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#it was sweet though. my father was well loved.
lovelybrooke · 2 days
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Hiii could I please request a Jace x reader x aemond yandere love triangle with a platonic yandere alicent and rhaenyra plz???
Dragon Fire (Yandere HOTD)
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So this is loosely based on my maid reader concept, except the reader is closer to Jace and Aemond's age instead of Rhaenyra and Alicent, if that makes sense. Some stuff might be scuffed since I have't watched the show in a second, but It should be fine.
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Dragon fire, it always had such a distinct smell. It wasn't like a campfire, or the fire lit under a stove. It was intimating, threatening to melt your skin if you stood too close, devoid of all sense of comfort. But despite all that, it was alluring, warm but dangerous. You couldn't help but be drawn to it, smelling it as it wafted through the keep. It invaded your senses, overwhelming you, until your mind was hazy and you felt as though you were melting. 
That is how you felt in this moment, overwhelmed as you watched from a high window, Lady Rhaenyra and her family exit their carriage. You struggled to tear your eyes away from them, enraptured by their alluring presence. You knew it was wrong, the Queen wouldn't approve of you avoiding your work like this, but as you moved your eyes back towards the window, you locked eyes with the eldest prince, causing you to back away in a mixture of surprise and fear. You shouldn't be here, you knew that, but a part of you wanted to be, and it made your gut stir. 
The prince was a kind man, slightly peculiar in his own way. Before you were appointed maid of the Queen, you and your family worked for the Princess. You remembered the days before they left the keep, when you'd catch the eldest Velaryon watching you from behind walls of hallways, or when he'd sneak you out to the gardens to play, tempting you with food and toys. It was fun, nice to be treated so kindly by the prince, and you never really processed that the boy you were friends with would once be the King of the Realm. The Princess never seemed to mind as well, in fact the few times she caught you with her son she seemed pleased, amused by the playful nature of her son and the way you seemed swept up by him. She treated you nicely, giving you toys and accessories you would hide from your mother in fear of her reaction. 
Things were great for a while. Until your mother caught you with the Prince. It was a sight to behold, you were sitting in the grass, the young Prince as she showed you the first real sword he got to use, gifted to him by the Captain of the City Watch. You didn't see her come up, but you felt her grab you by the forearm, pulling you towards you as her face swelled with rage. You didn't hear what she said, the only thing you could focus on being the hand that struck you across the face. She paid no mind to Jacaerys as she dragged you back towards the maids quarters, lecturing you in hushed whispers the entire way there. 
You laid in your bed for hours as you felt the bruise swell up, your mother being called away for other duties hours ago. Your eyes were red and puffy as you drifted off to sleep, exhaustion overwhelming you. 
The news of your mother's death came quickly, you never knew for what, but you avoided her hanging body as best as you could as you moved throughout the Keep. Time passed quickly, things changed, but you kept your head down the best you could, and you avoided Jacaerys at every turn. After the death of their father, Rhaenyra and her family left for Dragonstone, and you were appointed to work for Queen Alicent. You hadn't seen the Prince since, until now. You knew this was a possibility as news of their arrival spread throughout the Keep, but you still felt sick as you thought of having to face him once again. 
"Are you lost, sweet maid?" The voice of Prince Aemond broke you out of your worries, your eyes moving away from the window finally. 
"No, my Prince." You say, voice wavering slightly. 
He doesn't look convinced "Then come." He says, and you follow him down the hall, leaving the sight of the prince behind. 
You and Aemond's relationship was one built on confusion, but neither of you seemed to mind. You met him a few hours after he lost his eye. He was a mess, his eye freshly sowed up, blood still stuck to his pale cheeks. But strangely enough, he was calm, when you locked eyes with him while leaving his room, you were frozen. You were told to tidy things up before returning, you didn't expect to see him. In your shock, the only thing you could say, 
"I apologize, my Prince." You attempted to bow and leave, but Aemond caught you before you could. His grip on your arm mimicked that of your late mother's, but instead of filling you with dread, his hold felt almost desperate, searching for any sense of comfort in you, a stranger. 
A quiet "stay" left his mouth, and so of course, you did. You sat with him throughout the night, helping him clean the blood from his face as he remained silent. Every few moments, he'd let out whispers about his newly claimed dragon, his words and actions delirious as he stayed close to you until falling asleep. You slipped out of his hold and left the room as quickly as possible, but since then, your involvement with the Prince hasn't ended. 
As his eye healed, the Prince changed and grew. The once quiet boy was now a confident man, gossiping with you about his family and the happenings in court. He'd seek you out, removing you from your duties, and take you wherever he pleased. A part of you wondered what his mother's reaction was to his behavior, but when she did talk to you, she never seemed to mind. 
"My son likes you, are you aware?" She asked as you folded the blankets in her room. You didn't dare look at her as she spoke to you, her presence an unwavering force. 
"Not particularly, My Queen." You respond, trying to focus on work. 
You hear her sigh. "Aemond he's--he's a sweet boy." There was a small sense of care in her voice, something she was trying to mask. "He doesn't mean anything by his behavior, you must know that..." She moved toward you, cupping your cheek and moving your face to look at her. "You are kind, genuine." She says, looking you in the eyes. "He is drawn to that." You didn't know how to respond, your mind racing. "You are sweet, my child." She said, and eventually he hand moved away from you, and all you could do was bow and leave. 
"You are distracted today, aren't you?" You hear Aemond speak and a part of you wants to rebuke the statement, but you knew there was no point. 
"I am just thinking about all the work that must be done for tomorrow." You say, a partial truth. Aemond hums in acknowledgement, taking your arm as you drift too far from him. 
"The legitimacy of the Velaryon child is none of your concern." It's like even the utterance of his name filled him with disgust, the words coming out through gritted teeth. "It need not concern you." 
"I know, my Prince, but there is still work to be done." You say, finally reaching the training grounds. You unlink your arm from his, facing him as the sounds of swords enter your ears. You feel eyes on you, but you assume it's due to the strange sight of a servant out near the training grounds. "I will be preoccupied until afterwards, My Grace." You bow and Aemond smiles. 
"We'll see." He speaks, backing away until he is out of sight. It felt like you could take a breath, leaving the grounds quickly and rushing toward the kitchens. The chatter amongst the halls was filling you with dread. What would happen if the Prince was found illegitimate, how would the Princess react? It felt strange to be worried for them, knowing your thoughts on the matter meant nothing. 
You turned a corner, entering an empty hallway, the whispers coming to a halt. It was strangely comforting in a way, the harsh silence. It was a rare thing. "(Y/n)." You hear a voice come from behind you, the voice of Jacaerys Velaryon. It was unfamiliar but familiar all at once, something you were terrified of but craving at the same time. "May I have a word with you?" His voice didn't waver, there was a familiar confidence in it that nearly made you smile. 
"My Prince-" You say, looking back at him. "I apologize I am--" You stuttered as he moved closer to you. "My presence is needed in the kitchens." You say as he stands in front of you. He was taller, more mature, and intimidating. 
He ignores your previous statement. "I do not wish to scare you." He chuckles slightly. "I simply wish to talk to you, that is all I ask." 
You go over the options in your head, and you deduce that you would get in more trouble disobeying the Prince than if you were late to your duties. "Please make it quick, My Grace." 
Jacaerys takes your hands, they were soft and warm "We have missed you, me and my mother." He whispers. "We would like you back, with us on Dragonstone." 
Suddenly, his hands feel cold, so cold you pull away. You felt him reach out for you, but you backed away. "Jace...we aren't children anymore, I have duties." Where was this coming from, you thought. You were but a maid, why did you feel the need to defend your position here? It must be paranoia, feeling eyes on you, causing you to lose all sense of titles with him. Your voice was strained, distant, and you could see the discomfort of Jace's face as you moved further away from him. 
"So do I--" his voice raises slightly, but he calms before anyone could hear him "--my mother is with child, once this is all over she would like you to come with us." You don't respond, but you also don't move as he moves closer. "Please just, come discuss this with her, she would love to see you." Jace takes your hands once again, and for a second, you look down the hallway towards the kitchen and wonder if you should go, but the feeling of warmth radiating off Jace is too overwhelming. You find yourself looking back towards him, and you sigh. 
"Of course, my Prince." Jace smiles, linking your arm with his and pulling you in the opposite direction. For a moment, you hear the clanging of swords back towards the training grounds and you imagine Aemond's reactions to the sight of you linked arms with his nephew. The feeling of anxiety sinks into you as you the sounds eventually quiet and you're led towards a room designated to quests, guards were posted outside, not sparing you or the Prince a single glance. Jace knocked on the door, entering with you a few moments later. 
The room was open and spacious, the wind blowing in making the room cool and comfortable. But the only thing you could focus on was the Princess. She didn't notice you until Jace addressed her, her gaze softening when you looked at you. 
"(Y/n)..." She hummed and you shifted your gaze towards the ground. 
"Princess." You whisper, hearing her move towards you. She takes your hand and holds it, causing your eyes to move towards her. She smiled, and you felt your heart warm at the sight. It was nice, even though you knew it was disrespectful. 
"I have missed you so, I trust the Queen has been treating you well?" You nod, stuck silent. You were treated well by her Majesty, but deep down you missed the Princess and her care. Maybe it is because of her connections to your mother, a part of you wanted her back. She smiles, moving a hand to place it on her stomach. "Jace has spoken to you, I assume." You nod again, and you realize that Jace hasn't let go of your arm this entire time, almost like he was stuck right next to you. 
"--He explained to me your situation, Princess." You didn't know if those were the right words. "--But I do not think Her Majesty will permit my leaving to Dragonstone." You say, hoping she understood. Her face shifts at your words, becoming cold at the mention of the Queen. You wonder if you had done something wrong, feeling fear wash over you as the Princess backed away. You remained frozen, stuck to the side of the Prince. 
"I will have a word with my father, he--" The Princess speaks, but is interrupted by the door opening. You, along with Jace, turn towards the sound, eyeing the Queen in all her glory. You quickly address her, moving away from Jace, trying not to look at him as he reaches out for you. 
"My Queen." You say, embarrassment washing over you. "--My presence was requested by the Princess."
She doesn't respond, but you don't dare expect anything from her. "You are needed in the Kitchens, my dear, go." She says, her voice unwavering. You bow, towards her, Rhaenyra, and the Prince, not wasting a second before leaving. 
You don't wish to hear what they speak about, you don't want to imagine it. All you really know is that you feel tired, exhausted even, and cold. 
You were ordered to stay late and clean the kitchen as punishment for avoiding your duties. The kitchen was cold at night, a stark contrast to the warmth in the morning. The smell of wine and bread was a nice comfort as you scrubbed the floors, a part of you wondering if you should sneak something for all of your work. 
"Sweet maid, what are you doing up?" You look up to see the face of Aemond staring down on you. You place the sponge in the bucket near you, standing up to meet him. 
"I could ask you the same thing, My Prince." You say, watching him smile. 
"Is this your punishment for mingling with my nephew?" You nearly choked, surprised that he knew. Truthfully, it wasn't that shocking, him and his mother were close, she would've told him. That didn't make it any less embarrassing. 
"I apologize, My Prince--"
"It's always "My Prince" with me." He moved closer, to close, causing you to back away. He follows. "You call him by his name, not me." You hit a counter, hearing Aemond hit the bucket, the water splashing on the floor, his eyes still locked on you. "Why is that?" He asks as he stops in front of you. 
"I-I've known him as a child." 
"You knew me, longer than you knew him." You feel his breath on your face. "But you treat me like a stranger, sweet maid." 
You look away from him, "the Queen would not permit that behavior, My Prince." 
"The Queen is not here." He speaks, cupping your chin to look at him. "Try it." 
You remain silent, his hold becomes tighter. "Say my name." 
You wait, his hold moves towards your neck, and he squeezes. "Go on." 
You can't breathe, you doubt you could speak, but you squeak out his name. He looks satisfied, finally releasing you as you gasp for air. You fall to the floor, clothes becoming soaked in water from the cleaning bucket. You wondered if he'd comfort you, if he wanted to comfort you, but as he leaves, the thought leaves your mind. You don't cry, you don't call out for him, you just feel empty. 
Aemond was a man who wanted intimacy, that you knew. He wanted you to watch him train, watch him fly that mighty dragon of his. But he did not know how to reciprocate. He was never shown love, real love, but he craved it desperately, that you knew. He wants to be acknowledged by you, he wanted to be the only man in your life, but he wasn't able to provide you with that same intimacy. He wasn't soft, he wasn't thoughtful, he wasn't warm, but you knew a part of him wanted to be, that you knew. It almost made you feel bad for him, if it wasn't for his behavior.
You finish cleaning and make your way back towards the sleeping quarters, your eyes locked to the ground. You felt the bruise on your neck swell, causing you to hug yourself, hand gripping your forearm tight. 
You find yourself stopped in front of the same window, looking out onto the night. It was dark, quiet, but peaceful, comforting was the word. Your hand gravitates towards your neck, hissing at the slightest touch. "(Y/n)" someone calls your name, you cover the bruise the best you could. 
It was Jace, his brows furrowed as he looked at you. "Are you well?" You nod, looking back toward the window. 
"Yes--I'm just distracted." You respond as he moves towards you. 
He stands close to you, moving your hand away from your neck. His jaw tightens as he looks at you. "What happened?" He asks, touching your neck carefully. 
"It's nothing, don't worry yourself, My Prince." He moves his hand away from your neck. 
"I always worry about you, ever since we left here." He whispers. 
You smile slightly, "that is a long time to worry about me." He smiles as well. The air was playful, nice, it made you forget about the pain of the bruise for a while. 
The atmosphere changes when you move away from him, the playfulness is gone. He's stern, intimidating, cold. "My mother has spoken with Her Majesty, you will come with us after all this is over." He spoke, there was no room for argument. 
You mind flashes with memories Aemond, his hand around your neck, "Jace--My Prince I can't--" 
"You can, and you will." He says. "My mother, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms demands it of you." Your heart sinks, you feel like you're trapped, so you look back toward the window. The sky is beautiful, the stars so far away but so alluring. 
You're ripped away from the window once more, Jace forcing you to look at him, his hands were warm, like dragon fire, but you felt like you were melting. "Things can be good again, I promise." He whispers to you, the light of the moon reflecting off his face. "I will treat you well, like back when we were children." He smiles, but you don't recognize it. 
You fear for tomorrow, when Rhaenyra is put on trial. You fear for Lucerys, and what might happen to him. But most of all, you fear for yourself, completely consumed by Dragon fire, trapped in a cage and melting. How long will it be before there is nothing left of you, you wonder. 
You breathe, looking out the window once more, this time towards the city, far away but so alluring. You look back at Jace and for a second, your mind flashes with memories of your mother, her red hot face as she pulls you away from your friend. Her disappointment as she watches you cry yourself asleep was the last thing you saw of her, you wonder what she thought of you now, you wonder if she was still disappointed in you.
"Yes, My Prince."
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A/n: Wow, something that isn't a Drabble, who would've thought. Hope you enjoyed it. I feel like I didn't get enough Alicent and Rhaenyra stuff so sorry about that.
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crazyunsexycool · 2 days
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A love as sweet as honey
Chapter 1
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Words: 4.1K
Warnings: Some fluff I guess, angst, Steve being 🙁, reader's family.
A/N: So here we go with chapter 1 for this series. So this is set three months after the semi ending of My little love so I'm keeping some aspects of that series that are mentioned in this chapter vague. We are going straight into Honey's family and they are the worst. I kind of wanted to show the difference in Steve and Honey's worlds. I really hope you like it. Also kind of nervous for this chapter...
If you're reading this or come across my series for the first time, I do recommend reading My Little Love first because characters from that series will play a big roll in this one.
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You glared at the messages popping up on your phone. It was bad enough that both Bruce and Tony forced you out of your lab in order for you to get some rest, now you had to evade your family. They had persistently called and messaged you about the weekly family dinners. The thing was you hated those gatherings. It was just your father, your two older brothers and their wives. Even though you were family you had nothing in common with them, so having to endure their company for an evening was dreadful. It wasn’t like they liked you anyway so you didn’t understand why your presence was required. You much preferred to be in your lab working on one project or another. Watching paint dry was preferable to Sunday night dinner with those snakes. 
“I hope you don’t glare at my messages like that.” Steve’s voice broke you out of your thoughts but you still scowled in his direction. He just chuckled in response.
Steve looked so handsome as he made his way towards you. His golden blond hair was slightly disheveled and his workout clothes fit him perfectly. You’d never let on that you were attracted to him. It still baffles you that he willingly hangs out with you even when you don’t make it easy to be your friend. Although it’s mostly during work hours, which is almost always, or the few parties you’d been dragged to. His presence is soothing and it bothers you that he can ease you out of your bad moods without much resistance.
“Depends on what you messaged me about.” You watched as he took a seat on the bench next to you. “Did the science bros send you?” 
“Science bros?”
“Yeah, Stark and Banner. They kicked me out of my lab. Said I needed to rest.” 
“Can you blame them? Especially after that whole issue with Lottie forcing half the medbay staff to come to your aid because she saw you unconscious in a vision?”
“I just fell asleep.” You grumbled as you turned to watch other employees go about their day. Thinking back on it, the situation was now slightly funny. Although poor Charlotte was incredibly worried about you. 
“Yeah well, everyone needs to rest.” 
You give Steve a sideways glance and frown. “Remember this conversation when you go on back to back missions.” 
Steve gives you a lopsided grin. It made you swoon which forced you to be very self conscious of your staring.
“What are you still doing here anyway?” 
“I’m resting.” 
Steve bent forward and turned his head to get a better look at you when you turned away from him. His eyes squinted in suspicion but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. It was overwhelming to have all of his attention sometimes. To have anyone’s attention on you at all made you uncomfortable but to have Steve was something else. He always managed to make you feel something other than annoyed. You were baffled by how easily he did that. 
“Stop staring you weirdo.” You mumbled. Steve chuckles but doesn’t take his eyes off you. 
“You don’t really believe you’ll get away with trying to go back up to your lab when you didn’t go home to rest, do you?” 
You sigh and your shoulders slump. Steve’s eyes drift down to your pouting lips and for a second he thinks he could kiss that pout away. That’s how it had been since he met you. The attraction was almost immediate and you seemed to always have a pout on those pretty lips of yours.
“I’m just so tired. I don’t want to drive.” 
“I could take you if you’d like.” 
“No,” you shake your head. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.” 
“I’m offering. But if you don’t like that then you should really reconsider taking one of the empty apartments.” 
He’s right. Some of the apartments have been empty for a while and one had even been offered to you. You just weren’t sure how you felt about living in the compound. 
“Just imagine, you maybe can’t sleep and you get an idea. You don't have to wait until the next day to come in. All you have to do is walk across the building and you’re at work.” Steve offers. 
“Enticing but also I like to separate my personal life from my work life.” 
Steve shrugs and gets up. “Still, think about it. I have to go but text me when you get home so that I know you’re safe.” 
“You care too much.” 
“Can’t blame a guy for caring for his friends.” He says before starting to walk away.
“Wait, we’re friends? I didn’t agree to that.” You joke. 
Steve turns around and walks backwards and raises an eyebrow in your direction. You give a small smile in return. 
“Go home.” 
You roll your eyes in response before he waves and walks away to do whatever it is he did. With a sigh you get up and head to your car. There was no way you’d even be able to get into your office so you actually went home. 
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Steve had an open invitation into the Barnes home. He was there all the time. His best friends’ home had warmth and laughter and love. It was all of the things he craved. 
When he was first woken up from the ice and realized that he was no longer in the 1940s, Steve decided that the man that wanted a family and love died the day the plane went down. Instead he found solace in fighting alongside the Avengers and his friendships. He was closest to Mrs. Barnes or how he affectionately called her, Magnet. They’d been working side by side since he’d moved to D.C. their friendship bloomed and now they were more like siblings.
 The only thing Steve envied was his best friends’ relationship. From his point of view they had everything, all more than well deserved of course. He was more than happy that after being tortured and used by Hydra, Bucky was able to find happiness even when he found out he had children. Steve wanted that. He wanted his kids to grow up with the Barnes kids and that they be best friends the way he and Bucky were growing up. He never voiced it of course but Mrs. B could read him like a book. So when he walked into the always busy house he knew he’d be asked something.
“What’s wrong?” Mrs. B asked the minute she looked up at him. She was rocking the youngest Barnes in her arms. The newest addition to the family and only three months old.
“Nothings wrong.” 
“Steve-“ 
“Steebie.” Charlotte ran out from the playroom down the hall and straight into Steve’s arms. 
“Here’s my best girl.” Steve soaked up all of the love Bucky’s daughter gave him. “How are you sweetheart?” 
“I’m good. Do you wanna play tea pawty?” 
“I would love to. I’ll be there in a minute, ok?” Steve sets Charlotte on the floor and she runs back as she yells that she’ll get the party ready. 
“Steve? Are you sure you’re ok?” 
“I’m fine Magnet.” 
She gives him a sympathetic look. Steve knew that she knew what he was feeling. They’d have long conversations about the thoughts of having families and falling in love. Those conversations seemed so long ago. They were both different people now. Still at its core their friendship remains the same, just like with Bucky. 
“Saw you talking to Y/N earlier.” Bucky says as he walks in from the door that leads to the garage. “You have to ask her out.” 
“Why would I ask her out?”
Steve’s best friends look at each other as if they knew some big secret. Well they did although it wasn’t a secret but something Steve was refusing to acknowledge. 
“Because you like her.” Mrs. B says.
“It’s so obvious that you do.” 
“She’s a friend.” Steve defends himself. 
“I used to look at Sugar that way. Still do.” 
“Aaww baby. That’s so cute.” 
Bucky sends a wink in his wife’s direction. It was so cute it made Steve sick sometimes. Again he was happy for them but he wanted that too. Steve was ashamed of the envy he felt sometimes.
“That would be like me asking you out, Magnet.” 
“Eeww.” She scrunched her face and Steve was taken aback by the instant reaction. Then she laughed. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just I see you as family so the thought of dating you is weird.” 
“Exactly my point. Asking her out would be like that for me.” 
Bucky looked at Steve with disbelief. “I know you’re stubborn but this is a whole different level.” 
“Give him a break baby. It’s not like you asked me out when you realized you liked me.” 
Bucky had sat down by his wife and took their youngest child in his arms. He smiled and cooed at his baby before looking up at Steve. 
“Just think about it and once you admit that you like her, ask her out.” Bucky said and Mrs. B nodded in agreement. 
“Steebie, tea pawty is weady.” 
“If you’ll excuse me, I have a very important tea party to attend.” 
“Are you staying for dinner?” His best friend asked over her shoulder. 
“If it’s not too much trouble.” 
“Never.” 
**** 
Lottie poured nonexistent tea into Steve’s plastic teacup. She had immediately draped him with fake jewelry, clip on earrings and placed a plastic crown on his head. Steve then sat on the floor at the table the kids had in their playroom. Henry had been playing with legos in the corner and started giggling at the sight before him. He stopped laughing when a plastic tiara was placed on his head and he had to sit at the table too. Across from Henry sat a Lottie’s beloved pink teddy bear.
“So then the ogre tries to stomp on all of the King’s knights.” Steve was telling the kids about the last mission he’d been on. He made it seem like a fairytale though and the kids were hooked. 
“Oh no.” Lottie whispered. 
“Don’t worry sweetheart. The king’s knights were ready and they had a dragon.”
“What? No way.” Henry exclaimed, hanging on every word. 
“Yes way. The dragon came down from the sky and with his magic powers and BOOM! The ogre didn’t stand a chance.” 
Lottie has a hand on her chest while pretending to sip tea. Henry resting his head on his hand while waiting for Steve to continue. 
“All of the other knights joined the dragon in fighting the ogre’s henchmen. When they finally finished they got the treasure and that treasure helped a lot of village people.” Steve finishes. 
“I wanna be a dragon when I grow up so that I can help people.” 
“Yeah me too.” Lottie agrees with her brother. 
“Dinner’s ready.” 
“Alright, you heard your mom let’s go wash up.” Steve says as he gets up and starts taking all of the accessories off.
“Steebie will you sit with me?” 
“Of course I will, sweetheart.” Steve grabs Lottie and throws her over his shoulder before he reaches for Henry and does the same. They’re both laughing and kicking. “But first we wash our hands.” 
Steve can’t help but smile. The ache that sits heavy in his chest from wanting this life dulls while he sits amongst his friends. Their conversation distracts him from the loneliness he’ll find once he goes back to his apartment.
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You’d gone straight to bed once you’d made it home. There was nothing else for you to really do so taking a nap seemed the best option. You’d taken off everything but your panties and plopped down right in the middle of the bed. Tony and Bruce had been right. You did need to sleep, you’d never admit it to them though. Just as you were drifting off to dreamland, obnoxious knocking pulled you away. You grabbed the robe that had been hanging over unpacked boxes and put it on, tying it while walking to your door. 
You’d never bothered unpacking because you move so much. So you zigzagged through all of the boxes holding your personal things in order to get to the front door. Before opening the door you looked through the peephole and froze at the sight of who was at the other side. But that feeling of dread turned into anger as you yanked the door open, startling the three women on the other side. 
“What?” You snapped, your tone harsh and unwelcoming. 
The last thing you were expecting was to see your stepmother and sisters-in-law at your apartment. Especially since you never gave them your address. Your stepmother being front and center schooled her expression first. 
“Now is that anyway to answer the door? I’ve taught you better than that.” She admonishes. 
Rose came into your life when you were a baby. She’s the only maternal figure you’d ever known. You hated her. She was your father’s lapdog and a snitch. The moment you were able to leave his house you did. You tried to be around them as little as possible. Somehow they always managed to drag you back in.
You sisters-in-law were no better. Elizabeth was married to your older brother Richard. Alice was married to your younger brother Charles. They were the picture perfect family. The men ran the family and the women well, they did as they were told. They were the perfect stepford wives and then there was you. 
In their eyes you were the rebellious middle child. The one who they said couldn’t just sit down and do as you were told. You just had to question everything and fight back. It didn’t matter that at 18 you left your father’s home and never lived there again. He wanted to control you because he had an image to maintain. And if he had someone track you down that meant he needed something.
“Well aren’t you going to invite us in?” Rose asked as she tried to look over your shoulder. The only thing she could see was the hallway.
“No. Because I didn’t invite you. As a matter of fact I never even gave any of you my address so I don’t know why you’re here.” 
“We’ve called and texted you multiple times and you haven’t answered..” Alice said. “We were worried.”
“No you weren’t. Besides I have nothing to say to any of you. If I wanted to have any sort of relationship with you I’d answer. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” 
“Y/N please, we are only doing what’s best for our family and that’s keeping everyone together.” Elizabeth adds. 
You roll your eyes. 
“So what does Conrad want now?” 
“Your father,” Rose says. “Would very much love it if you joined us for dinner tonight.” 
“I don’t give two shits about what he would love. Who is he trying to impress?” 
Rose huffs, annoyance creeping into her normally well composed face. You loved riling her up. 
“It’s not about who he’s trying to impress, we haven’t seen you in a while. We’d like to catch up.” 
“And we would be catching up in whose presence?” You push for information. 
“A possible investor in his business.” 
“Mmm.” You nod slowly. 
“So you’ll come?” 
“Nope.” 
“I wasn’t giving you a choice. We’ll stand out here until you’re ready.” 
“I’ll call the cops on you if you don’t leave.” 
You saw the flash of red hot anger flash in Rose’s dark brown eyes. She placed her hand on the door and leaned in to be as close to your face as possible. 
“Remember what happened the last time you tried that.” The threat was there and it all but crumbled the bit of resistance you had against them. 
You blinked back tears as memories rushed to the forefront of your mind. Suddenly you weren’t the person you’d worked so hard to become, you were the little girl that had been neglected her whole life. And that little girl did as she was told if she knew what was good for her. 
“I’ll give you thirty minutes. We’ll wait out here.” Rose had straightened her posture and fell back into the loving wife and mother character she’d perfectly crafted.
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You sat quietly in the dining room of the family home. Conrad Bramford, your father, sat at the head of the table. Rose was to his right, your older brother and his wife to his left. That left Charles your younger brother sitting next to his mother and his wife next to you. At the other end of the table, and closest to you, was the investor your father was trying to impress Ezekiel Stane.
“I’m so glad you decided to come.” Alice leaned in and whispered. 
“I didn’t decide, I was forced too. Why do you even give a shit?” 
Alice patted your forearm and smiled as if you were the best of friends and were up to no good. 
“You’re so bad.” She giggled. 
It dawned on you that she really thought you were friends or worse that you were like those families where the in-laws saw each other as actual siblings. 
“Oh you sweet summer’s child.” You murmured. 
“Come on, these dinners aren’t so bad. I mean we’re your family. It’s nice that we get to spend time together.”
“Alice, I’m going to be very clear because you seem like a nice person. I hate every single person sitting at this table.” 
Her smile drops just a little. “But you don’t know me or Elizabeth.” She mumbles. “You should give us a chance.” 
“You’re married to my brother, that’s all I need to know. Besides you've only been married what, a few months?” 
She nods.
“Maybe we can get together on your wedding anniversary and you can tell me how much you still love this family.” You give her a tight lipped smile. 
“Well on our anniversary we’ll be celebrating but I’ll still accept that invitation to talk.” Alice smiles again. 
“So Ms. Bramford. I heard that you work in the science field. How is that working out for you?” Ezekiel asked, pulling your attention away from Alice.
He was handsome with blue eyes and chestnut colored hair. He was tall, fit but not too muscular. 
“It’s great. I really love what I do.” 
“Which is?” 
“Research.” 
Ezekiel put on his most charming smile but it felt off putting. Although him willingly spending time with your father should have been the first sign that he wasn’t a great person. 
“What kind of research?” He asks.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss.” 
“Because she isn’t important enough to know.” Charles said, getting a laugh out of everyone at the table, except for you, Mr. Stane and surprisingly, Alice. She just gave you an apologetic look.
“Forgive us Mr. Stane, it’s just an inside joke.” Richard, your older brother, says with a chuckle. 
“Last time I checked a joke is supposed to be funny. Also might I remind you that I work outside of our father’s company so that I can have my independence. Tell me Dick, what is it that you do?” You stare at him expectantly. “Oh that’s right, you’re too busy kissing his ass to actually have a job.” 
There were gasps all around the table as you stood suddenly. The chair you had been sitting in, scraping along the floor before falling over. 
“Sit back down and apologize, you ungrateful brat.” Your father slammed a fist down on the table causing the plates, glasses and cutlery to clatter together.
“I won’t apologize, I don't want to be here in the first place. I‘ll be leaving now. Let’s do this again, never.” You say and start heading toward the living room where your purse was.
You fiddled with your pearl necklace as you raced through the hallway. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. 
“Well I don’t remember seeing anyone as pretty as you in a long time.” The deep voice froze you in place just as you reached the living room. 
You turn around to find Rose’s brother at the drink cart. His eyes rake your body and you shudder. You turn and grab your belongings and quickly turn towards the door.
“Don’t tell me you’re leaving so soon? I was hoping we could catch up. You can tell me where you’ve been hiding.”
“Eat dirt and die, asshole.” You say before exiting into the hallway. 
You’d made it to the door just as your father stepped into the hallway. He called your name and a few other choice words but you were already running down the steps towards your car. You managed to lock yourself in and speed away to be as far from this place as possible before he could get to you.
Your phone had been buzzing nonstop from everyone in your family trying to call or text you. It got to the point that you had to shut it off because it was too much. When you finally make it home you take a shower to hopefully rid yourself of the crawling sensation you get from being back at the family home. 
After a lot of pacing and debating you send an email to Tony and wait. It takes about a minute but you get an answer. Even though it was around three in the morning. Now you can breathe slightly easier but your whole body is thrumming with adrenaline and now it is slowly starting to calm down but your hands are shaking. You would spend the rest of the night going over everything that happened that day until you finally passed out.
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Steve had checked his phone a ridiculous amount of times. He even got teased for it by his best friends. But he was genuinely worried because he never received a text from you. He was restless wondering if he should reach out to you or not. Reluctantly he opted for the latter as he opened the door to his apartment where he was met with movers. They were taking things into the apartment across from his which belonged to Bucky when he first moved into the compound. He’d forgotten that someone was moving in and that he’d finally have a neighbor again. 
“Hey Rogers.” You said quietly as you made your way from down the hallway where the elevators were. 
“Hey Y/L/N. What are you doing here so early? And in the residential area. I thought you hated this part of the compound.” 
Steve was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his broad chest. 
“I used to but considering this is my new place, I thought I’d have to get used to it.” 
Steve’s face lit up at the new piece of information. He even stands up straight and watches as the movers take in a few more mixes in. 
“So you’re the one Tony told me was moving in a few weeks ago.” 
You shake your head. “No, I asked him last night if the offer was still good and he said yes. Although I feel bad that the person taking this spot is being moved. I think he said it was Sharon? She was supposed to move here but she’s still out of the country for a few weeks and this apartment is ready so he let me have it.” You look up at him and then at the apartment you’d be living in. 
“Wait so this was a last minute decision but you had your things packed already?” 
“Well I was going to be moving closer to the compound anyway. I just decided that I would prefer my apartment to have security guards at the entrance.” 
Steve’s eyes narrowed at that. “Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?” 
You saw the muscle in his jaw tick. 
“It’s a long story and I’d rather not talk about it.” You moved toward the door of your new apartment.
“Wait, if someone did something to you I’ll help you. They shouldn’t get away with whatever they did.” 
You look at him thoughtfully for a moment. “I wish I would have met you a long time ago, Rogers. Maybe you could have saved me then.” You gave him a sad smile. “I’m gonna get settled but maybe we should have a movie night or something soon. We can even do it at my place since you know where I live now.” 
Steve smiles but you could still see the worry in his eyes. 
“I’ll let you go, Steve.” 
“I’m here for whatever you need, ok?” 
“Thanks, I’ll see you later?” 
“Absolutely, neighbor.” Steve grins. 
“Ugh, don’t make me regret it.” 
“It’ll be the best choice you ever made.” He says confidently. 
Truer words have never been spoken. You just didn’t know it yet.
Ch. 2
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Permanent taglist:
@rebekahdawkins
@cjand10 
@nalny5 
@Sturchling 
@angywritesstuff 
@seitmai
@writing-for-marvel
@goldylions 
@almosttoopizza 
@littleseasiren 
@pono-pura-vida
@talesofadragon
@midnightramyeoncravings
@bunnygirlwriter876
@pandaxnieenke
@kandis-mom
@hisredheadedgoddess28
@braveclementine
Series taglist:
@ozwriterchick
@nekoannie-chan
@5upersoldiers1xt
@buckystevelove
@pumpkin-babydoll
@haruvalentine4321
@rebeccapineapple
@ilovetaquitosmmmm
@capswife
@vicmc624
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lisbeth-kk · 2 days
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May Prompts
Today's prompt is: cold. (Apologies in advance for waving a cheery goodbye to the cold for a while, before it was brought back)
The Luckies Girl in the World (chapter six)
Summary: A visit to Sherlock's parents bestows Rosie with a pet name.
Six Years Old
I never found it weird that Papa called me Watson. It was his name for me, but some of my friends, teachers and apparently Sally Donovan, found it to be heartless and cold. 
They all failed to discern the amount of affection and warmth in his voice when he addressed me as such. There was nothing cold about it.
Papa also used endearments like my heart and my precious girl, but only in private, which made them feel even more special. I never heard him call Dad anything but John, though he had a dozen different ways of saying Dad’s name.
***
Papa gave me a new name a warm summer day when I was six. We were visiting his parents, which I adored, he not so much. That’s what he claimed, anyway, but I saw how fond he was of them. They didn’t have that strong bond I had with my parents, but it more than sufficed, and Dad made up for it by being his wonderful self. Natural, friendly, helping in the kitchen and doing some of the heavier gardening for my grandmother.
Papa and his father had one particular interest in common. Bees. My grandfather had several beehives, and the first thing Papa did when we arrived, was to pester his father about the creatures he found so endlessly fascinating. Papa’s father was a patient man and answered all his questions meticulously. 
Until then, I hadn’t been allowed near the hives, but this time, Pops, as I called him, had a surprise for me. My very own beekeeper suit, long gloves and a gigantic hat with a protective veil.
Papa was just as excited as me when I’d dressed myself, and the three of us walked into the garden to inspect the beehives. Not after Dad had taken endless pictures, though.
“Fascinating, aren’t they?” Papa murmured in my ear when Pops lifted out one of the frames where bees crawled around and buzzed.
I could only nod in agreement, because I couldn’t get my eyes off them. The hexagon pattern, the delicious honey they produced, their colour, how organised it all was.
At dinner that night, I told Dad all about my bee adventure, helped by Papa and Pops. When Granny served her famous honey cake with toasted almond flakes on top and vanilla ice cream for dessert, my day was complete.
“Is the honey from Pops’ bees?” I asked hopefully.
“Oh, yes, Rosie,” Granny answered. “Your Pops wouldn’t allow any other honey inside this house. Besides, it’s the best honey for miles.”
Pops squeezed her hand, and I sighed happily when I was granted a second slice of cake.
***
After that day, Papa started to call me by another name. Not that he discarded Watson altogether, but it was mostly limited to when he reprimanded me, so I guess it turned out to have a chillier effect on me in the end. 
When he first used the new name in Dad’s presence, I could see tears form in his eyes.
“Bee,” Dad whispered. “What a beautiful and fitting name.”
“Indeed. You like it, don’t you?” Papa asked me.
“I love it,” I stated. “I’ve never had a pet name before, have I, Dad?”
���Not as such, love,” Dad agreed. “Do you want me to come up with something too?”
“Only if you want to. You call me love and sweetheart all the time in addition to my name, so it’s fine,” I told him.
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” Papa recited.
“You and your Shakespeare,” Dad teased.
“Well, it is a nice quote, though I think an originally Danish saying, also used in Norway as far as I know, describes what I’m thinking about even better,” Papa retorted.
“Can you translate it into English?” I asked expectantly.
“Of course, Bee,” Papa replied. “A dear child has many names.”
Also available on AO3
(@s in the replies)
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miloformula123fan · 2 days
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Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife reader? Bono was on the way to meet his wife and kid(s) and was stopped by Nico Rosberg. Nico's like an excited child trying to make a convo with him. And his family just laughed while watching Nico fumbling over his worlds in front of Bono. Nico then spotted them and decided to ask them a few questions. Just something fluff and sweet. Add something if you want to. You decide how it ended. Thanks!! :)))
look at me, still getting fics out
(also my current inbox is about 30, if this ever gets above 50, i'm closing requests :D)
Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.
also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better
and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)
peter bonnington x wife!reader
Bono was excited for this weekend. His wife had brought their 3 year old twins to their first race and so he was speeding through his meetings and the paddock to find his family.
And was he a little in his head?
Yeah
Did that mean he really had to bump into Nico Rosberg?
Apparently, yeah.
“Oh, hey Bono, um, wonderful to see you the paddock, I mean, you are always in the paddock, but y’know, obviously nice to see you…” Nico was floundering, panicking. He’d obviously seen Bono when he was in the Mercedes paddock, but that was before he had become the force he was today.
“Yeah Nico, lovely to see you too, is there anything you need?” Bono was a little annoyed, he just wanted to find his wife and kids, but he was happy to indulge Nico for a second as he tried to find them.
Y/N was barely 5 metres away, having enjoyed a nice coffee and some lunch with the kids. She felt like a spy sitting there with her sunglasses watching as Nico fumbled for his words, blushing and panicking, as her husband tried to look for a way to find his family, or at least a way out of this conversation. She smiled, before picking up her bag, and pointing out to her children their father, as they sprinted through people’s legs to get there.
“Dad! Dad!”
Bono turned around with a huge smile on his face, as he spotted his kids, opening up his arms, as they hugged him, picking them up.
He almost forgot about Nico as he let teh kids talk about how cool he looked and what they’d done at school that week.
Almost.
As he put the kids down, and placed a soft kiss on his wife’s lips, he noticed Nico crouching down and talking to his kids.
“Hello, what are your names?” Nico asked while crouching down to the 3 year olds level.
“I’m Clara and that’s Carl.” The girl, Clara, seemed a lot more confident that the boy, her brother, Carl, who almost was hiding behind his sister.
“It’s lovely to meet you both, I’m Nico, I’m friends with your dad. Are you gonna follow in his footsteps and be racing drivers? Or follow mum’s footsteps and be ballerinas?” Nico asked
“Oh god, Nico. The endless debate in our household. Clara wants to get into karts, but Pete is against it. And Carl wants to get into ballet and I’m against it. So…” Y/N laughed as she hugged Nico as he stood up. “Lovely to see you though.”
“Lovely to see you as well, come around for a dinner some time, Viv would love to see you.” Nico smiled before crouching down to the kids level “and Clara, if you ever need a kart, and your dad won’t let you, call me, and I’l buy you one, okay?”
“Nico stop corrupting my kids.” Bono laughed, before starting to usher the family back to hospitality. 
“I would never.” Nico feigned shock, before waving goodbye and returning to Sky.
“Now, c’mon, I’m hungry, let’s go get lunch!”
---
taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206
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Note
Klaine fic where they struggle to calm their baby and have to call for help? Or any newborn fics in genera?
I don't know of a struggling to calm baby, but I know many baby stories. (it's a fave, as you can tell!) ~Jen
Family Ties by killerqueen80
Even though they both agreed that they didn't want to know who their baby's biological father was, Kurt and Blaine both have moments when they're sure they know who it is. But they also have moments where it doesn't matter.
~~~~~
Quite a head of hair by killerqueen80
Kurt and Blaine's baby is born to much fanfaire, mostly because of how much hair she has, but also because she's the first baby among the Glee clubbers, and well, everyone has an opinion.
~~~~~
A cradle is an art by anna_timberlake
Every one shot will be celebrating the love of Klaine and their loved ones with a piece of Art, filling their love wall. Get ready for a sweet, fluffy ride with a tinge of other emotions too.
~~~~~
You Take My Breath Away by Queen by @teddyshoney
Their son has been up most of the night, and Kurt is finding his husband really sexy at a not-so-convenient time.
~~~~~~
24/7/365 by flaming_muse
Twenty-four hours (and fifteen minutes) in the life of Kurt, Blaine, and their baby daughter.
~~~~~
Meet Tracy by insightfulinsomniac
As soon as the auditorium dedication performance of “I Lived” ends, Kurt and Blaine decide that it’s time to introduce a special someone to their friends while they’re all together.
~~~~~ Oh, Baby by slayerkitty
Kurt and Blaine and various moments with their new baby.
~~~~~
Now it's your turn by warberslushie
Burt reflects on how amazing it is to watch his own child become a father. After all those years of struggles, he's happy to finally see Kurt succeeding in love, work, and now... parenthood. Takes before the 'I Lived' sequence in the final episode (6x13).
~~~~~ Burt's Pep talk by klqine
Shortly after Kurt and Blaine’s first daughter is born, Burt stops by and has a little face to face conversation with his son
~~~~~~
I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing- Klaine Valentines Challenge One Shot by MrsCriss2012
Kurt and Blaine bring their baby daughter home for the first time (follows canon events from season 6).
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orcelito · 2 months
Text
Done with the funeral 👍
It was rough at first, & there were a few Strange moments (like seeing my ex step family for the first time in like 8 years), but... in the end, it was actually kind of nice? I cried 3 times total, two during the service, but Thankfully not during when I spoke.
Which. That was actually not that bad. I ended up just reading what I wrote last night/this morning, which is usually not my presentation style, but I didn't have time to practice it lol.
I made people cry, though. Several people shared that with me. One person told me that I should be a writer, and I was like "Well, Good News about That!" I hadn't thought about the fact that my experience with writing would make a good eulogy, but apparently it did!
We played Linkin Park's Shadow of the Day at the end, since Linkin Park is something we grew up listening to because of him. And I'm just always gonna have that memory of it, now.
Yeah.
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weavingmemories · 2 years
Note
For the character bingo, hmm.... I'm gonna be predictable but not TOO predictable and ask for Yusuke, Futaba, and Mishima? ^^
yusuke:
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futaba:
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mishima:
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#robin rambles#i LOVE yusuke so much omg. his arc and its parallels with haru and akechi's particularly is so delicious#i really like how he goes through trying to process everything that happened to him re: madarame#i think about his and akechi's conversation in the thieves den about their respective fathers a lot and how they handle it very differently#i also just love his character so much. he's so silly so sweet and so precious#i could do with seeing more feral grin type yusukes but ... it's okay. their rarity makes them special#futaba has such a WONDERFUL arc and i loveeee her having a palace.#and what that introduces. your cognition can be totally distorted even if you're not a bad person#small slashes mostly because while i have no strong opinions against any ships#i just can't get invested in sh/utaba and su/mitaba ):#i do love yusuke & futaba together though#i also don't think it's wasted potential so much as i would have ADORED the fut/agoro half-siblings dynamic#augh i think about like. the fact that they really just could very well be related all the time#and mishima... MISHIMA my beloved#mostly half checked the 'i'm the only one who's correct' as a joke bc my sisters both can't stand him LOL#i really love mishima. his confidant is so cool. i love that he literally has a corruption arc in canon#and that you can go confront HIS shadow! whereas in most confidants it's like. someone else's that's harassing them#i also just have so much love in my heart for the fact that he and what he represents really saved the PT at the end#i'm always so upset that you can't be nicer to him. mishima rights!#thank you for the ask <3#answered#dangerousfantasist
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zarameraki · 4 months
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♡₊˚☀️・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 & 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 ♡₊˚☀️・₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 spoils the literal shit out of you 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content in vague details 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 he loves kissing the fuck out of you
: ̗̀➛ words: 7.7k
: ̗̀➛ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!
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Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock.  
You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.
"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.” 
Please cut your tongue off. 
Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, “Why is that?” 
“Oh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."
“Do you like reading?” he asked, still interested in conversing with you. “Most people would Google information.” 
“I like reading. It’s easier to retain information that way.” 
Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.
Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.
"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"
Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.
"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.
"An intern's birthday."
"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"
"July third."
Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. We’re summer babies."
“Happy belated birthday,” he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours. 
"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."
Nanami’s brows crinkled. “I cannot accept.” 
"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty. 
“Were you robbed?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. 
“What—? No! Oh my god. You’re so funny.” A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"
Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.”
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.”
“Our? It’s not a solo trip?”  
You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.
“Well?” Nanami prompted. 
"Right, sorry. It's just—I've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.”
Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but I’m capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, we’ve gone on a few dates over the past month."
Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"
"Yes."
“Why?” Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.
"What do you mean 'why'?"
His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "It’s not my place to tell you what’s right and what isn’t—"
"Yes, you’re right about that," you interrupted.
"—but this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your trip’s money to pay for a man you’ve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the traveler’s group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"
"Mr. Nan—"
"You are being scammed." 
Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism. 
But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.
He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didn’t understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.
Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.
With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.”
Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. “I suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.” 
You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counter—the money for the coffee and casse-croûte lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.
What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didn’t know what to make of it.
During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.
Toji never showed up.
You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserably—your calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.
The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick. 
With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.
The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routine—microwaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.
As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.
At least that was free. 
Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots. 
The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacks—chips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.
A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.
“Ah, sorry.” You let it go. “All yours—” You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon you—his uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. “Mr. Nanami . . . ”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in—”
“Good night.”
With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold. 
You’ve faced tons of humiliating moments—slipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's trip—stranger now—when it was supposed to be your trip. 
You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.
Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanami’s broad shoulders, you idiot!
Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all. 
“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. “Please. Take it.” 
He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. “So cold.” 
A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."
“Factually speaking, it is white.” 
You wiped an arm across your nose. “What?” 
“The sun. It’s white. It’s only yellow in children's books.” 
You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.
"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits me—"
Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.
A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” 
“No, it’s okay. Don’t—Don’t worry. About it.” You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mint—two of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. “You’re okay. I mean—You’re okay in general. You’re not okay with kissing. You’re probably great, I’m sure.” Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanami’s eyes followed the motion. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” 
You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his. 
Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.
Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it could’ve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.
And you kissed him back just as needy.
If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.
You’re not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.
Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.
Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.
“I'm gonna—”
“I should—”
Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.
“I've already missed quite a few workdays,” you said. “Gotta earn that dough if I want to make next month’s rent.” Nanami didn’t quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.
“Right,” you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted it—you were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. “I’m off now.”
“Goodnight,” Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count. 
“Night-night.” 
Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street. 
Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too much—
A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.
"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.
That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.
The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair. 
The oven beeped as the casse-croûtes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to him—your only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.
With his coffee prepared and two casse-croûtes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time. 
Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. You’d again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe you’d ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level. 
As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clock—6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show. 
Anxiety surged through you in an instant.
Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?
A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.
It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneity—constantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thought—
“Good evening.” 
“Ah!” you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.
But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.
You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.
"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.
Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. “Look at me.” As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"
“Mm-hmm.” You could cry from how gentle he was with you. “A-Are you okay?” 
“I am now.” He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. “I apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.” 
"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.
“Do your parents live here?” 
You shook your head. “They passed away a while ago.” 
“I apologize.” 
"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. “Tell me how your coffee tastes.” You turned around, adding, “I switched to a new brand of milk—”
Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.” He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s great. Everything you make is great.” 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didn’t know at all. “Do you still need me to give you the mechanic’s number?” 
“It’s all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, that’s all.” 
“Ah, okay. See, that’s why I prefer to walk.” 
Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. “Then, would you like to walk with me after you’ve closed?” 
“Oh.” A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. “Of course, yes. I’d love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafés in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.” A grave thought struck you just then. “Oh, actually. Hmm.” 
Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"
"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."
Nanami’s lips twitched. “I live nearby.” 
“Where?” You weren’t ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure. 
And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.
"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticed—one that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. “It will be quick.” 
“By all means.” You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway. 
Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.
Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croûtes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans. 
"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."
“What?” 
Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloud—at least, that’s what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."
Oh, my. 
Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. “Thank you.” 
He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."
At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.
Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.
You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.
As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didn’t complain, wouldn’t complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die. 
“Kento,” you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin. 
“Yes, darling?” 
Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. “I'm . . . I’m sorry.” 
“For what?” 
“For making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. “I know I can be too much sometimes—well, all the time.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?”
Nanami’s soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldn’t believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that you’ve known him. 
“No,” he said. 
You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. “No?” 
“No.” Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. “Please, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I can’t let you go—I won’t let you go."
"Kento—"
"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because I’ll never be too tired for you.” Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. “I know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because you’ve become my oxygen source. You’re a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you don’t have to bring anything to the table because there isn’t one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.” His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."
You could explode. 
Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croûte while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day. 
As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.
Never, Nanami Kento. You’re stuck with me. 
When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant). 
Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. “Yeah?” 
The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Leave it there. I’ll be there when I want to.” 
The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.
“Do all stockbrokers have assistants?” 
He tilted his head. “I’m not a stockbroker.” 
“Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.” 
“Yes, I was a stockbroker.” He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, “But I own a firm now.” 
Your brows hit your hairline. “That’s amazing!” 
“Thank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?” 
Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.
"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."
All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses. 
Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."
"What is it?"
Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.
As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.
Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.”
"I'll take it.” Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.
“Y/N.” 
“Thank you,” you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanami’s stare. 
“Y/N.” 
“Yes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. “Oh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.” You cut off his protests with a kiss. 
He surrendered instantly. 
Over the next four weeks, you didn’t realize how quickly you’d become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gestures—bouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac. 
You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.
At least, you were both Team Cats.
Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sex—when the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.
Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."
Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.
The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.
So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.
"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.
"Absolutely, darling.” Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."
“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’d love to!” 
Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.” He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again. 
You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."
"Understandable.” He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.
You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."
Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."
“Gosh, you're so flirty,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.
“Come on now.” 
You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.
Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.
He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head. 
As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. “What is it?” 
“Nothing,” you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. “I was just . . . God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming of you. And I don’t want to wake up from it.” 
Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.
“Ken—Wait, there’s a camera!” 
“I own the building.” 
Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.
The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.
“Your front door is an elevator?” You marveled with an open jaw. 
“Yes, it seems so.”
Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies. 
Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue. 
“I knew you were a clean freak,” you said between his kisses, “but your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.” 
“Two weeks ago.” He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. “That’s why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.” 
"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"
"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.
But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. “But you don’t live here?” 
“I don’t.” His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. “I live in Shibuya.” 
“Shibuya? Kento, that’s an hour and a half away!"
"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.
"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"
He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.
"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"
Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt. 
You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"
Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."
As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.
Oh, God. 
You loved him. 
You loved him so much.
Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you. 
“I don’t deserve your kindness,” you whispered. 
“Neither did I the night when we met.” Nanami’s words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. “Our front door is an elevator.” 
Your breath hitched. “What?” 
“Move in with me.” 
“Kento—”
“I know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."
Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you weren’t meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.
Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.
7K notes · View notes
neo-nomatrix · 5 months
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The Olive Theory
Luke Castellan x Reader
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word count: 641
summary: Strawberries are your favorite thing in the whole world, luckily for you Luke seems to “hate them”
a/n: based on the olive theory from himym
@repostingmyfavs
There are two things you truly love in this world: Luke and Strawberries.
You often find yourself helping the Demeter and Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields, despite your actual job being at the infirmary. Miranda often scolded you for taking strawberries for yourself during the day, you didn’t mind though. The sweet yet tart berry was worth it.
Your obsession with the fruit grew even further. You begged the dryads for extra portions during dinner, pairing them with yogurt and melted chocolate. Your least favorite part was having to sacrifice the berry to your godly father. You debated giving something else to him but everyone at camp and above knew your love for them, there was no running from it.
Luke was well aware of your passion for strawberries. Going as far as joking that you love them more than him. You both aren’t quite sure if it’s a joke or not.
You sit at a picnic table near the Hermes cabin with luke. You had just sat down with Percy and three shortcakes for each of you. Luke leans over and presses a soft kiss against your temple as you sit down. Percy notices that you can barely acknowledge it since your focus is on the cake.
Both Luke and Percy stare at you in wonder as you eye the desert, they can’t seem to figure out why you haven’t eaten it yet. Impatient, you look over and luke with a wanting gaze.
“Oh- right,” he says understandingly.
Percy is clearly confused by the seemingly telepathic communication. His eyes dart between you and Luke, your gaze once again set on your plate. Luke picks off the strawberries from his cake and places them on your plate. As soon as the first two strawberries are there you start devouring the cake like a ravenous hyena. Percy starts to wonder if you’re even chewing. Luke starts to eat some of his until he stops halfway. He puts the remaining piece of cake on your plate for you. You eat it immediately as if it was there the whole time.
“Are you gonna have that?” You ask politely, eyeing a large, red strawberry on Percy’s plate.
His eyes shift down to where your gaze is settled, “No, go ahead.”
You smile and take it with your fork, biting into it quickly. Percy’s eyes shift back to Luke, who’s been staring at you since the moment you sat down. His face held a small smile as he admired you. You smiled as you licked the whipped cream off your fork.
“I think I'm gonna get another slice!” You exclaim happily, standing up and nearly skipping to where the dryads are.
Luke watches as you leave, eyes falling on your figure.
“I never realized she liked strawberries that much,” Percy said.
“Yeah, I'm kinda surprised she hasn’t turned into one yet,” he laughs quietly.
“I assume you don’t like them that much? I mean- you gave her all of yours and half of the cake,” Percy explains.
“Strawberries? no way, they’re great. But she loves them so much, and I'd do anything to make her happy,” Luke smiles as he nibbles on the remains of one of your eaten berries.
You come back with a widest smile on your face. You hold another cake alongside a cup of strawberries. You sit down, happily eating more of the cake and strawberries.
“Isn’t it so great that Luke doesn’t like them? I get them all to myself!” You say, beaming.
“Yeah,,, perfect,” Percy says slowly, remembering the new found information.
“Mhm; I’d give my girl all the strawberries in the world if I could,” Luke mumbles.
Luke has a single mission in life, making you happy. Even if that means giving up his favorite fruit for you. Your smile is worth much more than a simple strawberry.
6K notes · View notes
hoonieshoney · 18 days
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Synopsis: After Lee Heeseung got caught in bit of a legal scandal he is summoned to community service thanks to his father’s legal connections. Heeseung finds himself stuck for the next six weeks working at the local church, how lucky for him the pastors sweet daughter is there to keep him company.
Pairing: LeeHeeseung x afabNaive!Virgin!Reader
Warnings: “DARK CONTENT-ish”.Dub con, manipulation, religious themes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), thigh riding, creampie, cum eating, masturbation (male and female), sexual use of a rosary, sexual scenes in a church, fingering, cursing, dirty talk, corruption kink, oral (male&female), hair pulling, slight spanking, slight mention of blood, slight choking, ??noncon??(I'm adding that tag because there is a moment of hesitation that could be viewed as noncon)
Word Count: 7.3k
Part of 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖚𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 , but can be read as a stand alone!
Taglist: @deobitifull @iveivory
Author Note: Though this isn’t as dark as my normal content I’m still marking it as dark because it’s still manipulation and it has dark and religious themes to it (and I know people are sensitive to those topics), so to be safe and protect those individuals I’m just marking it as dark content. Not 100% proofread, if you see a mistake, no you didn’t❤️ I hope you enjoy it! ❤️I appreciate all comments/reblogs/likes ❤️ I love to hear your thoughts ❤️ Enjoy little ducklings!
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Lee Heeseung is well aware of what he is. He’s a liar, a manipulator, an unreliable friend, an average college student, but above everything, what he takes the most pride in, is that Heeseung is an amazing hookup. He knows he’s hot, he knows girls talk about how great he is in bed especially about how well endowed he is. 
He’s never had to fight for anything in his life, he’s always gotten what he wanted without hesitation, and yes, that includes women. 
He loves women, more notably he loves taken women. The rush of having someone’s girlfriend underneath him compares to nothing else, especially if they're hooking up with the boyfriend nearby. He can’t explain it, he loves the rush he gets knowing they picked him, they’re risking it all for him. 
And watching that same girl go up to her loser boyfriend and kiss him with the same mouth Heeseung just had his dick in has his chest swelling with pride.  
But you. Fuck. You were the ultimate prize, the forbidden fruit, the one. 
Six weeks of forced community service under the watchful eye of the most respected church pastor in town, your father. Heeseung was initially pissed knowing he’d be spending three days a week, including church service on Sundays, in a tiny stuffy room sorting through church donations. But then the most wonderful “miracle” happened, you. 
He doesn’t know how it happened, you’re not the type of girl he goes for. You didn’t even spare him a second glance when he walked in on his first day. But fuck, your face, your modest clothing, your big doe eyes, everything he wouldn’t spare a glance at on a normal day had him aching to touch you. The silver cross necklace resting on your collarbones, the Bible you always had nearby with sticky notes and bookmarks sticking out, the white and silver rosary always nearby and that fucking ring…oh my god he almost lost all self control when he heard about it that first week of work.  
“Are you engaged? You’re still in college, why would you want to settle down already?” He asks, tapping the silver band on your left ring finger.
You giggle and swat his hand away, “no silly. It’s a purity ring.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “what’s that?”
“It’s a promise ring to God basically. Meaning I’ll remain pure until marriage.”
His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. No sex until marriage? That sounds horrible.
“So you’ve never…”
“Of course not!” You say, like you’re offended by the assumption. 
“Have you ever kissed anyone?” His interest now fully peaked. 
“Nope,” you answer, popping the ‘p’ sound.
“So in a way...you belong to God?” He questions licking his lips.
“Yeah..until I get married, I guess you could say that.” 
Fuck.
He barely made it outside to the church parking lot into his car with his hand wrapped around his cock jerking off to the mental image of your dainty hand wrapped around him instead, looking up at him with wide curious eyes like you usually do. The image of that little band on your finger had him spilling all over his hand in minutes, even managing to get some of his cum on the windshield.  
He hasn’t stopped thinking about it. He never had any desire for virgins, they were way too whiny and he didn’t like how clingy they were afterwards. 
But you. 
You were completely untouched, completely untainted, so pure, he wanted to devour you. He wanted to own every part of you. 
You were the grand prize..he loved fucking promised women, and when you said you “belonged to God” that was it.
He was on a mission.
He had to take you from him.
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“What are you staring at?” You asked, breaking Heeseungs train of thoughts.
“Nothing..sorry angel, just spaced out.” He smiles watching you look up at him.
“Stop calling me that,” you mumbled at the nickname Heeseung bestowed to you since starting his community service at your fathers church. 
“You like it,” he teased, flashing his signature side smirk. You did, but a part of you also didn't know if he meant it in a condescending way.
“Come on, we'll be late for the service.” 
You clutched your bible and rosary to your chest and started to ascend the church steps with Heeseung trailing behind. You weren’t sure what exactly he did to end up here, but he’s been a big help to you with all the church donation organizing. 
And he hardly complained, it even seemed like he was starting to enjoy coming to Sunday services and sitting in the pew with your friends and family. Taking your usual spots on the pew, you open your Bible and wait for your father to start the service. 
Heeseung was so confused at what was happening, he couldn’t understand what your dad was preaching about, didn’t understand the songs, and didn’t know a single prayer. This whole thing was a fucking waste of his time. The only good thing about these Sunday services was being near you. Especially when you got on your knees during the service, when you would take the bread of Christ in your mouth and swallow it down with the sacramental wine, it had him imagining unspeakable things. The way you had your hands clasped together, looking up with big doe eyes as you took the offerings was such a sinful sight. 
After the service you stayed behind with Heeseung to put away any new donations made by the churchgoers. 
“Did you enjoy today's service?” You ask. 
“Yeah, I definitely learned a lot today,” a sheepish grin adorns his face. He doesn’t even remember half of it.
There wasn’t any denying Heeseung was attractive. Everything about him was inviting. Sometimes your hands would brush or he would accidentally press up against you to walk around in the small donation room and it had a flushing sensation on your body. 
You tried not to focus on it, you were also very well aware of the promiscuous reputation he carried on his back. 
“That’s good, I’m going to miss having you around here when you leave us,” you admit shyly.
“Don’t worry angel, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smirked, leaning forward on the sorting table you both were working at. 
“You’re such a flirt,” You shake your head. He can see the smile you’re biting back and the tips of your ears redden.
“Can’t help it when I’m around a pretty girl,” he shrugs.
You roll your eyes and focus back on sorting through the small donation pile. He’s a player, he’s a player, you repeat to yourself in your head, he doesn’t like you in that way.
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Where am I? 
A floral field surrounds you, kneeling on a blanket, clad in a typical dress you normally wear for Sunday services with your rosary clutched in your hands. What’s going on?
“Hey angel..” that voice, ah that velvet smooth voice that has your heart in your throat.
He looks beautiful, of course he does, sitting on the blanket next to you. His dark messy hair falling in front of his doe eyes, he’s in white slacks and a white button up, the sleeves rolled up.
He almost looks ethereal, “come closer to me.” 
Without hesitation you move to him. 
“Let me see,” he motions toward the beads in your hands. You hand them over and watch the mischievous smirk creep onto his face. He moves behind you on his knees and rubs his hands on your shoulders, massaging you. You hum feeling his large hands rub down your arms stopping at your wrists.
He wraps the beads around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. You look at him confused, but he just smiles and turns your body around to face him. He sits back on his bottom and pulls into his lap. Making sure to position you where you’re straddling his thigh, causing your dress to lift up slightly.
“H-Heeseung what are you-“
He stroked your cheek, cutting you off, “can you pray for me?”
“What?” 
He rubs his hands on your exposed thighs. “Let me hear you pray. Recite the all father, for me, angel.” The nickname only makes you shudder under his touch. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.
“Our Father, Who art in heaven,” 
You suddenly gasp, feeling him grab your hips and rock your body back and forth on his thigh. 
“Hall-hallowed be Thy N-n-name. Thy Kingdom co-come,” you gasp and try to move your hands from behind your back but he's restrained you tightly with your rosary. The friction from his pants against your drenched panties rubbing against your swollen clit is slowly becoming unbearable.  
“Thy Wi-will be do-done, On-on earth as it is-is in Heaven.”
You cry out as he starts flexing his thigh underneath you, desperate to touch him you fight against the rosary keeping your arms bound behind you. He pulls you down harder on his leg making you rock against him faster. This is how he wanted you, completely at his mercy.
“Keep going angel…” His lips were on your neck sucking the soft skin between his teeth.
“Give us-us this day, o-our daily br-bread,”
He grabs your throat making you look up at him and watches you intently as you rock against his thigh sloppily trying to desperately chase your high. You pant with your eyes wide and glassy, your moves becoming more erratic as you struggle against the rosary. 
“And for-forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who-who trespass ag-against us.”
You were soaking through his slacks. Your voice gets more breathy as you feel that knot in your lower belly ready to snap, closing your eyes trying to desperately keep the same pace against his flexed thigh. 
“Don’t you dare look away….” He growls gripping your chin, your eyes snap open and he stares right into your soul. “Make a mess, angel.” 
Your eyes stared into his dark ones and you moaned out loudly feeling yourself release onto his thigh. Your mouth dropped open but only choked noises were coming out, letting the blinding heat of your orgasm course through your veins. He lets you catch your breath while rubbing your trembling bottom lip, “finish it..”
“And lead us not into temptation.....but deliver us from evil.” you pant out staring at him still on your orgasmic high.
“Good fucking girl”
You shoot up from your bed, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat and a sticky feeling between your legs. Pulling the blanket off of you to try and let in cold air to your body you gasp at the sight of your gray sleep pants completely soaked through.
What the fuck..
Why did you just dream about Lee Heeseung..
And did you just cum completely untouched?.. 
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Swallowing thickly you walk through the church parking lot to your designated donation table by your fathers side. Today was the church food drive, lots of people were showing up to drop off their canned goods. It was also the first day seeing Heeseung since your dream. Since that night you’ve felt the dull uncomfortable ache between your legs, and a part of you knew only he could fix it. Which only had you feeling disgusting for having such thoughts. 
“Seungie!” A high pitched squeaky voice breaks you out of your concentration and you see a girl running toward Heeseung. The girl, only clad in short shorts and a small tank top, throws her arms around Heeseung giggling.
He’s smirking at her and obviously checking her out. An uncomfortable churn in your stomach makes you look away. 
Why do you care? You knew he had quite the reputation, lots of the girls around you whispered about his escapades and how they so badly wanted to experience it for themselves.Why were you jealous?
Heeseung sees you from the corner of his eye, how your body tensed up when he hugged Karina and how you immediately looked away.
Fuck, how is he supposed to get you to trust him when these stupid girls are acting this way in front of you. 
“Are you even listening to me, Seungie?” Karina’s shrill voice snaps him back to his reality. 
“Sorry, I’m just super busy right now. Can we talk later?”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “so what? Now that you fucked me you don’t want to talk to me now?”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend to worry about?” He glares.
“We broke up..you said I was special. I thought we could be tog-“
He raises his hand and shakes his head. “I’m gonna stop you right there Karina. You were fun, but that hookup was all we’re ever gonna have. I never told you to break up with him.”
“So that’s it? We’re over?”
He wants to laugh, “Karina we were never a thing.”
“Fuck you, Heeseung.” He watches her stomp away with tears in her eyes. 
He looks back at your table and sees your back is turned to him. 
Ah fuck, were you mad? He watches you grab a box of donated food and walk into the small donation building you two work out of. 
Perfect, he can talk to you alone. 
“Are you mad at me?” Heeseung asks, walking into the donation room startling you. 
“Why do you ask that?” You mumble avoiding his gaze.
“You’ve won’t even look at me, angel.” He stands next to you as you place the food on the shelf. You look at him briefly and chew your bottom lip nervously.  
“I'm just busy Heeseung, we have a lot of food to sort through.”
“I don't care angel, what's wrong?” He moves closer to you, caging you against the shelf you’re working on. 
“Are you dating that girl that was all over you?” You blurt out before you realize. You feel the embarrassment wash over you. Way to keep it cool. 
He studies your face before breaking out into a smug grin. You weren’t mad at him, you were jealous of Karina. 
“Does that matter?” He asks, leaning toward you testing just to see how jealous you really were. 
“I guess not, what you do with easy girls is your business.” You bite. 
He barks a laugh, oh you were so fucking jealous and it was so fucking hot. He has never heard you talk bad about anyone before. But here you were, calling Karina easy because you liked him. He was already tainting you. 
“I’m not dating her, angel.”
“She was all over you,” you whisper. He watched your annoyed expression turn into a pout and your eyes avoided his nervously. 
Oh you poor sweet thing. If only you knew how much I wanted to fuck you, you wouldn’t be jealous of some slut. 
“Aw, did my angel not like that?”He says with faux sympathy, caressing your cheek. 
“Don’t make fun of me!” His touch only ignited that burning feeling in the pit of your belly.
“I’m not angel, you’re just so fucking cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous!” You try not to melt into his touch but it’s hard. And he looks so inviting. 
He was standing so close to you. His cologne overwhelmed your senses, you could feel the warmth of his body heat. He watches your face and smiles, noticing how your eyes keep dropping to his lips, having a hard time on where to keep your focus. 
Time to test the waters a little further. 
“Am I making you nervous, angel?” 
“No,” you lie. He chuckles, he knows you’re lying, your body gives it away. He can see your pink cheeks, your clenched fists at your side and watches you rub your thighs together. He leans down and places his lips right on your earlobe and he inhales the scent of your floral shampoo. He feels you shudder against him.
“Does anyone else get your little body reacting this way?” His breath fans across your neck. You almost whine when he removes his face and stares down at you with hooded eyes. 
He pushes a piece of hair behind your ear and runs his thumb along your jaw. Stopping at your bottom lip he rubs it softly, of course it’s soft. 
The vivid images of your dream flash across your brain and your eyes widen remembering him doing the same thing after your orgasm. He sees your panicked gaze and he can feel his cock throbbing in his jeans. His gaze darkens, “you’re so fucking pretty, angel.”
His touch made your skin feel warm, it sent little shockwaves throughout your body and was leaving an uncomfortable mess between your thighs. 
“I-um..have to go..” you push past him and quickly walk out of the little room. You needed to breathe, your body was going into overdrive and it felt like it was on fire. This wasn’t supposed to feel good. Your body isn’t supposed to react that way. These feelings..were sinful. 
The donation drive was still busy and you didn’t want to be seen. Spotting the empty church you decide its best to put distance between you and Heeseung and try to ground yourself from these overwhelming feelings. You run in and look around the familiar space, you need to pray. You needed to beg for forgiveness. You needed to do something to stop these feelings. 
Your eyes lock onto the confessional booth and you breathe a sigh of relief. That could work.
Shutting the door to the small confessional you sit on the wooden chair and try to calm your breathing. You never felt this out of control of your body before, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. 
You hear the door to the otherside of the confessional open and close, only able to see the silhouette of the person coming in because of the latticed divider providing anonymity for the people who are using it to confess their sins to your father. 
“Are you really hiding from me, in here?”
Of course it’s him. 
“What do you want, Heeseung?” You try your best to sound stable but your voice comes out shaky. 
“Why are you hiding from me angel?”
His voice was laced with more faux sympathy. He knows what he’s doing. He also knows you’re too naive to pick up on how he’s messing with you. 
“You..you make me feel weird..”
“In a bad way?” He can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. 
“In a way..I’ve never felt before..it scares me..I don’t know what to do..”
Fuck you sounded so good like this. So desperate, so ready to be molded into his little slut. 
“Are you wet..”
He was feeling bold now. 
“W-what..”
He can hear the trembling in your voice. He lowers his voice and presses his lips against the lattice screen so you can hear him clearly. 
“Is your little pussy wet for me, angel?”
“H-Heeseung! We’re in the church! Don’t say things like that..”
He can hear the change in your breathing and whine in your tone. Oh, this was going to be a piece of cake. 
You hear him fiddle with the buckle of his belt. “Put your hand in your panties, angel..”
“I can-can’t do that..” You gasp, was he serious? Was he really going to do such immoral things in the confessional? 
“Yes you can angel, do it for me. It’ll make you feel good, baby girl, I promise.” 
As much as he wanted to degrade and ruin you, he couldn’t risk you running out of this booth and telling your father. He had to play with you a little to get you wanting more of him. 
“Touch yourself..tell me how it feels angel..”
His tone was soft and comforting, maybe..maybe just this once. And he was offering to help, you would be rude to not accept his help, right?
Slipping your shaking fingers into your skirt and into panties you feel the amount of arousal that has leaked out of you. “Wh-what do you want me to do..”
He groans, throwing his head back on the confessional wall. The question alone was enough to tip him over the edge. You really were an innocent angel, he was going to mold you into the perfect little plaything for him. 
“Rub your pussy baby, just keep rubbing it for me.”
He spits in his palm and starts rubbing his weeping cock. 
You slid your fingers between your slicked lips, lightly grazing your clit, making your hips buck in the air and a loud whimper escaping your lips before you could clamp your teeth on your bottom lip. You had never felt the need to masturbate before, this was all new to you. You find your clit again and rub your fingers faster against it, moaning out again, he presses his head against the lattice desperate to see you but can only make out the silhouette of your body and your arm moving. He fucks his fist faster to the sounds of your whimpers. 
“I can hear how wet you are angel, fuck I bet you’re dripping all over the chair. Don’t you dare go inside, I’m the only one going inside of that virgin pussy.” 
His dirty mouth only makes you whine and clench around nothing. You pressed your fingers to your entrance, you didn't slip inside, just teased the hole to get a feel for it, even more of your arousal was leaking out of you. You prop a leg on the chair giving you better access to your clit and your rub harder and faster against the swollen bundle. 
“Cum for me angel, let me hear my angel’s sweet voice when she cums.” His voice is husky and you replay the images of your dream, mixed with hearing the sounds of his groans and the squelching of his hand around his cock send you into overdrive moving your hand faster. Your vision goes spotty and you moan out in ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your head hits the wall as you whine loudly, your toes curling in your shoes. The sound has Heeseung’s eyes rolling into his head and he chokes out a gasp as his cum shoots out in hot thick ropes and coats his hand and part of the confessional box. 
You sink into your chair and try to breathe, your body still convulsing from little aftershocks of your first ever orgasm. Coming down from your euphoric high you see the little cross above the door and feel the shame. 
What have you done? It’s bad enough to act on such desires..but in a confessional. This had to be unforgivable. 
Stepping out of the confessional box on shaky legs you look around the church and feel the shame overtake the high you were just on. 
You're in a church, in God's house, and you just masturbated in a confessional box. The reality of your actions repeating over and over in your head. 
Heeseung opens the door to his side of the box and immediately engulfs you in his arms, his mouth is on yours before you even have time to react; your first kiss.
It’s soft at first, both of his hands coming to cup your face but he gets hungrier by the second. Moving his soft lips against yours chasing every movement, you almost forget to breathe trying to pull away but his grip is tight on you. Sliding his tongue in between your lips and lightly massages your own causing a small groan to bubble within you. He smirks, feeling how cautious and uncertain your tongue moves against his. He pulls away, giving your bottom lip one last lick and pecking it one last time. 
“We should get back out there, angel.” 
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Sunday approached quicker than you would have liked. You spent days replaying the events of what happened with Heeseung over and over. A part of you felt saddened by the whole thing, he didn’t talk to you about it afterward and he didn’t call or text and it seemed like maybe he just wanted to add you to the long list of girls he had. But another part of you was desperate for more of him, wanting him to do more, and wanting to be enough so that he wouldn’t need those other girls. The conflicting sides of you causing inner turmoil and questioning your place in the world.
You spent your whole life with a moral code, you never let anyone challenge that or try and change who you were. And now, you didn’t know where you stood. Because if Heeseung didn’t want to be with you, and he was just using you, that would mean you changed your core values for someone who didn’t respect you. And what respectable man would want you after that? After you easily give up your innocence to someone with a questionable reputation. 
You shake the thoughts out of your head and wipe the tears on the back of your hand and continue to straighten up the church altar. Services ended an hour ago, everyone had gone home and you were left alone to clean up the altar and the mess of your life. Heeseung didn’t sit with you today like he usually did and it was his last Sunday of his community service sentence, he left right after service. So it’s safe to assume he's just gone and you were passing the time for him while he was here. 
“What are you doing in here?” Heeseung asks, startling you. You turn around and watch him walk down the aisle to the altar he sees you cleaning.
“Just putting some stuff away,” you mumbled wiping the rag across the marble altar table. 
“Where is your father?” He asks looking around making sure no one was in sight. 
“The clergy have a lunch meeting together this afternoon, I told my father I’d stay behind to clean so he can attend.”
He hears the sadness in your voice and bites back a smile. He saw you the entire service staring at him with hopeful eyes trying to get his attention. He wanted you to miss him, to want him, to need him. And judging by the sad tone and watery eyes, his plan had worked. He had you right where he wanted you. 
“Why are you still here? Isn’t today your last Sunday?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes.  
“Is that why you’re sad, angel? Because you think I’d leave without my girl?” He smiled, stopping in front of the altar. You roll your eyes and turn back around to finish what you were doing. 
“I’m not your girl Heeseung,” 
“You and I both know that’s a lie, angel. Careful, God doesn’t like liars.” He taunts coming up behind you and rubbing his hands down your arms. He feels you tense under his touch, the goosebumps rise on your skin. 
Dropping his face down to your shoulder he sighs softly, “you know, you look really angelic right now..standing here in this pretty white dress, all these candles lit, it's almost sinful how beautiful you look.” He whispers in your ear gently nipping at your earlobe. 
You grip the rag in your hand tightly. “What do you want from me, Heeseung?” 
“I want you,” He answers, kissing your shoulder. 
“I don’t..I don’t want to be like other girls..” you softly admit.
He smirks against your shoulder rubbing his hands on your hips and turning you around.
“Angel, you’re nothing like the other girls.”
“Really…?” You look up at him with your wide doe eyes and he smiles. 
Gotcha, angel. You’re mine now. 
“Trust me baby, they don’t compare to you..”
The innocent smile on your face was going straight to his cock. He needed to work fast. Rubbing your cheek tenderly he kisses your lips, letting his tongue work its way into your mouth. He grabs your hand in his larger one and guides it down to the front of his jeans placing it right over his hard on. You gasp and pull away confused, but he chases your mouth with his and continues to kiss you while he “whines” to you. 
“Angel..*kiss*..it hurts..*kiss*..it hurts so bad..*kiss*..please touch me angel..*kiss*..make it better..please..” The soft whine in his voice makes you want to help. You don’t want him to hurt, you have to help him. 
You were too fucking easy to mold. 
He unbuckles his jeans and lowers them just enough to release himself. Your hands are clumsy as you reach for him, he sees your nervousness and it only fuels the fire. Wrapping your small hand around his heavy length you look at him for guidance. He wraps his hand around yours and guides it up and down in a pumping motion. You watch his eyes close and hear him hiss, “Fuck…just like that angel..”
He lets you work on his length for a few minutes before he tests the waters again. 
“Angel..I need more..I need your mouth. Can you be a good girl and get on your knees for me?”
You stop pumping him and look at him for a few seconds. You nod, and drop to your knees on the wooden floor and you finally fully take the sight of him. He’s long and thick, it bobs in the air, it’s two toned with an angry red tip and salty precum leaking from the slit. The sight had your mouth watering.
The sight of you finally on your knees in front of him was almost too much. He wasn’t going to last long. 
You look up at him and grab his cock and lick a circle around the mushroom tip, suckling the tip to drink in his precum. 
His knees almost give out instantly. This was already better than any prior sexual experience he had ever had. 
“Angel..” He breathes out and makes a makeshift ponytail out of your hair. You keep his eye contact and take his length slowly into your mouth, hoping you're doing okay. Your tongue glides around his throbbing length and he moans again. 
“Do you want me to guide you angel..” 
You hum around him and the smug grin returns to his face. “Relax your jaw and let me take over.”
You obey and he hums stroking your cheek. The sweet affection only lasts for a second before he pulls your mouth further down his cock and you choke around him. The vibrations only added to his pleasure. Tears sting your eyes as he starts to fuck your face pushing your head down further and further on his cock. 
“That’s it angel..you’re doing so well for me..”
His praises only fuel you to try and be good for him. You let him continue to pound into your throat, the chocked sounds around his cock pushing him close to his release. 
Your tear eyes and mouth wrapped around him, having him seeing stars, he pulls out quickly. He was only going to cum in one hole today and it wasn’t going to be your mouth. He watches the spit and precum dribble down your chin and mix with your tears. 
Fuck. He was so close to losing all self control. 
“Fuck me angel, you look so good like this, what would God say of he saw you like this,” He teases wiping the mess off your chin.
“Don’t say that..”you frowned.
The pout..that fucking pout did it. It pushed him to the edge. 
“Fuck…I cant hold on anymore I have to fuck you.” His eyes narrowed as he gripped you by your hair to your feet.  
“Hee-Heeseung I can’t..” you shake your head and try to back away. 
“You can and you will, angel.”
You stare at him with a confused expression, was he serious? He doesn’t give you time to take in his words because he's picking you up and leaning you against the marble altar you just cleaned. He places you on the altar, discarding the large Bible, and other items to the floor before sitting you down and slotting himself between your legs. 
He grabbed the front of your dress and yanked it down with your bra exposing your bare tits to him, your nipples instantly harden from the cool air. 
You truly looked sinful. Sitting on the church altar, bible discarded on the floor, lit candles around the both of you, the sun shining in through the stained glass windows painting you in red hues, if there truly was a God Heeseung was going to hell for what he was about to do to God’s favorite angel.
Your doe eyes were wide with anticipation as you stared at him waiting for his next move. Everything around you seemed to have blur out, no longer caring where you were. All you could focus on was Heeseung. 
He takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and massages the other with his large hand, pinching the bud between his fingers. Your jaw goes slack at the feeling of his tongue, you arch into him at the new sensation. 
While you're distracted he slips his hand under your dress and skillfully tugs down your panties, of course noticing how the entire front of them are completely drenched in your arousal. He bites down harder on your nipple and sucks harshly causing you to arch your back again and lean your head back further and he carefully slots the ruined panties in his back pocket while you’re not looking. A perfect reminder of today. 
Pulling away he kisses your chest before standing up straight and looking down on you, he pushes you gently on your back, you shiver feeling the cold marble under your back. He pushes your knees up and places your feet flat on the altar displaying your leaking pussy to him. He licked his bottom dip, he wanted a taste of you, but time was a factor and he needed to get his dick in you fast before you got lost in your head and changed your mind. 
He ran his fingers over your slippery pussy gathering some of your moisture and rubbed around your entrance and slowly pushed one of his long fingers inside. He watched your eyes flutter shut and mouth drop open. Fuck, you were impossibly tight.
You felt your walls clenching around him and he shoved another finger in. You moaned out at the intrusion.
You pushed yourself up on your elbows as you watched, he continued to scissor his two fingers inside of you to stretch you out.
“Does it feel good angel?” He whispers against your knee and kisses it. 
You nod cautiously, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“You're so fucking tight I don’t know if my cock will fit in this little pussy angel.” He smirks feeling how you clench around his fingers at his dirty talk. 
His long fingers explored you searching for that special spot. He taps a particular spongy spot and you drop back onto your back moaning loudly, and your hips buck into his hand. 
Found it. 
The amount of moisture leaking out of you was sinful, he dropped his head between your thighs and licked a stripe from his fingers to your clit to just get a taste of you. You jerked at the sensation and clenched harder around his fingers. 
Fuck, he usually couldn’t be bothered about going down on women, but you tasted so sweet he was definitely going to have to spend an hour or two later just devouring your leaking cunt. Kissing the inside of your thigh he fucks his fingers into you faster, making sure to hit that spongy spot.
“Come on angel..cum for me..”
He latches his mouth back onto your chest leaving purple bites in his path. You groan the feeling of that familiar knot in your abdomen is back. Running your fingers through his messy dark hair you arch slightly more into his mouth, your hips stutter, and you release all over his hand crying out. His fingers stayed inside of you working you through your orgasm.
Watching you come down from your high his dark eyes flicker to the large cross above you and he chuckles softly, maybe he should thank the heavens for bringing you to him. 
His smirk is devilish as he pulls his fingers from you and pumps himself a few times and pulls your body closer down to his awaiting cock.
He sees the apprehension on your face and smiles. “Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit.”
You nervously try to close your legs but he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly making you whine, “your pussy is mine, angel. Don't hide it from me."
You whine and let him spread your legs. 
He grabbed his cock and spread your release along his aching length. He pressed his tip to your folds and rubbed it back and forth, from clit to your entrance making you writhe in overstimulation.
In a moment of slight panic realizing what was about to happen you brought your hands up to his chest to try and push him away. 
“Wait Heeseung..I don’t think I’m ready..”
“Stop thinking angel, just let me think for you,” He smirks and you feel his mushroom tip stretching you as he pressed inside of you slowly. He lifted the bottom of your dress to your chest so he wouldn't miss the view.
You hissed and he went deeper, pushing a little at a time. He pushed your body down on the altar flat on your back as he pushed into your walls further. Your nails scraping the marble under you and tears filled your wide eyes as you felt him reach the thin barricade of your virginity. This was it, there wasn't any coming back from this. You took a shaky breath, your body was trembling underneath him, he moaned loudly as he ripped right past it and you choked out a sob when you felt it break.
God, forgive me.
You let out a small pained whimper as he continued stretching you to your limit, the further he pushed in the more painful it was. Finally, he reached the hilt inside your tight virgin hole. His pelvis pressed right against yours. 
He stayed buried inside your heat as he leaned down and placed a tender soft kiss on your lips. Nipping at your bottom lip and slithering his tongue past the barrier and exploring your mouth trying to distract you from the discomfort. Your mouth was slack against his, the stretch was too painful to focus on anything else.
Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you grinning at the sight of the small bulge under your belly button where his cock was. 
“You’re taking me so well angel,”
He pressed down on the bulge and watched you gasp out. “You feel that? God made you for me.” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck applying slight pressure. 
You were shaking, the tears never stopped streaming down your reddened cheeks. He pulled out of you and you breathed a sigh of relief from the pain subsiding but he pushed back in you hard, causing another choked sob from your throat. He kept his thrusts at a fixed pace at first, easing himself in and out as you whimpered and writhed under him. He took a second to admire the way your body twisted against him. The more his cock filled you, the better it started to feel, the dull pain between your legs starting to fade into bliss. 
He smiles proudly seeing you start to relax and let your body slowly start to rock against his. 
“That’s it angel, fuck that little virgin pussy on me” He sped up his thrusts, moving his hand between the two of you and pressing his fingers down on your clit. Your back arches off the altar, “oh god!”
“Not God baby…say my name..scream it.”
You wrapped your thighs around him as he rocked into you harder. “Heeseung!”
Your eyes rolled back as your body was fully succumbing to the pleasure he was giving you. You could barely feel any pain anymore as he fucked harder and faster into you. Your hands went straight to his shoulders for leverage, “M-more…Hee-Heeseung, I need more..”
He groaned, watching you bounce against him, licking his lips, his pace picked up. “my angel wants more? You want me to fuck you harder baby?”
You nod, scraping your nails down his shoulders.
“Say it angel. Tell me what you want.”
He needed to hear it, he needed to hear the dirty words leave your mouth. He had to hear and see the vision of you he’s been so desperate to have. 
Your wide teary eyes stare up at him, the silver cross necklace bouncing on your bare chest with every harsh thrust he gives only adds to the sinful sight.
“Fuck me..please fuck me, Heeseung.”
The sight and sound was better than anything he could have ever imagined.
He plunged into you without any restraint, no more holding back. You were like his very own fuckdoll now, your body was at his mercy. His fingers kept rubbing your clit, The noises escaping him were feral. He was lost to his own pleasure.
His thrusts grew even more ferocious as he hammered into you relentlessly. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look down where he was entering you. 
“Do you see that angel? You’re all mine now,” he growled.
You clenched your jaw as you looked at the sight of his cock entering you at a fast pace. His entire pelvis was coated with your arousal, you could see a small hint of your blood along his cock.
He noticed it too, it only made him want to fuck your harder.
“Say it, say you’re mine,”
"I-I'm y-yours!"
You hugged him with your legs, clinging to his shoulders as you came again. Your walls squeeze him tight as you released yourself on his cock. "I’m going to cum, angel,” He mumbled against your open mouth. He threw his head back and you felt the spurts of warmth bloom within you. He let his head hang back for a moment before he looked at you and slowly pushed your body back down onto the altar. He stayed inside of you, looking down at your fucked out body. His hand glided over your trembling thighs. Leaning down on top of you he kisses along your collarbone as you continue to shake from your orgasm.
You both stayed in each other's arms panting for a few more minutes, his lips leaving soft kisses along your sweaty skin. He hears you sniffle and pulls away. Your face is tilted back as you stare at the large cross above the both of you as silent tears stream down your face. He only smirks, he won. 
Your arms are still wrapped around him, he takes your left arm and removes it from him, breaking you out of your trance. Gently grabbing your wrist he brings your hand to his mouth and slips your ring finger into his mouth and uses his tongue to aid him in removing the silver purity ring. He holds the once sacred jewelry between his teeth with a cocky grin and spits it out. You cringe hearing the metal clink and bounce off of the marble altar down to the wooden floor.
“You definitely can’t wear that anymore, angel.”  He rubs his large hands over your thighs and up to your stomach. “You don’t belong to God anymore.” He pulls out of you and smiles watching the creamy mess leak out of you and fall onto the sacred altar. You whine loudly when he dips a finger into your sore hole, he scoops a small amount of both of your releases and taps your lips. You open obediently and let him slip the mixture into your mouth. “You belong to me now.”
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ੈ✩‧₊˚Yeah, this was def supposed to be more plot than porn but uhhh yeah that didn't really happen....oops. I have a perm taglist and my WIP is updated, let me know if you want to join 🫶🏼ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mrsbarnesblog · 1 month
Text
i need help
summary: Rafe has a breakdown and he finally asks for help
word count: 1.4k
warnings: angsty and fluffy?, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ward is the worst father (this is ward’s hate space btw💋)
a/n: I just want to baby him. so yeah, soft/clingy Rafe again because apparently, I can’t write anything else right now🙂
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You were sitting on Rafe’s bed, patiently listening to his firm footsteps on the staircase. The room was dimly lit only by a lamp from the nightstand and you fought back an urge to fall on your back and fall asleep with your face in his pillow. 
Yet the harsh and cold voice made your head clear of your thoughts and you finally noticed your best friend walking into his own room. 
“What are you doing here?” Rafe grumbled at you as soon as he slammed the door, turned the lock and turned around, only to see you sitting on his bed.
“What?” His bloodshot eyes were burning holes into you and you innocently blinked at him, not understanding why he was acting so weird.
“I said, what–”
“Don’t yell at me.” You interrupted him calmly. “We wanted to hang out; it’s been a few days since it was just the two of us. You never complain when I come here.”
“Ye-yeah, fuck…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You watched how Rafe started pacing around the room, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He was almost shaking, his hair looking like a mess, and you would’ve thought that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m not in the mood right now, okay? We’ll do it another time. Can you leave now? I– I need to be alone.”
“No, Rafe, I’m not leaving. What happened?” Your brows furrowed, concern and nerves bubbling inside of your body as you watched how your friend and the guy you had a crush on was slowly breaking down. 
“Nothing. Nothing happened, Y/N.” He mumbled, still not staying in one place. “Just go.”
“I told you no.” 
 “Why can’t you listen to what I’m fucking telling you?!” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you as if he were trying to scare you away. Yet you remained still in your place, not even flinching. Your brows shot up in silent question,  eyes were glued to his face, and especially to the way his own eyes became more glassy and watery with every second. “Fuck, fuck—I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to yell at you.” 
“Then don’t. You know I hate it when you’re doing it, Rafe.” You continued calmly. “Sit here and tell me what happened. I see that something’s wrong. It’s been that way for a long time, right? You’re acting differently… C’mere.” You patted the bed near you, giving Rafe a reassuring smile. 
“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” Sitting near you on the bed and holding his head in his hands, Rafe spoke so quietly that you could barely hear him. “I’m going insane. I have issues and nobody hears me.” You slowly, as if you were touching a wounded animal, put your hand on his back, slowly moving it up and down. 
“Tell me. I’m here and I hear you. Please tell me what’s going on.” You tried to sound as soft as you could, moving a little bit closer. “You know you can trust me.”
“There’s something wrong with me. I— I have thoughts in my head that I don’t like. They’re bad. They’re wrong. I don’t want to be violent or feel these things inside of me but I c-can’t stop. They’re stronger than I am and sometimes they’re messing with my head.” Rafe’s voice cracked at the end and you felt the violent beating of your heart in your chest. He sniffed a few times, desperately trying to be strong in front of you and to hide the disgusting things that were eating him up alive. 
“Are they dangerous to others or to you?” 
“Both.”
You slowly nodded, processing the information and trying not to show the way it actually freaked you out. Did you know that Rafe struggled with anger and was not everyone's favorite person? Well, yes. He was nothing but sweet to you, though. You saw that he was a nice person, with a good heart. The only thing that he wanted in return was to feel needed, important, and loved. 
And you always gave it to him. 
But realizing that there were problems so much deeper and that he was now screaming for help because he could not live like that anymore made you wonder how you could be so stupid to not notice the signs earlier.
“Did you talk to your dad about it? Maybe anyone else? Or is it just me? ” You finally reached Rafe's face with your hand, turning him in your direction. You’ve never seen him even shed a tear, not to mention the state that he was in right now and it was shocking how much it hurt you too. The look in his pretty eyes was so desperate and so hurtful that you felt sick.
“He told me to man up. Cool, right? Can’t even do shit without disappointing him. I–I said that I have problems, but he just ignored it. He told me to rest and that it'd be okay.” He smiled at you, even though tears were still freely streaming down his face. “I just thought that maybe once he would hear me. See me. Not Sarah. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He shook his head and looked down. “So it’s only you. Nobody really cares about me anyway, so...”
“Oh, Rafe… Come here.” He wasn’t resisting when you dragged him closer to you by his arm. No, instead, he wrapped his arms around you as if his life were depending on it. You hugged Rafe back, slowly lowering both of you on the bed, until he was lying almost on top of you with his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers slowly brushing through his hair.
What you noticed is that Rafe was always cautious with physical contact. Sometimes it seemed like he tried to be closer to you, sit near you, or casually play with your hands or hair, but the next day he was completely dispant and hesitant. 
It was obvious that now Rafe lowered his guards; he let you see the damaged parts of him and he craved your touch because it was the only thing that could ground him. 
“I need help. I’m tired of this shit in my head, and I don’t want to continue ruining my life with alcohol and drugs…but it just calms everything down for some time and I don’t know how to come out of this circle.” Rafe sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around you even more, until you were closer than you'd ever been before. Your own eyes were filled with tears, but you refused to show them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a disappointment. P-please don’t walk away.” 
You knew about Rafe’s lifestyle, but despite your words, he always made it seem like not a big deal, like something fun that he does at parties. Though now it was obvious that the facade that he had built was slowly falling down and drowning him in it too. 
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rafe. It’s not your fault. But you do need help, darling.” You whispered, pet name rolling from your tongue faster than you could’ve processed it. “It’s important that you understand it. And I’m not leaving. It’s the last thing that should be in your head.”
“I do. I want to get clean. I want to be normal. I just don’t know how.” 
“That’s okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Your dad may not hear you, but I do and I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? Now you need to rest a little bit.” You reached the end of the bed, dragging a duvet and covering both of you with it. Rafe didn't move an inch from your warmth.
“You promise?”
“I promise, Rafe. You mean a lot to me; you know that, right? More than you think.” You whispered, soothingly brushing his blond hair again.
“You mean a lot to me too. More than you think.”    
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incognit0slut · 1 month
Note
Just honestly anything with husband/dad!reid
(Fluff, Sexual innuendo) Dad!Spencer x Mom!Reader. 1.1k
You’re flabbergasted at how much your son resembles your husband.
-
The resemblance was uncanny. You'd like to think that after nine months of carrying your child, he would at least look a little something like you. Sure, there were your eyes, and Spencer never failed to mention his adorable nose resembled yours. Yet beyond those traits, he was undeniably your husband's little doppelganger.
You watched in awe as they nestled together on the couch, engrossed in one of Spencer’s documentaries. Though you knew you’d seen it before, your attention wasn’t fixated on the TV screen, but on the sight before you.
How could they look so much alike?
It wasn’t just the matching mop of curly brown hair or the glasses resting on their noses; it was their shared mannerisms that truly struck you. From the focused furrow of their brows to the way they leaned in attentively, it was as if Oliver was a miniature version of his father.
You saw Spencer leaning forward, gesturing toward the screen. "See, magnets have north and south poles, and opposite poles attract each other while like poles repel. It's all about the magnetic field they create."
"Opposites attract?"
"Opposite poles, like north and south, pull towards each other," Spencer explained, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "While poles that are the same, like two norths or two souths, push away. It's all because of the magnetic field they generate."
Oliver nodded eagerly, taking in the information. "So, it's like they're drawn to each other because they're different?"
"Exactly," Spencer agreed, giving Oliver a proud smile. "Just like how sometimes, people with different personalities or interests can be drawn to each other because they complement each other."
"Like you and mom?"
Your husband smiled. "What makes you say that?"
Oliver shrugged. "Well, you like books and learning things, and Mom loves art and cooking. You're different, but you're together."
Spencer chuckled. "You know, you're absolutely right. Your mom and I might be different, but we complement each other very well."
"Are you guys talking about me?"
The two of them whipped their heads as they saw you enter the room.
"Mom!" Oliver cheered, jumping off the couch to tackle you with a hug, wrapping his small arms around your legs. You laughed as his embrace nearly knocked you off balance, returning his hug with warmth.
“Hey there, buddy.”
"You’re back,” Spencer greeted from the couch. "How was girls day out?"
"Amazing, Aunt Penelope took me to the spa," you replied. "It was so relaxing, very therapeutic... until I realized how much I missed you both."
Spencer's smile widened at your words. "We missed you too.”
“What’s therapeutic?”
Spencer turned to Oliver, his smile growing as he considered how to explain. “Well, therapeutic is when something makes you feel calm and relaxed, like the spa did for Mom.”
Oliver nodded, absorbing his words with interest. “So, like when I play with my Legos and it makes me feel happy?”
You grinned, ruffling Oliver’s hair affectionately. “That’s right, doing things you enjoy can be very therapeutic for your mind and body.”
Your son, who was still clinging to your legs, looked up with bright eyes. "Can we have a movie night now that you’re back? I think it can be therapeutic.”
You chuckled at Oliver’s suggestion, feeling a surge of affection for his sweet innocence.
“A cozy movie night with my two favorite guys? Now that’s what I call therapeutic,” you replied, giving his head another gentle ruffle. “But first, why don't you put these in the kitchen?"
His eyes widened with curiosity as he peered at the plastic bag in your hand. "What's in there?"
You grinned, holding up the bag for him to see. "Some snacks Aunt Penelope packed for us. Why don't you take them to the kitchen while Dad and I set up the movie?"
Oliver's face lit up with excitement as he eagerly took the bag from you. "Sure thing, Mom!" he exclaimed before dashing off to the kitchen.
Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "His enthusiasm is contagious."
You nodded in agreement as you walked over to him. "I wonder where he got that from."
Spencer grinned playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist as you joined him on the couch. "Hmm, I wonder."
"That boy resembles you more each day."
Spencer’s grin widened at your observation, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. “I suppose he’s taking after his old man.”
“He definitely has your enthusiasm and curiosity,” you remarked, your gaze drifting fondly toward Oliver as he bustled about in the kitchen.
“And your appetite for food, it seems,” he added, nodding towards the snacks Oliver had eagerly pulled out from the bag.
You laughed, the warmth of his embrace filling you with a sense of contentment. “He’s got good taste,” you quipped, leaning in for a kiss. "Ask me what else I did today."
"What else did you do today?" Spencer asked with a playful grin, his arm still around your waist as he pulled you closer before pressing his lips on yours in a sweet, innocent kiss.
You smiled against his lips, savoring the tender moment before pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. "Well," you began, your voice soft, "I booked a wax appointment."
His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of mild surprise. "Oh?"
"Yep, do you wanna see it later?" Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly and you chuckled. All these years of marriage and he still managed to get flustered whenever you tease him. “Aw, look at you blushing.”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”
“It’s adorable,” you teased, giving his cheek a playful pinch before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his nose.
He sighed dramatically, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his mock annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You grinned, feeling a rush of affection for your husband. “And you’re lucky you married me,” you retorted. “So, what do you say to a nice, warm bubble bath and one of my awesome massages with a happy ending?”
“You know I can’t say no to that.” His gaze then fell to the length of your body. “Do I get a preview now?”
Your head fell back as you laughed. “Spencer Reid, your kid is in the next room.”
“Our kid,” he corrected gently.
"Dad!" Your son's voice suddenly echoed through the house. "I can't reach the plates!"
Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly as he realized your son was within earshot, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.
“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, his gaze flickering to you with a sheepish smile.
You shared a knowing look with him before turning your attention to Oliver. “I’ll help you out, sweetie,” you called back, already moving towards the kitchen.
Spencer followed close behind, his arm wrapping around your waist. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”
You shook your head in amusement. Parenthood certainly had a way of interrupting even the most romantic of moments, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
A/n: i’m sorry this is bad i wrote this half-conscious (i’m sick)
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kookslastbutton · 2 months
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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)
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✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.
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Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader
AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6.7k+
Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content
sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together
Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie
a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰
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“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”
With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.
Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.
It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?
Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.
“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”
“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.
“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."
“Oh, well that’s very–“
“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.
“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”
Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.
“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.
Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”
As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”
“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.
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“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”
With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.
“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”
The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.
“What did you say your last name is?”
You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.
“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.
“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.
“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”
Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.
“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”
“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”
“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.
There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.
Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?
“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.
“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”
“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”
“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.
“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.
“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”
Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?
This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.
“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.
“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."
Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.
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For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.
Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.
Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.
“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”
What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”
“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.
You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.
“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.
“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."
With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.
"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"
You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.
"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."
"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.
"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"
"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.
"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."
Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."
"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.
"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"
You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"
"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."
The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.
"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."
That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.
"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.
"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."
"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”
"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."
Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."
Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.
"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.
"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.
"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.
"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.
"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"
Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.
"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.
"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"
"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."
"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"
"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."
"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"
Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."
Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"
"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"
"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."
It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.
"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."
"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.
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"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.
"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.
The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.
Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.
"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"
Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"
"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"
"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."
You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.
"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"
"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"
"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.
"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.
"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."
"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.
"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."
"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.
"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.
"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.
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Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.
What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.
You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.
"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.
"'m, I love you too."
Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.
"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.
"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."
He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"
You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.
"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."
You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.
"Yoon?"
"Mm."
"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.
"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.
"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.
"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.
You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.
"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."
Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.
"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."
His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.
"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."
Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.
"But...you haven't seen me–"
"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."
"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."
Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.
"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.
Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.
"Can I?"
You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.
With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.
"Fuck," you swear.
"Feeling good?"
All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.
"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.
"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"
He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.
Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.
"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."
"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"
Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.
Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.
You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.
"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.
"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."
Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"
"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.
"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.
"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.
"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.
"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."
"Really? You're not just teasing me?"
Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.
"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.
Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.
"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.
Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.
"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."
Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.
"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."
"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"
Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.
"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"
"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."
"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.
"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.
This is what love feels like.
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a/n: LMK what you think 🥰
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xxxdreamscapexxx · 9 months
Text
Sweet trouble
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Pairing: Step!Mother Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Word count: 12.7k
Summary: Being left home alone is the perfect time to catch up on all your secret activities. What you don't expect is that your Step Mother has secrets of her own, or that you'll stumble on them accidentally. What will happen when she finds out you've been going through her things?
Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, Stepcest?, masturbation, edging, teasing, oral, fingering, finger sucking, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader
Masterlist with all my works.
When you woke up this morning, you never, in your wildest dreams imagined that one of your most secret, most shameful desires will come true. It was something you had only seen in fanfiction and maybe twisted porn, but never believed real people did, or that it could in fact, happen to you. Truthfully, if someone had told you such a thing will happen, you would have scoffed and called them crazy.
But you were getting ahead of yourself. Your morning started the way it often did during the summer. You got up and walked down the stairs, to find Wanda sipping her coffee and scrolling through her phone. As usual, she put it away as soon as she saw you and she greeted you warmly.
Wanda Maximoff was your stepmother. She had married your father a little over 4 years ago, but you had known her for almost 5 and despite having a rocky start with the woman, you actually had a great relationship with her. She was warm and sweet and she never treated you like a child, nor did she try to “replace” your actual mother, who did her best to stay in your life. In fact, Wanda treated you with respect and kindness and you soon saw her as a friend.
Well… That wasn’t entirely true. You started seeing her as a friend at first, but over the years that connection shifted. She talked to you about the things your parents never wanted to, she always listened without prejudice or judgement and gave amazing advice. She also cared about your interests and she supported all your hobbies and little projects and she even often helped you.
Wanda was there when you decided to make a replica of the “T.A.R.D.I.S” from “Doctor Who” and spent an entire weekend helping you build it, so it would end up perfect, she watched every scary movie you asked for, because you could never bring yourself to do it on your own, and even though you were both scared, she always pretended not to be. For your sake. And then, when you were too scared to sleep alone, she pretended to fall asleep on the couch and let you snuggle into her, even if her back hurt the next day. She encouraged your writing, she read every book you ranted about… She supported you when you came out. For all those things and so much more, you gave Wanda your love.
Unfortunately for you, those were also the reasons why at some point, you stopped seeing Wanda as a friend and started seeing her as the woman of your dreams. Yes, cheesy. But true. And that idea gnawed at you ever since you stopped trying to lie to yourself.
The truth is, you spent way more time with Wanda than your father ever did. He was good, a good man and a good father, but his work often had him travelling for long. When you were young, he often took the whole family with him. Had private tutors for you, made sure you were educated by the best and brightest and the love of learning connected you together. But as you grew older, that life drove your mother away. To make the matters worse, he realized you needed stability just around the same time he met Wanda and soon, you were left in the big house, surrounded by housekeeping and your new stepmother, while he was away for months at a time. But at least he let you attend high school, instead of hiring more tutors, so you wouldn’t feel so alone.
You often wondered why Wanda chose to be with him when you, his daughter, knew more about her, spent more time with her and, you were sure, loved her far more than he did. But you never dared to ask and she never spoke of that, preferring to focus on you instead and you reciprocated that interest. You watched her favourite sitcoms with her, spent afternoons making pottery with her, which resulted in way too many crooked ceramic mugs in your home that you never knew what to do with, but loved too much to throw away. You taught her calligraphy, after you showed her your first story and she declared that you have the “prettiest handwriting” and asked you to teach her. In turn, she gave you cooking lessons, because her food was by far, the best thing you had tasted, until it became a tradition that you made dinner together.
God, you shared so much of your life, so much of yourself with the woman, you gave so much of yourself to her, that it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that you ended up falling for her. And her way with you didn’t help matters either. And yes, it wasn’t something outrageous. It was little things, like the way she’d hold you, pulling you closer into her side during movie nights, which by the way were almost every night. It was the way she sat with you on the couch in the study, reading her book while you did homework, mindlessly playing with your hair, it was her protective on the small of your back, when you felt surrounded by people, the way she always knew when you needed her to step in and save you from strangers, or the soft way she held your hand when you went somewhere together…
It was never one thing. It was a million little things and each one had you falling more and more deeply in love with her, until you couldn’t deny it anymore. You realized it during your junior year, when all your friends wouldn’t shut up about boys and their crushes and all you would think about was Wanda. What plans you had with her, what you’d watch with her, what meal you’ll be making together, where you’d go over the weekend… It was all Wanda. Even in your dreams. And to make matters worse, those dreams soon manifested into your waking hours, flooding your thoughts with nothing but her.
Now, the beginning of summer after senior year, when you had decided to take a gap year before college and focus on yourself, your writing, perhaps even travelling, you were fully aware that you wanted none of those things without her. You hadn’t booked a single destination, because you hadn’t yet the courage to ask if she’d join you. You had stopped showing her your stories, because they were all about her and despite your best efforts had turned highly suggestive and then straight up erotic, up to the point that they no longer soothed you, when you thought of Wanda, but rather left you even more turned on and needy.
The neediness, unfortunately for you, had been another new development. No matter how many cold showers you took, how many times you masturbated to thoughts of her, the ache between your legs never quite went away. Actually, every time you’d see her, every night when she cuddled you and played you a movie, every evening when you helped her make dinner, each hot afternoon spent at the pool with her, left you a horny mess.
Today, after you helped Wanda make breakfast, that the two of you shared, she asked you if you’d like to go out with her. She had some errands to do and she promised to make it fun, despite the tediousness, offering you lunch at your favourite restaurant, or perhaps a small shopping trip in the afternoon, but you declined, opting to stay home instead.
To be fair, you wanted to go with her, you wanted to spend every second you could with her, but being left home alone meant that you could perhaps catch up on your writing without her seeing you and asking to read your story, or finally take care of the ache between your legs that lately never went away, but you were never alone for… Maybe even do it, the way you so often longed for, but never could… God, you were a twisted girl. But you couldn’t help it. You just wanted her so much.
Wanda seemed a little bit surprised and frankly disappointed by your refusal, but she took a deep breath and she wished you a nice day, before she took her purse and her car keys, phone tucked in the back pocket of her tightly fitted jeans and she left, putting on her stylish sunglass, before opening the front door and disappearing from your view.
As soon as she was gone, you rushed to the study, reaching out behind a cluster of old, dusty books and taking out the Paperblanks hardcover journal dedicated to Edgar Allan Poe that she got you as a gift. It was beautiful and stylish and filled with all the stories you wrote about her.
As soon as the notebook fell open, you saw the last page you had written on and your fingers traced the last paragraph, reading through it. “You don’t hesitate when your fingers lace with my hair, your grip firm as you hold me in place and you study my face. My mouth open, my tongue sticking out as it awaits your dripping pussy...” Yes, you remember that and your legs instantly cross over each-other at the wave of arousal, but you keep it at bay.
For the next few hours all you do is write. Your fantasies running rampant and free and filling the pages. It was almost a trans-like state, your hand moving almost on its own while the images in your head played out in front of your eyes. It felt freeing to be able to “share” your thoughts somehow, even if no one ever saw them and you only reluctantly stopped, when your stomach growled for food and your hand was cramping.
You made your way to the kitchen, groaning, your writing session had left you wet and so needy, that despite your instincts and Wanda’s voice in your head, telling you to eat something heathy and filling, you pulled out a fruit yogurt with mango and maracuja and ate it, leaning on the counter, wanting to stretch your legs a little.
Finished with your “meal”, you headed upstairs, making your way to the bedrooms. Yours was at the end of the hall and you headed for it, but stopped mid-way, when you saw Wanda’s bedroom door was slightly ajar and you stopped right in front of it, debating with yourself. You knew you shouldn’t go in, that it was an invasion of her privacy, but your heart was so full of longing for her that you eventually reasoned, that you’ll only look around… Just get her scent in your nostrils and leave.
As soon as you walked in, your eyes started to search the unfamiliar space. It’s not that you’ve never been here, but the room was so alien to you, one you’d spent the least time in, that it almost didn’t feel right. You certainly never dared be so inquisitive, when Wanda was there with you.
Your eyes scanned every object, every photo, most of which were of you and Wanda and you allowed yourself to breathe in the aroma of everything Wanda. It smelled like clean sheets and her favourite vanilla and Himalayan magnolia air freshener, like her perfume and just something uniquely her. God, you’d roll around in it if you could.
Everything seemed so perfectly in order, her bed made and without a single crinkle in it, the room so pristine and clean. It was lovely, and your heart skipped a beat at the thought that you wished you could wake up here, next to her each morning.
Walking further into the room, your curiosity almost entirely satisfied now, you ran your fingers over the objects she had on display. Souvenirs from trips the two of you had went to, her certificate for completing a “beginners” course in Latin dances, that she only went to for you and that you had stopped attending, because you hated how every man in the studio drooled over her, the ceramic figurine of a cute bear that you made her one time, a bowl of sea shells that the two of you had collected last summer at the beach…
You were just about ready to leave, when the sight of a drawer, half-open and because of that seeming out of place, caught your attention. Everything was so perfectly in order in this room, that it looked so strange to see it left like this and you went to it thoughtlessly, pulling it open to inspect its content, only to gasp in surprise at what you found there.
It was full of toys. Sex toys, to be exact and you couldn’t help but stumble backwards a little at seeing just how many there were. Dildos in all colours, shapes and sizes and made from different materials were organized, each in its individual place. Handcuffs, soft Velcro cuffs and steal, regular ones easily distinguished. Ropes, blindfolds, some butt plugs, vibrators, lube, a couple of harnesses and even other things that you couldn’t name or guess the intended use of, could be seen laid out and you studied them with deep curiosity.
Did Wanda use all these? Did she lay here, in her big, soft bed and play with herself at night? What did she think about? Who did she picture in her fantasies, when she buried one of these toys inside herself? Did she do it slowly, or did she like it rough? How did it feel to be stretched out and full?
As your mind was flooded with questions, you mindlessly got closer, your hand reaching into the drawer and your fingertips grazing a rather large, realistic looking dildo. You’d never actually seen toys in real life, so the sensation was both strange and exhilarating. Sure, you were 19 now and could buy them if you wanted to, but the thought just never appealed to you.
You just couldn’t picture it. You’d never had anything other than two of your fingers inside yourself and it had already felt too much. You couldn’t even imagine what something so big would feel like or would do to you. Did Wanda enjoy the feeling of them? Did she ever wear her harness and bury one of these inside someone or did she like to be on the receiving end? You certainly liked to imagine yourself on the receiving end of one of her toys, especially after you learned of her past with women. She had shared those details when you came out to her, hoping to soothe you and help you feel like you’re not alone, but you never imagined that you’ll one day walk into your stepmother’s bedroom and find so many toys, or that you’ll find yourself wishing you could see her play with them… God, the one you reached for looked so big, so thick in your hand. That could never fit inside you.
Yet the thought of Wanda stepping into her harness and picking out a dildo from her collection, while you waited for her in the bed, spread out and so needy for her, had your legs squeezing together in search for relief. Would she tie you down? Would she be sweet and soft? Would she use her fingers and her mouth? What would it feel like to have your arms wrapped around her, to be able to kiss her, as she had her way with you?
Fuck, you needed relief. And you needed it now. And you knew you should just go to your room and do what you always did, but this time you couldn’t. You couldn’t just close your eyes and picture Wanda, when here, in her room, all your senses were surrounded by her.
You hesitated for a moment, considering the danger, but it was still early and all the staff had the next few weeks off, so you knew you’ll be all alone. You could just… Lie down. Not even under the covers, just on top of her sheets and maybe pull your panties to the side. They were all wet already. You’ll just pull your dress up and take care of that ache and then you’ll fix Wanda’s bed and leave.
You knew it was a bad idea, but in your brain, clouded by lust, you couldn’t help yourself and gave in. So you did exactly as you planned, the skirts of your dress bunched up around your waist, your panties pulled to the side, while your fingers circled your clit. You lay on your stomach, you face buried in Wanda’s pillow and inhaling her scent as your mind filled with images of her. It was wonderful. God, it was heavenly. But it wasn’t enough. Before you knew it, you had made yourself orgasm twice already, but the desperate feeling never went away. You needed more.
You slowly turned, laying on your back, your hand finding its way back to your clit, but it was only a measure to keep you calm while you thought. What could you do? And almost like fate, your face turned to the open drawer full of toys and an idea sparked inside you. You could… No, that was an extremely bad idea. It was wrong… But maybe, it could help?
Getting up, telling yourself you’ll only take a quick look, you made your way back to the drawer and looked inside. You had no idea how to choose, so you trusted your instincts, picking a fairly small, pink dildo that seemed to look cute and entirely forgetting what a terrible idea this was, you made your way back to Wanda’s bed with giddiness, lying on your back and looking the toy over for a moment, before reaching down.
You rubbed the toy’s head against your opening, getting it slick with your juices and teasing your clit a little, before you started to slowly push it inside. The stretch felt unfamiliar, the toy, despite being small, still being larger than your fingers and you took your time to let it sink in deeper, allowing your pussy some time to adjust to it.
In just a few minutes, you had it fully inside you, the base pressing against your opening and oh, it was perfect. It was exactly what you needed and you quickly reached down with your free hand, finding your clit and adding the extra stimulation. Thoughts of Wanda quickly made their way into your head and you started to imagine the older woman doing exactly what you did to yourself, her hands working you perfectly, while her velvety voice wrapped around you and made you lose yourself entirely.
Taking your time to let it unfold, your body buzzing with excitement and pleasure, your muscles tightening, you knew you were about to have one of the best orgasms of your life, when suddenly, you heard the front door open and shortly after shut itself.
Fuck!
Sitting up, you heard Wanda’s keys land in the bowl with yours and your nervous anxiety hit a new high, when she called out your name form the living room.
Fuck!
She’d start looking for you soon, if you didn’t act quickly! God, what do you do? You needed to get out of there!
Your eyes roamed around the room nervously, toy still buried inside you and you knew you couldn’t put it back like that, covered in your slick! She’ll see it eventually and then she’ll know what you did. In the rush of the moment, you did the only thing you thought would be smart. You put your panties back where they belonged, seeing the imprint of the dildo against them and you got out of her bed. You tried to smoothen it as much as you could, but you herd her voice call out your name again, this time from the kitchen and you knew she’ll come up the stairs next. In a rush, you just closed her drawer and practically ran out, leaving the door slightly ajar as it was and you hesitated if you should go to your room, but before you could make your way there, you heard Wanda’s steps as she ascended the stairs and you knew there will be no time.
Closing your eyes for a moment, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress and feeling the fullness as you tried to calm your nerves, you committed to the decision you knew you had to make and despite every instinct of yours, you rushed towards her, meeting her just as she was at the top of the stairs.
“Ah, Y/N, there you are! I was calling you.” She smiled as she saw you, reaching out to give you a hug.
“Yeah, I heard you, I was just coming to meet you.” You manage to say, forcing a smile.
“Are you all right, honey?” The older woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “You look a little flushed.” She said with concern, one of her hands reaching out to feel your forehead. “And you feel warm too.” She determined, her eyes scanning you.
“Yeah, I’m all good.” You tried to reassure her, still practically blocking the older woman’s path.
“You sure?” Wanda asked once more, concern evident in her eyes and you tried to calm your nerves.
“I promise.” You tried to say with conviction and hoping your knees wouldn’t buckle.
“Ok, honey, but if you feel unwell, you’ll tell me, right?”
“Of course.” You smiled warmly and, seeing that the woman seemed to be going to her room, the place where you had just been, you tried to dissuade her. “Hey, I was wondering, could we have pasta for dinner today? The one with the special sauce you make?”
“Sure, honey.” Wanda beamed, her hand stroking your cheek softly before she moved past you. “Let me go get changed and we’ll go make it together.” She suggested.
Not wanting to seem weird, you let the woman pass and after watching her enter her bedroom, you actually relaxed a little, thinking that you could use this time to go back to your own room and pull out the dildo still nestled inside you, when her voice forced you to stiffen once more.
“Hey, honey, why don’t you go and take out the vegetables from the fridge and start washing them? I’ll be right down.” Wanda called out, interrupting your train of thought and destroying any chance you had of going through with disposing of the cursed toy.
“Ok.” You called out, facing the stairs defeatedly.
In your guilt over what you did, you felt like you couldn’t risk saying “no” and going to your room instead, not wanting to rouse Wanda’s suspicion. So, a little wobbly on your legs and feeling even more aroused than when you first went in her bedroom, you walked down the stairs, doing exactly as she asked, planning how to excuse yourself later and pull the damned thing out of you.
Wanda walked into her bedroom and started to unbutton her shirt, asking you to start dinner as she went, but suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing. It wasn’t that there was something particularly wrong, it’s just that something felt out of place and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Shrugging, she tossed her shirt on an empty chair and started to take off her jeans next, leaving herself in just her underwear and going to the closet to pick out more comfy clothes. She put on a pair of black sweats and took out a dark red top that she knew you loved and put it over her head, turning to leave, when her eyes narrowed again.
Her bed was all wrinkled and the covers were looking lumpy and it bothered her somehow. Did she leave it like this today? She leaned down and started to fix it, her hands smoothing the covers and tucking them in as she always did, when her palm ran over a damp spot. Now this really caught her attention and she inspected it more closely.
It looked like a small wet spot, more visible now that she knew to look for it and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Had you been here? But why would you be on her bed? That didn’t make sense, until a realization came over her, like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Your flushed face, the way you tried to block her path, how out of breath you seemed and this… The state of her bed… She suddenly straightened, rushing to her drawer.
As soon as she opened it, she knew what you had done. She knew her collection very well, knew exactly what she owned and where it was, so the absent pink dildo was like a glaring hole in the middle of her drawer. But why hadn’t you put it back? Had she gotten home and interrupted you? That seemed more and more likely and at the thought, she could only sigh.
Wanda was a lot of things, but stupid just wasn’t one of them. She realized you had a crush on her somewhere around the end of your junior year and at first the thought scared her. Sure, she had noticed you turning into a beautiful young woman, she wasn’t blind, and you had already shared with her that you were gay, but she never imagined you’d develop feelings towards her. Naturally, she thought it was simple curiosity. You were growing, it was normal. It would probably go away on its own. You were surrounded by girls your own age, with young bodies and unburdened by life, so she believed you’d soon move on.
But as time passed those lingering looks you gave her started to be accompanied by something else. A kind of longing in your eyes, a kind of shy almost hope that she couldn’t quite place. Until eventually she did. Wanda knew you better than anyone in the world, she knew what made you tick and as she watched your gaze follow her, while she sipped wine, your eyes fixed on her lips and your legs squeezing together, she realized that your relationship with her had changed. You saw her differently.
That thought scared Wanda more than she ever expected and she excused herself quickly, practically running to her bedroom and burying her face in her pillow and her first thoughts were for you. She felt terrible, imagining how scared you must be, how sad and disheartened to be infatuated with your father’s wife. She kept thinking about how alone you must feel, not being able to tell anyone. How heart wrenching it must be to spend every day with her and know she was with another.
In her eyes you were her girl and she held so much love for you that the knowledge that she caused such feelings inside you, that she caused you so much pain, was devastating to her. After realizing what really bothered you, she spent so many sleepless nights, thinking of you. And in her love, she thought the best thing for you would be to pull away from you.
Yes, she didn’t love your father anymore… If ever. He was hardly ever home, hardly ever spending any time with her, always promising to retire, but never doing so… The only reason she stayed all this time was always you. She married him because she wanted a family, never expecting that she’ll find that in you. And when she had… Well… That made her choice very easy. But you were such a young girl. An old soul, admittedly, but still so young. She couldn’t let you spend those sweet years pining over your stepmother. So pull away she did.
Little did she know how devasted you’d be, feeling her absence as a hole in your heart and crying so many nights, when you thought that she no longer wanted your presence. She watched your heartbreak from afar, hating herself for it, yet thinking it would be for the best, until one night, when she heard you speak to one of your friends on the phone.
Your broken voice almost made her cry then and there and she vowed to never do that to you again. So she made sure that things went back to normal, to the routine the two of you had, but she never quite stopped noticing how the love in you bloomed.
The summer vacation after your junior year she spent entirely with you, having a grand time going to the beach, sunbathing, while you read books and drank cocktails together. Yours virgin, of course. But she’d let you have a sip from hers every once in a while, to indulge your curiosity. She’d rather let you drink with her and make sure you’re safe.
Then came your 18th birthday and the party you hosted at the house, you and your friends having fun around the pool and she thought that with all these people around you, you’d lose interest, but you never did. After everyone was gone, all you wanted was to cuddle up to her on the couch and watch your favourite movie with her. You always preferred her to anyone else, chose to stay home and try new recipes, rather than go out and she thought that perhaps this thing you felt for her was serious.
And once that knowledge settled inside her, it no longer bothered her. And with acceptance came something else. Something she never thought she had in her. A kind of curiosity of her own.
Obviously, she was flattered to know you had such feelings for her. You were a young, sweet thing, your life was just starting and she… How could she take advantage of you?
Then again, you didn’t make it easy for her. The way young girls did, you flirted boldly, openly and in gestures of sudden bravery. You flaunted yourself to her whenever you got the chance. Wearing skimpy bathing suits and even asking her to fix the strings for you, asking her to go shopping with you and dragging her into lingerie stores, showing her different sets and asking her opinion, wearing short dresses and tight shorts whenever she was around, which happened to be all the time… Asking her to watch scary movies with you in your room, cuddling into her in nothing but your panties and a t-shirt and then asking her to stay when you were too scared to stay alone.
Ugh, you were a tease. She’d feel you wiggle unnecessarily, so you’d “settle” and you’d blush furiously anytime she so much as looked at you. She’d wake up with your back pressed against her front, your ass pressed up against her as you slept happily, and every time you’d pull one of those stunts, she’d feel you chip away at her resolve.
You were so soft, so sweet, such a delicate thing, your skin smooth and flawless under her fingertips. Whenever you’d ask her to stay with you, falling asleep on her shoulder, she couldn’t help but stroke the exposed skin of your bare arms, the length of your thighs, just to feel you. It was a small action, was it not? Done out of curiosity. And it soothed her to be able to get this small thing for herself, since she had promised herself not to take you entirely.
Your last year of high school passed like that, with you parading yourself and eventually Wanda broke. She told herself she’d never make a move on you. It was wrong, but she needed an outlet for her frustration. That’s how she first spent a night thinking of you while she touched herself. Not that thoughts of you hadn’t crossed her mind before, but she always pushed them away. But when she no longer could, that one action broke the dam.
The images of you flooded her mind constantly and she found herself seeking relief in the privacy of her bedroom, imagining she had you to play with. She thought of all the gloriously depraved things she could do to you, the things she could teach you and all the ways she could corrupt you. It would be so sweet.
It got worse as your feelings progressed and she’d often wake to the sounds of your moans in the middle of the night. The first time such a thing happened she rushed to your room, thinking maybe you’re in pain, only to see you sprawled on your bed, legs spread wide and your hand moving furiously in your panties. You thought you were being quiet, that you were being subtle, but honestly, she could sometimes make out the way you called her name as you made yourself cum.
Now, looking in her drawer of toys and realizing what you’d done, she tried to let it go, but she just couldn’t. You went behind her back, sneaked into her bedroom, snooped through her things, used her toys and masturbated on her bed. As much as she was impressed by your boldness and surprised to find that your desire for her went that far, she was furious. You didn’t even have the decency to hide it well! Why didn’t you just wash the toy and put it back? Did you still have it? Ugh, she was angry!
She knew you probably didn’t mean for it to go this far, but she just couldn’t help it. How was she meant to stay away from you, to keep her resolve and refrain from marching down and fucking you senseless, when you did such things? She had to teach you a lesson.
Her fingers clenching over the edge of the drawer, knuckles turning white, Wanda was ready to slam it shut and storm down the stairs, when her eyes landed on a pink remote control. It was for the dildo you had used and she was surprised you hadn’t taken that too, before she realized you probably had no idea it had a vibrating function. Or maybe you hadn’t gotten that far. Who knows? Either way, an idea sparked into her head and she decided to test a theory and if she was right, tonight she’ll teach you a lesson and pay you back for every time you’d teased her, every time you paraded yourself in front of her, every time you tempted her and made her crave you.
In the back of her head, she knew what this decision meant. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. If she went through with it, she’d go all the way. Closing her eyes and breathing in, she tried to think clearly, but she had reached the end of her restraint, the end of her self-control. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want this anymore. She had to have you.
Taking the small remote control, she put it in the pocket of her sweats and she walked down the stairs. She found you prepping the vegetables, just as she asked, your cheeks still flushed, but you tried to act as normal as possible. With a smile, Wanda did the same, starting to make the dough for the homemade pasta and starting up a light conversation with you.
“So, honey, what did you do today?” She asked sweetly.
“Oh you know, just normal things…” You trailed off as your legs squeezed together.
“Yeah? Did you finish the new book I told you about?”
“No, not yet. But almost. I’m so excited to see what happens.” You tried to feign interest, but Wanda knew you. You hadn’t read a page. “What about you, did you have a nice day?”
“Nice isn’t how I’d describe it. But I’m glad to be home.” She responded shortly. “You know, sweetie, why don’t you get the sauce started and leave it on the stove, I’ll watch it while I make the dough and you can sit down. You still look a little flushed.” She suggested and you sighed with relief at her offer, doing as she asked, finishing as quickly as possible and making your way to a chair in the kitchen, sitting down and watching her cook, the way you have so many times before.
Except, as soon as you sat, you realized it was a mistake. The dildo, still nicely nestled inside you, was pressed against the surface of the chair and pushed as deeply as it could go, causing you to let out a small whimper at the feeling of being so full and even with her back to you, Wanda knew that her suspicion was right.
“What was that, dear?” She turned to look at you for a moment, your legs squeezing together so tightly your muscles shook.
“N-nothing…” You stuttered out, a hand gripping the edge of the table.
My, you were so responsive. You must have been close, if you were this worked up. How delightful. Wanda was going to have so much fun with you.
Unaware of how closely you were being watched, or of the wicked plan your stepmother had formulated for you, you started to gently rock on the chair, the movement bringing brief relief to the aching between your legs. But Wanda wasn’t going to let you just fuck yourself right in front of her. If anyone was going to fuck you tonight, it was going to be her.
Reaching into her pocket, she felt around for the buttons of the remote control and she turned it on and let it start at the lowest setting. Your reaction was instantaneous. You gasped, trying to do it quietly and softly, but she heard you none the less.
Feeling the dildo start to vibrate had you stiffen on the chair. God, did your slow grinding press the start button on the device? It was possible. Now you felt the gentle hum of the lowest setting and it drove you crazy. Perhaps with some concentration you could ignore feeling the toy inside you, but you couldn’t contain yourself like this. It was nestled at the deepest parts of you and vibrating against an especially sensitive spot and it had you shaking.
“Wanda, I think I’m going to lie down.” You suddenly said, swallowing hard and preparing yourself to stand.
“Oh, sweetheart!” She gasped when she turned to you. You looked a mess and it was absolutely breath-taking. She always wanted to see you like this. Now that she was so close, she wasn’t going to let you slip away so quickly. “What’s wrong? You seem even more flushed. And your forehead is so hot, baby, maybe you should lie down on the couch, so I can take care of you.” She suggested with concern. “I’ll bring you a cool cloth for your forehead and a glass of water.” She suggested, offering you her hand and guiding you to the couch.
“No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just lie down upstairs for a bit.” You tried to protest, following her lead on instinct, despite your wish to escape to your room, but she was having none of it.
“But, sweetie, you can barely walk.” She argued, guiding you to the couch. “Look at that, you’re shaking. Lie down here for me, honey. I’ll take care of you.” She suggested, helping you lie down.
She went to grab you a glass of water, just as she promised and, on her way back, she watched you squirm and try to contain the sensations going through your body. When she made you drink at least some of the water, she left the glass on the table and she went to get you a cool cloth for your forehead, but not before sticking her hand in her pocket and increasing the speed of the vibrator.
A loud moan graced her ears just as she did it and she could hardly contain her smirk as she walked back to you.
“Now, honey, you stay here and rest and I’ll go check on dinner and I’ll be right back, ok?” She explained with a soft voice and she stroked your cheek affectionately, basking in the state you were in.
Your cheeks were burning with a mixture of arousal and shyness, your whole body squirming with need, even your hips bucking, when you thought Wanda wasn’t looking, loving the stimulation, yet needing so much more. Fuck, she could play with you like this for hours. If she had it her way, she’d strip you down first, of course, but there was plenty of time for that later. She’d watch you writhe and make you beg to be allowed to cum, push you to admit what you did and then tease you some more as punishment for it. And once you’ve surrendered, she’d make you cum over and over again, until you can’t take anymore. She’ll take your shaking little body upstairs and help you get cleaned up, so she can cuddle you to sleep. But she was getting ahead of herself.
She went to check on the pasta and the sauce you were making, stirring the pots and making sure that it wouldn’t get burned. She often looked at you at the corner of her eye, watching you writhe and, deciding to take pity on you, she clicked the off button on the remote control in her pocket, seeing you instantly settle in both relief and frustration. It was obvious you wanted more, that you needed that orgasm badly, but you didn’t want to get caught and Wanda smirked to herself. She’ll make you beg for an orgasm soon enough.
In the next minutes she let you rest, while she set up the table and finished dinner, not wanting to overwhelm you too much too early. She came over to you carefully, checking to see if you managed to put yourself together and you indeed looked much better. The frustration from the teasing and edging was obvious, but other than that you were holding up quite well and she smiled.
“Hey, honey, how are you feeling?” She asked softly. “Do you think you can come to the dinner table, so we can eat, or should I bring your food here?” She suggested, smiling.
“I’ll come to the table.” You agreed, removing the damp cloth from your forehead and taking her hands, so you could stand.
“Ok, baby, wash your hands and let’s eat.” She smiled softly at you.
Once you settled, poorly hiding a whimper when the dildo was once again pressed into your depths and against your most sensitive spots, you struggled to find topics for a conversation, but Wanda distracted you, telling you about her day and keeping your mind occupied while you ate. It was still hard to keep your urge to grind down on the toy sometimes, especially when Wanda would look at you with those pretty green eyes and swirl the wine in her glass, before sipping it. How could she be so sensual without even trying?
“Wanda, I think I’ll head upstairs. I feel tired.” You tried to excuse yourself after the meal was finished.
“Oh, really?” She said with disappointment in her voice. “You sure? I was thinking we could watch a movie together.” She suggests, pouting at you cutely and melting your heart.
“I don’t know…” You hesitated, wanting to stay, but feeling your walls contract around the dildo inside you and almost making your legs buckle.
“Maybe for a bit?” She offered with hope in her eyes. “You lie down and pick anything you want to watch and I’ll make us some popcorn. If you’re still not feeling well, I’ll help you upstairs.”
You tried to refuse her, you really did, but the truth was, that you could never say “no” to Wanda Maximoff. She was your greatest weakness and you knew you’d do anything she asks, no matter what, so you settled onto the couch, searching through the movie options and finding one that looked promising, while she brought over the big bowl of popcorn she made, sitting down next to you and pulling you into her side, just as she always did, kissing the top of your head affectionately.
You played the movie, trying to distract yourself and reminding yourself that all you had to do is get through the movie with her and then you’ll go to your room and have all the orgasms you wanted. It was just a couple of hours with Wanda.
But you’d barely gotten through the intro, when the vibrator came to life with a sudden buzz and you had to refrain from grinding against the couch at how good it felt. But that’s all the restraint you could show and you quickly realized Wanda was looking at you with concern.
“What’s the matter, sweetie? Is everything all right?”
You barely nodded, pretending to watch, when all you could do was do your best to stay still in Wanda’s hold. God, how did this thing turn on again? How do you stop it, before you have an orgasm, right there, sitting next to the woman you were desperately in love with? Worse! What if she hears the vibration? Could she hear it right now?
It was driving you crazy and holding back became increasingly difficult as time passed, your breathing going more erratic and just when you thought that it will happen, regardless if you wanted to or not, the vibrations suddenly stopped.
“Did you say something, honey?” Wanda turned to you once more, making you realize that you had whined pretty loudly.
“N-no.” You stutter out, shaking your head and she barely contains the smirk forming on her face, before it gives away just how much she’s enjoying this.
She gives you a break, letting you calm down, before she turns on the vibrator again, startling you and this time you look at her, trying to see if she actually noticed, but Wanda had her attention on the TV.
The damned thing was driving you crazy, but you couldn’t help a thought that crept into your mind. Why does it keep going on and off? Was it you? You were sitting pretty still… And then another, more shocking thought sparkled in your mind. Could Wanda? No, that was absurd. Even if she found out you took it, how would she know you still had it inside you? Would she do this on purpose?
As you turned to her, studying her expression, you couldn’t imagine Wanda doing such a thing. But you had to know for sure. So you waited for that moment when you got close, your body starting to lose some of its control and just as you were about to fall off the edge, the toy stopped, leaving you desperate and needy, extremely frustrated and utterly shocked. Did she just put her hand in her pocket? Did she have the remote there?
You had a million questions almost clouding your brain and you had no idea how to ask, no idea how to approach that subject, scared that if you were wrong, you’ll give yourself away, when Wanda suddenly turned to you.
“I see you finally figured it out.” She said in a low, raspy voice, smiling. She was almost predatory with the way she was looking at you, her soft green eyes now full of intensity. “Don’t you know that taking someone else’s things without permission is wrong?” She asked, raising a brow at you expectantly.
“I… Wanda… It’s not…” You tried to say something coherent, putting a little distance between your bodies, but you were in a state of shock and you couldn’t find the right words to explain.
“Not what it looks like?” She finished the sentence for you, scoffing. “I highly doubt that. Or are you going to deny that you snooped through my bedroom and took something that doesn’t belong to you?” She asked sternly, her eyes fixing you.
“I… ” You tried again, the words never coming out. “I didn’t mean to!” You tried, knowing it was a useless protest.
“Well, what did you mean to do, sweetness, hm? Come on, explain it for me.” She challenged again, raising a brow at you impatiently.
She gave you some time to collect whatever was left of your thoughts and she waited for you to say something coherent, but nothing actually came. There was no excuse, and you knew it well.
“Wanda… Please.” You said quietly, not even sure what you were asking of her, just knowing that you couldn’t stand the way she was looking at you, couldn’t stand how disappointed she was.
“Should I tell you what I think happened, hm?” She asked, her tone having that stern edge again. And before you could answer, she continued. “Or are you going to tell me yourself?” She asked again, holding up the remote control that was previously sitting in her pocket. “Do you need a little incentive?” She asked with a predatory grin, a slender finger hovering over the start button. “Maybe another edge or two would loosen your tongue?” She suggested, almost turning the device on.
“Oh my God, Wanda, please, no! Please! I can’t take anymore!” You begged pitifully and her heart melted a little, knowing you’ve probably never been edged. Even now you had your legs squeezed together, your eyes fixed on the remote she was holding.
To be fair, Wanda never intended to be cruel with you. She only wanted to be kind towards you, but you had pushed her buttons today and it had brought out a side of her she never wanted to show you. And you had never earned such treatment from her either, so she found it hard to contain her emotions, but she took a deep breath and tried to soften her features.
“Please, I���ll never do that again!” You pleaded.
“Oh, I know, sweetheart.” She said with surprising gentleness, stroking your cheek affectionately. “I’ll make sure of that. But you’ll have to tell me why you did it.” She explained.
“I can’t…” You tried to protest again, voice shaking. How could you explain that you’re in love with her?
“If you can do it, you should be able to talk about it.” Wanda coaxed.
“Please, let me just go upstairs and I’ll clean everything up and…”
“Oh, no, it’s too late for that now.” Wanda interrupted you, knowing where you were trying to go with that thought. “You don’t get to pretend that nothing happened.” She added with a thoughtful expression. “You see… I tried to pretend that I don’t see the way you act, or your little skimpy outfits, or the way you look at me. I tried to pretend that I don’t hear you calling my name at night, when you touch yourself… I tried to stay away and be a good stepmother, a good wife… And then you go and do something like this… Tell me, Y/N, what should I do with you now, hmm?”
Her words, the way she said them… The admission that she knew of your feelings sent you spiralling all over again and you didn’t even know where to begin. What were you meant to say? What did she intend to do? Was she going to tell your father? God, you hoped she wouldn’t. Not even because you were so afraid of him, but because you were so afraid of losing her. You never wanted to lose her.
“It would be so wrong of me to take you.” Wanda continues, talking more to herself now, her words taking a surprising turn. “So wrong… But you make it so hard for me to resist you.” She confessed. “You’ve been driving me crazy.” She said in a low voice, getting closer to where you stood, cupping your chin with her fingers, so she could make sure that you’ll look at her. “Do you know how hard it has been? Watching you offer yourself to me so shamelessly, listening to your moans at night, hearing you call my name and having to stay away from you…” Wanda’s gaze had darkened, making your pussy throb around the vibrator inside you and leaving you even more needy and helpless in her hold. God, you wanted her! “Do you know how many nights I almost didn’t? Do you know how many nights I had to cum to your filthy little sounds, imagining that it was me, making you feel that good?” She asked, searching your face.
You couldn’t believe the words that kept coming out of her mouth, couldn’t believe that she would ever want the same thing you did, that she would even give you the time of day… You wondered if she really meant it. Yet she kept speaking, her words making the ache between your legs almost unbearable and the need to grind against the vibrator nestled inside you harder and harder to resist. You were ready to combust. Fuck, you were ready to let her do absolutely anything and everything to you, just as long as she finally took you.
“Tell me something, honey…” Her words pulled you from your thoughts. “Do you want Mommy to make you feel good? Is that why you pulled this little stunt? Wanted to get my attention?” She asked, watching your eyes go wide at the mention of the title you used, the one you moaned out when you thought of her. “Oh, yes, I know what you like to call me.” She smirked. “It has a very nice ring to it, when you moan it out, touching yourself.”
You could only whine, too scared to admit how badly you needed her, how much you thought of her, how long you’ve waited for this moment, but Wanda didn’t rush. She held your gaze and she searched your eyes, filled with longing, as she let you think this through. If she was going to do this, she would do it right.
“Wanda… Please?” You uttered in almost despair, not knowing how to ask for what you wanted and not daring to hope that you would be lucky enough to get it.
“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?” She asked softly, her thumb brushing your cheekbone as a way to soothe you. “You’ll have to use your words.” She coaxed, when she saw the way you took her hand, trying to guide it lower, to where you needed her most.
“Mommy…” You whined once more, trying to plead with her, hoping that it will affect her enough to finally make that final move.
Hearing your pleas, hearing that title pass your lips as you looked at her was easily pulling at her heart strings. It was also making her want to ruin you. She couldn’t deny that it did something to her and despite your poor behaviour today, she wanted to be good to you, wanted to care for you, to shower you with the love and affection you deserved, but she couldn’t make that move, not before you asked. She had no intention to be cruel to you, she just wanted to be sure, that you wanted to take that step with her.
“I know you’re feeling shy, dear, but this matters to me.” She said softly. “I need you to know what this means and I need to know that you want it. For that, you’ll have to use your words.” She clarified again, waiting for her words to sink in, but this time she didn’t have to wait long.
“You know I want this. For years I’ve wanted this, wanted you. And I never thought you’d ever see me, the way I see you, but Wanda, if you do… Please, don’t make me wait anymore. Please?”
As soon as she heard that, she leaned forward, capturing your chin with her fingers and looking deep in your eyes, letting the anticipation build between you, before she slowly connected your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and soft, she moves tentatively, bringing her body closer, so she could let her tongue explore you as well, and she’s pleasantly surprised when your hands grip her top, pulling her on top of you.
Just this small contact had your heart fluttering with joy. You never thought this could be your reality. It felt so good to feel her weight against you. You had waited too long for this. You had spent so many endless nights thinking of just this. But Wanda was worth it. To be able to smell her, to taste her for yourself, you would do it all over again.
Her hands were just as gentle as they ran up and down your neck, or buried themselves in your hair and you couldn’t help but moan and whimper as you desperately tried to get more friction and more attention from her.
She was trying to take it slow, letting herself feel the culmination of her longing and just enjoy the way your lips felt, but it just wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel more of you, feel every part of you against her and explore every millimetre of your gorgeous body. This moment between you was long overdue and you both knew it.
Tentatively, she straddled one of your thighs, pressing her knee against your aching core, hoping to provide some much-needed relief to you both, but it only made you needier and more desperate for Wanda to finish what she started.
“Mommy, please.” You whispered softly, breaking the kiss to look up at her with longing and she instantly understood.
As much as you hoped to hold yourself together, as much as you wanted to prolong this moment, scared that if you opened your eyes, she’ll disappear, you couldn’t help the way your pussy throbbed. You had waited hours, teased and edged and filled to the brim with no relief and you couldn’t stand it a second longer. You needed to cum, or you were going to combust.
Wanda met your gaze, her head spinning from how lost she let herself get in your kisses, only to see you in a similar state. The love and adoration in your eyes, all that pent up longing and your pleas were irresistible. She had to indulge you. Then again, she also had to teach you a lesson and it felt right to use this toy. You had started all this by taking it after all.
With a devilish grin, Wanda reached into her pocket, feeling for the remote control and blindly pressing the start button. She felt the toy come to life with a sudden buzz, the vibrations dull against her knee, but from the way you gasped at the sensation, she could tell you were having a much more intense experience and she let it continue its work, while she took you in a deep kiss.
When it became too hard to keep up with her, your mind too distracted by the pleasure, she started to kiss her way down your body, kissing your neck and helping you grind against her, elated to hear the way you moaned and whimpered from every small touch. God, you were gorgeous.
“Look at you.” She admired you with a soft smile. “I’m about to make you fall apart, while fully dressed and without a single touch to your pussy.” She rasped, her hands massaging your breasts through the fabric of your dress and bra.
Her words made your cheeks burn and pulled another whine from you, yet you couldn’t deny how hot it was, or how badly you wanted it. In fact, they only made you grind against her more, trying to pull her in for another kiss, desperate to feel her against you.
She was right too. You were shaking beneath her, your movements turning more erratic, the closer to your edge you would get, and knowing that once you were there, you wouldn’t be able to stop it.
“Mommy, please I want to cum.’’ You pleaded softly. “Please, don’t stop it this time.”
“So pretty when you beg.” Wanda smirked. “You wanna cum, my darling?”
“Yes, want to cum so badly.”
“If you want to cum, you have to promise Mommy some things first.” Wanda explained, removing a strand of hair from your face. “First: You’ll never take Mommy’s toys again without permission.” She stated sternly. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mommy, I promise.” You nodded, body squirming under her intense gaze. God, you were close.
“Second: No more touching yourself. And no more cumming unless you have Mommy’s permission either.” She explained while she trailed soft kisses down your neck. “Understood?”
“Yes! Yes, I understand.” You almost screamed, your hips stuttering against her. “Fuck!”
“Good.’’ She smiled triumphantly. She could probably get you to agree to just about anything right now. “But most importantly, no one else is allowed to see you like this, to touch you like this, to feel you and fuck you and kiss you the way I can. You’re all mine, got it?” She almost growled in your ear, one of her hands tangling in your hair to make you look up at her.
“Yes! God, yes! I don’t want anyone else, Mommy, just you. Please! I just want to be yours. Please? Can I be yours? Can I please cum?” You spoke in a high-pitched tone, your desperation reaching new hights as you heard the possessiveness in her voice.
Wanda could tell you were seconds away from your orgasm and the smile that spread over her face when she reached into her pocket, stopping the vibrator, could only be described as evil. She found it amusing that you would think that she’d let you cum like this, with a toy you had taken from her, instead of getting to feel you for herself.
“Oh my God, no, no no…” You whined, tears prickling your eyes as the sting of denial hit you full force. It was horrible, being so close, yet unable to finish. If Wanda wasn’t right on top of you, you would have reached down, trying to finish it yourself. At the same time the pleasure that burned through you, unyielding and demanding was somehow sweet.
“How does that feel, my sweet girl?” Wanda asked with a calm, self-satisfied tone that had chills run down your spine. Something told you that she would love to do this to you again. “Frustrating, right?”
“Yes.” You whined, as your nails dug into her arms, as the orgasm you had built started to dull down and fade.
“That’s what it felt like, every time you teased me.” She explained with a growl. “That’s what it felt like, to find out you took something of mine without my permission.” She added, as she took down your panties, her eyes zeroing in on the pink vibrator nestled inside you. “I’ll do much worse, if you try something like that again.” She snarled, the threat clear in her voice.
“I wouldn’t Mommy, I promise.” You squirmed under her inquisitive eyes.
“Learned your lesson, huh, my darling?” She smirked, pulling out the dildo as well, discarding it on the floor carelessly, so she can admire your sweet pussy. You were so beautiful like this. Legs spread wide, slick folds on display and your desperate pussy twitching with need and excitement. You were perfect. “Then let me show you how good I can be to you.”
With a smile, she teased her fingers over your sensitive folds, playing with your clit and pulling small moans from you, before she eased her digits inside you. Your tight walls accepted her gladly, fluttering and pulsing around her happily and a string of moans filled her ears. She curled them experimentally, looking for your sweet spot and it didn’t take long to find it, your back arching off the couch in delight.
“Yeah, that’s your spot, isn’t it? Right there.” She emphasized her words, by pressing on it again.
“Yes, right there!” You sighed, back arching as the pleasure inside you started to grow again.
Wanda’s fingers were even better than the toy, stretching you deliciously, as they moved just the way you liked and you couldn’t believe that you had lived so long without getting to experience them.
Her hungry eyes were stuck on the view of her fingers moving in and out of you, your juices sticking to the palm of her hand, that she made sure to press against your clit at each stroke. It was obscene how much you reacted to her, how badly you needed her and you tried to pull her closer, so you’d hide in the crook of her neck, but she wouldn’t let you.
“No need to be embarrassed, darling. Mommy loves to see how good she makes you feel.” She husked, but gave in none the less, wanting to feel you close to her.
She peppered soft kisses on your cheeks and jaw, trailed them down your neck and against your ear as you moaned for her, clawing at her clothed back and it took everything in her not to stretch you out with a third finger. When your walls tightened around her, gripping her hard, she knew you were getting close again, your insatiable little pussy just begging her for more.
“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” She asked sweetly. “Are you going to make a mess all over my fingers?”
“God, yes!” You gasped, trying to pull her impossibly closer.
“Show me.” Wanda husked, claiming your lips in another kiss, nestling even closer to you, pulling your legs around her waist, so she could press against you snugly, almost folding you in half as her fingers worked your G-spot.
The position was surprisingly intimate, your body trapped under Wanda. It felt snug and safe, all your senses surrounded by her. You could smell her perfume, see the curtain of her soft, wavy hair falling around you, taste her as she kissed you, feel her deep inside you as you reached your edge with soft moans of pure pleasure.
When you finally fell over it, she helped you ride the waves of extasy, her fingers never stopping their movement. You were writhing under her, but she held you down effortlessly, until you gave her everything you had to offer and she pulled out of you with a contented grin.
“That’s my good girl.” She praised, lifting up her fingers to inspect them and slowly putting them in her mouth, so she could clean them up. “And so delicious too.” She added happily.
For a moment she contemplated letting you rest, but her own arousal was driving her crazy, the wetness in her panties a stark reminder of how badly she needed some relief. But it wasn’t just that. She hadn’t even properly undressed you yet, hadn’t had a chance to taste you from the source. She wanted to do so many things to you…
“Thank you.” You purred like a happy cat, stretching a little from underneath her.
“Such good manners.” Wanda mused. “Always such a good girl for me.” She smiled, noting the way you beamed proudly at her praise. “Think you can help Mommy undress you?” She asked, waiting for your happy nod of consent and your eager adjustment, so you can help her lift off your dress and discard it.
For a moment you felt a little insecure about yourself, despite the many times you had paraded yourself in front of Wanda, but she didn’t let you dwell on it for too long. She kissed you deeply, her lips never leaving yours, while her hands reached behind you and unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere behind her, while her hands explored you. Your skin was so soft to her touch, your body responding to every little caress and begging for more.
You were gorgeous in this state and she wanted to show you just how much she truly loved you, wanted to show you how deep her feelings really went, wanted you to know that this meant everything to her. You meant everything to her.
“Can I see you too, please?” You asked shyly, while she massaged your breasts, eyes fixed on them hungrily.
“Of course, darling.” She smiled knowingly, probably realizing how shy you must feel, being the only one naked. “Do you want to do it, or should I?”
“May I?” You practically beamed at her, sitting up in anticipation.
“Of course, sweetness.” Wanda smiled softly, stopping her movements, so she could give you some space.
Undressing Wanda was almost a spiritual experience. Each item of clothing you were able to remove revealed more of her beauty to your adoring gaze and she felt the swell of pride when she watched you take in every curve with admiration. It felt so good to be admired so openly and she allowed you to take your time, to kiss and caress her, as you shed her clothing.
When you unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts, you almost drooled at the sight of them. Perky nipples stood at attention, begging to be worshipped and you barely had time to ask if she’d let you, before you did just that. Capturing each breast in your palms, you swirled your tongue over her nipples, sucking on them gently and smiling when you pulled soft sighs of pleasure from the older woman.
As you finally reached her underwear, lacy, red panties fully capturing your attention, you couldn’t help but gasp, when you found her just as wet as you were.
“Do you like seeing that, honey? Do you like knowing you make me this wet? Do you like knowing that every night I heard you call out to me, I got just as wet, touching myself to the thought of making you mine? Does it excite you, knowing that you caused all this?”
“Yes, Mommy! I always wanted you just like that. Always wanted to know how you would feel, what you would taste like, if I could have you in my mouth.” You confessed, remembering each time you fantasized that Wanda would find you with your hand between your legs and give you exactly what you wanted.
“Well, now that you have me, have a taste.” She nodded happily, helping you take off her panties and spreading her legs, to give you a good view of her soaked folds.
Instead of answering, you just kneeled, slipping off the couch effortlessly and finding your place between her legs. With the sight of her soaked panties and the delicious smell of her reaching your nostrils, you could already feel your mouth water. There was something so erotic about having her above you like this.
Wanda looked as regal as a queen as she let you take her in in all her glory. Darkened, green eyes never looked away from you, as she left everything on display. And by all the gods, she was magnificent. Everything about her was pure perfection and you were happy to stay right there, on your knees, forever, worshipping and admiring her, if it wasn’t for the hand, that soon tangled itself in your hair, pulling you closer to her.
She leaned in, kissing you fully and only pulled away, when you both needed to breathe.
“Don’t make me wait too long.” She said as she leaned back against the couch, the hand in your hair pulling you forward and closer to where she wanted you.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You smiled, moving forward on your own and taking a small experimental lick.
Her reaction was instantaneous, her fingers tightening their grip and pulling you all the way, until your mouth was flush against her. She sighed with satisfaction, her legs spreading wider, to give you more room to explore her and by God, she tasted so good. You wanted to devour her whole.
“Yeah, that’s better!” She sighed, her hips canting up against your mouth, as your tongue swirled over her clit. “Just like that, baby.”
Her praise was almost hypnotic, sparking something inside you, an urge to be better than all her other lovers, to show her that you’re worth all this, that you would earn the privilege to be hers. To show her that you would learn what made her feel good, what made her moan out in pleasure, what had her screaming and bucking her hips into your mouth. You’d learn it all and you’ll give it to her, just so she would call you her good girl again.
“Fuck, yes!” She cursed under her breath. “So fucking good with your mouth.”
Her hand in your hair kept you firmly against her, nails scratching at your scalp as Wanda guided you through what she wanted. And she wasn’t shy about it either. The closer she got, the more she used you for her pleasure, her legs planted on your shoulders as she rode you even more.
“Fingers, honey. Put your fingers inside me.” She spoke breathlessly, almost suffocating you with how much she pushed you into her pussy, when she felt you enter her. “Yes, just like that!” She praised. “Such a good girl. Gonna make Mommy cum so hard.”
The prospect of making her cum had your excitement reach new levels and you doubled your efforts, swirling your tongue around her clit in circles that seemed to drive her crazy. You could feel her walls pulse around your fingers, squeezing you and pulling you in, as far as you could go and you knew she wouldn’t last much longer.
Wanda reached her edge with a high-pitched moan, her thighs squeezing around your head and the hand in your hair tightening its hold on you almost painfully, just as she started to fall apart. The orgasm that built in the pit of her stomach spread like a tidal wave, coursing through her entire body as she shook against you.
She could feel your free hand gripping her thigh, trying to keep her steady as you helped her ride it all out. When she did, body slumping on the couch with a happy sigh, she hurried to pull you up and into her embrace. Getting to cum with your mouth and fingers felt so much better than the empty nights she spent with her toys and she knew she wouldn’t be able to give you up, even for a second.
When she was able to recover, she got up, helping you to your feet with a gentle hand.
“Let me take you upstairs, sweetheart.” She suggested. “I believe you had an interest in my collection?”
Her words were full of innuendo and you practically leaped, following her up the stairs and only stopping in front of her bedroom.
“Wanda?” You looked up at her, a little insecure.
“Yes, darling.” She paused, at hearing her name pass your lips, instead of the title you chose to give her.
“Is this…” You tried to ask, but couldn’t find the right words, biting your lips in anticipation. “Does it mean…”
“You mean everything to me, Y/N.” She said reassuringly, clearly understanding what you wanted to ask.
She had spent her whole life looking for love like yours. For someone, who would worship her the way you did. And now that she had it, she couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. Couldn’t imagine ever sharing you with another soul, or letting anyone ever touch you the way she did. As soon as she kissed you, she knew that she will commit to you for good.
“Do you mean it?” You looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Because I…”
“So do I, my darling.” She smiled softly at you, knowing that neither one of you was ready to admit it just yet.
The two of you stood there, in front of her door, for a few moments longer, just smiling at each-other, letting your eyes say the things you couldn’t form into words, before you couldn’t stand the tension any longer.
“May I kiss you again?” You asked a little shyly, fighting the urge to hide into her again.
Wanda’s smile only widened. She opened her door, the soft light from within illuminating the perfectly pristine space, as she pulled you closer to her.
“Come inside, sweetheart and you can do so much more than just kiss.”
______________________________________________________
I just might have to make a part 2 to this fic, because there is just so much left unsaid here... But at least I get to share the beginning with you guys! Let me know what you think!
If you liked this story and you want more, please visit the Masterlist with all my works. Happy reading!
Disclaimer: Image not mine. I'd happily give credit to the owner if I knew who they were :)
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azzo0 · 29 days
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cw: death
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Katsuki held his sons' hands tightly so they did not run away from him as they walked down the bustling streets. The twins were really chaotic and loved running. Sometimes, Katsuki wondered if they ever got tired of it.
"Hurry up, mama is waiting for us!" The youngest of the twins exclaimed, trying to walk ahead of his father. 
"Slow down, Naoki," Katsuki sighed for the hundredth time, "Look at your brother. He's walkin' nice n' slow."
"Kaoru is a slow poke!"
"Papa, Nao's makin' fun of me again!" Kaoru complained, tugging on Katsuki's hand.
"Be nice, Naoki." Katsuki reminded. It was often difficult for him to get the two to stop arguing over minuscule reasons like who got the last bottle of strawberry milk or who got to keep the TV remote. There was never a dull day when you had two mini Katsuki's around. 
They finally arrived at the flower shop, much to the twins' delight, "No running," Katsuki reminded, "You'll knock the flowers down."
He leaned by the counter, watching the twins ogle at the vibrant array of flowers with bright cherry eyes. They always spent a few minutes admiring pretty and sweet-smelling flowers before buying their mother's favourite ones. 
"Okay, boys, done looking around?" Katsuki said at last.
"Yes, papa." The two replied in unison.
"Then which flowers are ya getting for Mama?" 
"Lilies!" The twins exclaimed. The florist smiled and wrapped the delicate white lilies with care, handing the bouquet to Katsuki after he paid. He felt a tug at his jeans and looked down to see Kaoru pointing a small finger at something. Katsuki followed the direction of his finger to see a shelf with teddy bears and other small gift items. 
"Can we get Mama a teddy? It's her birthday, just flowers won't do!" 
"Yes, let's get Mama a teddy too!!" Naoki agreed. Katsuki hummed in response and paid for the teddy holding a red heart, handing it to Kaoru. 
"Can I hold the flowers?" Naoki asked. 
"Sure," Katsuki gave the bouquet to Naoki, stifling a smile at the fact that the bouquet was too big for his little arms. 
Katsuki took the boys to a tranquil place, his heart aching when the twins' once excited steps slowed down. The brothers stood side by side, their heads hung low. Katsuki kneeled down beside his sons, brushing his fingers over the cool headstone. He glanced at the twins and ruffled their hair, giving them a smile even though his chest squeezed and his heart bled. He did it for the sake of them. He wanted his babies to smile. 
He watched their lips tug up in the smallest smile. Naoki set the lilies down on the earth while Kaoru let the teddy sit by the headstone. The two sat down on their knees, "Happy birthday, Mama."
"We miss you so much," Kaoru mumbled. 
"We wish you were here," Naoki sniffled, "Then we could buy a big cake, and Papa would take us on a picnic. You like picnics, right, Mama? Come back to us. Papa misses you too."
Katsuki felt his throat closing up at the sight of the twins huddled together as they tried to maintain a brave front. Beads of tears welled in his waterline. He held his arms open, and the boys got up to bury themselves in their father's chest. He held them close to him, a tear rolling down his cheek. 
Happy birthday, my love. 
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sttoru · 9 months
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Toji x reader kids first nightmare
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff.
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“ugh,” toji groans as his peaceful slumber was interrupted by small cries. it was currently 4:35am and the two of you were cuddled up underneath the blankets after putting megumi to bed a couple hours earlier. toji’s beefy arms were tightly wrapped around your bare figure, his vision blurry and his voice hoarse from the lack of rest once abruptly awoken. you started to stir too, however toji quickly soothes you back to sleep;
“ssh, ssh, i’ll take care of ‘m.” you were usually the one who instantly rushed over to your son during the night and it made your husband feel bad. you already do so much around the house, the least he could do in return was take over this simple task.
toji gets up with a quiet yawn, scratching his head as he tries to find his boxers somewhere on the floor. he manages to spot them scattered near the bed along with your own pile of clothes; “comin’..” toji grumbles, almost stumbling over his own feet while hurriedly pulling up his boxers.
the soft, weak cries of the little baby were at their loudest in the nursery. megumi was in his crib, hands aimlessly flailing around, cheeks red and tears staining both his face and bedsheets. toji’s heart ached at the sight once the lights flickered on.
“i gotta say—y’re breaking my heart there, kid.” the man sighs deeply and reaches down to lift megumi up in his (hopefully) consoling embrace. he’s seen others have nightmares before, his wife being an example, but there’s something about seeing a child—his child—in distress that makes him doubt himself as a dad. he doesn’t have any experience with kids and it showed in specific moments like these. he has no clue on how to handle a child who just got awoken from a bad dream. though, as always, he tries.
“shhh,” shushing is a simple first step that anyone could think of; “it’s okay, daddy’s here,” reassuring the little one of his presence is a decent second step, although there’s no guarantee megumi could understand. toji’s mind was working overtime as he tried to recall the methods you used to help megumi quiet down
he eventually decides to simply sit on the nearby rocking chair, leaning back against it while carefully swaying his son back and forth. his lips were brushing against megumi’s ear to whisper sweet, reassuring things in hopes it would calm the kid.
“must’ve been scary, hm?” toji mumbles, hand gently patting the back of megumi’s head. the baby was still crying, however the volume and intensity of the sobs had decreased greatly the moment he was in his dad’s arms;
“i know.. i know, shhh.” toji continues after placing megumi’s little body close to his bare chest, the chair still moving back and forth slowly—the motions being calming for both father and son.
a couple minutes pass by and megumi was finally back asleep on toji’s torso; it seemed like hearing his dad’s breathing and voice was more than enough to soothe his nerves. toji had his big hands placed securely on megumi’s body, head held low to kiss his son’s forehead as his own eyes started to droop.
“g’night..”
before toji even realised, he had started to doze off as well. he made sure to hold his son tightly—cuddling up to the tiny boy in an attempt to keep him safe and sound from any bad nightmares.
“..love you.”
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