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teapartyprincess4two · 2 months

Note

Can i ask for a johnnie guilbert x reader where the reader is a friend of tara who is a very private person, so she gets know in the channel as "baby" and people start to notice that johnnie gets shy and is always looking somewhere off camera (to her)

A LOTTTT of pinning by johnnie (like so much it hurts)

And maybe at the end he confesses she kisses him and a lil sum-sum 😏

Thank uuuuu 😘

Babygirl- J. Guilbert

pairing: shy!reader x Johnnie

classification: fluff

warning: use of y/n, slight cursing, slow build up, Jake and Tara are dating in this, suggestive content but NO smut, very long

inspiration: request^^, Deaf, Mute, and Blind Baking, Becoming Tara Yummy for a Day

summary: You didn’t choose a life in the limelight, you were just famous by association, and now you’ve earned yourself the nickname “babygirl” by the entire internet.

—

Most people wish they had the fame you had, they spend their entire life reaching for an unattainable dream that fell in your lap by coincidence. They wish for the fancy cars, the expensive clothes, and especially to be so famous they’re stopped by fans on the street for a picture.

Tara, your best friend, was one of those people. She spent her childhood and teenage years fangirling over pop stars and YouTubers, hoping that one day people would be fangirling over her too. She worked hard to earn the platform she has today, bringing you along with her to the top. But you never asked for any of this.

At first her newfound fame didn’t affect you, you were just a recurring background character in her videos and would sometimes, but very rarely, have a main role in them. Although you tried remaining in the background, the internet is quick to get attached to shy, background characters and before you knew it the fans were begging for more content with you.

So now you and Tara are a well known YouTube duo and you’re featured in almost every one of her videos, most of the time opting to participate from behind the camera. You especially remain behind the scenes when Jake and Johnnie are involved, specifically because you’re never able to hide your crush on Johnnie and would probably die from embarrassment if the fans caught on.

Like today for example, Jake and Johnnie are over at your house filming. They’re filming a video they’ve filmed many times before, they’re turning Tara emo. The three of them are piled onto the couch, discussing topic after topic as Johnnie packs on black eyeshadow on Tara’s eyes.

“Ow, Johnnie. You’re hurting me!” she squeals as Johnnie accidentally pokes her in the eye with the bristles of the brush. You can’t help but giggle from behind the camera, watching as Johnnie becomes flustered. “Sorry! I only ever do my own makeup, okay?” he apologizes, not becoming any more gentle with his motions. Johnnie glances at you quickly, a smile forming on his face because of your laughter.

“Why are you laughing, Y/n? You’re next,” Jake chimes in, following his statement with a boisterous laugh. Your face flushes slightly as you reply with a laugh, “no I’d prefer not to be tortured.” Johnnie laughs at this, sending you a fake pout, “you hate my look that much?”

Your face becomes even more red, if that was even possible. You didn’t mean the comment like that. Tara, whose face is being attacked with makeup, chimes in, “No, Y/n is too babygirl for this.”

“Oh God, you’re making me sound so high maintenance,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at Tara’s comment. “It’s true though!” she exclaims, turning to face you just as Johnnie begins applying eyeliner, causing a black streak to run from the corner of her eye to her hairline.

“Guys, Y/n is probably the most high maintenance out of the four of us. She gets a manicure exactly every two weeks, she gets her hair redyed like once a month, her room is NEVER dirty. She almost never ever has dirty laundry, AND she irons her clothes. Who irons their clothes?” Tara exclaims, flailing her arms in the air dramatically.

“So yes, she’s babygirl,” Tara’s talking to the camera now, completely oblivious to her appearance. You scrunch your name at the nickname, the internet tended to latch onto things like that, “First of all, you look ridiculous right now. And secondly, don’t call me that. I don’t need to be known as ‘babygirl’ for the rest of my life,” you reply, laughing as Johnnie tries to fix his mistake but fails.

Jake, who’s sitting on the couch next to Johnnie, straightens up and leans forward to look at Tara. He immediately laughs at the sight, the black eyeliner smudged all over her face. “You’re just mad that it has a nice ring to it,” Tara retorts, choosing to ignore the mess Johnnie made. You scoff, glad that the camera isn’t on you to catch how your eyes train on Johnnie.

“Okay, but doesn’t it sound cute?” Tara proposes the question to the boys, waiting expectantly for them to answer. Jake was always quick to agree with her, it was a trait she trained him to have over the years of their relationship, “yeah, it’s pretty cute.” Tara nods her head in triumph, turning to Johnnie for his response.

Johnnie doesn’t know what to say, he agrees that the nickname is cute, but he’s afraid he’ll say too much and expose his crush for you. “Johnnie?” Tara says, widening her eyes as she awaits his response.

“What was the nickname again?” Johnnie asks, trying to act casual. But if the cameras zoomed in they’d easily catch how his hands tremble as he fixes Tara’s eyeliner. “Babygirl?” he reiterates, attempting to sound confused and oblivious. Tara nods her head, causing Johnnie to mess up once again, but he’s too busy trying to keep his composure to care.

Coming from him the nickname doesn’t sound so bad, it actually makes you want to take back everything you just said. “Babygirl is cute,” he murmurs, sending you a small glance before quickly turning back towards Tara. You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide your flushed cheeks and the smile that won’t go away no matter how hard you try.

“Enough with the babygirl talk,” you groan, but you really loved hearing him say it.

—

From that moment on, you were known as babygirl within the fandom. You couldn’t escape the nickname no matter how hard you tried, and the fans loved teasing you about it. Whether it be through edits, Instagram comments, or tweets; the fans were always calling you the nickname.

Johnnie, Jake and Tara are currently filming yet another video, despite your protests. The three of them are standing behind the kitchen counter, with either tape on their mouths, earmuffs on, or blindfolded. They were trying to bake a cake, something they struggled to do even without the inhibiting factors, so all they were really doing was making a big mess.

They understand your hesitance with being on camera, so they never force you to make any special appearances, but you still loved to watch. You sit behind the counter, just out of view of the camera, watching in amusement as the three interact.

Johnnie keeps getting distracted by you, fumbling and stuttering his way through the intro. You watch as Johnnie struggles to find the supplies needed for the video, searching through every cabinet in the kitchen. “Every time Johnnie says he’s ready, he’s never ready,” Jake comments, adjusting the black beanie on his head. “Where the fuck did I put it? No, Jake where did you put it?” Johnnie replies, scavenging for the baking supplies.

“They’re in the pantry,” you comment, walking over to Johnnie briefly and guiding him towards the pantry. Johnnie smiles at you, grateful that there’s at least one sane person here to help him. The interaction was caught on camera, but you were too distracted to realize.

“Thanks babygirl,” Tara exclaims, bopping her head to the music blasting through her headphones. You roll your eyes, helping Johnnie take everything out of the grocery bags and sprawling them out onto the counter. Once everything is in order, Johnnie’s mouth is quickly covered with a sticker, but he’s happy he isn’t blindfolded because he can keep sneaking glances at you.

The entire situation was chaotic, none of them had any clue how to communicate properly and they had less knowledge on how to bake a cake. Jake’s arms were stretched forward as he tried finding his way through the kitchen, Tara’s loud singing making it hard for them to concentrate on one task alone.

Tara, who wore the headphones, was more focused on singing than the cake. You watch them intently, unable to stop yourself from laughing, “you need to whisk the cake!” Tara, who can’t hear a single thing you’re saying, repeats your statement causing you to burst into laughter.

Johnnie pulls out a plastic butter knife, deeming it appropriate for the task. “Get the beater!” Tara yells, following it by belting out song lyrics. Johnnie has no idea what Tara is talking about, so he sends you a pleading look. If there’s anyone here who’s going to help him finish this cake, it’s you.

“The whisk, get the whisk!” you exclaim, trying to talk over Tara’s singing as best as possible.

“What’s going on?!” Jake asks, one of his flailing arms slapping both Johnnie and Tara. Johnnie’s laughs are muffled by the sticker as he holds the whisk out for Jake, guiding him to the bowl.

“Babygirl?!” Tara is being so loud, her voice a good three octaves higher than normal. “Stop yelling!” you exclaim, but she ignores you and changes the song, continuing to belt out the lyrics.

“Y/n, we need your help,” Jake comments, stirring the bowl so aggressively that it was twirling. “We have no idea what we’re doing,” he continues, lifting the whisk up and blindly taking a lick.

“JAKE DON’T LICK IT!” Tara yells.

Johnnie’s laughter and shocked scream are muffled, his face scrunched up as he laughs uncontrollably, and you can’t look away. You wish you weren’t so shy, so that way you’d be able to join them in this fun activity without feeling anxious.

“This cake is going to be so bad,” you chuckle, catching Johnnie’s attention. His eyes linger on you for a little too long, a moment the fans were definitely going to clip and edit.

“What did you say?! Did you say my singing is bad?!” Tara is still yelling, following each and every statement with loud singing.

Many dirty dishes and a messy kitchen later, the cake is finally done. The oven rings throughout the kitchen, and Jake and Tara send Johnnie to fish the hot pan out. The cake didn’t look too bad, but considering you watched them make it, you weren’t too excited to actually try it.

“You have to wait until it cools to frost it!” Tara exclaims, the headphones causing her volume to be more than pleasant. Johnnie can’t respond because of the sticker, and he doesn’t want to wait for it to cool, so he continues haphazardly spreading the icing over the camera. Jake, on the other hand, is in his own world.

“That actually looks disgusting. It’s raw,” you gasp, watching as Johnnie lifts the spatula to reveal an uncooked, watery mess. “It’s undercooked!” Tara yells, her inability to hear you causing her to repeat everything you say in different words.

Johnnie’s muffled laughter is infectious, earning a string of laughter from you. “Let’s just eat it,” Jake suggests, facing the complete opposite direction of the group. The beanie on his head inhibits him from seeing the state of the cake, but even if he could see it, he would probably still ask for a bite.

“Wait let me help,” you get up from your seat and walk behind the countertop, immediately searching for something to serve the cake in. “This is gonna have to do it,” you hand Johnnie three plastic cups. He scoops up the raw batter, the liquid cake jiggling in the cup and running down the sides, immediately coating his fingers in frosting and batter.

“We’re gonna get salmonella,” Tara is staring at the goopy mess in shock, how had they managed to mess up such a simple recipe?

“I wanna see… I think we should take this off,” Jake yanks his beanie off, a fit of laughter attacking him as soon as he sees the state of the cake. Tara was subconsciously poking at it, creating a big hole in the center. Johnnie’s hands were full of chocolate frosting, and he held them up in exasperation as he waited for someone to remove the sticker from his mouth.

“Here lemme help you,” you murmur, gentle hands removing the sticker. Your touch lingers a little too long, but he doesn’t complain. If he had it his way, you’d have your arms around his neck and his lips would be on yours.

“Thanks, babygirl,” he whispers in return, loving how easily the nickname riled you up. You hated how much you loved hearing him say it.

“This is actually not that bad!” Tara’s boisterous voice breaks you two from the intimate moment, forcing you to reenter reality. “Try it,” Jake suggests, going back for a second scoop.

Johnnie is hesitant, but he grabs the cup and puts a spoonful of the raw cake batter in his mouth. His face contorts in disgust, but it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Here let me try,” you take the cup from him, using his spoon to take your own bite.

As soon as the cake hits your tongue, you’re gagging. “Oh wow this is horrible,” you say, fighting the urge to throw up. They’re all laughing at your reaction, Jake pulling a long hair from his mouth in the process. “I love this hair, adds flavor.”

“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up,” the hair Jake held between his fingers was only making the situation worse for you.

“See, she’s so babygirl,” Tara laughs, joking about the situation even if she found it equally as gross.

—

It seemed like your friends were always filming because every time the four of you hung out there always seemed to be a camera lurking not too far. Like today for example, Tara gathered everyone for a casual hangout, but once you arrived she explained that everyone was going to be living like her for the day. At first, you declined her invitation, making a lame excuse about not feeling good. But she begged and begged for you to be in the video, and before you knew it you were an integral part of it.

“Okay, since you guys are becoming me for the day, it’s only fitting that you dress the part. So, put on these track suits,” Tara says as she hands you, Jake, and Johnnie each a pink track suit. You’re trying to hide from the camera as much as possible, but Tara keeps pulling you back in every time you almost wander away.

The three of you shimmy into the outfits, immediately feeling the Tara Yummy essence wash over you.

“This is sexy,” Jake comments, admiring his figure as the sweatpants hang loosely from his hips. “I’m serving cunt,” Johnnie says, joining Jake in admiring himself. Their tattoos peeked through, contrasting the pink outfits entirely.

You emerge from the hallway seconds later, the track suit providing you with a newfound confidence, “I feel so stupid, but I also kinda feel like that bitch.” You stand still, allowing the camera to pan to you before hitting a dramatic pose. You turn around to show the camera the backside of the suit, the word babygirl written in curly white letters across your ass. “Slay, babygirl, slay,” Tara chimes in, strutting over to you and hitting the same pose.

“Let’s please not start with the babygirl jokes,” you groan jokingly, adjusting the sweatpants that kept riding up, you were starting to get a wedge. But you knew you weren’t going to escape the babygirl comments today, especially not with it written across your backside. It was like a label that you were forced to wear for the rest of the day, and the fans would surely seize the opportunity and run with it. To top it all off, the four of you were so well color coordinated that you looked like a 90’s girl group, ready to perform on stage at any moment.

“This is fun, but I still don’t understand why I’m being forced to do this,” you say, staring at Tara blankly.

“Because you’re my best friend,” she replies cheerily, offering you a big smile and booping your nose. It was hard to stay mad at her. She walks away, joining Jake as they engage in conversation.

“And you’re babygirl,” Johnnie teases, coming up from behind you unexpectedly, immediately causing a blush to form on your face. He loved watching you get flustered over the nickname. He laughs at your reactions, relishing every bit of it.

“Alright, first things first, time to eat. Mama’s hungry,” Tara says, ignoring yours and Johnnie’s interaction before facing the camera and leading everyone to the car. Jake and Tara are far ahead, leaving you and Johnnie to trail behind.

“It’s gonna be leaves,” Johnnie whispers to you, earning a laugh in response. He loved making you laugh. “Yeah, how much you wanna bet we end up at Health Nut?” you ask, settling the bet with a firm handshake between you and Johnnie. His hand holds a firm grip on yours, almost like he’s hesitant to let go as he says goofily, “$2, take it or leave it.”

As predicted, the four of you end up at Tara’s favorite restaurant; Health Nut. It’s no one else’s restaurant of choice, but you’re living as Tara for the day so it doesn’t matter what the rest of you want. You’ve been here with Tara enough to be familiar with the menu, so you order a simple salad and drink before moving to the side and allowing Johnnie to order. Once he’s finished ordering, he pays for your meals before letting Jake and Tara order.

Johnnie is playing it up for the cameras, trying to embarrass himself with his actions before the pink track suit does it for him. He’s sitting on a toddler chair and you stand next to him, choosing him as your comfort zone.

Because you always opted to remain behind the scenes, most of the viewers weren’t completely aware of yours and Johnnie’s dynamic. You two were always clinging to each other in uncomfortable or unfamiliar situations, making quiet jokes to make the other laugh. You both also had a huge crush on each other, which further served as a gravitational pull.

“Order for… babygirl?” the employee calls out, a hint of confusion in their voice as they read the name on the order. This immediately causes you to laugh out loud. “You did not do that,” you whisper shout at Johnnie, who held his hands up in feigned defense as he tries not to burst into laughter. You awkwardly grab the food, both of youwalking over to Tara and Jake’s table.

“Did they just call you babygirl?” Tara asks as soon as you’re sitting down. “Yes dude, fucking Johnnie told them that was my name,” you laugh, hiding your red face in your hands. They call out Tara’s name and she dismisses herself briefly to pick up the food.

“Let’s go!” She exclaims from the restaurant’s front door, bag and drink in hand as she pushes the door open and walks outside. “Oh, I guess Tara Yummy eats in the car,” Jake says sarcastically, the three of you following Tara to the car.

Once you’re in the car, you and Johnnie sit in the backseat while Jake and Tara occupy the front. “I wanted to eat in there, but you guys are so embarrassing,” Tara says, handing Jake his food.

She doesn’t give any of you enough time to respond, “you guys are already pretty embarrassing, but the pink track suits make us all look genuinely crazy.” She’s obnoxiously shaking her salad from the front seat, causing the entire car to rock.

“Damn, don’t gotta put your whole pussy into it,” Jake laughs, earning a sly remark from Tara. Soon, they’re lost in a conversation of their own, leaving you and Johnnie to talk quietly in the back seat.

“Why do you keep pushing this ‘babygirl agenda,’ sir?” You ask, both in true curiosity and to make light of the nickname. He blushes, mindlessly picking at the salad in front of him.

“Oh come on, don’t get all shy now,” you tease, piling up a good bite on your fork. He smiles at you awkwardly, preparing to admit something embarrassing.

“I think it’s kinda cute,” he admits with a shrug, taking a big bite of his food. Your eyes blow open in shock, this whole time you thought he was teasing you, but now it turns out he thinks it’s a cute nickname? “Don’t make fun of me,” Johnnie pleads in defense through a mouthful of food.

“I’m not, I just wasn’t expecting that,” you respond, trying not to be too loud. You couldn’t help it though, your giggles were soon filling the backseat. There was something about the confession that gave you hope that maybe you and Johnnie could be more than just friends. But you don’t want to get your hopes up, ir could easily all be for the video. You’re about to say something crazy and bold, but you’re cut off by Tara.

“Are you two done flirting? Cause I’m in the mood for coffee.” Leave it to her to ruin a sweet moment.

—

The day is finally over and the four of you are now wearing pajamas, reminiscing on the day’s events. Tara and Jake leave once the video is over, leaving you and Johnnie to lay on the large couch. The room is silent, but it’s not awkward, you’re both just catching up and joking.

“I was serious earlier, by the way,” he murmurs, staring at the ceiling above. “Yeah?” you say in a teasing tone, rolling over on your side so you’re facing him.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah. If I’m being honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, I mean the fans definitely have.” You mindlessly play with the strings of your robe, subconsciously scooting closer to him.

“So that’s why you keep calling me babygirl?”

“Mmm yeah, mostly. I think it sounds cute,” he smiles down at you, your figure just slightly further down the couch. You feel a surge of confidence wash over you, something you don’t usually feel as a shy person, and straddle his lap.

He looks at you in shock, both arms limp at his sides. “Say it,” you whisper, moving your face dangerously closer to his. You use your hands to grab his, placing them on your waist. He feels excited, nervous, and shocked all at the same time, was this really happening?

You grind your hips down onto him, hoping to elicit a response from him. “Babygirl,” he whimpers, the sudden friction sending a shiver up his spine that has his hips bucking. You hum in response, finally inching close enough to connect your lips to his.

You’re in a heated make out session, completely obvious to the world around you. Johnnie’s hands are roaming your body, your hips are grinding down onto him, and your fingers are tangled in his hair. You kiss from his lips down to his neck, sucking and biting the delicious skin until you leave a hickey.

The situation is about to escalate, but Jake and Tara interrupt before it can. They saunter in loudly, both you and Johnnie jumping off of each other in shock.

“About damn time!” Jake says, applauding you both for finally make a move on each other. “Get it babygirl!” Tara laughs, joining Jake in his obnoxious round of applause.

“So annoying,” you groan, throwing a pillow at them and shooing them out. Once they’re out of the room, you and Johnnie share a sheepish look.

“You’re never escaping that nickname,” he chuckles, silently pulling you back on top of him. “That’s okay. If you’re the one saying it, I don’t mind,” you murmur, kissing him again.

“Okay, babygirl.”

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: Such a good request, I LUV being challenged with these specific requests!!! Hope I did it justice bby, I rewrote this like 5 times & had a different storyline each time. Also, I mentioned the famous hickey (💀💀) and I changed it from “baby” to “babygirl” because he mentioned that he’s “so babygirl” on Trisha’s podcast.

anyways, enjoy hunny bunches. Luv uuuuu

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

note: requests are open, I will be writing as many as possible because you guys have sooo many good ideas. Please be patient 💗✨

#teapartyanonreqs✨💗#johnnie one shot #johnnie and jake #johnnie guilbert oneshot #johnnie #johnnie guilbert x y/n #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert <3 #johnnie guilbert headcannons #johnnie guilbert angst #johnnie guilbert x you #Johnnie guilbert fanfiction #i love my emo boyfriend

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stars-for-circe · 5 months

Text

Tears

tags / cw: AFAB reader, fingering, smut, tears

So I've come to the revolutionary epiphany that Mizu would 100% be into tears. Like, into it a LOT. She could simply notice your lips start to quiver, a frown start to form, and eyes start to water and girlie would be GONE. Bonus points if its during sex and she's the one that caused it, because knowing she has that sort of control? And that you trust her to such an extent that you would let her overstimulate you, until you're nothing but a babbling, pleading, and crying mess? Yea, she's kicking her feet like a fangirl at that.

She absolutely loves the fact that she has the power to control your every emotion and feeling during sex - that everything that is happening to you right now is in her hands and no one else's, not even yours. She fucking loves that you love and trust her enough to do this to you, and that you get off on it just as much as she does, maybe even more.

I can just imagine how softly she'd cup your face in her hand, swiping her thumb across your cheek to pick up the many tears that have fallen as she coos at you and whispers that you've been so good for her. After she's been edging you for so long, it seems she's finally ready to give you what you want, what you have been wanting since you dragged her to your bedroom.

"Just a little longer, princess. Think you can hold on for a little longer?" She'd murmur, staring hazily into your red, puffy eyes with her own love-filled ones.

Mizu would wait until you let out a cute sniffle while nodding quickly - eager for whatever she would give you - before her eyes turn condescending and cruel.

"Too bad you’ve been a fucking brat all day…”

She'd laugh at your momentary confusion before fucking into you even harder than before, the hand that isn't wrapped around your throat is instead two fingers in and knuckle deep, where she curls them into that spot, making you cry and beg even harder for release.

For a few seconds, Mizu contemplates denying you for even longer, because watching you cry and beg for her is just so enticing, and letting you cum would only put a stop to that. But then she thinks about how loud you would scream her name as you cum, how drunk on her you would be afterwards - all soft and clingy, reduced to nothing, only wanting Mizu.

So instead, she focuses on thrusting her fingers into you and circling her thumb against your clit just right, getting you closer and closer to cumming. And it's when your begging becomes incoherent babbling, and when your tears fall faster as you squeeze your eyes shut, that she adds a third finger - thrusting them deep and curling them hard.

She'd be lying if she said that the sight of you crying her name out like it's the only word you know as you cum, clenching down hard on her fingers, doesn't make her almost cum too - her focused gaze on you would serve as evidence for that. It almost makes her tilt her head back and groan, but then she'd miss what is happening right in front of her.

And when it's finally over, Mizu would slip her fingers out of your pussy and snicker at the gasp you let out when her thumb brushes against your sensitive clit one last time, before forcing your mouth open and watch you suck on them. She'd let you clean yourself off of them before leaning down and softly kissing the tears away on your rosy cheeks.

She would pick you up and carry you to the onsen, no matter if you are bigger or smaller than her (I mean c'mon, she scaled a building with Taigen on her back, a katana between her teeth and MULTIPLE stab wounds), and slowly sink into the warm water, letting it envelop the two of you.

She would cradle you softly in her arms as you bury your head in her neck while she washes you and trails kisses all over your naked body, allowing you to fall asleep at her ministrations, before gently carrying you out and drying you off.

She would hold you close as you drift off to sleep, smiling at how adorable you are, before closing her own eyes and dreaming of you, only you.

And come next morning, when Taigen appears unannounced in your house again while you both are enjoying some tea in the kitchen, Mizu would roll her eyes and grumble at his antics while walking to the bedroom - saying she forgot her glasses in there or something.

Taigen, ever the respectful one, would turn to you, grinning as he points at the hickeys littered on your neck before cracking a series of childish jokes.

"You played it safe, right?"

He snickers, before adding:

"I mean, we don't want any mini-Mizus running around just yet."

....Cue many crashes and curse words from the bedroom.

#mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x you #blue eye samurai x reader #taigen #bes mizu #bes taigen #bes x reader #bes

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norrizzandpia · 2 months

Note

can we please get oscar with logans best friend and he cant help but pout at how close they are??

Aww but this is so cute

When’s It My Turn? (OP81)

Summary: When Oscar can’t find Y/n and realizes she’s off with Logan, he gets possessive over how much time his girlfriend has to give.

Warnings: literally none, Oscar being a cutey

“Have you seen Y/n?” Oscar asked Lando as he sat around in the garage waiting for the car to be fixed for testing.

Lando shook his head, “Uh, no? Shouldn’t you know where she is? You’re her boyfriend.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, “You’re tellin’ me.”

Lando giggled and squinted up at Oscar, “I think I saw her with Logan. She’s probably in Williams. You know how close they are.”

Oscar huffed and began shuffling off toward the large blue building down the paddock, whispering, “Oh, trust me, I know.”

—

He could hear his girlfriend before he saw her. Her bright laugh reverberated off the walls of Williams racing, warming his heart. She came into view when he entered hospitality and he was not surprised to see her laughing with Logan at all. Truth be told, Oscar knew this would happen from the start. Logan and Y/n had been friends for years before the American decided to grace Oscar’s presence with Y/n. They were close, extremely close, and as much as Oscar loved that his girlfriend had a steady, loyal friend in her orbit, he hated the moments where he was filled with jealously like this.

He sidled up next to her when he got close enough, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her temple as Logan stopped talking.

“What’re you doing here?” The American smiled at the sight of the Australian.

“Looking for my girlfriend.” Oscar mumbled, pulling at Y/n’s body lightly to signal he wanted to leave.

She pat his chest softly as she looked up at him, “You’ve found her, I’d say.”

He blushed before reverting his gaze back to Logan, “Mind if I steal her back?”

Logan shook his head and waved his hand around, “Nah, knock yourself out.”

At that, Oscar was practically dragging Y/n out of the building, hands tight on her waist as he steered her away from cameras and fans. Although, she had an inkling there was another reason for his snug hold on her.

“I’m not going anywhere, Osc.” She laughed, pushing him a bit before he pulled her back.

“Oh, sure.” He gave, sarcasm in every syllable of his statement.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He exhaled a loud breath before turning the corner, tugging their bodies into McLaren’s corner of the paddock. “You’re always gone right when I have time to see you.”

Her face scrunched, “No, I’m not.”

He nodded right back at her, “Yes, you are.”

When he closed the door to his driver’s room, she rolled her eyes playfully, “Oscar, no, I am not.”

And when she looked back over at him, his eyes deep with sincerity, she realized he was not playing around, “Yes, you are, Y/n.”

She cocked her head as she stood before him, “Wait, you’re serious?”

He sighed as he shrugged, “Well, I just feel like you’re always with Logan.”

She walked closer to her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his torso and looking up at him with soft eyes, “I’m sorry, Osc, that you feel that way. I don’t mean to make you feel not prioritized.”

His arms rounded her body, “I know, but I just wish I could keep you all to myself. I love that you have close friends. I just wish they weren’t on this paddock.”

She giggled and moved her hands to push the hair out his face, scratching at his scalp lovingly, “I can understand that feeling. I get that way when I see all these fangirls chasing after you. But, I love you. You’re my favorite person. Does that help? What can I do to help?”

He thought for a moment before stooping his head lower and mumbling, “Can I have a kiss?”

She laughed and nodded, “Sure, baby.”

After a few pecks, Oscar pulled back and, in the same volume as before, asked, “Am I really your favorite person? Like, more than Logan?”

Her eyebrow raised as she turned her head to the sides suspiciously, “Between us?”

He giggled and laughed before she continued, “You are my most favorite person. More favorite than Logan.”

He kissed her cheek and pulled her further into him, “Well, if that’s the case…”

“It is the case, Osc. You’ll always be my favorite.” She smiled, kissing his shoulder softly.

He blushed and squeezed her lightly, “You’re my favorite too.”

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri

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zanarkandskylines · 1 month

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₊✩‧₊ ⇢ gamer boyfriend!kirishima

『 ♡ 』 kirishima & mild KiriBaku x fem!reader (18+ under the cut!) -`✧ eijiro kirishima masterlist

✩ kirishima loves gaming with his buddies every friday night to blow off steam and hang out with his bro squad. they start bullshitting the idea of starting a streaming group and decide to give it a shot.

✩ the bits and pieces for streaming come in the mail - boxes at a time. while he’s at work one day, you spend the entire afternoon building his desk, moving his PC and setting up all the streaming equipment in the office.

✩ bakugo, kaminari, sero and kirishima decide to call themselves “the riot squad.”

✩ you’re the group’s first viewer on their debut stream. kirishima excitedly interacts with you through the chat as he games for hours, the others interchangeably commenting on your messages playfully.

✩ one viral gaming clip later, the boys have gained over 5,000 followers in a month’s time. you’ve helped kirishima build an entire discord server for the community they’ve built and moderate their streams alongside a few other friends.

✩ plenty of fans clamor over bakugo with his naturally flawless features and brash personality, but you love watching kirishima get flustered over his own fan girls. it’s one of your favorite things to tease him about.

✩ you may or may not secretly let seductive messages slide through his discord DMs from horny fangirls. seeing his face redden when you dare him to respond, or that they have excellent taste being thirsty for him.

✩ sometimes when kirishima gets frustrated over losing matches, you crawl under his desk quietly while he’s distracted. it’s almost comical how his legs instinctually part when you run your fingers up his thighs before palming his already half-hard cock through his shorts.

✩ he lets you shift his clothes around to wrap your soft fingers around his shaft, trying to mask what’s going on behind the scenes as he continues playing.

✩ when you start stroking him lazily, he surprisingly plays better! you can hear the boys cheering him on through his headset as his legs quiver at your touch.

✩ by the time your mouth engulfs his cock, he’s sweating while keeping his best poker face on for the stream. you can hear him panting silently between matches. he mutes his mic to let out a moan or a whine every now and again.

✩ before he cums, he announces to the boys that it’s time to wrap up the stream, saying their goodbyes and switching off the stream. he practically throws his headset off his head and scoops you off the floor and into his lap. he never lets himself finish before you do.

✩ what he doesn’t expect is that you’d been playing with yourself and have soaked through your panties, begging him to fuck you. and he obliges every time - in the gaming chair, sprinting to his bedroom, or up against the wall of the office.

✩ he once forgot to turn off his webcam with the boys as you crawled into his lap, misclicking on the screen and leaving it on. the only person on the call was bakugo, who tried to motion for him to turn it off, but ended up becoming enamored in his best friend fucking his girlfriend. kirishima would shoot a confident grin over your shoulder and into the camera at bakugo as he watched the two of you.

✩ kirishima never expected to establish the tradition of fucking you post-stream and letting bakugo watch you two every once in awhile. he loved showing off how sexy your body was and how pretty your moans sounded, especially to his best friend. it was their best kept secret.

✩ reading bakugo’s filthy messages to your joint discord chat with kirishima is one of the best things to come out of this streaming idea. “how’d you bag a girl with such a perfect ass?” “the way her cunt sucks up your thick cock is fuckin’ hot, ei” “who knew you could fuck like that?” “can’t believe she likes showing off for you like a good little slut” “fuck, you two are better than any nasty ass porn”

✩ both kirishima and bakugo played exponentially better any night you three had a private stream - you became their lucky charm as their internet infamy climbed higher and higher.

⋆ ˚ʚɞ — kirishima showing you off to his friends? hot as fuck. 🥵✨ gamer kiri lives in my head rent free. he’s so goddamn cute and i’d love to spoil him while he plays in any way he’d let me. shoutout to @pastelbakugou for fueling my kiri thirst! 🤭

#kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #kirishima smut #kirishima drabble #eijiro kirishima #kirishima headcanon #kirishima imagine #bakusquad #bakugo smut #kirishima eijiro #katsuki bakugo #my hero academia headcanons #my hero academia smut #☆.rei writes

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princessbrunette · 1 month

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jj is so funny because he doesn’t even pick up on half the looks you’re giving him.

he’s always oblivious for a little while, tugging you around with him on a pogue mission only a few hours after he made you cream on his dick so hard you cried. you’re quiet, uncharacteristically so — not even intervening like you usually would when he pipes up with a dumb idea. you physically can’t. you can’t see any of his faults like this, only latching on harder to his charisma and the way he can command the groups attention at the drop of a hat.

you’ll take any excuse to touch him, giving him the big doe eyes as you cling to his bicep listening to him ramble. “look, i’m tellin’ you guys — it’s a solid idea. we got nothin’ else so i suggest y’all listen to me, honestly.” he clucks in that slightly southern accent that makes your tummy get warm. john b sighs, turning his attention to you.

“you allowing this?” he asks and you simply nod, unable to offer anything but a hazy smile.

when arriving to the abandoned building you were meant to be investigating, you get separated for a little bit — much to your devastation. you wait outside on look out with kie and sarah, whilst the boys check out the inside. jj flips a torch in his hand, chipper as ever as he strolls through the building, looking around.

his two friends eye eachother before speaking up.

“so, uh… jayj, i hate to be the one to tell you that you’re totally blind, but i think your little fangirl out there has been craving a little something from you.” john b arrives at his side, addressing the elephant in the room that the blonde seemed unaware of.

“what are you yappin’ about, dude?” jj is distracted, lifting a cover off some old tools lying around on the floor, making a mental note of how they might help them in a jam.

“your girlfriend looks like she’s constantly about to jump your bones.” pope calls bluntly from behind, a few strides back. jj’s attention is captured and he blinks at the two boys who stare at him with knowing smiles. he glances between the two of them before shaking his head.

“oh, nah — gave it to her real good this morning. had her cryin’ on it n’shit. ain’t no way she’s goin’ again, atleast until tomorrow.” he converses casually as they continue down the creaky path. john b and pope look at eachother with clear realisation on their faces, and the brunette slaps his shoulder.

“so that’s what that face is about… okay. she’s uh… dickmatised, man.” he presses his lips together in a smug smile and jj raises an eyebrow.

“cant just make up words, dude. its not fair. some of us struggle with regular words let alone that bullshit.”

“look, all we’re saying is we are proud of you jj. you’ve clearly been putting in the work.” pope teases making john b chuckle, nudging his arm against your boyfriends.

“y’all are so weird. but yes, for a matter of fact, i have.”

once reunited with you, he can’t hold back his own smirk, tonguing at the healing cut on his lip at the way you agree with just about anything he says, constantly reaching to run your hands along his skin. he finds fun in teasing you, purposely flustering you because he can, turning his whole body to face you and imposing in your space.

“damn, lil’ bitta’ dick and you get shy on me? thats actually very cute. i’m flattered.”

maybe you could go again, after all.

#jj maybank prompt #it’s this gif…… it does things to me

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mydearzero · 8 months

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Lisztomania | Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Years after joining the BAU, you thought you'd gotten past your little celebrity-like infatuation with Spencer, the whole reason you applied for the BAU. A case involving the murder of several groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band is bound to prove you wrong.

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

4.7K words

It wasn't an everyday occurrence that Spencer would be the one to deliver the profile to the public. He looked a lot more stoic on TV than in real life. You never failed to be amazed by how he could still surprise you over the years. He looked confident, and it was a good look on him.

"-The man we're looking for is between the ages of 25 and 40. He is of an average build. He's likely socially inept and doesn't mingle well with his peers. Please be on the lookout for anybody who fits this description and contact the FBI through the local Police Department. Thank you."

"Someone's gawking." Emily's words startled you out of your Spencer-induced trance. You crossed your arms and grumbled.

"No, I wasn't..." You bit the inside of your cheek as Emily pat your shoulder and scoffed a laugh.

"Sure, you weren't. I gotta give it to you. TV does Boy Wonder well." Emily said as she watched the head of the local Police Department take over the press conference as Spencer left the screen.

"I guess I'm just amazed at how different he looks while doing press. Compared to how he usually carries himself, I mean." You shrugged. Emily turned to look at you, no longer interested in the TV screen.

"Guess that's the profiler in all of us. You can't help but compare. But you're right. Reid does have a certain je ne sais quoi about him, I suppose."

_________

That was several months ago. It wasn't until you saw Spencer in front of a classroom that a familiar, uneasy feeling returned to your stomach. Emily was right. He did 'have a certain je ne sais quoi about him'. You just couldn't put your finger on what it was.

"-Which is why it's crucial we always discuss the details of the COD with the coroner's office. COD being the Cause of Death, of course." Spencer spoke with an air of juvenile enthusiasm. You were glad he still had that part in him, despite everything that happened previous to his teaching.

He finished the class and was about to walk over to where you were leaning against the wall, waiting for him to finish. But when he was nearly done packing his satchel, a small group of college girls formed around his desk. The soft smile he'd directed at you was quickly cut short.

You stared in amazement at the girls' shameless flirting. Spencer had turned this group of brilliant and educated girls into giddy schoolgirls, all by just being himself. They all wanted a piece of him, and you started to have peace with the fact that you didn't blame them. You were in the same boat.

_________

The final straw was during a case concerning a string of murders involving groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band.

"I mean, I get the urge to throw your panties on stage at an attractive man. I do. Even I would've taken the bait with Nick Carter, given the chance. But to follow a random stranger down a dark alley in the hopes of meeting your idol? That seems a bit far-fetched. Girls this age are smarter than that, especially with the media frenzy." JJ flipped through the details described in the case file.

"There's been several cases of fangirls going to great lengths to get what they want from their idol. The earliest case would probably be with Hungarian composer Franz Liszt in 1841.

The term 'Lisztomania' came about in 1844, describing an intense level of hysteria demonstrated by fans, a bit like the treatment of celebrity musicians today – but in a time not known for such musical excitement.

A more recent example would be Beatlemania, or even the so-called 'Bieber Fever' or 'One Direction Infection'. There have been several studies that explain this behaviour, but I won't get into that." Spencer trailed off.

"I know someone else who had a case of that. But I think that was just called a hard-on." JJ joked, jabbing at Spencer's short-lived fling with Lila Archer over ten years ago. Spencer grumbled something along the lines of "Can we please let that go," but it fell on deaf ears.

"It's still strange they would follow someone down the alley unless the person they're following has been established in the girls' minds as someone with authority, like a crew member connected to the band," Rossi mentioned.

"Garcia, look into all the current members of the band's crew along with the people working at the venues. We're going to need you at the scene, too. There's a lot of social media involved. Thank you. Wheels up in 30." Hotch stood up, signalling the meeting was finished.

You walked with Emily back to the bullpen, Spencer following close behind.

"You know, I get it. There's something attractive about a man with a platform, even if you put him on that pedestal yourself, to begin with." Emily said as you leaned against her desk.

"Yeah, for sure. It doesn't have to be a pop star or actor. A celebrity, even. Could be anybody under the right circumstances." You agreed. You could see the appeal in having an unrelenting devotion to someone like that.

You put Spencer on a pedestal like that, in a way. You watched as he gathered his things into his go-bag. You knew he was a flawed person, like anybody. Yet, in your eyes, all his problems could be explained or ignored. You didn't notice the curious glance Emily sent your way.

While on the jet, you contemplated the case. Would you have fallen for the ruse? Maybe if you had been a bit younger? You'd had your own little celebrity obsessions. You wouldn't have ruled it out if free tickets and a meet & greet were in the picture.

It was a quick but convoluted catch once the profile was made. Thank you, Penelope. The UnSub was most likely one of the band's crew members who used to date the bassist. They'd broken up due to an increasing number of groupies getting in the way of their relationship. Go figure she'd go and murder them.

The catch happened right in time with the start of the show, the bustling crowd missing all of the mayhem that had gone down backstage due to the support act. How the gigs hadn't been cancelled yet was beyond you.

"You can stay and watch the show from the VIP area if you want. It's the least we can do, really. Though, maybe ditch the FBI gear." The lead singer had a charming smile. You could see how the crowd waiting for him could be captivated by his energy.

After Hotch checked with the hotel and pilot, the team decided to take the band up on their invitation. After a quick shower and change at the hotel, you drove back to the venue in groups.

You were escorted to a barricaded area near the front of the stage. The energy of the crowd was exhilarating. An electric tension hung in the air as the 30-minute change-over between the support was filled with soft music from a playlist.

JJ and Rossi came bearing gifts, both carrying several drinks to hand out to the team. You thanked them as you took one, taking a sip of the ice-cold drink. You deserved to relax and enjoy a night like this after the gruelling case.

You watched unabashedly at Spencer, red overhead lights casting down on his face. You'd like to see how he'd do on the stage, perhaps in an alternate universe, and with a different wardrobe. He was undoubtedly eclectic enough to pull off the whole rock star gig.

He felt your gaze and made eye contact, working his way past a wildly gesturing Emily as she told a story. He lightly grabbed your upper arm when he reached you.

"Hey." You saw his mouth move, but his words got lost under the chattering crowd. You smiled and leaned closer.

"Hi! Fancy seeing you here!" You shouted. Spencer winced as he laughed. You'd obviously overestimated the volume of the crowd. You mouthed a quick apology before taking another drink.

You nearly choked when Spencer leaned even closer, invading your personal bubble (that was already narrow), to talk directly in your ear.

"Did you know that typical movement behaviour at large events like these increases the risk of spreading infectious diseases?" You bit your lip as you stopped yourself from laughing. Leave it up to Spencer to break the tension like that.

"It makes sense, I guess. Lots of people, lots of bodily fluids. Kinda gross, now that I think about it," you replied.

Just as he was about to speak again, the lights dimmed, and screams filled the stadium. You gave him a small smile, which he returned, afterwards turning to look at the show. He stood behind you for the majority of the show, and while you would've loved to admire him in the gorgeous lighting a little longer, you couldn't have asked for a better person to have rubbed up against you for an hour and a half.

After the show, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ decided to return to the hotel for some much-needed rest ahead of their early flight the following day. The rest headed out to a bar just around the corner of the venue. You walked quickly, the cold of the outside being a jarring change from the heat at the concert.

You were a few drinks in when Penelope brought up a subject you'd somehow managed to avoid all these years.

"If I hadn't joined the FBI, I would've liked to be some sort of celebrity," She mentioned, taking another sip through her straw.

"Considering the type of psychos we encounter on a daily basis, I'd rather be less known, not more." Emily shuddered. You were quick to agree. Although fame was attractive on some level, you wouldn't want to risk situations like those you'd witnessed these last few days in exchange.

"What made you want to become an agent in the first place?" Penelope turned to you before continuing. "I didn't have much of a choice, to be honest. It was jail or the FBI, and I'm not jail material. I mean, look at me!" She gestured wildly to herself.

You chuckled and decided to pick an opt-out answer. "I just saw it as the right thing to do, you know? Make the world a better place, even if it's only little by little." You shrugged.

Spencer squinted as he ran his eyes over your face. "Bullshit." He determined. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his callout.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned genuinely. Sure, you hadn't been entirely honest, but it wasn't a lie.

"You're lying, I can tell. You do that thing with your face. Besides, that's the most basic answer ever. Surely a person with as much integrity as you do would have a better reason than a moral superiority complex." Spencer stated matter-of-factly. You gaped at his accusation.

"He's right, though. You have no connection to the Bureau. Reid is a wunderkind, Garcia is basically an ex-con, and I'm a child of nepotism. What made you apply? And for the BAU of all places?" Emily wondered out loud.

You recoiled as you realised there was no getting out of this. If you were going to dance around the subject, Penelope would get too curious, anyways. She'd have your application and its details pulled up in no time. That, along with cross-referencing the BAU with your college, it wouldn't take a mastermind to figure out what happened.

"I actually followed a lecture on sexual sadism and the Mill Creek Killer back in college that made me wonder if I'd be cut out for it." You admitted, omitting some key details.

The one secret you'd sworn to take to your grave was that Spencer was the sole reason you were with the FBI in the first place, having followed one of his guest lectures a few years back.

He hadn't even left the room before you'd turned in your online application to the Academy.

"Why not mention that in the first place? God, no need to be so secretive about it." Penelope whined. You didn't answer as you tentatively sipped your drink, feeling busted for no reason.

You glanced up to look at an overly smug and amused Spencer. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you realised you were most definitely caught.

"You know, when Hotch first introduced us to you, I thought I recognised you from somewhere. But the memory I have of that lecture is actually overshadowed by this kid who was also there, Nathan Harris. He ended up killing some prostitutes. But now that you mention it, you did go to Georgetown, didn't you?" Spencer knew he was right. He just wanted to see how you were going to talk yourself out of this one.

"Oh, you gave that lecture? I never realised..." It was a pathetic lie, and there was no hiding it. Emily snorted out loud. She'd clocked your little 'thing' for Spencer long ago, you knew that much.

"Aww, you looked up to Spencer? That's so cute!" Penelope gushed. That sure was one way to put it. You made a face that must've said as much.

"What, you didn't look up to me? I'm offended. Here I thought I was your favourite professor." Spencer joked. He excused himself as he walked to the bathroom. Great timing, as it gave you time to rid your cheeks of the flush you were sporting.

"Be honest with me. And don't bother lying because we've all seen the heart eyes you throw at Pretty Boy. Were you genuinely interested in joining because of the subject matter? Or..." Emily encouraged you to answer.

You sighed as you brought a hand to your face. "Honestly? I wasn't sure if I wanted to be him or be with him. But at least I signed up for the class out of genuine interest! There were plenty of girls there that were there purely for the hour-long eye candy!" You defended yourself.

"And you applied for the Academy after the lecture? At least it must've been interesting." Penelope wondered out loud.

"Actually..." You winced. "He'd hardly even been done with his introduction before I'd filled in the online application. But I was very single, okay? And he'd already built up this celebrity status on campus." It felt nice to admit to it after years of harbouring it.

"Oh! You naughty little fangirl!" Penelope exclaimed.

"I'm not a fangirl! It's been years!" You groaned. You took it back. It didn't feel nice. You should've kept it to yourself.

"Who are you a fangirl of?" Spencer asked, putting a new glass in front of Emily and sitting back down by your side.

"You! She's a total groupie." Penelope betrayed you. You shot her a nasty look, but it went ignored by her drunken, self-satisfied glee.

"Is that so?" Spencer turned to you with his eyebrows raised.

"Oh yeah, total Reidiac. You should give her an autograph." Emily winked. Spencer laughed and shook his head at their antics.

The conversation moved on, but you felt the dynamic between Spencer and you had changed, even when unspoken. When Penelope and Emily were caught up discussing cats, Spencer leaned against your side, whispering in your ear once more. Unlike last time, he didn't break the tension, even when telling another fact.

"Garcia called you my groupie earlier. Do you know the textbook definition of the term 'groupie'?" His voice was huskier than usual, coated with the alcohol and late hour. You shook your head timidly, urging him to continue.

"A groupie is typically explained as a young woman who regularly follows a celebrity, especially in the hope of having a sexual relationship with them." His lip brushed against your ear as he whispered the words. A cold chill went down your spine at his insinuation.

"You're no celebrity, Spence." You answered apprehensively. He didn't move, still leaning into your side, out of sight. You couldn't gauge his expression.

"Maybe not in the classic sense of the word. But I have a Wikipedia page. Surely, that amounts to some celebrity status." He joked. You closed your eyes, tension slowly disappearing after the vibe of the conversation changed back to casual banter.

Was he insinuating what you thought he was?

You got your answer as soon as the four of you headed to the hotel. You bid your goodbyes to Emily and Penelope before turning to put the keycard in the door to your room. You heard a couple of doors close, and just when you turned the handle, there was a hand on your shoulder, pushing you inside and closing the door. You whipped around, only to be faced with Spencer.

"Spenc-"

"You deflected earlier." He interrupted.

"Deflected what?" Your heart was racing. Whether from the shock of his sudden intrusion or the proximity, you weren't sure.

"The definition of a groupie. And how Garcia is right, you totally are one."

You gaped at the insinuation.

"Don't look shocked now! You are totally one of those girls who audit my class." He grinned.

"You wish! I'll have you know you were scrawny at best when you gave that one lecture I attended." You huffed, crossing your arms.

"Were scrawny? Past tense?" Spencer egged you on.

"Shut up. You know you've built up some muscle since then. Hell, maybe you even grew a couple of inches." You rolled your eyes.

Spencer decided to ignore the comment and put his hand in his pocket, fishing for something. He finally pulled something out, looking way too smug for his own good. "I brought a Sharpie. You know, for your autograph."

Fine. If he wasn't going to stop this ridiculous teasing, you were going to cross the 'groupie' line.

"Oh my god! I like, totally want your autograph, Spency!" You started, looking him dead in the eyes as your hands made their way to the hem of your shirt.

"Will you sign my tits?" You challenged, lifting your top far enough to expose your bra to its fullest extent.

Spencer obviously hadn't expected that, struggling to come up with a quick-witted response. You shrugged as you took the shirt off.

"I see. You require a larger surface area. I get it. Big ego, bigger signature." Spencer finally broke when you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra.

"Hey, hey. Stop. I can sign them like this just fine, sweetheart." You knew he was simply going along with the rockstar act, but the nickname sent blood rushing to your cheeks either way.

"Okay, hot shot." You smirked, pushing your chest out. He hadn't expected you to actually let him sign your chest. He scrambled to take the cap off. He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

"Stand still. You want it to come out perfect, don't you?"

You held your breath when he brought the Sharpie up to your breasts. You looked at his face as he appeared laser-focused on giving you the best autograph of your life. Why was it that such a stupid joke felt like the most sensual experience of your life?

The tip of the Sharpie tickled as it danced across your chest. He finished the signature with a dot on the I in Reid.

"There, perfection." He whispered, but his eyes were no longer glued to your scantily clad upper body. You searched his face for hesitation but only found his determined gaze settled on your parted lips.

He made eye contact as if asking permission. You'd barely nodded before his hands cupped your face, and lips were on yours, sucking all the air out of your lungs. His body pressed up against your own, frantically shedding the layers keeping you separated. You kept kissing him while desperately reaching for his belt.

You hadn't noticed you'd slowly made your way to the bed in the back of the hotel room until Spencer pulled away to remove his tie. You let yourself fall onto the sheets, ridding yourself of your bottoms. They got stuck at your ankles as you forgot your shoes.

"I got it." Spencer's voice was unrecognisably hoarse. He kicked off his own shoes and made his way over to the bed in only his boxers. He tugged at your shoes after undoing the laces and discarded them somewhere in the room.

You'd never seen a sight quite like Spencer leaning over you as he rested one knee on the bed. He put his hand beside your face and you met his eyes. His head blocked the dim yellow ceiling light, lighting him perfectly from behind. It was ridiculous how angelic he could look, even in these stereotypically sinful circumstances.

"Are you sure about this?" Spencer asked. Always considerate. What a gentleman.

"I've been sure ever since that stupid lecture, dork." You joked. Spencer smiled and leaned down, placing a kiss under your ear. His breath was hot on your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, down to his crudely placed signature.

You leaned on your elbows as Spencer reached behind your back to finally unclasp your bra. You let your back meet with the sheets again as he pulled the straps down your arms. You heard him take a deep breath as he took in the sight before him.

You pulled him down for another kiss, unsatiable now that you'd gotten a taste. His hands reached for your chest and experimentally pinched a nipple. You inhaled sharply through your nose. The combined sensation of his mouth and large hands on your body, as his hips sought more and more friction, was delectable.

His hands slowly reached further down, toying with the edge of your underwear.

"Don't tease." You whined, already too riled up.

"Patience is a virtue," Spencer murmured against the skin of your jaw, hooking his finger under the elastic band.

"Patience, my ass, Reid. I need you." It came out more desperate than you intended, but it seemed to do the trick. He yanked the underwear down your legs, followed by his own.

"Condom?" He asked. You shook your head.

"Don't care. I'm clean, and God knows you are. Wanna feel you." You answered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Spencer laughed, taking his cock in his hand and running it through your folds.

"Have you met yourself? You won't even shake hands, Doct-oh, oh Jesus Christ." Spencer interrupted your banter by sliding inside in one go. You closed your eyes as you pulled him close, begging him to kiss you.

He slowly started moving as you regained your ragged breath. The low grunts falling from his lips against yours were magical, but you wanted more. Your fingers made their way up to his hair, tentatively tugging at the roots. Your grip tightened at a particularly harsh thrust, and Spencer's response was everything you were searching for.

"Holy fuck, oh my God- Uh-" His grunts slowly tuned whinier as you kept your grip on his hair. He brought a hand to your clit, rubbing circles in tandem with his thrusts.

"Look at me, baby." He moaned in your ear. He leaned back, and your eyes fluttered open, though with difficulty. Your instinct was to squeeze them shut with pleasure. He looked ravenous, pupils blown wide, panting with the physical effort.

You lazily wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him even closer.

"Shit, Spencer," you moaned as the new angle reached a spot inside you you'd only ever dreamed of. Your eyes squeezed shut again, unable to keep them open. Spencer removed the hand rubbing your clit and moved it to your chin, placing a small kiss on your lips.

"Eyes on me, come on. I know you can do it." He encouraged. Something about his coercive tone let you know there was a side to Spencer you had yet to see. You opened your eyes and were met with the sight of his eyebrows furrowed with effort.

The noises coming from Spencer sped up along with the desperate pace of his hips. The combination of his whines with yours and the sound of skin on skin was anything but serene. You felt yourself nearing the edge, clawing at his back in an attempt to ground yourself.

"Spencer! Fuck, oh my god," it was hardly distinguishable what you were saying, mumbles of pleasure stringing together into an unintelligible mess. His cock slid again and again and- you couldn't take it.

Your hands left his hair in favour of running your nails harshly over his back. Spencer was seemingly a glutton for pain, moaning at the sensation.

"I- Shit, I'm gonna cum. D'you want me to pull out?" Spencer's thrust faltered. You knew you had to answer fast. You tightened your grip on him with your legs.

"Please, Spencer. Please come inside me. Want to feel you cum." You begged.

"Fuck, okay. Okay. O-" His head dropped down to your shoulder as his unrelenting hips sped up one more time, bringing you both to your high. You felt his cock twitch as your walls tightened around him.

"Spencer!" You shouted as you came, feeling him spill inside you.

"So good for me. So gorgeous. Perfect." Spencer mumbled as he peppered you with kisses, hips slowing down as he came down from his high. Your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath.

Spencer carefully pulled out, making sure not to spill anything and soil the sheets. He stepped off the bed and spread your legs, before leaning back down and licking a drop of cum threatening to spill.

"Shit, Spencer! Too sensitive!" You pushed his head away. He laughed before heading to the bathroom, returning with a dampened towel.

The nighttime routine that followed felt domestic. You peed, brushed your teeth, ignored the sight of his signature and hickies on your boobs, and headed to bed.

"Can I borrow your toothbrush?" Spencer asked from the bedroom. He hadn't asked to stay. But then again, you hadn't asked him to leave. You didn't want him to.

"You just licked your own cum from my vagina, and you ask if you can borrow my toothbrush? Be my guest, Reid." You scoffed, lying down under the sheets.

"Hey, people have their preferences, okay? Didn't want to overstep." Spencer said as he returned from the bathroom, lying down beside you.

Against your better judgement, Spencer stayed. You knew the entire team would be up and around, bright and early. But you didn't care. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

He left early the following morning. You were sure he hadn't had nearly enough beauty sleep. He could nap on the plane, you shrugged. There were no regrets from either party over the loss of sleep.

You hadn't thought too much about your outfit before heading down to breakfast. An honest mistake one can make when staying up late and getting up early. You were exhausted, let alone hung over. You realized your mistake when the ever-stoic eyes of Aaron Hotchner immediately snapped down to the tank top you were wearing the second you stepped out of the elevator, the words 'Spencer Reid' still obscenely sprawled across your chest, accompanied by several suspicious bruises.

Your eyes went wide as you followed his gaze, quickly zipping up your hoodie. How could you possibly have forgotten that part? You met Hotch's eyes. Before you could try to babble yourself out of this one, he held up a hand to stop you. "I don't want to know."

You clenched your lips as you nodded. "Noted, bossman."

The small smile tugging at the corner of his lips didn't escape you, and neither did the exchange of money between him and Rossi not 5 minutes later.

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facefullofsadness · 2 months

Note

Can I request reader eating hanni out like the same thing you did with the Sakura fic

precious baby hanni I love her sm 😩

content - highschool!au, smut (virginity taking/first time, cunnilingus, gagging *not throwing up but stuffing the mouth to suppress sounds*), fluffy

wc - 1492

a/n - I have a gf!hanni hc that she calls her s/o darling with her sweet lil aussie accent and that her s/o loves calling her honey bc well, hanni!

hanni is suchhh a high school sweetheart.

I think it's a cliché heartthrob, oblivious, teen love story where you two became best friends overtime after meeting each other in class on the first day, your seating arrangement forcing you to talk to each other. and the more you got to know her, the more you started to fall. her smile, her aura, her personality, her voice, her talent, everything attracted you to her.

and she's sooo in the same boat with you. she lights up at the mention of your name, perks up when she sees you from across the room, runs after you and suffocates you in an adorable embrace. everyone around you two roll their eyes because neither of you can see how fucking in love the other is, too scared of rejection. so expect groans and "finally!"s to come out of your friends' mouths when you guys get together (minji and haerin were sick and tired, but dani and hyein were fangirling).

it took some time to build up to anything sex related. you both were young and inexperienced virgins, being each other's first kiss and everything, and even that was really hard and awkward to get over. even just talking about it made hanni's cheeks flush red, and you would just nervously laugh (how insufferably adorable hmph). BUT, being young also meant being unbelievably hormonal and horny, so eventually, when it got too much to handle, you made the first move.

a sleepover at hanni's. you and all of your guys' friends having a cute lil girls' night filled with games, movies, and snacks! you and your girlfriend cuddling on the couch as the night goes on and each girl knocks out one by one, dragging themselves upstairs to sleep in the guest bedrooms, leaving you and hanni left in the living room. a random chick flick plays on the screen as you pull her even further into you, nestling your face into her neck and planting kisses.

she squirms slightly in your grasp and giggles at your actions, lacing her fingers through your hair with one hand, another hand gripping your thigh beside her.

"darling, that tickles! what are you doing?" she questions.

"hanni... I don't know how much longer I wanna beat around the bush with this," you mumble against her skin, your eyes closed and your hands slipping under her tank top.

you feel her stiffen slightly in your hold, making you stop your kisses. she knows what you're talking about, but she panics slightly at the thought.

"darling, I don't know... they're just upstairs," hanni states hesitantly.

"I know honey, but just be quiet for me? yeah? can you do that?" you whisper sweetly.

her face looks distressed when you look up at her, wanting to say yes but too scared to go through with it. you pull away slowly, accepting her silence as a rejection like the respectful girlfriend you are, but she pulls your arm back, burying her face into your shoulder and mumbling.

"okay..."

you smile and kiss the top of her head, "we don't have to do it if you don't want to, my love."

"I want to!" she expresses a little too loud before lowering her voice again, "I want to, I'm just nervous."

you hold her face in your hands and place a soft peck on her lips, "It's okay, I am too. we'll learn together, right?"

she nods and grins slightly, leaning in to start making out with you, her hands in your hair pulling you into her. you reciprocate her needy kiss and push her backward to lay on the couch. your lips travel down her jaw to her neck, kisses gentle but passionate, leaving marks in discrete places, hanni biting her lip to suppress her whines.

you whisper into her ear, "turn the volume up."

she nods and reaches for the remote, increasing the sound of the movie on the tv, immediately releasing a small whimper when she feels your thumbs around her nipples. you travel down and undo her shorts with your mouth, sliding both articles of clothing off of her legs.

"we're gonna have to be quick if we don't wanna get caught, okay?" you tell her.

her eyes plead with you to keep going, but she responds anyway, "okay, that's fine. what about you?"

how sweet, always thinking about her gf.

you smile back, pecking her lips, "maybe next time, it is YOUR sleepover after all."

she rolls her eyes and pushes you back, giggling, "stupid."

you return back to before, sliding down her body and pushing her legs apart gently, your hands caressing her thighs. you look up at her for approval and she nods her head at you, anticipating your next move. so you move in, tongue swiping against her puffy pussy. you hear her breath hitch as the wet muscle between hanni's legs twirled and licked at her clit and cunt, clutching your wrists in pleasure.

"does that feel good?" you gasp out against her pussy lips.

"mmf, fuck, yes darling, feels s-so good..." she pants, your tongue going back to work.

she tries to bite down on one of her hands to suppress how good your mouth feels around her, your lips sucking at your clit while your tongue flicks at it, sometimes going and repeating the action to her entrance, your tongue darting inside and massaging inside her walls. but the pleasure was just too much, she couldn't stay quiet.

suddenly, you pull away and pick up her panties from the floor. hanni panics and worries that you stopped because she was being too loud, resulting in you making her get dressed again. but before she could speak up and apologize for her volume, you ball up her underwear and stuff it in her mouth, making her whimper when you do.

you kiss her cheek and look into her eyes, locking your gaze with her wide one, "you need to be quiet for me hon, be a good girl for me."

she gulps and you can see the lump travel down her throat before she nods and grips the material of your clothes on your shoulders. you lower yourself against her entrance before drinking in her essence, coating your tongue and drinking it down. her grip on your clothes tightens and she bites down on her gag, clamping her eyes shut and panting into her underwear.

her hips are moving uncontrollably, her stomach twisting and turning with pleasure at this new feeling. of course she's masturbated before, but she's never felt this good. with you eating her out like a pro below her, she swears she could get addicted to the feeling of your mouth on her. and she feels so warm, you're so gentle with her and treating her with the utmost care, but giving it your all to make sure hanni feels fucking amazing, and she does.

even through the loud movie and her panties in her mouth, muffling her moans, you can hear her tiny whimpers escaping her throat with every stroke of your tongue. the way her hips jolt and her legs shake, her upper half squirming in your hold, you know you're doing good and you smile against her core.

with a final suck of her clit, you feel her body tremble, her back arches into you, and her nails sting as they dig into your shoulders through the material. you open your eyes to look up at your girlfriend as her head is thrown back against the armrest and eyes clamped shut, biting down on her underwear for dear life, you're scared she might hurt herself.

you stop your movements and lick gently against her pussy, helping her ride out the high, pulling away as soon as she jerks from overstimulation. crawling up to face her sweaty forehead and hazy eyes, taking her panties out of her mouth. her mouth hangs open as you feel her hot breath panting against your lips. you kiss her sweetly and smile against her.

"good?" you ask simply.

"really good," hanni replies, her blinks slow as she passes out on the couch.

you melt at how adorable she is, slipping back on her clothes onto her limp sleeping body before finding a blanket and draping it over the both of you, laying your head on her shoulder before drifting to sleep too.

the next morning, you're both awaken to loud groaning. you rub your eyes of exhaustion to find an angry minji.

"god guys, if you're gonna fuck, PLEASSSEEEEE let me NOT be here," she huffs, pouting in her pajamas and plopping down on the other sofa with a bowl of cereal.

"they were fucking? I'm never coming back to this house," haerin echoes in the kitchen while you blush, feeling your gf bury her face into your shoulder.

"I told you to be quiet," you whisper into her ear, making hanni hit your shoulder.

a/n - I LOVE HANNI SO MUCH MY BABY MY BABY MY GF MY SWEET POOKIE PIE I LOVE HER

568 notes · View notes

yoonguurt · 5 months

Text

Summary: A failed relationship and an ailing mother forces Y/N to move back to her hometown, despite not wanting to. She knows in her heart that everything will be the same as the day she left. Nothing ever changes in a small town. Except when it does. A new neighbor, a new hardware store, and two new additions to the town bring the holiday magic into Y/N’s life. The question is, will the magic stay or will the ghost of Christmas past ruin everything?

Pairing: non idol!San × reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

Trope: strangers to lovers

Word count: 15,207 (yikes)

Warnings: mentions of death of a parent, mentions of cheating (not San or reader), mentions of depression and antidepressants, reader's mother is in poor health. Smut warnings under the cut.

A/n: this is the longest fic I have ever written and I genuinely had fun writing it. I'm so proud of this. Thank you to @kwanisms for making the banner as always

@anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @millennial-fangirl @kpop-stories-21 @twisted-tales-of-all @skyechild @staytinyville

Smut warnings: Switch!San, switch!reader, oral sex (m&f receiving), fingering, marking, protected sex, they just soft for each other.

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You step off of the bus, leaves crunching under you feet as you look around, noticing that the town looks pretty much the same as the day you left. Some of the buildings are more run down than they used to be, the roads are a little less maintained, but it’s nothing major.

You sigh and readjust the bag on your shoulder, tightening your grip on the suitcase beside you. Your thoughts drift, reminding yourself to call the moving company to confirm the arrival date of the rest of your things. Your thoughts shift to Joshua and you hear bits of your final conversation, before blinking away the tears starting to form and take your first step.

You had sold your car, knowing you wouldn’t need it in such a small place, your mother can no longer drive so you can use her car if needed. You look at your watch, not having a cell phone since not only was it on Joshua’s plan, but you didn’t want an easy way for him to contact you.

You start walking along the sidewalk, keeping your head down and lost in your thoughts. Your childhood home isn’t that far from the main square and you still know the way like the back of your hand.

A few people stop you and make small talk, surprised that you’re back in town and seeming to be staying for a while. You try to be polite, though avoidant when they ask questions, only telling them that your mother needed you here so you came. Your patience is being tested, but you do your best not to let it show on your face. God, you really don’t want to be here.

After finally getting away from the nosey town people, thinking that no one in this town has anything better to do than worry about other people’s business, you smile as you pass the local diner. You know you’ll be the talk of the town for a while, but the memories of all the time spent in that dingy diner drift through your mind.

Your first date, your first job (well sort of), your last hangout before leaving town. You remind yourself that you really need to stop by and talk to Lou as soon as possible. Out of everyone here, you’ve missed him the most and you know he’ll be happy to see you.

You make it to your mother’s neighborhood, looking around to see what, if anything has changed. Everything looks mostly the same, your mother’s house is in desperate need of paint and good lawn care, though. You notice the house to the right of her mother’s has changed.

There is a swing set in the yard, a small inflatable pool and a tricycle scattered throughout. You guess that the older lady that lived there must have moved. Of course she would have, it has been 12 years since you left. That lady may not even be alive anymore, that thought bringing a ping of hurt to your heart. She was always such a wonderful lady. You shake the sad thought away before stepping up to the front door and pulling your key out and unlocking the door.

You call out to your mother, letting her know that you made it. You hear your mother’s voice sounding out from the kitchen. You kick your shoes off beside the door and walk down the short hall, making a right into the kitchen to see your mother standing at the island in the center of the room, a smile on her face. You greet your mother with a hug and accepts the mug of coffee she hands you.

You look around as the two of you talk about your trip, noticing that there are many repairs that need to be made. Cabinets need to be painted and finished, the counters need to be fixed, and the wallpaper is peeling. You briefly wonder what else needs to be fixed.

You think you noticed the railing along the stairs was tilted. You sigh again, knowing that there’s no way you can leave these things the way they are. You know these things are bothering you, but in her current state you also know that she can’t fix them herself.

Your mother’s questioning about Joshua brings you out of your thoughts, and you force a small smile. “ He’s fine, mom.” You know that your mother can tell that there is something you aren’t saying, but decides not to push the issue right now.

After finishing your coffee, you excuse yourself, telling your mother that you are going to unpack your things and you make your way back down the hallway, making another right to go up the stairs.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you pause, taking a look around the upstairs of the house. Your childhood bedroom is to the left of the stairs There is a door to the right before you get to your room, your mother’s old sewing room. You remember sitting on the bean bag chair on the floor of the room reading while your mother sewed.

The next door on the left is the bathroom, you think about how many days you spent hours in there, trying to make sure you looked your best for school. Your bedroom door is the last door on the right, the room across the hall is an old storage room that you’re sure has many of your childhood toys. Your mother has always been a sentimental hoarder.

Before entering your room, you turn and take a long back down the hallway. There aren’t as many rooms down the right side of the hall. Your parent’s room is the only door on the left, the master bedroom with their own bathroom and there’s a small alcove with a bay window on the right.

Your eyes pause on the door at the end of the hall, your father’s study. You stare at the door for a moment before turning back to face your door. With one more sigh, you open your door, throwing one last look at the door at the end of the hall, and head into your room, closing the door softly behind you.

You let your eyes drift around the room. The desk that you used for homework is set up against the back wall and you quickly take your laptop from your bag, setting it on the desk and plugging the charger into the wall.

You had found a job as a remote legal assistant, mostly fielding emails to the correct parties, getting video calls of meetings that you needed to type the minutes for. You were very thankful that your former boss had put you in contact with someone that had the position available. Without being able to stop them, your thoughts drift to your old life.

You had left your hometown not long after graduating, knowing that the small town life wasn’t for you. You had quickly found a job as a receptionist for a law firm, and you were damn good at your job. And you loved your job. You regret that you didn’t visit more, really only making the two hour drive back home for the holidays. You had still talked to your mother every day, but you knew that she would have loved to see you more.

After being with the firm for a year, a new partner was welcomed into the work family. Joshua had immediately caught your attention. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was soft spoken and polite. A true gentleman. He had a wonderful sense of humor. He was just amazing.

For two years, your life had been everything you had wanted. Until the death of your father. His death hit you hard. You essentially shut down for a while, you can admit to that. You know that Joshua tried to bring you out of your grief, but you hadn’t let him in.

Though you could realize that those things happened, that didn’t excuse Joshua’s actions. It didn’t excuse you walking into Joshua’s office on day to find him fucking his assistant. No, there was no excuse for that. You had come to tell him that you would need to come back home for a while, your mother wasn’t doing well and you needed to get her settled. Now, your visit has become a permanent residence.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts and focus your attention back on your room.

Your bookcase sits left of the door, mostly empty. Your face falls into frown. You didn’t read much when you were a teen, too busy with parties and friends. You had picked up on the hobby after you had moved. The thought that the bookcase would be full once the rest of your things arrive lifted your spirits a bit.

Reading had become one of your most treasured hobbies. When you had a bad day, you could lose yourself in a fictional world. The thought that you didn’t know if you could take away the worries and doubts you have currently makes your heart sink a little bit, but you swallow the sadness down, determined not to let yourself breakdown again. You had done her crying the night she left and you promised yourself that that was the last time you would cry over Joshua.

You look around your room again, smiling at how it looks exactly like you left it. Your queen size bed still has the zebra print bedspread you had gotten when you were 16 and you cringe a little. “The first thing I’m buying is a new bedspread and sheets.” Your voice is a whisper despite being the only one in the room.

Your slight grimace fades into a smile when you see the handmade quilt your aunt had given you as a Christmas present folded and placed at the foot of your bed. You take a step forward and rub your fingers along the fabric, her eyes watering a little at the memory of your aunt giving it to her. You really need to call her and see how she’s doing. You huff a small laugh, remembering that even in this day and age, both your mother and aunt still have wall phones, thinking that they really are sisters.

After taking a shower and changing into a tank top and sweats, you make your way back downstairs to check on your mother and help her make dinner. You pop your head into the kitchen, clearing your throat to let your mother aware of your presence. “Need any help?” Your mom smiles and nods. “I would love some.”

The two of you make small talk as you bumble around the kitchen, cutting vegetables and preparing everything your need. You turn to face your mother, only to notice that she is winding, but trying to hide it. “Mom, sit down. I can handle the rest of this.” She opens her mouth to argue, but you throw a stern glare at her and she sighs and sits at the table, a slight pout on her face. What an adorable woman.

The food is ready in no time, and you make a plate for each of you.

“Wanna eat in the living room? Maybe we can watch The Thornbirds?” Your mother quickly agrees, glad to be spending time with you and watching something you both love.

You eat quietly, paying attention to the movie like you haven’t seen it a million times. When you’ve finished your food, you set your plate on the coffee table, fully intending to wash it once the movie is over. It hits you just how much you have missed spending time with your mom like this. You pull your feet onto the couch and throw a blanket over yourself as you lay your head in your mother’s lap, simply enjoying how much better it makes you feel.

“Y/N. Wake up, sweet girl,” your mother’s voice wakes you up.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep but you guess that the comfort of snuggle up to your mother must have lulled you into slumber. You stand slowly, stretching with a grunt. Your mom stands as well, much more slowly than you had.

“Mom, is it your feet?”

She nods and tells you that it’s fine, but you make sure to help her up. You wrap your arm around hers, helping her up the stairs. “I can do this on my own, you know?” Her voice has a bit of her trademark attitude and you have to bite back a laugh. “I’m sure you can, but you’re not.” That makes her fake angry front break and she giggles.

Once you make it to your mother’s door, you let go of her arm. “I’m glad to have you home. I love you,” she ends with a kiss to your forehead and you tell her that you love her too before turning to return to your bedroom. You hope that your bed is as comfortable as it used to be as you climb in, getting comfortable. Sleep comes quickly, though your dreams are filled with arguments and tears.

You wake up later than you had planned the next day, though you don’t feel guilty about it. Your new job doesn’t start until next month so you don't necessarily have to be up early.

You hear your mother moving around downstairs and you make a stop by the bathroom to potty and brush your teeth before heading downstairs. You can’t help but stop at the top of the stairs, your eyes stopping on the door at the end of the hall. The thought of walking into the study crosses your mind, but you quickly dismiss it, knowing that you aren’t ready for that.

You peek in each room looking for your mother, eventually finding her on the back porch, a cup of coffee in her hand as she sits on the porch swing. She flashes you a smile and wishes you a good morning. “Though it’s almost afternoon. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen,” she laughs at her own little joke.

“Morning Ma,” you greet her. “I’m so glad you made coffee. I’m not used to that bed anymore so I tossed and turned all night.” She hums in acknowledgement and you turn, moving forward to the kitchen to get your coffee.

While in the kitchen, your attention is brought back to the state of disarray of your mother’s home. You make the decision that today you'll go into the main square and get yourself a new bedspread and some basic necessities. Tomorrow you can go to the hardware store and look into what you’ll need to fix the kitchen up.

You make your coffee, and return to the porch and talk to your mother about your plans for the day, asking if her mother needs anything.

“All I can think of is that my medicine should be ready at the pharmacy. Do you mind picking it up for me?”

You agree and the conversation turns to what happened to the older lady that lived next door. “Oh. Her son had to put her in a home after she fell. I heard she passed after about a year.” Although this was what you expected, knowing that this is what happened still hurts.

“There have been a few people in and out of the house since then. Right now, there’s a young man around your age and his son. I don’t know much about him, but he seems like a nice boy.” Maybe more changed around here than you thought.

You take your time enjoying your coffee and chatting with your mom, getting a shower afterwards and getting ready to run your errands. The hot water feels amazing on your skin and once again you take your time. You’re used to being in a rush when you get ready and it’s nice to just be.

Looking through your clothes, you choose a pair of black skinny jeans and a band tee. You complete the outfit with your black combat boots, the ones that have little metal hearts on the side. A lot of things have changed since you left town, but you still sure hasn’t.

When you decide that you’re ready go, you stop by the back porch to tell you mother that you’re heading out and telling her that you’ll see her later.

The late fall air feels crisp and you take a deep breath, simply enjoying it. The fresh air is definitely something you’ve missed about being home. The city is great in many ways, but the air quality certainly isn’t one of them. It’s also nice to step outside and not hear sirens and horns everywhere immediately.

There’s something peaceful about being able to feel the breeze and just walking in silence.

As you step off the front porch, you find yourself walking to your mother’s car out of habit. You had already decided to walk, though you have second thoughts when you remember that you’ll be carrying a bed set home.

You stand firm in your decision to walk, thinking that the walk could be the replacement for a gym trip that you totally would have gone on in the city. (That’s a lie. You hate the gym, but it sounds better in your head.)

As the slight breeze hits your back, you think about grabbing a jacket. If your back gets cold, you’re fucked, but you take the risk instead of trudging back inside. Plus, you remind yourself, the weather here is finicky and it could suddenly warm up and you could be sweating.

As you walk to the square, you feel as if you’re repeating the day before. Multiple people stop you, they obviously haven’t heard the gossip from the people that stopped you yesterday. Or they just want to see if they can get something else out of you, which is entirely possible.

As you make it to the center of town, the sidewalk traffic slows down and you breathe out a sigh of relief. You notice that the hardware store has barely changed, only the name is new. You glance through the window, the inside still looks exactly the same. There’s a little boy grinning and talking to anyone he see. The boy is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. His little afro bouncing a little as he runs around.

Smiling softly at the image in front of you, you turn your head back to the sidewalk as you press on. Just past the hardware store is the pharmacy. It looks as if it hasn’t changed a bit and you are certain that an older version of the pharmacist sits inside behind the counter. You make a mental note, reminding yourself to stop and get your mom’s medication on your way back home. The thought of carrying medication around the home goods store makes you uncomfortable, so you feel resolute in your choice.

You lower your head as you pass the diner, not ready to be stopped yet. You still need to stop in and see Lou, but you think that you’ll do that tomorrow. The home goods store is a couple buildings down from the diner. It still baffles you that this town has such a large store, though it wouldn’t be considered large by most people’s standards, and you’re kind of shocked it has lasted as long as it has.

The bell dings as you open the door and you cringe slightly, hoping no one notices that it’s you who walked through the door. You walk down the main aisle, looking at the signs on the edges of side aisles trying to find the bedding aisle. Honestly, you don’t have high hopes about the selection they’ll have, but you guess anything is better than the zebra print monstrosity that is on your bed currently. You finally find the bedding aisle and you are pleasantly surprised to see both sides of the aisle are full of options. You look over the choices in front of you, realizing that you were correct. Most of the options are different brands of the same plain sets. When you resign yourself to having to get a plain white set, you find something that perfectly suits your taste. It’s black in color and has a large sun with smaller stars and moons floating around randomly on the rest of the comforter. You discretely jump in happiness when you see that they have one queen sized set left and you quickly snatch it up and make your way to the register, remembering half way there to grab some new body wash and basic necessities. Luckily, the store is fairly empty and you don’t recognize the young girl at the counter, so you feel relief at someone probably not knowing you. You’re very glad to know that your assumption was correct, the girl barely pays attention to you and you’re able to quickly pay and leave.

As you carry the bedding, you groan internally, annoyed at yourself for not stopping at the pharmacy before you went to the home goods store. The bedding is slipping from your hand and the angle is awkward. This is not one of your best decisions.

'Mistakes have been made. '

Readjusting you grip on the bedding, you pick up you pace, doing your best to make it to the pharmacy as quickly as possible. As you turn towards the door of the pharmacy, you let out a groan when you realize that you going to have a time getting this open with your hands full.

Resigning yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to put the bedding down to open the door, you’re surprised when a hand and a soft “Let me,” comes from your right. You turn your head and you have to hold in your gasp gasp.

An absolutely beautiful man is smiling a bright smile, briefly reminding you of the boy you saw earlier through the window of the hardware store. His black hair is pushed back off of his forehead and you have the thought that you want to run your hands through it.

His shoulders are broad, but his waist is tiny. He’s gorgeous.

He pulls the door open, gesturing with left hand in an “after you” motion. You smile, slightly shyly which is very unlike you, and thank him. He holds the door open for you before he steps inside him self. “You’re welcome,” he replies. “Just couldn’t stand to see a pretty lady struggling,” he adds, giving you a smile and a nod, turning while you continue straight toward the counter.

A friendly older man smiles as he asks you what he can help you with. You were right when you guessed it was the same man that worked here before you left. People tend to stick to the same thing forever in small towns.

You give him your mother’s name and tell him that you are her daughter and are here to pick up her medication. He gives you a nod and steps away to locate the medication. You quickly set the bedding down, giving your arm a stretch so it doesn’t get stiff.

The pharmacist comes back with the medication for your mother and gives you the total of the purchase. You pays pausing to ask him a few questions about the medication before you grab your things and head toward the door. You notice the man from earlier standing in front of the vitamins, looking a little confused.

You step forward, voice not too loud to scare the man. “You need any help there?” He startles a little and you chuckle a little and apologize, telling him that he just looked like he was confused. He laughs shyly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I-uh, came to get my son’s vitamins, but they’re out of the ones I usually buy. I’m trying to find a suitable substitute.”

You give him a firm nod turning to look at the options. You asks him what kind he normally gets and he tells you the brand. You scan the shelf, unaware of the eyes on the side of your face, before making a small “aha” and setting your bedding down again and reaching out to grab a bottle.

“These are just as beneficial as the ones you normally get, but they’re cheaper. Plus, they’re gummies so he’ll probably like them more,” you explain as you hand him the bottle. He smiles widely at you and you can feel your breath catching again as he thanks you.

“No need for thanks. Just returning the favor.” He gives you another big smile and follows you to the door, opening it again so you can step outside. You thank him and tell him to have a good day as he turns back around to pay.

The rest of your trip home is without incident, much to your relief. You walk through your mother’s door and call out. “Mom! I’m back!” You take your things upstairs to drop your things off in your room. You go back downstairs to find your mother. She asks about you day and you decide to bring up her medication as you hand it to her.

“Momma, why didn’t you tell me things were so bad. Mr. Jones told me a bit about these medications. Antidepressants, medicine for chronic sinus issues and face pain, and pain medication for your feet.” You watch her face as she processes what you’ve said, not pushing her to answer you immediately. You want her to be able to take her time.

After a moment or two, she speaks. “I’ve been handling things the best I could. You had your own life and I didn’t want to worry you more than necessary.” Your eyes begin to water and you hug her, apologizing for not being around more.

“Oh dear, I’m not upset with you for growing up and going on your own path. But I sure am glad to have you home.” The two of you stand in each others arms for a bit longer.

You think it’s finally time to break the news to her mother that you and Joshua are no longer together and the reasoning behind your breakup.” Mom, Josh and I aren’t together anymore. I found him with another woman a week or so before I came back.”

She tilts her head and pulls you back into her arms, asking if you’re ok. You softly tell her mother that you’re ok, still hurt, but ok. You mother suggests that the two of you cook together and watch another movie and you smile and agree.

After eating and watching the movie, you had decided to watch Ma and Pa Kettle, an old favorite of yours, you help your mother to bed and change your bedding. You take a look at what feels like a brand new bed, beyond pleased to have the god awful zebra atrocity gone from sight.

You check your email before bed, noticing an email from Joshua. You delete it without even reading it, not even thinking twice about it. You order yourself a new phone, already tired of not having one and climb into bed.

You wake up earlier than you did the day before and go through the routine of brushing your teeth, showering, and having breakfast and coffee with you mom. You definitely picked up your coffee addiction from her.

“Just a reminder that I’m going to the hardware store today. Gotta get started on fixing this kitchen.” She nods telling you to take the car today, and you agree with a laugh, telling her that you had already planned on it. “Are you dead set on these white cabinets?” Your mom smiles softly.

“The kitchen is your project, my baby. You do whatever you want with it. The house will be yours eventually, might as well have it the way you like it.” You smile despite the painful thought that one day your mother won’t be here. “Besides, you did always talk about designing the perfect kitchen.”

You give her a wide smile, glad she remembers how much you always talked about designing the kitchen in your future home. You tells her that you will see her later as you grab the keys to the car and steps outside.

You hear laughter from the lawn of the house next door and turn to see a little boy running to the car in the driveway, and a man hunched down chasing him, wiggling his fingers like he’s going to tickle the boy. The sight warms your heart and you briefly think that they look familiar. You smile to yourself and makes your way to the car.

You park the car in the small lot in front of the hardware store, sitting for a moment before getting out and stepping to the door of the building. Pulling on the handle, you find that the door won’t open. You check the hours on the front of the glass, it says that the store should be open by now. You heave a sigh, something that has become quite common lately, and turn to head back to the car.

“Are you trying to get into the hardware store?” A voice comes from behind you. You turn to find the man from the pharmacy the day before, a set of keys in one hand and the hand of a small boy in the other. You give him a smile and nod, waving at the boy. You bend down a little.

“Well, hello there.” The boy smiles and waves back. “I’m so sorry. Normally, I’d have opened up by now, but a certain little boy didn’t want to get out of bed this morning.” As he finishes his sentence, his eyes flicker down to the boy, who is still wearing his bright smile.

You laugh and tells him that you understand and there are still some days where you don’t want to get out of bed. The man laughs his beautiful laugh again and opens the door, making the same motion with his hand as he did the day before.

Once you get into the store, the man snaps and makes an oh sound. You jump a little and look at him with a confused look. “This is the second time we’ve met and I still haven’t introduced myself. I’m San and this is my store.” He’s wearing a small smirk as he speaks.

You give him your name back, trying not to let your tummy flutter when he says that it is a pretty name. You squat down to the boy, making sure you’re face to face. “And what is your name, cutie?”

He gives you a big smile. “I’m Mason Choi and I’m four.” He holds up four fingers as he speaks. “My address is--”

“Ok, buddy, you don’t have to tell her all of that,” San interrupts with a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. You stand back up to full height, asking San where you can find the paint, and he points you in the right direction before you both go your separate ways.

You browse the paint aisle, taking your time looking through the colors. You aren’t sure you’ll be able to pick one for certain, but you know she’ll be taking home some swatches. You spend a few minutes thinking about the overall theme you want for the kitchen, trying to think about what would go best with what you have in mind. you gets a memory of what she wanted to do as a child, softly smiling at where your thoughts have drifted.

“You must really like that color.”

A voice comes from you left, a laugh following. You turn to find San there, giving you a smirk. You laugh softly and tell him that you were just thinking about a childhood memory. “When I was little, I wanted to design my mom’s kitchen. When she asked me what I wanted to do with it, I had a solid plan. Bubblegum colored walls, with white paint dripping down and splats of bright colors randomly placed around. I wanted the walls to look like ice cream.”

He gives a big laugh and you feel your insides churn again, internally cursing yourself. “What even brought that to mind?”

You tell him that you’re here to pick out paint, but you needed to think of a theme first.. He nods his head as if telling her to continue. You tell him that you current pet project is to redo the kitchen and that it’s in desperate need of a remodel.

“Do you plan to paint first?” His question isn’t judging, merely asking as if he’s trying to help. You think for a moment before shaking your head. “I should probably replace the cabinets and counters first, a slight blush coming to the surface of your cheeks.

You should have thought of that. And why are you blushing? You don’t blush. What is going on?

“In that case, you’re probably going to want to look into what kind of style you want the cabinets you want. There’s many different styles. Same goes for the counters. So many different patterns for counter tops.”

He pauses for a moment, allowing you nod to let him know that you are paying attention. Honestly, you don’t think you could pull your attention away from him.

“Now, I don’t have pre built cabinets here, but I’m sure I could track down a catalog somewhere that you can look through.” You give him a shake of your head, telling him that he doesn’t have to go through that much trouble, you could just do a search online. He gives you a sideways smile, telling you that he’s going to do it anyway. The smile is so fucking adorable that it has you smiling with him.

“So, are you going to be doing this yourself or is your dad or boyfriend helping?” The mention of both your dad and a boyfriend makes your smile fall and your body stiffen a little.

“No, it’ll just be me.” He gives you a shallow nod, his smile falling slightly too. He quickly recovers, though, keeping his cheerful mood. “If you need any help, please just ask. I don’t mind helping at all.” You smile and tell him that you will definitely keep that in mind.

Mason runs up to San, telling him that someone has come into the store asking for him. San bends down and thanks his son with a kiss on the cheek and stands to take his hand. “If you need help with anything, just let me know.” You tell that you will and he gives you a wink as he heads to the front of the store.

You look at paint swatches for a while longer, lost in thought. Your stomach eventually begins to rumble and you make the decision to finally brave the diner. You make you way back to the door, throwing San and Mason a smile and a wave before leaving.

You walk to the diner, stopping to take a deep breath before making you way in front of the windows and to the door.

Pulling the door open, you’re hit with the smell of greasy burgers and fries and you sigh, suddenly overcome with a homey feeling. The diner holds many memories, both good and bad, and you figure it’s time to face them head on.

You slide into the booth in the back, it was always your favorite. You glances down, seeing the menu on the table, knowing that you don’t even have to look at it to know what you want.

A middle aged woman comes up to you and asks if you’re ready and you nod. You go with your favorite, a bacon cheese burger with extra pickles and a tea. Lou makes the best burgers. Before the waitress can leave, you ask her to tell Lou that it’s Y/N. The lady gives you a confused look before nodding and walking off to the kitchen.

You can hear the waitress yell Lou’s name before her voice lowers. You smirk slightly, counting down in you head. Only a second later, a tall man with a big belly comes barreling out of the kitchen area, throwing his apron on the counter.

You stand up from the booth, waiting beside it as the man makes his way to you. Lou greets you with a hug, telling you that he’s missed his best waitress. You laugh at his antics.

“Lou, I never actually worked for you.”

He brushes you off with a wave of his hand and asks how you’ve been. You tell him that you’ve been better, but you’ve also been worse. He gives you a sigh and a nod.

“You’ve always been so quiet about how you actually feel. Come on and tell Big Lou what’s going on.” You sit down, motioning for him to sit across from you. He holds his finger up in a hold on signal and walks back to the kitchen. You smile as he walks away, thinking back on your time knowing the gentle giant.

Lou has owned the diner for as long as you can remember, though you knows that it can’t be as long as it feels since the man is in his late 40s. He’s a man that looks gruff and unfriendly, but once you really get to know him, he’s a great person to have in your life.

Lou has always been your group of friends’ confidant in a sense, always listening, never talking unless asked. With you in particular, he always dragged what was wrong out of you. When you first boyfriend broke up with you, you went to the diner, obviously upset but refusing to talk about it. Lou told you that if you were going to sit and mope, could you at least take an order to a customer since he was short staffed.

You remember that you had looked at him like he was a crazy man and he just gave you a toothy grin. That had made you smile as well and you grabbed the plate and took it to the customer. That had started the tradition of you coming to the diner when you were sad and Lou giving you things to do to take your mind off of it. He always paid you out of the money out of the register, even though you told him that he didn’t have to. You always ended up telling him what was wrong and he always gave the best advice. It was an unusual friendship, but one you greatly treasured.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by Lou sliding into the booth, your burger on a plate in one hand and a plate full of cheese fries in the other. “Lou, I didn’t order cheese fries,” your voice is teasing. He just tells you to hush and eat you food. You laugh a big laugh and start to dig in.

“Alright Peanut, spill the beans.”

You take a breath and repeat the story of your relationship with Joshua. You vent about your mother’s health and how you’re worried about her. You talk about the kitchen remodel. For the first time since your father’s death, you talk about it and how you handled it when it happened and how you’re handling it now. You mention your thoughts of going into his study, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

By the time you’ve finished spilling your guts to Lou, you’ve finished your burger and are starting to work on the fries. You flick your eyes up to Lou’s face, trying to gauge his reaction to the spew of information you’ve given him. His eyebrows are furrowed, obviously deep in thought. You stare at him for a moment, waiting patiently. He takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He looks at you with a serious expression before opening his mouth.

“So, you looking for a job?”

The question makes you burst out laughing, the first whole hearted laugh you’ve had since finding out Joshua was cheating on you, probably since you lost your father. You laugh until your stomach hurts and you have tears gathering in her eyes. Lou reaches across the table to pat you on the hand.

“You’re a strong woman and you’re gonna get through all of this and come out stronger on the other side. Now, what is this boy’s name and where does he live. It’s for science.”

You give his hand a slight slap and tell him to get back to work. He stands and gives you another hug and you move to go pay for you food. Lou moves in front of the register, shaking his head and pointing to the door. You giggle and shake your head, knowing this is a fight you won’t win and leave. As you reach the door, you hear Lou call your name. You turn back to face him, an eyebrow raised.

“Go into the room, Peanut.”

Deciding to head back home, it’s been hours since you left that morning and it’s well after lunch time, you make you way back to the hardware store to grab your mother’s car, noticing San’s car is gone.

You wonder if he is only open a few hours a day, but quickly dismiss the thought, deciding that it’s none of your business and continue on your way back home.

Turning into the driveway, you hear laughing from next door again, thinking that you’re glad your new neighbors are so cheerful. You hear a small voice calling your name and you turn to see Mason smiling wide and frantically waving.

You says his name with as much enthusiasm as he had said yours and start waving just as frantically. San stands in the background smiling at the two of you just standing in the middle of your yards just waving like crazy people. He steps forward with a “howdy neighbor” and you laugh and say hello.

San gives you a wink, saying that it looks like you’ll will be seeing each other a lot and you laugh and agree. Mason cuts in and asks if he and San can go have their lunch now, and San agrees, picking him up and saying goodbye to you before heading inside. You watch as they walk through their door, thinking that this man and his flirtatious nature are going to be problem.

Not entirely an unwelcome problem, but a problem regardless.

You step through you own door, calling out to your mother. You hear her voice coming from the back porch and you slip your shoes off and walk toward the back of the house. Your mother asks how your day has been, and you tell her about your time at the hardware store and lunch with Lou. She gives you a smile, telling you that she’s glad that you met with Lou, and saying that he always asks about you.

“I met the new neighbor, he also owns the hardware store.”

Your mother huffs out a laugh. “Yes, I know, dear. It is a small town after all.” You roll her eyes with a laugh. You mention San telling you that he would see if he could find a catalog with cabinets for you to look at, and your mother hums and nods, asking if you have figured out what you want to do with the kitchen. You shake your head. “San brought that up too, but I need to think about it for a bit. I’m gonna go look at the kitchen and see if something comes to me.”

You walk into the kitchen, glancing around while in thought. You do your best to envision what you want the kitchen to look like. After standing around just looking at the cabinets, it hits you. You look around, picturing what you want. You wanted dark gray cabinets with silver handles.

As you look around, the thought of making a little nook comes to your mind. Cabinets and drawers on the bottom, a counter, the area is boxed in, like a little alcove. On the very top, you envision putting potted plants. Your vision is sort of a forest-y vibe.

Smiling to yourself, you turn around and makes you way back to your mother. Before you leave the room, you make yourself a cup of coffee.

When you get back to your mother, you tell her about your idea for the kitchen and she gives you a smile and tells you that she loves it. You notice your mother getting tired and you offer her your arm and tell her she should take a nap.

She immediately disagrees, but you insist and tell her that you will make dinner and wake her up when it’s ready. Huffing, your mother relents and grabs your arm and pulls herself up. You helps her to her room and tell her to have a good nap and leave her room.

You stand outside of the door, looking at the door to your father’s study. Lou’s words float through your mind and you take a hesitant step forward. You step until you have your hand on the knob, but you quickly let go and turn around and head to your room to grab your laptop before going back downstairs.

Feeling like it’s a bit early to start on dinner, also knowing that your mother needs a nice nap, you grab yourself another cup of coffee, deciding to sit on the front porch this time. You tell yourself that it definitely isn’t with the hopes of seeing San, you just want a change.

You grab one of the wicker bucket chairs on the front porch, sitting in it with your laptop on your lap and your coffee on the small table to your left.

Opening your email, you find two more emails from Joshua. Taking a deep breath, you open the first one. You know that this is the first step in healing and moving on. The email is exactly what you expected it to be. Josh says he’s sorry and that he does love you and he wishes you would email him back.

You close out of the email, still feeling hurt, but not as bad as you had expected. Before you can open the second email, a voice calls out to you making you look up to see San.

“You’re drinking coffee this late in the afternoon?” he asks. You let a little giggle follow. “It’s never too late for coffee.” You have a teasing glint in your eye as you respond. “I think that I have to respectfully disagree.”

The two of you talk for a while, before you remember your vision for the kitchen. You tell San that you have an idea and he tilts his head and motions for you to continue.

You tell him about how you wants everything to look and he nods as you talks. After you finish, he tells you that it sounds like a really neat idea and he will look around for that catalog. You thank him and ask where Mason is. He tells you that he’s down for a nap.

“I know it’s a bit late for a nap, but I never let him sleep too long or he’ll be up all night.” You laugh and tell that him you couldn’t even imagine what it’s like to deal with a toddler that’s wide awake at three am and San laughs with you. You bite you lip and ask if his mother is watching him while he’s down. San stiffens a little, shakes his head. “No. It’s just me and Mason.” You remember you mother mentioning that he was a single father so you aren’t sure why you even asked.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. That was none of my business.” San assures you that it’s fine and that he and Mason are doing well on their own.

“It looks like it. From what little I’ve seen, you seem like a great dad.” He blushes a little and thanks you. You giggle at his sudden shyness and tell him that it’s not a problem. He checks the time on his phone.

“I better wake the little guy up.” You nod and he gives you a smile and turns to head back to his yard. You stop his movement with a call of his name and he turns to face you.

“Would you two want to join my mom and I for dinner? Think of it as a belated welcome to the neighborhood celebration.” San gives you a large smile. “I’ll ask Mason, though I’m positive he will agree. It would seem that he has already taken a liking to you.”

You giggle and tell him that you’ve taken a liking to Mason too. “If you guys decided to come, just knock on the door. It should be ready in a couple of hours.” He nods back at you and you end the conversation by telling him that you’ll make sure there’s more than coffee to drink and you open the door and step inside, San’s beautiful laughter ringing out behind you. You gently wake your mother, telling her that you have invited San and his son for dinner.

By the time dinner is ready and you take a shower, there’s a knock at the door. Since you’re already right by the door, you open it to find San and Mason smiling at you. Your eyes wander over San. 'Damn he looks good.' He's dressed casually in some jeans and a black tee while Mason is wearing sweatpants and a dinosaur shirt.

You squat down to the child's level. “Wow,” you say looking at the dinosaur on his shirt. “I love your shirt!” Mason smiles up at his dad before looking back at you. “What's your favoritest dinosaur?” you ask.

“Raptor!” he enthusiastically answers, even going as far to try to make a raptor noise. You give him a laugh. “Well, my favorite dinosaur is a Spinosaurus, but I don’t even know what they sound like!” you said, sounding impressed. “You sound like you know more about dinosaurs that I do.” Mason nods.

“I’m a dinosaur expert!”

His enthusiasm warms your heart and you stand, inviting them to come inside.

You show them the way to the kitchen. “Ma, this is San,” you say, formally introducing them. San smiles, stepping forward to shake her hand. “It's nice to officially meet you,” he says as Mason steps forward to proudly introduce himself before you could.

“And I'm Mason!”

Your mother smiles at him. “That's a lovely name, Mason. It's nice to meet you.” Mason thanks her with a smile which she returns before offering San two plates and asks him what they would like to drink.

“Just water is fine.” He makes Mason’s plate and gets him set up at the table before making his own. “Mom go ahead and sit down,” you say as you make her plate and place it front of her before you make your own.

You take the seat next to your mother, San is sitting to your other side. You all chat idly, talking about nothing in particular. San brings up the kitchen remodels and you perk up and start pointing and showing San where you wants the little alcove to go, not noticing your mother watching on fondly.

San listens before offering once again to help you, telling you that he can even draw up your idea for you to see before you starts on it. You give him a nod as your mother asks if he’s an artist and he laughs while shaking his head.

“No ma’am. Before having Mason I was in school studying to be an architect.” Your mother tells him that that is a good field. “If Y/N won’t accept your offer to help, I certainly will. If I left everything to her, this kitchen would be torn apart for months.”

Your cheeks burn, again with the blushing, telling you mother to hush with a slight slap to her shoulder. You all finish dinner, San offering to help clean up but you tell him absolutely not and that he should get Mason home since he’s falling asleep on your mother’s shoulder.

“You have a good point there,” he says while looking fondly at his son.

“I'll walk you out,” you announce before walking them to the door, San holding Mason. “Have a good night,” you say softly as San crossed the threshold. "You, too,” he says just as quietly.

“And thank you for dinner.”

“I'll have that drawing for your kitchen done soon,” he adds with a smile. You thank him and watch as they walk next door.

A few days later, you wake to your mother knocking on you door. You tell her to come in, rolling on to your side to face the door. Your mother smiles before coming to sit on the edge of your bed, running a hand through your hair. You hum in content, asking her mother what’s up.

“The rest of your things are here. The van is waiting outside. You also got a package this morning. I sat it on the table by the couch,” she says fondly as she smiles down at you.

She leaves and you quickly get dressed and brush your teeth, not wanting to keep the moving van waiting any longer. You step out of the door, greeting the man waiting by the van. He greets you back, opening the back of the van revealing a few boxes. You thank him and you start to help him unload the van.

“You need any help?”

You turn to see San standing not too far away, arms crossed as he leans on Mason’s swing set. “Yes please!”

Once all of the boxes are out of the van, you pay the driver his tip and the man leaves. San lifts a box and asks you where to take it. You momentarily get lost in admiring the way his arms flex as he grips the box before shaking you head and giving him directions to your bedroom. You take a box and follow him.

“You can just set it on the floor at the end of the bed,” you instruct and he does as you ask before you both move to get more boxes.

Once all of the boxes have been put in you room, you offer him some water and he accepts. As you makes her way to the kitchen, he tells you that he will be right back. You watch as he walks out the front door, not being able to stop yourself for look at his ass as he walks away and continue into the kitchen to get his glass of water ready.

San returns soon with a baby monitor and a piece of paper in his hands. “Mason is asleep and I should still be in range to hear him if he wakes up.” He lifts the monitor as he speaks. He hands you the piece of paper and you take it, looking a little confused.

Looking at it, it’s the design of the kitchen. You're happy that it looks exactly like what you pictured. You smile at him. “San it’s perfect! You’re really talented!” The tips of his ears turn slightly red, causing you to giggle softly.

You suddenly remember the package you mother told you about and perk up, telling San that you’ll be right back as you go to get it. You bring it back into the kitchen, setting it on the table and telling San he can sit if he wants. He joins you at the table, making sure to set his glass on a coaster.

You grab a knife and open the package carefully. Once you gets it open, you pull out her new phone. You sigh in relief, going as far as to kiss the box. San laughs from across from you.

“I haven’t had a phone for a while and I’m so glad to have one again.” He asks if you broke your or something, and you go quiet for a moment. “No, I didn’t break it. I left it with my ex boyfriend when I left him.”

“I'm so sorry,” San immediately apologizes. “I didn't mean to pry.”

You brush his apology off, telling him that it’s ok and that it’s been a little rough, but you’ll be ok.

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?” he asks and you nod.

“Joshua and I were together for two years when my dad died. I didn’t handle his death well and closed myself off,” you start to explain, San listening patiently. “And then when my mother’s health got worse, I went to his office to tell him that I would be coming back home for a little while to help get her situated,” you continue, hesitating as you reach the catalyst for your leaving.

“I found him and his assistant... together,” you continue, not noticing the way San's expression shifted. “Apparently, Josh couldn’t handle me being so down and unavailable so he found someone who was,” the last part comes out a little bitterly but you are beyond caring.

You had been fiddling with your phone the entire time you talk, trying to get it up and running. After you finish talking, you look up to see San’s jaw clenched and a serious look on his face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. You don’t deserve that shit. You deserve a hell of a lot better than that.” You tell him that it’s ok and thank him, ending in a small cheer when you get your phone ready to go.

You sit in silence for a moment before you look up at San.

“Could I ask you something?” San looks up at you and nods.

“Where's Mason’s mom?”

You notice how San stiffens a little but he relaxes. “So, I moved from Korea to study abroad. I told you already, but I was majoring in architecture and I was very excited to start my new life here,” he starts to explain.

“I met Anora in one of my classes and we really hit it off and started dating. After a year and a half, we found out she was pregnant.” You could hear it in his voice, the way he spoke about his son with such adoration.

“I was thrilled, but Anora was far from happy. Even though she really didn’t want to have Mason, but she stayed.” You can hear the sadness in his voice. “She decided after four years that being a mother wasn’t the life she wanted and she left right before his fourth birthday, almost a year ago.”

You felt your heart break for them. San sighs and continues. “I just felt like we needed a new start so I bought the store and the house and here we are,” he finishes his story to your stunned silence.

You stay silent for a moment before apologizing. “So, how is Mason handling all of this?” Your voice is soft and a little hesitant. San makes a face before answering. “He’s handling it well. Even when Anora was around, it was still pretty much the two of us. I stayed with her, hoping I could get her to fully accept Mason, but that was useless.”

You apologize again and San tells you that it’s ok. “Honestly, I feel like we're better off.” You nod in agreement. “I think can agree with that. I said it before, but you’re doing an amazing job at being a dad. Mason is a very lucky kid.” San smiles, looking down at his hands resting on the table. “Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciates that.”

“You're welcome,” you reply and without thinking, you reach across the table to give his hand a squeeze. There’s a beat of silence before you take your hand back and San clears his throat and nods his head toward your phone.

“So, do I get to be the first person to get your new number?” You laugh and nod, taking his phone to type your number into his phone. After you exchange numbers, San pockets his device and looks up.

“I should probably get back to Mason, even though I haven’t heard a peep from the baby monitor.” You walk him to the door, thanking him for helping with the boxes.

“Really,” he starts. “It's no trouble. We're neighbors after all. And isn't that are neighbors for?” he adds with a wink.

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Over the next month or so, San helps you get what's needed for the remodel, at a discount even though yourefused, and on weekends thetwo of get to work in the kitchen while Mason plays around with your mother. Mason's presence in your lives seems to brighten her mother's days and you have become very fond of the boy yourself.

San is a complicated story. You’re also very fond of him, perhaps too fond you think sometimes, and he seems to be equally fond of you. When you aren't talking in person, you’re texting. You’ve spent every weekend for a month working on the kitchen, often times working close together.

San teaches you the basics, even though you already know them but he doesn't need to know that. He's even taught you about how to get the grooves you want in the wood on the side of the arch way of the alcove. The fact that he stood behind you, chest to you back, to show you flustered you a bit. (But we don’t really need to talk about that. Nope. No need to talk about how you could feel the hard planes of his chest against your back. Not at all.)

By the time the kitchen is finished, it's the middle December with Christmas just around the corner. You stand in the entrance of the kitchen with San, looking around at the space the two of you have created. You’re absolutely in love with it.

“San I love it. Thank you so much!” You wrap your arms around his neck in a hug, surprising him. He just stands there for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around you in return, giving you a squeeze. He slightly buries his face in your neck. “There’s no need to thank me. I really enjoyed doing this with you.” His breath on you neck makes a shiver run down your spine, but you try your best not to let it show.

You separate, slowly, and look at each other for a moment before a squeal interrupts your moment. Mason comes running into the kitchen, crashing into you and hugging your legs. You laugh as you stumble a bit and bend down to give the boy a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

You don’t see the way San's eyes shine as he watches you with his son, happy you’ve clicked so well. Mason directs his attention to San “Daddy did you ask her yet?” . San shakes his head, a slight blush on his cheeks as you quirks an eyebrow up. “So the Christmas festival is next Saturday. Would you like to come with us?” You eagerly nod your head, gaining a smile from San and a giddy squeal from his son.

Your week is filled with emails for work. Joshua still sends you emails, but you rarely open them, more often than not, completely ignoring their existence. Not because you’re still hurt, you’ve moved on, but because you genuinely do not care to know what he has to say.

Though, a particular subject line draws your attention.

An email sent the day before. “See you soon” and you quickly click the email, reading it in a slight panic. Joshua goes on about he misses you and he just wants you to talk to him and that he’ll be coming to see you that upcoming weekend, the same weekend as a date you'd set up with San.

Your first thought is to go to the diner to talk to Lou.

You quickly put your shoes on, opting to drive to get there faster. You pull in to the diner parking, rushing to get inside.

“Lou!” Your voice is louder than you meant for it to be, but you don’t pay any mind to it. You notice how they diners enjoying their food look at you, but at this moment you really don’t care. Lou comes out of the kitchen, looking a little annoyed at someone yelling in the diner. His face changes as soon as he sees you and the panicked look on your face. He quickly discards his apron, yelling into the kitchen that he'll be back soon and ushers you to your booth in the back.

He asks you what's wrong, trying to keep the worry in his voice unnoticeable. “I got an email from Joshua,” you rush to explain. “It said that he was coming here this weekend. Before you even ask, I’m not worried I’m going to go back to him. I’m over that part of my life and I have moved on from him, it's just...” You pause and Lou takes the opportunity to finish for you.

“You really like San and don’t want Joshua to ruin anything before it can really start.” You nod, knowing that coming to Lou was the right choice. “I’m going to the festival with San and Mason on Saturday.” You know that you’re wearing a massive smile, but you have no embarrassment about it. Lou smiles back and you.

“Have you told him about Joshua yet?” His question throw you off a little, even though you should have known he’d ask. “I’ve told him that Joshua is my ex and how things ended between.” Lou nods for a moment.

“And the email?”

You shake your head. “I saw the email and came straight to you.” He smiles widely and you can tell that your confession has made him happy. “Peanut, you’re a smart woman. You know what you need to do.” You nod, knowing that he’s right. He usually is, it’s why you come to him. You thank him with a hug and leave, deciding to walk to the hardware store to talk to San.

The bell dings as you walk in, and Mason yells your name and runs up to you. You smile down at him, picking him up and giving him a kiss on the cheek before asking where his dad is. He wraps one arm around your neck and points with the other, telling you that San is on the paint aisle.

You thank him with another kiss on the cheek as you set him down. You make your way to San, feeling a little nervous as you watch him look through paint swatches. “San.” You try to keep your voice from wavering, but you aren’t sure you succeed.

He turns to face you, his face breaking out in a wide smile. “I was looking at swatches, trying to decide what color would go best with the kitchen.” You can feel yourself smile, despite the anxiety flowing through your body.

“We need to talk,” you start, internally cursing yourself as you see a flash of panic cross San's face. “It's not like that!” you continue quickly. “But it is important.” San nods, searching your face, no doubt noticing how serious you look. “Okay,” he nods slowly as he leads you to his office while he calls out to Mason to tell him to go into the break room and play so he knows where he is.

“You can sit there if you want.” He points to the chair in front of his desk as he moves behind the desk, grabbing the chair there and bringing it to sit beside you, facing you. “What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breathe before speaking, trying to calm your nerves. “I was looking at my email today and when I noticed an email from Joshua.” You can see his jaw tense, but he says nothing, letting you continue. “He’s coming here this weekend.” Your voice drops in volume, almost sounding small.

San is quiet for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, matching the feel of your small voice. “Do you still love him? Are you planning to leave and go back with him?”

You feel sad that the thought even crosses his mind. You obviously haven’t been as clear showing your feelings as you thought you were. “No. I really like you, San and I don’t plan to leave. There was a time in my life when I wanted to escape this town, but I don’t want to do that anymore.”

You can see him visibly relax as he breathes put a sigh of relief and telling you that he feels the same and that you can deal with Joshua’s visit together if you wants or he can let you handle it. You don’t say anything, only thanking him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, telling him that you should head back home.

The closer it gets to Christmas, the stronger the urge to go into your father’s study gets. You talk to San about it as you text and he tells you that it's ok to still need time, but it's also ok to want to go into your father’s favorite place. He once again offers his help, telling you can be there for moral support if you needs and though you don’t tell him, you think that San is a great man and thank him.

Saturday comes quick and even though you’re anxious about Joshua’s arrival, you’re also excited about spending the evening with San and Mason. By dusk, Joshua still hasn't arrived and you hope that maybe he has changed his mind. You gets ready for the festival, deciding to wear jeans and a sweater.

A knock on the door has you almost sprinting down the stairs your thoughts swirling. You feel like a teenager waiting for her prom date. Opening the door to find San and Mason both giving you big smiles, you smile back and give them both hugs, unintentionally hugging San a little harder. “You ready?” San’s voice is light and cheerful and it makes your heart flutter. You give a nod and call out to your mother, letting her know that you’re leaving.

The festival is simple, a few decorations and booths with games and food trucks. Of course Lou has a stand with all of his best dishes and hot cocoa and coffee. The three of you stop by and you give Lou a hug, thanking him again in a whisper. He squeezes you in return, his way of telling you that you don’t need to thank him.

You grab a cup of coffee as San grabs both him and Mason a cup of cocoa each. As you reach into your wallet, preparing to pay, you notice San moving quickly to hand Lou money. Lou scoffs and tells him that there’s no way he’s letting them pay. You both try to argue, but Lou shuts you both down with his trademark eyebrow raise.

After getting your drinks, you walk around the festival a bit, stopping to play games when Mason finds one he wants to try out. By try out, he means that San has to play and try to win the toy Mason wants.

You hear your phone going off and you’re quick to grab it in case your mother needs you. You do find a text from you mom.

Mama: Honey, Joshua just came by looking for you. I didn't tell him where you were but just be on the lookout for him

Your breath catches, drawing San’s attention and you show him the message instead of speaking, not wanting to clue Mason in that there is a problem. All San does is grab your hand and gives it a tight squeeze before he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer with a kiss on the top of your head.

You walk around a bit more, stopping to get Mason a corn dog when you hear your name being called. You stiffen. You knew that voice and would recognize it anywhere.

You're brought back to reality by San giving your shoulder a squeeze, silently letting you know that he’s there if you need him. The two of you turn around while Mason is preoccupied with his food and find Joshua standing and glaring at San.

San looks unfazed, other than the tightness in his jaw. Joshua steps forward, eye San before turning to look at you.

"Y/N, can we talk?” You notice how his eyes flicker over to San once more. "In private?” he adds.

You lean further into San's side, taking a deep breath and filling your nostrils with the scent of San’s cologne, which calms you a little.

“Whatever it is, you can say it say right here.”

Joshua narrows his eyes, heaving out a sigh before speaking.

“Fine,” he says softly. “You left me no choice. Since you refuse to answer my messages, I came here to see you.” You say nothing, letting him get it all out.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I’ll say it a million times if that’s what you want. I miss you so much. You’re all I can think about. Please let me make it up to you. I know I can do it if you’ll just let me.”

You stare at him for a moment, not saying anything. “No.” He looks taken aback and you take the opportunity to continue. “I don’t love you. I don’t hate you either. I don’t really feel anything for you. I’m happy where I am. I’m happy having San by my side.” San acknowledges you statement with a long kiss to you temple.

Joshua goes to take a step forward, only to be cut off by Lou. “I think the lady has said what she needs to say. It’s time for you to leave.” Joshua looks at you one more time, searching your face for any change of your mind before he begrudgingly leaves.

After the confrontation with Joshua, San decides that it's time for you to leave and he gathers Mason, who throws a tiny tantrum before listening to his father and taking his hand. You walk in silence for a moment, hands intertwined until San breaks the silence. “You ok?” You smile and squeezes his hand, looking into his eyes. “I’m great.”

When you get back to your house, you’ve accepted it as your home now and you’re proud to call it that, you ask San if he can help you with one more thing and he immediately agrees. You all enter the house, Mason immediately calling out to your mother.

“Nana! Where are you?” Both you and San freeze, eyes wide. This is the first time Mason has called your mother that. Your mother steps out of the kitchen, equally surprised, but she quickly schools her expression and opens her arms catching Mason in her arms as he jumps to her. You look at San, tying to gauge his reaction, only to find a soft smile on his face and he watches your mother with his son. You squeeze his hand and tilt you head toward the staircase and he follows you up the stairs.

You walk to the end of the hall, standing in front of the door of you father’s study. San kisses your temple before speaking. “Take your time, love. There’s no rush.” With one last deep breath, you turn the knob and open the door and you step inside while San waits in the opening of the door.

The room looks the same as it always has. Books are tucked neatly on the bookcase, your father’s large desk in the center of the room. You walks over to the desk, running your fingers over the top of the desk slowly.

There’s a thin layer of dust and it’s the first time you have every seen dust on the desk. Your father always kept his study perfectly clean. You look around at all of the pictures on the wall. There are pictures of your parents on their wedding day. A picture of your dad with his parents.

You notice a single frame on the desk and you carefully pick it up. It's a picture from the day you were born, your father holding you with a bright smile and tears in his eyes. Your own eyes start to teat up and you feel arms wrap around your waist from behind, San moving to prop his chin on her shoulder.

“It’s ok to cry if that’s what you need to do. I’m so proud of you for coming in here. That took a lot of strength. My strong girl.” Your stomach flips at him calling you his and you turn to kiss his check, San turning to face you at the same time and your lips meet The kiss is sweet and gentle, just barely there.

San turns to to face you completely, his hand coming up to cup you check before giving you another slow kiss as your arms wrap around him. The kiss only last a moment, Mason’s footsteps coming up the stairs making you pull apart.

He stops at the door of the study, quickly asking San if he can stay the night with Nana and San looks at you with a lustful glint in his eye. “If it’s ok with your Nana, I don’t mind.” The sound of San calling your mother Mason’s nana makes your heart skip a beat.

You follow Mason down the stairs, listening as he asks if he can stay the night. Your mother doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course you can, my little monster.” Mason laughs and hugs her legs with a squeal. She turns to you and San, immediately noticing your intertwined hands. She smiles at the two you and gives you a slight nod of her head.

San tugs on your hand gently, looking at you with both lust and care as he leads you out of the door and across the lawn to his front door. He quickly unlocks it, letting you go in first. As soon as he steps through the door, his lips are on yours and his arms are around you.

You fist his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get him. It feels like the two of you are kissing forever, like the only oxygen you need is each other’s breath. San’s hands slide down to your hips, pulling your further against him, moaning slightly when you bump into his already hardening cock.

He pulls away, eyes flickering between yours. “Do you want to go to my room?” You aren’t sure you’ve ever nodding so fast as you take his hand and follow him.

You're able to take a brief look around San’s room before his lips are back on yours. His kisses are soft, gentle as his hands slowly find your waist. He tugs you closer to him, it's obvious he can't seem to get you close enough. His hands slide down, firmly kneading your ass.

You moan against his mouth, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He takes the chance he's been given, immediately deepening the kiss. His wet muscle dances with yours, slow and passionate. He steps forward, softly pushing you backwards until the backs of you legs hit his mattress, pushing you further back to lie flat.

He separates from you long enough for you to scoot until you're fully on his bed, him immediately climbing on top of you and connecting your lips again. One hand rests on your hip as his other cups your face. He pulls back, just far enough to speak against your lips.

“You're so pretty.” His voice is a whisper, but you still manage to hear him, and you give him a smile and peck his nose. “So are you.” He smiles, rubbing his nose against yours as his hands fall to the hem of your sweater.

“Can I?” You murder a soft ‘yes’ and he doesn't hesitate to lift it over your head. He stares at you in silence and you feel like you should be self conscious, but you aren't. You just let him admire you.

“Gorgeous.”

You aren't sure he meant for you to hear his words, so you don't say anything in return, just let out a whine, prompting him to snap out of his daze. He brings his hands up to cup your breasts over your bra, his touch firm but still soft. He looks up to your face, quirking an eyebrow up and you nod and sit up, allowing him to reach behind you and unclasp what's between him and your bare skin.

He flings the fabric over his shoulder, not even bothering to see where it lands. His hands come back to your chest, gripping you once more. San gives your nipples attention, pinching them in between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to arch your back with a soft moan. The sound of your pleasure makes him let out a moan himself, obviously enjoying that you're enjoying his actions.

Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your perked buds, his tongue immediately making its presence known with a flick. His hand continues to massage your other breast.

After a moment, he switches sides. “San. Please. Need you.” Your voice is in a quiet whine, as much as you enjoy what he's doing, your core throbs with need. He pulls back, releasing your nipple with a pop. His eyes are blown out with last, but his gaze is still soft and caring.

He slides his hands down your body, finding the button of your pants and flicking it open. He backs off the bed, immediately falling to his knees as he grabs your pants by the hem, slowly pulling them down.

The tension in the air is thick and you can tell that he's enjoying the teasing nature in which he undresses you. Your pants find the floor like your sweater and bra. His lips are on your ankle before you realize what is happening, slowly kissing up your leg.

He places a barely there kiss on your clothed core before kissing down your other leg, only to stick the tip of his tongue to your skin and lick his way back up to your hip. The unexpected action causes you to shiver with want, and you look down at San only to find him staring back at you with a smirk.

He grabs at your panties, continuing his slow pace in pulling them down. Part of you wishes he would hurry, but the greater part is enjoying the build up. Once your panties are off, he once again takes a moment to just look at you.

Slowly, he brings a finger to your core, sliding it from your hole up to your clit. You let out a soft moan, his groan coming not long after. “Look at that, baby. You're soaking. I've barely done anything, love. Is this all for me?” His words shoot a jolt through your body, causing your core to throb even harder.

“All for you, San. All yours.” Your words seem to spur him into action as he leans forward, his tongue making the same movement his finger had. Your moan is louder this time, his own moan right against your pussy has you bucking up into his face.

His hands find your thighs, wrapping around them to speak you open for him. He brings the tip of his tongue to circle your throbbing bud while your hand finds its way into his hair. He hums against you, his way of telling you that he approves of what you're doing and you give a slight tug. You can see his hips buck against the mattress, prompting you to give one more tug.

He dives into you, sliding his tongue up and down your pussy a few times before coming back to your clip for a brief moment before repeating. Your moans echo throughout the room as brings his finger to your entrance, sliding on in slowly. Your hips buck on their own as he pulls back out, a second finger joining as he slides back in.

His mouth is working hard against you and his fingers search for a moment before they find what he's looking for. A loud moan rips from your throat as he pushes against the spongy part inside of you. “Right there, baby?” You only manage a nod and he goes back to eating your can't, doubling his efforts as his fingers speed up. Your mind is swirling as your orgasm builds. No one has ever been able to work you up this quickly.

You're babbling now, vaguely aware of what you're saying. “Feels s'good. Please. Please.” He pulls back just enough to mumble against your core. “Come on, angel. Let go. Cum for me.” The vibrations against you coupled with his already fucked out voice causes the dam inside you to burst as you coat his fingers. He works you through your orgasm, fingers slowing down as your high fades. You look down to find him staring at you in awe. You mumble for him to climb back onto the bed and he immediately grants your wish.

Your hands move with purpose as you pull him to you, grabbing his shirt and ripping it from his body. Your breath catches as you look at the ridges and planes of his chest. He's well built, looking like a man cut from marble. “Fuck.” The words come out breathy and as you look back to his face, you can see a slight blush.

You place a soft kiss on his lips as you push him gently to lie on his back. He offers no resistance, letting you move him as you please. You spread his legs enough for you to fit in between his thighs as you bend down to kiss down his throat. He lets out a soft whine when your lips find his chest and you take the opportunity to give him a slight bite and his hips buck upwards. You can feel his hardened length against you and your core gushes with a fresh wave of wetness.

Your hands find his jeans, making quick work of getting them off of him, pulling his underdogs down with them. His cock hits his stomach and for a moment you're in awe. He's above average, but not huge. Long and thick, but you can't help but think that's it's the prettiest dick you've ever seen. His voice draws you out of your thoughts. “Baby. Please do something. I'm dying here.” You give him a slight chuckle, cupping his election with a gentle squeeze. His moan is load and oh so beautiful.

You scoot yourself down until your face meets his cock, your tongue peeking out to give his tip a kitten lick. This time he whines, obviously not able to take the slow treatment he had given you. You lick from his balls to his tip slowly, circling your tongue around the mushroom head of his cock.

Without missing a beat, your mouth engulfs his length, sliding down as far as you can take. Your hand wraps around what your mouth can't fit and you slowly start to bob your head. Just as yours had done, his hand finds your hair, giving a slight pull and you moan around him.

His hips buck again, causing his tip to hit the back of your throat and you hold back a gag. You let him slowly buck into your mouth as words tumble from his mouth. “Oh god. Fuck. So warm. Feels so good.” You pull off of his length as his thrusts get faster and he whines at the loss of contact.

You sit back up on your heels, watching the way his chest rises and falls heavily. You make eye contact as you speak, wanting to see his every reaction to your words.

“Condom?” He scrambles to his knees, reaching into the drawer of his bedside table and pull out a foil packet. He rips it open with his teeth, moving to place the rubber around himself. You stop him before he can, taking it from him and sliding it slowly down his length yourself. His groan comes from the back of his throat.

Once the condom is snug around his cock, you push him back down, climbing on top of him. You slide his cock up and down your pussy, getting him slick with your juices. On the slide back down, you push his tip into you.

Your moans come simultaneously, making a beautiful song of pleasure. His hands find your hips as you rotate them, letting your walls adjust. “Wait. Baby, give me a minute.” His eyebrows are furrowed as he pants. After a moment, he gives your hips a squeeze, letting you know that you can move.

Lifting your hips, you rise and fall back down slowly, enjoying the way he feels inside of you. You keep your pace slow, wanting to savor every moment of pleasure. The more you move the more San whines. His hands are clawing at your hips, his nails leaving little marks on your skin. He's babbling again and you clench around him.

“So fucking good. Fit me perfectly. Like you were made for me.” You lean forward, placing your lips on his as your pace increases slightly. At this angle, the tip of his cock nudges the place you need. It isn't long before your hurling towards your second orgasm, San's name repeatedly falling from your lips. With one thrust from San, your falling over the edge with a moan.

San makes quick work of flipping you over, his length never leaving your core. His pace is faster than you had expected, but his strokes hit deep. You've had no time to recover from your orgasm, but the sensitivity you're feeling only improves the way you feel. San is letting out of string of grunts as his balls hit against your ass. Your nails are digging into his back as you hold on to him.

“You're so perfect. So glad I get to have you like this. Wanted this for a while. Dreamt about it.” It's like he can't stop talking and you can't say that it bothers you. His hips start to stutter as the tension builds in your belly.

“San. I'm gonna come again. Cum with me. Please, baby. Please.”

Your words seems to have the desired effect as he delivers one last hard thrust, your name leaving his mouth in a groan as he fills the condom. Your high hits you at the perfect time, syncing with his. He falls on your body for a moment, panting heavily as you both come down.

He slowly pulls out of you with a wince, looking down to see your cunt still slightly pulsing. He gives a sweet kiss to your clit, giggling and apologizing as you whine and try to back away from him. You watch as he walks to his bathroom, coming back with a warm cloth to clean you up. He takes great care to get you well cleaned. “You want to take a shower?” You nod and make grabby hands at him and he lets a loud laugh and connects your hands to pull you up gently.

The shower is filled with soft touches and even softer kisses as you clean yourselves. Once the water is turned off and you've dried yourselves off, San offers you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers, which you eagerly accept.

You crawl into bed, finding yourself in his arms immediately. It's quiet, but comfortable. “So. You're mine now, right?” The fact that he even has to asks makes you giggle a little. Tilting your head up to face him, you place a kiss to his jaw.

“Yeah. I'm yours.”

Christmas the next morning is spent in your mother’s house, the four of you enjoying dinner and opening presents. And finally in your life, everything feels right.

[ONE YEAR LATER]

A year flies by, bringing new challenges and experiences and you're beyond happy. You watch as Mason plays on the floor by the tree with your mother, who's helping him unwrap his presents.

“Mommy, look!”

Your heart soars at the boy calling you mom. You can feel San smiling as he stands behind you, arms around your waist. As you talk to Mason about his new toy, you don't notice the look your mother gives your boyfriend. Behind you, he smiles, slowly reaching into his pocket, trying not to draw your attention. Your mother smiles wide as she watches San pull the ring box out of his pocket slightly.

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