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#she was like ‘your dad would offer to pay if he was here but I believe in lessons’ GIRL FUCK YOUR LESSONS I WANT MY NAILS DONE 😭😭😭
hella1975 · 8 months
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basically threw away £20 on my nails today so was already getting weird bc i apparently cannot be normal about money and then my paycheck came through just for my manager to have knocked off 11 hours worth of pay. so naturally i am crying in a dark room about it
#this is such a girl moment wdym you’re crying about your fucking nails. couldn’t explain it to you if i tried#im just an utter FREAK about money and then for my payslip to get fucked as well. whyyyyy would you do that#im not built for the working world truly idk how sensitive people do it bc i am NOT im tough as shit 99% of the time and i STILL can’t deal#just give me my fucking money it’s not fair 😭😭😭 i worked hard 😭😭😭#and the dumbest brattiest part of this is that the thing that tipped me over the edge is that my mum didn’t offer to pay for my nails#like how ridiculous and spoiled is that but still i was so so angry at myself about fucking them up and it’s £25 to get them done tomorrow#and I’ve worked so hard for her this summer and both days I’ve been in town I’ve got her things#like nothing spenny but I’ve just thought of her and got her things I know she’d like just to be nice#and £25 is NOTHING TO HER AND SHE DIDNT EVEN OFFER 😭😭 she even joked it off#she was like ‘your dad would offer to pay if he was here but I believe in lessons’ GIRL FUCK YOUR LESSONS I WANT MY NAILS DONE 😭😭😭#why am i actually in tears over this. this is so silly. now all my money is fucked and im going to be the skint one when we go to dublin#AS USUAL. even though i worked hard and clocked the hours it still got fucked bc im fucking. cursed#im aware im being dramatic and this isn’t even about the amount of money i have atm i promise this isn’t some desperate bankruptcy claim#like for once im actually fine money wise it’s just all been FUCKED and my dates are now FUCKED bc i have to wait for next paycheck now#and it’s so unfair bc usually things go wrong for me bc im DUMB and mess it up LIKE MY NAIL APPOINTMENT#but for work and dublin i literally planned it perfectly and did the hours and it still didn’t work#like what is WRONG with me. i hate being an adult i need a sugar daddy ive had enough#the message I sent my manager…. scathing…. ik his scared of confrontation ass is panicking. give me my fucking MONEY#hella goes home
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storiesforallfandoms · 5 months
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new toy ~ felix catton;saltburn
word count: 5901
request?: no
description: when he brings a girl home for the summer, she finds herself struggling to fit into his lifestyle
pairing: felix catton x female!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of parent deaths, farleigh being a catty rich bitch (affectionate), feelings of insecurity and inadequacy, little bit of angst, things get steamy but no actual smut in this one
masterlist (one, two, three)
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Venetia rushed to the window of her bedroom as she heard the car carrying her brother pulling up the drive. The family had been made aware that Felix was bringing a friend home for the summer. Not that anyone had to tell them. Felix often had a new sad sack in tow whenever he came home from school, who would never be seen again once they returned to school at the end of the summer. Venetia had tried to get some information on this new friend from Farleigh, but her cousin said he hadn't seen anyone new hanging out with Felix during the school year. She was itching to get a peak at Felix's newest toy.
She gasped and turned to Farleigh, who was looking at her in curiosity. "It's a girl!"
(Y/N) stepped out of the car as Felix excitedly talked away. She looked at the giant house with wide eyes. She knew Felix had money; his parents were paying his way through college after all, meanwhile (Y/N) was a scholarship kid. But she never could've imagined he was this level of rich. His house was a goddamn castle!
She was wondering if it was too late to back out of Felix's offer to stay over.
An older man dressed in a black suit opened the front door as (Y/N) and Felix approached. (Y/N) stopped suddenly as the man's glare landed on her.
"Duncan!" Felix exclaimed. "How are you, you serious old brute?"
"Good to see you, master Felix. This is your new...friend?"
The way he said it made (Y/N) wince.
Felix turned to her and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Don't be frightened, (Y/N). This is my family butler, Duncan. He looks terrifying, but his bark is worse than his bite."
(Y/N) tried to smile at Duncan, but he merely continued to stare her down. She shrunk into Felix's embrace, which, luckily, the taller boy noticed her discomfort and brought her into the house. With his arm still around her, Felix brought (Y/N) around the giant house. There was so much to see, so much to know. There was simply no way she'd remember it all. She expected to get lost just trying to get to the bathroom.
Luckily, that wouldn't be a problem at least, as Felix led her into his room. "Your room is just through here. We'll be sharing a bathroom. Hope you don't mind."
She was glad he wasn't facing her so he missed the look on her face at his statement.
Felix threw the door to her room open with a flourish before turning to her. "And this is where you'll be staying. Don't worry about unpacking, the butlers will do that for you. It has a nice view of the garden and such, and I'm just next door past the bathroom, as you've already seen."
He flopped down onto her bed and stretched out so he was taking up the entire bed. (Y/N) pushed his leg over a bit so she could sit next to him. "It's a lot to take in."
"I know," Felix said. He rolled onto his side to look up at her. "It'll feel like a lot, but I promise my family will love you. And if it gets overwhelming, I'll be here."
He put his hand on her leg. She looked down at it, the heat from where his hand was touching rising from that spot all the way up to her face. Her entire body felt like it had been ignited by a simple gesture to try and bring her comfort. She wondered if Felix knew what he did to her.
She tried not to let her disappointment show as Felix stood, removing his hand from her leg.
"I'll let you unwind or whatever," he said. "Dinner isn't until 5, so you have plenty of time to yourself until then. You brought a dress, right?" She nodded. "Good. Mum and dad insist on fancy dinner wear. It's a little embarrassing. I'll be in my room if you need anything."
And just like that, he was gone. (Y/N) sighed and fell back onto the bed.
This definitely was not how she expected to spend her summer. She had started her time at Oxford as an outcast, a scholarship loser among a sea of rich kids. She tired not to let it get to her. Getting into Oxford at all was a big deal, (Y/N) knew to be proud of that. But that didn't make the whispers and dirty looks directed towards her any easier to take.
She didn't seek out friendship with anyone, let alone with Felix. Of course, she had noticed Felix. Who wouldn't? He was beautiful and had charm for days. Everyone loved him. But (Y/N) knew better than to try and approach him. They were from two completely different worlds, and (Y/N) knew she didn't belong in his world.
To her surprise, it was Felix who initiated first contact.
They were in an English class together. Felix had sat next to her one day and asked, "Did you finish the reading for today?" (Y/N) was so shocked that he had spoken to her that she could only nod in response. "Can you summarize it for me? I tried to read it but it was so fucking boring."
Apparently, that one act of kindness was enough to consider (Y/N) a friend. Felix invited her to sit with him at the bar, to come study in his room, to go to the "invite only" parties on campus. His other rich friends didn't seem to enjoy her company, but he did and that's all that mattered.
When (Y/N) told Felix she had nowhere to go for the summer, he invited her to come stay with him and his family in Saltburn. He refused to take no for an answer. So now here she was, in a bedroom that only had a bathroom to separate her and the boy she had started developing feelings for but knew she couldn't have, in a house the size of a castle owned by a family who mad more money than she'd ever see in her life.
She let out another sigh for good measure before sitting up. She still had plenty of time before dinner, but she wanted to make sure she was presentable to meet Felix's family for the first time. She got up and went to the bathroom, locking the door that led to Felix's room just in case. There was no shower, so she had to opt for a bath. She tried to be quick, but once she had laid in the oversized tub and allowed the hot water to engulf her, she never wanted to get out. Maybe she could spend the entire summer in the tub instead of dealing with Felix's family.
When the water began to go cold, she reluctantly got out and returned to her room. She had packed the limited amount of makeup she owned just in case there were any formal gatherings she needed to dress up for. Now she was definitely glad she had if dinner was meant to be a formal thing. She did her makeup carefully to make sure it was perfect, then dug through her bag for the dress she had packed. It wasn't anything super fancy, just a royal blue, off the shoulder dress with a pleated skirt that came down just above the knee. It was the nicest dress she owned, so eh hoped it would suffice.
There was still some time before dinner, but (Y/N) figured it was time to meet the family.
She stepped out of her room and realized she had no idea where to go to find the dining room.
"Need help?"
(Y/N) jumped and turned to see Duncan stood, blank faced yet again, looking at her,
"Yes please," she responded, her voice soft.
"Follow me," Duncan told her. He didn't wait to see if she was following, she she quickly troted along behind him to keep up.
The Catton family was sat around the dinner table already when Duncan led (Y/N) into the room. All eyes turned to her when she walked in. She suddenly felt very self conscious and wished she was back in the hot, welcoming bath tub.
Until she caught Felix looking at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.
"Oh, Felix, darling," an older woman sat at the head of the table - Felix's mom - said. "She is absolutely beautiful."
His mom stood from her seat and quickly approached (Y/N). She gently cupped (Y/N)'s cheeks. (Y/N) tensed, unsure of what to do. Mrs. Catton didn't seem to notice, or if she did she didn't let on.
"Honey, you didn't tell us how beautiful she was," Mrs. Catton said to her son.
"You never believe me," Felix retorted.
Mrs. Catton turned back to (Y/N). "Welcome, darling. We're very happy to have you here. You can call me Lady Elspeth." She took (Y/N)'s hands and squeezed them, then gestured towards the table. "We left a seat free next to Felix for you. Come, sit. Dinner will be served soon."
(Y/N) quickly moved to the table, oping to no longer be the center of attention. Felix was still smiling at her as she sat down next to him.
"You do look beautiful," he said.
Her face started heating up. "Thank you."
Across from them, a throat cleared. Felix glanced up at his cousin. (Y/N) didn't miss the subtle change in Felix's expression. "(Y/N), this is my cousin, Farleigh, and my sister, Venetia."
"Oh, I know Farleigh," she said, looking over at the other young man. He gave her an obviously forced smile. "I-I mean, I know of Farleigh. I've seen you around on campus."
"Weird that I haven't seen you. It's not like Felix to hide his friends away," Farleigh said.
"I wasn't hiding her away." Felix's face was tense. (Y/N) wondered what the story between him and Farleigh was. They seemed to get along well on campus, or at least Farleigh was in Felix's friend group.
Dinner was served, thus breaking up the tense moment. A plate was placed in front of everyone and they all began to eat. (Y/N) tried not to draw too much attention to herself, but she knew her presence alone was drawing attention. Both Farleigh and Venetia weren't very subtle with the way they were staring at her.
"So, (Y/N)," Elspeth said after a few moments of silence, "what is it you're studying at Oxford?"
"English," (Y/N) responded. "I'd like to be a writer when I graduate, but I know that's not an entirely realistic dream so I'm aiming to be an English teacher as a backup."
"Oh, writing! That's wonderful, darling!" Elspeth said. (Y/N) was somewhat shocked that Elspeth seemed genuine with her interest. "Have you written anything yet?"
"A few short stories." She shrugged. "Nothing major."
"'Nothing major'?" Felix questioned. "She's won contests with her short stories! Remember, you told me one of your stories was published in an anthology of short stories when you were still in high school?"
Elspeth and Felix's dad, Sir James, were impressed, while (Y/N) was surprised that Felix had remembered her telling him that. He was smiling down at her in pride and she couldn't help but smile back at him.
"Is that how you got your scholarship?" Farleigh asked. The look on his face told (Y/N) that his question wasn't as genuine as Elspeth's had been.
"Farleigh," Felix sneered.
"What? I was just asking. It's not like it's a secret that she's a scholarship kid. There's no shame in needing some financial help."
"You would know, wouldn't you?"
"Boys," James said, his voice stern in warning.
Dinner fell quiet after that. (Y/N) pushed her food around her plate, suddenly no longer hungry. She was back to wishing she could melt away into the floor and never be seen again. Maybe it wasn't too late to just go back to the school and stay in the dorms alone for the summer.
Once she had finished eating, she politely excused herself and went back to her room. She had paid enough attention when Duncan showed her to the dining room that she made it back with no issue. The minute the door closed behind her, she let out a sigh. A lump had started to form in her throat, but she was refusing to let herself cry. Even now while she was alone, she didn't want to give in to these feelings. She had to be strong, at least until she could get her things together and figure out a way back to the school.
As Felix had told her, the butlers had unpacked her bag while she was at dinner. It took her a moment to find her pajamas and makeup remover. She pulled on an oversized shirt she had packed to wear on the warm nights and was leaned over the dresser to start taking off her makeup, the shirt riding up just enough, when the door connecting her and Felix suddenly opened. Felix walked in, still in his suit from dinner, except he had removed his tie and the top few buttons had been undone. (Y/N) quickly stood up straight, pulling her shirt down to cover her ass.
"Don't you knock?" she asked.
"No, why would I?" he said.
"What if I was changing?"
"You weren't."
She rolled her eyes and went back to taking her makeup off, this time more cautious about how much of her was being exposed with Felix in the room.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry about how Farleigh acted during dinner," Felix said.
(Y/N) paused for a moment. She glanced at Felix through the mirror. He was looking up at her with an expression that told her his apology was genuine.
"It's alright," she said.
"No, it wasn't alright. He shouldn't be saying those things about you. It's not like he's much different. My parents have financially supported him for years and let him stay here for free. At least you earned your scholarship, he only got his way in life because of his family."
"So did you, though." There was a beat, and (Y/N) quickly turned to face Felix. "Wait, I didn't mean - "
"No, you're right," he cut her off. "My parents have financially helped me, too. You're the only one among us who has really earned your spot at Oxford. It's not fair of Farleigh to try and make you feel small because you come from a different background."
(Y/N) wanted to tell him it wasn't just Farleigh, it was everyone at Oxford. Even Felix's own friend group had shunned (Y/N) when he introduced her to them. It felt like Felix was the only one who truly wanted to befriend (Y/N).
"You don't have to apologize for him," she said instead. "But I appreciate that you'd want to."
"You're my friend. I didn't bring you here to be insulted by my obnoxious cousin, I brought you here because I wanted you to spend the summer with us."
Friend.
Even though she knew that's all they were, it still stung to hear him say it. She wanted so much more than that, but it was wishful thinking to believe that Felix cause ever want more than that.
"I...I think I'm gonna just...get in bed."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's still only early."
"I know. All the travel just has me feeling pretty worn out."
"Okay."
He stood and (Y/N) expected him to go back to his room. When he started to unbutton his shirt more, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
"What are you doing?!"
"I was going to stay over here tonight. If you were okay with that, that is."
"You're supposed to ask these things before you just start undressing."
Felix chuckled as (Y/N) turned her back to him. "You really don't want to watch as I undress?"
Of course I want to watch! "I'm just...trying to be courteous."
He laughed again. (Y/N) could hear the sounds of his clothes hitting the floor. She wondered why he hadn't at least gone back to his room to get a pair of pajamas. At least pajama pants. She was starting to get the feeling that at home, Felix didn't have to ask many questions, and that also extended towards his guests.
"Okay, I am covered."
When she turned back, he was under the covers of her bed, his hands behind his head so she could see that he was at least shirtless under there.
"The bed is big enough for us to share," he said, reading the shocked look on her face. "That is, again, if you don't mind."
"N-No. I-I guess that's fine."
(Y/N) crawled into bed next to Felix. She tried to put as much distance between the two of them as she could but, despite what Felix said, the bed certainly was not that big. She could still feel the heat from his body as she turned onto her side, her back to him. She could feel his nearness. And she could feel the fact that he was only wearing his boxers.
"You don't have to stay, you know," she said. "I'm not going to slip away during the night or something."
He bed shook a little as he laughed. "I know. I just wanted to stay over here. At the very least, I want to make sure you don't have any issues sleeping. I always find I struggle when I'm trying to sleep in a new place."
(Y/N) rolled onto her other side so that she could face Felix. The full moon was shining through the window, illuminating his face. He turned his head to look down at her.
"I really appreciate everything you've done for me, Felix," she said, her voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.
He smiled. "Get some sleep, (Y/N). I don't intend on having a boring day tomorrow if the weather is nice."
~~~~~~
When (Y/N) woke up the next morning, she completely forgot where she was. The bed was far too soft to be the one in her dorm at Oxford, and it was certainly too hot to be just a normal day during the schooling semester.
Not to mention the fact that there was a body laying under her.
(Y/N)'s eyes snapped open as she realized her head was resting on Felix's chest, and his arm around wrapped around her. At some point in the night, they must've shifted so that they were cuddling. (Y/N) wasn't sure if she should pull away or stay where she was. What would Felix's reaction be when he woke up and found them both in such a compromising position?
A knock came at her door. "Miss. (Y/N)?"
It was Duncan's voice. Now she was definitely panicking.
"Just checking if you're awake," he added.
"Uh...yeah! I am Duncan!" she called back.
"Breakfast is being served in ten minutes. Do wake up master Felix and let him know as well. His mother will want him to punctual since she didn't get as much time with him last night."
Her face burned. She wondered if Duncan knew Felix was in here with her, or if he meant for her to go over to Felix's room to wake him.
The sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway told her that Duncan had walked away. She let out a breath, relaxing into Felix's side yet again. She felt him move beneath her and she quickly pulled out of his arms before he started to wake up.
She was shocked at how beautiful he looked in the morning. The same perfect beauty he had when he fell asleep. Not a single hair out of place, no drool on his lips, no sleepy gunk in his eyes. It was really unfair just how perfect he really was.
His eyes slowly blinked open and he smiled when he saw (Y/N) looking down at him. "Good morning."
"Morning," she said. "Uh, Duncan was just here. He said breakfast is in ten minutes."
Felix groaned. "I don't want to get up yet. Why does mum have to have breakfast so early?"
(Y/N) looked at the clock hung on the wall. "It's almost 10am."
"Far too early to wake up in the summer."
She couldn't help but chuckle a little. Felix stretched his arms out and sat up as well. His face was suddenly very close to hers, almost too close.
"I suppose I should get ready for breakfast then," he said.
"Is there any dress code for breakfast?"
He shook his head. "Not for breakfast, but the dress code for today's events is a bathing suit. Once we finish eating, I'm taking you down to the lake."
~~~~~~
A few hours later, (Y/N) was following Felix towards the lake next to his house. It was a scorching hot day outside. One that was definitely better spent in the cooling water instead of cooped up inside.
Farleigh and Venetia were already by the lake. Farleigh was laid back on a towel, reading some book, while Venetia was sat by the lake with her feet in the water. She looked over her shoulder as she heard the two approach and smiled.
"Well, here they are!" she announced. "Finally you're here."
"Pull up a towel," Farleigh said, not looking up from his book.
(Y/N) went to sit on the grass, but Venetia called, "Not you! You're joining me down here. I've been surrounded by this testosterone for far too long."
She wasn't about to argue. She was already coated in sweat just from walking down from the house. (Y/N) sat beside Venetia and placed her feet in the water. The sudden cold was like a shock to her system, but definitely a welcome one.
"So, (Y/N)," Venetia said, "tell me, how did you and my brother meet?"
"We were in class together," (Y/N) responded. "I helped him with an assigned reading he had trouble with."
"Saved my ass from failing that surprise test the professor gave us," Felix added.
"It wasn't a surprise, he told us about it the class before," (Y/N) said.
"I wasn't there that class, so it was a surprise to me."
"Was that the day you were too hungover after a dorm party on a Sunday night?" Farleigh asked.
"A Sunday?!" (Y/N) laughed.
"It was a surprise party for one of my friends in the dorm," Felix responded. "He had gone home for the weekend so we had to have the party that Sunday. I didn't plan to get fucked up that night."
"You never do," Farleigh commented.
"What about your family, (Y/N)?" Venetia interrupted. "Are they okay with you spending your summer with a load of strangers?"
Felix opened his mouth to deter his sister from asking, but (Y/N) cut him off by saying, "My parents are dead."
A silence fell over them. Venetia looked a mixture of horrified and sad. Farleigh lowered his book to look over at (Y/N). Felix was trying not to look at any of them while (Y/N) was fixing her attention on the water in front of her. She was running her feet back and forth, disrupting the otherwise calm water.
"They died when I was ten," she continued. "Car accident, drunk driver. I've lived with my grandparents since then, but my grandpa died a year ago and my gran is starting to develop dementia. When I got accepted into Oxford, I made a deal with the Dean that I could stay on campus during the summers until I could afford my own place."
Venetia looked like she was about to cry. (Y/N) suddenly wished she had lied and made up some story about her parents.
"Way to ruin the moon, V," Farleigh commented.
"I didn't know!" Venetia retorted.
"No, it's fine," (Y/N) cut off their bickering. "It's tough, but I've had years to come to terms with all the death, and gran is in a nursing home now so she's being taken care of. I don't want anyone to tip toe around me like I'm made of glass."
As if to make her point, (Y/N) pushed off the edge of the lake and into the water. She shrieked as the cold engulfed her. Venetia followed suit, and soon enough both of them had convinced Farleigh and Felix to get into the water as well. The conversation was long forgotten as they swam around, splashing one another as if they were children.
~~~~~~
That night, (Y/N) was sat in the garden underneath her bedroom window. With the sun gone down, the air had cooled off, but only slightly. The room was still too stuffy for her, and opening the window just made it worse, so she opted to sit out in the cool air before she tried to sleep again.
Footsteps approached and she expected it to be Felix. When she turned, she was surprised to see Venetia instead, dressed in a sheer nightgown and carrying a lit cigarette between her fingers.
"Mind if I sit?" Venetia asked.
"I feel like I should be the one asking you that, considering it's your house."
Venetia chuckled and sat next to her.
(Y/N)'s first impression of Venetia had been wrong, and she was kind of glad it had been. She thought that, like Farleigh, Venetia was also going to be a little catty and condescending towards her. But after their day by the lake, she felt a sort of kinship with Venetia. They were the only two young girls at Saltburn, they had to look out for one another at the very least.
"So, how are you enjoying your stay so far?" Venetia asked.
"It's lovely here," (Y/N) said. "Much better than spending the summer at the Oxford campus along. At least there's a lot of the house to explore, and at least two people who seem to want me here."
"Three, if you count mum. She's ecstatic to have you. If you're not careful, she might just try and adopt you."
"I wouldn't complain."
Venetia took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. "And, um...has Felix been treating you well?"
(Y/N) looked over at her with confusion. "I'd...say more than well. Why?"
"I just..." Venetia leaned over, resting her arms against her legs. "I'm not saying this to try and scare you or anything. I truly like you, (Y/N), and I just want to warn you because I know how my brother is. He often takes someone who is a little more...damaged than him under his wing and brings them back here for a few months. But once the summer ends, or once he's lost interest, he casts them aside for whatever new shiny toy catches his attention."
Venetia's words hit (Y/N) like a ton of bricks. She had been telling herself for months since meeting Felix that their friendship was too good to be true, that he was going to realize he was making a mistake and move on. But when he didn't, when he asked her back to his house for the summer, she thought that maybe she was wrong. Maybe he actually did care for her and wanted to be friends with her. She had a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe this summer would bring them closer together, that they could become more than just friends.
If anyone would know how Felix was, it would be Venetia. She was his sister. She had seen a lifetime of the way Felix acted with friends. If she was warning her of the possibility that Felix might toss her aside once the summer ended, then she felt inclined to believe Venetia.
"Again, I'm not telling you this as a way to make you upset," Venetia added. "Trust me, I want nothing more than for you to stay with us for the summer. I just really do not want you to get hurt if that's what happens with Felix."
Tears were forming in (Y/N)'s eyes again. She was having a harder time at fighting them than the night before after all Farleigh had said to her. She quickly stood and murmured a "goodnight" to Venetia before rushing back inside the house. She got to her bedroom just in time for the tears to start falling.
Stupid! You're so stupid for thinking you belonged here in his world. You're nothing more than a charity case for him!
(Y/N) sunk to the floor and buried her head in her hands. She cried and cried until the tears dried up and she was essentially dry sobbing. Her eyes felt heavy and her body was aching from being on the floor for so long. She just wanted to go to back to the school and pretend this entire trip never happened.
When she finally coaxed herself to stand, (Y/N) went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth before bed. She looked at herself in the mirror and winced. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks were flush, and there were tear stains on her cheeks from crying. She grabbed a face cloth and wet it down with warm water. Before she could start wiping her face, the door leading to Felix's room opened. She froze, the wet cloth in her hands.
"Hey," Felix said. She thought for a moment that he hadn't noticed her state, until suddenly he was beside her. "What happened? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she said, wincing again at the sound of her horse voice.
"You don't look or sound fine."
She began to wipe her face, trying to ignore Felix's presence. As she rinsed the face cloth again, she said, "I think I'm going to call the Dean tomorrow to ask if my room is still available at the school, then look into getting the next train back to Oxford as soon as possible."
"What? Why? I thought you wanted to stay."
(Y/N) shook her head. "I don't belong here, Felix. This is your world, not mine. I'm just the girl with dead parents and a scholarship, struggling to figure out how or if I'll ever be financially stable enough to live on my own once the school kicks me out."
"What did Farleigh say to you?"
"It wasn't Farleigh!" she snapped, finally turning to face him. "It was Venetia! She told me that you don't let people stick around for long. That you take in the charity cases and toss them aside when you're bored. And I knew that's what was happening with me, I knew there was no way you could possibly want to be friends with me, but I was also stupid enough to let myself believe that maybe it was all real. That maybe you actually cared and you actually wanted me here!"
She was crying again. She must've looked and sounded insane. She wished she had never accepted Felix's offer to come here. She could only imagine what he would say about her when she left the next day.
"I'm not staying here and waiting to be hurt, Felix," she said. "You may think it's fun to toy with people's emotions, but I don't. Not when I trusted you in telling you about my parents, about my stories, about my sad little poor life."
She had more to say, although she wasn't sure if any of it would've made sense, but Felix cut her off before she could. He took hold of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. It surprised her at first and she pulled away almost immediately. He looked down at her, worried, like he was scared he had just crossed a line. When her brain finally caught up to what was happening, she quickly leaned back in to kiss him again.
Her hands held on to his shirt while one of his still cupped her face and the other started to move down her body. With one quick movement, he had lifted her up onto the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands moved to tangle into his hair. His tongue moved across her bottom lip, silently asking for entrance to her mouth. She realized he was commando under his pajama pants when she felt him pressed against her, the only layer between being her panties as she was once again in the oversized shirt she had worn the night before.
Felix broke away first. She tried to follow him, but he held her back, a playful grin on his face.
"I don't want you to go," he said. "I want you here. Not just for this summer, but every summer from now on. I want you in my dorm room back at school, and eventually in my own place when we finish with school. I want you, (Y/N). You're not some toy to me."
"How long have you felt like this?" she asked.
"Since before I spoke to you in class that first day."
"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"
"I kept chickening out. Every girl I've been with has only wanted me for my money, or my looks, or both. No one has ever really cared for me as a person. When you did, it almost intimidated me. I needed to know for sure you'd be here for the long run, so I brought you home to see how you'd react to everything."
"Am I passing the test?"
He chuckled and kissed her again. "With flying colors."
She couldn't get enough of him; of his lips, his smile, his body against hers, his hands on her. She wanted all of him all the time. She suddenly never wanted to leave either of their rooms for the rest of the summer.
"You can still go back to school if you feel uncomfortable here. I wouldn't blame you there," he said. "But if you're going back, I'm coming with you."
She shook her head. "I couldn't take you away from your family."
"Then stay. I want you to be here, too. I want to be with you."
She grinned cheekily back at him. "If you're going to beg, you should be on your knees at least."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "If that's what you want."
She wanted all of him all the time, but she decided not to say that just yet. She was still a little cautious. She had to make sure Felix meant what he was saying, even if she felt deep down that he was. He needed to prove himself to her before she opened up that much to him.
But for now, she would definitely take the sight of him on his knees, his face between her legs as his hands pushed the shirt up around her hips.
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ssahotchnerr · 9 months
Note
okay so, I really don't like angst so I'll go with jealous!Hotch 🤭
Something like when Reader is at Jack's soccer game and Idk, a dad flirts with her? But when Jack sees that she's talking with someone who isn't Hotch, he calls her "mom" in front of the dad who's flirting with her, (bc he's jealous too 🤭) but Hotch hears him and he's kind of moved, but someone is flirting with his girl so he gets all jealous and starts like kissing her or something in front of the man? And the night they end up at his home, with Hotch showing her that she belongs to him 🤭
(feel free to change anything, don't worry, also, sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language 😭)
keeping score
🤭 minors dni cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, unwanted advances, suggestiveness, allusions to sex, small praise, dominant!jealous!possessive aaron 🦋 wc; 1.5k
early saturday mornings - grass still slightly wet from the dew, the sun slowly rising higher into the sky (threatening a hot day), sat alongside a soccer field - you couldn't imagine another place you'd rather be.
as aaron was the coach, you spent majority of jack's game sitting alone. it was a small price to pay; you were more than happy to cheer on jack from the sidelines, and to check aaron out as much as you wanted.
but most importantly, attending his games made you feel like you were a part of the family. the hotchners were closed off and let very few people in, and so your attendance here only solidified your role in both their lives. that aaron planned on keeping you around, and that jack trusted you. your role in his life wasn't to someday replace his mom, but rather you were just another person who simply loved him. you loved him like he was your own, and he knew it.
"mornin'," a voice pulled you from your thoughts; a familiar face amongst the other parents on the team, but you didn't know him by name.
you offered a quick, friendly smile, "good morning."
he set up camp near you, setting his foldable chair down and getting settled a few feet away. you paid him no mind, resuming your attention to something more worthy of your focus, such as how attractive aaron looked in the jeans he was wearing. and the game, obviously.
however, you could feel him peering at you from time to time, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
ten minutes or so passed before he spoke again, "so, big soccer fan?"
your eyes followed jack, who was dribbling the soccer ball down the field. your heart swelled with pride as he successfully kicked it to a teammate, "not until recently."
"me too." he offered you a look that he probably thought was slick, while you kept your gaze straight forward. "i'm always looking to score, if you know what i mean."
his words instantly caused your cheeks to burn, along with your whole body. it was clear he was objectifying you, with no good intentions in mind.
you didn't bother replying. hopefully, that would be a clear indicator for him to leave, or to leave you alone.
but he still chose to linger. and while he wasn't speaking, in your peripheral you kept noticing his head turn, gazing in your direction. his eyes were nearly burning a hole into you.
"shit." he swore as he suddenly stood up, picking up and moving his chair even closer to yours, "the grass is eating away at my chair. must've been that damn rain last night."
it hadn't rained last night.
the unsettling feeling he was causing you only grew, but again you didn't dare to say anything. the uncomfortableness only eased when the whistle finally blew, signaling halftime. this meant a water break and a small snack for the kids, and it meant aaron and jack would soon be joining you for a moment.
as expected, jack hurried towards you as soon as one of the other moms distributed him his snack, but paused abruptly as he reached you, his eyes scanning between you and the man. a confused expression filled his face, his bottom lip sticking out into a pout. it was the same one he produced whenever aaron gave him the fifteen minute warning for bedtime.
"mom," jack inserted himself in between the two of you, a small package of fruit snacks in hand, "can you open these for me?"
you froze for a spilt second, touched and surprised. you've been a constant in both aaron and jack's lives for almost a year now. but that title, was a first.
"of course sweet pea," you coughed a bit to clear your throat, and to stop the tears from surfacing, opening it for him.
"you did good out there kiddo," the dad spoke again, flashing a smile.
your fists clenched at that one - you knew he was trying to impress you, and you hated how he had decided to use interacting with jack to his advantage.
just wait until you find how he's the coach's son.
while you were furious, jack ever so slightly rolled his eyes, such an annoyed expression almost humorous for a child his age, choosing to focus on his snack and leaning comfortably against your shoulder.
and a minute or two later, aaron joined.
as aaron approached, his face nearly pulled into the same expression as his son's as he analyzed the visual in front of him. only his was accompanied with a more hardened, possessive aggressiveness.
"hi sweetheart," aaron greeted you, leaning in to kiss you once you were on your feet. it wasn't a chaste peck either, but rather more showy. his fingers grasped onto the waistline of your pants, pulling you flush to him. "enjoying the game?"
you nodded, still recovering from the unexpected heated kiss, looking down at jack who also was glued to your side, offering protection of his very own. you gave him a smile, ruffling his hair gently, "i think we've got a soccer star on our hands."
"speaking of," aaron started, straightening his torso and squaring his shoulders, making him appear taller. "jack, why don't you join the others. they're taking turns aiming at the goal before the game resumes."
with a nod, and after handing you the empty wrapper, jack ran off to his teammates. aaron was still holding his menacing glare, but dropped the entire expression suddenly.
"how are you feeling?"
"feeling...?" your eyebrows quirked in confusion.
"you're not too sore today, aren't you?" his eyes darted behind you, a rather confident, fiery glint within them. "i wasn't holding back last night, was i?"
oh.
"and now that i'm thinking about it, i don't think you've ever been that loud either."
aaron had always been a stickler for pda; any displays were kept to quick kisses, hand holding, and any suggestive comments were kept to a murmur, meant for you and you only. even when you tagged along with him to bau outings, such as a bar on a saturday night, he held back. anything more was private, and aaron preferred it that way - him being the only one to witness you in such a vulnerable state, was something he took gratification in, and only added to his overall pleasure.
so this, was something else. he wasn't speaking loud enough for all to hear, just enough for the man in question. your back was towards him, so you had no idea how he was reacting to aaron's words.
"i'm fine." you managed, your body also reacting immediately.
aaron's lips found home behind your ear, again conscience of his volume - just loud enough. "good, because i'm not done with you yet."
aaron's hand slid up to the small of your back, but not without stopping on the curve of your ass first - again he wasn't subtle about it, making sure it was noticeable.
and it had to be working, for the man hadn't uttered a single word.
"and actually, sweetheart." another glare pointed behind you. "would you mind helping me at the bench for the rest of the game? i could use an extra set of hands."
"of course." you blurted out, complying without a second thought.
"good girl," he was heavy on the emphasis, patting your hip affectionately. "c'mon."
you were visually flustered as you leaned down to gather your belongings, especially when aaron's hand rested on the small of your back as you did so. your eyes lifted to the man, who was avoiding all eye contact, staring off into the field with a flushed face.
once you straightened up aaron took your hand, leading you away.
"thank you." you mumbled as your hand slid up his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze.
aaron's jaw clenched. "i fucking hated the way he was looking at you."
"you wouldn't like what he was saying either." you mumbled, causing aaron's nostrils to flare in anger. but to calm him, you changed the subject, heat filling your cheeks again, "and you."
a pleased, closed lip smile graced his face. "what about me?"
"what was all that?" you teased, stomach fluttering. you already knew the answer, but it was something you wanted to hear from him again. "i've never heard you, so..."
he chuckled softly, an almost embarrassing undertone to his words. "vocal?"
"yeah." you blurted out, blinking. "it was hot."
aaron shrugged, satisfied but still agitated. "he was devouring you, practically undressing you with his eyes."
"well, i don't think he'll be trying anything again."
"i know he won't," aaron's eyes darkened as his overly confident demeanor resurfaced, his lips pulling into a smirk as one of his fingers tapped your neck, "especially when he sees you next week. because you won't be covering up those marks."
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writingouthere · 5 months
Note
Wait neighbor Sukuna is cuteeeeee I need a story pleaseeee🥹🥹🥹
another neighbor!Sukuna drabble. your first unofficial date.
cw: fluff, single parent reader, Sukuna is a good neighbor but a bad dude
The first time that Sukuna took you out happened on accident.
He'd been keeping track of your comings and goings so he could start being in the hallway at the same time as you to give a casual hello. His favorite times were when you had time to just chat without you needing to rush off to work or to daycare or one of the many activities you always were taking your daughter to.
It was a Saturday morning and Sukuna's ears perked up when he heard you talking to your daughter down the hallway. You couldn't clearly hear what you were saying but the tone seemed soothing and he thought he could even make out some sniffling from your daughter, unusual since she was usually so cheerful.
Sukuna grabbed his mailbox key so he had a purpose for stepping outside and slipped some shoes on before going into the hallway.
"Morning, neighbor," you managed cheerfully and Sukuna looked down to see that your daughter had tears on her face. The sight had his hackles up immediately.
"Are you all okay?" He tried to sound nonchalant and he wondered if it worked as you wiped away some of your daughter's tears.
"We're okay, it's just," you paused here and looked at your daughter. "Her dad was going to take her to the aquarium but something came up and he's not going to make it. I know he's really disappointed he can't go." The touch of anger in your eyes made him think that this was you just trying to make your daughter feel better.
Sukuna had been planning to wait a little longer, to build more of a rapport with you before trying anything, but he couldn't just see you or your kid look like this over some loser who couldn't be a real man for his family.
"Well I don't see why that means we can't go to the aquarium," he said and he finally got the kid to stop crying for a second and look up at him.
"We don't have a car and it's over two hours by subway," you said reluctantly and Sukuna couldn't contain his sly grin.
"I have a car, and I wouldn't mind taking you. If that's okay with you, of course."
"Yes, yes, yes, can we go mommy, please?" Sukuna had never heard your toddler say so much before and you bit your lip before looking back at him. Sukuna could barely keep his eyes off your mouth but he knew if he looked he'd kiss you and this wasn't the place for it.
"Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to do it, sweetheart." You blushed a little at that and looked down at your daughter.
"Alright bug, we can go. But make sure you tell Mr. Ryomen thank you."
"Thank you, Mr. Ryomen," your daughter echoed dutifully and he knelt down to ruffle her hair.
"No need to thank me, and I told you, you can both just call me Sukuna."
"Thank you, Sukuna." Sukuna really wanted to kiss you. But he knew that if he did it now it would ruin this perfect chance for you to see what he could be for you, for both of you.
You bring out a car seat that you have in your apartment and you show Sukuna how to install it. Sukuna pays attention because he plans on going on many more trips with the two of you. Maybe the car seat can even just stay here(not yet, not yet, not yet he keeps telling himself).
He encourages you to choose the radio station you listen to on the way over and you choose a throwback station that has you and the kid singing along to. It's nice and warm and Sukuna knows every person he's ever met would be baffled at the scene but it feels too fucking right to care.
He pays once you get there, waving off your protests and you spend all day looking at the exhibits. When you get to the pool where you can pet the stingrays, he lifts your daughter up so she can reach them and shows her how to hold her fingers so the animals will come up to her. He can feel your gaze on him, but this isn't even just for you. The more time he spends with your daughter, the more he feels like she's supposed to be his too.
Finally though, the toddler being a toddler gets hangry and you all stop at the cafe for a light lunch. He watches as you try to persuade your daughter to have some fruit in addition to the cookie she has her eye on and Sukuna pops some of the grapes in his mouth with an exaggerated noise of pleasure, making mini-you copy him.
"Thanks," you tell him as you watch your daughter finish up her fruit. "It was one thing when it was just the vegetables she didn't like but now she's got beef with fruits and I'm worried she's going to end up with scurvy."
"No problem, happy to help." and the thing is, Sukuna is happy to help. He remains happy as you finish going through the aquarium. When your daughter gets too tired, he picks her up and carries her so you can make your way back to your car.
"All tired out, bug," you say, affectionately rubbing her back. He hoists her up higher on his hip as you enter the lobby when an older woman stops you.
"Such a beautiful family you have here," she says waving at the sleepy toddler on Sukuna's hip and he nods as you blush.
Neither of you speak about it, but he wonders if it's on your mind as much as his on your way back to your apartment building. He lets you say your goodbyes as the sleeping girl on your shoulder drools in her sleep.
When Sukuna enters his apartment he leans back against his door and just lets the warmth of the day wash over him. He had known before what he wanted, but now he felt almost desperate.
His days spent in this quiet apartment alone were numbered, and he was going to make sure you knew his intentions as soon as possible.
After all, he still had your car seat.
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livingemkayde · 10 months
Text
waterfront
neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader
Tumblr media
Warnings: Rated 18+. CONSIDER THIS YOUR FUCKING COMMUNITY LABEL LOL. Minors please dni. Smut. unprotected p in v. age gap. Pet names. Dirty talk. Dom!joel. Oblivious ass reader's dad. Not proof read one bit (per usual). 
a/n: thank you so much for the recent love. you guys are honestly so funny - COMMENT ASK REQUEST PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME IM SO LONELY ON HERE. this lil mini series has really pushed me to write despite some…things (and by things—i actually have been getting a shit ton of hate on my din fic for some weird reason?? so im really happy this dbf corner of tumblr is very accepting cuz that was really making me feel…SAD LMFAO). also do you guys picture joel in this fic as game joel or hbo joel - i wanna know. please enjoy this token of my gratitude as always. 
wc: 4.5k
this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:
part i part ii
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars.  “That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 
“Sweetie? Have you seen the sunblock?” 
“Yeah dad, in the back bathroom!” you yell back from your room. 
It’s honestly unbelievable. 
Packing. 
You’re packing. 
For a weekend getaway at some beach house property one of Joel’s client’s offered him for the weekend.
Joel’s client. 
Joel Miller.
Who got down on his knees for you at your graduation barbecue. Who fingered you in the front seat of his pick-up truck when your dad was looking for you. 
Who refused to talk to you after that. Not like you were trying anyways. This had to stop. Especially since you and Liam have been talking more and he’s…nice. Boring—sure. But he’s what’s good for you. 
He even got you a job at some hardware store on the other side of town. 
Liam was keeping you company—no—keeping you busy. But not enough to stop the incessant thoughts of your middle aged neighbor who is—even worse—probably your dad’s only close friend. 
You tried to keep your distance. For your sake and Joel’s. You don’t want to know what’s going on in his mind anymore. All you know is he continually runs laps around yours. 
You can’t shake how he looked at the barbecue. How the sea of people parted for him like he was Moses, greeting him with strong handshakes and acrylic nails wrapping around his bicep. But even worse, you can’t stop thinking about how through all those people—he found your eyes first. 
You tried to convince yourself that maybe Joel was thinking the same thing you were. That this—whatever it is—was actually fucking ridiculous and had to stop. 
Because it did have to stop. But it never felt ridiculous to you, as much as you will yourself to believe. 
You tried to convince yourself that much when your hand was down your pants in the middle of the night. Something sounding a lot like Joel’s name on the tip of your tongue as you made yourself come. 
You aren’t sure if your dad has seen much of him either—saying something about how he was booked through the fourth of July weekend with a huge project he was working on with his brother. 
That’s why you were shocked when your dad came up to your room with a grin explaining he counted you in on the weekend getaway with Joel, Sarah, and the two of you. 
You were excited to see more of Sarah — she had really grown up in the time you were away. But with Sarah comes Joel, and you aren’t sure if the butterflies in your stomach were from anxiety or anticipation at that thought. 
A half a day after your dad told you to get packing, you’re in the backseat of Joel’s truck, Sarah at your side, while she talks everyone's ear off about something. You aren’t really paying attention because Joel can’t stop stealing glances at you in the rear view mirror—and let's be honest. You can’t stop either. 
“—so then she said to me that it was my fault. I mean can you believe that?” Sarah slaps your arm gently while finishing her story. 
She looks around the car for approval and the dads just shrug their shoulders. You give her a sympathetic look. 
“Sorry Sarah, sounds crazy,” you say, grabbing her hand. You—honest to god—tried to pay attention but there were so many names thrown out you couldn’t keep up. It didn’t help that the man in the driver's seat kept you up at night—almost every night—since the barbecue. 
“I know! But then Jackson was like okay with it so whatever,” she gives you a knowing look, finishing her story—don’t say anything else because my dad’s here.
“Boys,” your dad murmurs to Joel under his breath, but you catch it. 
You also catch Joel shaking his head in response, letting out a huff and a—
“Tell me ‘bout it.” 
You meet his eye through the rear view mirror and drop his gaze quickly. His knuckles go white on the steering wheel. 
You think you’re almost off the hook and maybe can get some rest but Sarah lets out the first of many—
“Are we almost there yet?” 
Four more of those and you arrive at a secluded beach house on the coast. Joel pulls up to the back of the house, you can see the deck which leads down to the beach. Sarah and your dad hop out of the truck hastily—excited to see the house, and enter through the back door. It leaves you and Joel in the car together. Alone, for a few uncomfortable seconds until he finally speaks. 
“You alright?” 
It throws you for a loop. Joel Miller asking if you’re okay? You must be dying. You look at him through the mirror, an eyebrow raising. 
“‘M fine,” you reply back, monotone.
“Do you wanna talk?” 
Another surprise. 
“There’s nothing to talk about. You made that clear,” you huff, putting an emphasis on you so maybe he can start to feel an ounce of what you do. 
He gets out of the car but you don’t move from your position. Your dad and Sarah have disappeared into the house, undoubtedly claiming the best bedrooms and rifling through the owner’s things. 
He opens your door, his hand hanging off the top of it while his other braces himself on the car near your head. He dips his head closer to you, taking up the entirety of the door frame. 
“You gonna be a brat this whole trip?” His drawl, rich and velvety, almost tricks you into leaning up to kiss him, but you snap out of it from his words. The name shouldn’t make you clench your thighs together like it does. You opt for anger over letting him see what he does to you.
“I’m the brat?” You bite back. He’s not going to do this again. If it’s your last dying wish, Joel Miller will learn a lesson this trip. For leaving you high and dry. For being a fucking asshole, just like you told him at the barbecue a couple days ago.
“You think parading that lil boy ‘round here s’okay?”
“Again with Liam? It’s not any of your business.” 
You look at him. Really look at him—and there’s a certain emotion behind his eyes you can’t place. Like he’s biting his tongue, and you know he is.
“What, Joel? God,” you say, exasperated. 
“Nothin’—I—” he pauses like he’s trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. Then he says something that surprises you—like maybe he really does care about you and what happened in his truck. 
“He make you laugh?” 
You stare at him, shocked, and you can’t help but soften your gaze. You feel like bursting into a puddle of tears—but what’s even worse—you feel like running into his arms. 
“He doesn’t make me cry.” 
He looks down at that. Like he’s defeated. 
“I told you I care,” he throws his words back in your face. From when he had his tongue buried inside you. 
You roll your eyes. 
“What? You think I want it like this?” He continues when you don’t respond.
“I have no fucking idea what you want.” 
“I want to not be sneaking around behind my friend’s back. Your dad’s back.”
“Didn’t stop you before.”
He pushes off the car at that, putting his hands on his hips while scoffing to himself. You think you catch him mumbling something and before you can bite your tongue you urge him to speak up. 
“Insane,” he grunts.
“Sorry?” 
“I said you drive me fuckin’ insane.” 
You pause at that. Partially because his tone suggests it’s not the typical insane but like he can’t stay away from you. Like you drive him up the walls. Like he can’t stop thinking about you. Maybe even the kind of insane he makes you feel. Maybe it's the same thing he does to you. And you didn’t know you did…anything to Joel. 
“That’s my job,” you reply sarcastically instead of saying something stupid—or something you regret. 
You break his gaze—looking down to unlatch your seatbelt. When your hand goes to click the button, you stay fiddling with it; the latch fails to come out of the buckle. 
“‘S jammed. Need to get a repair,” he reaches over you to unlatch it himself. 
But you don’t get your hand out of the way quick enough and your fingers meet over the button. 
He pauses, you both do. The contact makes your head spin. 
You think he’s going to pull away. An apology is already braced on your tongue but instead of moving or retracting, he tentatively rubs your hand with his thumb instead, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature. 
He’s in your space, and he smells like Joel, and you don’t think the two of you have ever shared a more intimate moment. Not even when his mouth was between your legs. 
You look up at him, hesitant, because you aren’t sure what’s going to be looking back. But he stares at you, his eyes soft. Joel looks down to your lips and back up to your eyes. His brow twitches a bit. You let out soft pants—the peaks of your breasts threaten to ghost against his chest. 
He looks at your lips again and inches closer, starting to duck his head. 
“‘M sorry,” he grumbles in a low, dangerous drawl that shoots right up your spine. 
You don’t think it’s a phrase he says often. You’ve never heard it. It sounds foreign on his lips, especially when they’re inching closer to yours. 
“For what?” You squeak out, a breath cutting through your words. 
“Everythin’.” 
Your eyes urge him to continue. 
“Thought I could stay away f’m you.” 
He gets closer. 
“Thought it was the right thing.” 
You shake your head. 
“But I don’t think I can stay away.” 
“Don’t stay away. Don’t go,” you plead with him and shake your head. All of your plans to make him pay have honestly gone out the window. But when he says things like that and he really—honest to god—means them? You know you’re fucked. 
“'M here.” 
You close your eyes at his words and will your tears back when they close. All you can smell is Joel and all you can feel is his hand coming up to loosely wrap around your throat, the curve of his palm hugging your collar bone. 
“Look at me.” In a blink, you do. 
He’s closer, if possible. 
And he kisses you. It’s the first time he’s ever kissed you. It’s not tentative, or aggressive.
This kiss feels like the real apology. Not him on his knees for you and then ignoring you after. He kisses like he’s willing you to forgive him. You know he’s not good with words—that’s why this kiss feels like the heartbreak that had settled in your chest is scattering. It feels like your old fantasies and butterflies breaching the surface are making you moan into his mouth. 
He kisses you like a man starved, but also like he’s scared of messing up again. 
It feels fucking good—he feels fucking good. 
His hand on your throat lengthens your neck to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his bicep and squeeze the life out of him. 
His other hand pulls at the hem of your shirt and almost ghosts the skin of your stomach but the sound of a door slamming snaps you both out of it. Joel turns to see Sarah pushing out of the patio door with her back turned towards you, carrying towels and a cooler. He quickly unbuckles your seatbelt with dexterous fingers, helping you out of the car.
You act like you were helping him unload the flatbed when Sarah turns around—a big smile cast on her face.
“Get your bikini on! Let’s go!” She looks at you and nods towards the ocean over her stack of beach supplies. 
“Alright, alright, I’m going.” 
You hustle into the house with a duffle slung over your shoulder. You can see your dad in the kitchen rifling through the pantry—the cooler for drinks and food abandoned on the floor near the fridge. 
You find a bathroom and change into your swimsuit quickly. You don’t miss the wet spot on your panties. From a kiss nonetheless. You’re beginning to think you’re way more fucked than either you or Joel like to believe. 
You rush out onto the patio. Sarah is probably shoulder deep in the water and it’s way too fucking hot to be sitting under the sun without taking a dip. You haven’t been to a nice beach like this in a really long time. You don’t remember the last time you went on vacation. 
This is nice.  
Joel is being way too…nice. 
You pass him on the way to the beach where you see Sarah jumping through the water. He looks at you, subtly. Out of the corner of his eye. You try to avoid his gaze and hide your blush but you can feel his burning eyes shift to the back of your head as you give him a small smile in passing. 
“Dad! C’mon let's go!” Sarah yells from the water. You look to see Joel staring back at you—you drop his eye when your dad busts through the door. 
“‘N a minute!” Joel grumbles as he throws his duffle over his shoulder, carting in a crate of barbecue things for the weekend. 
Your flip flops splat on the deck as you break into a small jog down to where Sarah is. She smiles at you as you run into the water. The two of you playing in the salty spring like teenagers—well she is—you aren’t. 
You can see your dad and Joel settle on beach chairs some yards away from the shoreline. They sport a couple beers and talk amongst themselves while watching you and Sarah play in the water. 
You catch Joel’s eye a couple times. He even comes down and throws around a football with your dad. He splashes and teases you all day. 
When the sun finally extends down to the horizon and the water turns orange from its light, Sarah tells you she’s beat and basically hobbles back over to the dads on the beach chairs. She slumps down onto the one next to Joel, you move towards them as well, trying not to blush because you know Joel is looking at you before you meet his eyes. 
“Tired?” Joel asks, not to you or Sarah in particular, but it falls on you—Sarah already asleep on the beach chair. 
“Exhausted.” You plop down on the chair beside your dad, taking a towel and drying your hair off before moving to the rest of your body. 
“Want dinner? I’ll make my burgers,” your dad inquires, beginning to stand and take the beers with him. 
“Sounds good dad.” You stand and wrap the towel around your body. “Need a shower.”
You try to wake Sarah up gently, she grumbles and stalks off to the house, you, trailing behind her. She kicks her flip flops off at the entrance and moves to the couch in the living room. She’s back asleep before you get the chance to enter the door. 
Your dad moves to the kitchen, you don’t know where Joel went. Maybe you left him back on the beach. You move to take a cold shower, the small tug in your stomach grew to be quite big when you caught him staring at your exposed skin on the beach. 
When you get upstairs, you enter your designated bedroom. You smile when you realize it has a bathroom attached to it. You strip off your bathing suit, putting it in the sink of your bathroom. 
You wrap a towel around your body and go to twist the knob of your shower. When you tug it towards hot it comes off the shower wall with a chink and you curse to yourself, the water coming out in a leak rather than a stream. 
You huff. This is not what you need right now. 
“Dad!” You call from the doorway of your bedroom—not wanting to venture further in just a towel. 
You turn away from the door—moving into the bathroom, trying to chance figuring out how to fix it instead, when a pair of footsteps fall by your bedroom door. 
“You okay?” A voice calls from your bedroom, but it’s not your dads. 
You jump at the sound of a honey rich southern drawl echoing your name as Joel pushes through the bathroom door to find you in your towel, holding the shower handle.
“Jesus—” he looks away with a cough, you can tell he’s shocked to see you in just a towel. But when he sees you holding the handle he does a double take. 
“What the hell did y’do?” He flips between giving you privacy and moving toward you with an outstretched hand, taking the shower handle into his own. 
“I just tried to turn it on and it snapped off,” you try to reason with him, a flush coming to your cheeks when he comes into the bathroom. 
“Move,” he grumbles, sneaking by you. In the brief moment you come chest to chest, you look up at him and he lets out a groan. His hand snakes by your waist. He looks down at you—a dangerous look in his eyes. 
Joel breaks first, moving towards the shower. 
“I’m gonna—yeah—just…uh thanks,” you gesture to your towel and shut the door to the bathroom behind you. Leaving Joel in there alone. 
You throw on an oversized t-shirt and underwear before he comes out, sans shower handle. 
“Thanks,” you mumble, suddenly self conscious you didn’t have time to put on pants. You aren’t sure why. Joel’s seen…a lot already. 
“‘Course,” he says, but doesn’t leave like you anticipated. 
“You havin’ fun?” He asks. There’s something in his tone that suggests he doesn’t actually care. 
“Yeah,” you reply, breathless, “Thanks for inviting us.”  
“sorry—I—” he points to the bathroom, “thought you were in trouble or somethin’.” 
“‘S’okay.” 
He looks at you, and down to your bare legs, your underwear just peeking out from beneath your shirt’s hem. 
The way Joel looks at you—like you’re the only one who matters—stokes the fire growing in your stomach. The look in his eyes tells you he’s still wrestling with his moral compass. Like he needs to stay away for his own good, but like he said in the car—he just can’t. 
Joel nods, and steps back like he’s turning to leave. You don’t want him to. You need him. When you take a tentative step toward him, he suddenly breaks into stride in your direction. The dam of fleeting touches and wandering eyes for half a day breaks. He grabs your face in his hands, kissing you hard. His tongue slips to run over your bottom lip and you whine into his mouth. 
Your hands come up to rest on his chest. His, wrapping around your waist while he dips his head to start kissing your neck.
“Joel–” you start, but the feeling of his lips on the sensitive parts of your collarbone punches your breath.
He only hums at that sentiment. 
“Where are we going?” you manage to get out, when he’s tugging you into the bathroom by your wrist, shutting the door behind him. 
“Need to fuck you,” he groans into your ear as he spins you around, so your hips press into the bathroom counter. You can look into the mirror and see your reflection. You look entirely too fucked out from a couple kisses and he looks stone cold. 
“J-Joel—ah—jesus,” you moan when his hand dips to your front and catches your clit through cotton. 
“Say please,” he groans into the skin of your neck. You turn your head to catch his lips in a chaste kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, but you don’t mind either way. He’s close, he’s here and he’s kissing you. 
You break away from the kiss just enough to whine out a small, “Please–fuck–”
You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but you know if that’s what he wants—you’d give him anything in this particular moment. 
“Nicer.” 
You whine, the pad of his finger catches your clit just right.
“Please, Joel,” you cut out through bated breath. 
He huffs, you can hear the sound of clinking and shuffling behind you—the tell tale sign of his belt coming undone. 
“Alright, baby, c’mon,” he pushes you down, folds you in half, your breasts pressed against marble. It's cold, and his hot hands on your waist, snaking down to slot his fingers in your underwear makes you dizzy. 
“You’re a tease,” he groans when he eases your underwear to the side, the head of his cock catches your clit.
“Joel—p—fuck—” His cock catches at your entrance. You both pause for a second, reveling in the feeling. One of his hands grips your waist so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises by dinnertime. The other pushes your face down—fingers tangling in your hair. 
“Look in the mirror,” he growls, lifting your head up by your hair, just enough so you can watch his face as his tip slips past your entrance. 
He stretches you out just from that, you muffle down a scream in your throat. 
Joel’s mouth goes slack but he doesn’t react much with his face. He just looks down at your bodies connecting and pants while he slowly slides home. 
“‘S big Joel. Feel so good—oh my god—” he breaks you open and splits you in two. His breath cuts somewhere behind your head—your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. 
He buries himself to the hilt, you curse and mutter inconsistencies into the bathroom. His iron grip on your body goes tighter if possible. 
“Eyes open,” he growls behind you. “You can take it baby, c’mon.” 
You will open your eyes, focusing on him in the mirror. He has a sheen of sweat already casing his forehead, his shirt is half unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 
“Relax, angel,” he pants. “You’re squeezing me — could barely get it in,” 
He settles there, you try to relax but the stretch makes you squirm underneath him. He lets you adjust to his length, cursing every time you clench around him. It’s filthy. Obscene. He’s pushing your head up — lifting you by your hair, so you can see him spear into you with no remorse. He’s filthy, and so are you. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars. 
“That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 
“More please,” you whine, meeting his eye in the mirror. The air is thick in the bathroom now, the potpourri on the sill of the window doesn’t really mask much of anything. 
He complies—surprisingly. Moving faster and harder, each push of his hips knocks you into the counter. The grip on your waist gets impossibly tight. The hand pulling at your hair finally lets you rest back down on the counter, pushing hair out of your face when you look back at him. It rests on the back of your neck. 
“Feel so good baby,” he groans. 
“Joel—I’m—I can’t, I’m gonna—” 
“C’mon angel, come for me,” he says, you take another peak at him through the mirror. He looks wrecked. But you look even worse. 
You get impossibly tight around him while he mutters things you can’t hear over the ringing in your ears. You think you hear him toss out a small that’s right when you finally spill over the edge. 
He fucks you through it, his pace doesn’t let up, the coldness of the counter brings you back to reality. Where his breaths are becoming groans and pants and he strokes your cheek with his thumb. 
“‘Nother,” is all he says when your tight walls finally relax, molding to him and only him. 
“I–I can’t—” you say, slumped against the counter. You sound cock drunk. It’s halfway true though. No one else has ever made you come twice in one night. You were starting to think it might be a myth. 
“Know you can, pretty girl,” he goes slow at that, angling down so the tip of his cock catches something inside you that lights the fire again. “There we go. ‘S okay, can feel it already.” 
He pushes you towards another orgasm, it washes over your entire body and you slump against the counter. Maybe it’s some sort of weird trance he has you in. Or maybe you were right and this — whatever it is — is getting bad. Fast. You’re threatening to fall. But he’s there, and he picks you up and holds you down. 
“Jesus. Fuck, baby,” he curses into your skin when your release coats his cock and lets him sink deeper, thrust faster, push harder. 
“Joel—fuck. Fuck.” Maybe the overstimulation should be getting to you, but you stay there like that, as he speeds up and his thrusts become more frantic. He chases after his own orgasm. 
“Turn over,” he says, hastily. His hands move at your body before you can process his words. He flips you around and slots himself in between your legs—sliding back in deep, grinding into you while folding over so his head is in the crook of your neck. 
“Please,” you whimper. You both know what you’re asking for. But he pulls out, ripping your shirt up and spilling all over your stomach and breasts. It coats you, the liquid hot and he dips his head to watch it coat your body. He lets out a strangled string of curses, bracing himself on the counter as he comes. 
He kisses you. Really kisses you. You grab his face and moan into it. Like you’re willing him to stay there, in between your legs forever. 
But he breaks first, moving to grab a towel out of the cabinet above the toilet. He cleans you up gently, wetting the towel with warm water before it touches your skin. The sentiment could make you cry. 
When he’s done cleaning you up, he kisses your forehead. Joel wraps his arms around you as you sling yours over his shoulders. He holds you there, his hand coming to cup the back of your head, stroking your hair and breathing hot kisses into your crown. You smile, lazily. 
He pulls back just enough to look at you. You know you still look wrecked and are in desperate need of a shower—he looks perfect by contrast, completely untouched and definitely unbothered. 
“Dangerous,” he mutters when you look at him through your lashes. 
You kiss him instead of responding.
You know Joel's right—this is dangerous. 
But it feels way too good to stop. 
_
part iv
taglist! (comment or message me if you would like to be added) kisses to you all:
@nostalxgic @iluvurfather
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guccifrog · 1 month
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NANNY 🍡
matt sturniolo X f!reader
summary : The Sturniolos found it increasingly difficult to raise their brother, Matt's daughter especially since they were all boys, hiring a nanny seemed like the best solution, your slight obsession with money and the pay they were offering was too good not to apply, but little did you know that your bond with the dad would become more than just professional.
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part 1
"Evelyn!"Chris shouted into the hallway of the Sturniolos' house, where Evelyn could be heard giggling from the other side of the door. She was always playing hide-and-seek with her uncles, and it seemed like it was her favorite game. Today, however, Chris had a more important task at hand: getting his niece to put on a pair of pants. 
But it was not an easy task. Chris had been trying to get Evelyn to wear pants for the past thirty minutes, and every time he thought he had her cornered, she would somehow wriggle free and run off to hide again.
 He sighed, rubbing his forehead as he considered his options. He knew that he couldn't chase her around the house all day, and he was starting to feel irritated.
"Evie? come out sweetheart, I'll let you play with my hair, don't you love braiding my long hair?"Chris winced, as he remembered how Evelyn had almost made him bald once, trying to braid his hair. But, he had to try something. He heard a tiny giggle from the other side of the door and waited, hoping that she would come out. 
Then it hit him. He remembered a little trick that always works. Candy. If he gave Evelyn some candy, she would probably be distracted enough to let him help her put on the pants. Grinning to himself, he hurried to the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards until he found a bag of her favorite chocolates. He returned to the hallway, clutching the bag in his hand.
"Evie! Hey, Evie, come here for a second," Chris called, trying to sound casual. When Evelyn finally poked her head out from under the coffee table where she'd been hiding, she flashed him a big grin. "I've got something special for you," he said, holding up the bag of chocolates. Her eyes lit up, and she skipped over to him, her little hands already reaching for the treat.
"Treats!" she exclaimed, taking a few pieces and stuffing them into her mouth. As she chewed happily, Chris took the opportunity to kneel down beside her and gently slip the pair of pants onto her little legs. "Don't tell your dad, okay?" he said, sighing in relief as he finally buttoned her pants. Evelyn nodded, her mouth full. She had never been so happy to wear pants before.
As Chris stood up, he noticed Nick, walking into the room, his eyes glued to his phone. "Are you guys done?" he asked, looking up and, noticing the half-eaten candy in Evelyn's hand. But before Chris could respond, Nick's expression turned sour. " Chris what the hell are you doing?!" he whispered-yelled. "Giving her candy!? she had like three bags this morning!"
"Shut up, Nick," Chris hissed back, "I was just trying to get her to wear some pants." He looked at Evelyn, who was still munching on the candy, Nick rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Chris. sighed, turning to Evelyn, ready to take the rest of the candy away from her. But before he could, An ear-piercing scream filled with terror rang out through the house.
Evelyn had dropped the candy, clutching her hands to her mouth, tears streaming down her face. Chris and Nick exchanged confused glances before rushing to her side. "Evie, what's wrong?" Chris asked, panic rising in his voice. 
"DADDY!" Evelyn screamed, pointing behind them. Chris and Nick turned around to see their brother, Matt, standing in the doorway looking confused. " Chris took my candy!" she cried, pointing accusingly at her uncle.
"Hey!" Chris snapped his head back to his niece" trying to defend himself. "She was the one stuffing her face with it!" Nick chimed in, half-heartedly siding with Chris. "And you had plenty of other candy!" Evelyn, however, was having none of it. She continued to cry, pointing at Chris.
 Matt, looking more confused than ever, stepped into the room. Evelyn walked to his side, making grabby hands at him. "Daddy, Chris is being a meanie," she whined. "He took my candy!"
Chris rolled his eyes. "Oh, my fuck-"
"Chris!" Nick yelled, interrupting whatever was about to come out of his mouth. 
"He's just jealous because he's not as cute as you, Evelyn." Nick sighed hoping she would stop. The little girl smiled up at her uncle and flipped her hair before giving Chris a nasty look.
"Kid I swear to-"
"Chris" Matt warned, raising an eyebrow. "Evie, honey, you know you can't eat all that candy, right?" He asked her. She nodded, still looking a bit upset. "Well, why don't you put the rest of it away for later, and we can find something else for you to eat, okay?" Matt suggested, reaching out to take the rest of the candy from her. She hesitated for a moment but then handed it over to her father.
Chris couldn't help but feel a bit relieved as he watched the interaction between Matt and Evelyn. He glanced at Nick, who looked like he didn't care about any of this. 
Suddenly, they heard a knock on the door.
"I'll get it," Nick said, walking over to the door and opening it. He wasn't expecting anyone, and he definitely didn't expect to see who was standing there. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the beautiful woman before him. She had long, flowing hair that cascaded down her back in waves, and she was wearing a stunning olive green dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. A white lace parasol was draped over her arm. Her eyes were piercing through him, as she smiled coyly. 
"Hello! Is this the Sturniolo household ?" the beautiful woman asked, her voice smooth and melodic.
Nick glanced back at the woman. He cleared his throat and managed to respond, "Yeah, um, yeah, it is. Can I help you?" He asked.
"Nick why is it taking so long?" a voice from behind him asked. He turned around to see his brother, Chris, standing there, looking annoyed, but when he saw who Nick was talking to, his expression changed to surprise and then amusement.
She smiled at him, before turning her attention back to Nick. "I'm here to see Mr.Matthew Sturniolo. Is he around?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her index finger rested on her pursed lips, as she pretended to be deep in thought.
Nick looked at her curiously, before glancing back at Chris. "Um, yeah, he's actually right here," he said, signaling for Chris to call Matt.
"MATT!" Chris shouted, making Nick physically cringe at the volume. His brother rolled his eyes before turning back to the woman. She smiled politely at Nick, her gaze curious and unblinking. 
"what's up ?" Matt asked, walking up behind his brother, and noticing the woman standing at the door. His jaw almost hit the floor.
"Oh, hello there," she said, her voice as smooth as silk. "I'm the new babysitter, the name's y/n." 
"Holy shit..."
"excuse me ?" Y/n raised an eyebrow.
"I said hello" Matt stuttered, clearing his throat as he regained his composure, making Nick snort. 
"I was told I'd be working for the Sturniolo family. You must be the father, Mr.Matthew?" She held out her hand, her posture confident and balanced.
"Ah, yes. Yes, I'm Matt" Matt replied, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. "And these are my brothers, Nick, and Chris" He gestured to the two people who were both staring at the woman with matching smiles.
"Nice to meet you all" Y/n smiled, looking at each of them in turn. "I understand that I'll be taking care of little Evelyn from now on?"
Matt nodded, still a bit taken aback by her presence. He gestured for her to come in, and she walked past them into the house, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor. "Make yourself comfortable"
"Daddy?!" Evelyn's voice echoed through the house, as she ran into the living room, her tiny hands full of toys. She stopped short when she saw the tall woman standing there, and her big blue eyes widened in awe.
"Princess" The little girl whispered, eyes still wide, as she slowly walked towards the new woman. "Who... who are you?" she asked shyly, looking up at her. Y/n knelt down to be at the little girl's level and smiled warmly at her.
"It's nice to meet you, I'm your new babysitter, y/n. I'm going to take really good care of you from now on, okay?" Evelyn nodded slowly, still eyeing her with curiosity. "Would you like to show me some of your toys?" she asked, gesturing to the toys in Evelyn's tiny hands. The little girl's face lit up, and she happily began to show her all of her favorite things.
In the background, Nick and Chris exchanged glances, still in disbelief over the new babysitter. Matt smiled to himself, thinking that she seemed perfect for the job. Not only was He confident that Evelyn would be in good hands with her, but he also couldn't deny that he was enjoying the view.
-taglist: @sleepysturnss @mattestrella @lvr-111 @sturniolhoe @sturniolowhore @thenickgirl @demistyles @freshsturns @b2cute @devouredyou @rizzsturniolo @thebottledwatersupplier @sunsetsturniolos @ariieeesworld @1horrormoviewhore1 @mattslolita @leia-13 @bernardenjoyer @abbybarnesstuff @imwetforyourmom @ava34333 @rootbeerworshiper @mbbsgf @yourfavoriteraye @sturnsssbow @donthugmeimhot @maryx2xx @nttnxxd @sturniolopowers @ivyyyyyysposts @slaysturniolo @whoisgraciet @blahbel668 @rebecca-diary @caitlinn57 @sarmysabrina @sidjfhshxbx @differentavenue @rvavasworld @matt444nixi @buenolover @sluts4matt @emasbloggg @urmomjanyla @chrisloyalgf @speakn0w13 @ilovemattsturn @cupidsword @minaismywife @lovergirl4387 @69isabella69 @slutread3r @mattgirly @ivonchetooo1239 @crybabycat1 @ealf333 @muwapsturniolo @imsosillygoofylol @7tee3n @sturnlova @sturdiii @
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songbirdseung · 2 months
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you again? / park jongseong
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synopsis: fate loves bringing you and jay together, specifically in an airport with same flights and destinations.
pairing: idol!jay x non-idol!yn
first encounter / 8 years old
"honey, help your dad with the bags." it was that time again, your biannual family trip. Summer was here and it was time to unwind and relax.
you hopped out of the car holding your little black cat plushie and ran to the carts near the airport entrance then brought it back to your father. "thank you sweetie" he pats your head and starts unloading the trunk.
as you went through the airport check in, security, and duty free you greeted everyone with a wave and hello, your mom holding your free hand with a smile on her face as she looked at you. "you little sunshine, you really like making friends?" she asked as you reached your gate; you nod enthusiastically.
your eyes still scan the airport with the same glimmer of curiosity and excitement, even if you've been to that airport more than your little fingers could count. you take in the summer decorations and in the midst of that, your eyes land on a boy who you think is the same age as you. taking in his features and glance down at your cat plushie, picking it up so it could be at the same level as the boy's face. you smile and see a resemblance. "mommy, look that boy looks like my kitty cat." she agrees and teases you about your little crush. "i didn't say that" you whine and pout. "oh yeah, if you don't have a crush on him, go talk to him" she chuckles and nudges her husband as they both watch you walk over to the boy.
"hi, im yn. what's your name?" you say as you sit next to him. he pays you no attention as he continues to play with his nintendo ds. his dad notices your presence and gives you a warm smile, he then removes the gadget out of his son's hands. before he could say anything, his dad points in your direction. finally, his eyes meet yours. "she asked you for your name, son" poor boy is so confused and wonders how long you have been sitting next to him. "im..jay"
second encounter / 9 years old
here you were again, at the airport getting ready to go. you were sitting at the airport's many food courts with your parents when you saw him again. even your own parents were shocked when they realized you still remember the boy you met last year, a boy you only talked to for 25 minutes. placing your hot chocolate which would now be forgotten as you ran 4 tables down to where he was.
"jay? my black cat jay? that's you right?" you were met with another warm smile from his parents and a confused stare from jay. "i met you last year and you probably don't remember me but that doesn't matter, it's nice to see you again. you ramble and tug at his long sleeve in excitement. his dad offers you a chair and helps you get up. "i'm sorry about her" your mom says from behind you. only to be reassured that it was fine and they love the interactions.
after jay's parents offered your parents to sit with them and let the two children have fun. (more like you bothering jay for the time being). there was a good 30 minutes that went by when the airport was announcing your flight was boarding. you all bid your goodbyes and as you were leaving, you noticed a plushie next to jay, it was your black cat plush you gave him last year.
third encounter / 9 years old
it wasn't a long wait to see him again, because in a few months. you met him again. this time, he wasn't so reluctant to see or talk to you. this time, he was actually having a great time playing games with you. so much fun that his parents were filming the two of you so later on the plane his parents would tease him and say he has a crush on you. oh, and your parents would do the same.
"isn't it funny how we only see each other at the airport and never anywhere else?"
"yeah, but we meet every year, so i'm not worried to not see you and having fun"
you two innocent souls did not know what would be happening next.
fourth encounter / 18 years old
you sighed for the nth time because you were sitting in the same uncomfortable airport benches. your friend decided it was better to arrive at the airport 4 hours earlier than boarding time. your apartment in seoul was only 20 minutes away from the airport, but for some reason you were here at the airport earlier than you wanted.
to kill time, you were walking around the airport's duty free. distracting yourself from the excruciating time wait. while you were doing so, you noticed a bunch of cameras when you reached back to your gate. you said whatever and walked past to explore the airport you have already been in.
"why can't we go back to our gate, we are definitely not going to have any seats left" your best friend whined as she tried to drag you back to the gate. "who else is going to arrive when our flight is in 3 hours?"
after a few minutes of bickering, you decided to sit down and give your legs and feet a break from all that walking. going back to the gate, you scanned the camera crew and what they were filming, you took notice of seven good looking guys, assuming they were actors or singers. you shrugged and minded your own business and sat back in the seat you and your best friend sat earlier.
putting your headphones on and opening your laptop to watch a movie to kill time. what you failed to notice was one of those seven boys looking at you. jay, noticed you ever since you walked past them the first time. in his eyes and mind, you looked very familiar, despite not seeing each other in 9 years, he remembered you.
debating whether or not to approach you or not, was it okay? did you even remember him. it has been 9 years and you both grown up so much. shortly after, you sensed a person sitting next to you. typically, your younger self would have greeted them but now that you were a young adult, you realized and found out that not all people are nice. so, you sat there in silence, still scrolling on your phone with your headphones in. only for that peace and serenity to be taken away from you when the person next to you took one of your headphones off. "you're not even going to say hi?" it was jay, your black cat.
fifth encounter / 20 years old
today was a little weird. you always found it easy to get through the airport with no problems. but today, you had time to find parking, to get through a crowd that usually was never there. upon reaching the entrance, you noticed so many girls holding up their phones and waiting on someone. you shrug your shoulders, thinking it's just another celebrity going overseas for a work schedule.
either way, you got to your gate and sat at the waiting area near your gate. sipping on your coffee as you replied back to the "safe travels" text you got from your family and friends. as you were watching tiktoks, you stumbled upon a video of jay and his group. it's been two years since the last time you saw him and both of you didn't even think of getting each other's numbers or social medias. but then again you did not want to distract him or get him in trouble if ever.
for some reason, you kind of wished that fate would bring you together again, since it loves to only let you meet him in the airport. so, you were looking out for him.
right on cue, he walks through the airport with his crew. then something hits you, what if you see him and he sees you then he doesn't remember you because he does meet to many people a day and what if you wave at him and thinks you're a fan? so many what if fill you mind that when he finally sees you, you're not looking.
but luckily, you again, have the same flight to germany. he splits from the group and decides to sit next to you despite the manager calling out to him. "you look like you're deep in thought yn" you whip your head, and he chuckles at your shocked expression. "oh, c'mon we always meet at the airport, why you still shocked i'm here?" you nudge him in the shoulder and explain your side.
it felt nice talking to jay, even though you two were both yappers, your dynamic somehow fit together like pieces of a puzzle. "do you still have that cat i gave you when we were 8?"
"you shouldn't be worried of me not remembering you, because that plushie sleeps next to me on my bed."
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lovelybrooke · 3 months
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Since my hazbin hotel concept didn't really go over the characters reactions to the readers dissaperrance, I thought I'd go over it here.
masterlist
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Charlie
Charlie is so, so very sad. She doesn't know what she did wrong, why would you leave? Part of her wonders if it's her, if it's the hotel, maybe she did something wrong and now you're gone.
Charlie devotes all her time into finding you, you have to be somewhere. But after days and days of looking and finding nothing, not even a trace, she starts to feel like it's hopeless.
Charlie switches between intense depression and motivation constantly. She'll spend weeks in her room, alone, only letting Vaggie in. Then, suddenly, she'll burst out and demand that they get on with the search. It's like she's a completely different person, but deep down, everyone can tell that she's racked with guilt.
She just has to find you, she'll even get his dad to help if it comes to it. It doesn't matter, whatever it takes. She just wants to apologize for...whatever she did. Once you're back in the hotel, she'll make everything right, so right that you won't want to leave again.
Vaggie
Vaggie is well...Vaggie. She's conflicted. She doesn't know whether to feel afraid, upset, worried. It's too many emotions to shift through, too complicated. Because of these complicated feelings, she has a hard time being there for Charlie. She want's to help with the search, she really does, but at the same time she doesn't want to have to accept the fact that you truly are gone.
Lucifer isn't even able to find you, Alastor isn't even able to find you. You have to bee somewhere far away to stay out of there reach. The longer you're gone, the longer she's left wondering what made you leave. In your last few days at the hotel you were distant, like mentally. You were incapable of paying attention to anyone or anything, and thinking back on it, she should've known something was up.
She feels ashamed for being so guarded around you, for making it seem like she was weary of you. She was, but the point still stands. You're a nice kid, way too nice to be in hell. Maybe heaven realized that, and sent you back to where you belonged. No--
She won't have that, that isn't right, and it's not fair. It's not fair to Charlie, it's not fair to her, it's not fair to anyone else. You shouldn't just get to dig yourself into everyone in the hotel and then get ripped away when they finally accepted it. It's not fair.
If it was heaven that took you from them, she'll make them pay.
Angel
Angel wants closure.
He gets why you left, he really does. You're too good for this place, for all these people, and so you left, he gets it. What he wants is for you to tell him to his face that it wasn't his fault.
He looks back on his interactions with you, him closing himself off only to welcome you in at the very last moment, the moment where he craved friendship and stability the most, only to then push you away when you needed him. You were struggling, with--something.
Something he has no understanding of. He can't decipher anything behind those blank eyes, he can't figure out what your monotone words mean, and it worries him. He wants to be there for you, offer you comfort, anything.
But he knows he'll just ruin you more. He'll say something, do something, and you'll leave him, you'll hate him. He'll infect you, ruin you, until you're nothing more than a shell of what you used to be, and he hates the thought.
But it doesn't matter now, because even after keeping you at arms length, after depriving himself of you, you still leave, and all he's left with is the pain of not knowing. Not knowing if he did something, if he hurt you, if this is his fault.
But what hurts the most is the pain of not knowing if he could've done something, said something, did anything other than wallow in his own pity and desperation.
Maybe if he did you'd still be here. But he'd never know, would he.
Husk
Husk immediately assumes Alastor is to blame.
That Radio Demon is up to something, he's been gone for days since you left, doing whatever the fuck. He assumes, hopes, that Alastor is looking for you, because if anyones to find you its him. But of course, Alastor tells him nothing. So all he can do is hope.
Hope that you're somewhere safe, somewhere good. He hopes that there's someone nice taking care of you, or that you're at least taking care of yourself. He hopes that you're happy, and healthy, and everything else a kid should be. Because ultimately that's all Husk has, is hope.
He wonders what he could've done, if anything. He wonders what Alastor is going to do, if anything. He wonders what's going to eventually happen when they don't find you, and you're gone, and everyone just has to accept that you're not coming back. He wonders if that's even possible.
Because as a bartender he watches as Angel drink his days away, and as Charlie slaves away with searching for you, and as Vaggie spends all her time in her head.
And when Alastor is at the Hotel, he watches as he converses with Charlie, both of them talking in hushed whispers. He can hear the static, and the screams, and the pleas as Alastor demands to know how you haven't been found. And for a second, he sees worry in Alastor.
And in turn, Husk worries, because if you, and you disappearing, is so easily capable of making Alastor lose his composer, than something must be wrong. If Alastor isn't able to find you, and it's making him worry then it must be serious, it must be real.
But even so, Husk hopes. He hopes you're safe, and happy, and healthy. Because now there's the possibility that you're not coming back, and Husk has nothing left but hope.
Alastor
Alastor knew something was up with you.
From the moment you appeared in Hell, he knew you weren't right. You were too...alive for a demon. You were too naive for someone in Hell. You were too human.
For a while, there was nothing Alastor could do to prove his thoughts and honesty, he didn't want to. It was fun, watching as you stumble about this world completely unaware of what you've gotten yourself into. You're interesting, and you intrigue him. You should be proud, that's not something most can do.
But as your stay in hell lengthens, his feelings for you a mudded. His intrigue is turned into obsession, an obsession for you naivety, for you humanness. It makes him wonder how, or why you're down here. What you must've done to be placed here, even if you are somehow alive.
Alastor hasn't felt like this in a long time, and a part of him despises you for it. He hates the feelings that washes through his chest when he's around you, almost paternal like. He hates the way he faltered when he was told of your disappearance. And he hates the anger that course through him after weeks of not being able to find you.
Alastor looks everywhere, in every corner of Hell for any sign of you, and comes up with nothing, and it enrages him. It's an emotion he's more familiar with, rage, and for some reason hates it.
Because this type of rage is only direct at people who take you from him, this type of rage means you had the gaul to leave him. But this type of rage is the thing motivating him to keep searching and he looks forward to when you back with him.
Because you will be back with him, and the rage will be gone, and instead be replaced with that sweat, unfamiliar obsession that he's come to crave.
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little-diable · 3 months
Text
Darling oh Darling - Cowboy!Jasper Hale (smut)
Yes, I'm in a cowboy mood alright, y'all just have to endure it for a while. But I have to say, I truly love how this turned out, so I think y'all will be able to forgive me for this current fixation. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader works at Carlisle Cullen's ranch, where she crosses paths with one of his sons, a guy who instantly catches her interest.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), quite fluffy, yet filthy
Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2.8k words)
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“You alright there, darlin’?” The man’s voice ripped her out of her thoughts, eyes flickering up to meet his golden ones. Jasper Hale, son of the owner on whose ranch (y/n) was currently working. She hadn’t crossed paths with Jasper yet, had only studied him from a safe distance, feeling an ever-growing respect for the man who handled horses better than anybody else she knew.
“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know how I got them all tangled up.” Her eyes wandered back down to the reins she held, trying to untangle them. His chuckles left her smiling, growing stiff as his cold hand found hers, gently pulling the reins from her grasp. Within seconds Jasper had them untangled, smirking in victory. “How did you do that?”
“Just takes lots of practice, but don’t worry you’ll get the hang of it eventually. (Y/n), is it?” Jasper took off his cowboy hat, combing through his golden locks before he placed the hat back on his head, leaning against the stable door. (Y/n) could only hum, eyes momentarily wandering up and down his frame, trying not to pay the way his clothes fit him all too perfectly any attention, muscles bulging beneath the fabrics. “It’s good to have a face to that name finally, my dad seems to have a soft spot for you.”
“Carlisle’s great, I’m very thankful for everything he’s done for me.” Carlisle and (y/n) had crossed paths at the hospital, sharing details about one another as he had taken a look at her gaping wound. And within a few minutes, she had left his room with a job offer, debating working at his ranch for the summer. Carlisle had given her the ticket out of a toxic household, allowing her to figure out where she truly belonged, and what she wanted to do with the rest of her life – and what better place for a time away from home than a ranch filled with kind people. 
“Well, we’re very happy about having a new helping hand around, especially one that’s this pretty to look at.” If she had been drinking something, (y/n) probably would have choked on her sip, eyes growing wide at the comment that had just rolled off Jasper’s tongue. She struggled to come up with a reply, not used to hearing words like these from a man who looked as handsome as Jasper, but she was saved by the call of his name, forcing him away from her with a quiet “See you around, darlin’” leaving him. 
……
“(Y/n)!” Her head whipped towards the meadow, squinting her eyes to look at Jasper, blinded by the bright sun. “Come on over here, darlin’.”
She walked through the high grass, grinning at the guys who were standing close to Jasper, holding onto their horses’ reins. With her hands placed on her waist, she came to a halt close to the grinning man who had called for her, waiting for him to keep on speaking, wondering why he had called her over in the first place. 
“We’re about to go for a ride, Emmett’s desperate for some adventure.” Her eyes found the golden ones of Jasper’s brother, shooting Emmett a quick smile before her gaze flickered back to the brother she found herself drawn to. “You wanna join us?”
“Well, I have no horse.” Jasper’s soft chuckles left her heart skipping beats, trying not to spare the anticipation bubbling inside of her much thought as he reached his hand out for her to take. His cold touch was happily welcomed, biting down her relieved groan at the coldness momentarily distracting her from the heat of the sun. 
“You can ride with me, but I can’t promise we’ll go slow.” She stared up at him with a challenging grin tugging on her lips, slowly shaking her head as she let go of his hand, swinging herself up onto his horse. 
“Don’t worry, I’m not one for taking things slowly.” The other guys shared her chuckles, grinning at the two as Jasper saddled up behind (y/n), wrapping an arm around her waist to press her against his chest.
“Good, we like a good challenge around here, darlin’.” With his heel pressed into his horse’s side, they started riding, chasing after the other guys who had already started riding away from the ranch, through the high grass. (Y/n) tried not to focus on the feeling of Jasper’s muscular front pressing against her back, tried not to focus on the feeling of his middle meeting her behind with every fast trod, unable to focus on the beautiful nature they were racing through. 
Her heart was pounding, fuelled by excitement, finally able to feel that carefree sensation she had been hungry for. She hadn’t felt like this in years, able to let go of her worries, to enjoy the company of people who made her feel safe, people who seemed to genuinely enjoy having her around. 
“You alright, feeling comfortable?” Jasper rasped his words, breath clashing against her neck as he spoke to her, accent growing thicker with every syllable rolling off his tongue. (Y/n) could only hum, leaning further into his grasp, not wanting to escape this closeness anytime soon. She tried not to overthink it, tried not to analyse the way he behaved around her, but yet (y/n) couldn’t help but hope he felt that same pull in his chest, wanting to feel her even closer, even more intimately. 
……
The sound of the crackling wood left her smiling, sinking further into the chair she was sitting on, wrapped up in a warm blanket. They had returned from their ride a few hours ago, splitting up to go shower, feed their horses and finish their jobs for the day before they met here, at the bonfire.
One of the guys had brought his guitar, singing some songs for the group as they enjoyed their beer, whisky, and the company of one another. Jasper was sitting next to her, wearing a big dark jacket that almost swallowed his whole upper body, paired with his dark hat that perfectly sat atop his golden locks. She could watch the reflection of the dancing fire in his pupils, admiring the way his eyes seemed to change colour now and then. 
“Thank you for taking me with you today.” (Y/n) murmured the words towards Jasper, smiling at the man who turned his head towards her, no longer focusing on his brothers. He matched his smile, hand reaching out to grasp hers for a moment, squeezing her fingers. The touch almost left her gasping, still not used to feeling this breathless around Jasper. 
“Of course, thank you for joining us, darlin’. I enjoy having you around.” For a second she could watch his gaze flicker from her eyes to her lips, a second that was over way too soon, wondering if she had only imagined it. Did he feel the same excitement she did? Did he feel the same pull inside his chest? “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I never saw a sky this starry anywhere else.”
He had his gaze now focused on the sky, hand still holding onto hers. (Y/n) allowed herself to study Jasper for another second before she followed his gaze, admiring the stars twinkling for them. The sight had something so calming to it that (y/n) feared she’d never be able to rip her eyes away. Her heart began to slow its beat, distracted by the view she was now focusing on, slowly adjusting to feeling Jasper this close. 
“It is, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” Her whispers made him chuckle, tightening his grip on her as he felt her shudder. She felt him growing tense for just a moment, debating his next move before he murmured her name, forcing her to look at him. 
“C’mon, move over. Carlisle would kill me if I’d let you freeze.” Heat flushed through her as she slowly rose to her feet, chuckling in surprise as Jasper pulled her into his lap, arms wrapped around her. With her face nuzzled into his neck, high on the musky scent of his cologne, she tried to focus on the warmth his big jacket emanated, distracting her from the cool touch of his. 
“Thank you.” The words were murmured against his skin, barely audible, yet Jasper picked up on them all too easily. He rested his chin on her head, grinning at his brothers who raised their eyebrows at him, smirking at Jasper. From the first moment he had spoken to (y/n), Jasper had known that she was destined to be his, belonging to the man who had yet to share the family secret with her, hoping that she wouldn’t run from him and the life he could offer her. 
“Tired?” Jasper felt her growing relaxed in his touch, breaths growing softer. A hum left (y/n), eyes no longer open, clinging to the comfort his closeness offered, luring her further into sleep’s trap. Before she could even realise what he was doing, Jasper rose to his feet, arms tightly wrapped around her to carry (y/n) towards the house. She was too tired to protest, allowing Jasper to step into the room she was staying in, placing her down on her bed. 
“Will you stay?”
……
A groan ripped through (y/n) as her eyes fluttered open. It took her eyes a second to focus, breath hitching in her chest. Jasper was lying next to her, one arm wrapped around (y/n)’s waist, the other placed behind his head. His chest was bare – just the sight shot shudders down her spine, slowly remembering how she had asked him to stay. 
“Morning, darlin’.” His golden eyes met hers, grinning at the way she clearly struggled to speak up, tongue running along her lower lip, heavily swallowing before she murmured a soft “Morning”. Jasper’s chuckles vibrated through his body, he tightened his grip on her, allowing his free hand to cup her cheek, “Now, don’t grow all shy on me.” 
“Sorry.” (Y/n) didn’t know what to say, not daring to look away as she felt his thumb on her lip, softly stroking her skin. The touch left her shuddering, silently praying that he’d close the gap between them. And with a smile tugging on Jasper’s lips, he seemed to answer her prayer, softly kissing her, giving (y/n) a chance to pull away before he’d deepen the kiss.
But she kept close, hands getting tangled in his locks, gasping against his mouth as he shifted them around, hovering over her. His tongue found hers as his hands disappeared beneath her shirt, exploring her soft skin, momentarily freezing before he found her breasts. He pulled away from her, leaving (y/n) whimpering at the sudden loss, “Tell me if you want me to stop, don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, darlin’.”
“Touch me, Jasper, fuck, been thinking of this for way too long.” The words she spoke left Jasper groaning, lips finding hers again as his hands cupped her breasts, tugging on her hardening nipples. He shifted around, and pressed his knee against her clothed heat, giving her just enough friction to coax a moan out of her, begging him for more. 
“Been thinking of this too, fucked my hand to the thought of you every single morning these past days.” Jasper’s raspy voice made her drip, grinding her core against his thigh in a desperate need for more friction, needing to feel his fingers closer to her cunt. “Such an eager girl, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” 
With the fabric of her shirt pushed up to her chest, Jasper kissed his way down her stomach, moving further down the mattress to rest between (y/n)'s thighs, slowly pulling her damp panties down her legs. He looked at her with lust laced in his gaze, eyes darker than ever before, forcing her blood to sing in her ears at the mere sight of Jasper. 
His warm breath clashed against her cunt, eyes meeting hers as he sucked on her pulsing bundle, tongue brushing through her arousal-covered folds for a first taste. Jasper had his arms wrapped around her legs to keep her close, not daring to give (y/n) a chance to move away just yet, set on pushing her over the edge with his tongue before he’ll fuck her.
“I can’t wait to feel you clenching my cock, already so tight around my fingers.” Jasper’s words left (y/n) moaning in excitement, arching her back off the mattress at the feeling of his fingers fucking her, nudging her swollen spot. “Talk to me darlin’, tell me what you need.”
“Just you, fuck, just need you, your fingers, your cock, everything.” The devilish grin Jasper shot her left (y/n) breathless, tightening her grip on her covers as his mouth found its way back to clit. He heard her breaths growing shallow, walls fluttering around his fingers, about to cum with his name rolling off her tongue.
The view had something awfully obscene to it, with him resting between her quivering thighs, pupils fully dark, mouth pressed against her cunt. She was dripping for him, making a mess on the covers, on his mouth that devoured her as if she was his last meal. Without another warning, (y/n) felt her orgasm rocking through her, more violently than any other had ever taken over her system, close to passing out. Heavy pants left her, ripping through her as the sensation kept clinging to her, only allowing her to rest as he slowly pulled away from her. 
“Heaven, you’re a sight for sore eyes, darlin’, I’ve never seen something this pretty. I can’t wait to ruin you with my cock.” He pressed a kiss to her swollen lips, chuckling at the excited whimper ripping through (y/n). She tried to wrap her aching thighs around his waist, keeping him close as Jasper shuffled out of his underwear, exposing his twitching cock to her wide eyes. 
“Want to feel all of you, I‘m on the pill, just take me bare, please.” Jasper didn’t comment on the way he didn’t need to use a condom anyways, grinning down at her as he spat into his palm, lubing his aching cock. Their eyes held contact as he pushed into her, groaning loudly at the feeling of her tight walls clenching him. 
Her eyes fluttered close, head pressed further into the pillow to fully focus on the feeling of his calculated, ruthless thrusts. Jasper didn’t hold back, he fucked her into the mattress with a strength that would leave her bruises for weeks. She kept choking on his name, fingernails scratching at his skin, trying to keep herself from cumming too fast, already close to letting go once again.
“Such a pretty sight, wish I could wake up to this every single morning.” Their eyes met for a brief moment, a moment she used to give him a slight push, rolling on top of Jasper. He stared up at her with a smirk, helping her ride him. “Take what you need, such a greedy girl.”
“Need it so bad, don’t let me go, Jas’.” He was mesmerised by the sight of her, allowing one hand to wander up her body, exposing her chest to his hungry eyes. (Y/n) momentarily stopped moving to pull the fabric over her head, fully bare for him and his wandering eyes. Curses rolled off Jasper’s tongue at the sight, hips jerking to meet her movements, needing to push her over the edge. 
She struggled to keep up her pace as the welcomed sensation crawled up her body once again, gasping as Jasper flipped them around once again, fucking her through her high. He watched her fall apart beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, chest heaving. It was a sight he’d never forget, forever remembering their first morning together. 
Jasper came a few seconds later, groaning (y/n)’s name into the crook of her neck, giving it a few more lazy thrusts. For a few moments, they kept quiet, simply holding one another, enjoying the blissful state they were trapped in. Only as Jasper slowly pulled away did (y/n) allow her eyes to flutter open, matching the smile he wore on his lips. 
“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while.” (Y/n) whispered her words, hiding her face behind her hands as Jasper broke out in laughter.
“Good, means I’ve done everything right. But don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you escape this room anytime soon anyway.”
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finsplurtz · 3 months
Text
nobody’s home — choso.kamo
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— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Choso Kamo
— contents : step-cest , touching w/o consent uh oh , Choso tries to tell yn to stop but gives in bc he loves the feeling , handjob , biting n hickeys , mention of virginity loss n Choso does cry abt it , does change his mind abt it nd ends up rlly liking it , praises n degrading lolll
warnings : step cest obv , maybe.. r4pe implications not sure wtv
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✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮
Choso’s mother had divorced his father and she found a boyfriend who already had a kid.
The first time they met was … interesting. He got home from hanging out with some friends, he greeted his mom and step-dad, went into the bathroom and quickly backed out closing the door.
He covered his face, he had walked in to some guy shirtless in the bathroom. He went to ask his mom and she told him that, yn, was his new younger brother.
When they saw each other after that he apologized.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to you know…” yn smirked checking the guy out while he wasn’t looking.
“It’s cool, we’re both guys. Nothing to be embarrassed about” He flashed a smile before leaving to his room.
Yn was younger than Choso by 3-4 years.
Choso definitely caught onto the subtle hints that yn was throwing his way. Yn would sometimes invite him to watch a movie or something, he’d get super cuddly and touchy.. like have his arm wrapped around his waist or have his hand slowly massage his thigh.
Sometimes when they’d be out yn would insist on buying Choso a drink, or even smoking together or something, but he always found a way to make it sound intimate.
Maybe Choso was going crazy.. maybe yn was just really trying to have a nice sibling bonding moment and Choso was taking it the wrong way..
Okay enough of turning yn’s offers down, he definitely just wants to be close brothers.
“Hey, ‘oso. Mom and dad wanted to ask you something” yn popped into Choso’s room and went over to sit on his bed and handed him the phone. Usually his parents called on yn’s phone, since sometimes Choso doesn’t answer cs he’s busy studying or sleeping.
“Hey hon, just wanted to let you know we won’t be home till very late! It’s our 1 year anniversary and we have a lot planned” Choso hummed while yn took whatever book Choso was reading and skimming thru it.
He sighed and put the book back. Gently pulled Choso down towards the bed and cuddled him. Choso was still listening to his mom talk and talk but he wasn’t paying attention. His heart was pounding in his chest.
yn had his leg over Choso’s waist and arm over his chest. Choso could feel yn’s warm breath on his neck, his lips were an inch away from Cho’s skin.
Finally his mom ended the call and Choso was frozen.
“…uh…here’s your phone..” He said.
“Just put it on the counter or something” yn said in a low voice right under Choso’s ear. “….what are u doing”
“…nobody’s home, oso..~” Choso could practically hear yn’s smirk.
“Have you ever touched a guy..?” his hand gently massaged over Choso’s chest.
“…n-no…yn I- I don’t think this is…” Choso pushed yn’s arm away and managed to sit up.
“Mm..awww cmon.. we’re alone, nobody can walk in on us..” yn looked at his half brother with low eyes.
“S..still it’s just..w-wrong—“ Choso flinched when he felt yn tightly wrap his arm around Choso’s waist to keep him from squirming and dug his hands into Choso’s pants.
“y-yn..?! S..stop I don’t…!” His breath hitched when yn began to stroke him. Choso’s nails were digging into yn’s arm trying to squirm away or something. yn rested his chin on his brother’s shoulder and continued to fap him.
“Ngh..! Mhhnn…~ s….stop..” Choso was panting and subconsciously grinding his hips into his brothers hand. He threw his head back exposing his neck, yn saw the opportunity and began to kiss and suck on Choso’s pale skin.
“Ahh~ f..fuck…~” Choso’s grip on yn’s arm loosened and he brought one hand up to cover his mouth.
“See…you love it, don’t you…~” yn whispered into the ravenette’s ear. Choso just whined, he didn’t really care anymore. Plus yn had a point, nobody would ever catch them doing this. It’s not like they were even related…
yn sped up his pace and stroked faster while sinking his sharp teeth into Choso’s neck.
“Ah- ah I’m gonna c..come—“ Choso gasped and grabbed onto yn’s hair tightly as he came and made a mess in his briefs. “Fuuuckk…s..so good~” He whimpered as his dick twitched in yn’s hand.
yn slid his arm off Choso’s waist and pulled his pants off along with his underwear. He easily lied him down on the bed and used the finger that had his cum on it to finger him.
“..nnnyooo…d..don’t….” Choso was too dizzy to put up a fight anymore. He just let out more moans and cries when yn found his prostate and massaged his fingers over it.
yn stroked himself, he loved the view. Choso’s pretty little hole being slowly opened by his fingers, just ready to take his cock..
yn pulls his fingers out and quickly pushed himself into Choso earning a gasp and whine from him.
“S-shit..! Y..you…” Choso felt tears welling up in his eyes, he wasn’t sure how to feel….
yn noticed and rolled his eyes. He leaned down to kiss Choso’s cheek.
“Don’t worry….your brother is gonna make you feel good..~” Choso blushed and screamed when said brother began to roughly thrust into him hitting him right in his g spot.
“UGHN-! F-FUCK TOO MUCH..!”Choso felt a tad bit overstimulated, but fuck did it feel good.
“Aww..look at you just taking my cock so well, hm?~ you love it…you love how well your little brother stuffs you, don’t you, prince..~” Choso moaned at yn’s dirty talk, he was so into this. He loved every second of this and he didn’t want it to ever stop.
“Right, Choso..?” He loved how his name sounded in yn’s mouth, he let out a slutty moan and smiled as best as he could.
“Mm..hm..~!” yn smirked and began to kiss Choso’s shoulder and back.
“Such a good little slut..” yn felt himself get close and stuttered in his thrusts.
Choso felt his second orgasm nearing, he gripped the sheets and stuck his tongue out, rolling his eyes back.
“You’re all mine…my stupid toy..just for me to fuck, m…mkay..~?” Yn said into Choso’s ears pushing him over the edge.
“Mhnn-!!” Choso bit his tongue as he came one more time making a mess of his sheets. A smile creeped on his face at the feeling of yn’s hot semen coat his warm mushy walls in white.
They were both catching their breaths and yn sat up and slick his hair back looking at the art he ..
“……I…I’m sorry, cho’…” He pulled out and turned Choso on his back who just looked at him. Choso had drool and tear stains on his face, his lips red from biting them.
“I’m…so sorry..” The regret sitting in the pit of yn’s stomach. It quickly left when Choso pulled him down by his neck into a warm embrace.
“..’m your stupid toy…” Choso whispered smiling to himself. He didn’t regret this.
Yn sighed and returned the hug.
“..sure”
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a/n ; I’ve always hated anything like step cest or inc*st it’s yuck but idk Choso being so big brother n shi kinda possessed me into writing this sorry xx
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ddejavvu · 4 months
Note
this idea came to me when I wanted to go to bed so imagine bradley at the hard deck wearing his usual hawaiian shirts and he bumps into a girl in a dress with the exact same design as his shirt like it's fate😭 and then after they start dating they always match🥹
THIS IS SO CUTE ??
--
The material that Bradley's hand brushes against is soft, but he doesn't pay much attention to it until he can see it. He stops in his tracks, offering you a sincere, "Sorry," when he's jostled from his left and rams into you on his right. You turn to glance at him over your shoulder, and you register each others' outfits at the same time, all owlish blinks and hitched breaths.
Bradley speaks first, a murmured, 'Oh-' but you're hot on his trail, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips.
You're wearing the same thing.
Bradley's sporting a faded old Hawaiian shirt, but it's unmistakably the same patterned fabric that your dress is made from. The green on his shirt was a lot brighter when he'd plucked it out of his dad's closet almost ten years ago, but yours is more vibrant, reminding him of a photo of him and his dad that lays in the drawer of his nightstand.
"I like your shirt," You grin at him, and he wonders if the glimmer in your eyes is always there, or only when you've got a drink in hand. It's pretty, he thinks, he hopes it's not temporary.
"I like your dress," He teases, swallowing what he doesn't want to admit is the beginnings of a lump in his throat, "Where'd you get it?"
"I found it at a thrift shop," You admit, reaching out to tug at the open panel of his shirt, "What about you?"
"It was my dad's," He grins, taking one step closer to you so that you're not so much reaching out for him as you are reaching up, "If he'd known there was a matching dress, he would have bought one for my mom."
"That's sweet!" You gush, and he notices whether you want him to or not, that you haven't let go of his shirt yet, "I like it when husbands match with their wives, I think it makes a good man."
--
"-And that's- that's why he's got that dumbass tie on," Fanboy concludes, words coming out slurred with laughter, "'Cause- cause three years ago she said it'd make him a good man."
"It's not dumb," Bob pipes up with a kind smile, eyeing Bradley's tie and your matching hair tie, a scrunchie made from the same fabric. You'd had to sacrifice your dress to fashion your accessories, but you're wearing maternity clothing now, and you likely won't be able to fit into it afterwards, anyways. It's a thing of the past, but you'd thought it unbearable not to incorporate the reason you'd gotten together with Bradley in the first place into your wedding.
"I don't care if he thinks it's dumb," Bradley drawls, his hand growing clammy from where it's been clutching yours beneath the table for almost an hour now, though he makes no move to break the embrace, "He thinks deodorant is dumb, too, and I can smell him from here."
"I'd watch what you say, Fanboy," Phoenix warns, "They made a onesie for the baby out of that dress, too, and if you keep running your mouth they might not let you hold her."
"He's not gettin' a chance to hold her anyways," Jake vows, "Kid's gonna love me so much she won't want me to put her down."
"You usually have the opposite effect on women," Bradley reminds him, "But the only ones I'll trust to hold her are Phoenix and Bob."
"No fair! I've got nieces and nephews," Jake protests, slightly more invested than normal thanks to the wine he's been nursing, his cheeks growing rosy with each sip, "I'm great with 'em."
"You throw those kids around like they're basketballs," Bradley scoffs, "And I'm not letting you give my baby brain damage, Hangman. I've gotta make sure she's smarter than you."
757 notes · View notes
m-yg93 · 11 months
Text
Solace
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Pairing: KNJ x Reader
WC: 13.5k
Genre: Roommates2L
Rating: M (minors dni)
Warnings: Brief blood mention from a cut, mention of minor character death (sickness), fingering, hand job, big dick joon, belly bulge, unprotected sex, mentions of choking, creampie, dirty talk, inconsistent POV
Banner by @sugarwithtea​
Beta’d by @yoongiobsessed​ and Sara (twitter link)
Summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.
Author’s Note: This should have been written months ago. I don’t have an excuse. Oh well, it’s here now! 
Part of the Room For Rent collab
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There needs to be a word that describes the feeling of being happy for someone while simultaneously going through betrayal.
Namjoon is happy for Yoongi, of course he is, but watching him from across their kitchen table is sending an uncomfortable wave through him. He didn’t expect his oldest and closest friend to run from him, leave him in the dust, just straight up abandon him.
“Oh my God, you’re being dramatic. I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving to Gangnam. It’s just across the river! You and your freakishly thick thighs can bike to my new place in 20 minutes.”
Okay so perhaps he’s being a little dramatic but what else was he supposed to think? He and Yoongi had shared this apartment for years. There had been countless sleepless nights fueled by too much ramen, the living room littered with energy drinks as they bumped heads and helped each other brainstorm ideas for new beats. These walls hold melodies and memories, and he’s just expected to share them with someone else now?
“Plus, I told you you’re welcome to move in with Jin and I. His dad’s some CEO and the apartment is ridiculously lavish. There’s a room with your name on the door if you want it. I’m serious, Jin has this thing with plaques and has a name for every room, it’s honestly worrying. I won’t even tell you what he decided to name the master bedroom.”
Namjoon purses his lips at the thought. That was the main reason behind turning Yoongi’s offer down. He likes Jin and genuinely loves that he brings so much light into Yoongi’s naturally dreary life. Seeing Yoongi’s lips fight against a smile only to burst into the cheesiest, gummy grin while audibly groaning about his boyfriend’s terrible jokes brings a warmth to Namjoon’s chest every time. Yoongi deserves to be happy and he knows Jin is the best person for the job. But he knows full well the couple will christen every room of that apartment and he wants no part of it.
“I know,” he agrees, “But with the proximity to Yongsan park? I don’t know if I’ll ever leave this place.” The open fields just outside the doors of their apartment are the first solace he reaches for when the instrumentals in his brain just keep fighting each other, transforming into the screeching noise of the streets under his window. The trees don’t talk back but letting out his frustrations under the canopy of leaves feels like it helps anyway. “I guess I’ll have to try to pick up some extra freelance contracts to make up for having to pay the rent alone. I hate having to produce meaningless pop but it brings in decent cash when I’m in a tight spot,” he laments.
“Dude, I’m not heartless. I didn’t just decide to move out and leave you stranded. I have a friend from high school. I don’t see her often but she’s a good time and she’s looking to move out of her parents’ place now that she’s done with her degree. It’ll be easier to find work in the city. I’ve mentioned her. Y/N? I go out to dinner with her every couple months to make sure we keep in touch. She’s pretty shy and she’s quiet, you’ll barely notice she’s here.”
There’s a wave of relief that comes with knowing he won’t have to pinch pennies but it quickly turns frigid at the realization that he’ll have to live with a stranger. What if she was a morning person? What if she was a smoker and made the whole apartment fill with the lingering acrid smell? What if she killed his plants?
“I can see your brain working overtime. Breathe, I wouldn’t offer the place to someone I know doesn’t fit your vibe,” Yoongi reassures. I guess there’s not much else to do but wait and see how compatible your living situations are.
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Thankfully their own music equipment had been bought separately because they’ve been bickering all day when Yoongi tries to put something in a box from their shared spaces only to have Namjoon object.
“What are you going to do with a wok, Joon? YOU DON’T COOK!”
“Jin has a plethora of different ones in his kitchen and we both know it! Maybe your friend likes to cook, huh? Maybe she’ll want the wok to make meals.”
“Make you meals, you mean?” Okay so maybe he was hoping the new roommate situation came with food because losing both Yoongi and Jin’s cooking overnight was going to hit him hard. He’ll wither away into a string bean at this rate seeing as he’s not allowed near the knives nor the stove.
Yoongi must take pity in the pleading look in his eyes because he puts down the wok with a sigh and passes to the next cupboard. Namjoon is distracted by Jin’s entrance, always loud and boisterous.
“Hey! How is packing going? I just parked the moving van downstairs but I don’t know how long I’m allowed to be there.”
“It’s fine,” Yoongi shouts from across the apartment. “I’d be done already if Joon didn’t try to steal all my shit and force me to leave them here.” He’s zooming past him, bony shoulder purposefully digging into Joon’s bicep.
“I’m monitoring the fair share of roommate assets,” he huffs. “Jin’s apartment has more shit in it than he already needs. You’re leaving me alone with only memories that you once cared for me. The least you could do is not leave with half of what’s in this measly dwelling when your sugar daddy’s got you up in a penthouse.”
They both know the jabs are jokes. Jin has more money than anyone needs, but he’s also a hard worker and spent his youth learning how to take over the business from his father when the time comes. He’d swept Yoongi off his feet with expensive dinners and outrageous gifts when they were first dating, only knowing how to flaunt his money for attention before Yoongi set him straight and taught him that he’d have to put more thought into his courting if he expected him to stick around. Clearly, he did.
Reminiscing about his, nearly ex, roommate almost distracts him enough to miss Yoongi trying to sneak a thin square package into his last remaining box.
“You’re going to take that vinyl out of here over my dead body, Yoongi!” The apartment echoes the lament in surround sound.
They do eventually make it to the van parked downstairs after Yoongi finishes taping up his boxes with only a limited amount of protest from Namjoon.. The air is humid, clothes sticking to Namjoon’s skin as he chases after the wind from Yoongi’s open window like a dog on his first car ride. Jin’s apartment building is a stark opposite from their, his, own. Whereas the outside of his building is all grey concrete walls, Jin’s is all sleek glass of floor-to-ceiling windows causing the brightness of the sun to reflect off and into Namjoon’s eyes as he looks up to the top where his friend will now be living.
The air conditioning of the lobby hits full force, the trio letting out a pleasant hum which quickly turns into a deep groan when they see the elevator boasting an out of order sign. Two pairs of sharp eyes round on Jin, malice dripping from furrowed brows.
“I swear it was working when I left this morning. They must be using all the power to keep each unit’s AC going through the heat wave. The stairs are this way.” He points to a corner of the lobby, tight corridor leading to a single door.
“The stairs? You live in the penthouse, that’s FIFTEEN flights, babe.” Yoongi is quick to point out.
“Are you trusting enough to keep all your music equipment in the van for who knows how long this heat is going to last? I know you’re going to complain about all the moisture in the air messing with your delicate settings.” Namjoon knows he’s got him there. Yoongi would suffer through a natural disaster if it meant keeping his equipment safe and at peak performance.
“You’re right,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly, head thrown backwards. “But I won’t be any help bringing the gear up. You see these legs? They’ll snap like toothpicks if I try to bring them up. Guess Biceps and Shoulders need to do all the heavy lifting.” There’s an airy lilt to his voice when he figures he’s saved himself from the worst bit.
“Doubt they’ll stay that small seeing how many times you’ll be going up and down those stairs to bring up all the light boxes while we deal with the heavy stuff. You’ll have lungs of steel with all that cardio, buddy. I’m sure Jin will appreciate how long he can hold his dick in your throat without you needing to breathe after that.” Namjoon sends him a salacious wink.
Yoongi’s face, which had been a flushed shade of pink from the heat, drains immediately when he realizes the position he’s put himself in but Namjoon doesn’t let him change his mind. He just claps a hand on his shoulder and turns around to get to the van and pick up the first console they’ll need to bring up to Yoongi’s new designated studio space.
Namjoon regrets showing Friends to Jin after today. If he has to hear ‘PIVOT’ one more forsaken time he might choke that windshield wiper laugh right out his friend’s throat. His whole body is aching when he sets his ass down on Jin’s plush couch, finally tasting a bite of heaven after all those steps but it can’t be savored long.
“Get up.” Yoongi’s voice breaks through his needed rest. “The elevator mishap made us take way longer than planned and we’re already late to pick up Y/N.” If anyone sees him fighting back tears that’s none of their business.
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The drive out to the suburbs of Seoul is peaceful, the population seems to have holed up inside and away from the sun’s rays. They pull up to a nice two-story home. Namjoon can’t see much into the property since it’s surrounded by tall brick walls, but it’s unnecessary as he can see the silhouette of a young woman waiting outside the gate, piles of boxes at her feet.
They all pour out of the truck, Yoongi darts out first to meet her halfway where she throws herself in his arms. There’s a lot of squealing and Namjoon isn’t sure from who it’s coming out of in the mess of limbs. They separate and approach where he and Jin had waited by the vehicle.
“I’m Y/N, you must be Jin!” There’s a hand out ready to be shaken but it’s presented in front of the wrong man.
“Actually, Jin is this one,” Yoongi corrects, taking your wrist and moving it to the correct person.
“Oh my God, that’s embarrassing. I just figured it was the big one. I’ve heard about your muscle kink enough once you figured out you were into men that I just-- You know what? I’m going to shut up now. Hi, sorry about that. Nice to meet you.” There’s a nervous giggle in between words that’s instantly endearing.
Jin doesn’t seem offended, laughing alongside her. “No worries, he’s plenty satisfied without the beefiness of his teenage crushes.” He wiggles his eyebrows comically which has her chuckling and Yoongi whining.
“This is Namjoon, your new roommate. Joon, this is Y/N.” It’s his turn to shake hands, your fingers so thin and delicate around his much bigger grasp. He takes the time to really take you in, looking down at you; wide grin and smooth skin that spans from your neck down into your… Nope, face!
“You have a nice face.” For a lyricist he sure did have a way with words.
“Thank you?” Your eyes trail to the side where Yoongi stands, eyes deadpan and mouth shut tight.
“He grows on you, I swear. Get in the car, we’ll grab your boxes.” Yoongi says as he passes in front of you with an icy stare towards Namjoon. Okay, so he could have made a better first impression.
You don’t have many boxes which makes sense. The apartment is furnished and Yoongi had left his bedroom set for you since he wouldn’t need it at Jin’s. He remembers leaving his parent’s house with barely anything. It had taken a while for Yoongi and him to make the apartment seem like people actually lived in it. They’d spent far too long eating cup noodles while sitting on the floor in the corner of the kitchen.
Jin takes his place behind the wheel, Yoongi slipping in beside him in the passenger seat. The earlier ride in the backseat wasn’t so bad for Namjoon since he could sit crookedly to fit his long legs behind the couple’s seats in front of him but your presence beside him forces his knees to hit the back of Yoongi’s seat.
“Can you push your seat up a bit? Your little legs don’t need that much space,” Namjoon shoots ahead of him.
“And just for that comment your giant ass and long limbs can suck it up. Respect your elders, brat,” Yoongi snaps back. Maybe he deserved that one.
He sends you a sheepish look and an awkward smile as he spreads open his thighs lewdly. His knee hits yours despite you sticking your legs together demurely, hands politely sitting in your lap. The touch attracts your gaze and Namjoon can track your eyes as they drag up the bare skin of his quad, past the hem where the material of his shorts dig into his thighs, and settles just a little too long where both his legs meet. He can practically feel your stare burning a hole into his groin, a heat expanding through his body.
He doesn’t even realize when he lets out an uneasy cough and you’re quick to look away with a start when you hear it; clearly having been caught in your little perversion. The flush that builds on your cheeks is shameful enough that he doesn’t mention anything more, only locking away the memory of you blushing and embarrassed for later.
Namjoon is thankful that with four pairs of arms there won’t be a need to do multiple trips for your boxes. Jin sends you and Yoongi off with a box each but loads Namjoon’s arms with three; enough to block his view so he has to peek around them to see where he’s going. There might not be many boxes but the ones he’s been given are heavy enough to make his arms shake underneath their weight. He’s absolutely going to blame that on having had to haul all of Yoongi’s belongings during the day and definitely not on the fact he’s weak. He goes to the gym regularly!
“Thanks for helping! Just leave them by the door, I’ll take care of unloading everything,” you call from across the apartment. Yoongi must be giving you a tour of the place.
Namjoon kicks off his shoes and crashes head first into the couch, his big body halfway dropping off of it. All his muscles ache and he’s sticky with sweat. His lids close, reaching for some rest. His stomach rumbles, the memory of breakfast fading. There’s soft footsteps sneaking up on him. He’s trained himself enough to catch Yoongi coming. He’s broken enough things when his roommate suddenly appeared by his side and gave him a spook.
“Don’t think I’m an idiot, Joon. I could see the way you looked at her. I’m only going to say this once, don’t fuck my friend.” His voice is almost sinister as it whispers in his ear. Namjoon’s eyes quickly open wide. He wasn’t looking at you in any sort of way and he was about to defend himself, mouth open with a denial on his tongue. He doesn’t have the chance since you pop around the corner, seeing them both with their heads too close to each other, Yoongi’s glare facing Namjoon’s incredulous look.
“Everything good here?” you ask.
Yoongi’s expression shifts, gummy smile on full display but Namjoon still sees the daggers in his eyes. “Yep, I was just saying bye to Joon. Jin’s already back at the van and we need to get it back to the vendor. Text me if you need anything Y/N. And Joon? Remember what I said.” He and Jin take their leave, surely to start desecrating their new shared space.
“Okay? Is it just me or was he being weird?” You look back at Namjoon but there’s only a shrug of his shoulders as your reply. “Alright, well I’m going to start unpacking then.” You’re just about to turn tail when you can hear the growl coming from Namjoon again. “Ah, you must be hungry, you’ve been going around the city all day. Is there anything already in the kitchen?”
“No, we went through all of it when Yoongi and Jin decided to have a goodbye dinner this week. You get started on unpacking and I’ll run down to the store for some stuff. I think we’re both too tired to do much effort but I can grab ingredients for some decent ramen.” Namjoon slips his shoes back on and running out the door as soon as he finishes speaking.
Luckily, there’s a small family owned market just down the street from the apartment. Mrs. Park is going to be sad to hear that her ‘little dumpling’, as she called Yoongi, won’t be visiting her anymore. She’s mostly used to seeing Namjoon anyway. Yoongi may have been the one cooking but Joon was always the one sent off on errands for any ingredients that were missing midway through the meal preparation.
The bell chimes above him when he walks into the little shop. Mrs. Park doesn’t even look up from her newspaper, head staring firmly into her lap. There’s a low buzz emitting from the artificial lights mixing with the music that’s playing in the shop, something Namjoon doesn’t know, a beat that hasn’t been popular in half a century.
The aisles are familiar and he grabs the ingredients absentmindedly, throwing things in the handheld basket hooked onto the crook of his arm. Green onions from the produce section, a carton of eggs and a hunk of cheese from the dairy section, and spam from the canned goods area.
Mrs. Park finally lifts her eyes from whatever news story that had her attention and gives him a warm smile that reaches her eyes. He should give his grandma a call. A smooth wrinkled hand grabs his groceries one by one, slowly bringing them closer for inspection. Her frail finger punches into the keys of the register.
His eyes wander while his items disappear from the counter and into a bag beneath the surface. The sky has turned a slate grey from an overbearing cloud covering the sun, bringing the vibrance of outside down to a dull.
Against the window is a shelf filled with flowers. Namjoon has often seen people grabbing a bouquet as they wait for their total. He remembers a man with a tie midway undone, suit jacket flapping behind him as he rushed out frantically. A forgotten anniversary he suspected. Just last week, there was a small child tugging at his father’s sleeve, pointing at a particularly bright blossom and requesting to bring it home to his mother. The memory brings a small smile to his lips.
He doesn’t contemplate long before reaching for a lonely white rose in a near empty bucket. He remembers certain symbolism from the time he read The Language of Flowers. Purity, innocence, a new beginning, and reverence. He thinks he catches a mischievous glint in Mrs. Park’s eye as she hands him the bag of groceries in one hand while the rose remains in his other.
The universe allows him only long enough to step out of the shop before the skies open up with a loud clap and water erupts in a downpour. Shock overtakes him and he freezes on the spot as he lets the fat water droplets sink into the fabric of his clothes. The cold immediately seepsinto his skin and settles in his bones, eyes shut tight and mouth open.
The loud rumble of distant thunder urges him to start moving. The plastic of the bag is slippery in his grasp and there’s a stinging pain in his palm from where the rose’s thorns dig in. There’s an uncomfortable squeak from the leather of his sandals with every heavy step he takes. As he sprints the few blocks back to the apartment, the loud slap slap slap of his foot hitting the pavement.
The door of the apartment slams into the wall as Namjoon rushes to get inside, the doorknob undoubtedly leaving a mark from the force at which Namjoon has opened it to throw himself inside.
“Namjoon? Is everything okay?” you call from the living room. “I’m sorry for the mess, I’m trying to fit in my own books across your collection. I don’t want to mess up the system you’ve got going on.”
“Yeah, all good, just wasn’t paying attention,” he reassures.
Your head pops out from the hallway to take inventory of the situation yourself, not quite trusting the waver in his voice. “Oh god, it started raining? I was so in my bubble that I didn’t even notice. You’re soaked! Let me grab you a towel.” You’re off to the bathroom before he can even thank you, already back to exchange the flower still in his grasp for the towel you hand him.
“I hope it didn’t take a beating on my way back over here,” he says, worry tainting the edge of his voice.
“No, it’s perfect. Thank you. Do you know if you have any vases?”
“I’m sure Yoongi’s left some in the kitchen. Jin had a habit of getting him a new bouquet every month. Don’t tell Yoongi I said this but he’d blush every time despite all the grumbling he did about it. Happened every month for two years, like clockwork,” he teases.
“That sounds about right. Yoongi will never admit it but I know how much praise and appreciation means to him. I’m glad Jin gives him that. I’ll go find it.” You’re turning tail and heading into the kitchen in search of the vase.
He pats himself dry enough so that he’s no longer dripping on the floor before he follows you in. You’re in front of an open cabinet, head tilted back to look at the top shelf of it. Your hand is stretched to its capacity, boosted by the tip of your toes, one knee nearly hiking onto the countertop to give yourself enough reach.
He truly only means to help when he sneaks in behind you to grab at the vase. He doesn’t expect to catch you off guard, sending you backwards and off balance with a squeak. His grasp abandons its path towards the top shelf and instead redirects to land on your hips, pinning you against his chest.
You’re taken by surprise at the strong hands grabbing onto your side, a hard wall of muscle at your back, heat radiating from his skin, his wet clothes dampening yours.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breath just a little too close to your ear.
There’s a hitch in your voice when you reply hastily, “Mhm! All good. I’ll let you get that actually. I’m going to change. My clothes are gross from today. You should too, you’re going to catch a chill if you stay in those wet clothes. Your shirt’s so soaked I can see right through it. Not that I was looking! I’ll just- right.”
You’re running off before he can articulate a thought, the door of your room slamming shut behind you. He’s nearly certain he can hear an embarrassed groan through the wall despite that. He does get the vase down and fills it with water, dropping the rose into it before he slips into his room as well.
The rain will be good for the heat in the long run but as it stands it just permeates the apartment with heavy humidity. He grabs a pair of comfortable shorts and a tank top to change into. He passes next to your room on his way to the bathroom. He takes the time to stop and knock at your door.
“Y/N? Do you need to use the bathroom? I’m going to jump in the shower really quick.”
“Go ahead! I’ll take one after dinner.”
His clumsy fingers struggle with the lock behind him, clothes falling onto the floor. The bluetooth speaker that has a permanent residence in the bathroom is turned on, a playlist going at random. He makes sure to adjust the temperature of the water, slightly colder than he usually would. It’s absolutely to combat the heat and definitely not the memory of your body pressed against his in the kitchen; soft under his hands and plump against where his crotch pushed in under the curve of your ass.
Oh god, focus on something else. Listen to the music. The beat is uplifting and he finds himself singing along to the lyrics. A popular song from a girl group member. He recalls Yoongi mentioning he’s worked on something similar.
He lets the tepid water run down his body, hands quick and rough where he scrubs the soap into his skin, not letting them stay in one spot too long to melt into the feeling. Yep, he definitely needs to have it colder. It’s near shivering levels of frigid when he ducks his head under the stream to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.
He’s nearly forgotten about the shape of your body against him, mind preoccupied with the soprano of the singer in his ears. Pop pop, pop, you want it. His body responds as if with muscle memory from seeing this song trend with its choreo everywhere online. His hands take turns pointing at an open hand and back again, fists then popping as if miming fireworks going down a zig zag pattern.
The haunting thoughts of the kitchen eventually disperse enough for him to exit the stream of water and change into the clean, dry clothes. You’re already in the kitchen humming to yourself once he leaves the room followed by a puff of steam.
“Do you need me to help with anything?” he proposes.
“Yeah, that’d be great. Can you slice up the spam and drop the eggs into the water? There’s a pot already boiling.” Put eggs in water and cut up some meat. Sure, he can do that.
The eggs may have cracked a little when he quite literally dropped them into the pot but that’s fine. A little hard boiled never hurt anyone. He swears he’s extra careful when you hand him a knife and let him stand in front of the cutting board. Just going to very daintily hold down the spam and slowly bring the knife down-
“You’re holding it upside down. Sharp edge towards the bottom and make sure you curl your knuckles in so you don’t nick yourself.” Right, of course, he knew the knife was upside down. Just making sure you did, hah.
He manages to make some slightly uneven slices until about halfway through the block but eventually there’s just not enough space for his big sausage fingers to hold on and the knife just slips…right into his palm.
“Ah, shit!” He jumps back, letting the knife clatter to the floor. His uninjured hand keeps the pressure onto the wound as small river of red runs between his fingers. He’s taken by surprise and lets himself be manhandled to the sink before his wounded hand is pushed under the cold, running water.
“I should have figured why Yoongi was so ominously telling me where the first aid kit was in the kitchen. And why he asked how often I cooked at home.” There’s shuffling behind him and a small hand sneaking its way between his body and the sink.
“Take it out, I’ll pat it dry and put a bandage on.” He’s careful to keep his hand stable as your delicate fingers patch him up. A soft pressure with a gauze and a more instant one for the wrap that goes around his palm.
“My friend JK is going to think I took up boxing and ask me to go to the gym with him if he sees this.” He tries to laugh it off, bringing humor into his near amputation.
“I don’t think you need any incentive to go to the gym.” Your eyes are trailing up his arm, stopping at his bicep and following all the way to the middle of his chest. The flex he pushes is completely accidental and was absolutely not to show off the progress he’s been building.
“I take care of myself, I guess.”
“Right.” There’s a small laugh in your voice. “Go take care of yourself, away from the kitchen. I’ll handle the rest.”
He lets himself be shooed out of the hot space, out into the living room where he sees your earlier comment about a mess. There’s books all over the floor in little towers looking for a home on his already overly compacted bookshelf. He picks a few of his bigger tomes to rehouse to his room which allows space for yours to make themselves at home.
He doesn’t notice how long he’s been calculating which books need to be relocated until he hears the clatter of bowls hitting the coffee table behind him.
“I figured we could eat in here today, more casual and all. Thank you for helping me make sense of where to put my stuff. I didn’t want to impose.”
“This is your home too now, you deserve to have space for your things. Yoongi wasn’t much of a reader. Thank you for dinner. I’m afraid you’re going to be in charge of feeding me a lot. I can always just order in but Yoongi was always on my ass for spending money on takeout.” He has the humility to look ashamed at his incapacity to nurture himself.
“No worries, it was kind of implied when he told me to take his spot. I like cooking, so I don’t mind, really. Tell me more about yourself though, I only know what Yoongi’s told me which is pretty much only that you produce music like he does. You’ve got an eye for art from what I can see of the prints on the walls.”
“Ah, actually those are all mine,” he blushes and points to a camera that takes a place on one of the higher shelves. “I like biking around and I figured it was a shame to see all the pretty landscapes without getting to commemorate them properly so I got into photography. I’m not a professional or anything but I enjoy it. I’m actually going to Comic Con this weekend with a group of my friends. They’re cosplaying and they wanted someone around to take pictures of them in costume. JK's actually got a pretty great Spiderman thing going on and it works for him with all the, you know, muscles and spandex.” He’s gesturing a little wildly over his body, as if you’re familiar with Jungkook’s physique.
“I don’t but I can imagine.” Your eyes are following where his hands had gestured over him, gaze roaming over the muscles he’s boasting himself. “You don’t happen to have any spandex hiding in your closet yourself?”
“Nothing like him, riding shorts for when I take particularly long bike rides. I don’t tend to favor it, they really ride up.” His sentence ends in an uncomfortable chuckle and he avoids your view, completely missing how your eyes have started to glaze over.
The small talk fades after that, replaced with the sound of chopsticks hitting the edge of bowls and the occasional slurps. You hold your chopsticks loosely between bites, your phone in your spare hand just mindlessly scrolling.
There’s a familiar tune coming softly from your direction, a low hum of a melody that triggers Namjoon’s receptors. He can place it pretty quickly, pop pop pop uh uh.
His hands take on a mind of their own. He doesn’t stop chewing as his fists go through the movement. Open palm, point, switch, zigzag.
He wouldn’t have even not realized what he was doing if a little giggle hadn’t interrupted the flow of the song. He freezes, eyes widening. It’s a slow pan of his eyes to look into his peripheral, as if not moving his head would somehow render him invisible and able to melt away from the embarrassing situation he’s caught himself in.
You’re doing your best to hold it in, lips nearly completely sucked into your mouth, teeth forcing them closed. He appreciates the effort but he can admit the jig is up. He picks his chopsticks back up with a little cough, gathering his bearings.
“It’s a catchy song,” he defends.
“Oh absolutely, it gets stuck in your head so easily. Even when hearing it off key and through the rush of running water,” you tease.
He pretends to be offended by that. “I’m a producer! I’ll have you know I have great pitch.”
“Of course, someone should tell Nayeon that she’s in the wrong key then. How embarrassing for her to be performing it that way.”
You both dissolve into laughter after that. The silence that follows feels a lot lighter than it previously had been and he breathes a little easier.
“Leave your dishes in the sink, I’ll take care of it in exchange for the cooking labour. I rarely break things anymore. Even if Yoongi won’t let me forget about his favorite mug. I still insist that the shape wasn’t ergonomic and that’s why it slipped out of my hand. He was so mad he refused to drink any coffee that day and knowing Yoongi you know how that was more a punishment for me than it was for himself,” he shares the memory of how grumpy Yoongi had been that day. They must have restarted the same beat half a dozen times. Suffice to say it wasn’t a very productive day and Namjoon owed him a new mug of his choosing.
Your first night together was fruitful. You’ve managed to unpack and meld your belongings with his, have dinner - where he didn’t kill himself in the kitchen - and bond over some banter. You’ve practically ingrained yourself in his life already and Namjoon isn’t sure if that’s good or a little terrifying. He’s not the type to usually feel comfortable with a stranger so quickly. He’s glad Yoongi had you take his place, he doubts it would have been this pleasurable if he had had to place an ad online.
There’s a ghost of a smile stuck on his face when he closes the door to his bedroom. Being alone in his room brings forth the thoughts he’d pushed aside back to the forefront. His computer monitor lights up the space, calling him back. The mixing board on his desk blares a signal he can’t ignore. He has a project to finish and the deadline is knocking at his door incessantly. He sits in his chair with a sigh and slips his headphones over his ears, blocking out the loud patter of raindrops on his window.
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He awakes with a start. His back is sore and his skin is damp with sweat. He’s too old to be falling asleep on his desk like this, he’s going to feel it in the morning. The room is pitch black around him. A quick jiggle of the mouse tells him the computer is dead and there’s a hint of panic at the thought of having lost his work. Rationale takes over to remind him that it automatically gets stored on the cloud at consistent intervals. They’ve learned their lesson too many times before implementing that.
There’s an odd irritation at the back of his mind and he realizes the thrum of the AC is missing. Ah, no power. The storm must have knocked it out. His muscles scream from the stretch and there’s more than a few uncomfortable cracks when he gets up and extends his arms above his head. He slips out of his clothes in hopes that more skin in contact with any air might help him cool down. Besides, he always sleeps in his boxers anyway. The air has dried up his throat and he can feel his body begging for water. He grabs the latest water bottle to litter his desk, tips it all the way upside down but not a drop comes.
He hopes he can traverse the apartment to the kitchen silently. Between his heavy footsteps and the stubborn squeaky floorboard outside his bedroom he’s worried about waking you. He sends a silent prayer into the universe that you’re a deep sleeper.
He does hit the floorboard, sending a creek into the night and he freezes for a second but no angry outbursts come from your room to scold him. He’s slowly taking a step in front of the other, carefully moving his weight from one foot to the next, the little smack of his sole hitting the wooden floor melding into the sounds of the rain still pouring outside.
The pressure from the faucet sends the water stream beating onto the metal of the sink and he hopes the curse he lets out fades into the night. He downs two whole glasses before he feels sated and prepares for the slow trek back to his room.
He’s just outside your door when the apartment flashes as lightning touches down in the distance. Namjoon stops moving as the roll of thunder comes quickly behind, nearly covering the strangled gasp from the other side of the door.
“Y/N? Are you okay in there?" The door to Yoongi’s room always had trouble latching since Namjoon drunkenly threw himself into the frame thinking he was heading into his own bed one night.
There’s a small crack where he can press his ear to. He holds his breath, straining to hear above the rattle of the heavy rain against the windows. For a second he believes he must’ve imagined it, or perhaps you’d shifted in your sleep.
He has one foot in the air, prepared to shuffle back to his own room when he hears it again. A choked sob hidden between the pitter patter of drops slamming against the glass.
He’s more insistent this time when he calls your name and pairs it with a soft knock against the wood of your door.
The noise seems to give you a spook because he swears you let out a high pitched ‘EEK’ in your surprise. There’s no additional verbal answer so he takes his chances on turning the knob and poking his head inside.
“Y/N? It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s Namjoon,” he reassures.
He can’t see a thing, the room is pure darkness. The streetlights outside have gone down with the rest of the power grid so he can’t tell if you’re hurt or might need help.
“Joonie?” There’s a soft voice coming from where he knows the bed is, muffled and timid.
“Yeah, can I come in?” he asks.
“Yeah,” comes an answer, meek and nearly whispered.
He hadn’t come into this room since you unpacked so he’s careful to take small, careful steps towards the bed, nearly bent in half with his arms out to feel for any furniture you might have moved into the path. He taps the bed tentatively when he finally reaches it, feeling long limbs under his palm.
He shyly takes his hands off you and makes his way towards the headboard, knees hitting the edge of the mattress as guidance. He reaches out again, expecting to find you but he only feels more blanket covered lumps.
“Are you hiding under the blanket?”
No words come but the hard shape under his palm moves in a nodding motion. He sinks down, kneeling onto the floor a little harder than he expected. Difficult to judge distance in the darkness.
“Can I pull the comforter down? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
The fabric moves under his touch until the feeling of goose down turns into silky hair. He moves his fingers down, grazing your ears until they reach your cheeks, damp and hot against his skin.
“Are you crying? What’s going on? Is moving away from home for the first time getting to you?” It definitely had for him at first. He’d go back to his parents’ house every night to have his mother’s cooking for dinner and only started spending the evenings at the apartment after his younger sister had mocked him about not being able to stay too far from his mother’s comfort.
You let out a shamed whine below him. “No…” He stays silent, waiting to see if you’ll share more. “The thunder woke me up and then I tried to turn on the light but it wouldn’t work. And-”
Lightning interrupts you and as the room flashes in sudden light Namjoon sees your face for an instant. Your eyes are wide, laced with red from the tears but one thing he can tell for sure is that in that second- you’re absolutely terrified.
Your breath gets shaky and there’s a twitch in your hands where he can tell you struggle not to throw the blanket back over your head to escape.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re afraid of the storm, I get it.” His grip on you tightens when he feels you tremble as the thunder rolls behind.
“You can say it. It’s stupid to be scared of storms. I’m just a big weenie.”
“I’d never call you a weenie, Y/N. You know, my friend JK is afraid of microwaves. Runs out of the kitchen and hides across his apartment every time he needs to heat something up. He’s convinced they’re going to blow up and take him with them in the blast.”
You snort, which is followed by a loud slap of skin on skin that he can only assume is you covering your mouth in response to the noise that just escaped. He’s huffing out his own chuckle in response. Adorable.
“Okay, so what are you afraid of then Mr. Tough Guy?” You’re more combative now. He’ll take that over the fearful demeanor you had a minute ago.
“Me? Hmm, I don’t think there’s anything too unusual. I’m not super fond of spiders, I suppose?”
“Spiders? But Yoongi told me you’re obsessed with crabs. They’re basically water spiders. They walk similarly and they’ve even got more legs!” Oh, you’re heated now but you’ve hit him where it hurts.
“How dare you!” The offended gasp he lets out overtakes the drone of rain coming from outside. “Crabs are cute little friends. I have half a mind to walk out and leave you alone in this storm after that.” He fakes getting up but a small hand digs into the flesh of his bicep.
“Don’t! Please. I’m sorry, crabs are adorable, you’re right. I was just kidding. Don’t leave.” He can hear the fear engulfing your voice in your plea.
“No, no, it’s okay. I was just joking. I’ll stay as long as you need.” He didn’t mean to trigger your panic again, especially since he had just gotten you to calm down a bit.
“You might be here a while then, it doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon.”
“No worries. Let me just get off my knees. I won’t be able to walk tomorrow if I spend all night bent like this.” He makes to switch to sitting on the floor but you stop him.
“Do you… uhm, want to lay on the bed? There’s more than enough room for two. I’m not like Rose, that bitch.”
“Are you sure? I can sit here, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You’d known each other barely 12 hours. He didn’t want to appear pushy in your vulnerable state. He’s enough of a gentleman to know to make space for the women in his life to ease themselves into his presence in a manner where they feel safe.
“Don’t worry. Yoongi told me enough about you for me to know you’re the least scary man on this planet. Only way you’d hurt me is if you fell on top of me, which I’ve been warned may happen more than I expect so be careful climbing in.” He feels you scooch over to the other side of the bed, leaving a wide open space for him to settle into.
There’s still some hesitation that weighs heavily in his limbs but when he sees how your body jumps when another bolt touches down and illuminates the room his resistance melts away. His movements are slow as he eases himself onto the mattress.
“Do you have enough space?” you ask.
If he’s being honest he’s certain half his body is teetering off the edge but he’s more concerned about overcrowding you. “I’m fine, don’t worry. You should try to sleep, you had a long day.”
You’re answering with a half hearted mumble and the room is overtaken with the battering of rain on the windows. Namjoon stays alert, hoping to feel your breathing even out to indicate that sleep has claimed you but it never comes.
“Are you still awake?” Your voice is barely a whisper and if he wasn’t specifically keeping an ear out, he would’ve missed it completely.
He turns onto his side, body now settled fully onto the bed with no risk of suddenly tumbling out with a wrong move. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Can we just talk for a bit? I think that’ll help me calm down.”
“Of course, as long as you don’t insult my little crustacean friends again.”
“Were you one of those kids that would do that shark chant? ‘Fish are friends, not food.’”
“Nah, Pixar and Bruce are wrong for that. Fish are food, crabs are friends.”
“You’ll have to give me a history lesson as to why kiddie Joonie came to that conclusion if Nemo wasn’t the inspiration.” There it is again, Joonie. Namjoon huffs out a little chuckle at hearing it, letting the nickname slip under it.
“Oh,” you gasp. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked before calling you that. Do you not like it? I’ll stick to your name. Or should I be using honorifics, oppa?”
Oh, he’ll have to unpack how his stomach flips with that last part but now isn’t the time for sudden self discoveries.
“No, no! Don’t worry, it’s cute. I just wasn’t expecting it. My friends usually stick to just Joon but you can get special roomie privileges.”
“I fear you’ll one day regret that. I’m going to be so annoying from now on.” He can hear how your words are blanketed in a mischievous teasing, and he believes you but won’t admit defeat that easily.
“You’ll have to give Tae a run for his money. If he pairs up with Jimin then they’re insufferable. Hobi is a saint for having them both under the same roof with him. You don’t know the guys yet but you’ll figure it out soon enough.”
It’s easy to imagine you already melding into his little group of misfits. He thinks back to dinner when you’d teased him about listening to that ‘girly’ song, and he knows he’ll soon be babysitting four wiley dongsaengs instead of three. Sometimes five when Jungkook manages to set Seokjin off. He doesn’t realize the smile that sets itself on his lips and it’s too dark for you to comment on it.
The bed shifts and your voice is suddenly closer, indicating you’d mirrored his movements and were now facing him.
“You talk about them a lot, your friends. Yoongi does too. You must all be really close.”
“We are, like brothers honestly. I have a younger sister but meeting Yoongi was the first time I felt like I had a hyung. He’s not much for declarations of affection but I love that dude.”
“He knows. You guys are all he talks about besides his music. He loves you, too. I can tell.” Namjoon never doubted that but it’s always nice to hear.
“What about you? Do you have any siblings?” It should be an innocent question but the silence that follows feels heavy and loaded.
“I did. My little brother. He was five. He spiked a bad fever one night and had to be rushed to the hospital. My father packed him up in the middle of the night while I slept. My mother woke me up at 4 am in hysterics. We drove to the emergency room and I watched my parents fall to the floor from across the room as the doctor told them he didn’t make it. I couldn’t hear what they said from that far away but it was obvious. I’m haunted by the sounds of the storm that was raging outside as the windows shaked around me. Acute bacterial meningitis.”
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m-”
“Don’t,” you interrupt. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that. It doesn’t bring him back, nothing will. I’m just left with distant memories of what his laugh sounded like, and this stupid fear of storms that just reminds me of the day my family broke apart.” Your words are being spit vehemently, your throat clearly closing up as it tries to choke back sobs.
Namjoon’s arms reach out to scoop you into his chest where you lose it in earnest. You hide into the crook of his neck as he can feel your resolve break. Tears hit his skin but he says nothing. There is nothing to say, he knows. You need something to hold onto as you let the emotions run their course and that’s something he can be for you.
It’s not too long before you catch your breath, great big gasps helping your body to settle back into rhythm.
“God, I’m so sorry. Having a breakdown because of some rain, trauma dumping, having a full breakdown. I must be making a great first impression as a new roommate.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re able to let it out. Bottling all that up would cause more damage.”
“Who knew I was shacking up with a therapist. It’s the same thing my counselor told me.” You’re back to teasing and Namjoon lets out the tension in his muscles that he didn’t realize he was holding. Your giggles fade off into a comfortable silence. The rain is still loud against the glass but the trembling that shook yo uhas subsided.
“‘Joonie? Can you hold me until I fall asleep?” Your voice is shy, the request bold for someone you barely know but he agrees without apprehension.
He expects you to burrow back into his chest as you’re already nestled in from your impromptu need for comfort but you surprise him by turning around and slotting yourself against him, back pushing into his front.
“Need to sleep on my left side. You don’t mind, do you?” After your revelation, he’d give you the moon if you asked, some spooning was an easy favor to fulfill.
He simply hums in agreement not entirely trusting himself not to put his foot in his mouth at that moment. He allows you to push back until you’re comfortable and slings his arm over your waist, letting his hand hang limp over your abdomen, careful not to push any unspoken boundaries.
You take it upon yourself to scoop his arm up and hold it close to you. Namjoon closes his fingers into a fist to avoid any accidental groping since his hand now rests on your chest, just above your breasts. He can feel the curve of them against his wrist, the mounds pressing into his forearm.
No! He needs to send his mind elsewhere. He tries to focus on the patter of the drops on the window. Pit pat. Would a roll of thunder fit into any of the songs he’s currently working on? What about the clap where the beat could drop? Anything to distract him from how warm you are beside him. The humidity of the storm only aggravates the heat that seeps through his skin, making it clammy and nearly wet. You, wet against him… NO! The heat is pooling at his crotch, the pressure rising when his blood is sent southward to fill a chub in his boxers. No, stop!
He’s trying desperately to inch his pelvis away from where your ass was resting against him. The universe is truly out for his demise because another round of lightning and thunder sends you jumping, forcefully seeking the hardness of his body against you. The grip on his arm turns vicious, your nails digging into his skin and your rear flies backwards in search of a seat and finds an unexpected obstacle.
Namjoon isn’t sure which sound rings louder. The gasp you let out at your discovery or his moan as his hips involuntarily thrust up against your ass. He doesn’t dare even breathe. What were you thinking? That your new roommate was a giant pervert? That he was taking advantage of the situation when all you asked for was some comfort in a time of need? Would you tell Yoongi? His hyung might be smaller than him but he has no doubt the older man could and would beat his ass into next week for this.
He seems to be the only one spiraling into a panic because instead of screaming and shoving him out of bed you only push back again. Your movements are tentative, slowly adding pressure and grinding your ass in circles against him as if trying to memorize the shape of him against your cheeks.
He slips his arm out of your grasp to bring his hand against your hip, pushing it down to pin you into the mattress and stop the maddening teasing.
“Y/N...” His voice comes out rough in between his teeth, a clear warning.
“Are you-?” You don’t need to finish your sentence with words, opting instead to push against his hold and roll your hips backwards again to feel the length behind you.
“I definitely am now since you can’t lie still. I’m trying to comfort you right now, so I am asking very politely to please have some mercy on me and go to sleep.”
For a second, Namjoon thinks he may have been too harsh.You’re quiet against him and he hopes he hasn’t triggered another round of distress with his tone.
The worries ebb when he feels your hand sneak behind to cup where his dick pushing against the fabric of his underwear. His eyes close when the pressure against the head sends little jolts of electricity flying through his body, a loud moan accompanying them.
“What if this is the comfort I need right now? Will you give it to me?” There’s a confidence in your voice now that had been missing when the sun went down. Namjoon is glad to hear it even if it beckons his doom.
He tries his best not to move, simply letting you tease along his length, your fingers wrapped around his cock through the thin fabric barrier. The drag is dry and nearly painful but he still twitches and wets a patch when your hand comes to squeeze at the head at every stroke.
You seem to take the lack of fighting back on his part as encouragement, and you push at the waistband to finally get under his boxers and meet the feverish skin hiding under them. He helps you reach your goal by shimmying the fabric down and under his balls, freeing his cock to let you handle it as you wish.
Your hand disappears for a second only to come back wet with spit and making the first tug of skin on skin both tortuous and heavenly. He can’t help but meet your fist with a thrust, precum dripping into your hand and easing the next strokes.
You’re showing your impatience when you grab his hand from your hip to aim it towards the waistband of your own underwear. You let him figure out the rest and go back to focus on jerking him off, a little harder this time as your hips roll against thin air.
He doesn’t keep you waiting too long, slipping his hand into your panties, realizing you’ve also opted out of sleeping with bottoms. His fingers plunge low and he’s surprised at how wet you are.
“All this just from rubbing against my dick a little bit?”
“No, I’ve been wet since you pulled me into your arms. Stupid thick biceps and big tits. Figured you’d notice it wasn’t just my eyes that were leaking.” Your words come staccato while your hips desperately try to chase his fingers.
He gives you what you seek and dips his middle finger into your heat. Your muscles contract around him, hot and so wet.
“Fuck, more,” you beg. You’re doing your best to clench around him but there’s not enough to bring relief.
“Impatient.” He wants this to last. He’s barely just gotten his hands on you after all the tension of the day finally snapping. He wants to savor it but you seem to have other plans.
“Namjoon, if you don’t start fingering me properly I’ll kick you out of this bed and do it myself.”
In any other situation he’d probably call that bluff, but he doesn’t want to risk you going through with it. He adds a second finger to your core and gets to work on a punishing rhythm. He uses the angle to his advantage and digs the heel of his palm against your clit to grind onto it with every thrust of his hand.
Your threats devolve into mewls. You’re trying to keep up your own pace against his dick but your grasp is loosening and losing rhythm. Hedoesn’t care. It allows him to focus on making you lose your mind, but you don’t seem to agree with the imbalance because you’re tugging him closer to you, tip bumping into the cotton of your panties. The need overtakes you and you’re ripping his fingers out of your pussy, letting it clench around nothing and mourning the loss. Your legs clamp shut to allow you to reach around and pull the fabric away from your entrance. You push back against his cock, trying to guide him through the darkness.
“In. Want you inside.” Your words aren’t quite begging but Namjoon can hear the plea clearlyin your voice.
“Fuck, Y/N. I should stretch you out more. I don’t think you should take it like this.” He knows he’s above average and he’s unsure that between the darkness and your horny haze you've realized quite what you’re up against in the short span of the mutual masturbation session that’s happened.
“I felt it. I know you’ve got a big dick. I don’t care. Fuck. Me.”
He hesitates to argue with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you but he can feel the warm wet heat enticing the head of his cock and it’s hard to ignore the call. He loses his battle and sinks himself into you. He brings his hand back to your hip and holds himself still as you shake through acclimating to his size.
“Oh god, fuck.” He can feel your pussy tightening around him, the pulses of your walls essentially jerking him off and it’s taking all his resistance not to start rocking his hips up to meet your ass.
“I-” He’s cut off as soon as he tries to start.
“You better not say ‘I told you so’ while you’re inside me or else you’ll never be again.” The possibility of this happening again shut him up pretty quickly.
He opts to try and ease you into the feeling, lets his hand trace along your skin, up to your torso. He peppers kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder. His hand seeks out a breast under your shirt and gently takes it into his palm, massaging the flesh as his fingers tweak at the nipple.
He tries to imagine what it must look like pebbled between his thumb and index; the color of them in contrast to your skin. He’s overwhelmed with the urge to slip it between his teeth and test how hard he could nibble at it before you broke, but the current position makes it impossible and he doesn’t dare switch it now.
Your breathing becomes heavier at every pinch and twist. He can feel your chest heaving under his hand and you’re melting against him. The chokehold your pussy has on his cock also lets up a little, allowing you to rock back and forth seeking more friction.
“I’m ready.” Your voice calls him back. “You can move. Fuck me.” He starts slow and careful, long languid strokes out until only the head stays inside you, and back in with a smooth confident thrust; letting as much of his length fit as he can from this angle.
He lets his hand wander once he feels you matching his strokes, backing up to meet him at each push in. Your skin is damp under his palm and the sticky feeling would usually bother him, but he’s too enthralled by the little noises that you make with each movement.
Your hand chases after his, following where he cups at your breast, pinches at your nipple, and he notes the hitch in your breath when his large palm settles loosely at the base of your throat. He’ll have to file that one away for another day.
You eventually seem to grow frustrated with his teasing touches because you drag his hand back south and into your underwear. He spreads his fingers around where the two of you are joined. He can feel your arousal coat his cock and your pussy stretch around him, sucking him in at every stroke.
He brings his fingers up to finally give your neglected clit the attention it’s been craving. You can feel how it’s throbbing with desire. You don’t bother trying to suppress the moan that comes out in nearly a scream when Namjoon presses against your bundle of nerves with skillful pressure and maddening circles.
It’s still slow. Everything is infuriatingly slow but you can’t find your voice through the groans and gasps to ask for more, so you let him set his torturous pace and drown in the electricity coursing through your body.
You take up the mantle that he’d been forced to leave behind. You feel too good to ask to change positions but you mourn the lack of his other hand which is forced under him, unable to wreck the same havoc on your body as its twin. Your right hand travels to your torso, attempting to mimic his earlier teasing while your left holds onto his wrist between your legs to keep yourself grounded.
You melt into his touch, head lolling into the pillow. Namjoon takes advantage of your neck opening up. He finally gets to use his right arm to push his upper body enough to dip his head down where your shoulder meets your neck to attach his lips to your skin. The added feeling of his teeth biting down, paired with a hard suck and lick of his tongue sends you reeling. You push back harder, urging him to thrust in rougher, as deep as the position allows.
“So big, Joonie. Can feel you so deep.” You’re pushing his buttons and it works. You’re riling him up and he lets it happen. You sacrifice the feeling of his fingers on your clit to bring them up just above your pubic bone and push down hard making the head of his dick hit against the front of your walls. You know he can feel it push against his hand every time he hits home.
You know when he registered what’s happening because he’s pistoning into you with renewed vigor, each thrust stronger than the one before. The new pressure from his hand makes everything feel euphoric.
“Shit, Y/N. So fucking tight around me. You feel so good, sweetheart.” The praise falls from his lips without thought and the endearment slips through with ease but there’s no time to focus on it. You’re clenching around him, being brought to the edge.
Your hand replaces where his had been, fingers wild and frantic on your clit, pushing you towards your orgasm. It doesn’t take long to hit and your body goes rigid in his arms. Your muscles scream as they twitch and the wave radiates out from your core and washes over you to the tips of your limbs.
The shaking in your body subsides but the throes of pleasure still buzz under your skin from where Namjoon hasn’t slowed. He continues to push and pull his way into your body, keeping the tension alive.
“You sound so fucking hot when you cum. Feel so perfect around my cock.” No words come in reply to his, only mindless moans answer the praise. You want to tell him how good he feels inside you too, how you still need him so desperately.
“More!” You manage to gulp through the overwhelming feeling surrounding you. “Want to feel you deeper.”
His hips stutter in response, your words hit him in the pit of his stomach. He wants to give you more, whatever you want but he can’t go any further from this angle.
“Gonna have to move us around for that, okay?” His voice is muffled from where his mouth is still dug into the crook of your neck, breath heavy near your ear.
You’re nodding without giving it much thought. Whatever he wants, he can do anything he wants. You’d agree to anything if it meant getting more of the addictive feeling coursing through your veins.
His cock slips out of you and you barely have the time to whine at the loss that a yelp escapes you instead as you’re hauled up and around to land firmly on his lap, underwear being ripped away in the switch, Namjoon now spread beneath you. Your hands fly forward to balance yourself, knees planted on either side of his hips.
“Holy hell, I was kidding earlier with the tits comment but…” You let your hands finish the implication as they grab at the flesh of his chest, nails digging into his skin. “Can you flex for a second?”
His muscles tense under your touch and you can’t help the groan that slips out in response. His chest is rock hard now and you feel your body rise with the strength imbued in it. You let your hands drift downwards, nails dragging behind. You wonder if the marks will still be there tomorrow for you to see the damage you're leaving in the light of day.
You can feel each bump on his abdomen where the muscles bulge out and dip back in. You’re surprised to feel the smooth velvet tip of his cock hit your hand so quickly. You’re barely halfway down his abs and the realization of how big Namjoon actually is sinks in.
The previous position wouldn’t have had him remotely close to fully sheathed inside you. The anticipation of really feeling his entire length has you grinding down and sliding along him, trapping him between his stomach and your sopping folds.
He bucks up to meet the pressure, hands holding firm on your waist, following the pace you’ve set. He lets you roll on him, his sensitive head catching on your clit and every loop which elicits moans from both of you.
He’s sure he could cum from this alone, but he’s aching to feel you sink down on him entirely. There’s a desperate plea on the tip of his tongue, an encouragement for you to lead him back inside but he keeps quiet. He wants you to make the decision and go at the pace you need. Despite the shift in situation, Namjoon still feels the vulnerability you’re under.
His hand drifts up, letting fire spread along your skin. The electricity in the air isn’t only from the storm anymore. He’s gentle as he cups your breast, content when he can feel your chest arching forward to chase after the pressure of his touch. Your nipple pebbles despite the hot and humid air.
“Perfect,” he murmurs under his breath. He’s sure it’s low enough to stay a private confession but the low moans mixed with your thighs tightening against his hips reveal otherwise.
The praise urges you on, reigniting your movements. Namjoon almost fears you’re moving away, off from your seat on top of him. His hands are quick to reach back for yours; a silent imploration to stay but they’re unnecessary. The pressure on his chest where you anchor yourself grounds him. There’s a shake where your balance falters so you can reach beneath you and grab at his cock, holding it straight towards your core.
The darkness hadn’t bothered Namjoon until this moment. He’ll rue this day for his entire life for stealing the vision of your expression as you slowly sink down on his entire length for the first time. The whimpers that escape, as you take each inch further, are only teases compared to the satisfied groan that comes once you’re fully settled back in his lap. The entire situation is torture. The heat of the stifling summer night is nothing compared to the scorching embrace of your walls around him. There’s aftershocks of your muscles spazzing around him that pair with more moans while you acclimate to the feeling of him inside you.
Namjoon’s mouth is dry and his brain is empty. There’s a strong instinct to move, a twitch in his arms to use his strength to lift you up enough to have you slam back down but he resists.
He can hear your breathing even out, big gulps of air diminishing to a more normal rhythm. You’re fidgeting, torso lowering to come parallel to his until your breath hits his throat. He doesn’t even realize your hand had snaked away until it lands in his hair and you pull on the strands to allow your lips to stroke at the cartilage of his ear, a warm tickle accompanying your words.
“You’re so big, Joonie. Feel so full.” He knows it’s the sign he was waiting for when you end the compliment with a strong squeeze that he can feel through his entire body. All the restraint he had exhibited snaps.
It all happens at once. He reaches for a fistful of your hair to keep you still as he clumsily seeks for your lips with his own. The kiss is aggressive and too full of teeth clanking together at first. It eventually melts into something more salacious. Your lips are hot and slippery but Namjoon is aiming for more.
You’re too distracted to notice that his stance has changed. He jostles you as he plants his feet into your mattress to give him the best angle to properly pound into you. The first hard thrust is paired with a well timed bite of your lip which has you opening your mouth with a shout of pleasure. He takes advantage of the position to delve his tongue into a battle with yours, turning the dirty kiss into an even wetter mess.
Neither of you can hear the storm over the slaps of skin, low groans, and high whines from inside the room. “You hear how wet this pussy is for me? Sound so fucking pretty, bet it looks even better. We’ll have to do this again, right? So I can see you leaking over my cock properly.”
If you’re answering him it’s unintelligible in the mumbles melted into the moans that continue to spill out of you. He’s taking it as an agreement from the tightening of your core around him.
His legs eventually lower behind you, pushing you to straighten back up and work to keep up the faltering rhythm. The heat and late hour seeps into your bones but the exhaustion that lies at the edge of your consciousness is no match for the fire in your veins that feeds the lust inside you. Your hands reach behind you and grab onto meaty thighs. God, you’ll need to talk about those in the morning because you don’t have the energy to trigger another round tonight. Your head falls, back arching towards the sky. It gives Namjoon the opportunity to roam your body, soft strokes and harsh grasps.
“Come on, Joonie. What good are those big biceps for if you can’t fuck me harder?” The taunt works like magic to reinvigorate him. Large hands come back to your waist, palms digging hard into your body above your hip bones. His thumbs aim towards your core, pushing into the softness above your pelvis. It’s not as obvious as the first position on your side but he can definitely feel the shift under your skin where the pressure of his thrusting cock pushes against his fingers.
“Shit, Y/N, never felt pussy this good. My perfect girl. Are you close? Can you cum for me, baby?”
“Y-yeah, so close- fuck. You feel so good.” It wasn’t a lie, you’ve teetered on the edge for a while but you just needed a little extra push. Namjoon’s hold on you is strong enough to allow you to sneak a hand to where the two of you are joined. There’s only a flash of pleasure before your fingers are slapped away.
“Nuh uh, my job. If you want to be touched a certain way just ask for it. You’re a big girl, use your words.”
If he kept talking to you like that maybe you wouldn’t need the extra help after all but that’s an experiment for another day. “Please, Joonie, want to cum. Touch me.”
He dares to slow the pace, still upkeep the long hard strokes that hit deep inside you. “Is that the best you can do? You’re about to cum all over my cock and I’m still just Joonie? You’re not being very clear, you know. I’ve got my hands on you, I’m already touching. Be more precise. What do you want, princess?”
He’ll be the death of you, you can already tell you’ve set yourself up. Your words are coming out in choked sobs, your climax on the brink. “Please!” you exclaim, “Namjoon, please play with my clit and make me cum all over your big cock.”
He didn’t expect you to take the bait so strongly, but you asked so politely, who would he be to deny your request.
“Good girl. I’ll give you anything you ask for if you do it like that. Look all innocent but you’re just a desperate little thing, aren’t you?” His words are paired with increased speed. He pistons into you with such force that you swear you’re floating above him. The world falls away when his thumb finally comes to rub tantalizing circles around your nub, the movement a little clumsy form how wet it is between your thighs.
It doesn’t take much to reach elation. White light explodes behind your eyes making you believe the power may have returned for a second. There’s electricity living in your nerves that travel down your limbs. There’s a rawness in your throat you assume was birthed from the scream that still echoes around the room.
You catch your breath on a pile of loose limbs draped over your new roommate’s huge frame. Your muscles are spasming from the outside in. You can tell that Namjoon definitely feel it from how tense his muscles feel under your fingers. You purposefully constrict around him and the answering grunt confirms your suspicions.
It takes a second to gather enough strength to sit back up while keeping him snuggly inside you. You wish you could look into his eyes as you roll your hips over him. You know it’s not as stimulating as the hard thrusts from earlier but the sweet sounds you hear from under you seem to have him perfectly content.
“Fuck, you never stop surprising me but you really need to get off because I can’t last anymore.” There’s a tension in his tone, one that you’d hear from someone holding onto a loosening grip that could result in falling to their doom.
You let the nail from your index dig into his skin and leave a burning sensation behind as your scratch down the valley of his pecs, from his clavicle to his abdominals. “Good. Then my plan is working. Your turn to cum for me.”
“Oh, I will. The second you get off me, it’s torture to keep it in, so please-” It’s his turn to beg but you’re not as ready to give in to his demand this time around. You only double your efforts, rolling hips and tight squeezes.
“Go on, then. You wanted me to ask for what I want? Cum. I’m safe and I want you to cum inside me, Namjoon.”
There’s black magic in the way you say his name, it’s hypnotizing. Or maybe it’s the imaginary visual of what you’d look like splayed out with his cum seeping out of you that does it.
He brings his fingers back to your sensitive clit and the pressure is almost too much. You nearly beg him to give you a break but he interrupts you before you can start. “One more time, with me. If you want me to fill up that sweet pussy, you’ll have to milk it out of me.”
You can’t tell whether it’s the pressure on your clit or the dirty words from his mouth, but the wave of pleasure comes back with a mighty force and crashes through you again. You can feel your core tightening around him in spasms which triggers his own release. You can feel his cock spurting inside you, an extra layer of warmth seeping into you. You can’t hold yourself anymore and flop onto Namjoon, both of your breaths heavy and labored.
His hand strokes comfort onto your back. You don’t even mind how sweaty you both are, sticking to each other. “We should get cleaned up,” he suggests.
You dig your face into the crook of his neck in protest. “No. Tomorrow. Don’t want to move. You still feel good, don’t want you to pull out.” You purposefully twitch to make your point. His cock may be softening but it’s still firmly plugging you up. You both know you’ll regret it in the morning but you couldn’t care right now.
The exhaustion you both feel settles into contentment as sleep pulls you in. You both fall asleep without even noticing that the storm has also fallen into slumber.
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Okay, so maybe Namjoon was a little dramatic about being abandoned because it’s only a week later when Yoongi is back in his old apartment from a weekend brunch date with his friends.
You and Jin are bonding in the kitchen. Yoongi can hear his boyfriend’s windshield wiper laugh mixed with your giggles that he’s always compared to a hyena. He expected the atmosphere to be a little awkward when he came in, both of the new roommates a little shy and fond of individual activities.
But when he let himself in earlier he found both his friends sharing the couch in the living room, each with a book in hand,which wasn’t surprising, but your feet perched on Namjoon’s lap, that was a little surprising.
He had let that slide easily enough. His suspicion returns simply from how much smiling Namjoon has been doing. Smiles wouldn’t be odd for most but Yoongi has heard that man’s music lately and he’s the definition of a Sad Boi™.
The pieces fall into place when you bring in the plates and there’s lingering. From your fingers on Namjoon’s when you exchange the dish to his eyes on your ass when you turn away. Yoongi stares Namjoon down, deadpan. His friend’s eyes widen in panic once he realizes he’s been caught. Yoongi’s always been able to read him like a book.
“You motherfucker,” Yoongi spats at him just as you reenter the room.
“Now now, Yoongles. Do we need to call Dr. Lee to go through your mommy issues again? We’ve already established I’m not your mother.” You take a seat on Namjoon’s lap as if to make a point. “Besides, there’s only one person that gets to call me mommy now.” The look you and Namjoon share might be the final drop that makes him go dig for his old psych’s number that night.
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Our Little Secret
kai parker x reader
summary: you should've known wearing a short little skirt would rile him up. but then again... maybe you did it on purpose. (80s!kai) (step-brother!kai)
tags: teasing, possessiveness, praise kink, degradation, dirty talk, oral sex, blowjobs, vaginal sex
word count: 4.2k
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“You look cute,” a male voice comes up behind you, “where are you going?”
You turn abruptly to see Kai, watching you from the other side of the kitchen. His gaze travels up and down your body, but he’s clearly staring at your ass. It almost makes you drop the soapy dish you’re holding. 
“Um, thank you.”
“Where are you going?” He repeats, eyes darkening.
“Nowhere.”
“Y/N-”
“I’m serious! I’m not going anywhere, I just felt like looking cute. Trust me, Kai. Do you ever see me leave this house?”
His jaw relaxes, knowing you’re telling the truth. “So you just felt like romping around in a short little skirt? Dad won’t be happy if he sees you in it.”
“Well Dad’s not here right now,” you point out. This is also true. Joshua was out for the weekend on coven duties. He won’t be back until late Monday. 
“Mom won’t like it, either.”
“She’s never minded me wearing what I want. As long as it’s appropriate to wear around the kids.”
“She scolded Jo just last week for wearing jeans that were too tight.”
“Well this is a skirt.”
“I can see the bottom of your ass, Y/N.”
“Why are you looking at my ass, Kai?”
“Because you have it on display for me to see.”
“I do not! I’m just doing dishes and minding my own business!”
“You would get so busted for that skirt if Mom saw. Joey would be staring, too. You know he has a crush on you.”
“Are you jealous?”
“No.”
“Then stop talking about my skirt and just… go away.”
“I came to get a snack.”
“Then get it and go.”
Kai crosses the kitchen towards the fridge, and you finally think he’s dropped it. With his back turned, you bend down to put the plate in the dishwasher, then continue soaping up another. Little do you know that Kai’s watching you through the metal reflection of the fridge door. He licks his lips when your ass is on full display. 
“Y’know this is my house,” he suddenly challenges. 
You whip around to face him, annoyed. “So?!”
“You can’t boss me around in my own house.”
“Do you pay the bills? Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“I was here first. And I’m older than you.”
“Do you want an award?”
He eyes your figure again. “Are you offering?”
“Ugh! Stop it!” 
“Oh don’t act like you don’t like the attention. Why else would you wear that pretty little piece in an empty house?”
“I didn’t feel like putting on pants.”
He chuckles. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”
You groan and turn back around, desperate to avoid his gaze any longer. 
Kai’s not completely wrong, but you’re not exactly lying, either. Yes, it’s true that you didn’t want to put on pants. Yes… it’s also true that you wanted to gain attention from your step-brother. There, you finally said it. You do like his attention. It’s his fault, though. He’s always flirting with you, regardless if the rest of the family is home or not. 
His eyes are always on you, at your back or front, whichever he can get. Countless times you’ve turned suddenly and caught him staring. A handful of those times, his own mother has tried to get his attention but struggled to pull it away from your breasts. His mother, of course, is none the wiser and assumes he’s daydreaming, but you know he’s not. He’ll smirk at you after, if he’s caught, and won’t let her believe anything scandalous was happening instead. 
Kai’s also gotten physical with you more times than you can remember. He’ll slide past you in a crowded kitchen, hands in the air as he’s banned from touching anyone, but his groin will brush your ass as he slinks across the room. Twice, you’ve felt the outline of his cock in his jeans when he did it. Both times, your face got so hot you needed to step away from the situation. 
He also has a habit of bumping into you. If you’re doing dishes or putting something away, he’ll suddenly appear, suddenly needing to do the same thing. Your shoulders or hips meet from his unexpected presence, and then he apologizes with a voice that does things to you. Either his morning voice, slightly rough, or his soft, midday voice, or the one heard at night, when he’s all talked out and dehydrated. Sometimes he’s close enough you can smell coffee on his breath, or mint, or even gin. Sometimes he lets his hand wander to the small of your back, or further down by your waist. When his family enters the room, he rips himself away from you. The bubbling warmth between you quickly goes cold and leaves you hungry. 
“Y/N… Y/N… hello?!” 
You blink twice, realizing Kai’s right next to you. A tupperware is in one hand, while the other waves in front of your face. “What?!”
“Jeez! Just asking if you wanted some of this.”
“What is it?”
“Leftover cake from Sarah’s birthday party. It’s chocolate,” he says the last part in a sing-songy voice.
“I know, I was there.”
“Do you want any?”
“No.”
“Awh, come on, Y/N… you know you do.”
“Fine. I’ll have a bite if you’re heating it up.”
His face breaks out into a grin and he mutters a celebratory, “yes!” to himself, then spins around to the microwave. 
“Put it all on a plate and gimme the dish. What’s one more dish to wash?”
“Okay. And thanks for doing that.”
“Mhm.” 
He leaves you alone while it warms. You turn slightly, wondering why he’s quiet, but see him on the other counter pouring two glasses of milk. You’re quick to face the sink again, not wanting him to see you looking at him. 
“So why cake?” You question as the two-minute timer beeps. “Don’t you usually eat pretty healthy?”
Kai shrugs. “Usually. But one dessert was denied, so I was craving something to fill its place.”
“What the fuck was- oh.”
“I mean, I’ll have two if you change your mind.”
You look down, avoiding his stupid smirk. 
“Kidding. Have a bite.”
Two minutes is the max time you get to eat in silence. After that, Kai swallows a big bite then looks back at you.
“In all seriousness, you do look really pretty.”
“Thank you,” you say, unsure how to take the compliment.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“What?”
“I’m just asking in case I have to kick someone’s ass! For like, brotherly reasons.”
You roll your eyes. “No, I do not have a boyfriend.”
“Good.” He’s then quick to follow with, “I mean, like, cause Dad would kick his ass, too. That, or turn him straight to dust. Poof! Did you know that Josette’s boyfriend had to go through three weeks of questioning just to take her on one date?”
“Yes, Kai, I was there. I’ve been living here for three years.”
“Right.”
“Did you see the time my brother got his ass beat for bugging me when I tried to eat?” You counter, challenging him.
“Joey?”
“No, dumbass, you.”
“Oh. Wait-” he puts his fork down as he realizes. “Sorry.”
You meant it as a joke, but his frown tells you he didn’t catch that. 
“Hey, I’m gonna go back upstairs. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“Wait, Kai!” He doesn’t stop. “Kai!” You try again, reaching out to grab his arm. 
He freezes, not used to such direct contact. 
“I was joking, Kai,” you look in his eyes to say. “I promise. I really do like your company.”
“No you don’t, I bother you as much as I bother Jo.”
Your grip tightens. “No, you don’t. Kai, I’m serious. And I’m sorry. It went too far.”
Finally, he turns to you. “Honest?”
“Honest.”
“Pinky swear?”
You snort, then realize he’s serious. “Pinky swear.”
He grins at this, then slowly returns to the side opposite you, where he had been only seconds ago.
“As a matter of fact,” you continue, “you don’t bug me at all.”
He chuckles and looks at the floor. “I’m sure I bug you a little.”
“No, you really don’t.”
“What about earlier? That wasn’t annoying?”
Now or never to confess. You pick the former. 
“Oh, no. I certainly do enjoy your attention. Even when it's on my ass.”
“Oh, do you now?”
You don’t answer. Instead, you bring your chocolatey fork up to your lips, licking the whole length, and sticking your tongue out to him. You keep eye contact with him, watching his cheeks flush bright red. 
“Y/N…”
“What? We’re all alone… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t partially wear this little skirt for you.”
His adam’s apple bobs in his throat.
“Awh, what happened to the bold Kai I know that will rub his morning wood against my back in the middle of a crowded kitchen? Is he shy?” You tease.
“Y/N, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…”
“Oh, I think I do. Come on… I bet an afternoon hard is just as satisfying. Oh, but maybe we should wait a couple hours, for when I can literally taste the gin off your breath. Aw, nah, because then the window of opportunity will close. Jo will be home, and all those kids, and you’ll have to see your little brother blush at me without the pride of having owned me earlier in the day.”
“Y/N,” his voice is raspy. His hand ghosts over his pants, and when you follow the movement with your eyes, you see he’s rock hard. 
“Come on, Kai… You want to be a good stepbrother and beat up my nonexistent boyfriend? Well be a better one and fuck me right now.”
He only hesitates for a second more before rushing forward, pressing your back up against the sink, and kissing you roughly. He grips the countertop with one hand, your waist with the other. The plate of chocolate crumbs clatters into the sink, piercing your ears, but neither of you care. Your hands find his cheeks to get a grip. You hold them gently, but they’re burning in your hands. He’s a good kisser, despite having no experience. Before you know it, you’re both out of breath. 
“Kai,” you try to say his name, but it comes out in more of a moan. The two of you are separated, panting, and staring at the other. 
“You okay?”
“Perfect.”
He smiles, then starts to trail kisses down your neck. Your hands find his hair and pull at the roots. 
“Jump up,” he mutters. You do, and he catches your hips. He carries you to the other side of the counter, then sits you up on it. With gentle movements, he leans your back against the cabinet door. Had he sat you up by the sink, you would’ve had no support for your back. You give him a sloppy kiss as a thank you. 
Kai smiles at you, but then instead of going back to your neck, he crouches just a little on his knees. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you let out an involuntary whine. Your hands bunch up your skirt and he smirks.
“Smart girl.” He wastes no time pulling down your thong, then stuffing it in his back pocket. The cold air only hits your core for a second before his fingers find your clit, rubbing gently. 
“Ohh, Kai,” you whine.
“That’s it, princess. Keep whining for me.”
You let out another, this time, between sealed lips. 
Kai puts a finger in you without warning. “Louder, baby.”
“Kai, I can’t.”
“Oh, yes you can. No one else is here.” He puts in another. 
You can feel the soft pads of his fingers on your walls. “More,” you whimper. 
“Good girl,” he praises.
You squeeze your eyes shut as wetness gushes from your body. You’ve always had a praise kink, and he’s about to find out. 
“You like that?”
You nod quickly.
“Well keep it up. Keep making those sweet little sounds for me.”
You nod again, eyes still closed. With your eyes shut, though, you have no warning when his nose is suddenly grazing your clit. As soon as it touches, though, you let out a loud moan, almost pornographic. 
“Good girl,” he says again, hot breath up against your core. Then, it’s his tongue making contact with your clit. He teases the nub with the tip, then slides it between your folds.
Your hands dig in his hair and moans fly out of your mouth. “Kai!”
He doesn’t answer this time. All his focus is on you. Two fingers still explore inside, while his tongue laps up your wetness. Obscene slurping sounds fill the room, mixed with your own cries. Kai can’t even catch all of it with his tongue - some drips to the title floor with a loud splat, and you can feel the curvature of his lips against your skin. 
The boy is an expert, despite probably being a virgin. He knows just how to flick his tongue; just how to curl his fingers. 
“Kai, I’m coming,” you cry out, gripping the countertops. Your hands are sweaty and you almost slip. In an instant, his hands catch you, even the one that had been inside your heat. “No, don’t stop what you’re doing,” you mutter, eyes rolling in the back of your head.
“Sorry, princess,” he replies, putting them back. He then finds the pace he had before, and works to bring you back to the edge. 
Moments later, your orgasm is the most powerful you’ve ever had. No other man, nor your own fingers have ever done justice to what he could do with his tongue. He sucks and finger-fucks you throughout your orgasm, paying no mind to the way you squeeze your legs around his head, nor the way you begin to ride his face as you come. Kai doesn’t let up until your legs are shaking, and your heavy moans become little whimpers. Only then, does he stand back up and smile at you. 
“You okay?”
“Fuck, Kai.”
“Too much?”
“No. Never.”
“Too much for round two?”
“What?” You mutter, out of breath.
“We can stop if you’re tired.”
You fight to catch your breath, and in that time, happen to glance down. Your eyes go wide as you notice he’s pulled out his cock. Stiff as a board, red, and oozing with pre-cum, it rests in his hand. 
“No, no stopping. Just… give me a minute.”
“We don’t have to, princess.”
“No, I want it. I want you.”
You then make an attempt to jump down from the countertop, but your arms are still shaky. He catches you in an instant, an eyebrow raised.
“Where are you going, little peach?”
A tired whimper escapes the back of your throat as you open your mouth to speak. Despite the grip he still has on both your arms, you manage to sink down to your knees. Halfway down, Kai realizes what’s happening and lets go. 
“Aw, does my little bunny want to suck her stepbrother’s cock?” Kai takes himself in his hands and levels with your face. “You’re a good girl, you know that?”
You blush, and fight the urge to turn your face away. 
“Eyes on me,” he says, seemingly knowing your thoughts. 
You obey him, eyes bouncing between his face and his length. Your heart speeds up at the prospect of taking it. Of feeling it heavy in your mouth; feeling it hit the back of your throat. 
“Can I?”
“Go ahead, princess.”
Your hands join his. Your eyes roll back in your head at how good it feels. When you look up to him, he nods, and you dart your tongue out to taste the pre-cum leaking from the tip. It’s thick, and salty, and if that’s just your first taste, you know you need to start working for more. You lick the head, swirling your tongue in circles. Your lips suck the first few inches. 
“No more teasing.” He tries to be stern, but it comes out in a moan. 
You then put a hand on his thigh for a better grip. The jeans underneath your skin are uncomfortable. 
“Off,” you mutter, hands flying to his belt. 
“Hm? Oh.”
But you’re faster than Kai. Before he can give you any help, you’re unbuckling the metal and peeling his pants down his legs. You’re sure to be careful at his cock, though, pulling it back through the zipper hole, then letting it free.
Kai steps out from the pool of his pants. “Better for you now?”
“Mhm,” you mumble, lips pressed on his length. The action sends vibrations all over and he can’t help but moan again.
Your hand on his thigh squeezes his skin enough that it’ll bruise under your fingernails. Kai only has a second to concentrate on this, though, because in the next second, you’re licking a stripe from his balls to his head. Your tongue is dense against a prominent vein, earning another sound from him. Kai’s hands dig into your hair. He fights the urge to buck his hips into your mouth. 
“Y/N,” he warns. If you don’t stop teasing now, he’ll do just that.
Luckily, you catch onto his need. Your lips curl around his head, tongue flat, and you begin to move up and down on his length. You start slow, but as he gets wetter, your lips glide better. The hand holding him no longer has a use, the first time you take him all the way. It slips further back to tug on his balls, while his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly. 
Kai keeps his hands on you, buried in your hair, scratching your scalp. Profanities tumble from his lips; words that if his dad were to hear, he’d be beat for days. You smirk against his cock, knowing he can feel your lips curving. 
“You’re a naughty little thing, peach. You like that?”
You respond by not losing pace, not slowing down for a second. 
“Mhm,” he confirms, “what a good little slut you are. Taking her brother’s cock so well. Tell me, princess, is this something you think about at night? How many times have you touched yourself to the thought of this happening?”
Again, you don’t answer. 
“One? Two? Three? More?”
Your hand on his balls travels up to squeeze his ass. The skin is soft between your fingers, and you quickly put your other hand on his other cheek.
“I’ll take that as more than three times,” he chuckles. 
You pinch his cheek unexpectedly, making him jolt. His reaction makes you giggle. When you look up to see his reaction, there’s a smile on his face, too. 
“You look beautiful on your knees for me,” he praises. But then his hands find your face and he slowly eases you off his cock. “So, so beautiful. But I’m getting close and I need to be inside you.”
You nod, wanting the same. 
Kai then grabs you from under your armpits, helping you to your feet. When you’re stable, he hoists you back onto the countertop. Not a moment later, he’s kissing your lips, sore, and red from sucking. Then, at the same time that he hitches your skirt back up your thighs, he presses kisses all around your face. You giggle, his lips tingling your skin, and wrap your arms around his neck. 
“Are you ready?” You shake your head ‘yes’. “Need a minute?” You shake it ‘no’. “Okay. Tell me if you need me to stop.”
“Okay.”
Kai holds your back steady. His cock is in his other, glistening with your spit; teased, and in need of release. He pushes into you slowly, letting you adjust. He keeps an eye on your face, watching for signs; hoping for pleasure, prepared for pain. Your eyes flutter as he passes your folds. Your mouth hangs open, spit dribbles from your bottom lip. The pair of you moan at once, both relishing in the feeling of his cock inside you. He smiles at the simultaneous sound of pleasure.
“Are you doing okay?”
“Mhm.”
“Words, please, princess.”
“Yes, Kai,” you manage. 
“There you go. Good girl.”
“Go faster.”
“Already? Alright. Gotta give my good little slut what she wants.” 
You duck your head in embarrassment. The way he switches between praise and degradation does something to you that you can’t explain. Your core is so sopping wet that he slides in and out painlessly. He pulls out nearly all the way, then slams back into you hurriedly. 
“Ah, ah, eyes on me. I want to look into your pretty little eyes while I ruin you.”
You whine at his words and tighten your arms around his neck.
“Perfect. Keep making those sounds, Y/N. You know the drill by now.”
Kai finds a pace that suits you both. Sweat drips from his forehead and his mouth hangs open, out of breath, but he isn’t slowing down. You’re grateful that he’s holding your back, otherwise you would’ve fallen by now. 
“Kai!” You cry, hooking your legs around his waist to bring him even closer. He groans, and you decide to feed into that dirty talk he seems to like. “You fuck me so well. You’re a perfect fit for my tight cunt - oh!”
As expected, he loves it. “You bet I am, princess. Have you ever had anyone else fuck you this well?” 
“No! You know just what I need.”
“Not even that boy you went to prom with last year? I heard you telling Jo about your little after-party with him.”
“I just imagined he was you, Kai,” you admit. “And any hookup since, I just pretend it’s you fucking me into oblivion.”
Fire burns in his eyes. A possessiveness that tells you all you need to know - he owns you now. You’re his girl. There will be no more pretending, because he’ll be the only one fucking you. 
Kai continues to pound into you, but he’s getting sloppier by the second. He’s close, and you are, too. 
“I’m gonna come, Kai,” you pant, running a hand through his hair. It’s wet with his own sweat, and when you push it up, some of the strands stay. 
“Do it. Come for me. I’m close behind you.”
Permission granted, you orgasm a second time. Your body shakes and moans tumble from your lips. His name is mixed in with them; you chant it over and over like a prayer. 
“I don’t want to come in you, baby,” he manages to say. “Where should I-?”
You lift your shirt up over your head before he can finish his sentence. Kai’s eyes immediately go to your breasts, confined within your bra, but pushed up from the underwire. In the same moment he pulls out, you unclasp the hook on your back. Your tits bounce out from their cage just to be pelted with cum a moment later. You moan again, pleasured by the warmth of his seed on your body. 
Kai’s hands fall to the countertop as he tries to keep himself upright. The sounds falling from his lips are obscene, and beautiful, and you love every one of them. His eyes roll before looking into yours. Both of you take a minute to recover. 
“Your tits,” he finally says, still catching his breath, “are beautiful. Should’ve taken that bra off a long time ago.”
“There’s always a next time,” you suggest, hoping to see that glint in his eye. 
The words take a moment to register in his brain. When he looks back up at you, though, you see it. The possessiveness; the mischievousness. You’ll never belong to another man again. 
“Definitely a next time,” he repeats. 
Satisfied with the answer, you feel a small tension in your jaw relax. You look down at your breasts, sticky with drying cum, and swipe a bit of the load on your finger. Kai watches you suck it off, then go back for more. Once your chest is clear, you smack your lips. 
“You’re crazy, Y/N,” he leans forward and nips one of your tits. You giggle, then cover your front with your hands. Kai quickly grabs your hands, then sucks on the other tit. “That’s why I like you. Part of it, at least.” He drops your hands and looks you in the eye, completely serious. 
“I like you, too, Kai.”
He helps you off the counter in his next stride. You’re smoothing out your skirt, and he pulls up his pants, when he suddenly asks, “was what you said true?”
“When?”
“About the prom. And the hookups. Do you really imagine me?”
“It’s the only way I can get off.”
His face breaks out in a stupidly happy grin. “Does Jo know?”
You snort. “I wish. But of course not. It’s my little secret.”
“Well now this is our little secret,” he points a finger between the two of you. 
“That it is. And I just happen to be amazing at keeping secrets.” You throw him a wink, and then the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon talking, with the occasional break for a make-out session. 
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lucerothings1 · 11 months
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Step-daddy
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Michele Morrone x male reader smut
Warnings: gay sex, daddy kink, doggy and missionary position, top Michele, bottom reader, unprotected sex, oral, a bit of overstimulation, rough fucking.
Summary: your mom left for a work trip leaving your hot step dad and you alone in the house but one day you catch your step-dad.
It had been little over a year now since your mother had remarried to a man named Michele after you father had passed away when you where ten and now you where nineteen so she had stopped herself from finding some until you seemed okay with the whole ordeal.
Today you had woken up to find your mom gone from the house to your surprise. On your bedside table there read a sticky note saying “Hey honey I was called in last night to go to meetings out of town so I won’t be back till Friday of this week have a good day at school if anything Michele offered to stay so he’s there for anything be safe love mom”
As you got up from bed and threw on some clothes to go to school and as you walked down there he was your step-dad Michele leaning on the kitchen island eating his breakfast.
“Hey kid good morning I made some breakfast want any before you head out” he said with his strong accent in his voice as he continued to eat with just some pj bottoms and his shirtless torso in display. “Um no I’m good thank you Michele I’m just gonna leave” “ Okay suit yourself” he replied waving goodbye as you walked out the door and headed to school.
“Why is no one here” you asked your self as you tried to pull on the door to be surprised to read on a pice of paper stating “There will be no school on Monday” as you sighed and headed back into your car and drove off back to your house.
As you pulled up you had pulled out your house key and started to open the door before you could yell out “I’m home” you had payed attention and could hear some load moans coming from upstairs level of your house.
As you took off your shoes and backpack quietly leaving them on the ground by the front door to not be heard coming up the stairs. As you walked through the hallway towards your mom and stepdads room the moans had become even loader.
The door was slightly open so you could see that the nosies where coming from porn on the tv of the room. As you keeled looking the worst thing that could happen happened the fucking floor cracked underneath your foot “shit” you whispered out.
“Who’s there M/n” your stepdad had yelled. As you had no other option then to open the door to find your stepdad stroking his cock with one hand as you enters the room and making your face turn red as you looked down at your feet in embarrassment.
“Come on M/n look up no need to be embarrassed where don’t men” he said still on his bed now putting his dick in his pjs again. “I’m sorry I forgot that school was closed today and I didn’t yell out so you would know I was here” you started blurring out “shhhh” it fine Michele said looking at you “why don’t you come over here” he said touching his monster bulge in between his legs as you looked up and headed towards the bed to sit down on the edge.
“Come closer here” he said pulling you close and gracing ahold of your hand as he palmed his on hard on with your hand. “This is wrong your my stepdad your married with my mom” “That doesn’t matter right now your moms not here is she we are” he said pulling you into a kiss as you gave him entrance into your mouth letting him explore it with his tongue.
“Undress yourself for me baby” he said in your ear making you go hard as you started to take off your shirt and pants and socks leaving you only in your jockstrap as you as well pulled off his pjs leaving him in his underwear.
“Come here” he said getting a hold of your waist and pulling to on top of his lap as his back was supported by the bed frame as you continuedmaking out as he traveled his hands down your waist all the way to your ass as he started to knead it like if it where dough causing you to man into the kisses
As he kissed down your neck making you moan again “why don’t you show me what this little mouth of yours can do” he said as you obeyed him and went down to his underwear removing them and starting to suck on his 11 inch cock as he pushed your mouth onto his manhood making you gag on his cock.
“Oh fuck your mouth was made to suck cock my cock” he heavily said as he pushed you down all the way to his base now feeling his pubs on your chin. “Oh shit you suck dick better then your mother” he moaned out to you as he pulled you off and smashed his lips on yours as he threw you onto your back now him on top of you ass he lifted up your legs as he spit onto your entrances as he began to eat you out like a wild animal.
“Your open enough” he said as he lined up his cock to your entrance as he slid in all at once “AH-FUC-K-AH” you yelled as he began to fuck you dumb on his cock not even giving you time to adjust to his size.
“Yeah you tight as bitch HA yeah take daddy’s cock” he yelled out as he continued to fuck you in to oblivion.
“Ah-um Oh Fuck I’m gonna cum-m-m” you moaned as you where stroking your cock as Michele continued his fast pace into your hole causing you to explode a lover your hand and torso up to your neck.
“Mm-ha yeah you like this huh you like that I tick you dumb on my cock my little boy slut what would you mother think huh” he heavily breathed out “Oh fuck yeah I’m gonna cum” “ Oh fuck yeah daddy breed me cum in my hole” you yelled as he erupted inside you coating your walls of his baby juice “oh fuck that was amazing” you sighed “oh where not done my boy” he said as he picked you up pulling out of your hole as he pushed you onto the bed ass up and face done to the pillows as he penetrated you once again with his cock.
“Ohhh-fuc-k yeah give it to be daddy~~ give me that big cock” you moaned out as he began to destroy your hole again as you felt yourself become hard again. As he noticed and reached down to your manhood and began to stroke it as he had now started a rhythm of pumping your cock and recking your hole.
“Yeah you hard again for daddy’s big dick in your ass boy” he said with one hand pushing your back down making it arch more.
“Oh Fuck Dad-dyyyy” you moaned as you cummed on his hand and on the bed sheets.”You just love making a mess don’t you my slutty boy” he said taking his hand away to lick the cum off as he began to fuck you faster. “Oh fuck yeah boy have take my cum” he said as he cummed in you again as he slipped out “Ha-Ha would you look at that” he said looking at your gapping hole leaking with his cum as he collapsed on to the bed and sighed.
“That was amazing daddy” you sighed still not moving from your spot on the bed “You where amazing for me my boy~~~ just so you know you will be my personal cum dump from now on out” he said to you “what about mom” you asked “please your mom stoped handing out after the wedding and I could go of more round plus we have till Friday to fuck in all the position under the sun” he said pulling you into a kiss.
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navybrat817 · 5 months
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I picture Bucky as a good dad. Like you're tired and he takes over without hesitation.
Oh, he's an amazing dad, nonnie. I agree he would take over immediately.
Sleepless Nights
Pairing: Woodworker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky offers to check on Jellybean so you can get some rest. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, insecurities, early parenthood, reflecting, nickname (daughter is called Jellybean, reader is called Jewel), feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes as a dad (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Sorry it isn't much, but here's a little something with our woodworker. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone​, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky was already awake when he heard fussing in the next room, every cell in his body on alert at the sound. He was a light sleeper to begin with and always had an ear open, but having a baby in the house gave him all the more reason to pay attention to every noise around him. You began to sit up with half open eyes and a groan when the fussing turned to cries, your instincts likely calling to you through your exhaustion to soothe your baby. You were a wonderful mother through and through.
But you had only fallen asleep a few minutes ago after feeding and changing her and you needed as much rest as possible.
“No, no, no,” he whispered as he brushed his lips against your temple and helped you lay back down. “It’s my turn.”
“You sure?” You asked, trying to stifle a yawn. “I don’t mind.”
“I’m sure,” he assured you, giving you another kiss. “I offered, remember?”
It wasn’t easy for you to relinquish control or ask for help out of fear that you weren’t a good enough mom, but he was quick to squash that insecurity. He didn’t want you to feel any sort of guilt or shame over needing rest. You also didn’t have to go it alone since you had him by your side.
You were equal partners and parents.
“Thanks, Hunk,” you smiled tiredly.
He smiled back and tucked the blanket around you. “You don’t need to thank me for being a dad,” he teased before you closed your eyes. “Just get some rest for the both of us, Jewel.”
Once he was sure you wouldn’t try to get up, he went to check on your daughter. His daughter. One of the two lights of his life.
Living proof that his heart had room for two.
Carefully opening the nursery door, his heart almost stopped as the cries increased. The sound evoked many things within him, like the need to protect her and the worry that he wouldn’t be able to comfort her the way you could. Pushing his anxiety aside, he approached the crib with a soft smile when she whimpered and immediately reached in to pick her up. The vibranium arm cradled her lower half as he rested her against his chest.
The previous metal forced upon was meant to inflict pain, but the vibranium provided hope.
“Hey, Jellybean,” he whispered, brushing his nose against the top of her head and taking care not to scratch her skin with his beard as her whimpers stopped almost immediately. The sweet scent was so distinctly her, a biological perfume that he could pick up even if she was surrounded by other babies. “Can’t sleep, huh?”
Bucky had heard from others that babies had distinct cries, but he didn’t realize how true that was until he began to decipher Jellybean’s sounds. Since she couldn’t tell either of you with words what or how she was feeling, she did so with sounds and visual cues. There was no yawning, so she wasn’t sleepy, and no lip smacking, so he ruled out hunger. She didn’t squirm in his hold, so discomfort or a dirty diaper were out. Coupled with the fact that she grew quiet the second he picked her up told him all he needed to know.
His baby just wanted some attention.
“I’m sorry if you wanted Mama, but she needs her rest,” he whispered, taking a seat in the rocking chair he built. He covered you with a soft blanket next, a gift from Steve and Tippy. Ironically enough, you got them a similar blanket for their little Peanut. “So do you.”
He began to hum a lullaby as he glanced around the room. Jellybean’s laughter would fill it one day and provide another memory he’d make sure not to forget. Even in the dark, he could feel the care crafted within every inch of the space. Beams and walls helped make the house, but it was a home because of the love you poured into it.
It didn’t always feel real though.
Some days, he feared he’d open his eyes only to find himself back in the chair, shaking from the pain and electroshock. Or that he’d be back on ice, reaching out a hand for the two of you before he froze. He had to remind himself that the worst part of his life was over, that the nightmare was finished and you were his dream come true.
The person who helped him pick up the pieces of himself, one at a time.
“You know, I spent a long time believing that I wasn’t a good man. That I’d never be worthy of you or your mom. That I didn’t deserve this,” he told her, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs as he exhaled. “But I am a good man and I do deserve my family.”
And all he wanted was to be a good husband and father.
His daughter’s tiny hand moved to his chest and he had to blink back tears at the small source of comfort. She was vulnerable, inspiring, a precious gift, and a token of the love you had for him. Looking at her for the first time and seeing purity and wonder in her gaze was like rekindling his best sense of self.
He may not always be able to catch her when she falls, but he would pick her up, dust her off, and let her try again.
“Maybe I needed to hold you tonight as much as you needed to be held,” he smiled softly. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she sensed it. “You’ll hear my story one day. No matter what you think of me after I tell you, I’ll always be your father and protector,” he promised as she started to doze off, completely at ease in his arms. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to relax, too. “And I’ll always love you and your mom, Jellybean.”
And in the room next door, you gazed at the baby monitor with watery eyes. “We’ll always love you, too, Bucky.”
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I'm so soft! Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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The Farmer's Daughter 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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"We can't thank you enough," your mother clasps her hands together, "are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?"
"I gotta get back," Walter huffs, hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets, "but I'll be back in the morning."
"You will?" You mom bats her lashes in surprise as you glance over from peeling potatoes.
"Yep," he nods as he looks around, meeting your gaze briefly before turning his attention back to your mother, "gonna help the kid with planting."
"What? You can't-- Walter, we... we could never pay you back," she fans herself.
"I'm not asking for anything," he shrugs, "I kinda owe Pat. He's always been good to me."
"Oh my gosh, and he will appreciate it so much," she touches her cheeks as her voice cracks, "we really can't afford to turn away help but you will be stayin' for dinner. It's the least we can do."
"Yes, ma'am," he answers, "but you don't work yourself too hard. You gotta make sure to get Pat back on his feet before you worry about me."
"Oh," she sniffles and dabs her nose with her knuckle, "I'm so sorry, it's been such a difficult week."
"Ma," you come around and offer her a paper towel from the role, your own eyes stinging.
"Anyways, I...I'll go now," Walter says stringently.
"Thank you," you eke out as you hug your mother and she buries her face in your shoulder.
He nods at you as he passes, continuing into the hallway. You rock your mother and crane to watch him go, his broad shoulders stretching the cotton henley. He peeks into the front room as he stops to get his boots on, staring in at your dad, still blank in his recliner.
You tear your eyes away as your mom pulls back and wipes her cheeks, "uh, I'm a mess."
"It's alright, ma," you assure.
"I hope so," she murmurs as her throat tightens, "I really do."
🌾
As promised, Walter returns early the next morning. You're in the kitchen putting on a pot of coffee as you hear his truck. You leave the percolator to boil as you sweep down the hall, yawning into the crook of your elbow as you near the front door.
You open in and stand inside the screen, watching his headlights fade as he shuts off the engine. He steps out, grabbing a beaten metal lunch pail out behind him. It hangs from a thick leather strap; you wonder if he takes it down to the mill for his shifts.
"Morning," he comes up the steps, "Timothy up?"
"He's getting there," you say evasively, "you want some coffee?"
"Brought my own," he shows the thermos strapped to the top of the lunch pail.
"Hm, well, why don't you come in while you wait? Tim will be up soon, I'm sure."
"I don't mind," he says.
"I hate to leave you out here," you insist, "ma's upstairs with dad," you explain, "pretty quiet in here. Not used to that."
"Mm," he grumbles and bows his head. He grabs the screen door as he steps forward, catching it as you retreat ahead of him.
He enters and you scurry back to the kitchen as you hear the percolator thrumming, the lid shaking noisily. You take out a cup for yourself and one for Timothy. Walter enters and you turn to him as he looks around placidly.
"You're right. It's quiet," he agrees.
You give a shaky smile and go to the fridge. You take out the packet of bacon wrapped in brown paper and put it on the counter.
"I'm making breakfast. Ma and dad will be hungry. You like bacon or sausage?" You ask.
He considers you. You face him, awaiting his answer. He watches you, his expression hard to read.
"You don't have to worry about me," he states.
"I'm not worried, I'm just... offering," you placate.
His blue eyes make you nervous as they bore into you. Like everything else he does, he watches you with intent. What it is, you don't know.
He hums and nods, as if agreeing with something you said. You arch a brow curiously as he tilts his head and drops his eyes to the counter. He steps up to the island and puts his pail down.
"I'll do the eggs," he says.
"Oh, please, sir--"
"Walt," he intones.
"Walt, sorry," you squirm. There's something different about him. He's just as steely as ever but much more... there. You always felt like he didn't see you before.
"No sorries," he waves you off and goes to the fridge, opening the door and searching until he sees the eggs. "You seem like the sunny side up type."
"I do?" You wonder as he plucks out eggs one at a time.
"I think so," he says softly, a grit in his throat.
"Hm," you scrunch your lips up, "I don't mind it. I usually have french toast. That's how I liked my eggs."
"Not really eggs..."
"There's eggs on the bread," you argue, "and cinnamon, and a little icing sugar."
He scoffs and his cheek dimples. It's as close to a smile as you've ever seen from him. He places the eggs on the counter before he goes back for more.
"What about you? How do you like your eggs?" You ask before the tension can grow stifling.
"I take two hard-boiled eggs to work. A slice of rye, carrots, cashews, and dried berries. For lunch, I have ham and cheese. Most days, I miss lunch. Too busy."
He speaks matter-of-factly. He does seem like a man of routine. You never thought very much about what he did beyond his visits, but it makes sense.
"I usually forget lunch too," you grin, "but I make up for it at dinner."
He snorts again, setting down another handful of eggs. "I'll do some scrambled," he rolls one aside on its own, "and some french toast for you."
"Oh, M-Walt," you stammer, "that's--"
"I like to keep busy. Keeps me focused," he says sternly.
"Oh, uh, okay," you relent, "I'll... go get Timothy," you look at the clock, "he said he'd be up ten minutes ago."
"His own fault if he doesn't have time to eat," Walter tuts. "Grown man."
"Sure is," you agree as you breeze around the counter, "be right back."
You get to the door before he responds, "I'll be here, sweetheart."
You're in the hall before you register what he said. You falter and stop at the bottom step before you can ascend the stairs. You look back to the kitchen, staring at Walter's shoulders as he cracks eggs into a bowl.
Sweetheart... you don't think you've ever heard a morsel of affection from the man. He didn't even laugh at your father's jokes. Well, there is a lot going on. He's just being nice because your dad's sick.
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