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neuroprincess · 1 year

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Broken Rules - Larissa Weems/Female Reader

Larissa Weems/Female Reader

Summary: An unfair deal, that's all Y/N gets from Larissa and was enough until it wasn't anymore. After a few glasses of wine and sudden courage she questions the woman, this could work or ruin everything for good.

Classification: +18, Angst, Slight Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, arguing, harsh words, swearing, slight sex, injury, denial of feelings, unrequited love, jealousy, hurt/comfort

Word count: +6400

Unrevised

There are three essential rules for this deal, in black and white, very clear imposed since the first night they spent together. The third is crystal clear, not least, never spend the night, this one is understandable considering the academy and how awkward a teacher leaving the principal's living quarters so early would be. That's the excuse Y/N gives herself every time she has to sneak through the halls of Nevermore in the middle of the night. Second rule, never tell anyone. This kills her inside, in these months all she wants to do in good and bad moments is to share with someone about how she feels, not even with the blonde can she talk because it would imply the first and most important rule. No falling in love, which means they don't talk about anything but professional matters, they don't kiss unless they are having sex and that is all Y/N can get out of this deal. Sex. Stress relief. Sometimes some sexual gift, nothing personal.

The teacher repeats the rules mentally as she serves herself with a glass of wine, standing with back to her mistress who finishes paperwork at the office desk. Well, she arrived at the appointed time, but Larissa ended up delaying some important matters and now has to finish. Y/N asked if she should leave, receiving only a negative nod. The week was more exhausting than usual, a visit from a couple of parents for an unexpected situation, some student managed to break the plumbing of the bathroom sink and a gorgon accidentally petrified his friend, all problems that earned her complex resolutions, headache and extra paperwork to fill out.

"So, why the parents came here?" she asks, still not turning around, putting the bottle in the same place and raising the glass to lips, sipping the sweet liquid "Both Nikolas and Lucinda are great kids."

"They really are, but none of their families support the relationship between vampires and werewolves. Nothing that you, being a normie, understand."

"Well, I may not be an outcast, but I live with them every day and I am in this world. You are one of those who advocates harmony between normies and outcasts, I don't understand..."

"It's not the same thing." the blonde says simply and shrugs, her tone of voice unchanged, eyes still fixed on the printed words.

Y/N huffs and takes a generous sip of wine, feeling the burning in the throat from alcohol, sorrow and a little bit of anger. She stares at her boss, clothes perfectly clean and well ironed, the red lipstick highlighting her fleshy lips, hair styled, long fingers wandering across the surface and blue eyes standing out in the whole scene, literally a sight to take breath away and maybe the rest of the sanity the younger still possesses after swallowing the entire contents of the glass in seconds. The glass is filled again and soon is empty, this repeats until she drinks the fourth in a row, the burning no longer bothers her, the heat rises through her body, head spins for a millisecond before turning to face Larissa again. She sighs and walks at a slow pace until she is in front of the large desk, her mind once full of things to say slowly becoming blank, void, just as it always is around the tall woman. Perhaps this is the spell and reason for them to continue in this unfair deal, it's like the white witch has put a spell on the simple peasant human, who would kiss her feet in adoration.

"What?" Weems asks raising her gaze for the first time since the other entered the room, a little annoyed by the sudden proximity "Did you drink before coming here?" the teacher just denies with a nod, continuing to stare at her with a neutral expression "So why do you look like shit? You know, I don't care, as long as you didn't show up in front of the students like that."

The words sound normal to her, but to Y/N it's a painful feeling in the chest similar to an anvil being thrown, hurts, weighs down and she can't move staying in the same place. The neutral expression falls apart, eyes instantly getting watery and whole face burning as she fights the imminent cry, in fact she only realizes she is crying when a drop hits the document in front of her, the first of many that start to fall even though she tries to contain them. She knows she doesn't look like shit but at most blushing after drinking. There is no way she looks like shit because between the end of classes and going to the principal's office passed by her own dorm to get ready, try to look impeccable for their weekly "date", put on her new dress bought a few weeks ago on a visit to Jericho, touched up the daily makeup, brushed hair and put on her favorite perfume, the only one that didn't make Larissa complain.

"Y/N?" the voice is low and nonchalant when she calls her, with a hint of concern that goes unnoticed.

"I don't look like shit...I've tidied myself up, my hair is in place, I'm smelling good.... Why the hell do you hate me?" she asks finally after trying to defend herself uselessly, they are simply unimportant words when a dull expression takes over the blonde's face and then surprise at the question "You always act like I'm inferior, then say I look like shit and accuse me of getting drunk around the students, something I would never do because I love and respect them. Am I such a cheap person to you?"

"I didn't mean that..."

"Then what did you mean?" the question is angry, totally emotional, and the voice comes out ragged, raw with genuine desire to understand the other woman.

"Y/N, you are on dangerous ground, this is against our deal." Larissa says gently after pulling herself together from the initial shock "Don't do something you'll regret."

"Damn, so that's what I am to you? I try to lie to myself that I am someone for you, someone you can.... Just can..." she tries to find words that get stuck in the throat and mind turns to blank mist again when she realizes that the principal is staring at her, an almost smile rising on lips, not a smile of encouragement, seems almost cruel like a hunter waiting for the hare to fall into the trap and the younger would not give her this taste or reason to smile "I am and always will be just sex for you, right?" the blonde just nods in agreement "Right."

The teacher just nods while kneeling, which leaves the taller one momentarily confused until she finds her crawling to the middle of her legs, no longer caring about the condition of the dress, makeup drips down cheeks, eyes are distant and face is flushed, not in a positive way, now Y/N looks like shit and it's not a good feeling knowing she's the cause of it. Something presses Larissa's chest making the smile that was rising die instantly. Everything is too fast, the usually gentle fingers of the younger are quick and imprecise, desperate to lift the gray dress up to waist length. The woman lifts her hips helping, soon the lace panties are exposed, framing the path between the long pale legs. The fabric is just set aside as the head disappears under the table and fabric of the dress, the principal's hands grab a handful of the girl's hair pulling her to herself hoping to feel more pleasure, but there is nothing but a shiver and the slight sensation, she simply cannot delight in the skilled tongue circling the clit, nor touches that usually make her melt. A nagging sensation seeps into her chest and stomach churns, even as she closes the eyes trying to erase the pitiful image of the younger, unsuccessfully, the blotchy and weeping face invades her mind, it's intrusive and strangely... painful. Blue eyes open, she stares into the ceiling mirror feeling a little nauseous at the sight and a hand pulls Y/N's hair back, stopping her from continuing, also making her unbalanced falling on the floor and hitting the back of head against the wooden end of the desk. She just groans in pain, confused in a drunken state and not understanding exactly what had just happened.

"What is it?" she asks taking a her own hand to head where it hurts, a little surprised to find the part slightly moist, but she doesn't care, everything hurts and that's the lesser of it "Isn't that what you wanted?!"

"It was, actually it is. But not like this. Clean yourself up first, look decent."

"So I have to look decent to fuck you? Got it." Y/N laughs humorlessly but stands up to do it, hands resting on the woman's thighs to stand without caring that she is being ignored, the blonde looks at some specific spot on the wall avoiding looking down "I'll be right back." she walks with slow steps to the bathroom attached to the office, closing the door behind her.

"Shit!" Larissa lets out the air she didn't even realize was holding and lowers her gaze, the memory of the girl there still present, a shiver runs through her body and eyes widen as she notices contrasting crimson on the pale knees, the perfect mark of fingers stamping across skin. She barely has time to think about it as the sound of something falling in the bathroom makes her jump out of the chair "Y/N?" without an answer.

She waits a few seconds still unanswered until walking quickly to the bathroom, opening the door without knocking or asking for again, extremely relieved to find the younger bent over the sink rubbing her face with the running water, black mascara staining the white sink, a little red mixed in. A decorative plant is scattered on the floor, that is the less important thing. The image scares Weems, she freezes in place for an instant and the next is running around the bathroom looking for a towel or something that can wipe the head of her, grabbing a white hand towel from the cabinet. Without a second thought she pushes Y/N lightly, opening space so she can moisten the cloth and gently presses it where the injury was.

"What are you doing?" the teacher asks confused as she lifts the face, finally seeing her condition clearly in the reflection of the mirror, feeling even more miserable.

"You hurt your head..."

"And? Not like it matters." she shrugs, grabbing another towel from the cabinet to dry her face, wiping the last remnants of makeup off "You can drop it and go back to your place, I just need a moment."

The woman drops the towel and walks away with hands outstretched in surrender, almost rolling the eyes at such stubbornness.

"I'm going back to the paperwork, you can go to your dorm."

"You don't want to anymore?" Y/N asks with head down, not having the courage to look her in the eye.

"No." she replies simply and walks away, her conscience seemingly clear that she seems to be physically fine despite everything.

She sits down in the chair again, staring at nothing, and eyes wander to the table in the corner of the office, the bottle of wine reserved for the night practically empty. That explains everything. Y/N is weak to alcohol, one glass is enough for her to be a complete mess for the rest of the night, one bottle can be... terrible. After two minutes without any movement or sign of life from inside the bathroom the worry takes over, what if she fell in the bathroom? No, there would be noise. Or she sat down and lost consciousness? If she is feeling sick... Larissa interrupts her own thoughts trying to tell herself that Y/N is a grown woman and can handle it, while she can barely control the panic with the idea that something serious is happening. It is a bloody cut, the one on the back of the head, one of the most fragile and dangerous places to hit. She is brought out of thoughts when she hears the door being opened, immediately looking for the younger and sees her struggling to walk, barefoot with the shoes in one hand and the other holding the towel. Face now clean, hair pinned up and she looks a little more sober, only looks, because legs cross each step, causing her to almost fall over after losing the support of the door frame.

"Leave me..." she whispers when feels the presence of the other woman, who has run in stride to support her "I'll handle this on my own."

"Fuck off, stop being stubborn." the tall takes her in arms ignoring the protests to leave her on the floor and walks quickly to the other door attached to the office, this one leads to a private bedroom "Be quiet." she says harshly when the younger doesn't stop complaining, trying to get out of her arms. That manages to make silence reign.

Everything goes by like a blur, Y/N being placed on the soft bed, large elegant hands working to push the hair aside so that the severity of the injury can be checked, to great relief discovering it to be something superficial, but still needed some extra care. The small cut is carefully cleaned with cotton, saline and antiseptic, then gently dried, Larissa improvises a bandage with gauze and adhesive tape. The pain makes the girl moan from time to time, no matter how hard she tries to hold herself together it's almost impossible, the drunkenness that washes over her body also takes away any extra resistance. When the bandage is finished she tries to get up, being stopped by the same hands that took care, making her sit against the mattress again. They stare at each other for a few seconds before the older one turns her face away not supporting the eye contact.

"Now can I leave?" Y/N asks after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"No. Lie down." the blonde orders and gets up, walking to the closet from where she pulls out extra pillows and blankets, when turning around she almost drops everything on the floor at the sight "Please, put your clothes back on."

Y/N props herself up on elbows and stares at her confused, sex is the only thing Larissa wants from her, she has made that clear many times and half an hour ago too. It's just sex. That's what sums up the "relationship" and the reason for the deal that makes her days miserable. And in the same night the woman denies it twice, in fact now seems even disgusted to look at her. She rises feeling defeat coursing inside, from flesh to bone, everything hurts, but nothing compares to the pain that forms in her chest every second she spends in this place. Soon her underwear and dress are put back on, the fabric already crumpled, a bit mismatched, very different from how it was before.

"Here." the principal places two pillows on the left side of the bed, fluffing them and indicating with a hand for the other to lie down, which she does without asking questions despite the extremely confused look, as if it were nothing more than a strange dream "You need to stay awake for at least an hour, to make sure it was nothing more serious, after that you can go. " the younger just nods, carefully laying down, a groan of pain escapes as head reaches the pillow, soon a pill is placed in front of her "Painkiller."

"Is it dipyrone?"

"No, ibuprofen, I know you are allergic to dipyrone."

"Thank you."

"Okay." Larissa shrugs and walks to the other side of the bed, sitting up "You know we can't continue after today, right?!"

"Why?" her voice comes out broken, a lump forming in the throat at the mere thought of not being with the woman anymore, even if only for sex.

"We broke the rules, you talked about feelings, I took care of you and now I'm letting you spend the night, none of that is part of the deal." they don't look each other in the eye for different reasons, the blonde sighs before continuing "That breaks the idea of friends with benefits."

"To be friends with benefits we should be friends in the first place, but I don't think we ever were. You despise me." Y/N whispers bitterly and turns away, she would not give the other the pleasure of seeing her cry.

"You're right."

Time passes torturously slowly, Y/N tries not to cry again, which becomes impossible with the indifference and tension that builds more and more every second, then concentrates on not letting it become obvious, holding back sobs and shaking body. Everything hurts, face, chest, hands gripping hard on the pillow and an annoying headache, despite having taken ibuprofen earlier. For an hour and a half Larissa calls her sporadically to check if she is awake or not, occasionally asking if she feels nauseous or anything else, soon discovering that these are symptoms of post-drinking so she stops asking little by little until is completely quiet. That's when the teacher finally falls asleep, the blonde and usually kind (to others) principal in her mind, still trying not to believe it's over. Trying to fool herself with the idea, maybe the slightest possibility, that it's a nightmare where everything they had just slipped through her fingers because of a bottle of wine.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A week later Y/N finds herself running through the halls of Nevermore, dressed impeccably in a casual women's suit set in her favorite color, high heels tapping against the floor, hair brushed presentably, makeup light and she was glad to finally have the bandage off, it would surely spoil the perfect look to finally meet her students' parents. It has been six months of preparation for this moment, of course there are parents who were not very receptive to the idea of their children being taught by a simple normie who was not even raised in Jericho, just as there were those who supported her hiring and seem equally excited to meet her. Parents' Weekend is the opportunity to do that. She stops in front of the door and sighs, smoothing the fabric of the suit so that it is totally flawless, then smoothed the thin tank top under the blazer, for some reason it seems to be looser against the chest and dangerously close to the edge of the neckline, a few necklaces adorning majestically. The teacher knows she should be feeling fabulous with this look and the greetings she has rehearsed for hours memorized, but nothing takes her away from the miserable state she has been in for a week since she woke up alone in Weems' bedroom, with only a note on the bedside recommending that she go to the doctor and the best way out, without the danger of being seen, would be through the side door. Since then she has been trying to pull herself together, which means trying to avoid the woman as much as possible until it stops hurting.

"You can do it, Y/N. You can take anything for 10 seconds, so just start over and everything will work out." she whispers to herself, closing the eyes in concentration "Allons-y!"

And it all worked out, better than she could have imagined, the principal was nowhere to be seen, at least not in her field of vision. The first parents to show any interest were a vampire's parents, of the youngest, who complimented her highly on how she helped him adjust away from home, the three greeted each other happily before a gentle conversation. Which caught the attention of another vampire family, these were quieter, but equally kind. After an hour of the event she couldn't even count on fingers how many parents she managed to talk to and captivate, all making clear that despite initial reservations they had a good surprise and results with her hiring. This cheered the younger up a bit, at least something seems to be working out in her life, it's that saying, lucky in gambling and unlucky in love.

"So you are the beautiful young lady my son talks so much about?" a voice comes up behind her after saying goodbye to Ajax's parents, when she turns around finds a tall man with striking features, sculpted body highlighted by the cut of his suit and a pair of mesmerizing chocolate eyes "Lucien Corbyn..."

"Elijah's father?!" the parental connection between them is obvious, the boy being a souped up image of him "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Corbyn! Your son is a great student and very kind." she extends a hand expecting the man to shake, being surprised by the touch of his rough hand leading hers to his lips, where he leaves a lingering kiss, staring her in the eyes the whole time.

"The pleasure is all mine." he whispers and smiles lowering his hand, still holding hers "Of course Eli is, he's my son and was raised by me...only me. All credit to his father." and blinks, trying to hint that he is a solo and consequently single father

"I'm not surprised, you two are so much alike. Strong genes." Y/N comments nonchalantly, not realizing how this affects the instinct of the werewolf, who raises an eyebrow feeling audacious and also lucky to have finally found the perfect woman after the former wife's leaving.

She may not have noticed, but the tall woman across the courtyard did and felt extremely uncomfortable at the sight, Larissa was present at the event the entire time, the first 40 minutes spent solving small problems and talking to the parents who donate money to the academy funds. Trying to be as invisible as possible, at the same time her eyes were always on her, the girl who torments days and takes away sleep at night with the simple fact of existing. Sometimes she got lost in the topic of some parent because her focus was too much on the teacher interacting with the families and giving attention to each one of them, after she pulled herself together, she excused and tried to dissipate it from mind, uselessly, since in the next second she was already doing the same thing. And she mentally thanked for repeating the behavior. Corbyn is a wealthy werewolf, leader of the wolf pack, they went to university together, in fact the man was a great conqueror until he married and had the son, but werewolves like big families, have lots of children to make the pack bigger, and he has made it clear in the last two years that he is in search of another mate to give him that.

She greets the mother of some siren she can't even remember the name of, and walks slowly over to where the pair are talking, watching the interaction from a distance. Lucien still holds her hand, his other hand caressing her elbow, but Y/N barely notices because she is too excited talking about his son, one of the favorite children. His eyes are no longer on her face, the blonde can see the lust stamped on the werewolf's face as he stares at a lower point, the teacher's breasts. The two mounds are partially exposed by the neckline of the tank top she wears under her blazer, showing flushed skin and a small part of her lace bra, shit, even she can't look away and has been there, she knows every detail by heart, the softness to the touch, the nipples and how sensitive they can be tearing out sinful moans. Everything about her is sinful and Larissa was once the greatest sinner. As approaches she unconsciously takes off the gray coat, which is landing on Y/N's shoulders in seconds, she is startled by the touch and almost cannot believe it when she hears the familiar voice beside her, nor that the soft delicate gloved hands she misses so much are around shoulders holding her tightly, if it were someone else she might say it feels like a possessive touch.

"I believe Elijah is expecting his father to spend time with him and not with the teacher." she says with venom in voice, a huge fake smile on the lips, staring at his hand hoping the man gets the hint.

"You are right, Principal Weems. I am here for my little wolf." Corbyn agrees with an even more fake smile as he understands the message, instead of letting her go he squeezes the hand even tighter and brings it to his lips again "I hope to see you soon, beautiful young lady. The pack can't wait to host a dinner on your behalf." he winks and finally lets her go, looking directly at the blonde "See you later, Principal!" and doesn't get a response.

Y/N keeps a neutral expression until Lucien disappears from sight soon after finding his son in the crowd and as soon as she doesn't see him uses the arms to try to get rid of the coat, but the long arms stop her and Larissa turn around so that they are face to face, without saying anything she adjusts the piece against the girl's body, covering her breasts and then fastens the buttons quickly. They stare at each other in the process, feeling the strangeness of the moment hit the pit of their stomachs, one feeling nauseous and the other boiling with anger inside, sunk in a feeling similar to jealousy, even if she denies it to herself.

"It's cold." she says shrugging and adjusts the collar of the coat, not failing to notice how big this looks on Y/N, like a big fancy dress, it's almost.. cute to look at.

"I have coats, you can have yours back." her voice comes out in a whisper and she tries to take off the coat again, but is stopped by the taller one, arms wrapping around her again so she doesn't do that "Principal Weems..."

"Let's go inside."

Before she can refuse she feels herself being held by the hand and dragged across the courtyard, barely able to keep up with the woman's steps, partly because of the height difference and also the heavy piece of clothing larger than her, which drags along the ground, none of them caring. On the way some parents observe the scene, from curious to pitying looks, thinking that maybe the teacher was in trouble for some reason, none of them had seen this angry expression on the principal's face before. She just lowers the gaze as just lets be led, knowing that there is no point in arguing, making a scene in front of parents is the last thing she wants.

"What the hell were you thinking flirting with a student's father?" Larissa asks loudly, holding herself back from screaming, once they enter her office.

"I wasn't..."

"Yes, you were. Corbyn is the leader of a wolf pack, an alpha looking for a wife and someone to have his little wolves." she interrupts the younger angrily dumping the facts on the table.

"And?" the answer is simple and mocking, increasing the tension in the room. The blue eyes fill with more anger.

"You don't really know the werewolves, the alphas...they are...you are more than that. More than a trophy to exhibit, than a... breeding slut." the words coming out of her mouth surprises them both, vulgar language compared to her exquisite vocabulary.

"What if marriage and children is something I want? At least Lucien would treat me well, not even hide me." Y/N teases and shrugs, even though she is completely disgusted inside at the idea of that man touching her in this way, besides, she really doesn't know much about werewolves and the classes of the species "And maybe I would be loved."

In less than a second she finds herself practically lying on the armchair with the woman's body on top of hers, kneeling on the floor not caring about the expensive dress, faces inches apart, warm breath against lips and their eyes meet once again, there is fragility in both, many buried feelings suddenly showing. One hand of Larissa's holds the smaller wrist to the top of the armchair, above head, and the other lands below thigh, lifting the leg for the younger to wrap around her waist, so she does instinctively.

"I can give you all of this, right now if you want me to." the older whispers without leaving her eyes, for the first time since they met she showed some vulnerability and to their surprise tears emerged, falling down her face faster than it came "Y/N, I can and want to give you all of this, whatever you wish."

"Then why?" she is confused and shocked, for the past few months the thing she wished most is that someday hopefully her feelings would be reciprocated, receiving only coldness and indifference, accepting the crumbs of the deal they had, it was enough until no more, "Larissa, you despised me for months, as if I was nothing, invisible, even professionally, doubting my abilities just for being a normie. You made me feel...worthless, unworthy of love."

"And I'm miserable for doing that to you, it was never my intention, but when I realized I was already putting up barriers and more barriers to keep you away, yet I couldn't. My romantic past is terrible, I've been hurt a lot by people whom I gave myself to and trusted blindly. For a blind person, as I was, pushing you away and hurting you seemed better than letting myself be hurt once again. I know, that's no excuse for all the shit I put you through. But I was broken emotionally when I met you, so that's why..." the principal stops talking when she feels Y/N's free hand gently wipe away her tears, thumb resting on the now flushed cheeks "I'm not trying to justify it, but I really was afraid to let you in, then when you were gone I realized that being afraid of losing you is bigger, also hurts more. That night I cried hiding in the office after you slept and uselessly tried to convince myself that it was the best thing for both of us, even if it was burning me up inside. And now that I saw that disgusting man touching you hurt like hell, I realized that I can't stand the idea of someone else being in your life like that."

"I..."

"Please forgive me, you were never worthless, I never despised you, never thought you were any of that, fuck, I don't even care that you are normie and I hired you precisely because you are fucking bright, a great teacher and role model for our students. I just can't say I'm sorry for being an asshole and for all the cruel words I've said, if you want I'll wash my mouth out with soap. Y/N, listen very attentively to my words now." Larissa leaves the wrist and long fingers run across the girl's face, admiring every detail, feeling her chest heavy as she remembers that damn night when she was a complete idiot, hurt her in so many ways and made her cry, when she thought lost her forever "You are worthy of all the love in the world, all the happiness, all the affection and you deserve only good things, I made a lot of mistakes, I was the worst person. But..." she sighs and tries to wipe the new wave of tears, anxiety taking over mind and heart "Can you give me a chance? To reward you and show you how much I appreciate you, if you want the world I'll try to give you just to show how deeply I love you."

"You what?" both are shocked at the sudden declaration.

"I..." red painted lips quiver and her eyes become clearer, like crystal water, Y/N sees the pure truth about her feelings behind them "I love you." she finally says, word for word, loud and clear.

"I love you too." the younger whispers, those words meaning more than that, it's forgiveness. They draw closer and slowly bring their lips together.

It's gentle and soft, as if this is the first time and they are discovering each other, very different from the real first time their lips touched months before, which led them to start everything. Neither can believe that this is really happening, or how amazing they feel with a simple kiss after having done so much more than that before. Lips move in sync, hearts racing and they engage in a tight hug, the blonde's arms taking the smaller body to herself, holding her lovingly by the waist and the back of neck. What makes Y/N groan in pain between the kiss, they separate momentarily only for Larissa to check if she is okay, that injury haunted her for a whole week, only reassured after threatening the doctor to tell about the health condition of her beloved. She soon discovers that the teacher is fine, as she is pulled in by Y/N to continue kissing, this time more intense, tongues meet immediately, feeling and exploring each other's mouths with affection and desire, so much desire that makes the skin burn, feverish with love. It's a kiss that is full of all the feelings hidden for months, of the pain they have gone through in different ways, but about the same thing, the desire to be together.

"What are we now?" Y/N asks as soon as their lips part and they are looking at each other again, this time instead of tears there are genuine and almost shy smiles "And what are we doing?"

"Well, I was planning to take you on a date and propose formally..."

"Really, Weems? I thought your silly hand was driving us to another thing..." she points to the long fingers under the coat, between the fabric of her tank top and the waistband of the pants.

"I'm sorry." she is about to take the hand away from there, but is stopped and feels the soft lips against hers again in a quick kiss.

"It's okay..." the buttons are slowly unbuttoned, the tank top showing and when Larissa moves closer to kiss her the fabric is accidentally pulled, exposing even more breasts along with the lace bra that almost drove the principal crazy earlier.

"If I didn't know you I'd say it was all planned." the two laugh and the taller one nods in denial, then pulls on the coat wrapping herself in it, bodies pretty much attached inside "Please, never let Lucien come near you like that again. Just seeing him touching and looking at you like that made me boil inside, I wanted to kill him."

"He wouldn't have come close if I already belonged to someone."

"Fair enough. And that brings us to the previous question, are we more than girlfriends?" the blonde asks a little fearfully afraid she's jumping the gun, they've been sleeping together for about six months now, but under her stupid terms, fruits of damn insecurity "Or...?"

"We are whatever we want to be." she thinks of an objective answer, but not even she, who has always wanted this relationship, knows how to define what they have.

"Then you will be mine, in every way. Body, soul, and mind." they intertwine fingers and Larissa has to fight back new tears when the other nods in agreement, the fear of speaking this fading, her heart speeds up even more "We have a lot to fix, I have a lot to make up for, but I want to be better for you, to be worthy to call you girlfriend and one day wife."

"You are already worthy, you just didn't know it." Y/N whispers with emotion in voice, fighting back her own tears as she faces the woman she loves in the same state, their heads touch and both close eyes just enjoying the moment, feeling the calm after the storm "It's okay now."

"It's okay now." she agrees opening a smile and they gap a little, staring at each other "Damn, I can't believe I finally had the courage to say I love you."

"Neither do I, it's like you're a different Larissa, a better Rissa, who talks, gives affection, knows how to express yourself." the younger's hands run down the principal's neck and rest on the soft face, caressing cheek, then the temple, eyebrows, nose, chin and finally the fleshy lips that quiver at the gentle touch "And love me."

Their lips come together again in a delicate and emotional kiss, still a new feeling to be able to touch and be like this after all they have been through. What they are doing is no longer relieving stress or satisfy horniness trying to control all the built up sexual tension, there are no sloppy kisses, rushed hands, cold touches and even less the usual neglect. It's exactly the opposite of that, affection is conveyed with every touch and the kisses seem simply addictive, like they could live this moment forever and if at some point they parted it would fade away, just like their dreams before.

"I knew I couldn't kiss you this way before or I would fall to my knees in love..." Larissa murmurs between the kiss and points to how she stands in front of the armchair, on knees between her legs, hands holding her "And I was right."

"You're such an idiot, Rissa." they smile and the blonde pulls her around the waist, rubbing hips against Y/N's intimacy, both moan at the friction "My Rissa..."

"Only yours. And you only mine."

"I have never been so happy to break rules in my life."

"And I thank you for it."

They feel deep happiness and peace, nothing matters around, Parents' Weekend, not even the rowdy students, this is their moment. As soon as their lips touch again calmness hangs over heads, there is no more fear, pain or anything like that, just the feeling of being realized and complete after letting love speak louder.

"I love you, Y/N..."

taglist: @opheliauniverse @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @scarr0713 @missdowling @dvrkhcld @heidss @loudchaoscoffee @xvyzxx @quailbagutte @renravens @thoroughly--confused @winterfireblond @milciak @messynessi @gela123 @ctrlamira @milffilm @taurus-baby-34

Join my taglist here ^^

#larissa weems x reader #imagine #female reader #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #angst 'cause you ladies seem to love it

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rustcleaver · 10 months

Text

It Falters On The Horizon (Chapter 1)

Fnaf Eclipse x gn reader, 6k words

(it/they/he pronouns are used for Eclipse)

If any of you have an ao3 invite I could use, I would be deeply grateful <3

Waking up for work on a Tuesday morning isn’t all that bad if you like your job. It doesn’t even need to be particularly glamorous; anything that doesn’t make you want to crumple to the floor like a tinfoil ball by the end of your shift is a win. And anything beats retail. So you’re pretty satisfied with your decent pay (and flexible hours) at the Fazbear Entertainment™ Mega Pizzaplex©. You even get to google conspiracy theories on company time, it’s great.

Your alarm rings, and you feel at least half the joints in your spine crack as you sit up to turn it off. It takes a minute of flailing like an indignant carp before you’re able to roll out of bed and onto your feet. You grab your Fazwatch© (patent pending) from its little charging station and its screen buzzes to life. A few practiced button-taps show you the day’s schedule. All the tours are at the regular times, showing the same schedule as it did last night. Maybe you don’t need to check it as often as you do, but management has made last-minute changes before, and it’s pretty fair to assume it will happen again. For some reason or another, the tour times will sometimes get moved around or cancelled on the day-of. After a month on the job, you’re comfortable enough in your routine to give a tour on 5-minute’s notice. (You had to last Friday. That was a new low, even for Faz-management.) But everything looks fine today, so you shouldn’t have to whip out The Ol’ Fazbear Entertainment Approved Apology Spiel for any poor customers who might miss the sudden change in their tour times.

You once bet $50 that management will try to move a tour to some time in the past. The staff bot that cleans at your end of Rockstar Row is often the recipient of your quips, and it only stopped sweeping for a second to acknowledge your comment. You still aren’t sure if it knows what money is, and you probably don’t have 50 bucks to spare, anyway. You guys can probably just call it even. Besides, you think it found the joke funny (it made a single ‘ha’ sound), so that’s probably all that matters.

You used to be surprised by the number of people you can find in the pizzaplex at the asscrack of dawn, but the magic of the place (and the meticulously crafted ads on kids’ youtube) always attracts a small crowd. Weekdays are pretty quiet in the mornings, but there’s always someone visiting the pizzaplex. It’s a lavish place that probably pays more money for the monthly electricity than you will ever see in your life, but you’re sure the company can afford it easily with the number of guests they get. With how stupidly overpriced some of the stuff is here, you’re sure those guys have plenty of funds to spare. You really don’t get why management will always cut corners and be so cheap, then turn around and drop hundreds of thousands on some shiny new robot. Fickle, those guys.

Anyways, back to your own work:

Thankfully, it’s never too busy back at Rockstar Row during the day when the animatronics are performing or going to private birthday parties. You can hear their music if you listen for it, but all the festivities are distant enough that they don’t disturb you. The voices, cheers, and catchy tunes blend together in a gentle hum-drone of white noise. You keep saying that you’re gonna watch a performance one of these days, but you want to go at a time when you won’t get lost in a sea of pre-teens and their exhausted parents, so you keep putting it off. Usually, none of said pre-teens or parents are hanging around Rockstar Row when you prepare for the day, so you can have your peace of mind as you clock in. You can even whistle a bit of copyrighted music while dusting off the ol’ display cases without getting a single disapproving email from management. Throughout the day, you give a couple of tours down the Row to tell the history and legends of the old Fazbear pizzerias, throwing in some popular conspiracy theories and horror stories for spice. There’s plenty of time in between the tours of this makeshift museum when you usually just sit around in case anybody needs directions or something. All-in-all, it’s a pretty nice job. And you’re pretty darn good at it, too. Nobody knows how to redirect a customer to somebody who actually knows how to help with whatever wild shit happened to their kid quite like you do.

Sometimes, Rockstar Row gets kinda crowded at the end of the day when the animatronics are doing meet-n-greets in their rooms. There aren’t any museum tours at this time (thank Faz), so you get to sit down at your little desk area and watch how these vibrant characters and their equally dazzling personalities capture the attention of the crowds. They’re real pros at what they do; you can’t help but smile at their acts, even from a distance.

There have been a few times when there wasn’t anyone waiting in line to chat with one of the animatronics, so Freddy or Roxy will sometimes come over to say hi when you wave to them. You’ve been hoping to introduce yourself to Monty and Chica, but their rooms aren’t really visible from your corner of Rockstar Row (and you don’t want to intrude when anyone’s busy), so you’re limited to the other two at the moment. Freddy is very popular and very busy, he is the titular character after all, so you’ve probably spoken to Roxy the most. She once expressed gratitude that she doesn’t have to maintain her usual act and energy when she talks with you. It was a pretty serious and vulnerable comment, so you wanted to respond in a positive and encouraging manner. The somewhat goofy thumbs-up that you gave her (clearly not the expected response) made her laugh so hard that Freddy came over, concerned that her voicebox was glitching out. The memory makes you smile as you clock in for the day.

---

On this morning, this perfectly average Tuesday morning, you do a double-take at one of the display cases. Empty. It definitely isn’t supposed to be, so you walk over to take a look at it. You stop a couple of inches away from the glass and squint at it like this is some optical illusion. Yep, definitely empty, no amount of rubber-necking or suspicious glances appear to be changing that. Also, it looks like the top panel has been unceremoniously smashed in. In fact, it took you a perfectly normal amount of time to notice that the whole upper half of the glass box is shattered. Yes. And, like the awe-inspiring detective you are, you start looking around on the floor. You know, just in case the old Chica arm had hopped out of its display case and was lying around somewhere. Okay, so maybe it’s a little hard to wake up on a Tuesday no matter what your job is.

You’re almost surprised that management didn’t tell you about the missing exhibits before your shift, but then you remember how low they keep setting the bar. They probably didn’t know, or didn’t care. You move to check the rest of the displays yourself and see that an original Fredbear top hat has also disappeared. This horrible loss is enough to properly wake you up. That was your favorite exhibit. It was a nice little hat that will be sorely missed. You take a minute to grieve the tragic loss before you see your good pal (the staff bot who you might owe $50 to someday) vacuuming around the golden Roxy statue. You jog over to it and give a little wave.

“Hey! How’s it going?” You say. It turns off the vacuum and looks over at you. It blinks twice and gives you a thumbs-up.

“Happy to hear it! Doesn’t look like you got covered in soda like last week, so that’s good. Hey, if that ever happens again, you can come to me if you need a hand with cleaning it off. I’m getting pretty good with those chem wipes. Also, two of the exhibits are missing: the Chica arm and the old top hat. Do you know anything about that?” You ask, remembering your original mission mid-sentence and pointing at the crime scene. In response, the staff bot looks at the ground for a minute, then tilts its head quizzically. It turns to look down the hallway and makes a little ping sound at a nearby security bot. The security bot comes over and the two of them look at each other silently for a minute. Robot-to-robot conversation, robot-to-robot communication. The security bot looks briefly at the floor like the staff bot did, then the two resume their telepathic chat. You begin to wonder if you should ask again later when they both turn to look at you. The security bot beeps a few times.

“...Did you see anything suspicious around the displays recently?” You offer, guessing at what the security bot is trying to communicate. It shakes its head in response.

“Can you check the security camera footage from last night?” It nodds this time.

“Great! So, do you see anything..?” You wait a moment. Maybe the security bot didn’t hear you? It keeps looking at you but doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. Your fazwatch buzzes on your wrist, and you read the screen, confused.

REQUESTING SECURITY CLEARANCE ...

...

APPROVED

UPDATED SECURITY CLEARANCE FOR: DAYCARE ENTRANCE

Ok. Well, that’s something. But the daycare has been closed for long before you even got hired, and you doubt that whoever stole the two displays would have any reason to put them there. (Our great detective has deemed this a case of larceny, deducing that there iss a thief afoot.)

“The daycare? You want me to go to the old daycare..?” You ask. The security bot nods.

“Shouldn’t I go to the security office for this sort of thing?” It doesn’t respond. Your fazwatch opens the pizzaplex map and begins charting a course for the daycare. There’s your answer, you suppose. The security bot begins rolling back to its post and you shout a quick thank-you. Turning back to your dear friend and colleague, staff bot, you shrug.

“Well, the security bots probably know a lot better than I do. I’ve got about an hour, so I’m gonna go check it out. Wish me luck!” You give it a dramatic little salute. It blinks in acknowledgment and goes right back to vacuuming.

---

It always bothered you that “Floor 1” isn’t always the first floor of a building. Sometimes, it’s literally the second floor. You are reminded of this tragedy as you take the elevator down to the “Ground Level” and step out onto the balcony. (Note that even the “Ground Level” has two levels. Fazbear Entertainment really dropped the ball on this one.) You shuffle out of the elevator, leaving room for the family passing by while checking your faz-map. It says that you just have to go left. And there it is, a large pair of doors labeled “Superstar Daycare Pick-Up”. You’ve never had to go inside, but it still shocks you that you never noticed the entrance before. The lights above the door are off and all the paint is faded, so it’s admittedly hard to spot. You hesitate for a second, just standing there, staring at the door handle. You get the sense that you aren’t supposed to be here, like you’re a child about to get caught doing something that you were told not to. Reminding yourself that you were literally told to come here, you try to shake the feeling. As weird as this whole thing is, you’re pretty curious to see whatever the security bot has sent you to find. Besides, if this yields nothing, you can just stop by the security office and ask somebody else for help. You finally turn the handle and step through the door.

Here you find a large, poorly lit, and lifeless area. There are only a few posters on the walls, lit by bands of neon light. Some are of the band, but you notice several that depict a sun figure and a moon figure. These advertise some “Sundrop” and “Moondrop” candies. You find it weird for the Fazbear advertisement team (faz-vertisement, if you will) to come up with new characters just to promote some candy that you’ve never even heard of. Weird when they will typically do whatever they can to “show the audience our beloved cast of Fazbear Ent. characters that you know and love” (reuse the same old clipart of the animatronics for most ads because, collectively, they do not give a single damn). But here are two characters you have never seen before. Something entirely new. A sun and a moon.

You walk over to the posters and note the layer of dust clinging to them. The sun and moon look very similar in design and are clearly each other’s counterparts. You’re the museum guide, the person who probably knows the most about the pizzaplex’s history, and yet you’ve never heard anything about these two characters. Maybe these were just a part of the daycare’s shtick since the entrance also has a sun and moon on it? You decide to grab a couple of these posters as potential stand-ins for the missing exhibits. Even if you don’t need the interim replacements, you’ll definitely want to look into these characters later.

You pass a little fountain surrounded by the world’s jankiest fake palm trees on the way to the end of the hall. It’s impossible not to marvel at the dichotomy of how cheap or extravagant Fazbear Entertainment can be. There are some lights around the fountain’s edge, but the water isn’t running, just lying quietly at the basin. Your footsteps echo over the checkered PVC floor tiles and the poor lighting doesn’t let you see the ceiling. It looks like it might go on infinitely. This room feels too big. You grip your phone a little tighter.

You eventually come to a big, metal shutter door with a little panel to the right. Using your sleeve, you wipe the dust off the screen. After a few taps, it begins to boot up and update. You are presented with a few options, and “Open Daycare Entrance [A]” immediately catches your eye. You press the button and it makes a little ping sound.

AUTHENTICATING CLEARANCE, PLEASE WAIT…

Your watch buzzes, and you flinch at it, startled. It shows a loading wheel for just a second before the panel beeps again.

STAND CLEAR OF SHUTTERS UNTIL FULLY OPEN

And the metal doors begin to rise. Inside, you spot a golden statue of the sun and moon figures. So they have 3D designs, too. That’s a little too much effort for a couple of candies. This thing looks just as glamorous as the statues of the band members out in Rockstar Row. Impressed, you take a photo and begin walking around this little entrance area filled with chairs. There is a thick net that hangs in front of you with a railing that leaves room for a rainbow slide. The sign above it says “Slide Into Fun!” and points at the opening. Hm. No thanks.

You lean against the railing and look into the massive space beyond the net. There are a bunch of play structures and a massive river of a ball pit that you can barely make out in the dark. You see a small balcony to your right, on the only wall where there is no netting. It is the only place inside that is properly lit, gleaming in the spotlight, but it doesn’t look like there’s any way to get up to it. Over on the left, you think you see a desk. It’s right next to some large wooden doors, and you’re glad to see a normal entrance so you won’t have to use the slide. It could be fun, don’t get me wrong, but thoughts of dashcon ricochet around your brain as you envision the ball pit at the end. You choose to think about something else. Like your mission! Yes. You’re here to… well, you’re not really sure. Find whatever the security bot wants you to find, I guess. It’s darker in this area, feeling even more abandoned than the fountain area before. You can’t really see, but you doubt that the (potential) thief would choose to stick around in the building, so you don’t think that’s what you’re looking for here. There’s no one else in the entrance area, so you’ll have to go inside the daycare to see if there’s anyone you can talk to. Maybe there’s a security bot who guards the place, and maybe it knows what happened. So, to get inside, you’ll have to make your way down some stairs and circle around the walled-in (netted-in?) daycare area to get to those doors.

Said doors feel a lot taller when you’re right in front of them. It’s a little intimidating, to be honest. From here, you can see the corners of the mechanisms that open the door, and you’re glad that the doorknobs about 20 feet up are just ornamental. This does, unfortunately, leave you with no idea of how to actually open the doors. The thought of flailing about to grab those doorknobs gives you a laugh, at least. For lack of a better idea, you knock on the door.

“Anybody here? Knock knock.” You say to yourself, trying to come up with a plan to get in. You most certainly don’t expect a reply.

“Who’s there?” Rings a response in a muffled, robotic voice. This makes you jump like a cat. There really is something in there, and it’s definitely not a security bot. But that doesn’t sound like the voice of anybody in the band; it has a completely different intonation and almost rumbles at the end of its words. Each of the glamrocks has a distinctive voice, and this doesn’t match any of them. And, above all else, it just set you up for a knock-knock joke. Now this is serious. It’s one thing to meet a mystery robot in an abandoned area of a technologically-unmatched pizzaplex, but it’s something else to get the perfect set-up for a real bad pun. You’re gonna have to think hard about this one, pull out all the stops. You could use the ol’ classic “Boo-who” but that’s too basic, too predictable. There’s one about yodeling, but you don’t remember how the second part goes, so you’ll have to improvise a bit.

You settle with a “Wa.”

A few clicks resound behind those doors. You take a small step away from whatever they came from.

Your mysterious interlocutor responds after a moment, sounding genuinely curious:

“Wa who?”

“Mario, is that you?” You offer, hoping that your improvised punch-line makes sense. After a second, a hearty chuckle echoes from inside the daycare. There’s a rumble as the doors before you start to swing open (which makes you jump again, but this time it feels more like the frantic wiggle of a disgruntled worm than the hop of a cat). The doors open slowly, making you wait a moment before gingerly taking a step inside and looking around.

The darkness is almost complete in here, and the air feels heavy. There is a particularly dark area around the play structure right in front of you, casting even more shadows around itself. Within that darkness, you see a wavering, orange glow. Two pinpricks of light loom above you, shining down from this structure. You realize that this must be your new “friend.”

“I’ve never heard that one before,” It muses, “but I don’t think it’s legally advisable for any Fazbear Entertainment staff to mention Mario by name. Copyright infringement is against the rules.”

You realize that the glowing orange points are a pair of eyes. Eyes that are firmly locked on you during the slow tilt of its head. There are some other glowing areas around them, but they’re dim enough that you can’t make out their shapes.

“Ah, right. Definitely wouldn’t want to cause a lawsuit.” Your voice doesn’t even echo in this cavernous space. You are suddenly made very aware that you’re completely alone with this thing. In the dark. Pretty far away from anyone. Spooky, but you’re being so brave about it.

The eyes before you do a whirling clockwise spin while the entire patch of orange glow moves rhythmically downwards. You hear something land gently on the floor with the rattle of a bell, crouching to absorb the impact. Those eyes are still on you, and you don’t think they’ve blinked at all. You are aware of how difficult it would be to evacuate this area. Deeply aware.

“Can’t have any guests overhearing the unlicensed use of another company’s character, now can we? Well, we’re alone in here, so I suppose I could let it slide…” The voice gives a dramatic hum as the stranger stands up, eyes rising to a height that towers over you.

“And I did like the joke... Alright, we can overlook this one. But you should be more careful, you know. I’m sure it would be a terrible hassle if Nintendo tried to sue the company again.” There’s a creak of metal and plastic as the figure seems to lean to the left, chuckling to itself. A few bells ring from the light source as its shoulders bounce with the laugh. Then, you hear a gasp.

“Oh- Now where are my manners? This is no way to welcome our new guest!” It speaks with a completely different energy, standing upright again.

“Do forgive me, and allow me to introduce myself properly!” There’s a tap-tap-tap of steps as those luminous eyes get closer. You shuffle backward and tense at the sudden approach, arms raised defensively. This thing sounds kind enough, but hearing a massive metallic creature approach you from the dark and seeing nothing but its glowing eyes is pretty fucking scary.

Seeing your reaction, it comes to a stop. Now that it’s closer, you can see its eyes flash with a concerned look that darts around your face before landing nervously on the ground. It almost looks like it’s deflating, the way the lights seem to shrink in on themselves. You hear quiet, rapid taps from where you imagined its hands might be held, fidgeting.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry! Did I frighten you? Goodness- that’s no good, no good at all-” It keeps stumbling over its terse apologies, slowly backing away. Its body language makes it seem so much smaller than you, even though this colossal silhouette is obviously anything but. Those eyes are squinted in what might be the start of panic, or dejection. Oh great. We gave the poor robot anxiety.

“No, no, it’s fine- I just got a little, uh... Surprised because I can’t really see what’s happening and I don’t know what-” You’re cut off by the sound of a whack sound coming from the animatronic’s face. You realize it just facepalmed.

“Of course! Oh, how silly of me, how ridiculous! I can’t very well introduce myself if you can’t even see me, now can I? Here- Give me just a moment-” It turns and disappears into the daycare, its muttering growing distant. You notice that, despite the bells you heard before, it was nearly silent as it left. After a moment of wondering if you should be worried, a click reverberates from above as the lights buzz to life. This causes you to squint for a minute, feeling just as blind as when you were in the dark. You blink until your eyes adjust and look into the now-illuminated daycare. The entire space looks much more inviting in the light; everything popping with color and life. Now, you can finally get a good look at the animatronic who’s approaching, more sheepishly this time.

It’s easy to tell that they're at least 8 feet tall, even though they bow their head to appear less intimidating. It folds its hands together in the same way that an old lady might when she’s saying something sweet, except this colossal robot has four arms to work with. Double the gesture, double the sentiment, I guess. You think those fingertips might be pointed, but you’re choosing not to look too close. Its face is round with a crescent shape on the inside and two rows of triangles on the outside. You get the impression of one of those sun/moon theater masks: one that might be happy on one side, then sad on the other. There’s a large nightcap sitting at an angle on its head; the end of it rests on his shoulder and sways slightly with each step. All of the robot’s clothing look soft and flowy, giving it a very gentle and elegant appearance. Whatever plastic its face is made of, it’s clearly malleable, allowing the animatronic to make minute shifts in its expression for a precise demonstration of emotions. You have to admit, whoever designed the animatronics here is some kind of genius.

“There. Let me try one more time.” It sighs with an apologetic smile.

The half-sun, half-moon character stops before you and gives a dignified bow, the motion smooth and practiced.

“My name is Eclipse, I am the caretaker of the Superstar Daycare. It’s very nice to meet you. Welcome, and sorry again for the poor first impression.” They address you. Their smile is so genuine that you can’t help but mirror it as you return the greeting, introducing yourself in turn.

“Come in, come in! Make yourself at home! Here, allow me to get you a seat-” They respond, visibly straightening up now that they know that there’s no hard feelings. You know that they literally glow, but they still seem so radiant with their rejuvenated spirit. That smile of theirs definitely got wider, and they move with a skip in their steps. They pull up two of the few adult-sized chairs and set them by a small, plastic table. It stands by one of the chairs and gestures for you to sit, intending to push in your chair for you. It’s pointedly gentle with this, too, even speaking slightly quieter because you were closer. You have to admit, this Eclipse is quite a charming host, and a fascinating character. After you are seated, they sit in their own chair and rest their upper pair of arms on the table between you, tapping their fingers rhythmically. The anxiety from before is gone, but an excited energy still dances behind those eyes.

“We don’t get a lot of guests, so it truly is an honor! Is there anything I can help you with, my dear guest?” He asks, tilting his head a little.

“Yes, actually,” You begin, “I’m the tour guide for the museum area along Rockstar Row, and two of the exhibits disappeared last night. The cases were broken, so it looks like they might have been stolen. I tried to ask one of the nearby security bots about it, and it sent me here to learn more.” You point at your faz-watch and Eclipse looks truly enraptured by your every word.

“I see! Terribly sorry to hear about the exhibits, but that does explain a thing or two. I just got a request to authorize someone’s security clearance to come in here. I didn’t know what it could possibly be for, but I guess that must have been you!”

“Yeah! Though I still don’t get why they wanted me to come here. Especially when there’s a dedicated security office for this sort of thing.” You admit. Eclipse chuckles at that and rests its chin in one of its hands, its eyes narrowing with a cheeky flaire.

“If I had to guess, that would be because I’m the head of security, here at the Pizzaplex.” His grin seems to widen at your surprise. He titters briefly before continuing, each laugh lighter than the flutter of a moth’s wing.

“Yes, funny how the head of security isn’t in the security office, isn’t it? Well, there’s rarely anything that requires my input down there. Though, I wonder why they didn’t just show you the camera footage when you asked, even if you aren’t security personnel-” He trails off, closing his eyes for a moment. His brows furrow and his smile slips for just a moment.

“Ah. So that’s why… But surely it would have…” They go quiet for a little longer, eyes flickering about beneath their eyelids. They hum quizzically as they open their eyes and look back at you with an unreadable expression.

“It looks like there are no recordings from the Rockstar Row’s security cameras from last night… But I’m certain I was able to see through them at the time, and I didn’t receive any kind of notifications about them malfunctioning later… That’s…” It gives a defeated laugh.

“It looks like I’ll have to investigate a bit more thoroughly, then.” They conclude, shrugging with their second pair of arms.

“Well then! I’ll be in contact if I find anything, but you should go get ready for today’s tours.” He waves a hand and you feel your faz-watch buzz in response. On the screen, you see a message from Eclipse that just says “Hello :)” from a messaging app that management occasionally contacts you with. On the time above the notification, you can see that there are only 10 minutes until the first tour starts. Oh shit. You need to get moving. Eclipse springs to his feet and motions you to the door with a flourish of all four arms.

“Feel free to message me if you need anything else, we’re always happy to help. It’s truly been lovely meeting you, and good luck with today’s tours!” They conclude with a showman’s poise. You thank them as you hurry out the door, to the stairs. Before leaving the daycare, you turn to give the grand play area one last glance, hoping to wave to Eclipse on the way out. You aren’t able to spot them, just a metal cable unfurling from the ceiling, falling to a point behind one of the play structures. Then, the lights go out, leaving you in a little hollow of light around the golden sun and moon statue. It’s a bit sad that you couldn’t say another goodbye, but you decide you’ll make up for it when you aren’t possibly running late for work. You are very grateful for the reminder, but you’re certain you never told them when the first tour was starting.

- - -

You return to Rockstar Row with 7 minutes to spare. Thankfully, your favorite staff bot has been kind enough to clean up the broken glass around the missing exhibits while you were gone. You make a mental note to thank them later, then make a physical note to place by the exhibits:

“This exhibit is temporarily absent for routine maintenance and repairs” You write with your best handwriting and hope that it sounds official enough that the guests won’t interrogate you about it. You are so caught up in thinking about excuses you can give people or where you might find a temporary replacement that you don’t notice the heavy footsteps that stop right behind you.

“Hey, heads up. Somebody’s gonna walk right into ya if you’re spacing out in the middle of the walkway.” A voice snaps you out of it. You turn to see a pair of nonchalant, red eyes looking down at you over a pair of star-shaped shades. The legendary Montgomery Gator himself stands in front of you, with one hand on his hip and his head tilted like he’s somewhere between casual and completely uninterested.

“Right, yeah. Didn’t mean to get in your way, sorry.” You take a step back, out of the way, shaking your head once to clear your mind like an etch-a-sketch.

“Don’t sweat it.” Monty adjusts his sunglasses. You expect the animatronic to keep walking, but he’s still looking at you, so you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, you’re the museum guide, right? Not that you can call this handful of trinkets much of a museum... I heard you got hired a while back, but I never got the chance to see for myself. So, I’m Monty.” It seems he’s landed on casual over disinterested as he holds out his hand for a handshake. You return it, both of you giving a firm couple of shakes and feeling some mutual respect for it. It isn’t every day that someone returns a nice, solid handshake with the same amount of gusto.

“It’s nice to finally meet you! I was trying to find the time to properly introduce myself, but this works, too. And yeah, we lost two exhibits last night, so the museum’s looking even more sparse than usual. Not really sure how I’m going to fill the tour time I usually spend on those, but I’ve only got 5 minutes to figure it out.” You say, shaking your head and shrugging in exaggerated defeat.

“Yeah, I noticed the empty cases. That’s tough. Someone should probably remove the broken glass, though; some kid’s gonna get hurt on that. So, did somebody steal ‘em?” He asks. He’s nonchalant about it, but he seems genuinely interested. Maybe there’s a secret passion for gossip and drama under that rough exterior... Or maybe he’s just concerned for everyone’s safety. Either way, his eyes are still locked on you.

“That’s what it seems like, but I’m not sure. I asked around and nobody seems to know what happened- the staff bots were even saying that they can’t access the security footage from last night… Well, I’m sure this incident has already been reported or logged in whatever system, so it’s probably out of my hands. Still, I’m gonna ask around for any signs of a break-in. Oh, speaking of, did you see anything weird last night?” You realize just how little you know about the situation as you recount everything, it’s all so odd. Monty immediately shrugs and shakes his head at your question, which is only a little disappointing.

“Nope, I did a little patrolling around the atrium last night, but I spent most of my free time playin’ the bass.” He says, making air guitar motions for emphasis. Suddenly, he flashes a playful smile, then gives you a suspicious side-eye.

“Hey, you think I’m a suspect or something? This is startin’ to feel like an interrogation- I do have an alibi if you’re not convinced by my testimony, detective.” He makes sure to bitterly enunciate every syllable of the word. If he wasn’t smiling, you might think he was being serious, but you play along.

“Hmm, I really can’t rule it out… Anyone could be the perp- even me! No one suspects the detective, after all!” You dramatically wiggle your fingers at him, to which he feigns a shocked gasp. It’s incredible how these guys can make such realistic breath sounds with their voiceboxes.

“We should’a known it was you, you connivin’ little punk!” He really hams up the act, pointing at you and everything. You laugh a couple times, internally commending his dedication to the bit. Even though you just met, he’s joking around with you like you’re old friends. It’s nice to be treated like you’re a cool dude without having to prove anything, and Monty immediately gives you that respect. You appreciate it.

“Seriously though: I don’t think you could wear the tophat with that mohawk of yours, and god knows what you would even need an old Chica arm for. So, I think you’re off the hook for now.” You gaze off towards your desk and the exhibits nearby it. There appears to be a small crowd gathering over there. You’re wondering what that’s all about when it strikes you.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna be late for the tour.” You say, deadpan. After a beat, you start running over to your desk, dodging a kid. You don’t turn around, but you briefly look over your shoulder to say goodbye.

“See ya later, alligator!” Which works doubly well because he really is an alligator. You catch an amused Monty in the corner of your eye, and it seems like he gets the joke when he barks a single laugh.

“In a while, crocodile!” He shouts after you.

#IFOTH #eclipse x reader #fnaf dca x reader #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf eclipse #fnaf security breach #fnaf #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf sb

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heyitssashag · 5 months

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I got my lab results today and my tumour markers dropped 14 points. (It’s a Christmas miracle! lol) They’ve escalated every month since July so to see a sudden drop was weird. I have no idea why. I could theorize but I’m just going to take it as a win and move along.

Last weekend was the Christmas dinner book club meeting. It was so much fun. I haven’t laughed that hard for a long time. We did a gift exchange. We’re not really supposed to spend money on it - it’s just for fun. It could have been anything. I ended up getting a sweary colouring book off of Amazon for $7. The lady who got my gift is in her mid-70’s and when she read the cover “You are Fucking Beautiful”, everyone started to howl. She just ran with it and read all the other pages. It’s so funny to see our “elders” swear like a trucker. lol. (When my 94-year-old Oma talks about someone being an “asshole” I can’t help but chuckle.)

Anyway, it’s been a busy few weeks and I’m wiped out. I think I’ve been dealing with allergies which doesn’t help my energy. They’ve been coming in waves for the past 6 weeks so I know it’s not a cold.

My aunt and uncle on the mainland came down with Covid so we won’t be going there for New Year’s, now. I’m not sure if I’m going to bother to head out to my Dad’s. That would be a lot of travelling to stay a night. (I’m not really interested in staying longer than that.) Especially during cold/flu season. The ferry is a giant sneeze castle, too and it’ll be packed. So, I may reschedule for later in January when things calm down.

My Gofundme/fundraiser has gone well so far. Because of it, I was able to see the dentist this week and I’ll be going back to get my fancy night guard made in January (it’ll be for the bottom teeth and made thinner). This thing is going to cost around $700. lol. I also will be seeing a new physiotherapist that specializes in TMJ next month. I’ll have to go at least once a week and at $130 a pop, that adds up quick. If those things don’t work, then I’ll have to see the TMJ surgeon. Unfortunately, that runs into the thousands so fingers crossed the first two work. I’m super grateful to everyone’s generosity and support. I’ve had a lot of encouragement over the past few weeks since I’ve started it as well which makes me feel good, too.

Today, I went to comedy class online. I didn’t have any new jokes. I wasn’t good at giving feedback to others, either. It’s hard when you feel like the life’s been sucked out of you. It was nice to show up and see everyone, though. I told them one of my goals is to do more live/in-person shows. I haven’t done one in a long time. I can’t keep waiting to “feel better” because that day will likely never come. I need to find a way to do this. I think a big issue is my sleep. I’ve been having problems falling asleep before 1am. Sometimes it’s as late as 3am. Then I have to be up at 7. Having cancer, I need more than that. So I’ll be working on it.

I can’t believe 2024 is just over a week away. It’s New Year’s resolution time! 😝 I haven’t made a resolution in well over a decade. Do people even do them anymore? Maybe I’ll create a poll below and see. lol. Because of my health, it’s hard to even set goals because things are always changing BUT I’m going to try, anyway. Maybe I’ll post them here (closer to January 1st) to keep myself accountable and maybe write a monthly update on how it’s going. I doubt it’ll work but whatever. I’m trying. 😆

I’ve read a few books this month and watched some movies but I’m too tired to stare at my phone any longer to write reviews so I’ll do that later. I did re-watch Serendipity for like… the 20th year in a row. lol. It’s my favourite rom-com and I rewatch it every Christmas. (Just one of my little guilty pleasures.)

Now, I’m going to drink my tea and read my book as per usual.

#metastatic breast cancer #blogging on my blog #new years resolution #life update #my boring day

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papermonkeyism · 1 year

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For the new year, I wish I'll get to hang out with people again.

This past year has been, frankly, pretty miserable, specially since early summer-ish when my DnD group went on a months long break. Wasn't the first one, nor the last one, but definetely the worst one. Don't really have other friends locally, aside from one old school mate.

Honestly it's been pretty bad ever since the start of the pandemic when we stopped hanging out outside of DnD sessions and my fave coffee places closed down along with couple of my fave restaurants, and I just... Stopped having a social life, but now it's so much worse. As said, I have one (1) friend outside of the group I sometimes go shopping with, and one of my DnD buddies hangs out with me maybe once a week to borrow my laundry machine for couple hours, and they are probably the only reasons I haven't broken completely so far.

But neither of them are storytelling people the same way I am, so I'm kinda holding back when we hang out, as I can't really go all in with my special interests on them.

Downsides of being socially awkward introvert.

The summer break from roleplaying was a trigger for anxiety and maybe the worst creative block of my life so far. As someone who basically thinks with a sketchbook it was pretty fucking stressful not being able to draw anything for several months!

I crave creation and storytelling, but my brain is made of goo. Like imagine if someone came and asked you to pick a water from a pool and hand it to them? But it's liquid! Can I get a cup or something, but they just scoff. You got hands, right, just pick one up and hand it over. So I'm just left trying to scoop handfuls of wet and grabbing nothing. Kinda how it feels.

Started marathoning Crit Role to distract myself from the worst of it and to have at least some kind of creative energy in my life, and consumed what must be over half a thousand hours of role playing. At least that was fun!

And when nights started stretching and seasonal depression started to creep into my already not-doing-good brain I started my routine of evening walks because at some point I was legitimately going stir crazy enough to explode otherwise.

It's also been my first full year of joblessness in a long while. I was already having hard time by the end of last year, because my brain has difficulty handling full time jobs for long stretches of time, and ten months in a row not being able to recharge was starting to weight on me, so I had made a plan to get my brain sorted out with the ADHD diagnosis and hopefully medication before applying for jobs again, but turns out the process took the entire year, and then some, and I still don't have the meds yet. I have been given the thumbs up on them, but turns out me stressing for the better part of a year has triggered blood pressure problems (runs in my family, so honestly probably just a matter of time, but it's still very inconvenient to happen right now), so I have to sort that out first before it's safe to try stimulant medication.

And then there was the death in the family and a close friend's cancer diagnosis (fingers crossed!) and I just haven't had a great time, you know.

January's going to go into medical stuff in the hope of getting the ADHD meds, so maybe I could one day grab those thoughts again. The unemployment office is also pestering me again, so we'll see how that'll go.

I think I'll see if I can make myself a regular at the new cat cafe in town. Cats make everything better. Also looking forwards to actualizing a tattoo plan or two! Springtime is coming too, eager to continue my evening walk routine with returning sunlight. And I really, really, really need to create something again.

So here's for what I sincerely hope to be a better year than this past one! Cheers.

#shut up paper

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leaahhh · 8 months

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here are some of the songs that soundtracked my summer

maps by the yeah yeah yeahs because i have a secret theory that you must pay attention to the songs that play in the background of a first date because they might be premonitions. it was one of the first that came on the day we met. you were quieter then and everyone knew your name. i overslept far past my welcome that first night and maybe that should have been more telling than the song. maybe i shouldn’t have given myself over so quickly. maybe i should’ve listened to tyler. maybe maybe maybe a lot of things. still, i laughed the whole way home. my kind's your kind, i'll stay the same.

acolyte by slaughter beach, dog because it is one of the only unabashed love songs i can listen to several times in a row without recoiling. it is the best song to wash the dishes to, to walk into the sunset with, to believe in kinder things because of.

group four by massive attack because the man i was seeing at the time played it once at the bar he worked at. i visited several nights a week, it became part of my routine: something to rush around for, a soft place to land. i was mesmerized from the jump, it was all i could fixate on for its full eight minute runtime — the song and also him, flitting back and forth in the dim red light. (i played it for S a few days later, saying it was the best thing i’d ever heard — he didn’t like it, said it was scary.) i remember going into the bathroom and stabilizing myself in the mirror prematurely thinking that i’d miss coming here when it all ended. each time i was met with eyes a little more vacant. a self-fulfilling prophecy. (i’m at a different bar alone now writing this. your coworker spotted me, came over, and reminded me that you’re working there tonight. i shook my head and he said “oops” three times.)

lost angel nights by james blake and alphabet city by the national because they say the quiet part loud. they made me feel justified in my self-abandonment and my masterful act of pretending to be okay with distance and mistreatment. “away from me is just fine.” “if anybody asks, i’ll say you’re coming back.” “i’ll still be here when you come back from space.” it’s not true. it shouldn’t be. but love is this way sometimes.

montana by youth lagoon because J brought it up around 3am at a bar in bushwick and before then i hadn’t thought of it in many, many years. she joked that i should play it next to your ear while you were asleep that night because it might rewire your brain. i laughed hard then but later it made me want to cry. a couple months after, her and i sat on a couch backstage with T before he played a sold out show in brooklyn. i told him i think i might’ve met you just so i could meet her. i do believe it.

this house by japanese breakfast because a friend posted it on her instagram story right after going through a bad breakup and i listened to it eating dinner alone at the neighborhood fast casual korean restaurant staring out the open front door while hot air hit my face and it felt like i was hearing music for the first time. what if one day i don’t know you? what if one day you leave? i could sense it was coming but i came over for a kiss despite it all. i really learned about liquid courage with you and i probably never needed to befriend it so closely. when we were together, my head was always spinning; my nose always stung.

very overdue goodbye by runo plum because my friends all know i prefer dragged out, tortuous storylines over clean-cut endings and rightfully shake their heads. i’ve never gotten over a thing in my life, i tell david in a frankly unhinged voice message that closes with me laughing pathetically, squeezing in at the end that i hope the baby is healthy. it is the last friday night of summer. he says that 26 is the new 18, that i am the one making bad decisions, *i* am not the bad decision. he tells me to stand up for myself. it takes me several weeks but i listen. you made being alone feel so clean. i see you more as a pile-up of my own grief.

to me it was by samia because the guitar gives me goosebumps all over. eliza and i have used the format “everything with ____ is totally fine/don’t freak out, it’s gonna be alright” back and forth all month to punctuate every nervous interaction. we ended up being wrong a lot of the time, there was absolutely reason to freak out. samia was right though; maybe i didn’t need tequila for that. someday i think i’ll look back and remember this as a good time. right now it just hurts.

blue flower by mazzy star because it reminds me of my favorite line in that other song that makes me think about that other guy: i had a fever when i met you; now you make me cool. you were a superstar in your own private movie and i wanted just a minor part. ang is the first person to call it by its name: cruelty. i sweltered and seethed while you slipped away.

street rat by blondshell because i fell back into my old habits as quickly as i’d tried to kick them as soon as you entered the scene. if a doctor put her hands over my liver she would tell me my resentment’s getting…bigger. i felt a lump, hard and unforgiving, growing there. my back tooth turned brown and started rotting the day you disappeared. Z yelped at me from across the street when he saw me and said i’m withering in front of his eyes. it’s a race to see who dies first and you’ve got five years on me. (as i’m typing this, the bar has begun playing sepsis by blondshell. it feels almost evil. it really should’ve taken a whole lot less to turn me off.)

split up by boyish because i could have said all of this word-for-word in that text message. i kept it short for both of our dignities.

aspirin - slight return by tropical fuck storm because christian responded with just the link to that after i ranted for 5 minutes straight about my rapid descent into madness. it was a perfect response. i’m a harrowing rest stop for the men i date. disarming enough to trip them up. not enough to make them stay.

moon song by phoebe bridgers because after three years of knowing it so well, i heard it entirely differently one night and it nearly rendered me immobile. you asked to walk me home but i had to carry you. you pushed me in and now my feet can’t touch the bottom of you. i would have stuck around, by the way. like a dog with a bird at your door.

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short-hot-stories · 1 month

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Morning Sex With Maria

Reminiscing about a past tryst of amazing sex and orgasms.

by JackOfDiamonds. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories

Full Title: My Most Powerful Orgasms : Morning Sex With Maria

I recall the "Wonder Years" of early adulthood, the time when I had graduated college, had an apartment of my own and my first real "career" job. It was an exciting time when the small struggles of independence had a feeling of freshness and fun.

It was the mid 90's - I doubt anyone living in that era would refer to it as simple. When I look back today I see there was a simple innocence to not maybe the time, but within myself.

I was working at a third shift Operations Center. The job was in the emerging tech field, yet like everything overnight there are busy times and slow times. The Center was functional, but was also a show piece for our technology built with mock-up settings of Airplanes, trains, and limousines.

[[MORE]]

Every once in a while I would get a knock at my security door, and it would be a manager or executive bringing a date to show them the mock airline. I'll save those stories for another time...

I was young, the job was fun, yet socializing was tough since I moved to a new city and worked an overnight shift. I simply was not meeting anyone new.

Since the Center was such a cool place, when I would start my shift (around 8PM) there were usually a few employees hanging-out. My section was an area where smoking was permitted (yes believe it or not you could smoke in offices in the mid-90's), so people would naturally gravitate to my work area.

We were a young company with relatively young employees, several of my coworkers became my closest friends at the time. One night while we were sitting around one of the sales guys was asking me how my dating life was going, and I laughingly said it wasn't. He brought out a phone/newspaper/personals section from a local paper. I felt a little weird but with some coaxing I set-up an ad and a voice mailbox. I met a couple of women through the service, the odd part is that all the women I talked to said they were busy professionals. The two I met in person were attractive. The second of which became my girlfriend, and that's where this particular story will focus.

So I met Maria through the newspaper personals. We had been dating for a month, after talking on the phone to "get-to-know" each other for a week or so prior to dating.

I got into a groove where I would get to work around 8PM, establish order, knock out what I could immediately then Maria would call around 9PM before she went to bed. I was working Friday night into Saturday morning, and Maria wanted me to come over first thing in the morning. I would typically get out of work around 6AM, and hopefully there would be light morning rush hour traffic because it was the weekend. I would be driving towards the city, so sometimes it could be hit-or-miss on how long it takes to get to her place.

Maria lived in an apartment over a small row of shops. She had a couple neighbors but the place was always quiet, and calm. I liked going to her place after work because I could usually sleep well with little disturbances. However she made it clear to me that I would not be allowed to sleep when I got there.

This particular evening I called Maria around 9PM. She told me she was excited to see me in the morning, since it had been a long week for both of us and our schedules did not permit us to see each other (she worked a day shift). Maria had subtle ways of talking seductively, without being overtly "dirty", yet saying things in just the right way to get the blood rushing. She would use softly spoken expressions sometimes mixed with a blunt reality. Her voice was low, yet not husky, but always very sexy to me.

This call she told me that she was wearing my shirt to bed, and my scent was fading. She needed me to come over so she could bury her face in me. She told me she was excited to see me in the morning, and that I should call right before I leave so she knows when I may be getting there.

We hung up after our brief call, and I went about my work night.

During the night, knowing I would be going to Maria's I made a second pot of coffee. By the time my relief arrived, I was coffee wired. The solitude made for a weird physical feeling of being tired from the length of a long week, yet wanting nothing more than to be with Maria. I gave her a quick call. She was waking up while on the phone and told me to drive safe and she would be waiting.

I drove towards the rising sun, the traffic was a typical rush hour weekend. I made it to Maria's about 30 minutes after leaving the office. I was wired, I was tired, and I was horny. I walked quickly up the stairs to Maria's apartment, it was a quiet morning, and the sunlight was low, making the hallway glow.

I knocked on the door, Maria must have heard me coming up the stairs as the door started to open immediately as my knuckles left the door. Maria was wearing my shirt. It was a plain white t-shirt that draped her like a dress. Maria has an extremely small frame and was just under 5 feet tall.

Back before Shakira found international fame, she was a young dark haired beauty you would see on the local spanish speaking networks. I would often stop in my tracks, because she could have been Maria's twin.

Maria had a smile that was always like a smirk, and when she smiled it made my insides flutter, she looked up at me and softly said, hey.... (in her low alto seductiveness)

I swooped down and kissed her, with a passionate needy kiss that was returned with the same desire. I knew I wanted Maria, but being in her presence again lit me on fire! I couldn't pull my lips back from hers for even a moment. I pulled her up tight to me as I kept kissing her with a deep neediness - I was walking forward as she was walking backwards. We made it quickly through her living room and stopped when we hit her kitchen counter. I pulled her up and set her on the counter as I continued to roll my tongue in her mouth. Our kisses were so passionate they crept to the edge of looking violet, but always felt so reassuring, as her passion raged to the same height as mine.

As I kissed her, I pulled off her panties. And let them fall the the kitchen floor. I then reached around from letting my hand quickly move down her small soft patch of hair to her soft wet lips, I easily entered her with a soft slide of my first and second fingers into her. I loved the way Maria felt inside. She was soft and her wetness was slick and smooth. As I felt her excitement, mine was raging in my pants. I could feel my cock throbbing.

All the time we were kissing, sucking ravenously from our lips to our necks, back to our mouths. Maria unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans. Her hand quickly grabbed my cock and was stroking me fast and hard. My cock was slick with my own precum, I couldn't control how my juices flowed for Maria. Our passion was boiling in the moment; I pulled her a little closer to me, so she was sitting on the very edge of the counter as I entered her. Mmmmm, I moaned as I felt her slick warmness engulf me, I held her close, and she held me tighter. Her moans were in rhythm with her breathing which was becoming shallow and fast.

Maria rapidly moved her hand off of me for a moment to pull off her shirt. She grabbed my shirt and pulled it off too. She pushed her bare chest against mine and I could feel her swollen nipples warmly against me.

I pulled her off of the counter, she was wrapped around me tightly with my cock still deep in her. I walked her from the kitchen, around the corner to her bed. I kicked off my shoes, and she started pulling my jeans down further. I manager to kick them off the rest of the way while still inside her, and still rocking and pumping. I could feel Maria getting wetter. She would get so wet and turned on I would feel slick from my belly button to my balls - It turned me on sooo much! I was so hard inside her as we kissed and sucked, I loved sucking Maria's lips, and her neck. II rolled my back as I flexed inside her, she pulled away to announce, "I'm coming!", followed by oh, oh, oh!

I kept rocking into Maria, I held her legs up a little higher as I pushed deep slowly riding through her orgasm. Usually I'm quick on the trigger with Maria, yet I can fuck through my refactory stage to get her off. Not today, the long shift and extra coffee had me wired. I kept rolling with her, she latched on to my nipple sucking it hard in her mouth as I plunged into her, and then it happened again, she announced, "I'm Cumming AGAIN!" with a long low ahhhhh, that followed.

I rode her orgasm, feeling her wonderful contractings on my throbbing cock, as she rolled her hips I looked down and seeing me deep in her was a magnificent sight.. She then stopped, and told me to roll off of her, so I did. I could tell she was racked with the sensation of her orgasms and tipping over the point of being over stimulated and needing a momentary break.

I laid on my back, and Maria rolled on me. She lowered her hand and mouth to my glistening cock. I'm an average sized man, yet Maria was tiny, her little hands made me look huge. The visual was amazing. At that moment she was the most beautiful woman on the planet. She held my cock and would make small little tugs with her hand as she sucked rhythmically on the top third. My head was in her mouth and the soft sensitive area just underneath was being rolled on by her tongue. Maria didn't bob her head when she went down, she would slowly lower and raise as she sucked, her hand would make small tugs upward as if she was trying to milk me into her mouth. And did that ever work!

I started to grunt "I'm gonna cum!" Maria started quickening the pace of her sucking and pulling, and with that I started to clench all over. My orgasm hit hard and felt like my body was a bass drum beating boom, boom, boom, with each pulse of the cum leaving my body. I couldn't see my orgasm as she kept tight to me sucking it down, the intensity was overwhelming, I clenched and felt like I was being electrified with intensity and pleasure. I could hear the beating in my ear with each jut of cum leaving me. The intensity of the pleasure grew so much, that after it felt as though I shot my final load, I had to pull Maria off of me. She fell on me, her hair on my arm, her lips on my chest, kissing my chest, and moaning in a low alto.

I laid there, feeling my pulse fast, as I rolled my fingers through her hair. We were both speechless. The morning was still quiet and glowing as I held Maria, drifting into a slow session of holding each other in complete satisfaction.

To date that was one of the most powerful orgasms I had ever felt in my life. As Maria and I would reminisce she would often tell me her orgasms with me were the strongest she has ever had.

by JackOfDiamonds for Literotica

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100dayproductivity · 3 months

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28/100.

Oh boy. Need to regroup. Need to get thoughts out of head.

Outline:

Procrastination

Bullet journaling (BuJo)

Tiredness

Urban homesteading

(I'm just starting out this post as a rough draft so I don't think about it too much. Sometimes thinking is an obstacle to doing!)

Procrastination

Main points:

Been procrastinating A LOT again lately.

Need to look into why.

Usually, for me, procrastination means I'm feeling overwhelmed. Why am I feeling overwhelmed? I'm not sure. Will circle back to this. Let's keep going.

Another reason I procrastinate is because I'm avoiding an unpleasant task. What is the unpleasant task I'm avoiding? Honestly, all I can think of is the dishes. Well, not specifically the dishes, just chores in general. I'm so bored of it. Zero motivation to work towards making my home pleasant (which is basically my main goal currently).

But I was doing so well just a couple of weeks ago! I was on fire 🔥🔥🔥 What happened? Not sure. Let's come back to this.

Bullet Journaling (BuJo)

I started my first bullet journal last month. It was working out great! I felt so inspired! And I was getting so much done. And I felt so organized and efficient. I haven't touched it in weeks, though. What happened?

I think I know what happened. Eye surgery happened. (I had cataract surgery.) Leading up to the surgery, I was so nervous and had so many things to keep track of to get ready for it. The bullet journaling really helped me get all my ducks in a row and not forget anything important. It was such a useful tool! But post-surgery, my eyes needed time to adjust. The eye that had the surgery needed to rest and heal. The one that didn't have the surgery needed to learn how to work with the new eye. I still need to wear a contact lens in that eye, and can no longer wear glasses when I take the contact out. I can't really do any reading or writing once I take that contact lens out at night. And with the contact lens in, everything was really wonky at first. Walking outside and looking in the distance made me dizzy.

So because of all this wonky eyesight stuff, I didn't want to do any more reading or writing than necessary. So I put the bullet journal aside. I didn't have anything important coming up that I needed to keep track of, just my schedule, which is in my phone calendar.

Well, my eyesight is still a bit wonky, but definitely much better now. I pretty much read and write and use my phone as normal now. So there's no excuse to not use the bullet journal again.

But now that weeks have passed it's hard to get back into it. Why? Maybe because I feel like I've failed with it. But I really shouldn't feel that way! Just because I haven't used it in nearly a month doesn't mean I can't use it again now!

Maybe it's also hard to get back into because I'm dreading writing down all the stuff I should have been doing but haven't done. Where's the sense in that, though? Just because I don't write things down doesn't mean I don't have to do them! Also, I've been getting plenty of things done without the bullet journal!

So that begs the question: do I really need the journal? Do I feel like it's a waste of time to write things down if I manage to get them done anyway?

Well, the thing is, yes, I am managing to get things done without the bullet journal. But I've also forgotten things several times before I finally remembered to do them. It probably takes up mental energy to keep forgetting and remembering and forgetting and saying to myself, "Geez! I forgot about that again!" I also have a feeling there's things I've forgotten about that I haven't remembered. Like sending out my monthly invoices. I only realized I forgot because a client asked me, "Hey, just checking, did you send me an invoice?" What else have I not realized I'm forgetting about? There's low level anxiety associated with feeling like maybe you're forgetting something important. Again, an energy drain.

Furthermore, bullet journaling is not simply a to-do list. From what I understand, it's a practice that helps you organize your life. It's a record of past events and activities to look back on and a method of planning for the future. It's a practice that can help you get clarity and insight into your method to the madness, to see what areas of your life may need attention or tweaking. To see the bigger picture, not just your to-do list for today. To see the patterns you fall into, like going down a YouTube rabbit hole instead of doing the dishes, and then wondering why you just cannot seem to achieve a clean and tidy house. Just as an example. No reason. Completely hypothetical.

Truth be told, I have been feeling really discombobulated this past week. Really antsy, just itching to get something done, but physically tired at the same time, just wanting to sit and rest and scroll my phone. I want to go fast and slow at the same time. I think going back to using the bullet journal may help me get off my hamster wheel, and calm down and be efficiently productive again.

Tiredness

Which brings us to my next point: tiredness. I have just been feeling sooo low energy this past week or two. I especially feel it when I'm walking up the street, in the direction away from the lake. The ground elevation gradually increases going in that direction, but it's ever so gradual you normally wouldn't even notice it. I've never really noticed it before. But lately, on some days, especially if I'm carrying a backpack or groceries, I feel like I'm just barely trudging uphill. (It's worth noting that, although I am middle-aged, I am not overweight and relatively fit and healthy, so there is no good reason that I should be struggling with walking up a slight incline). Here are my thoughts on why I might be feeling such low energy:

Lack of sleep

Low vitamin D

Wonky eyesight

Poor nutrition

Lack of sleep

First and foremost, I have not been getting enough hours of sleep. No two ways about it. The main problem is I don't go to bed at a reasonable hour. This is an ongoing struggle for me. This is a huge habit I would like to change. But I keep falling back into the same patterns.

I was doing really well with going to bed at a reasonable time up until my eye surgery. That's because I shut off devices and read in bed. But now, because I can no longer wear glasses once I take the one contact lens out for the night, it's kind of difficult to read in bed. I need to figure something out. Because watching YouTube videos on my phone before bed is not working for me.

Low vitamin D

Where I live, it's recommended that people take Vitamin D supplements during the winter months. I generally do, BUT, I was told to stop taking all vitamins and supplements prior to my eye surgery. I just haven't got back into the habit of taking them. So this is an easy fix.

Wonky eyesight

I need to cut myself some slack. My brain has been working VERY HARD trying to adjust to one vision-corrected eye and one in a contact lens part of the time and just seeing everything fuzzy the other part. It is very tiring. I need to remember that this is exhausting my brain and my eyes, even if it doesn't seem like it should be a big deal. I actually have my one month follow up appointment tomorrow, and hopefully I'll get the green light to have surgery scheduled for my other eye soon thereafter. Once both my eyes are corrected, I should be feeling less tiredness from my brain and eyes working so hard. I just need to be patient.

Poor nutrition

Okay, that sounds a bit harsh. I actually eat a lot healthier than the average person, probably. But I consume a lot more sugar than I used to. Pretty sure I have a sugar addiction. The thing is, if I have food prepared and ready to eat, then I eat very healthy. The problem is when I drop the ball with food prep and find myself hungry with nothing ready to eat. Then I just stuff my face with whatever, which isn't always the best choice. Usually it involves sugary foods. Which gives me an energy spike, but then I crash. The sugar binges are not helping with the low energy.

The other thing is, I'm pretty sure I've hit perimenopause, which means changes to my body and metabolism. I can't eat crap like I used to and get away with it. Well actually, come to think of it, one of the symptoms of perimenopause is tiredness and low energy. So there you have it. Mystery solved. I feel tired because I'm perimenopausal. That was an easy revelation.

But back to the nutrition: if I'm organized, then I always have nutritious food ready to eat when I'm hungry. The bullet journaling really helped me keep on top of food prep. So if I bullet journal I'll be more organized about food, which will lead to better food choices, which will mitigate tiredness... See how it's all interconnected?

Urban Homesteading

This has nothing to do with anything, except that I'm interested in the urban homesteading trend right now, so it's on my ADHD mind a lot lately. ("Wooh, another shiny new thing to add to all my other shiny new things!")

I'm not sure how I came across it, but suddenly last week I was looking it up and downloading podcasts about "how to get started". And as I learned more about it, I realized I'm already doing it.

(If you don't know what homesteading is, it's a lifestyle where you have some land out in the country where you can grow most of the food you need to survive plus make a lot of your own household items and produce your own energy with things like solar panels--basically be über self-sufficient. So "urban homesteading" is a smaller scale version of that, where you endeavour to live as self-sufficiently as you can within the context of a city. So you're not going to have acres of crops and cows and chickens, but maybe you have enough space in your yard for a summer vegetable garden. That sort of thing.)

So anyway, there's lots of homestead-y things you can do as a city-dweller. And one of the main things everyone seems to have at the top of their lists is preparing most of your meals from scratch, whether or not you grow the ingredients yourself. So making meals from scratch is something I started to learn how to do decades ago and keep getting better at. The thing is, this is one of the things I often get sick of doing--the constant and never-ending meal prep cycle: shop for food, prepare food, eat food, clean up after food, repeat. I'm not one of those people that enjoys cooking; I just do it because I enjoy eating. But seeing that it's one of the main ways you can become an "urban homesteader" got me kind of motivated. It's almost a kind of gamification for me, seeing how I can spend the least amount of money and waste the least amount of food. I think I've been feeling burnt out with the kitchen chores lately. I need some inspo, and maybe "urban homesteading" is the inspo I need.

Insights

Right. So let's tie it all together.

I mentioned at the beginning of the post that maybe I'm procrastinating so much lately because I'm feeling overwhelmed, but I'm not sure by what. Well, obviously, by ALL THE THINGS. There's just always so many things. And I think the bullet journaling was helping me manage All The Things, so I need to start bullet journaling again.

I also mentioned that I've been avoiding the kitchen chores lately because it's just blah. No motivation. So bored of it. I need to get inspired. And maybe my newest hobby, urban homesteading, is that little spark I need.

Once I get motivated in the kitchen again, I will eat better, because I'll be better organized with meal prep. Not only that, but I find that, for me, getting organized in the kitchen leads to getting organized in the rest of my life. And the opposite is true too--when the kitchen is in chaos, I become discombobulated in general. And discombobulation leads to overwhelm. And overwhelm leads to procrastination. See how it's all interconnected?

So what's my plan of action?

Start bullet journaling again. Approach it like it's brand new to me again.

Start with the basic daily "kitchen spiral" again. (My kitchen routine that moves in a "spiral" starting with clearing off the drying rack, moving clean dishes from dishwasher to drying rack, moving dirty dishes from counter to dishwasher, then moving to the top shelf of the fridge to start food prep.) I will have better nutrition, which will help mitigate the tiredness.

Part of getting organized in the kitchen involves refilling my medication dispenser with Vitamin D. That will help with the tiredness.

Once I get back on track with the kitchen and nutrition, I will start to have more energy and more productive days. Then maybe my sleep will get back on track too.

But right now I'm sooo sleepy. Going to post this and have a little nap. 😴

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ledenews · 6 months

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ON THE NAIL! - The Importance of a Three-Game Weekend

The Nailers couldn’t earn a victory in two road games last weekend after a 4-1 loss in Indy followed by a 3-1 loss at Fort Wayne. What did you see in those two games that contributed to those losses, and how can the Nailers use those lessons moving forward? While it would’ve been nice to earn some standings points this past weekend, sometimes you just run into a couple of goaltenders who have very strong games. While the Nailers did everything they could over the weekend to put pressure on both the Fuel and the Komets, it just wasn’t enough. The power play struggled once again, going a combined 0-for-11 in the two games. When your man advantage group is getting that many chances and isn’t producing, your team will struggle to see much success on the ice. On Friday night at Indiana Farmers Coliseum, Wheeling struggled early, allowing Indy to earn a 2-0 lead before the end of the first period. While the Nailers did come out and fought hard in the second period, including a literal flight that got Raivis Ansons ejected from the game, and a game misconduct penalty for Peter Laviolette, they simply couldn’t bring the deficit to less than two, with Cedric Desruisseaux scoring the lone Nailers goal on the night. An empty net goal by Indy late in the game sealed the deal and sent Wheeling away with the loss, despite outshooting the Fuel on the night by 10 shots (28 to 18 for the game, including a 14-2 difference in the third period). Usually, having such a discrepancy in shot total is better for the team with more shots on goal, but when you face a goalie who is seeing everything, there’s not much you can do on a night like that. Two nights later in Fort Wayne, the Nailers ran into yet another goalie who was strong between the pipes, aside from one good shot by Tanner Laderoute that allowed Wheeling to avoid getting shut out. The Nailers managed to pepper Brett Brochu, the keeper for the Komets, with 43 shots on goal, easily their highest total of the season, but couldn’t manage to get more than the one shot in the second period into the Komets net. Pair that with a Wheeling power play that went 0-for-6 on the night and a penalty kill that allowed two goals in four attempts and it resulted in another loss for the Nailers. I give Wheeling a ton of credit for continuing to play as hard as they did, because when you sense a goaltender is on like Brochu was that night, it can be frustrating and cause your team to lose focus. But I never got the sense like the Nailers got to that point, and they worked hard in every area of the game to try and come back, but it just wasn’t enough. I think the big thing to take away from last weekend is the importance of getting the specialty teams back on track. After starting the season as hot as they did, the power play has fallen off considerably, going only 5-for-43 during the month of November thus far, for a success rate of 11.6%. They only have one game this month (11/15 at Toledo) where they managed to score multiple power play goals in a game, and five games where they failed to capitalize on their man advantage at all. That won’t be enough to keep Wheeling competitive the rest of the way. For the Nailers to have a chance as the season moves on, that’s where they will need to focus on improving considerably. The Nailers came home for a Thanksgiving Eve tilt with Toledo, eventually earning a 4-2 victory over the Walleye. How did Wheeling reverse their fortunes from the previous weekend and earn those two points? It’s always nice to get back on the winning track after getting two losses in a row, but to have that win come against Toledo just makes it that much more enjoyable. As a long-time Thunderbirds/Nailers fan, getting a win against the Storm/Walleye franchise just feels right. Add in the fact that Toledo currently leads the division and that we have beat them in both meetings thus far, and it just feels like maybe we have something to build off of moving forward. The Nailers managed to score first once again in a game this season, with Avery Winslow getting his first goal in his first professional game to give Wheeling a 1-0 lead, but yet again they failed to hold the lead, allowing Toledo to tie the game before the first intermission. While that could’ve been frustrating and led to Wheeling taking their foot off the gas, the exact opposite happened, as the Nailers scored twice early in the second, including just 44 seconds into the period by David Jankowski (who then proceeded to score just over two minutes later), and a huge goal with less than a minute left in the period by Jarrett Lee to give Wheeling a 4-1 advantage after two. While the Walleye managed to score one halfway through the third, that’s all the closer they would come, with Wheeling earning the all important two points and keeping Toledo from gaining any. The power play struggled again, going 0-for-2 in this game, but the penalty kill had an impressive showing, going perfect on three chances, including two back-to-back penalties in the second period against Laviolette. If Wheeling can continue to see success against divisional opponents, especially those ahead of them in the standings, while keeping the other teams from getting points, it will go a long way to keeping Wheeling relevant as we get into the winter months and beyond. Sponsored by Main Street Bank The Nailers have a full schedule this weekend, beginning with a road game in Cincinnati on Friday afternoon followed by back-to-back home matchups with Iowa on Saturday and Sunday. What do the Nailers need to do to maximize the points they earn over the weekend? This will be the Nailers' first time seeing Cincinnati since the first game of the year, a 4-1 Nailers victory in Cincy. These two teams currently sit tied in the standings with identical 7-5-0-0 records, so one of these teams will find themselves with a slight advantage over the other after this game. Playing this game at 1:35 in the afternoon the day after American Thanksgiving probably isn’t optimal, especially considering the team will have to travel earlier in the morning to get there, so hopefully the boys didn’t eat too much turkey and stuffing and can come out and take control of the game quickly. I think this game could rely heavily on the play of the specialty teams, so getting that power play sorted should help them out considerably in this game. The Nailers will then return to the friendly confines of the Friendly City for their first two games this year against the Heartlanders, a team Wheeling had mixed results against last year. Iowa has managed to reverse their fortunes from last year, when they were near the bottom of the standings for the entire league, and currently sit in second place in the division, two points ahead of Wheeling and Cincinnati. While Iowa has played one more game than the Nailers have to this point in the season, they have very similar stats as Wheeling does, with their power play and penalty kill being only a couple percentage points better than Wheeling’s is. The most apparent difference is in the net, where both goaltenders for the Heartlanders currently have goals-against averages slightly over 2.00 and save percentages well into the .900’s. The Nailers may find themselves having issues scoring much in these two games, so getting plenty of traffic in front of the goalie and peppering him like they have recently can help them hopefully come away with two big wins this weekend. Although they are less than a month into the season, several changes have already happened to the roster due to injuries on teams above them requiring callups. How has this affected the team so far and do you think this is a good or bad thing for the Nailers in relation to the rest of the year? Any time your team is in a developmental league and operating as a farm team for teams above you, there’s obviously a chance you’ll have to send your best players up at some point to help out those teams above you. The number of injuries that have already happened, especially at the NHL level, necessitates movement throughout the organization, and will force Wheeling to make adjustments to their roster, potentially on a nightly basis. Dating back to the end of October, Taylor Gauthier, Jordan Frasca, Justin Addamo, Cedric Desruisseaux, and Raivis Ansons have all found themselves getting the chance to go up to Wilkes-Barre/Scranton of the AHL. While some of them have already found their way back to Wheeling, it’s definitely an adjustment when you’re losing guys who sit high on your scoring list and your top goaltender entering the season. A few players who may not have expected to get a lot of playing time coming into the year were pressed into service and have played hard when given the chance to show they want to stay in the lineup longer. I personally think of this as a positive for the team. You have players who deserve the chance to show what they have at a higher level getting that chance and learning from it what they need to do when they return to Wheeling. You have players getting experience in Wheeling so that if they are pressed into service again later in the season, they will have this time to draw from to build on. And you have a coaching staff seeing what they have in certain players that they may not have seen in-game action, letting them get a better feel for their entire roster and figure out how to properly use players on the ice. While it can hurt to lose the production those players offer, it’s an opportunity for this franchise to be ready when or if it happens again this year. I’d rather have it happen for the first time in the year earlier rather than when they’re making a push for the playoffs later. Saturday night’s game down at Wesbanco Arena against the Iowa Heartlanders is First Responders’ night, where the annual Guns and Hoses game will be played following the conclusion of the Nailers game. What are your thoughts on this fantastic promotion? As someone whose best friend is a first responder, I know how great events like these are. Micah Knisely has served as a Wheeling police officer, then Ohio County sheriff, and is now working for both the Wellsburg and Bethany police departments as a K-9 officer. I’ve seen firsthand just how difficult of a job this is for these brave people, both the police and fire and I commend them greatly for all of the work they do to keep us safe from harm with what they do. Not only has Micah served our communities for many years, he has also played in the Guns and Hoses games in years past. I’ve always really enjoyed getting the chance to see these public servants get the chance to kick back and enjoy playing a game, with bragging rights on the line for the next year. Getting the chance to watch a Nailers game, then sticking around to watch these heroes go out there and play hard for our enjoyment, is my idea of a fantastic time. I hope everyone comes out to honor these people, and sticks around to watch just how much fun they have out on the ice after the Nailers game is over. Read the full article

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academy13 · 2 years

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So since fandom ate my brain and I am always thinking of random stuff at work, today I arrived at this thought. Lois, Clark, and Lana playing D&D.

It started off as something Lana and Clark did in high school, like maybe a couple of campaigns with some of their classmates or something, and when he and Lois finally actually enter into a relationship, they’re all talking about their high school shenanigan's and Lois admits that she’s never played D&D but from their stories of one of their campaigns it sounds like it could be fun. So they start a campaign, they try for once a week, but sometimes it winds up being two or three days in a row or every month. In any case they try to keep on track even if it is highly dependent on the threat level and travel ability, and it works well enough for them.

Clark and Lana switch off DM duties, though its usually Lana unless Clark specifically asks or Lana has had a very long very rough day and doesn’t want to DM. Lana tends to play characters that are tanks, largely because Clark’s characters tend to be something that require protection like that, because inevitably their characters will wind up being close friends regardless of alignment or race. And they go all over the place with race and alignments, though Clark sometimes gets very chaotic. But Lois is ALWAYS playing a chaotic aligned character, always. No matter what, warrior, monk, bard, whatever... chaotic. It gets worse once Diana hears about the game and asks if she can join, because it sounds interesting and well, they don’t exactly have anything quite like it back home. By the time she asks, the three of them are playing a campaign where BOTH Lois and Clark are playing chaotic characters, and Lana is SUFFERING because Lois and Clark feed off each other being chaotic, so she’s had to do all sorts of crazy shit in character.... so Diana is highly welcomed and they help her set up a character (she does a character who can heal because... they don’t have one, and thus Lois’s bard has been acting as the healer. Its gone about as well as can be expected when your main healer is a bard with barely any stats in healing things), and when they’re not playing they’re just roasting the bad guys Superman and Wonder Woman face (I mean... Lana knows Clark’s secret identity, she grew up with him. Lois is dating him. And Diana’s is pretty much public... she points out that its about the context, nobody expects Wonder Woman in a t-shirt and jeans in Kansas. This then turns into a minor squabble about Clark’s glasses, but they all agree eventually that people see what they expect to see and that’s why the folks with secret identities aren’t usually connected with their alter ego) and it just becomes a Thing to the point that when Lana starts dating John Henry, he’s invited and at first is kinda hella intimidated because Wonder Woman, Lois Lane, and her childhood best friend Clark Kent (even when he learns Clark is Superman he’s just like “Look, I get you’re the Man of Steel, but you’ve known Lana a hell of a lot longer than I have, that’s intimidating as hell man. You’re basically family...”), but he settles in with his niece and it just eventually turns into Superhero Family Game Night, with other heroes in and out, but the regulars pretty much always there barring global catastrophe. Or tornados. (One game night ends with them having to finish the session in the storm cellar, and Lois will not stop making cracks about Wizard of Oz and Twister, their boyfriends have to physically separate them as much as is humanly possible in a storm cellar. Clark modifies it to be bigger than your average storm cellar for the sake of everyone’s sanity afterwards.)

But no matter the campaign, Diana will always have a very interesting character, nobody knows how the hell she manages it, but she really sets up some interesting characters and everyone loves the storytelling possibilities, Lois will have a highly chaotic character, Lana will have nearly ended Lois a bare minimum of three times because of her trolling , Clark manages to troll the entire room at least once, Bruce will have a paladin, John Henry will again have insane luck with his dice, several sets of d20s have gone to dice prison, and the world will have been saved because there were like half a dozen superheroes playing D&D.

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buckyhoney-library · 3 years

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worst behavior, b.b

A/N: Surprise, i released it earlier than expected! I just- i hope you enjoy, bc this is probably the filthiest thing i've written- i also changed the plot a little bit!

Request: hiiii could i request a one-shot where professor!bucky sees you eyeing his metal arm bc he pushed his sleeves up one hot day and proceeds to keep you after class to do smth abt it? you can make it as kinky as you like, maybe some degrading and breeding if you’re comfortable w that! ugh i’m a whore for professor!bucky

reblogs & likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged

Warnings: 18+, professor!bucky, dom!bucky, age gap (f early 20's), degrading kink, public masturbation, oral (m&f), fingering, spanking, light choking, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, sorry for any missed typos!

Word Count: 4.6k, you already know i get carried away with bucky

You shuffle through the hallways of the historic building. The walls are decorated with paintings and engravings. Students walking in various directions making the hallway crowded and hard to get through. Every now and then, students would stop to talk to friends or professors. This halts the moving traffic, causing jams and irritated groans from other students. The satisfaction sets in when you glance down at the time and notice it’s nine fifty-seven. In three minutes, you’ll be officially late to class.

The other classes you take bore you- making it hard to stay focused. They are the generic first-year classes that everybody dreads. You always end up doodling or drifting in and out of sleep throughout the period- but this class? This is the only class that excites you.

World History with Professor Barnes.

You wake up extra early in the morning to get ready for his class. You put a little more effort into your appearance than the other classes. The thought of the professors and students seeing you in sweats and hoodie didn’t bother you. Professor Barnes’s class on the other hand- you made sure you looked put together. His lecture has you wanting to wear the shortest sundresses with little to nothing underneath them.

Being late to Professor Barnes’s class is frowned upon and requires immediate attention when it becomes excessive. The immediate attention was an after-hours meeting with Professor Barnes to discuss what could possibly be more important than his lecture.

The first time you showed up late, happened to be the first day of class. When you rushed into the lecture hall, your heart nearly stopped by the man in front of you. Brunette hair’s swept back, piercing blue eyes, and a button-up that looked a size too small- showing off his bulging biceps. The fitted navy-blue button-up was rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone. His biceps on full display through the material- showing off the vibranium. You swallowed hard as he began to scold you in front of the entire hall.

“I do not tolerate tardiness. Enough tardies require a private meeting after hours.” His light blue eyes never broke contact with yours, darkening with lust the longer he looks at you- taking you all in.

It was almost as if he was telling you to be late. There is a faint heartbeat between your legs, you cross them in fear he could hear the throbbing from where he stands. You began to daydream about the warm metal wrapped around your throat, while his other fingers were buried inside you. Or the prints that would be left against the flesh of your ass. You nod slowly with the most innocent eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Barnes. I had gotten lost. It will never happen again.” You say innocently, playing up the role- even going as far as pouting your lips.

Bucky’s cock twitched at the sight of your puffed-out lips. Begging to be made an example out of you in front of the class. You smile back at him, patiently waiting to be excused to your seat.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, Ms?”

“Y/L/N.” You purr.

“You may find a seat Ms. Y/L/N.”

He looks are you properly, eyeing you up and down. His eyes fixated on your hips, swaying side to side as you walk up the steps, your skirt flapping up behind you- teasing him. Bucky knew you were going to be trouble this semester- and trouble is exactly what you had been for the last month.

You did everything in your power to get him to keep you after class. Bucky is getting more and more fed up with you- acting so innocent. He knew damn well that you want nothing more than to have your pretty little mouth stuffed with his cock- gagging and gasping for breath.

He hates that you are pretending like you had no idea the amount of frustration you are causing him. The amount of self-control Bucky exhibits is astounding. Especially on the days, you come in wearing close to nothing- claiming it was ‘just too hot outside’ or when you sit in the front row with a lollipop in your mouth, exaggerating the moans as you suck the red hard candy.

You straighten out the wrinkles out of the floral baby blue sundress, before turning the knob on the door.

“Ms. Y/L/N. You’re late- again.” Professor Barnes states sternly, not bothering to look at you.

Bucky caught a glimpse out of the side of his eye- you were wearing his favorite dress and knew he couldn’t look at you in the eye without taking you right there.

This is Bucky’s favorite dress. He loves the way it holds your breasts higher and how it hangs over the curve of your ass so nicely.

How much prettier would the dress look across his lap.

Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you when you walk and the dress flows with every step- sometimes a little too much. This grants him a sneak peek of your favorite lacey white panties- or sometimes the lack thereof. He stiffens at the sight of the fabric covering your pretty little cunt, taunting him.

For the past month, all Bucky could think about is that cunt. How tight you’d be around him- hearing you whimper and whine when he finally enters you, stretching you out to fit perfectly. He wonders if you could take him all at once or if he needs to warm you up with his fingers- but the thing he thought about the most: how sweet you must taste. The question alone could get him off.

How desperately he wants a taste of you.

“Mr. Barnes I am sorry-“ You begin to play into your act before he cut you off,

“Find your seat.” He still not bothering to look at you.

Disappointment floods your face from the lack of attention. In an effort for payback, you sit in the first row already pouting. He began the lecture by discussing the homework he had assigned the night before. You reach into your bag, pulling out the folder.

Expecting you to be in your usual spot in the back of the lecture hall, Bucky clenches his jaw at the sight of you sitting with your legs crossed shut in the front row, with your elbows on the small desk and hands cupping your face in boredom. His cock began to stir. Your breasts press together against the thin fabric- that is working extra hard to keep your breasts from being on display for everyone.

You see the frustration written on his face the moment he finally looks at you. You smirk at the successful payback.

The class goes on, but the material bores you. You begin to stare at Professor Barnes. You could hear the small adjustments from the vibranium as he moves about the lecture hall. Your breath hitches when he rolls his sleeves up. His biceps bulging against the fabric, a faint throbbing begins between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek holding back a whimper. You squirm in your seat, uncrossing your legs to press them together to relieve some pressure.

The sinful thought begins to overtake your mind, only making the throbbing worse by the added arousal pooling against the lace. Checking each side of you, you look to see if there are any other students close enough to you that were about to witness this risky act. There are students staggered behind you, but only a couple dare to sit in the first rows. They are intently listening to their professor- who has his attention on the chalkboard.

You swallow a lump, attempting to steady your breathing. You slip your hand below the desk, resting it on your upper thigh. With one more quick scan of the room, you slip your hand underneath your dress.

You inhale sharply at the contact with your aching cunt. The slow circles you draw over your lacey panties release a wave of pleasure. Your lips part and your eyes flutter. The idea of someone catching you- the idea of him catching you? Made the arousal seep through the material getting on your fingers. You close your eyes dreaming about how Bucky’s fingers would dip between your folds, collecting the arousal and forcing you to taste yourself. You could imagine the pornographic scene play out in your mind, the heavy panting and degrading remarks- your fingers slip inside the thin fragile material. The satisfaction of making direct contact with the bundle of nerves makes it almost impossible to bit back any moans. Instead, you let out silent breaths.

Your imagination continues with his fingers going back between the folds, teasing the entrance- making you whine. Bucky’s other hand groping your breasts harshly. The focus is solely on the clit that throws you hurtling toward your orgasm. You brace yourself for the pleasurable release.

Bucky turns around to flip the page of the textbook when he sees it- sees your legs parted with your middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. He holds his breath, not believing the whore in front of him. Your pants becoming faster and heavier. The pleasure begins to boil over, sending you over the edge. You remove your fingers covering your mouth to muffle the whimpers.

When you come down enough to open your eyes, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach. Red flushing your cheeks and your chest tightens- you have been caught. His jaw hung open in disbelief at what he just witnessed. This is the final straw, touching yourself in class? Cumming in class- in front of him. There is no hiding the growing bulge in his pants.

Bucky slams shut the textbook, The other students sit in confusion at the sudden outburst from their Professor.

“Make sure you read the rest of the chapter. Class dismissed.” He almost growls.

Bucky takes cover at his desk, covering any evidence of an erection. He pulls a random stack of papers to distract himself from the bulge in his pants.

You hurry to pack away your things- you know that you are in a world of trouble and wish to leave the room as fast as possible.

You pull the bag over your shoulder and head straight for the door, not making eye contact with anyone.

“Ms. Y/L/N. Stay.” His voice booming in the near-empty room.

You freeze in your tracks, holding your breath. You turn around to face the furious man seated behind the desk. The one man that now held all the power to expel you. You feel small and weak the closer you get to his desk. He waits till the last student leaves the room.

“Yes, Professor Barnes?” Anxiety begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

“We need to discuss your behavior. Follow me.” The demand making you shiver.

Your legs wobble as you follow him to the room just off the lecture hall. It is his office. It is bigger than you have imagined it. The smell of oak and cigars filling your lungs the moment you enter. His dark mahogany desk is the focal point of the room. The walls are decorated with artwork he had collected over the years. The dark brown curtains are pulled shut. The only light source being the two standing lamps on reside on each side of his bookshelf. Knick-knacks covering the surfaces of the shelves and desk.

“Sit.” His voice is stern laced with lust.

The restricting fabric of the briefs and pants makes the bulge painful. You sit in the chair in front of his desk with your ankles crossed and hands in your lap.

“First, you’re late to my class.” He is stalks around you- like your prey. His arms crossed tightly against his chest.

“Then, you wear this provocative dress.” Bucky’s fingers glide up your arm, grazing over the thin strap on your shoulder. His touch burning your skin.

“Then, you proceed to touch yourself in the middle of my lecture- cumming all over yourself like a disgusting little whore.” His words starting up the throbbing.

Bucky leans against the edge of the desk and your eyes are fixated on your lap- not daring to make eye contact.

“I have every right to expel you,” You inhale preparing yourself.

“-but I’m not going to.” Your eyes shoot up meeting his.

They’re filled to the brim with lust and desire. You gain a boost of confidence soars through you with the knowledge that you aren’t getting expelled.

He tilts your chin up to him, getting a better look at you. Using your chin to turn your face to each side- examining the mouth that will soon be full of him.

Bucky runs his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling at it- parting your lips. You push your head forward, taking his thumb in your mouth- closing your lips around him. You hum, innocently locking eyes with him.

You had no idea what you just started.

A devilish grin tugs on the corners of his mouth at the sight of you taking his thumb. You hallow your cheeks, sucking gently.

“What a good little slut.” He purrs. Bucky removes his thumb and stands.

“But, you’re not getting off that easily. Come.”

You stand to your feet moving to stand in front of him. The throbbing increases between your thighs and the arousal seeping through your panties. Bucky looks down at you touching your shoulder and neck. He finally rests his hand on your cheek, rubbing the flesh gently. You swallow, tensing and untensing your jaw. Bucky sense your nerves,

“It’s okay, princess- you’ll only be a little sore.” Your heart skips a beat.

Your panties are now drenched in your wetness and you swear he could hear the throbbing. You dreamt for this day. He pulls your lips to his. Finally meeting yours. It is slow and passionate; you didn’t know if you could touch him- but he has his hands holding the sides of your face.

“On your knees.” His voice is low and dark.

You drop to your knees. You’re now eye to eye with his bulge. The hardened cock makes your mouth water. You lick your lips, looking at him before you reach for his belt. He nods granting you permission. The belt is undone along with the button of his dress pants. Your slow movements have Bucky in a trance. His eyes don’t leave you.

You tug the pants down, his length still trapped behind the black briefs. You feel his length and hear a low groan escapes his mouth. You place small pecks on top of the clothed member. You are salivating with every kiss, growing more eager. The underwear is pulled down, freeing the aggravated cock. It’s red and looks like it is going to burst within seconds. The girth and length surprises you and you begin to wonder if you can even fit him inside you- let alone your mouth. Nerves build within you and hesitantly look up at Professor Bucky.

“I don’t know if it will fit,” Your voice is quiet, he chuckles and lifts your chin once more.

“Make it fit.” His voice is just above a whisper, but dark and stern.

At that moment you realize that this wasn’t going to be a quick punishment. He is going to make you wish you never wore short dresses, late to his class, or cum in front of him. Bucky licks his lips in awe of how beautiful you looked kneeling in front of him. All the fantasies are about to come true.

You take his length in your small hands; you use both hands to warm him up- slowly building him up. The strokes begin slow and sloppy. Your thumb going over his tip. It’s angry and swollen, it’s begging to be drained. You rub small circles around it- mimicking your movements from earlier. Bucky’s breathing becomes slow pants. The pleasure building with each stroke.

You mentally prepare yourself, collecting all the saliva you could to the front of your mouth. You flicker your eyes up, the grin that grows on his face as you close your lips around his tip encourages you. His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping the strands at the root.

“Yes, take my cock in your mouth you filthy slut.” You hum around him.

He begins to slowly push your head closer to his pelvis, forcing you to take more of him. You were only halfway down his shaft when you gripped his thighs for support. Your ankles are crossed behind you and you are leaning back sitting on your feet.

Bucky didn’t care about staying silent. His low grunts and heavy pants left his lips as he grips your hair. The pure bliss he is experiencing is unlike anyone he’s had before. Based on your performance, he knew that you have had experience before. The thought of other men in your mouth drove him insane. His grip on your hair guides your mouth up and down his cock. He became more aggressive with his grip, quickening his pace.

“I just know you’ve been dreaming about my cock filling your mouth, hm? You’re such a stupid slut- wanting to suck your professor’s cock,” He moans.

You’re gagging on his length, trying your hardest to keep from pulling off of him. You hallow your cheeks adding extra pleasure and using one hand to pump the length while he guides your head. The longer you’re taking him in your mouth the less air you’re getting, the veins in your neck become prominent. You dig your nails into his thigh. Bucky hisses at the feeling of your nails sinking into his skin.

“That’s right, princess. You feel so good around my cock,” He purrs watching the tears forming from in the corners of your eyes.

You can’t take anymore without feeling like you were going to choke. Bucky feels the resistance of you attempting to pull off of him. He pushes your head fully down his length, causing a pornographic moan to leave his lips. Bucky yanks the roots of your hair, ripping you off his length. You gasp for air and cough at the sudden ability to breathe. Saliva coats your lips and his thighs.

“You better finish what you started.” Bucky hisses,

You nod wiping your mouth. This time around, he has precum oozing from his tip. You gather it with your thumb and coat the rest of his length, using it as lubrication. You take him once more, this time using both hands and your mouth. The combo is enough to send Bucky into orbit, but when you start sucking his tip and swirling your tongue around it- he knew it would be a matter of seconds before he would release his load.

“You taste so good, Professor.” You hum against his tip, your movements become faster- not bothering with a slow build.

Bucky grips the edge of the desk, you hear the vibranium cracking through the wood. The sound only eggs you on. The sounds of your slurping and moans, cause Bucky to twitch inside your mouth- signaling he is gonna cum at any moment.

Within seconds your mouth is filled with strings of cum. Bucky’s hips buck as your mouth continues to suck him off. The taste of him has become addicting, you want every last drop of him. You pull off of him, wiping up the spilled cum on your chin. Sucking it off of your finger.

“Shit, princess. You did so well finishing every drop.” He pulls you up from your knees.

“-but that doesn’t mean you’re done. You still need to be punished for your behavior in class. Do you understand?” You nod.

Bucky walks behind his desk. You follow, nervous about what your punishment will be.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N. Bend over.” You do as you say.

Your breast smush against the dark wood, your eyes fixated on the photographs of him with family and friends. You smirk to yourself and look back at him. Bucky’s fingers trail up the backs of your thighs. He lifts the pretty blue sundress, finally seeing that perfect ass up close. Bucky’s cock throbs again when he sees that the underwear you’re wearing the cheeky white lace. So innocent, he thought. Bucky runs his palm over the meaty flesh, gripping and jiggling it. He moans at its effortless movement.

“Fuck!” You yelp, his palm makes contact with your ass cheek.

“I told you, princess. You need to be punished. Count them.” Another rough smack.

“Two.” The tears returning to your eyes, but the pleasure overpowers the pain.

You arch your back, wiggling your ass higher in the air, this time, he is able to get a sneak peek of the covered cunt that lived in his mind.

“Three,” This time, your eyes roll back and you’re seeing stars.

Bucky takes notice of just how soaked you are. He pulls the lace with his metal fingers, tearing through them in an effortless tug. The strings of arousal follow the fabric as it is thrown to the ground.

“Oh? You like getting punished? You soaked through your panties. You really are a fucking whore.” He runs his middle finger down your center, your body twitches once he reaches your swollen and needy clit. Bucky kneels, coming face to face with the glistening beauty. His dream is coming to a reality, he is finally going to taste you.

His tongue dips between your folds, causing you to gasp at the unexpected pleasure. Your ass is still in the air and his hands are gripping your inner thigh, pulling them apart, allowing more access to your sopping cunt.

“Just like I imagined it, so fucking sweet.” He is breathless, the taste of you becomes his new favorite flavor.

Bucky’s tongue licks up the access arousal and his thumb rubs small circles around your clit, making you whine against his desk. His mouth begins to place open mouth kisses against you, his tongue dipping inside you. You need something to grip and release the pent-up pleasure but result to releasing through you moans and whines. It is music to Bucky’s ears.

He pulls away from your dripping cunt, kicking your legs open, spreading them- giving him the best access he could get. His mouth returns to you. But this time giving full attention to your clit.

“I’m too big for your hole, princes. I have to stretch you out.” You whine, as his middle and ring finger slide inside you.

You’re a whimpering mess on his desk as his mouth and fingers switched places. His fingers stretching you out and his mouth on your clit. Bucky moans into you at the feeling of your pussy pulsating against his fingers. You are in pure bliss as he pumps his fingers, occasionally curling- hitting the spongey flesh of your g-spot. He swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking on it and releasing it with a pop. You feel yourself hurdling towards your orgasm. The pulsating becomes quicker, and the moans are now endless streams. Bucky knew you’re close to cumming around his fingers, but you had already came today. He removes his fingers and mouth in one swoop, leaving you breathless and irritated.

“You already came today; only well-behaved whores get to cum.”

You stare back at him in anger. Your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting like you just ran a marathon. He takes amusement at the sight of you looking like a mess.

“Professor, please! I’ve been a good girl!” You whine, wiggling your ass backwards.

“I’ll think about it. It depends on how well you take this cock, princess.” You nod your head, bracing yourself.

Bucky pumps himself a few times before he slides his tip against your cunt. You dreamed of the moment you would feel him inside you. Him sliding into you and filling you up. The need and desire overtaking you and bucking your hips into his cock.

“I said to be good.” A more aggressive smack lands on your ass, this time he used the vibranium. You yelp in pain, knowing there is going to be a handprint on your ass. Branding you.

You gasp at the sudden fullness.

“I was going to be gentle, since you are not used to a cock as big as me, but since you want to be an inpatient slut- now I’m not going too.” Bucky rams his cock into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

He grunts at the sound of your whines and whimpers. He grips your hips using it to increase his speed. The purple and red marks form, where his fingers dig into you. Bucky groans at how tight you feel around him. The resistance from your walls getting him closer and closer.

Bucky continues at his pace while, but this time gripping the back of your neck. He tugs you back, lifting you. Your hands palm down on the desk, using it as stability. One of his hands pins your hands behind your back. Bucky pulls you back, flushing your bodies together. His fingers wrap around your neck. Your head falls back against his shoulder moaning at the sensation of his fingers around your throat. Bucky’s rhythm doesn’t slow down now that you’re standing. Your legs are still wide allowing him to go deep and hard.

“You’re such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” You couldn’t even think.

You have entered another world. Your hands are still pinned behind you and your eyes are rolling back from the feeling of his other. All you could do is moan and sink into his cock.

“Fucking yourself in front of the class and cumming all over yourself- you fucking loved the idea of getting caught huh? I bet you would love someone to walk through that door and catch me fucking your sweet cunt.”

His words only push you further into nirvana. Your legs begin to feel weak, and the responsibility of standing is becoming too much. Bucky notices the sudden inability to stand.

“You gonna cum, princess?” You are barely able to function. You moan in response and he thrusts quicken- if that is even possible.

“Cum, princess. Cum around my cock,”

You see stars as a wave of pleasure washes overtakes you and you feel pure ecstasy. Your cunt contracts around his cock, sending Bucky over the edge. His cock pulsating and shoot loads of cum inside you, filling you once more.

“Fuck!” He moans one last time.

He collapses on top of you. Your hands catching your bodies as you lay pressed against his desk once again. Bucky pulls himself out of you, leaking with cum. You whimper at the sudden loss of fullness.

Your legs felt weak and standing on your own seemed like an impossible task. You are trying to catch your breath. The high cooling off and you regain the ability to talk.

You push yourself up, feeling the cum run onto your inner thigh. Bucky grabs a handful of tissues, wiping away the cum. He helps you sit down on his chair. Your breathing finally slows and the adrenaline wears off. You begin to feel the aftermath of every mark and muscle. You groan as you try to move from the seat.

Bucky walks over to you handing you a bottle of water and switches places with you, so you are now on his lap.

“I told you would be a little sore,” He chuckles, placing a kiss on your temple.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #professor!bucky #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes x female oc #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine

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theringers · 3 years

Text

friends with benefits - charles leclerc

summary: type A planner best friend lives with no thoughts head empty best friend and they decide to start sleeping together

request: 37 , 70, 78 w charles😃

prompts: 37) “Please? I'll be good, I promise!" 70) “we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!” 78) “Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.”

a/n: charles, head empty no thoughts just his hot roommate and his inability to keep things to himself

warnings: nsfw, 18+, angst kinda, friends to fuck buddies, oral sex

“Could you uhhhhh do me a favor?” You asked Charles. The fuzzy blanket was draped over both of you and he was about to press play on the movie.

His eyes rolled. “What do you need, my love?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Can you maybe make some popcorn?” You tried to slow your words down a bit, for some reason thinking he would be more inclined to say yes if you asked like that.

He exhaled loudly. “Fine.” He tossed the blanket over to you so he could get up off the couch. “But only because now you’ve got that thought in my mind and I want it.”

“If doing things for yourself instead of me makes you feel better, that’s okay with me.” You smiled. This was a typical weeknight for the two of you.

You were a self proclaimed movie critic. Charles just got stuck with a self proclaimed movie critic as a roommate, but it made for some entertaining nights.

The two of you met in high school and immediately formed a bond. Everything between you two was easygoing and laid back, which he loved. He was never a huge people person or party type and neither were you.

You found peace in each other’s silent company and eventually realized you had more in common than you first thought. That following summer, you did practically everything together. Charles had a couple girlfriends here and there and you had a couple boyfriends as well, but it didn’t really matter. Nothing ever stuck.

College rolled around and you weren’t sure what to do. You wanted to stay in Monaco close to your family, but you just couldn’t live at home anymore. Lucky for you, Charles offered to let you move into his spare bedroom until you could make a decision. It had been years and you were still in that spare bedroom. The thought of moving out and doing something different hadn’t crossed your mind since the day you moved in.

“Do you want butter or no butter?” He asked from the kitchen, hands full of popcorn bags.

“Come on is that even a question?”

“Right. Butter. Lots of it.” He threw the bag into the microwave and it started to pop.

He came back with a bowl full of steaming popcorn and handed it to you.

“Be careful it’s,” he looked at you to see your mouth wide open and steam coming out, “hot.”

“Almost hotter than you,” you said once you caught your breath.

He rolled his eyes and fake laughed. “Hilarious, y/n.”

“I’m being serious.”

“C’mon, we’ve talked about this.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re hot,” you said. Every time this was brought up, he got so flustered. Which was why you continued to joke around with him and flirt with him. He would never act on it.

“Y/n…. I’m gonna go to bed if you keep this up.” He was annoyed.

“I’m sorry. Please stay? I’ll be good, I promise.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Fine, but you gotta stop,” he said, pulling your legs onto his lap so you could lounge more comfortably.

A rom-com was playing on the TV and the sound of munching on popcorn was filling the room.

A long distance relationship played out on the screen. Lots of phone calls, lots of phone sex, lots of jerking off to each other’s photos. You shifted in your seat, trying to seem casual and not uncomfortable.

“Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.” You stopped shifting and looked at Charles.

“So much for ‘we’ve talked about this’.” You held up air quotes. “Care to elaborate?” He was known for saying out of pocket things. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he fully thought things through before he said them.

“I mean, not really. The movie just reminded me of it.”

You couldn’t think of a response quick enough so he continued to talk. “You always say whatever’s on your mind so I thought I might try it out.”

“You don’t do that enough already?”

“I’m trying to be more honest.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. “I applaud you for that. But you can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

“Don’t hate me, that’s all I’m going to say.” His hand rubbed up and down your shins that were resting on his lap.

“I could never hate you, Charles.”

“Last night when you took a shower, you left the bathroom door wide open. I was just walking back to my room from the kitchen, I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed and interrupted him. “Charles, it’s okay. That’s my fault.”

“I just glanced, I promise. But I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. And my cock was still really hard after a while.”

“You knew I was awake, you should have come to my room,” you said. It sounded good in theory but if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t know what to do if he showed up at your bedroom door with a boner.

“We’re just friends though. Friends don’t do that type of shit.” He took a deep breath and looked off in the distance. Anything to avoid eye contact.

“Says who?” He looked at you and tilted his head in confusion. “A lot of friends do that type of shit. There’s even a word for it.”

“Have you thought about this before?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t… Charles, we’re two young twenty somethings that live together. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like if we were sleeping together.”

“I don’t mean this in a bad way but I honestly didn’t think about it until I saw you.”

“Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in me.” You had thought about what a perfect storyline it would make for you two to sleep together but never the reality of actually getting into bed with him. Now that made you nervous.

“More like the horny romantic”

“Very funny…” You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and he swatted it away.

“So, are we doing this thing?” He turned his attention from the TV to you.

“Tell me you didn’t just actually ask me that question.” He was blunt and never beat around the bush.

“I did, and I would like an answer, please.” You wanted to smack that stupid smile off of his face for how he was making you feel.

“What’s this thing?” He needed to spell it out.

“Are you,” he pointed to you, “going to let me,” his finger moved to himself, “inside of you?”

You burst out laughing. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. We need to set some ground rules for this.”

“Rules?” He didn’t look like he was a fan of rules. And as his roommate, you knew he wasn’t a fan of them. Just ask the groceries you’ve gone shopping for two months in a row.

“Our friendship, our cohabitation, you know. I’m not just going to let you go willy nilly on me without making sure you aren’t going to leave me friendless or homeless after.” Nothing could be done with you unless it was carefully planned. All possible outcomes had to be thought through.

“I would never leave you friendless or homeless.”

“Even if I was the worst person at sex, in the world, ever?”

“I highly doubt you’re the worst, but even if you were.”

“You’d still fuck me, even if everyone in the entire world was better than me. Damn I’m lucky.”

“Here’s a rule for you. You need to tell me how it feels. I’ll fuck you however you want to be fucked so you better tell me when something feels good.” Charles said.

“I can do that. If you like something I do, tell me. If you don’t, tell me.” You talked a big game but telling Charles how he made you feel sexually made your spine tingle, and you weren’t sure if it was anxiety or desire.

“I doubt there’s anything you can do to my body that I won’t like.” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He was a guy after all.

“You wanna bet?” You asked, lunging at him jokingly.

“Sure, I’d like to see you try.”

“I guess I will, then.” You just needed time to plan it first.

He stood up and held out his hand for you to take. “Now that we’ve talked about it, I can’t get it off my mind.”

“You want to do this, right now?” Panic set in. This was too sudden.

“Right now,” he said, confidently. “If, that’s what you want, of course.”

“Okay.” You followed him into the hallway, bypassing your bedroom and ending up in his.

You took a few shy steps around, like you’d never been in there before. “Do you want to get on top or do you want me to?”

“Y/n…” He needed you to just relax and let go.

“Right, right, let’s just do it.” You took a step forward and he grabbed your face in his hands. Your lips moved with his, feeling soft and warm. There was only so much in your life you could plan. This was never part of it.

He slowly guided you to his bed and gently pushed you backwards. His shirt slid over his head and you admired his body, looking at him in a different light. He never took his shirt off around you with sexual intentions but this was new. And fun.

You smiled at him, both of you acknowledging what you were about to do. It made you explode inside thinking about how much you were enjoying this, letting someone else take control and letting go. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you thought. Snap out of it.

“Before we start, is there anything you really don’t like?” He asked, reaching for the button of your denim shorts. You nodded side to side, giving him permission to pull the shorts down your legs.

He immediately pulled your thong aside and slipped a finger between your folds. He smiled feeling the wetness. “Thinking about us fucking is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“Don’t embarrass me,” you shot him a look and he understood.

“I’m not embarrassing you. It’s sexy.” He kneeled between your legs on the floor.

“Well, keep it to yourself,” you said.

“Why would I keep it to myself when I have physical proof that thinking about us is turning you on?” One of his fingers easily slid inside of you and your hips shifted as you rolled your eyes at him. “Is this okay?” He asked, concerned by your movements.

“Yes,” you said, unsure of what else to say. You didn’t want to give him any more ammo to make fun of you. You told each other everything but this was one side of you he never saw, and you didn’t think he ever would. Vulnerability at its finest, but you agreed to this.

His finger moved in and out of you and the sounds of your wet pussy made you want to cover your face and hide. He added a second and slowly curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot. A soft moan escaped your lips despite the fact that you were trying hard to keep them to yourself.

“Tell me how it feels.” He said.

“It feels,” you took a moment to breathe in, “so good.” He used his other hand to play with your clit, causing you more pleasure. You were looking at the ceiling, finding it hard to acknowledge that Charles was the one making you feel like this. If you squeezed your eyes shut hard enough, maybe this wouldn’t be something you needed to worry about.

A euphoric feeling began to build in your stomach, your legs slowly going numb in the best way possible. You continued to try and hold in your moans but when you hit your climax, everything was uncontrollable. Your body jerked and moans fell as you rode out your high.

You opened your eyes to see Charles pulling his fingers out and smiling. He made you feel that way and while you lay half naked on his bed post-orgasm, it was starting to feel okay. How much more vulnerable could you get with him than this?

He stood up and pulled his sweatpants off, his hard cock springing out of his cotton boxers. Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t help but stare as he stroked himself, preparing for you. He noticed, but ignored it, granting your request of not embarrassing you. The look he shot you was enough to know that he was aware of your stares.

“I’m only gonna say it one more time,” he said, leaning on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. “You need to tell me how it feels, or I’m going to start talking really dirty with you.”

You laughed, feeling more relaxed than before. “I almost want to keep quiet on purpose just to see that.”

He dipped his head in disappointment. “Not funny.”

“I think I’m pretty funny.”

“You are, but I want to make you feel good. I’d rather know then instead of you telling me I sucked after.”

“Okay, okay,” you obliged. He nodded and positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside of you.

You had to adjust to his size - his dick was nothing like his fingers. He didn’t give you much time before he started moving and you didn’t even care. He felt so good inside of you and seeing his body on top of you was putting you at ease rather than stressing you out, like you had expected it to.

His head rested in the crook of your neck, giving you perfect access to his ear. Almost like he did it on purpose, to make you more comfortable. You didn’t have to look at him in the eyes and admit how good he was making you feel. “Your dick feels so good,” you whispered in his ear and he grunted in response.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he said into your ear, slightly nibbling on the lobe.

His hips moved rhythmically while you lifted your feet onto his back to change the angle. You couldn’t help but let more moans slip out at the feeling. “I think I’m gonna cum,” you said, quietly.

“Let go,” he said followed by a few expletives. His pelvis ground into you, creating a sensation on your clit you’ve never experienced.

You felt your second orgasm of the night build up as he continued to fuck you, keeping the same pace. You held your hands on his back and let moans fall to his ear making sure he knew how good you felt.

He pulled out of you and your body felt like deadweight. You were glued to the bed and couldn’t find the energy to get up. “How was that?” He asked. Of course he couldn’t give you a second to recover before opening his mouth.

“Great,” you smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Did you finish?” You sure hadn’t felt him cum inside of you and you don’t think he wore a condominium either.

“No, but I just wanted to make sure you felt good.” He picked his sweatpants up off the floor and went to put his boxers back on before you stopped him.

“Unacceptable. I’m not going to let you jerk off thinking about me two nights in a row. Especially not after I was just naked in your bed.” Your post-orgasm confidence was showing when you dropped to your knees in front of him and took his still hard cock in your hand.

Slick juices still covered it, making it easier for you once you took him in your mouth. He was bigger than you expected, so you started swirling your tongue around the tip while your hand worked at the rest of him. “Shit,” you could hear him say.

You slowly took more of him, hollowing out your cheeks in response to his moans. His hand found the back of your head but rested there, not wanting to pressure you for more but he couldn’t resist once you fit almost all of him in your mouth.

The sounds he made caused butterflies in your stomach knowing that you were the sole reason for those sounds. His grip got tighter on you and he started to thrust into you when you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he grunted while you took every last drop. You stood up and took a step back, swiping your finger over your bottom lip.

He looked at you with the same eyes you looked at him after he finished fucking you. “So, uh,” he said. “Where do we go from here?”

You nervously looked around the room. “Should we finish the movie?”

“Great idea.”

You both put your clothes back on and sat back on the couch. “Let’s talk about that.” He never knew when to shut up, but sometimes it was for the better.

“What about it?”

“Did you like it? Should we do it again? Do you want to move out?” You laughed at his last question.

“It was really good,” you said, your thoughts wandering to just a few moments ago. You wouldn’t mind having him on top of you again. “We might as well.”

“Just one more thing,” he said. “Don’t fall in love with me.” He smiled and let out a giggle. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or not, but you laughed along too.

#f1 imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #cl

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denial-permanente · 2 years

Note

Hey :)

You mentioned that Tom is allowed to cum quite often while you have sex with his faux cock. May I ask how often that is? And how does he feel after that kind of (ruined) orgasm? Does his submissiveness drop at all? Is he still horny afterwards?

Did I say quite often?

Although I enjoy when he tells me how long it's been, I honestly don't bother keeping track because it's really not that important to me. The important thing to me is that he is locked up... just keeping him locked makes his libido higher, and all it takes is a little cage check from me to turn his low simmer into a boil. 😈

Tom says that he doesn't really keep track either, but it works out to about once a month that we make love and I either allow him (or sometimes make him have) a caged orgasm. But it varies. His last stretch was over 2 months. But I've also given him them 2 "dates" in a row, although not very often. It depends on my mood. And somerimes we make it into a game where he tries to hold back and I try to make him. I always win when I put my mind into it, but sometimes I let him stay denied. Again, it's all about how I feel at the time.

Tom has said that up until a couple of years ago, the caged orgasms felt weird. Not totally ruined, but never very satisfying. But by the time he passed his 3rd year being permanently locked up, he discovered that they were becoming very enjoyable. He says that I've rewired his brain so that they now feel as good as what he remembers them feeling like in the old days. I can tell you that when it happens, he makes a lot of noise, and grabs my hips, and does even more bucking and moving that he used to do. It sure looks like he's enjoying them to me. 😆

I don't really consider him to be submissive, but usually I can tell he's "off" for a day. He's still affectionate, but the passion isn't totally there. But after another night, he wakes up the next morning as horny as ever. I think it's because the cage never comes off, and without the stroking and pumping, maybe when he comes now he's only 90% satisfied? I don't know. Again, all those little details just aren't important to me. All I care about is that I always have a loving and attentive husband. 😊

#chastity question

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

When He Meets His Long Distance Partner For The First Time ~ The Boyz Reaction

Sangyeon:

Your hand tapped nervously against the top of your leg as you watched the corners of Sangyeon’s mouth turn up into a smile in response to your good news.

Your own smile grew too as he leant in closer to the screen with his hands pressed to the top of his head. “You’re really going to come to Seoul? This isn’t a wind up, right?”

Your head instantly shook, “I promise it’s not a wind up, I’ve got some holiday to use up.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he chuckled, throwing his head back in disbelief, “when are you coming? How long for? There’s so many places I want to be able to take you too.”

“We’ve still got a couple of weeks to organise everything, it’s alright.”

With a shaky breath, Sangyeon’s head nodded back at you, “of course, although I don’t really care what we do, just finally being able to spend time with you will be nice enough.”

“I agree,” you concurred, “it doesn’t matter what we’re doing, just being in Seoul is enough.”

Your eyes flickered back up to the screen as Sangyeon continued to stare, “I can’t believe I finally get to see you, properly, in real life and right beside me.”

“I’ll be there in no time, not too long to wait now.”

Jacob:

Your eyes instantly lit up as you looked around the lounge, finding Jacob sat down at the end of a row of benches, scrolling aimlessly through his phone as he waited.

Your speed picked up and in no time at all your figure was stood before him. “Hi,” he nervously whispered as he looked up and saw you stood in front of him.

Arms instantly wrapped around your waist as you dropped your suitcase, “hi, how are you?”

“So good,” he chuckled as he squeezed you tightly against his chest, “I can’t believe you’ve finally managed to get over here, and you’re definitely a real person as well.”

“I’ve always been real,” you laughed, “or did you think I was a super smart catfish.”

His head shook back at you as he pulled away so that he could meet your eyes, “I never imagined how it would really feel to be able to meet you in person, that’s all.”

“Does it feel good to finally meet me in person though?” You asked back across to him.

His head nodded straight away, “it feels amazing, I feel like I might need you to pinch me a few times to let this sink in and not let me wake up.”

“You’re not dreaming, I really am here before you.”

Younghoon:

As you lifted the plane ticket up so that it crossed over the screen, you heard a loud gasp from the screen as Younghoon leaned forwards to the camera.

His hand beckoned for you to move the ticket back where he could see it, “please tell me I’m not dreaming when that destination says to Seoul.”

Your head shook gently, “one ticket to Seoul in two weeks, that’s exactly what it says.”

“That makes this all feel so real,” he whispered in a slight haze of disbelief, “you’re really going to be here in two weeks, and not just a face on my screen anymore.”

“Hopefully we can be a bit more normal too and see the same time of day.”

A soft chuckle escaped from Younghoon, “at last I don’t have to wait until the end of my day to speak to you, but instead I can spend the entirety of my day with you.”

“Sounds pretty cool, right?” You smiled, relieved as Younghoon’s smile grew too.

His head moved back away from the camera once again, “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to wait, I just want you to fly over right now and never leave Seoul.”

“We’ve lasted months already, a couple more weeks will be nothing.”

Hyunjae:

Your eyes looked around in bemusement as you stepped foot in Jaehyun’s room for the very first time, taking in all the sights that you’d seen so many times before.

It was different on a screen though, which Jaehyun quickly realised. “I bet it feels pretty strange to be in the room you’ve seen as my background for such a long time.”

Your head nodded in agreement, “I never really pictured this room as a real place, that’s all.”

“A bit like how we never pictured each other as real,” he sympathised, “you’ll get used to this place being real soon enough, it’s home at least for now anyway.”

“I never pictured myself getting here one day on our calls.”

His smile widened as he took a seat on the edge of his bed, inviting you to join him, “why don’t I show you around a bit, that way you might feel a bit more comfortable.”

“What’s there to show me that I haven’t already seen before?” You asked with intrigue.”

His hand extended to point across to a new addition to his room, “I had to create a little spot for you, so that it felt like you’re home too.”

“That’s adorably sweet of you, but your home is also mine.”

Juyeon:

Your body jumped slightly at the feeling of a pair of arms wrapping around you, preventing you from placing anything else into your suitcase to pack your belongings up.

As you turned your head slightly, your eyes met Juyeon’s. “I don’t want you to go tomorrow, it feels like you’ve only just arrived still, doesn’t it?”

You smiled weakly with a sigh, “I wish I could stay, but I’ve got too much going on at home.”

“This could be your home,” he frowned, resting his chin against your shoulder, “I know I’ve joked about it all week, but would moving to Seoul be so bad, I’d be here with you.”

“Life isn’t that easy Ju, it’s not something I can do straight away.”

His head nodded softly, “I’ll hold onto the hope that one day things might be able to change for the two of us, that’s all that I need for now anyway.”

“Neither of us know what the future will hold for either of us,” you assured him.

“As long as you’re there, I don’t mind,” he whispered into your ear, “whether you’re here or at home, none of that matters to me, as long as I have you.”

“You’ll have me, somewhere around the world I’ll be there.”

Kevin:

Your head shook as you walked into arrivals to notice a large banner held up in the crowd with your name written on it, and a figure jumping up and down holding onto it.

As soon as Kevin spotted you, the banner fell as his arms reached out for you, “I was worried you wouldn’t see me,” he laughed as he followed your gaze.

Your eyes rolled back at him, “was a banner that big really necessary for me to spot you?”

“I wanted to make your arrival special,” he proudly smiled, “and I knew it would make you happy too, I know you’re impressed by the banner really, I worked on it all night long.”

“It’s perfect, but only because you’re the one who made it.”

His arm snaked around your waist tightly, “if you thought the banner was good, you just wait and see the rest of the things I have planned for you this week.”

“Is it too late to consider getting a flight back home?” You teased in response to him.

“No!” He yelled, tightening his grip around you, “I’ve waited too long for this moment, there’s no way I’m letting go of you all week, you’re mine.”

“I guess we’ll just have to leave the banner here then, right?”

New:

The noise that hit you as you walked into the studio left you stunned, your eyes met Chanhee’s as he looked around to face you, noticing how slow your pace was as you walked.

Your head shook, but he had already pushed the door open as several pairs of eyes flickered around. “Members, meet Y/N,” Chanhee smiled, excited to finally introduce you.

Your eyes darted around as a tall figure approached, “we’ve waited so long to finally meet you.”

“At least now he’ll stop talking about you too,” another voice quickly interjected, drawing your attention across the room to where you recognised Kevin’s face.

“I’m sure he doesn’t talk about me, I’m hardly that interesting.”

Kevin’s head shook back at you, ignoring the glare that Chanhee shot him. “I’ve recorded him a few times, I could play them for you if you wanted me too.”

“Maybe later, there’s too many of you to meet properly first,” you joked with them all.

Chanhee quickly appeared by your side and agreed with you, “I’m not letting you guys embarrass me when Y/N has only just arrived in the country.”

“Chan, you’re normally capable of just embarrassing yourself.”

A nervous giggle came from you as you looked across at Changmin who sat beside you in the car, quickly looking away when you realised that he had heard you.

His hand reached across the car to grab onto your hand, “why are you still so shy?” He whispered, squeezing your hand to encourage you to look back at him.

Your head shook anxiously, “I guess it still doesn’t quite feel real that we’re physically together.”

“I guess it does feel a little odd still,” he agreed, offering you a smile, “we’re so used to just talking online, and suddenly we’re able to do so much more and spend more time together.”

“I never imagined that seeing you in real life would make me even happier.”

His hand squeezed against yours once again, “I’m just glad that you’re happy here in Seoul, and that you’re happy being here with me as well.”

“Seoul is amazing, and so are you,” you assured him, “better than I ever could have imagined.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he acknowledged, leaning in closer to you, “and just so you know, you’re pretty cool yourself, I feel very lucky to be here with you.”

“Stop being cute before you really do turn my cheeks red.”

Juhaknyeon:

As your eyes flickered up from the menu, you quickly noticed Haknyeon’s eyes darting downwards to look through the menu, keeping quiet as you stared across at him.

After a few moments he looked up, noticing your eyes still firmly on him. “I don’t mean to stare; it still just feels pretty surreal that you’re in front of me right now.”

A soft laugh came from you, “would you prefer if I went back to being a laptop screen instead?”

“No way,” he chuckled, closing his menu and placing it in front of him, “being with you in person is ten times better than speaking to a screen in front of me.”

“I’ve spotted you staring at me multiple times through the week.”

A sigh gently escaped him, “I keep staring to remind myself that this is happening, I’ve dreamt about this for so long sometimes I question whether I still am dreaming.”

“What can I do to prove to you that all of this isn’t a dream at all?” You asked.

His hand lifted, using his index finger to tap against his cheek, “a kiss would be a pretty handy reminder that all of this is real right now to be honest.”

“I definitely think I can do that, any excuse to kiss you is good with me.”

Sunwoo:

Your body froze as you saw a man before you who looked just like Sunwoo, furrowing your brows together to work out whether it was really him before you or not.

As they took a few steps towards you, their smile widened. “Are you going to stand there all day?” They laughed, closing the distance between you both.

Your head shook as it slowly began to sink in, “Sunwoo? You really are real? Can I hug you?”

“Of course,” he laughed, opening his arms out for you to walk into, “I thought for a moment I’d got the wrong girl with the way that you looked at me.”

“I just didn’t know what to expect from this moment.”

His smile widened as he engulfed you gently, “neither did I, but that’s what makes it all the more special, the fact that we can just be ourselves.”

“I don’t know what to do, I think I’m just stunned,” you admitted back to him.

His head nodded understandingly, “just let it sink in for a moment that I really am this handsome in real life and then I promise you’ll be alright.”

“You’re impossible, even if you are incredibly handsome too.”

Eric:

Every corner that you turned came with a new surprise as Youngjae introduced you to the place he called home and the many sights that were around too.

As another gasp came from you, he decided to finally speak up. “Many of these buildings that you see right now are on our itinerary for this week.”

Your eyes moved across to look at him, “but they’re all so big and fancy, are you sure?”

“Of course,” he laughed, “I told you that I was going to show you the best that Seoul had to offer, plus they’re not as fancy as they look, most of them are pretty boring.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this before, it’s a far cry from what I call home.”

His head nodded back at you, “you get to explore a different part of the world with me, and I promise that by the end of this week you’ll love Seoul as well as you love me.”

“I’ve already fallen in love with Seoul, almost as quickly as I did you,” you complimented.

The corners of Youngjae’s mouth widened quickly, “you’ll have the time of your life being here, just you wait and see, you won’t ever want to go home.”

“Don’t say that I already wish I could be here forever with you.”

---

Masterlist

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let-me-luve-you · 3 years

Text

Dr. Holland

Tom Holland x Sister

Summary: Tom’s big sister is the hardest working person he knows. He is extremely proud of her and he can’t stop himself from talking about her during an interview.

Warnings: Overworked, maybe some angst, loving siblings, mentions of doctor work

MASTERLIST

Tom sighed as he got a text from you saying that you were scheduled to work the one week he was home. Another message followed saying you only had to work three days instead of the normal five. You were an emergency room doctor and you worked a lot. Tom was proud of his older sister. She worked her but off through medical school to get where she was. Now she was working her butt off to get the position you really wanted, Pediatric Oncologist.

Tom had been filming Spider-Man in America when you were going through medical school. You would call him to keep you company while you were studying. And when time was on his side, he would quiz you. Tom never thought he was smart enough to become a doctor, but he knew enough to get by now.

It was early Wednesday morning when you pulled up at Tom’s house. You had gotten off work at 6am and stopped by your house to shower and change clothes. Tom had texted you last night that he had a few Zoom interviews this afternoon that would take a few hours of his time. Tom told you that you were free to sleep in his room after breakfast. But with only a few days with your brother, you decided you could sleep at night when they sleep.

You took the key Tom gave you for when you house sit and let yourself in. The house was quiet so you knew everyone was still asleep. You moved towards the kitchen. You sat your purse down and went straight to the coffee machine. Normally you would drink tea, but after a long night and soon to be long day, you needed all the help you could get to stay awake. While waiting on the coffee to be made, you took out all the pans and ingredients you would need to make breakfast. You decided to make breakfast burritos since those were your favorite and you didn’t get them often.

Halfway through cooking the sausage, bacon, and eggs, Tom walked in rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his hair flying every which way. He walked over to you and gave you a big hug. You smiled into his chest.

“Still short, I see.” Tom said with sleep lacing his voice.

“Still rude, I see.” You said back.

Tom squeezed you tighter, “I missed you.”

“Missed you to bubs.” You pulled back and watched him walk towards the coffee pot. You gave a small laugh and turned back to what was at hand.

“How’s the hospital been?” He asked as he sat on the counter next to the stove so he could see your face while he talked to you.

“It’s been good. Being in the ER means inconsistent hours and long shifts. Dr. Hamilton is planning on retiring in the next few months and he's told them my name as a replacement. Hopefully that works out so I can finally be a Pediatric Oncologist.” You said.

“I know you’ll get it and you'll be the best at your job.” Tom said matter of fact.

“Thanks. I hope I get it. If not, I may have to switch hospitals. I don’t think I can stay in the ER. I had night shifts this week. Day shifts last week. I went from day to night on Sunday. I had six hours off to rest since they made me work this weekend. They messed up the schedule but if I asked for Sunday night off, they were going to make me work the rest of the week.” You said taking all the food you just made to the island. Tom followed you and sat at the counter. You started fixing his burrito.

“I can make my own you know?” He said with a laugh. “But honestly. Stick it out. No one is more deserving of that position than you. You care for the kids and you know exactly what you are doing. Everything will work out. I’m so proud of you. Don’t know if I tell you that enough, but I am.”

“Thanks Tom.” You smiled at him. After making your burritos, you continued to talk about everything in your lives. He caught you up on the movies he was doing. He explained what the interviews were for. You just stared at him in awe as you saw the passionate look in his eyes when talking about acting.

A few hours after breakfast, you went to sit with Tom in his office. You laid out on the couch joking with him before his interview. Tom’s phone rang and he saw that it was his manager so he answered. Ten minutes later when he hung up he looked at you asleep on the couch. He stood up and grabbed the blanket and laid it across you. He knew that you would be out the whole time he did interviews as long as he didn’t make any sudden sounds. Tom was grateful the call through his computer rang through his AirPods. That sound would have woken you up and he knows you need sleep. Tom clicked the green answer button and was met with a smiling reporter.

“Hello Tom. How are you today?” The reporter asked.

“I’m doing great. How about yourself?” Tom asked back. Talking quieter than he normally would for something like this. His eyes drifted up to you to see if you moved and he didn’t even see you flinch.

“I’m doing great. Thank you for asking. So my name is Gerald. I’m with Buzzfeed. And I wanted to start this interview off asking what you’ve been up to these last few months.”

“Well, I’ve been in Germany working on a movie. Can’t go into detail just yet about it, but news will be dropping soon.” Tom checked one more time on you before he moved his full attention onto Gerald. “Sorry if I’m talking quieter than usual. My sister is asleep on my office couch. She’s been working like crazy lately so I didn’t have the heart to wake her.”

“Your volume is perfectly fine. If you don’t mind me asking, what does your sister do? We know about your other brothers since they are more involved in your line of work. They even travel with you. But we don’t really know a lot about your sister.” Gerald asked.

“My sister is amazing. Her name is Y/N. She’s a few years older than me. She is currently a doctor at one of the hospitals here in London. She’s been an emergency doctor but she is working towards becoming a Pediatric Oncologist.”

“That sounds fancy. What is that?” He asked.

“It’s a doctor that treats children with cancer. Y/N has worked so hard to get to that point. She’s so caring and loving and knows so much that I think she would be the perfect fit in any hospital in that position.”

“You sound proud of her.” Gerald said, pointing out the fact.

“I’m incredibly proud of her. She is just so amazing at everything but I was in the front row watching her work to this point. I wasn’t ever great at school and she was always working for those perfect grades. She would let me study with her so she could help when I needed it. I was her first call when she was accepted into med school. I remember crying when she told me that because I knew the work she had put in during undergrad to get there.” Tom said as he looked up at you. You were still sleeping soundly and Tom smiled at that.

“When I was filming Spider-Man: Homecoming, she would call me. It would be six or seven o’clock at night where I was and so I knew it was around midnight her time. She just wanted my company while she studied. She was so used to us working together she needed me there to help concentrate. She would email me her note cards and I would spend hours quizzing her. We were close before that, but we were almost inseparable after that. She’s my big sister and I love her and I’m so, so proud of her.”

“It sounds like it. It’s refreshing hearing you say such great things about your sister. I bet the whole family is proud of the both of you.” Gerald added.

“I know we are all proud of Y/N. For me, I know my family is proud, but what I do doesn’t even come close to what she does. After not seeing her for months due to COVID, any good I do, will never compare to the good she does.” Tom said thinking of those awful months you refused to see your family so you didn’t put them at risk.

“Well, tell her we appreciate the work she does. We would love to meet her sometime. You should bring her around a set or press tour sometime.”

Tom laughed. “I’ll have to try. She always turns me down though. Maybe if I film in London. But she does always make it to my premieres. Thankfully we almost always have one here in London, so it’s easier for her, but she’s made the trip to LA a couple of times.”

“Can’t wait to meet her one day.” Tom smiled at Gerald. “So you said you’ve been in Germany…”

Gerald continued with his interview. Once he was finished with that one he went right into the next. He spent three hours doing interviews and you never woke up once. He was grateful you were getting rest. When the final interview ended, Tom went over to you and gently picked you up. You stirred in his arms.

“Tom?” You said tiredly and confused. “Where are you taking me?”

“My room. You need more sleep and I need a nap. We can go out for dinner afterwards.” He said as he sat you on his bed. He walked to the other side.

“Okay.” You said rolling over towards him. “I love you bubs.” You whispered. Tom wrapped you in his arms and kissed you on the head.

“Love you too y/n/n.” He whispered back before you both fell asleep.

#tom holland #tom holland sister #tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland x sister #tom holland x holland!reader #tom holland x y/n #brother!tom holland x sister!reader #holland!reader #Holland!sister #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland oneshot #tom holland rpf #tom holland real person fic #brother!tom holland

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juleswolverton-hyde · 3 years

Text

Not by the Moon | 08

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, eating disorder (personal experience, don’t be a bloody twat), heavy(?) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom trying to be a normal boyfriend

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

I am seeing a trend starting to develop where every chapter turns into a behemoth that makes me not want to edit it at all. Nevertheless, I pulled through on this one despite being in the middle of a 32-hour work week and being absolutely exhausted.

Summer holidays, you said? I only see extra shifts and little me-time nor writing time and inspiration. That said, though, be prepared for some heavy worldbuilding because the plot thickens.

Also, and this has been edited in the previous chapter, a new special someone makes his debut in this chapter. Is this also a hint about whose story is next?

Who knows?

I don’t know.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

“Jaebeom? Jay!” I nudge the big man’s shoulder to signal for him to step aside so I can turn the stove off before the burned pancake catches fire. “That’s the third one in a row.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly. “I- I have a... I can’t focus.”

“Is it because of this morning?” If so, then that makes two of us. However, I tried to forget as best I could by working with timed productivity sprints instead of writing the article on Bruges in one go. It worked fairly well until lunch time came around.

That’s when I, too, couldn’t escape the claw mark.

The image of it flashes before my eyes once more, joining my thoughts with his if his blank look is anything to go by.

How did it get there? What did you do?

“Yeah. Morning. I... I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, this should be a nice evening. A cozy night in. You deserve my attention, for me to,” his breath tapers as he finishes the sentence, “be here.”

The quiver in his lips makes the roof of my mouth dry up and my mind empty save for gut-stirring concern, unable to think of a proper response. Nevertheless, I look for words to say what seems best. Like I did this morning when I went to get his medication. “How about I take it from here and bake the pancakes? You already made the batter and I can’t let you do all the work.”

“I like cooking for you.”

“I know you do, but it’s fine. Really,” I gesture at the couch by the living room window, which provides a glimpse of the small balcony, “sit down. I’ll call you once dinner’s ready.”

“Y/N,” he reaches out for my hand yet only dares to hold my fingertips, “I’m sorry I can’t be more.”

The crack in his voice breaks my heart. But its the vulnerability written across his normally stoic face which tears me apart at the seams. Whatever he means, it’s nothing to do with this morning. Rather, it’s about him as a person, the wonderful man he is.

Throat blocked by something I can’t swallow, I scan his attitude for any hint about what he truly means. “What’re you on about?”

Let’s just forget about it for a little while and be a normal couple. I promise I won’t run away despite what happened.

Unfortunately, Jaebeom dismisses the question to make a point I wish he didn’t. “We both know what’s ahead. But, sometimes it’s as if you’re avoiding the inevitable.”

I let out a deep sigh, caught red-handed. “I’m not, because I know or, rather, can guess where this is going. I just don’t know how to respond at times. And I don’t want you to feel bad so I try to keep the mood high as best I can. To, well, keep us both happy.”

“Is your avoidance of food also part of that?” he asks, carefully formulating the question while keeping a close eye on any change in my demeanour.

“Yes.”

“I hate it when you don’t eat.”

“I know, but if you knew the reasons behind it, you’d understand why it’s difficult for me. Although, I want you to know that I’m trying to keep my promise to you and eat when you tell me to.” I cup his cheek, lovingly swiping my thumb to and fro over the tanned skin. “It’s really hard to escape your determination. You’re very insistent on things.”

“Too much?” Eyes dim and glistening with withheld tears, he nuzzles my palm.

“Sometimes.” I kiss the tip of his nose and smile, a sign of happiness that’s only half a lie. “It doesn’t make me love you any less. Now, let me be a proper girlfriend and cook for you.”

Regardless of the wonderful sight of Jaebeom wearing an apron and being absorbed in his element in the kitchen, it’s equally as wonderful to have something to eat tonight. Secretly, I would rather have made a healthier and less calorie-rich dish, but we both need a bit of a reprieve from last night. Thus, for the sake of us both, I’ve decided to let go of my rules for a little while.

To enjoy something sweet.

As wholesome as the sight of the wolf man seated on the couch, knees pulled up with round gold-rimmed glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose as he reads the novel he apparently borrowed from my bookshelves. I should write a little note on the title page and give it to him as a present so he’ll have one of my books like I have his.

They’ll be on his shelves for as long as we’re here.

Be there even after he’s gone.

Then they will return to me yet still be his.

He will still be with me.

The pages filled with his love.

It’s everything that will be left of him.

His legacy.

His remains.

The thought leaving me filled with bittersweet affection, I cut the fruit to put on top of the pancakes while gradually using up all the batter. Were it not for the move to the cottage at the end of the month, I could easily be content here if he’d ask me to move in. Wherever we are, evenings like these might become a common occurrence, a splendid reward at the end of a long day at the office.

They could turn any place into our home.

The long road of the lone wolf would finally come to an end.

Because as long as he’s there, I’m home.

“Mind your head.” Despite the warning, Jaebeom nevertheless puts a hand on my head while he opens the cupboard above to grab two plates.

“I was just about to say dinner’s ready.” I let out a breathless laugh, hardly hiding the sobs at the thought of one day having to live without his touch. “Talk about timing.”

For a second, a curious expression treks across his face. It passes by too fast to properly describe it, but it seemed to be triggered by the meaningless remark about his return to the kitchen.

When a dangerously short and sharp breath escapes me, he swallows it with a kiss. Perhaps it’s the sorrow of knowing a storm lies on the horizon that makes me delusional, but a soft whine rises in his throat each time he kisses a stray tear away as he peppers my face in small pecks.

Satisfied he has taken the sadness more or less away, the corners of his mouth curl into a lop-sided smile as if nothing happened. Notwithstanding, it isn’t hard to figure the blissful ignorance is merely feigned. “Right. Timing.”

Our gazes lock and neither of us says a word until he perks up and motions for me to step back. “Fork and knife.”

Discombobulated by the shared confusion, I indeed set a step backwards so he can open the drawer. In the meanwhile, as Jay sets the dinnerware down, I put the final pancake on the stack and set it down in the middle of the table.

Chest puffed out, I clap my hands. “Dig in.”

Like yesterday, Jaebeom insists on doing the dishes while I settle down for the night. However, whereas I gladly did before, I now do with an uneasy mind. Arms wrapped around my knees, my thoughts run down a familiar dark path.

I ate too much. Maybe I should go home and do a workout. Then again, I really don’t want to even though I have to.

“Y/N?” The faint though surprising mention of my name breaks the imaginary stones weighing down my shoulders. I snap my head to the side, almost headbutting the wolf man who has appeared at my side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lips pulled into a wistful smile, I scratch him under the chin in hopes of distracting him to the degree he won’t be able to ask further questions. “I’m tired, that's all.”

Unfortunately, Jaebeom is like a guardian who somehow notices a lot despite his absent-minded demeanour. Henceforth, the topic is all but abandoned.

Without warning, and as effortless as if he were picking up a book, he lifts me up from the couch to hold me in his arms. Instinctively, I clutch his loose black shirt to have a grip of something in case I fall. It’s an ungrounded fear since his arms are sturdy, but it’s comforting nonetheless to have something to hold on to.

My haphazard action elicits a low chuckle that makes my heart skip a beat, although it almost thumps out of my chest again as he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s go to bed.”

“It’s only eight o’clock,” I sputter, chest tight and no breath sufficient enough to lift the sensation. “Besides, I- I don’t have any fresh change of clothes or toiletries or a pyjama.”

Did he turn the central heating up?

“Doesn’t matter. Can borrow. You. No, that’s not right. You… you can. You can borrow clothes from me. Also, I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere around here.”

“Jay,’’ As best I can, I try to keep my tone steady though the words come out too fast and uneven regardless, ‘’I think I should go home.”

If I don’t and I won’t get in some more exercise, I’ll gain weight and slowly go back to how I was.

And I’ll lose him.

Back to square one.

Loveless.

Despite the effort, I can’t prevent the crack in my voice as I weakly tug at his shirt. ‘’Let me go.’’

“No.’’ The gentle kindness has malformed into rough sternness, translated in a sound similar to a growl. ‘’You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” I retort, more ferocious and sharper than intended though the equal harshness might help to drive the point home.

For a split second, he snarls and bares his teeth. Simultaneously, a flicker of a second personality passes across his mismatched eyes.

The calm ocean warps into a watery grave with high waves on a stormy night.

The hazelnut cracks to set that which it contains free.

His lashes abruptly flutter shut, as he lets out a pained gasp. Beneath my fingertips, his chest caves as if an imaginary fist has dealt him a blow in the guts.

And in mine as well.

Rippling flesh.

There’s… there’s no… Jay, what is happening to you?

I hold on tighter to the fabric, hyperventilating while trying to refrain from bursting out in tears.

There has to be something I can do! But what? What do I do? How can I make this stop?

How do I get you back?

Withal, shivering lips parted to beg for guidance, are interrupted by a shake of the head hanging low. Slowly, Jaebeom looks up, a light layer of sweat on his skin. Our gazes lock, but whereas the wolf man’s was filled with savage chaos, it’s now returned to the stern tranquility it held before the attack. Nonetheless, an uncomprehending whimper betrays the fact that whatever happened wasn’t experienced consciously.

The rage was beyond him.

Outside him.

Another’s.

Still breathless, he scoffs, the sound gruff and overtly disagreeing. “Let’s watch the moon and stars.”

There is no chance to ask any questions about the swift changes in demeanour since he promptly moves to the hallway and up the stairs towards his bedroom. The bedframe of the two-person bed also functions as a bookshelf which takes up the entire right wall, the shelves stacked with second-hand paperbacks in various conditions. An empty picture frame is placed on his side of the bed, a pair of glasses next to it.

Jaebeom puts me down on the navy wool blanket on the edge of the bed and leans in to steal a kiss, which is easy to do considering I’m too shaken to offer any protest. Nor do I feel the comfort of his lips. “Take your clothes off. I’ll go find you pyjamas.”

A tad reluctant, mind occupied by guilt and terror, I start to undress as he rummages through the wardrobe on the other end of the room.

Left only in my underwear, I sit down on the edge of the bed. Although he’s seen me naked once, I still wrap my arms around myself to hide my body. A shield to protect a fragile ego housed in equally as vulnerable body flesh.

Afraid of what might happen when those ripples grow out of control.

Terrified of who he will become.

Of who he is.

“Don’t.” Jaebeom turns around with a black hoodie and grey sweatpants in his hands, eyebrows drawn together. He closes the drawer, throws the clothes on the bed, kneels, and firmly yet gently grabs my wrists to break the walls I put up. And I let him. “Don’t hide from me.”

Not understanding where the shame originates from, he grows still as he scrutinizes my face for clues. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Instead of giving an answer, I change into the makeshift pyjamas. The hoodie is oversized yet comfortably baggy while the sweatpants hang disconcertingly low on my hips. Fortunately, any skin it reveals is covered up by the top.

Continuing to avoid his gaze without saying a word, I crawl under the sheets. Face turned to the window, I pull up the blanket he drapes over me and bury my nose in it.

A wild forest and cologne with a musty hint of pages.

It’s undeniably him.

I don’t know what else to do or say. So, I let the silence speak for itself.

A language he is fluent in too despite his oftentimes loud demeanour.

The mattress dips under his weight when he lies down and rearranges the sheets to cover us both. An arm wrapped around my waist and legs tangled, Jaebeom pulls me flush against him, his chest warm against my back.

A sob rises in my throat when I feel his lips place a kiss on my crown with a sigh of contentment.

I don’t deserve this.

Us.

Him.

The fear of losing him to whatever is happening inside.

Then again, Life isn’t fair. It deals everyone the same awful hand and leaves it up to the player to make the best of it.

I guess we’re both dealt a crappier hand than others. That, or we play them wrong.

Can we win at all?

“Talk to me.” As loving and happy as the casual intimacy of the embrace is, as forgetful it could make me if only I’d manage to fall asleep, Jaebeom’s oddly sweet cooing keeps me awake.

Staring at the moon.

A woman as fickle as me.

And infinitely more beautiful.

Funny how I, too, am jealous of a celestial body.

In love with the heavens.

He continues when he notices I won’t be the one to break the silence, his intonation laced by a whiny undertone like a dog wanting something yet being denied what it wants. “You know what I’m dealing with. But...” he digs his fingers deeper into my hips, the grip iron-like without being painful, “I hope this is okay to ask, but what is it with you and food?”

The encouraging squeeze in my side almost has me bursting out in tears again. There has to be a price to pay somewhere in the shadows, the overwhelming sensation of being genuinely loved and protected must turn out to be as two-sided as the silver goddess in the sky. After all, Life is bittersweet.

“It’s only fair I tell you.” Especially after how open he’s been. Besides, there’s no opportunity to avoid the topic since we’d arrive at it sooner or later. And he deserves to know. In fact, I don’t want him to forget my brokenness the moment I tell him about it.

We both want each other to remember our own missing pieces.

So I sigh, turn over and bald my hands into fists to rest against the warm skin of his bare chest. As I speak up, I try to keep my voice as steady as possible. “I used to be quite a fat kid, to the degree the GP advised my parents to put me on a diet. Queue high school and social pressure which led me to perhaps work out more than is healthy and left me bordering on the edge of anorexia. There are still foods I won’t eat and days I’ll worry about my calorie intake, especially on the days I don’t work out.”

I can’t help the mirthless chuckle which turns into a rueful smile. “It’s the good old cliché. Just another soul broken for the shallow enjoyment and acceptance of others.”

Lips pulled into a stern line, the wolf man remains silent. Notwithstanding, his eyes speak volumes when I dare to look up at him, the ocean and hazelwood alight with a watery sheen. Perhaps it’s the comfort of his nearness or the familiarity of those one of a kind eyes, but he inspires a confession which I never thought I’d make. “Nevertheless, I’m getting better and it’s partially thanks to you.”

Morgan spamming me with ‘Have you eaten?’ texts and Bam making sure I finish my plate whenever we go out for food either here or abroad help a lot too. Nonetheless, it’s mostly the bookish wolf who makes me want to try.

And be a little better than before.

“What do they feel like, those days?”

“The bad ones?” Jaebeom nods. “They’re ridden with guilt and self-loathing.”

He leans in, leaving only a few centimetres of distance between our faces. His breath is warm on my skin as he bumps his nose against mine. “You’re feeling that way now.”

“I am.”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re still you. Beautiful as always. And I’ll love you regardless of how you look. I like your mind, which is as weird as mine. The way you hold my hand, as if you’re afraid I’ll walk away. How you unconsciously squeeze it when you need my protection more. How you feel in my arms, soft and warm as a bunny.” He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it upward to run his tongue over my lips and nose. “Love you. A lot.”

“I love you too.” I turn my head to nuzzle his palm, my face perfectly fitting into it.

Please, no ripples. Let us have this moment. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Let me have him, just him as he is. At least tonight.

The secure affection of the touch transforms into something else when he glides the back of his hand over my cheek and folds his fingers over my throat. Testing the waters, eyes boring into mine to stop at the slightest sign of discomfort, he slowly closes off my access to air.

It’s funny how the body and mind react to certain situations. Whereas I normally would flinch and run in the direction of safety, there is no urge to run. In fact, the tingling in my chest travels down to rekindle a familiar heat between my thighs while my adrenaline-infused system aches for the wolfish lover. Henceforth, instead of jumping up from the bed, I spread my legs so Jaebeom can comfortably nestle between them.

“Let me prove it. Let me mate you.” The calloused fingertip journeying across the collarbone to the crook of the neck sends a pleasant shiver down the spine. Another electric shock follows at the coarse prickly sensation of his moustache rubbing against my skin as his soft lips kisses and nips at it. “It will only sting a bit, I promise. Please, the mark will look pretty.”

“No biting, Jay.” Reminded of our agreement this morning and the movement beneath his skin when his emotions seem to get the better of him, I pull him against my chest. Before he can protest I scratch his jaw exactly in the way he likes it, thus subduing his great ability to argue. “Not today.”

“It’s not... hm, k- keep go- What do- Bit higher. There. Like, hm, mhm, there. But... what normal-’’ Arms wrapped around my waist again and letting out a content hum, dark lashes flutter shut. For a moment, it seems he’s fallen asleep. However, his drowsy murmurs, while growing incomprehensible, still haven’t finished. “It’s not what couples do.”

“You’re learning,” I giggle, amused by the remark which sounds like a student recalling a piece of knowledge during a test and repeating it for himself.

Without understanding the knowledge completely. “What do they do?”

Staring at the ceiling, I run my fingers through his long dark manes as I try to come up with ideas about what we can do next. “Well, you’ve already given me your clothes. We could try jewelry next, maybe a promise ring. It’s an old-fashioned idea, but people who are promised to each other wear matching rings.

‘’What mean? Promised?’’

I say nothing of the faulty grammar of his question. After all, speaking becomes harder once exhaustion overtakes the body and mind. I have yet to find a sleeper being able to form comprehensible sentences. ‘’They’re sort of similar to engagement rings, but without the immediate implication of getting married soon.”

“Let’s get en- enga- enge-’’ Jaebeom lets out a groan, frustrated by his lack of speech. Nevertheless, it doesn’t perturb him enough to completely give up on the effort to properly pronounce the word he’s struggling with. “En. Gage. Ment. Engagement rings instead.”

I let out a breathless chuckle, amused both by his determination and the absurd proposal. “It’s definitely too early for that.”

“It’s not!” He barks, shooting up with a pinched expression on his face.

Scratching him like before, I manage to calm him down enough to make him lie down on my chest again. Nonetheless, his discontent shines through in the gruff scoff he lets out. “It is.”

“What if...” Prompted by the idea in his mind, Jay scrambles upright to face me once more. Lips parted, the feral sharpness in his mismatched eyes is replaced by a twinkle of barely contained excitement. However, the enthusiasm dims with a shake of the head and a low self-deprecating chuckle that ignites my curiosity. At the same time, it also tugs at the strings of my heart. “No, it’s wrong of me to ask.”

“What is?”

What were you about to say? Don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me!

“Never mind.” He lies down again, nuzzling my breasts as he snuggles up into me.

Then, he slips his hand under mine to lift and compare it to his. “Cute paw.”

Fine. Keep your secrets, you big burly bastard.

“Go to sleep.” I push him off of me, earning myself a disappointed noise which resembles a yelp. “On the other side of the bed, please and thank you.”

In the days that follow, the movement like water set astir under his skin continues to haunt my mind. In fact, it does to the extent that even the keys beneath my fingers seem to flow rather than be pushed down, causing me to flinch for the third time in a row.

For the past hour I’ve been trying to type out the notes on an interview with a chocolatier in Bruges and compose them into a coherent article. An otherwise simple task my mind won’t allow me to complete despite the attempts to remember the good moments we had recently. The video calls right before bed, the cuddle session a few days ago when we gazed at the moon, his enthusiastic texts about and photos of new recipes Jaebeom tried. None of it prevents the likely imagined terrible from destroying our happiness.

I’m going insane. He’s a normal person. Somewhat. I was jet-lagged and therefore not thinking clearly.

That’s why I thought I felt his skin move. I was delusional.

Drunk on him.

A buzz pulls me out of my reverie, the screen of my phone lighting up with a message.

Morgan: Starving! Found a new café thanks to a friend.

Y/N: Let me guess. I have no choice but to come along.

Morgan: There wasn’t a choice to begin with :)

Y/N: Of course not. What am I talking about, eh? See you in five.

Chuckling at the woman’s classic brashness, I shake my head, pack my belongings and head to the elevators.

Outside, regardless of the November chill, it’s pleasant. The sun shines brightly and the wind blows the little bundles of fallen leaves at the roots of the birch trees lining the street into motion, scattering them over the neatly swept pavement.

Winter is around the corner. God, I hate the cold. Hopefully, there won’t be snow any time soon.

I sit down on the bench under one of the birch trees, its branches already bare.

Autumn is truly ending now. Shame. I haven’t even had a pumpkin spice latte and cinnamon roll yet. Maybe I should ask Jay out and find a nice coffee shop where we can get them. After all, if he’s there, we can share the pastry. He’ll be happy and I won’t have to eat the whole thing. A win-win situation.

Enjoying watching the people pass by, each stranger essentially a book with a unique story that is yet not entirely different from someone else’s. Withal, the world feels colder without him, the missing part embodied in the unoccupied spot next to mine.

A delighted sigh on the right makes me snap my head around, alarmed at the notion someone has appeared out of the blue on the empty seat.

A woman clad in a white suit and matching fur-lined coat with pale skin and brown hair glowing copper in direct light stares contentedly up at the clouds. She’s in her very early twenties, although the freckles dusting her cheekbones and rosy cheeks might simply make her look younger than she is.

For a moment, taken aback and speechless, I cannot help but blatantly gape at the otherworldly stranger.

Wow, she’s like a goddess.

A stone sinks to the bottom of my stomach as a dark thought intrudes my mind. My throat dried up, I twist my wrists, the muscles stiff beneath my fingers.

Would Jaebeom like her? If he saw her on the street, would he... would he stop and stare? Prefer her over me or even try and give it a shot by introducing himself?

“It’s a bit chillier than I’d like, but at least it’s better than rain or snow.” The woman turns to face me, her features soft. “I hope spring will come again soon, though.”

I don’t get the chance to respond because a familiar voice calls out. Not that I would be able to form a proper reply otherwise. “You’re here already?”

“I happened to be nearby,” the stranger turns away to answer as Morgan comes to a halt in front of us, a puzzled expression on her face.

“I texted you fifteen minutes ago and you said you had to clean up. I thought you’d join us later.”

“The birth and after birth went faster than I thought so here I am.”

“I’m sorry, but what is going on?” More than a little lost, I look from one to the other in hopes of being given an explanation. “I didn’t know we’d head out with the three of us.”

“Right, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Brigid.” The dark-haired woman holds out her pale hand in greeting. “I work at the hospital as an obstetrician.”

“I’m Y/N,’’ I reply, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Lass,” wonder turned to a darker version of itself yet not saying anything, Morgan shifts her attention to me, “you look famished. Come on, let’s go.”

Offering a few muttered words of agreement, I get up and sheepishly tag along with the other women. As we walk out the street and round a corner, following the signs leading to the artist district nearby the university, I’m occasionally tempted to join the conversation. However, as soon as a short silence falls, I don’t chip in, unsure how to contribute to the small talk they seem to deliberately keep up in order to avoid a topic neither is keen to discuss. Thus I walk in urban loneliness, my train of thought displaced on my face as I let the ghosts of Jaebeom’s skin freely haunt my mind.

Right before the descent into the darkness of the rabbit hole, strong long fingers wrap around my wrist and hold it in an iron grip. The slightly painful squeeze interrupts my reverie.

Jaebeom?

I snap my head to the side to find Morgan standing there, leaning in a bit and her voice low. “We’re here.”

I don’t know how I’ve managed to ignore the bustle of students looking for a free spot on one of the terraces and loud conversations accompanied by the rustle of the paper bags hailing from the shops owned by self-employed artists. It’s also miraculous that I haven’t bumped into anyone by accident.

“Oh,” is all I say, looking at the café we’ve stopped in front of.

Wolf’s is spelled out in a modern font on the sign outside and above the door. A big window provides visitors with a view of the plaza. The interior is simple yet cosy, the white furniture warmed up by oak accents and the bare walls decorated with various art pieces, centered around wolves and various flowers. By the looks of it, they were all made by a single artist who likes to experiment with style every now and then. A few plants are dotted around the place as well to add a hint of free nature to the underlying strangely forest-like aesthetic.

A tall broad-shouldered man with short curly chocolate brown hair partially covering up the scar running over his left eye, strong dark eyebrows and a big koala-like nose stands behind the counter. Both of his arms and hands are decorated with various intricately designed tattoos. Whereas Jay is muscled yet lean, the tanned barista looks like a man who knows how to fight yet is a warrior in a society without combat.

As soon as we walk in, his lifts his head and turns to us. Playful lights illuminate the milky white of his left and raven dark of his right eye. A meadow of snow, its glimmer reflecting off of the smooth feathers of a wise bird. “Hi, welcome. Brigid, long time no see.”

Nobody seems to notice it, but his female colleague, a short woman with long flowy caramel brown hair tied into a ponytail who has her back turned to us and is busy extracting a shot, cringes at the merry mention of the woman’s name. Slowly, she steals a glance at us, hazel eyes sharpening when they fall on the woman in white. Nevertheless, she remains silent and quickly returns her attention to preparing someone’s coffee.

Looks like I’m not the only one envying her.

It is wrong to hate a woman for her beauty. Nonetheless, although it’s shameful, part of me refuses to associate with Morgan’s acquaintance out of a toxic mixture of spite and jealousy.

Such is the female nightmare.

“So this is what you’ve been up to,” Brigid muses, nodding appreciatively while inspecting the coffee shop. “You’ve got a nice thing going on here, Rome.”

“Please don’t call me that anymore. It’s Christian now. Chris or Ian for short.’’ Muscled arms crossed, he grimaces and shakes his head while looking down. Notwithstanding, the stern attitude melts into casual friendliness as a bright smile forms on his lips. ‘’But I do, don’t I? However, it’s not just me running the place. I’ve had some help.”

He turns around and motions for his colleague to come over. For a second she doesn’t move, darting glances to each of us like an alarmed cat checking for danger. Notwithstanding, though clearly tense, she warily approaches and halts at the man’s side.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when Christian places a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, Gráinne here still helps me out every day. She’s basically the second owner.”

“I- I’m not,” she sputters in a soft Ulster accent, fumbling with her fingers and her cheeks flushed, “I just work here some days.”

“You’re a bit more than a colleague,” her co-worker remarks, shoulders lowered and his tone holding more affection than would be the case when talking to a friend. A warm glow seems to form around him, ignited by the fondness he harbours for her.

Funny, Jaebeom wears that same expression when he’s with me.

“I’m not.” Gráinne stiffens, each word dripping with venom as she steps away, grabs a serving tray and puts the order she was preparing before being called over on it. “Get back to work.”

Lips parted, Ian watches her as she moves past us as fast and agile like a hunting cat without any further acknowledgement of our presence. I hadn’t noticed before, but beneath her apron, she is dressed in clothes reminiscent of the Victorian era. “I know she can be harsh and isn’t easy to get along with, but I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Och, let it pass. She has every right to be pissed with you since you put her on the spot like that,” Morgan jokes though nobody goes along with it.

She likes him yet doesn’t see it’s mutual. Should I say something? Then again, this is their business, not mine. Furthermore, why would they believe me, a stranger?

So I remain silent.

And leave this to blossom however it is meant to in Fate’s hands.

The icy glare Gráinne gives Brigid behind her back sends a chill down my spine. Evidently, she is a woman not cross paths with once angered. Withal, as the fair beauty looks over her shoulder, the other woman restores her professional composure.

“You okay?” Christian asks as he watches her retreat into the kitchen, done serving for now.

“I’m fine,” she says thickly, the next breath hitching in her throat. Her focus shifts to the moon-shaped amethyst pendant around his neck. The ghost of a rueful smile forms on her lips, but it fades as fast as it appeared. “It’s not like I’m having a vision or something. Help them.”

She waves her hand dismissively when he doesn’t move, lips parted to say something yet at a loss for words. Notwithstanding, although I can’t see his expression clearly, it’s evident her feigned nonchalance is hurting him. “Go on.”

He clears his throat and forces himself into a rigid posture, frowning as he shifts his attention back to us. Finger hovering over the tablet functioning as a till, he stares at the display with an empty and distant gaze, which is as dull as the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “What can I get you?”

We place our order and settle down at the table by the window, neither of us offering a word of solace or dedicated to his colleague’s behaviour.

After a while, Christian comes up to us to serve the food and beverages. As he puts the plates with our sandwiches down, he and Brigid exchange looks like siblings telepathically conversing. Whatever it is they mentally discussed, it only leaves the barista a slight bit less worried though the grave expression plaguing him remains as he returns to the counter.

An expression which must be similar to mine since it prompts Morgan to speak up regardless of having her teeth sunk into sourdough bread, looking equally as somber. “What’s on your mind, lass?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head and stir my cappuccino with the vintage silver spoon next to the porcelain cup, smiling at my own silly assumptions of what happened now four days ago. “Everything’s fine.”

“Except it’s not.” The raven-haired woman cocks an eyebrow, far from willing to dismiss my worries. “Now tell me. Or, well, us.”

“It’s something to do with your lover, isn’t it?” Brigid remarks, head tilted to the side as she assesses me while sipping at her Irish Breakfast Tea. Her features soften when she notices she has hit a sensitive snare, evidently meaning no harm.

I pull back in my seat as I take a sip of my coffee, flustered and cursing myself for being an open book. There is no way out of this conversation since the current company is like-minded in their refusal to simply let the topic pass before it has been discussed.

I swallow, put the cup on the dish again and clear my throat. Fumbling with the spoon and eyes cast on the cappuccino’s silky milk foam, I tell them of what I think happened. The story sounds strange to my own ears, like a terrible fairy tale told by a chaotic storyteller who can’t tell it in a manner that makes sense regardless of how he manipulates the plot.

Afraid of their reaction, unable to fathom the slightest bit of sympathy and empathy, I look from one to the other. Fortunately, my silence can be excused by drinking the remainder of the coffee although it’s futile since the thirst has nothing to do with bodily needs.

“Sounds familiar.” The woman in white scrunches her nose in disgust as she glares at Morgan.

“He was different,” Morgan sneers through gritted teeth, jaw clenched.

“In essence, he was similar to her lover.’’ Brigid points at me though she remains focused on my best friend, her voice dripping with venom. ‘’Or should I say, is similar?”

“Since when does it matter what he is?” Thin lips painted plum purple curl into a mirthless smile, onyx locks shaking in discontent. “How hypocritical you’ve become. Forgetful of the past.”

“A past worth forgetting. It’s never too late to change your political opinions, Morgan.”

Great, now I’m the one to open Pandora’s box. I should have kept my mouth shut, changed the topic.

Desperate for help yet knowing he cannot do anything, I look for Christian among the other customers. Expression stern and standing as rigid as a statue, he watches our table from behind the counter. It appears he, too, feels the sense of danger increasing as the conversation carries on. Notwithstanding, as becomes clear from the apologetic shake of the head when our eyes meet, he also knows his hands are tied at the moment.

We are on the same boat, waiting to see how the situation will develop.

Playthings of Chance and Fate.

“We’re not here to talk politics,’’ the woman in question answers, covering her mouth with her hands while chewing on a bite of goat cheese and pomegranate seeds, ‘’but to have lunch like civilized and amiable women. To help our friend.”

“You’re right,” Brigid concludes. Nonchalantly, she pierces a piece of egg in her salmon salad and puts its on the bread provided with it, a bread called St Michael’s Bannock according to the menu. Then, she points her fork at me. “But the best thing you can do is leave him while you still can.”

“L- Leave?” Utterly confused, I look at the woman calmly eating her lunch. “Why would I do that?”

Who is she? What’s more, who is she to tell me to leave Jaebeom after what I told her? He needs help and support, regardless of what may or may not be there beneath his skin.

Unless she is on to something I am not and judging by the current circumstances, I won’t get an answer even if I dare to ask. Henceforth, if only not to snap, I clear my throat and swallow the vile words dancing on the tip of my tongue.

“Morgan can tell you why. All I can say is that it’s better to avoid men like your lover in the first place.” She coughs and takes a sip of tea to wash down the salad leaf stuck in her throat while the woman with hair as black as night chuckles darkly. Luckily, it is only loud enough for me to hear and Brigid is too busy preventing herself from choking.

“Sétan-, I- I mean Seán was the one to leave me, not the other way around. And we mutually agreed to part ways in favour of our own well-being.”

“Sure you did. Totally didn’t resort to throwing plates and other pieces of furniture because he rejected you.”

Morgan growls something under her breath, glaring at the woman seated next to me. However, Brigid doesn’t seem to notice the reaction she has provoked or is indifferent to it. “Or washed clothes at the ford where he so ‘happened’ to pass by. Funny how he died soon after.”

Ford? There are quite a few in Ireland, so where and most importantly, when was this? Then again, what are these two on about? Washing clothes in a ford, people dying, politics, lovers to leave. They’re like arguing voices from ancient times.

Moreover, there is the question of Seán’s life. Is he alive or dead? One moment she speaks of him as if he’s still here, but then why would Brigid remark he’s dead?

“You shut your whoremouth, traitor!” With a loud bang, Morgan slams her fists on the table. She stands up with an expression that makes me cower in fear despite not being the target of her wrath.

Behind the counter, Christian slowly comes into motion, carefully moving with the likely intent to inconspicuously circle our table and jump in if necessary. He flinches as Gráinne places a hand on his arm, holding him hard enough for her knuckles to turn white when he tries to escape from her grip in order to prevent the worst from happening. Notwithstanding, whatever the plan was, it goes to waste since he decides to listen to what his colleague tells him. Sighing deeply, he stands down although he continues to observe us.

Gráinne follows his gaze, which seems to be directed at the brown-haired woman in white, her personal target of envy. Her wolfishly fierce expression falters, growing as bleak as the ash of a great bonfire.

This time he doesn’t see how she comes apart at the seams.

Brigid calmly finishes her tea, daps her mouth on the napkin and stands up too. “Get over your crush. There’s no future for you with him. As for you, Y/N,” eyes oddly alight with motherly affection, she turns her attention to me, “and as a piece of advice from a friend, end this relationship while you still can. There’s only heartbreak ahead.”

“Thank you, but,” a wistful smile forms on my lips regardless of the urge to give into the savage nagging inside, “I can’t leave him because I made a promise to stay.”

“I see. Perhaps you’ll prove me wrong and the flowers will bloom in spring.”

And with those final cryptic words, she leaves the café after waving at the tattooed barista.

Or so Brigid intends, but her way is cut off by his colleague.

While clumsily taking off her apron she storms outside, clenching it hard and shivering as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Gráinne? Gráinne!” Christian runs after his colleague, pale and eyes wide with worry as he comes to a halt in the doorway. “Where are you going? Gráinne!”

Brigid places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a consoling squeeze. After giving him an encouraging slap on the back she sets off, leaving the man standing there like a defeated soldier.

“Poor lass,” Morgan whispers as she watches the female barista pass the window. Something in her tone hints at a level of familiarity between the two.

“You know her?” I ask, frowning.

“I don’t think she remembers me.” She glances at Chris, who has retreated behind the counter. He has his head bowed, smooth black locks hiding his face from the customers. Trembling fingers entwined to conceal his distress as best as possible, he resembles a man of religion fervently praying for forgiveness. “And neither does he. I saw him and his close friend, Finn, once in the woods. No, it was his brother, Jor… was it? When he came to the island. Was that… who was that?’’

A mist clouds her ocean blue eyes, lost in thoughts far removed from this world and time. ‘’He was there. As for Gráinne, we met… somewhere. There was smoke, a burning body. It was- It was at… where? Fuck, I can’t recall. I think it was at his fu-’’ she abruptly cuts herself short to correct herself with a strange undertone in her voice, “not long after I... saw them.”

‘’Morgan, are you alright? You’re looking awfully pale.’’

Instead of breaking free from the spell that has taken hold of her, the reverie only seems to deepen. Rocking side to side, she clutches her arms to her chest. Her skin, although naturally pale, grows sickly like a walking corpse.

‘’I- I’m supposed to remember. I’m one of the few that do. No, he and I are the only ones left that do. I can’t forget. If I do, everyone will. I can’t… I can’t!’’

‘’Morgan!’’ I stand up from my seat to rush to her side. Rubbing her arms, I try with all my might to bring her back to reality from the depths of deliria. ‘’It’s all right, Morgan, nobody is going to forget. Please listen to me and follow my voice, use it as a guide back to me from wherever it is you are. Please, come back to me.’’

‘’May I?’’ Christian has appeared with a glass of water, which he sets on the table before crouching down at the woman’s side as well.

Gently he grabs one of her hands and holds it, talking in a voice that is surprisingly steady and soothing in spite of what happened mere moments ago. It’s rougher and more gruff, making it hard to distinguish one word from another if you are not well-acquainted with the speaker.

In fact, it belongs to a completely different person. ‘’Morgan, as long as there are people who remember, there is nothing to fear. The past has taught us that what might seem like the end isn’t necessarily truly the end. We are still here. We remember because you do and you remember because we do. You’re safe and sound. Instead, return and help me make her remember.’’

‘’Why, of everyone, did you have to fall for her?’’ Gaze blinded by her mind, Morgan reaches out to tenderly run her fingers through the barista’s hair. ‘’What makes her special?’’

‘’She understands.’’ A similar fog veils the misty white and dark eyes, Chris or, rather, the stranger pulled into the same realm of consciousness as my friend. ‘’She broke the chains that bound me and doesn’t allow me to slip into the shadows of what I once was.’’

‘’You’re all the same, aren’t you?’’

‘’It’s rare to find understanding and acceptance in a world naturally turned against you. So, please help me. Help me find her.’’ His voice breaks, the begging words coming out high-pitched like a whining wolf. ‘’Help me find my reason to stay in this world and not forget nor be forgotten.’’

The veil lifts, the spell broken with the whimpered plea.

Christian falls back, but manages to catch himself before his head hits the tiles. Refusing every helping hand from the customers hurrying over, he scrambles to his feet. Fortunately, he accepts the chair I offer him when his dangerous swaying almost causes him to hit his head against the wall.

‘’Are you okay?’’

‘’Yeah, I’m only dizzy.’’ The hiss he lets out flows over into a sound akin to a growl. ‘’And a splitting headache.’’

Morgan has a better return to reality, completely fine aside from a dazed mind. ‘’What happened?’’

‘’You tell me.’’ I search her face for clues, a sliver of the knowledge she is lying. However, I find none.

She is telling the truth.

‘’I… I don’t know. It’s the first time.’’ She clears her throat, brow furrowed. As if having heard a noise, she snaps her head to the side. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Drink your tea, eat a sandwich and go home early from work.”

She hands the glass of water to Christian. ‘’And you, you drink this and stay seated for at least five more minutes until the dizziness has faded. Are you nauseous?’’

‘’No. Although,’’ he dry heaves, ‘’never mind.’’

‘’Make it ten. You look as pale as a banshee.’’

‘’Speak for yourself.’’

‘’You’d make a pretty one, though,’’ Morgan muses when she returns her attention to me. ‘’Beauty makes suffering leading to death easier.’’

Apparently, her return to reality has left her as mad as a hatter so perhaps it wasn’t as good as I initially thought.

“Why on earth would you say that? Besides, what kind of comparison is that, us and a banshee?”

“One based on truth. Now,” she shoves the remainder of her goat cheese and pomegranate sandwich to me, “eat, rest up and get cracking again. We’ll be in touch and visit the new café I found yesterday later, alright?”

“Hey, not so fast. Where are you headed off to?’’

She can’t be serious. There is no way she is unaffected by what happened.

“Attagirl,’’ Morgan says as if I promised to heed her words, ignoring what I actually said. ‘’By the way, ignore what Brigid said and stay with your man. It’s plain to see how he makes you feel.”

“It is?”

“You’re glowing and you come alive when you speak of him. It reminds me of how I was with Seán.” She starts as if awakened from a dream, but tries to hide her awkwardness behind a sheepish smile. “Well, then, take care.”

“You too.’’ The two simple words, otherwise casual, are now carefully chosen in order to not to trigger another ‘attack’.

My gut tight and skin prickling thanks to her inhuman behaviour, I watch the raven-haired woman leave. I hold my wrist, my pulse too rapid to be healthy beneath my thumb.

Like I am at death’s door.

The next morning, there’s an article in the newspaper. A man’s been found dead at the edge of the bogs near town. The cause of his demise is unknown, but there are witness accounts who said they heard a high screech late the night before. In the days that follow, their names show up one by one in funerary advertisements.

A week later, none of the witnesses are alive. Moreover, nobody has heard the screeching since, though everyone remembers the description of the sound.

It was like the howl of a banshee.

#JB #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #GOT7 #GOT7 smut #Jaebeom fanfiction #GOT7 Werewolf AU #GOT7 x Reader #Jaebeom x Reader #Jaebeom smut #Werewolf!Jaebeom #Werewolf AU #Werewolf!JB #Not by the Moon

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