! SOME! SLEEP!
It was so late it could have been called early. Outside you could already hear the birds chirping, cheerfully greeting a new day. Which meant that it was more than high time to crawl into bed. And doubly so because you lived with a vampire who fared even worse with sunlight than you.
But you were still crouched over your desk and the papers there.
Your eyes were tired. You barely saw what you were working on anymore. And you knew you could get this done when you were fully rested and it would only take a matter of minutes. But you were so desperate to finish this.
Unfortunately, you had a tendency to be very determined (someone else usually called it stubborn but you always pretended you had gone deaf all of a sudden when that happened). But this tendency had brought you this far and probably saved your life more than once. And you wouldn't be bested by this piece of work!
But your head was slowly falling, your eyelids growing as heavy as lead.
And you only jumped back up when you heard that certain someone enter the room, being purposefully noisy to make you aware of it. You were grateful for that because if the vampire had snuck up on you, like he was fully capable of, it might have not ended well with you being this exhausted.
“Slacking off on the job, are we?” you heard his familiar teasing voice as he came closer. You felt his presence as he leaned on the table around you - basically caging you with his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. His lips were awfully close to your ear and the hairs on your neck stood on end as you didn't dare rip your eyes from your work.
“Don't you think this can wait, love?” he whispered now directly into your ear causing a hot and cold shiver to run down your spine.
But with this he had pushed the wrong button. Almost involuntarily you felt one of your eyebrows rise up and your lips forming a pout: “No, Astarion, I don't think it can wait.”
You turned your head around to face him and saw him smirk, making you even more annoyed at him. He leaned in closer, causing his chest to brush against your head now, his hands moved to cover yours.
“Do you really think a stack of papers can't wait more than your caring lover craving your calming touch?” he murmured with a pout that mirrored yours while his deft fingers freed your writing quill out of your angrily clenching fingers. You couldn't resist him long. His hands were used to open up more difficult things than your desperate grip on your writing utensils. Also his absolutely instrumentalized big red eyes he looked at you with were absolutely working their usual enchanting magic on you.
Not enough though for you to not make a snide remark about what was happening.
“Well, for starters the stack of papers doesn't talk back.”
“You think I'm funny, my love.”
“It also isn't as full of itself.”
A mockingly offended gasp while Astarion’s hands moved the papers out of your reach.
“My heart, you hurt me.”
“Ah see, it also doesn't guilt trip me.”
The vampire's hands wandered up over your arms to your shoulders. “I can't do right by you tonight, can I?”
“You could just let me keep working on my thing.”
A dramatic sigh and Astarion let his head fall forward and onto your shoulder. Then he let go of you and took a step back.
“Do you really want to keep working, dear?” he sounded sincere now and you suddenly felt true guilt as you looked at him. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes still awfully wide and shining.
But the urge to not keep business unfinished still had you in its claws.
After a few heartbeats you opened your lips to answer, but-
“Too bad, you're coming with me now, my love.” Astarion exclaimed and with rogue quickness grabbed your chair by the armrests to drag it away from the desk and turn it around to him. “You need your beauty sleep, I can't be seen walking around with a walking corpse!”
You squealed when you felt your body get yanked around so quickly while your tired brain was almost incapable of catching up. Thus you were almost confused when you had ended up on Astarion’s shoulder a moment later.
There was no energy left in your body to resist this infuriating man any longer so you just played the part of dead weight draped over his shoulder - since he had already coined you as such - and couldn't stop yourself from giggling.
“See, darling, I told you: you think I’m funny.”
“It's just sleep deprivation talking.”
“Ah, so you agree with that too.”
You resisted to answer him with something he would only twist around again to fit his agenda. Instead you just slapped his butt you had quite the delectable view of at the moment.
Astarion hissed and just slapped your behind in return. You only giggled more.
“I should have left you at your godsdamned desk, let you fall asleep right there to drool on the papers,” he murmured under his breath and ended it with something about how ungrateful you were while he threw open the bedroom door; your favourite drama queen.
Then he made quick work to get you off his shoulders with an exaggerated groan which you were sure wasn't fully acted.
As soon as your body hit your soft bed the last of your energy decided to evaporate into the aether. You were almost falling over if not for the vampire's quick reflexes catching your wrists.
With quick fingers and more snarky remarks you had no power to reply to anymore he undressed you to your underwear.
And with more overly dramatic groaning and a roll of his eyes since you provided absolutely no help did he turn you to lay down. He carefully placed your head on the pillows which you thanked him for with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes closed on your own. The blanket was thrown over you and more rustling told you that Astarion was quickly undressing as well.
When the mattress shifted under the vampire's weight as he got into bed next to you you barely even noticed it anymore.
With final efforts Astarion dragged you onto his chest. Your arms slung around him and your legs tangled with his automatically - you had done so hundreds if not thousands of times already.
“All this work just to get you where you belong,” Astarion whispered to you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he began rubbing lazy circles on your back. You only hummed contentedly as you felt your body relax fully into him and his touch.
Your last half-coherent thought as you drifted off to sleep was that, indeed, you had to agree with him on this one: you were right where you were supposed to be.
Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06
#astarion#baldur's gate 3#astarion ancunin#fanfiction#astarion x tav#bg3 spoilers#baldur's gate iii#baldurs gate#astarion x mc#astarion x oc#astarion x you#astarion x reader#bg3
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Love at first sight with Luffy
Love at First Sight (Luffy x Reader)
A/N : I don't know if this was exactly what you wanted but I hope you'll like it anyway ! Sorry if there's a few mistakes, English is not my first language and I was kinda tired writing this but it was really great to write ! Let me know if you'd like a part 2 !
As you were busy taking orders in the little restaurant you worked in, you heard the door open and turned your head when you heard a bunch of people talking loudly. There were five people now standing at the entrance of the restaurant and you thought that they made quite an interesting group.
As you looked at them, your gaze was immediatly drawn to a young man, a boy that stood among them, wearing a strawhat that covered brown curls. He had a huge grin on his face and was scanning the place, probably looking for a free table.
You stared at him for a few minutes, completly forgetting that you actually had work to do and that part of your job included welcoming new customers.
You hadn't met many people in your life, since you never had the opportunity to leave the small island where you lived, but this young man was probably the cutest you had ever layed eyes upon. There was just something about him that made you impossible to look away.
The brown haired finally turned his head in your direction and you were met by beautiful brown eyes, sparkling with joy and something else you couldn't quite put a name on. The boy had lost his smile and was now looking at you with such wide eyes that you started to feel weird. Your hand tightened on your notebook as your felt your cheeks starting to flush.
A green haired man nudged the straw hat boy who immediately broke eye contact. Your looked away and took a deep breath as if you breath had been taken away.
You opened your notebook, deciding that it was time to go back to work and went to the counter to pass the new orders to your colleagues. You still felt a little weird because of what had just happened but you decided to ignore it and to look around for more orders to take.
You noticed that the only new customers in the restaurant were the group with the strawhat boy.
Your heart started to race when you saw him sitting at the table a few meters away from you, talking cheerfully to his mates. Were you actually going to approach him ? Yes, because it was your job. Why were you so nervous about this anyway ?
You took a deep breath as you made your way to the table and once again your eyes met with the boy, making you instantly blush.
"Hello, what-what can I get for you ?" you asked, looking at him and trying not to show that you were actually very flustered.
The more you looked at him and the more familiar he felt to you. It was a weird feeling but it was actually very nice.
The boy had opened wide eyes and was staring at you without saying anything.
"I didn't know he could stop talking." the green haired man said sarcastically.
"Luffy ? The waitress is talking to you." said a girl with orange hair.
Luffy. So that was his name. You didn't know why but hearing his name felt like music to your ears and you couldn't help but smile a little.
Your cheeks flushed even more as you kept looking at the boy in front of you, who seemed to be totally lost in his thoughts.
He was really beautiful.
Luffy blinked and got back to reality, but he still looked at you like no one had ever looked at you before. His gaze felt warm and gentle, but also very intense.
"Were going to take a bit of everything." he said with that same smile he had earlier, but this time it was clearly addressed to you.
A warmth started spreading through your whole body and you couldn't help but smile back at him, also a little surprised by his request.
His smile felt warm in your heart and somewhat familiar. He really did have a beautiful smile.
Your eyes simply couldn't look away as your thoughts started to race in your head. You had never felt anything like this before.
What was happening to you ?
"Someone's hungry." you replied after a few seconds, both amused and surprised to see that he had ordered the whole menu.
The boy smiled.
"I'm the future king of the pirates so I need to eat enough food !" he said with that same smile plastered on his face.
Future king of the pirates ? That was really ambitious but you thought it was actually endearing. He had dreams and goals and you thought that it added to his charm. And just by looking at him, you just had the feeling that this boy was capable of doing anything.
"I'll get you plenty of food, don't worry mister future king of the pirates." you said smiling.
His eyes widened at the nickname and you could swear that you saw his cheeks turned a little pink.
Wasn't he adorable ?
You decided to look away and took the orders of his friends, before walking away.
You stopped and leaned against the counter of the bar, trying to regain your composure. You heart was beating like crazy and you just couldn't stop your racing thoughts. Your mind was still thinking about Luffy, that beautiful stranger you had just met and exchanged a few words with.
You felt like you were going crazy but most of all, you felt like you were falling in love.
#luffy x reader#monkey d luffy x reader#opla x reader#one piece live action#one piece x reader#opla#iñaki godoy#opla luffy#opla luffy x reader#one piece netflix#one piece#fluff#opla fluff#luffy fluff
3K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
proxima-writes
old habits die screaming
mercurialmemoirs
Breakfast at the heartbreak hotel again Sirius?
narisoto
Mortus
unforgettableunbreakable
Envision
