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sluttywoozi · 1 day
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April Shower | jww x f!reader
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Wonwoo meets a lot of people through his career as a travel photographer. Not one of them has ever made him want to stay in one place, until he met you.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~12.0k Pairing: jww x f!reader | Genre: romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight
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Story Warnings: alcohol and food mention
Smut Warnings: masturbation mention, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, bigdick!wonwoo, wonwoo’s cold hands, size kink, light thigh slapping, fingering, oral reader rec., overstimulation, slight dumbification, squirting, sexual health/safety talk, unprotected sex (don’t do it), cumming on tits
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, like half a foot shorter than wonwoo, wap, has a cycle to track
AN: written for my bestie @sluttywonwoo’s birthday! kaili, the light you bring to my life is immeasurable and i’m so lucky i’ve gotten to grow with you over the past 7 years 💖
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Wonwoo draws in a deep, tremulous breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, wishing not for the first time that he was anywhere but the city of love. 
This is the second proposal he’s photographed today, the fifth this week, and while he’s always thought himself to be someone who doesn’t mind love, he’s starting to grow a bit… weary. 
His hotel room is obviously meant for two, as were many of the pastas and desserts he’s ordered so far. Everywhere he looks, there are people kissing or hugging or holding hands, their ages ranging from teens in puppy love to folks in their golden years shuffling down the street arm in arm, supporting each other as they have for decades. 
He’s been working as a travel writer for five years, been single just as long, but this is the first time he’s ever found himself feeling lonely. He’s usually restless, never wanting to settle in one place, and he’s almost always solo, reluctant to give himself to someone who might want to keep him. 
Lately, he’s felt a bit differently. Perhaps he’s getting old, outgrowing his bachelor lifestyle. He finds himself wanting to plant roots where before he was nearly offended by the notion of digging any deeper than surface level. 
There’s just something about Verona that begs to be shared, to be experienced with someone else. Maybe it’s the romantic music flowing from the restaurants he passes, maybe it’s the fact that he seems to be the sole single person in this city. Regardless of the cause, he actually feels alone, for the first time in years. 
It’s not a feeling he enjoys, or one he’s familiar with, and as he traverses the cobblestone streets, he almost wishes he was holding someone’s hand instead of the camera he’s carried for most of his life. 
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Wonwoo swears out loud when he feels the first drop of rain. He checked the forecast twice this morning, knowing he would be exploring an area a few miles from his hotel and that he wouldn’t be able to return to grab or drop anything off. 
With the weather appearing to be clear and sunny all day, he left his umbrella in his room and headed out to catch his taxi. 
He more than regrets that now, the rain starting to pour and his white button down beginning to soak through. He at least brought his water resistant backpack so for now, his camera is safe, but spending the rest of the day in sodden clothes sounds like actual hell. 
He looks up and down the street frantically, finding only personal residences, not a single shop in sight. 
Until he looks closer and realizes the building at the end of the row has a sign. He can’t read it from this far away, even with his glasses, but the hope is enough to propel him forward. 
He darts down the street, splashing through puddles and swearing again as he feels water permeate his socks. The store comes into view, the sign becoming clearer and clearer the closer he gets. 
Storie d’Amore, it reads. Love stories, of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the city of love. 
“It’s open, thank fuck,” Wonwoo murmurs as he wrenches the door open and steps inside, his clothes dripping all over the hardwood floors. 
He feels terrible tracking rainwater into this store, but he had no other choice. His water resistant bag is only resistant for so long, and his camera is far too valuable to risk. 
He glances around the small room, looking for the owner so he can apologize and instead finding shelves upon shelves of books. He walks slowly, squelches following each step, and reads over the spines. 
He’s shocked to find novels in all kinds of languages, some he recognizes and speaks and some he doesn’t. He’s relatively fluent in five thanks to his years of language classes and traveling, and he has to resist picking up a book in each of the ones he knows. 
He reaches the end of the first shelf, gasping at the large paned window he finds and gasping even louder at the black, tailless cat lounging on the ledge. 
The cat pays him little to no mind, lazily peering at him over their shoulder before curling into a small ball. They blink their big peridot eyes a few times and let out a heavy sigh, settling into sleep faster than Wonwoo could ever hope to. 
Enchanted, he swings his bag around to his front, digging through and pulling out his camera as quietly as possible. 
Even with the mid-April shower, the light coming in through the window illuminates the subtle white notes in the cat’s fur, giving them a glow he begs his camera to capture. 
He crouches until he’s eye level with the cat, holding his breath as he brings the viewfinder up to his eye and presses down the shutter button. 
The cat doesn’t stir, too deep in slumber to register the quiet click. He takes a few more pictures, trying different angles and light settings until he feels he’s gotten every possible combination. 
Maybe it’s stupid, but Wonwoo is more excited to share these photos than nearly any others he’s ever taken. 
Which is why he balks and falls flat on his ass when he hears, “Anubis is a model, you’ll owe us royalties for those.” 
Eyes wide, he looks around wildly to find the source of the words. There’s no one in sight, the store seemingly empty except for him and Anubis. 
“Up here,” the voice calls out, drawing his eye and making his mouth drop open when he finally notices a spiral staircase leading up to a small loft. 
He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He must have been too busy staring at the cat to really take in the rest of the store, and as you slowly step down, he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed. What he can tell is that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and that he suddenly wants to ask if you believe in love at first sight. 
“I can give you royalties! Please don’t make me delete them,” he pleads, far less embarrassed than he should be by the fact that he’s practically on his knees begging a pretty stranger to let him keep photos he took. 
You reach the landing and make your way toward him, your face unreadable. He’s surprised when you break into a sweet smile and hold your hand out to him. He hugs the camera close to his chest in response, making you roll your eyes and grab his free hand. 
The warmth of your touch is a shock to his system, but he holds back the shiver that wants to roll down his spine as you lean back and tug. Still confused, he lets you help him up, feeling self conscious in his damp clothes. 
He stands a little straighter when he realizes he’s over half a foot taller than you, the height difference giving him back some of his confidence. He’s not sure it should, especially with the unimpressed look you level at him when you set eyes on the trail he tracked through your store. 
“I’m so sorry, I can clean it up if you give me supplies,” he offers, fully serious and almost hoping you’ll say yes just so he can assuage his guilt. 
“These floors have seen worse,” you shrug, leaning down to pet Anubis, and Wonwoo has no idea what that means but he’s not about to ask. He introduces himself instead, shaking the hand still held by yours and repeating your name when you offer it. 
He’s only slightly jealous when you pull away and hook your hands under the cat’s body to draw him into your arms, though whom he’s jealous of, he doesn’t know. 
He would love to be holding the cat, but he has a sneaking suspicion he’d also love to be held by you. 
Your hand was so warm, and so soft, and the rest of you looks just as warm and soft, if not more. 
Anubis snuggles into your arms, his legs stretching and his toes spreading before he tucks them up against your forearm. His eyes go heavy lidded when you start to scratch his head, and now Wonwoo knows who he’s jealous of. 
He hates to admit it but it’s been years since he let someone touch him, and after just a minute or two of knowing you, he’s already hoping you’ll touch him more. He doesn’t know if it’s because you hold Anubis so lovingly, so gently, or if it’s because you have this aura about you that soothes him, or if it’s even because he feels this attraction, this draw to you. Maybe it’s all three. 
All he knows is that something about you makes him want to stay until his clothes are dry and the sun is setting, and then stay a little longer after that. Like for months, or even years, perhaps. 
He’s relieved when you ask if he’d like some tea, directing him over to the small fireplace in the back of the store and nodding to one of the chairs. When he sits, you lean down and plop Anubis in his lap, surprise painting your face when he doesn’t immediately jump down. 
“He’s usually wary of new people,” you hum thoughtfully, watching as the cat gets comfortable on his thighs. He brings his hand up and runs it over his soft fur, beaming up at you when he feels Anubis’s little body start vibrating beneath his palm. 
“I love him,” Wonwoo admits, his voice grave and his eyes open and true behind his glasses. 
You just laugh and say, “Me too,” before disappearing behind a door, leaving him alone with your cat. 
Rain is still barraging the building, the steady sound lulling him into a trance as he pets the sweet being in his lap. The fire warms him quickly, making him realize just how cold he was before, a small shiver attempting to wrack his body again. He keeps it contained to his shoulders, wanting to avoid disturbing Anubis if possible. 
He tells himself it’s just because he wants him to stay, but if he’s being honest, he also hopes that if you see that your cat likes him, then you will too. 
Before long, you return with a tray of steaming mugs, one for him and one for you. You set it carefully on the side table between the chairs, telling him, “I would let it steep for two more minutes. There’s also biscotti, and some crostini if you’re allergic to nuts.”
“Wow, thank you so much,” he breathes, his eyes wide. He’s run into some very nice people on his travels, but it’s been a while since he was met with such hospitality. Here he is, sitting in front of a blazing fire with tea and snacks waiting for him, after dirtying your shop and taking unapproved pictures of your model cat. Cat model?
“So, how much do you expect in royalties?” He asks with trepidation, knowing the magazine he works for is pretty big but maybe not big enough to pay residuals for pictures of a cat. 
You stare at him for a few seconds, squinting your eyes and quirking your head before chuckling, “That was a joke. Bubby isn’t a model, I just think he’s handsome enough to be one.”
“Ohhhh.”
Wonwoo feels himself blush, his cheeks and ears flaring red before he forces out a laugh to try to cover his embarrassment. He’s not used to jokes, usually relying on sarcasm, puns, and situational humor, and he’s a bit ashamed he didn’t realize you weren’t being serious. He stares down at Anubis, petting him softly so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 
“Tea should be ready,” you say brightly, picking up your mug with careful hands and kindly allowing him to recover without your gaze on him.
He follows suit, cupping his hands around the hot mug and bringing it to his lips so he can blow gently, huffing when steam fogs up his glasses. He pushes them up into his hair, thinking absentmindedly that he should get it cut soon as he takes his first sip. 
The flavors bloom on his tongue, mint, orange, cinnamon, honey, and something else he can’t put his finger on. It’s the most comforting tea he’s ever had, and he blinks over at you with misty, blurry eyes, sighing, “What is this? I need to buy four tons of it.”
“It’s called Evening Sorrento, it’s one of my favorites,” you smile indulgently, bringing your mug to your lips and drinking slowly before setting it down and reaching for the biscotti. 
He follows your lead, taking a biscuit and dipping it in his tea like you do. The first bite has him groaning in appreciation, dark chocolate, citrus, and almond blending together flawlessly, the taste only enhanced by the tea. 
“What’s the spiciness from?” He asks curiously, taking another sip to try to figure it out himself. 
“Ginger,” you whisper like it’s a secret. “I candied some and put it in the biscotti, too.”
“You made these?” He sounds astonished, he knows, but he almost can’t wrap his head around someone being able to create something so delicious when all he can do is fry an egg. He still burns it half the time, more scared of undercooking than he is of overcooking.
“Yeah, my best friend taught me how, she loves to bake,” you smile sweetly, seemingly pleased to see him enjoying the food you made. 
Anubis stirs, stretching out on Wonwoo’s lap before leaping onto the floor and up into your chair. You murmur, “Hi, baby,” and Wonwoo can’t help but grin as he watches your cat use your arm to pet himself. 
He asks how long you’ve had him, then for pictures when he learns you rescued him as a kitten, gasping softly at the tiny version of the cat as you swipe through photos. The conversation shifts to Wonwoo’s desire to adopt a cat before he explains why he can’t, and the way you look genuinely sad for him makes his heart swell. 
You ask more about his job, about the places he’s been and the things he’s seen, and in turn, he asks how you acquired all of the books in this store. It turns out you have contacts all over the world, friends who send you romance books when they come across them in exchange for a free one when they next come to visit. It seems like the perfect system, allowing you to collect novels in different languages and share them with the people you love. 
Talking to you is so easy that he doesn’t even notice how late it’s grown until you check your phone, a startled expression on your face as you say, “I should have closed half an hour ago.” 
He glances at his watch, blanching at the clock staring back at him. It’s been four hours since he burst into your shop looking for refuge from the downpour, and he doesn’t even know if it’s still raining. The sun has long since set, going down around six PM this time of year, which was over two and a half hours ago. 
He rises swiftly, nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in his slacks and thanking you for your generosity. You stand with him, hugging Anubis to your chest before offering the cat for one last snuggle. Wonwoo takes him carefully, bundling him up against his now dry shirt and smoothing a hand from his head all the way down to the nub at the end of his body. 
He starts purring immediately, the sound audible even over the crackling of the embers, making you smile softly and tell him, “Bubby likes you.”
“I like him,” Wonwoo beams, reluctantly handing the cat over when you stretch your arms out. 
“You love him,” you correct with mirth dancing in your eyes as you walk him to the door.
He peeks out, sighing in relief when he finds that the rain has stopped before turning to you. He almost doesn’t know what to say, goodbye feeling too final, too formal. He thanks you again instead, dragging his feet now that it’s time to leave. 
But he doesn’t want to be rude, or keep you any longer than he already has, so with one last wave and a scritch under Anubis’s chin, he leaves. 
You call out, “Come back soon!” and while he’s sure you say that to all your customers, he can’t help but feel like you mean it. 
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Wonwoo has a plan for the day: take the train to Venice, splurge on a gondola ride, and capture as many of the historical buildings as he can while the boat is guided through the canals. 
So why he finds himself standing outside of Storie d’Amore again, he doesn’t know. 
He managed to stay away for two days, hiking all over Verona and taking enough pictures to fill an SD card. He would have made it three if he asked the cab driver to take him to the train station instead of your place of business, but here he is. 
Some part of him wants to rationalize it. He didn’t get any photos of the area because of the rain, just of your (not) model cat, so he’s simply making up for lost time. That still doesn’t explain why he’s staring through the paned glass window at the end of your shop, hoping for a glimpse of you or Anubis. 
Obviously, you’re both here, but he doesn’t see either of you, and he also wants to buy a few books to take home, so it only makes sense that he goes into your store. 
He’s dry this time, thankfully, though he wonders if that means you won’t offer him tea and biscotti again. He can see a few people milling about, pulling books off the shelves to read the summaries and either placing them into mismatched baskets or putting them back. 
He does the same, searching for novels in the languages he knows with the intent of buying one of each. He’s gathered Italian, French, and English when he feels something rub against his leg, looking down to find a black cat staring up at him. 
“Anubis!” Wonwoo grins, leaning down to set the basket to the side so he can pick up his little friend. Holding him to his chest, he feels his heart warm as the purring starts, not even a little mad about the black fur accumulating on his shirt. 
“Oh!” 
He hears you gasp and glances up, smiling shyly at you and shifting to hold Anubis with one arm so he can send you a wave that only feels a little awkward. 
“I didn’t think you’d come back,” you say, stepping closer to him and taking in the basket at his feet and backpack slung over his shoulder. 
“You told me to,” he shrugs sheepishly, suddenly fearing that, “Come back soon,” is something you just say to everyone. 
“I didn’t think you actually would. I thought you’d be gone by now, on to the next destination.” 
He can’t tell if you’re happy to see him or not, but you haven’t kicked him out yet so he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. 
“The next destination can wait. I needed something to read on the plane anyway.” 
“Looks like you found more than just something,” you chuckle, peering closer to check out the titles he’s gathered so far. “All good choices,” you smile up at him, and he feels something unlock in his chest to make space for you. 
“Can I take you out on a date?” He blurts out, his eyes widening and his free hand flying up to cover his mouth. The words escaped without his permission, but he can’t say he wants to take them back. 
You tilt your head and look at him for a little while, like you’re searching for something, and you must find it because your smile grows before you nod and say, “I can close early tonight. Does seven work for you?” 
“It works perfectly,” he breathes after lowering his hand, his heart racing and his body feeling warm for once. 
A customer calls out your name, making you glance over before you turn back and say, “Leave your books at the register and meet me here later?” 
He can only nod, grinning too wide to manage any words. 
“Don’t take my cat, I love that little guy,” you warn him playfully (he thinks) and spin to find the source of the voice. He can hear you speaking in rapid French, easily translating it in his head without even meaning to. They’re asking for your help in choosing between two books, one a tragedy and one a comedy. 
You go over the pros and cons of each genre and offer your own personal opinions on the specific books, making Wonwoo wonder if you’ve read every novel in here. You seemed to recognize the books in his basket and you apparently know the ones this customer is talking about; maybe you read them as you receive them? 
But there are so many, there’s just no way, he thinks, letting Anubis wriggle out of his arms to follow you. He supposes that’s something he can ask you at dinner, the thought bringing a pleased little smile to his face. 
He selects his last two books and wanders over to the checkout counter, stashing his basket on the stool behind it before heading out to get pictures of the neighborhood while he can. 
He’ll be busy tonight, after all.
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Wonwoo returns to your shop five minutes before the clock strikes seven. 
He slips in without your notice, making his way to his favorite window and sitting down on the ledge next to Anubis to scroll through the pictures he took while he was out. The cat just sprawls a bit more so his feet are touching Wonwoo’s thigh, the tiny points of connection warming him from the inside out. 
He captured another proposal today, but this one didn’t leave a hollow feeling in his chest like the others. Now that he’s thinking about it, neither did any of the couples he passed. He was able to truly appreciate all of them without that sense of bitter loneliness, and he can only attribute that to meeting you. 
An unbidden smile stretches his lips as he thinks about the time he spent sitting by that fire with you, talking about anything that came to mind. It’s been months since he spent four straight hours with someone, just talking. It’s been years since he wanted to. 
A tiny part of him fears he only feels this way because he’s been so lonely, but the rest of him knows he’d be enamored with you no matter what state he was in. 
This is only confirmed when you round the bookshelf and come to a stop in front of him, an emerald green dress swishing over your thighs and a smile brightening your face. You cleared the store in the time he spent reminiscing, leaving the room empty but for you, Wonwoo, and Anubis.
The air feels tense, heavy with something Wonwoo can’t quite identify. It’s only when he rises to his feet and finds himself closer to you than he meant to be that he realizes that something is potential. 
It’s the same rush of anticipation that fills his chest when he lines up a shot he knows will be incredible, when he finishes climbing a hill and sees the perfect sunset waiting for him, when he finally finds the words to describe the indescribably beautiful. The fact that he’s feeling it now, with you, tells him everything he needs to know. 
His previous fear of meeting someone who would want to keep him has become a dream, a wish that he can only hope will come true, because now Wonwoo knows he wants you to take hold of him and never let go. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice so full of longing, it’s almost embarrassing. 
“Before the first date? The scandal!” You say dramatically, feigning offense and lightly tapping him on the chest. He gasps at the contact and covers your hand with his, pressing it flat to his pec so you can feel his speeding heart. 
You must realize how serious he is, how desperate, because the playful smile falls from your face, your gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He feels himself flush under your attention, his ears and the back of his neck hot as you stare up at him. 
“Yes, Wonwoo. You can kiss me,” you breathe softly, your face tilting up and your eyelashes fluttering as he begins to lean down. This moment feels monumental for some reason, like something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, and as he cups your face and carefully presses his lips to yours, he figures out why. 
Everything about kissing you feels right, as if all of his jagged pieces have fallen into place, as if this is what he was destined for, as if the fates connected him to you with an invisible, unbreakable string. 
He wasn’t restless, he wasn’t a bachelor, he was just waiting for you. 
Suddenly his smile is too broad for him to keep kissing you, giddiness flowing through his veins as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. He leaves his hands on your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone before biting back his grin and kissing you one, two, three more times. 
He feels shy when he takes a step back, letting one hand fall to catch yours and squeezing like it’s a lifeline. 
“Was that… life-changing for you too?” Wonwoo asks quietly, scared to pop the bubble he’s found himself in with you. 
“Maybe,” you whisper, vulnerability evident in your voice though your face gives nothing away. “We should get going.”
“Yeah, yes, we should,” he lets you pull away even though it physically pains him, following when you tug him to the door with the hand he’s still holding. 
He doesn’t know what just happened, why you closed yourself off, but he’ll give you the space you seem to need, sure that if he pushes it will only make you freeze up more. For now, he’ll take you to that romantic riverfront restaurant he passed earlier and encourage you to order any and everything you like. 
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You ease up a bit after a glass of wine and some shared appetizers, the smile on your face genuine again though your light still seems dimmer than it was before. You ask him a lot of questions but don’t offer up much information in return, keeping your responses short and to the point. 
It doesn’t disrupt the flow of conversation at all, thankfully; Wonwoo and you are compatible enough that it’s easy to bounce from one topic to another. There’s never a pause, never a moment where he doesn’t know what to say, and even with you being more withdrawn than expected, he still laughs himself to tears more than once. 
It’s late by the time he pays the bill and walks you home, which he’s learned is the building right above your shop. There aren’t many people out, and though he startled you when he took your hand in his, he continues to hold it the whole way back. You’ve gone quiet again, pensive, making him wonder if he’s done something wrong, or, worse, if you regret kissing him. 
You only started acting like this after he pressed his lips to yours, after he asked if it was life-changing for you like it was for him. 
He doesn’t know what else it could be, unless you figured out you just don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you. His heart drops into his stomach at the thought, his fingers subconsciously clenching around yours, making you glance up at him in concern. 
He stares forward resolutely, not ready to see confirmation of his fears in your gaze. 
By the time that big window and Anubis’s sleeping body come into view, Wonwoo has convinced himself that you feel nothing but friendship for him and simply don’t know how to say it. 
Still, he can’t help but try, one last time. 
“Do you think I could see you again before I go? I’ve got plenty of pictures and I fly out tomorrow night, so my day is clear.”
You take a second to think about it, your eyes shuttering as if you don’t want him to see the thoughts behind them, before you answer solemnly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh,” he breathes out, feeling like all the air has been pulled out of his lungs. “You don’t… think it’s a good idea. Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll just go, then.”
He can’t even make himself look at you, knowing that his mouth is pinched in the way it does when he’s trying not to cry. He squeezes your hand once more before disentangling his fingers from yours, taking a step back, and turning to walk away so you can’t see him lift up his glasses and rub at his burning eyes. 
He doesn’t get far before you call out his name. 
“Wonwoo! I… It’s because you’re leaving,” you sound as close to tears as he feels, your voice plaintive and fragile. 
He stops short and chews on his lip, swiping at his face with rough hands as your footsteps sound on the cobblestones. You let him stay where he is but he feels your fingers clench in the back of his shirt, like you’re afraid he’ll still walk away. 
That touch is enough for him to turn around, his hand catching yours as it falls and his heart stuttering at the sheen of tear tracks on your face. He brings his other hand up to brush his thumb under your eye, sweeping away a freshly fallen drop. 
“Is that why you said maybe, after I kissed you?” He asks in a gentle, low tone, less fearful of the answer now. 
“Yes. This has an expiration date, I don’t get to keep you. I couldn’t admit that just one kiss had me ready to sell my shop, buy a new cat carrier, and join you on the road,” you laugh softly in a self-deprecating way, avoiding his gaze again like you’re embarrassed. 
“Y/n, when I said it was life-changing for me, I meant it. As in, I would change my life for you. I can transfer to the Italian branch, go on shorter assignments, find a place here. You can keep me.”
“Wonwoo, I can’t ask you to do all that for me. I mean, we only met a few days ago, how do you know you won’t regret this?” You sound reluctant to accept his offer, but it seems to be coming from a place of worry for him instead of a lack of feeling, and he can work with that.
“I’ve been thinking about settling down anyway, I just needed a sign. Meeting you was that sign, and getting to know you like this has only made me more and more sure. Please, all you have to do is believe in me.”
Finally, you meet his eyes, searching them like you did when he asked you out, and once again, you find what you’re looking for. A watery smile stretches your lips as you step closer to him and up onto your tiptoes, wrapping your free arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug. 
His eyelids flutter shut, his arm vining around your waist and hauling you up against his body so you can feel his galloping heart. He presses his lips to the top of your head and breathes you in, finding your scent absolutely intoxicating. 
It’s fruity like pomegranate but sweet and floral too, reminding him of the lotus flowers he stumbled across in the southern Himalayas. There’s an underlying warmth, a natural musk that makes him wonder if you’re wearing perfume or if you just smell like this on your own. 
He doesn’t really care either way, not now that he has you so close, your joined hands coming up to rest against his shoulder and your body relaxing into his. You stay like that until his heart returns to a somewhat normal pace, before he pulls away just far enough to look down at you. He tugs his hand free so he can cup your face, whispering, “I’m gonna kiss you again, okay?” 
“Please do,” you whisper back, taking in a shuddering breath just before he locks his lips with yours. You sigh it out into his mouth and he swallows it like it’s a benediction, your tongue dragging against his as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. 
He’s about to let out a groan when a wooden shutter bangs against the stone building above, a loud voice shouting, “Prendi una stanza!”
“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” You break away to shout back, grinning at Wonwoo’s flaming cheeks. 
“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” The shutter snaps closed again and Wonwoo bends over in a full body laugh, clutching his stomach as his abs flex with mirth. You’re not laughing like he is, but you are watching with affection and only the slightest bit of embarrassment. 
When he’s finally regained his composure, he straightens and wipes at his cheeks again, crying for a completely different reason than before. You smile up at him fondly, reaching out to fix his hair and asking, “Since you’re free tomorrow, do you want to come up for some coffee?”
Wonwoo doesn’t know if you’re really offering refreshments or if the coffee is a euphemism for something else, but either way, it’s an easy answer. 
“Of course I do.”
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Anubis starts meowing as soon as you unlock the door to your shop, loping over on graceful paws and weaving between your feet. 
“You had your dinner, why are you shouting at me?” You ask as you crouch to pick him up, holding him like a baby and scratching at his stomach gently. 
“Maybe he missed you?”
You mull it over for a little bit, nodding your head in acceptance and admitting, “I don’t usually go out at night, so maybe he did.”
“Is that why your neighbor was fine with us making out as soon as he figured out it was you?” 
You lightly jab him in the stomach with your elbow and he pretends to be mortally wounded, stumbling and groaning dramatically as if he’d been hit with an arrow instead. 
He supposes he has been, but it was one of Cupid’s, not one of yours. 
Anubis twists out of your arms and you let him, locking the entrance to your store and leading Wonwoo to the back. You unlock one of the doors with a huff of exertion and a jiggle of the handle, turning to say, “Old building,” before pushing the door open and letting Anubis dart up the staircase in front of you. Wonwoo jerks the door closed and locks it with the key you hand him, following you up the stairs in near darkness. 
The room you lead him into is a bit smaller than your store, containing a compact kitchen and warm living room flanked by a wall with two doors. “Bathroom is on the right, if you need it.”
He slips off his shoes and excuses himself to freshen up, taking care of his business and washing his hands quickly. Chancing a look in the mirror, Wonwoo finds that he’s flushed, aglow with infatuation, his smile irrepressible and wider than ever. He almost can’t look himself in the eye, knowing that all he’d find is adoration for you, and perhaps a bit of nervousness. 
He doesn’t know what to expect now, doesn’t know if this is leading where he thinks it is or how to act in whatever case. But, not wanting to keep you waiting, he opens the door and shuts off the light, finding you sitting at your dining table with a full french press and two mugs in front of you. 
He wants to speed over but he strolls instead, trying to appear at least a little unaffected. That facade is broken when he stops a few feet from the table, suddenly unsure of whether he should sit next to you or opposite from you. 
Blessedly, you make the choice for him, sliding one mug across the table before smoothly depressing the plunger of the french press. 
The rich smell of coffee permeates the air as you gracefully pour, filling his cup with the steaming, dark liquid before filling yours. “Is black okay? I have sugar and oat milk, if you need them.”
“Black is great, thank you.”
He’s acclimated to the bitterness enough to appreciate the deeper notes, though it’s only because he was once too shy to ask for sugar. He sips carefully, wondering with a satisfied hum if this really is the best coffee he’s ever had or if he just thinks that because you made it for him. 
You fall into an easy chat, discussing pictures he took and customers you had while he was out and about, before you bite your lip and stare down into your coffee like it’ll give you strength. 
“Wonwoo, can I ask you something… personal?” 
Your eyes slowly return to his, and the heat in your gaze makes him want to pop open a few buttons on his shirt and fan himself.  
“Sure,” he says, with only a little trepidation. 
“What are you like in bed?”
Oh. 
Oh. You want to know what he’s like in bed. 
Have you thought about what he’s like in bed? Have you thought about being in bed with him? Have you thought about him and touched yours-
He should answer you before he lets himself get carried away.
“Um, I’m a little different, I suppose. I like to be more… dominant. Maybe a bit rougher than I may seem,” his voice is hushed, and he wants to look away from the intensity of your stare, but he finds he can’t. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him, entranced him with a single question. 
“Is there anything specific that you like?”
This conversation, he likes this conversation. A lot. He can feel his slacks tightening with it, his heart thumping far too hard to be healthy and his mind starting to offer up ideas so fast he can barely make sense of them. 
They’re mostly images, sensations, feelings, all modeled after you. 
“I like,” he begins slowly. “I like being in control. I think I’d like holding you down, making you take what I’m giving you. I like talking,” he chuckles wryly, before continuing.
“I like listening too. I wouldn’t want you to hold back, I’d want to hear every little noise I could pull out of you. And I think I’d really like using my hands first, making you cum until you cry. Or until you beg for my cock.”
You suck in a ragged breath and glance away before looking back at him. Finally, he can read you, desire obvious on your face and in the tight knuckled grip you have on your mug. 
You set it down cautiously, aware of the still scalding coffee inside, and push away from the table to stand. Wonwoo watches you walk around to his side, his gaze fighting to stay on your face and not on the way your dress moves over your thighs as you get closer and closer to him. 
You stop just a foot away, holding your hand out and waiting for him to take it with a slight air of impassioned impatience. He places his hand in yours and rises to his feet, valiantly ignoring the view of your breasts from this angle and following you when you turn and begin tugging him to the door on the left. 
“Are we done talking?” Wonwoo asks, exhilarated and aroused, his dick hardening so quickly it leaves him feeling dizzy. 
“Not even a little bit,” you breathe, pushing the door open and facing him again as you walk backwards towards your bed. 
He crosses the few steps between you, crowds you up to the edge of the bed and pushes you to lay down with a gentle hand on your shoulder. His hands won’t stay gentle for long, and he hopes you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. 
“If you don’t like something I do, tell me,” he whispers before leaning down and taking hold of your legs, pulling them apart and filling the space in between with his hips. 
“I will,” you gasp as he grinds against you, your dress pooled at the top of your thighs, just barely exposing your black panties. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.” 
I like everything you do. 
You don’t say it but he hears it anyway, the corner of his mouth lifting in a soft smirk before he braces his hands on either side of your head and moves in close. He doesn’t kiss you yet, just watches the way your eyelids flutter shut and your lips pout in preparation. You peek an eye open when he continues to hold himself away from you, your hand rising to cup his neck and attempt to tug him down to you. 
The second your fingers come into contact with him, he shifts his weight to one hand and grips your wrist with the other, pushing it down to the bed and holding it there. You bite back a smile, wriggle beneath him to get more comfortable, and drape your other hand above your head. 
That, he likes, and he rewards you by releasing your wrist and dragging his fingers up your inner thigh instead, digging them into the warm, soft flesh and groaning when he comes into contact with your panties. They’re soaking, so much wetter than he expected, and when he cups his big, cold hand over the seat of them, you shiver and buck up into his touch. 
“How long has it been for you?” Wonwoo asks, as if it hasn’t been literal years for him. 
“Um, a while, it’s been… a while,” you admit, seemingly shy for the first time. He should reassure you, but he likes the way you shrink beneath him, likes even more the thought of being your first in however long. He plans on being your last for the foreseeable future, so it’s only right he’s the one to break your dry spell. 
“Good,” he grins wickedly down at you, pulling your panties to the side and letting his fingers glide through your arousal. You’re soft, and sopping wet, and hot, so fucking hot, just for him, and already he’s wondering if he’ll be able to make good on his words.
If he’ll be able to hold himself back from you long enough to make you beg for it. 
He’ll do his best though, for you, and that starts with not grinding himself into your thigh. He needs to forget about his own pleasure, focus solely on yours, or he’ll be balls deep inside you before he’s even made you cum once. 
That won’t do, not when he wants you writhing on his fingers and pleading for his cock. 
So he pulls his hips away from you and tucks the tip of one digit into your entrance, sliding it in slowly enough that your face crumples in impatience, a low whine escaping you when he just leaves it there and drags his thumb over your clit. 
He wants to take his time, wants to learn you with his hands and his teeth and his tongue, wants to catalog your reactions and be able to take you apart diligently, passionately, like you deserve. 
This teaches him that you don’t like to be teased, and he decides to shelve the idea of edging for another day. He’ll go with overstimulation instead, he thinks, working another finger inside and rubbing more firmly with his thumb. Your face relaxes, your mouth opening on a sigh, and Wonwoo can’t resist leaning down to suck at your plump bottom lip as he curls his fingers inside of you, not yet searching for the spot that will make you gush for him. 
He’ll find it when he’s ready, when he feels like he’s built you up enough, and then he’ll use it to push you over the edge as many times as you can take. For now, he’ll savor the taste of your noises and start stretching out your perfect cunt. 
He pulls away from your mouth, fully aware that he could get lost in your kiss and intent on talking to you more before he lets that happen. 
“You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You know that, don’t you? You know how your cunt hugs them, sucks them in deeper and deeper, because you touch yourself, right?” 
You nod and Wonwoo allows it, won’t make you follow all of his rules until next time, until he’s sure you can handle it. 
“Did you touch yourself for me that night? After we met?” He asks softly, rewarding you with a tap right into your sweet spot when you cry out, “Yes!” 
“Did you say my name when you came?” His fingers pick up speed inside of you, fucking in and out to the beat of his own pounding heart. 
“Yes, Wonwoo,” you whimper, your hands twisting in the sheets above your head and your eyes squeezing shut before he pulls his fingers out and lands a wet smack on your inner thigh. You gasp and try to close your legs but Wonwoo is stronger than you, holds them open with both hands before leaning in close to kiss the stinging skin and say, “Keep your eyes on me.”
You nod tearily, holding his gaze as he sinks his fingers back inside of you and hovers close enough to your pussy that he’s sure you can feel his breath. He quirks his fingers up just as his tongue makes contact with your clit, and the way your lashes flutter but don’t fall brings a proud smirk to his face. 
“You’re a good listener, aren’t you?” He murmurs into your cunt. You start to answer but then he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and you shudder out a moan instead. The sound sends electricity zipping down his spine and straight into his cock, making it throb for you in his slacks. 
He ignores it, shifting to rest on his knees and sucking harder, grinding his fingertips up into your front wall so he can draw that same sound out of you again. He told you before that he wanted to hear every little noise he could pull from you, and he meant it, including noises that don’t come from your mouth. 
You’re getting so wet, he can hear it, his fingers squelching inside of you with every thrust, every curl. He doesn’t remember his past partners being so aroused, and he’s already obsessed, already dead set on making you fucking drench him. 
He knows all he needs to do is make you cum and you’ll give him exactly what he wants, so he taps into your g-spot with more force, fucking his fingers into you hard and fast until your cries reach a fever pitch and your back arches. He doesn’t stop, dragging you through your orgasm and pushing you further even as your cunt ripples and squeezes around his fingers, the sensation so intense he almost feels the phantom pulse of you around his dick, too. 
It makes him groan, a deep, dark sound muffled by your pussy, and that seems to be what sends you careening over the edge again, your thighs attempting to clamp shut around him. He lightly smacks one with his free hand, gripping the soft fat and pushing it up and out so he has enough room to work. The other settles on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind that, likes the weight of it, wants you to feel stable and secure as he takes you apart piece by piece. 
You’re writhing on his hand, just like he wanted, your gaze teary and nearly empty, like your beautiful brain is focused on him and him alone, and ohhhh, he likes that, he likes that a lot. He wants to wreck you, wants to leave you with nothing in your head but thoughts of him and when he’ll make you break again. 
He doesn’t know if you can, but he’s desperate to see you flood him, to make you squirt all over him, regardless of the fact that this shirt is dry clean only. He’ll scrub it out in the sink if he has to, doesn’t care what happens to the fibers if it means he can make you cum hard enough to ruin them. 
You’re getting close again, he thinks with lurid satisfaction, his hand a blur between your thighs. He pulls away to murmur, “Hold your leg for me,” waiting for understanding to spark in your eyes. You wrap your hand beneath your knee and manage a wobbly smile, and Wonwoo feels affection burst in his chest like a firework, his lips curving in response as he brings his now free hand to your cunt. 
His fingers push at the crest of your pussy, exposing your swollen clit for his thumb to cover, the pad of it pressing down and rubbing harsh circles. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes water, your mouth stuck open on a needy moan that grows louder with every tap of your g-spot. It’s a whine soon enough, one that hitches in your throat as he fucks you with his fingers, and when he grinds his fingertips deep into you, he sees alarm grow in your eyes. 
You try to warn him but you can’t seem to speak, only blubbers of his name gracing his ears, making him grin ferally and say, “Don’t worry, baby, I want it to happen. I want you to fucking soak me, now.”
He honestly didn’t expect that to work but apparently, you can cum on command, or, as he tells himself, on his command, because you suck in a deep breath and keen for him. Your cunt flutters wildly around his fingers, clenching down on them and sucking them in before tightening to the point that he can’t move them, his fingertips locked into your sweet spot as you fucking gush. 
He can feel it spraying out onto his face and dampening his button down, arousal flowing out of you like a rushing river, making him groan out, “Fuck yes, just like that.” 
His voice is gravelly and low, desire deepening its pitch, and you shiver above him, though that may have more to do with the thumb still strumming your clit and the fingers still plugging you up. 
He could go again but he doesn’t want to push you too far this first night, doesn’t know where your limits lay or if you’re ready for him to find out for himself, so when your walls finally release his fingers, he slowly pulls them out and gently cups your pussy to help you calm down. 
He’s surprised when you speak, and even more shocked that it’s enough to make him laugh out loud. 
“All that and you didn’t even take my dress off,” you mumble, letting go of your thigh and reaching down to drift a hand over his hair, petting him like he’s an animal you’ve domesticated. 
Maybe he is, and maybe you have. You’re the only one that’s ever made him want to stay, to plant roots, to be domestic. 
Fondly, he says, “I did that on purpose. Now whenever you wear it, you’ll think about me.”
“I don’t need the dress to think about you, Wonwoo, I promise you that,” you hum, letting your eyes slip closed and missing the way his gaze fills with infatuation as he rests his cheek on your thigh and wraps his hands around your ankles. 
His glasses are splattered with you and so is the rest of him, his cock is hard and aching and leaky, and his knees are all but decimated from kneeling on your wood floor for so long, but Wonwoo has never been happier in his life. 
“Will you fuck me now?” 
His brows raise in disbelief, his fingers twitching on your legs, and he stands as quickly as he can manage, bracing one hand beside your head and taking hold of your chin with the other. You blink open your eyes to look at him, the haze in them just a bit clearer, though he’s sure your thoughts are still clouded with pleasure. 
“You still want me?” He asks in full seriousness, his dick pulsing at the thought of feeling your flawless cunt wrapped around it. 
“Yeah, you gonna make me beg?” You murmur, your gaze just a touch defiant. 
He wants to fuck that rebelliousness out of you. 
“I said I’d like to, didn’t I?” He responds slowly, greed simmering in his veins and surely obvious on his face. 
Your eyes narrow before you visibly collect yourself, finding that submissive side you seemed to lean into before. He watches as you let it take over, shrinking beneath him somehow, the expression on your face needy and compliant.
“Please Wonwoo, please give me your cock. I’ve thought about it since we met, since I noticed how built you were under that soaking white shirt. Your shoulders are so broad and your hands are so big and you’re so much taller than me. All I wanted was for you to pin me down and fuck me however you liked, and that’s still all I want.”
He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, carefully concealing how fucking wild your words make him feel. He needs to maintain this illusion of control or you’ll gain the upper hand, and he can’t let that happen. He’s already going to give you exactly what you want, he’ll die before he lets you be smug about it too. 
It takes everything in him but he manages to pull away, releasing your chin and standing at his full height, a smirk rising at the way your hands leave their place above your head to cling to him. 
“Get up. Take your dress off,” he commands stoically, backing up and giving you space to push off the bed onto your feet. Your hands tremble as you reach for the hem, and in a brief moment of tenderness, he covers them with his and lifts it with you, laughing and helping you wrench it off when it gets stuck at the elbows. 
He stops laughing when you fling the dress onto the chair in the corner of your room and stare up at him, clad in just your skewed panties and a little bitten off grin. His eyes fall to your breasts, the shape and weight of them immaculate, just begging for his mouth. He fully plans on worshiping them at the next possible opportunity, but he’s got a different goal in mind now. His hands gravitate to your hips, fingertips tucking in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down before returning to push you gently toward the bed. 
“Lay down for me.”
Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s being soft on you now. He’s still hard enough to cut glass but something in him just can’t be harsh when he feels like he does about you, especially after you already took what he gave you so well. Maybe it’s the vulnerable look in your eyes, maybe it’s the way his heart feels three sizes too big for his chest. 
But maybe it’s because when he looks back on your first time together, he doesn’t want it to look like his previous encounters. He wants it to look like a couple that loves each other, that knows they want to be together, that will make sacrifices for each other. 
Obviously, dominating you can still look like that, but right now his soul aches to be gentle with you. Emotionally, at least. 
He’s still going to fuck you into your mattress, he’ll just be kinder about it. 
You can tell that something has shifted in him and somehow it makes you even more pliant, your face open as you patiently wait for his next instruction. He doesn’t give one yet, reaching up to take his glasses off and wipe away the drying release with the edge of his button down before setting them on your night stand. 
He works on getting naked, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, carelessly letting it float down to the floor as he undoes his pants. He removes his socks next, pairing them up and dropping them to the side before pushing down his boxer briefs. 
It occurs to him that you haven’t talked about safety at all, and as he climbs over you, his thick, leaking dick dragging against your skin, he asks, “Do we need a condom?”
You swear under your breath and look down, biting your lip before whispering, “I’m not on birth control, and I have condoms but I honestly don’t think they’ll fit you. Do you have any?” 
He swears too, remembering the expired one in his wallet and sighing, “Not one that we could use. I get tested regularly and I’m negative for everything, but what do you wanna do?” 
“Um, well… I haven’t had sex since I last got tested and everything was clear, so what if you pull out? I track my cycle and I’m not ovulating right now.”
It’s risky, and sex without a condom isn’t something Wonwoo’s ever had, but he wants you more than anything, and he believes in his ability to honor your wishes and pull out when he needs to. 
“Let’s do that this one time, and I’ll get condoms for the future,” he agrees, smiling at the way your eyes get brighter when he says ‘future’. 
He settles back into his role seamlessly, though this time, he’s less domineering and more caring, to be sure. Your legs are already spread for him, but he slips his hands under your knees and tucks them up to your chest, resting your calves on his shoulders and setting one hand on the bed to hold himself up. 
The other reaches for his dick, and he fights back a shiver at the chill of his own touch, his perpetually cold hands freezing compared to his searing hot cock. He can’t help but lay it over your pussy, feeling his ears and the back of his neck tingle with a blush when he estimates where he’ll end inside of you. 
You squirm beneath him and he brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling his hips back enough to notch the head of his dick in your entrance before starting to push inside. You’re tight like this, all folded up, but your walls part to welcome him like he’s a missing piece of you, like he’s always been meant to fill you up when you’re empty. 
He moves slowly, not to tease you but to savor you, luxuriating in the feeling of your velvet heat, your perfect cunt as it forms around him. It could be minutes or hours before he bottoms out, but when he does, he almost can’t think, he’s so consumed by sensation. 
He closed his eyes without realizing it, and now he forces them open, only to find you already staring up at him, your gaze unwavering and your hands coming up to hold his where they push at your thighs. 
You seem breathless, and it’s probably partly due to the position but Wonwoo prefers to think it’s because you’re as overwhelmed as he is, so wrought with pleasure that it toes the line of pain. 
You’re still shorter than him, even like this, so he has to curve down to kiss you but it’s worth it because you bloom for him, moaning into his mouth and clenching around his cock when he glides his tongue against yours. With your lips still pressed to his, he draws his hips back a few inches, enough to feel air cling to the wetness on his cock, before thrusting inside sharply. His hips meet your ass with a loud smack, the only other noise in the room being your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his lips moving against yours. 
Again, he pulls out, almost to the tip this time, and sends his hips forward, grunting at the feeling of your cunt embracing him. It’s perfection, you’re perfection, and he resolves to be nothing but perfect for you too. 
He swallows your sounds and categorizes them; you whimper when he pulls out far and thrusts in deep, moan when he just grinds himself into you, yelp when he fucks you with sharp, fast bucks of his hips. He follows their lead like he’s untying a knot or working through a maze, methodically dismantling you down to your nuts and bolts. 
You’re barely kissing him back when he finally derives the best combination of pace and depth, your lips quivering against his as you whine continuously, the pitch rising every time he reaches the end of you. Your eyes are open but they’re glazed over, and he can’t tell if he’s fucked you dumb or fucked you to tears but either way, it makes his lips stretch in a vicious grin. 
He loves kissing you but that’s not what’s happening anymore, so he pulls away and puts more of his weight on your thighs, using the leverage to fuck into you harder. He doesn’t go faster, knowing that if he does, this will end far sooner than he wants it to. 
He’d like to draw at least one more orgasm from you before he cums, and he can’t do that if he’s got even more friction on his cock. He’s a little surprised there is any with how wet you are, but you’re perfectly matched to his size so your walls grasp him tight every time he pulls back, the drag of them flawless on his sensitive skin. 
Your sounds are louder now that he’s not muffling them with his mouth, melodic in his ears and something he knows he’ll reproduce in his mind again and again, whenever he’s away from you and feeling particularly lonely. 
He’ll have to cut down on his traveling now that he’s got you, but that doesn’t scare him like it used to. Instead, he’s excited to have someone who makes him want to stay and build a home, build a life. He kind of feels like this is the first step, making you his and giving himself to you in return, and it’s enough to make his cock twitch and leak just a little bit of precum inside of you. 
He takes that for the warning it is, consciously veering away from thoughts of domesticity and belonging before dedicating the whole of his body to making you cum. He pushes away from you to sit up on his knees and haul your ass into his lap, your calves still resting on his shoulders and his dick just barely inside of you. 
He angles his hips and thrusts back in shallowly, no longer hitting as deep but aiming the head of his cock at that innervated patch inside of you. Your eyes grow wide and you suck in a deep gasp, your fingers clenching around his where they hold your legs, your reaction letting him know he’s got you. 
He fucks into that spot relentlessly, wondering if he can make you cum with just his cock. He stimulated your clit before too but you feel like you’re getting close, and he doesn’t want to change something trying to help only to hinder you instead. 
He doesn’t have much time to think before you’re crying out his name urgently, your tone plaintive and your voice thin. It sounds like you’re right on the edge, looks like it too, your brows screwed up in pleasure and your eyes bright with bliss. He’s almost as close as you are, his orgasm spooled up at the base of his spine and ticking like a time bomb, just waiting for him to let himself go. 
“Cum, baby,” he pants, hoping beyond hope that you’ll listen and obey just one more time. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on, prays that he’ll be able to endure the euphoria your climax will bring, that he won’t have to ruin it by pulling out while you’re deep in its thrall. 
But you do listen, thank fuck, you do, your eyes rolling back and your cunt clamping down on him in a vise grip, the sheer heat and wetness of you enough to pull a strangled groan from deep in his throat. It takes everything in him not to cum with you, the feeling incredible and the sight just as glorious, the impact of both beyond the realm of imagination. 
He lasts just long enough to get you through your aftershocks, his chest heaving for air as he makes himself pull out of the eden of your cunt. Blood rushes in his ears and fluffy cotton candy fills his head, his thoughts no more than paper airplanes gliding on a warm breeze. He watches his cum cover your perfect tits in white stripes, feeling as if he’s out of his body and out of his mind. 
Your hands squeeze his and you breathe his name, slowly pulling him back to you, like he’s a balloon that’s floated away and you’ve miraculously caught his string. You’re blurry in his vision and he can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t have his glasses on or if he’s just crying, but either way he releases your legs and leans in close to see you better. 
You cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss, the soothing, reassuring pressure bringing him back down to earth, back to you. He should be the one taking care of you right now, but he feels like he’s been cracked open, his soul and his heart bare, unprotected. 
“You’re okay,” you whisper, petting his cheekbones with your thumbs, and that’s what restarts him. 
He presses his lips to yours ardently, gathering up all of his feelings and pouring them into you, the intensity drawing a gentle sigh that travels from your mouth to his. He breathes it in before pulling away and focusing on you.
Lying down next to you, he pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky cum that smears on his chest when your breasts press against him. He holds you for a while, until his heartbeat feels close to normal and his head feels close to clear. He’s about to drift off when he remembers how dirty you both still are.
“Do you want to shower?” He asks in a low voice, grinning at the way your face scrunches in displeasure at the thought before you look up at him and respond, “Are we going to fuck again tonight?” 
He thinks on it for a moment, weighing options and offering his opinion, “I don’t want to tempt fate too many times, so I think we should just go to sleep for now and go out for condoms and Plan B tomorrow morning. Then I’ll fuck you all day, if you want.” 
You smile serenely and nod, your eyes already half lidded with exhaustion. 
“Does that mean you do want to shower, then?” He confirms, his fingers drumming on your bare back. 
“Yeah,” you pout, obviously reluctant to get up and get clean. 
“I’ll go start it and come get you when it’s warm. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do all the work,” he promises you, grinning when your pout stretches into a pleased little smile. 
He climbs out from under you and off the bed, walking on shaky knees to the bathroom, his soft cock hanging between his legs. He wonders if you have a washer, his shirt and boxers are not usable in their current state, but he can just use the sink if he needs to. He’ll have to go back to his hotel sometime tomorrow, to change and gather his things for his flight back home, and he’s already dreading the idea of it. 
It would be nice if he could get his film camera, maybe take a few pictures of you to tide him over until his transfer is finalized and he can find an apartment here. He feels like you’d be up for that, imagines photographing you in all kinds of positions and varying states of undress, safe in the knowledge that he can rent a darkroom and develop them himself. 
He struggles for a minute but figures out your shower eventually, turning it on and standing by until steam gathers on the mirror. He catches a glance at himself just before it fogs over, blushing at the image staring back at him. 
His lips are swollen and red, his cheeks flushed with exertion and joy, his eyes luminous for what feels like the first time in years. You’ve made your mark on him, tattooed him in gold, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same. 
That’s not something he minds. He even finds himself smiling at the idea of rearranging his pieces to fit with yours, of making space in his life for you and Anubis to fill. 
When he leaves the bathroom to get you, the cat is laying on the dining table, sprawled out with his eyes closed, and Wonwoo breathes a sigh of relief. If he’s being honest, he forgot entirely that there was another being in this apartment, and he’s glad your activities didn’t seem to disturb him. 
He wants to smooth a hand down Anubis’s side but doesn’t want to wake him, so he stares at the cat for just a second longer before turning to your bedroom and poking his head through the door frame. 
You’re starfishing on the bed, his cum mostly dry on your tits and your eyes gently shut, and he can’t contain the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 
Like mother, like son.
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Wonwoo draws in a deep, centering breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, grateful not for the first time that he’s in the city of love. 
This will be the first proposal he’s photographed today, the third this week, and for someone who’s always thought he didn’t mind love, he finds himself unbelievably excited. 
He calls your name, watches dust motes float through a shining sunbeam as you stir in the bed you share, your tired gaze finding him before it lands on the book beside you. Or, more accurately, on the ring sitting on the book beside you. 
You draw in a sharp gasp, your eyes flying to his, and he depresses the shutter button just as your face breaks into a beam bright enough to rival a supernova. 
He thinks this will be his favorite photograph yet. 
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AN: And the book was titled April Shower and it contains your love story as written by your best friend, the end 💖
“Prendi una stanza!” - "Get a room!"
“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” - "It's the city of love, Stefano, give us a break!"
“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” - "Y/n? Carry on, dear!"
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My Masterlist
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moonstruckme · 3 days
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Hey !
So I've just come out of a week with an absolutely awful cold where I lost my voice and it was absolutely exhausting.
So, if you'd like I wanted to request a poly!marauders x sick reader with fluff and coddling when reader lost her voice and they're being overprotective and soft . Maybe emt!marauders? As you'd like ✨️
Thank you 💕 🌸
Ugh hope you feel better soon my love <3
modern au
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 915 words
Sirius’ thumb draws circles into the fat of your hip, your head heavy against his chest. You’re letting your cheek smush against the material of his shirt, your entire body lax with lethargy. You really feel mostly fine, but it’s difficult not to indulge in some self-pity when your boyfriends are treating you so tenderly. 
“Are you tired, love?” Remus’ voice is low and dulcet, his eyes honey-colored in the afternoon light spilling through the window as he watches you from his chair. 
“No,” you rasp. His eyebrows stitch together compassionately. “Just comfortable.” 
You can very nearly feel the smugness emanating from Sirius at that. He kisses the top of your head, and Remus rolls his eyes at whatever face he’s made that you can’t see. 
“Do you want to try to gargle some saltwater before you have your tea?” Remus asks. 
You sigh, sinking further into Sirius’ side. “Maybe later.” 
“Oh, sweetheart, please stop.” James hisses through his teeth as he carries in a steaming cup of tea. “It hurts me when you talk, you sound so awful.” 
You shoot him a wry look—thanks—and Sirius grins. 
“I think you sound dead sexy,” he whispers conspiratorially. 
You laugh, and even that sounds warped and awful. “Yeah?” you say, reaching up for the tea as James passes it to you. Your voice squeaks, cracking horrifically. “Just like this?” 
“Prick.” James sits down beside you on the couch, kicking halfheartedly at Sirius’ leg. “Don’t encourage her.” 
You have to quell your giggling before you trust yourself to take a sip of your tea. It’s so sweet you think it might be half honey, not that you’re complaining; the effect is immediate relief for your raw throat. Remus unpauses the film you were watching, and James pulls one of your feet into his lap, massaging it like a stress ball through the material of your fuzzy sock. Sirius is still drawing heavy circles into your hip, and despite your claims of alertness, you’re well on your way to actually falling asleep when you notice Remus has turned subtly away from the TV and appears to be scrutinizing you. 
“What?” you ask. 
“Sweetheart,” James begs, his fingers tensing around your foot, “please.” 
“You really won’t let me check your throat for strep?” Remus asks. 
For James’ sake, you confine your response to a shake of your head. 
“Why not?” he presses, fully turning his back on the film. “If it was strep, we could get you some medicine. I don’t like seeing you sick, dove.” 
You send him a sorry little smile, but your answer hasn’t changed. 
“Why don’t you let him just have a look?” James coaxes. Sirius’ free hand comes up, laying flat over your forehead as he checks again for a fever. 
“Because it’s gross,” you say, and James winces but doesn’t complain, “and I think my breath must be awful. It’s only been a couple of days anyway.” 
“It could be a lot longer if it is strep throat and you don’t treat it,” Remus points out.
James leans closer to you, beckoning. “Give me a breath, and I’ll let you know if it’s horrid.” 
“No!” you lean away from him, laughing. 
“Why not?” 
“Bec—” Sirius takes the opportunity to get his index finger in your mouth, wedging it between your teeth. 
“Sirius!” you squeak, all the s’s of his name reduced to vague shushing sounds. “What are you doing?” 
James and Remus snicker at your lisping, but Sirius is the picture of cool composure, watching you steadily as you wrap your hand around his wrist. You give a tug, but he curls his finger around the inside of your bottom teeth and holds fast. 
“I could sit like this all day,” he says, disgustingly proud of himself, “or you could let Remus check your throat for pesky little spots.” 
You stare him down. The problem with Sirius is, he stares right back, and it’s difficult to feel very intimidating when you’ve got his finger sticking out of your mouth. He drops one eyelid in a wink. You’re loath to give into his smugness, but after a few seconds you roll your eyes. James takes your tea from you as Remus comes forward, getting out his phone light and stooping over you, and you allow Sirius to tip your mouth open. 
“Ugh, rank!” he jokes, immune to the glare you send his way. Remus ignores you both, steadying himself with a hand at your jaw as he peers inside your mouth. 
“Stick your tongue out, dove?” he requests, and you do, heat creeping up your neck. James squeezes your foot sympathetically. 
“I think,” Remus says softly, brows furrowing as he looks a moment longer, “you’re in the clear.” 
You let out a little cough, curling towards your chest as he steps away and James and Sirius cheer. 
“Told you,” you can’t help but say, voice scraping. 
“You were right, angel,” James indulges you, squeezing up the length of your calf. “So what does this mean?” 
Remus shrugs. “That it’s probably not strep throat. Could be anything else, we likely won’t know unless it gets worse.” 
“Steady diet of tea and honey?” Sirius asks gravely. 
“Certainly,” James answers in the same serious tone. “And rest. Lots of rest. Probably shouldn’t move on her own.” 
“So, business as usual,” you joke. Remus chuckles as Sirius stamps a kiss on the crown of your head. 
“Smart girl,” he praises. “Glad the fever’s not gone to your head yet.” 
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wileys-russo · 2 days
Text
maternal instinct (2) II a.russo
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part one maternal instinct (2) II a.russo
it had been a few days now and alessia hadn't heard much from you since the kiss, her confession and your reality check.
realistically she had known the moment it clicked for her that she had unresolved poorly harbored more than friendly feelings for you that it was complicated.
you had a child, a living, breathing, growing human being who depended on you for everything and anything. in turn of course you would be protective of that, of her, and of change.
alessia couldn't even begin to imagine what motherhood was like. the closest she'd come was her relationship with her own mother and even then in that scenario she was the daughter, the protected and ingthe cared for, not the parent taking the bullets as they came and shielding her from the wreckage.
so the striker had tried to her best to swallow her feelings, reminding herself that it wasn't fair on you to push them forward when you already had a very clearly well established routine and lifestyle.
but when those little dinners became weekly, the two of you spent more and more time together and in turn alessia earned bellas trust and started to get to know your daughter for the wonderfully bright charismatic and charming thing she was, there was suddenly two holes forming in the blondes heart.
then the thoughts started to creep in that just maybe this could work, maybe you might feel the same. alessia didn't yet have a maternal bone in her body but she wasn't opposed to learning, and she found herself daydreaming of how she might slot herself into your routine.
picking bella up from school when you had to work late, making lunches of a morning so you could have a few extra minutes to sleep in, the two of you in the stands in arsenal jerseys cheering for her.
but then alessia was fast to check herself, to remember that just because she could see herself slotting in that was far from the reality of what it meant to even date someone with a child let alone to be a step parent.
but all of that noise was pushed into a cupboard and the door firmly locked the moment your lips touched and alessia's heart swelled in size, hell she'd even give the grinch a run for his money that day.
though it didn't end how she'd hoped alessia meant what she said that night, she meant that she was okay to take things slow, she meant that she was more than happy to let you set the course and the pace and not overstep in any of that process.
alessia would be lying if she said she wasn't a little disappointed as the days passed and you didn't reach out, and that her finger didn't often hover over your contact with the temptation to send a follow up message to her last one.
she'd heard both you and bella coming and going from your apartment, often hovering by her door in wait for your voices to either disappear inside or into the elevator before she'd exit her own apartment, wanting to respect the fact you were taking the space that alessia did tell you to take if needed.
eventually thursday rolled around and the blonde found herself in two minds.
over the time she'd been living in her new place and then become friends with you, the routine had suddenly become that each thursday one of you would go to the others for dinner.
those dinners alessia hadn't realised how much she'd treasured until she found herself looking at the prospect of a thursday passing without one and her stomach lurched uncomfortably.
but as the hours ticked by and considering that it was your turn to host and alessia was yet to hear from you, she found herself with no choice but to assume it wasn't happening, ignoring the small voice in the back of her head telling her to check with you.
training was a brief distraction, her full focus and attention thrown into football to take her mind off of you for a few hours, which was a bandaid solution but worked.
but then as soon as she was cooling down and getting ready to head home, you were right back in the forefront of her thoughts.
her teammates and friends knew very little of you, alessia selfishly keeping you all to herself and not sharing much more with her friends than that her neighbors were all nice and welcoming, especially those on her floor.
which wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the entire truth and that was a matter alessia was content to keep to herself if not mainly for your privacy.
needless to say though since the kiss itself the last few days had been a roller coaster of emotions for the striker.
regret that she kissed you. fear you may not want anything to do with her anymore. anxiety that she'd squandered a chance of even a continuing healthy friendship. hope that you might just maybe feel the same way she did with some time to think it over properly.
returning from her shower post training and drying her hair with a towel, tapping her phone to check the time alessia finally had some sort of a step toward an answer, a missed call and a message from you sending her heart into her throat.
she could hear emily talking to her, having been engaged in the conversation prior to now but after finally seeing your contact name on her notifications again she'd tuned her friend right out.
relief flooded her body seeing you were indeed checking if she still wanted to come over for dinner and apologising for the lack of contact this week, and alessia completely missed emily giving up on gaining her attention after snapping her fingers routinely at the blonde who didn't respond.
sending a quick message back confirming she'd love to come to dinner alessia was rudely slammed back into reality as her phone was yanked from her hand and she looked up to meet a cheeky grin.
"kyra! give it back." the striker groaned holding her hand out for the phone as the australian shook her head. "who are you smiling so happily at lessi?" the younger girl teased with a toothy smirk as alessia rolled her eyes.
"no one! not that its any of your business anyway." she snatched her phone back and tucked it away safely in her pocket as kyra merely smirked wider. "suure russo sure." the brunette teased again as alessia ignored her and packed away her belongings into her gym bag.
"anyway, your secret love life aside. are you coming for dinner? i think we're getting sushi but vic can't decide and we all know what she's like when its her turn to pick a place." kyra rolled her eyes as alessia stood with a slight chuckle at the truth behind her words of their dutch teammate, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
"i can't tonight, sorry." the blonde apologized with a smile, trying to leave but sighing as kyra darted to quickly block her way. "i see...out for a date with your secret lover?" the younger girl made kissy faces obnoxiously.
"grow up kyra!" alessia chuckled shoving her away by the forehead as the shorter girl stumbled backwards and fell causing a few of the girls to laugh at her expense as alessia said her own goodbyes and headed for the door as kyra yelled out after her.
"hey that wasn't a no!"
~
alessia was expecting to see you today after your message and the missed call.
though it wasn't sat against your door with a miserable scowl on your face and your knees tucked to your chest. "good afternoon?" the striker greeted with a slightly nervous smile as you looked up and sighed.
"are you alright?" concern seeped into her tone now as she gripped the strap of her gym bag and anxiously rubbed her fingers against the course material to try and ground herself.
"i locked myself out." you admitted quietly with a huff, head thumping back against the door as your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and alessia bit down on her bottom lip to stop a smile forming.
"its not funny! my phones in there too so i can't even call someone." you whined with a groan. "your daughter isn't by chance locked in there too is she?" alessia teased lightly as you shook your head.
"no she's staying over at her dads tonight, she has a family tree project for school so he's helping her do his side." you sighed as alessia just smiled down at you.
"i see. so how did you manage this then? coming from an expert at locking herself out of course." the blonde tried to lighten the mood which you appreciated as she took a seat next to you but still giving you a respectable amount of space, gym bag sat in her lap.
"don't laugh." you warned as alessia feigned a cross over her heart and you exhaled heavily. "well the other day i ordered a new library card and-" you paused, head whipping sideways as you heard a snicker.
"alessia!" you huffed pushing her shoulder as she bit down on her bottom lip. "i haven't even started yet and you're already laughing." you complained with a frown as she waved it off with the excuse she needed to cough and encouraged you to continue.
"so i ordered a new library card and a huge haul of new stationary for the school. but of course it all got delivered to the wrong address so i complained and the post office picked it up and organised a re-delivery." you continued as alessia hummed, eyes fixed on you listening intently.
"well it finally arrived today and in my eagerness to grab the package from the lobby i sort of ran out without my keys, without my phone and apparently without a brain." you huffed picking at a loose thread of the hem of your shirt.
when there was no word from the blonde beside you, you glanced over to see her biting down on her bottom lip clearly trying very hard not to laugh as you sighed deeply.
"go on then." you waved her off with a roll of your eyes, unable to stop your lips tugging into a small smile at the melodic sound of her laughter. "you're the worst!" you huffed still smiling, pushing her again.
"is that really the way to talk to your only source of shelter, communication with the outside world and entertainment?" alessia teased, nerves having melted away now things seemed to be all normal between the two of you as she climbed up to her feet.
"come on. you can use my phone to call the building manager!" alessia held out her hands to help you up, bag balanced on her shoulder as you grabbed her hands, noting they were significantly larger than your own and immediately banishing that thought with a slight warmth in your cheeks.
"i'll even make you dinner if you ask nicely!" alessia grinned, pulling you to your feet and dropping your hands to open the door to her own apartment, a smile softening your features as you noticed the bracelet bella gave her was indeed attached to her house keys.
"oh my god and i'd already started to make dinner too!" you groaned in realisation, cringing at the thought of the mince meat sat in a bowl on your counter top where you'd intended to make meatballs.
"i've actually not gone grocery shopping thats a tomorrow errand. maybe we order in?" alessia realised as she let the pair of you in, cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment as you nodded happily.
"i'll never say no to a takeaway." you assured as she kicked off her slides and ducked off to her room to dump her bag.
you'd been in alessia's apartment enough times now not to feel like a stranger, but it still didn't stop you smiling as you stood looking at the various framed photos which littered the walls of her entryway of friends and family.
"less you were so cute!" you squealed spotting a new addition, a small photo of a no more than four or five year old alessia in a dirty football kit grinning and holding up a medal and trophy in her hands.
"god you sound like my mum. every time she comes over she has a fit over the childhood photos as if she wasn't the one who took them and she doesn't have album on album of them neatly organised in year order." alessia groaned, bumping her shoulder into yours as she passed and headed for the kitchen.
"i think i need to meet your mum and see these albums." you teased as the blonde gave you a horrified look before offering you a drink which you politely declined.
"what is that?" you asked with a scrunch of your face as she pulled out a thick looking drink in a protein shaker which was a colour you don't think you'd be able to find on any colour wheel.
"recovery shake." alessia explained after she'd downed a mouthful of it without flinching, offering it to you as you shook your head. "whats in it? thats a less than desirable colour." you chuckled taking a seat at the bench.
"umm protein powder, milk, yoghurt, honey, two raw eggs, kale, electrolytes, avocado, pineapple-" the more ingredients she listed the more your look of disgust grew before the blonde caught it and laughed.
"it sounds and looks worse than it actually tastes. go on!" she encouraged again, rounding the corner and holding it out to you as you firmly shook your head. "one tiny sip, come onn." the footballer shook it in your face with a grin as you pulled your head back.
"it doesn't even smell bad. i eat with my nose so thats why i add the fruit in, disguises all the vegetables. promise!" alessia swore as you gave her a strange look.
“you eat with your nose? what are you a hoover?" you quipped with a smile as she flicked your ear with a roll of her eyes, her legs just grazing yours as she took a step forward slightly towering over where you sat.
"no like if i don't like the smell of something i won't eat it." alessia admitted bashfully, speaking again before you could quip back with a teasing remark.
"come on, one small mouthful. aren't mothers supposed to be responsible and demonstrate trying new things?" alessia mocked with a grin still holding out the shaker as you begrudgingly took it from her hand.
"do you see my daughter anywhere near this atrocity?" you scoffed but took a cautious sniff, unable to disagree that really all you could smell was honey and pineapple.
with a defeated sigh you took the tiniest of sips, recoiling and shoving it back into her hand, alessias head thrown back with laughter at your reaction as you coughed into the crook of your arm.
"thats foul!" you spluttered out as alessia grinned ear to ear and nodded. "yeah they taste horrid but its part of my training program that i have to drink them after every session, you get used to them after awhile." alessia shrugged and took another large mouthful.
"you knew it tasted horrible and still egged me on to try it?" you scoffed in disbelief as alessia nodded, downing it again as you pushed at her but she hardly moved an inch, grinning in amusement at your attempts.
"sharing is caring. now you got a taste of what its like to be an elite athlete!" alessia smiled, sculling the last couple of mouthfuls and bonking you lightly on the head with the empty shaker as you kicked at her and she side stepped, making her way to the sink to rinse it out.
"right i was going to buy dinner but after that little stunt its on you russo."
~
"alessia!" you gasped in shock as the striker nearly fell over herself in her haste to hurry into the living room. "what? what’s happened? are you alright?" she asked worriedly at your tone, having been changing into something a bit more comfortable.
"im fine. do you not know how to get dressed?" you laughed at her disheveled state as she huffed and wriggled around to twist her hoodie on properly, pushing her head through and smoothing it out.
"i do! why did you gasp like that?" alessia huffed moving to take a seat on the lounge beside you. "because you watched ahead, again!" you smacked her shoulder nodding to the screen, alessia having nearly finished the show you’d both been watching together.
"i didn't know when we were going to hang out and i wanted to know who the killer was!" the blonde defended herself, swatting away your hands which tried to smack her again. "so did i but i waited!" you groaned, head thumping against the back of the lounge.
"well it was-" alessia started as you dropped the remote and hurried to cover her mouth. "don't you dare spoil it for me." you warned as she rolled her eyes but nodded as you removed your hand and she wiped her mouth with the corner of her sleeve.
"well i'd normally watch the premier league, but why don't you choose a movie." alessia chuckled tucking her legs beneath her as you shook your head and dropped the remote into her lap.
"i've already caused havoc on your plans for tonight. watch your game less, please!" you assured, pushing the remote away where she tried to hand it back to you.
"i didn't have many plans for tonight. some cute girl was supposed to cook me dinner but she stupidly locked herself out for a library card." alessia teased softly as you blushed and knocked your knee into hers.
"sounds like a dork." you joked as alessia laughed. "oh the biggest. but she's also like really smart so i guess all those library books paid off!" alessia gasped sarcastically, leaning her head against the back of the lounge staring at you as you did the same.
"what a loser." you tutted as alessia grinned, bright blue eyes boring into yours. "nah she's alright." alessia smiled softly poking your shoulder and pausing for a moment, cogs ticking over for a second before she swallowed all the doubts swirling round her head.
"i quite like her actually, but i don't know if she likes me in the same way." alessia's gaze dropped, fingers tracing patterns absentmindedly into the soft fabric of her lounge as her heart beat thumped in her ears.
when a few moments of silence passed alessia felt her neck grow hot with humilation and prepared herself both for rejection and to deliver a sincere apology if she made you uncomfortable, beating herself up for even saying anything in the first place.
but then you spoke. "i think she likes you in the same way, she's just a bit scared about what that might mean." you admitted quietly, glancing at her to see her head snap up before in turn your gaze dropped downward unable to meet her eyes.
"i wouldn't ever push her to do anything thats not at her pace. because i know she has another little factor to think of, who i also like quite a bit." alessia moved her hand slightly, fingers bumping against yours as neither of you made eye contact.
"that little factor also likes her quite a bit, which is adding to the fear." you admitted, bella quite smitten with her new big blonde playmate who taught her how to make pasta and had feet the size of a small dog in your daughters overactive imagination.
a few more beats of silence passed as both alessia and yourself were caught up in your own heads, fingers grazing one another with a feather light touch.
"you know a very wise five year old told me once that her mum said that sometimes all you need is thirty seconds of confidence to do something scary." alessia started, glancing upward as you did the same, both of you locking eyes and blushing further.
"we don't have to do anything that isn't at your pace. i can stop coming over and being around bella as much if she's getting attached, and if all of this is a bit too much then please you can say no and i won't be upset." alessia promised, your breath catching as slowly her pointer finger bumped yours before gently interlocking with it.
"can i take you on a date? please." alessia finished softly, the question hanging in the air as you now felt your heart beat in your ears and alessia was shocked you couldn't hear her own thumping in her chest.
"yeah, i'd like that less."
~
it was safe to say you did in fact like it, so much so that one date turned to more and a few weeks later you found yourself even more smitten with your now not so new neighbour.
true to her word alessia hadn't put a single ounce of pressure on you to do anything you weren't ready for or comfortable with and that only had you swooning even more at how understanding she was being.
you'd both had the conversation after the first two dates about alessia's ongoing interactions with bella, you making the decision that you'd like her to keep hanging around your daughter for the weekly dinners but not so much to the point bella suspected the pair of you were anything more than friends.
for a five year old your daughter was incredibly perceptive, and having grown up in a semi split family had made her more mature than your average five year old and especially in tune with her emotions.
she knew that you and her dad were friends, and that at one point you'd been a bit more and thats how she came to be.
but the both of you made it your mission to never let her think she wasn't wanted or loved by both of you, and thats why the healthy communication and routine with swapping bella between you was so crucial.
which is why you held alessia at arms length away from bella, your daughter being so in touch with her emotions though mature could sometimes let them get the best of her as five year olds do.
so not wanting to dangle the prospect of a shiny new friend and yanking her away should anything happen with you and alessia meant you took their interactions in your stride, and alessia had been nothing but respectful of that.
which is why it took you by surprise one evening when you were caught in a somewhat compromising position.
with your parents going away for a couple of weeks on a cruise you'd been pestering them to take for years now they were retired, bella was spending the weekend with them before they left mid next week.
the rare night off with both you and alessia having no plans meant you'd gone out for a nice meal together and intended to see a film afterwards, though the london weather had other ideas and with the rain bucketing down you'd ditched the film and grabbed a cab home.
spurred on by a few glasses of wine and some much needed liquid courage you'd all but dragged a soaking wet alessia into your apartment after racing from the cab to your building in the rain.
promising she could use your shower and with the blonde having spent the last month learning her way around your body a few well placed kisses had her now dragging you into the shower with her.
still taking things at your pace nothing happened bar a rather steamy makeout session which turned into you dying of laughter at alessia somehow swallowing a mouthful of water and nearly choking herself to death, which had killed the building mood anyway.
the taller girl stealing a hoodie and finding a pair of her own joggers in your closet the two of you now dried and dressed had curled up together to watch a movie, which ended up in alessia watching you.
"the movies over there russo!" you teased, a slight blush on your cheeks as you caught her staring again and tapped her forehead playfully. "i prefer this film anyway." alessia shrugged with a grin as you rolled your eyes but swooned internally at what you knew she meant.
"you should come to the game sunday, my brothers away travelling so i've got a spare ticket." alessia started softy a few minutes later, her hand warm and comforting as it rested on your knee, her taller body leaned into your side as her legs sprawled off the armrest of the sofa.
"mmm wear an arsenal jersey? i'm just such a die hard liverpool fan-" you started, squealing in surprise as her slender fingers jabbed into your side with a frown of disapproval making you smile and unfurrow her eyebrows with your thumbs.
"will your family be there though?" you asked, the twitch of your hand all alessia needed to sense the apprehension behind the question as she sat up properly and swung her body to face you.
"they would. but you don't need to meet them or anything, or my teammates and friends, i know its a bit soon." alessia assured, grabbing your hands in hers and you softened as she lifted them to her lips and placed gentle kisses against your palm.
neither of you had really started the discussion on what exactly you were.
you were more than neighbors, more than friends, going out on dates but not exactly dating, alessia had wanted to clarify but staying true to her word of not rushing you and just cherishing what time she did have with you meant she hadn't prompted the conversation yet.
"lessi i'm sorry everything has to be so slow and-" you started with a sigh, alessia shaking her head and squeezing your hands in hers to stop you before you'd finished your sentence.
"don't, please. i told you it would all be at your pace and i meant it, so long as i still get to spend time with you thats all that i care about." the striker promised sincerely as you nodded, leaning over to peck her lips a couple of times in a silent thank you.
"such a charmer." you teased softly poking her cheek as she grinned. already missing the feeling of your lips on hers you leaned in again to connect them, catching the taller girl off guard a little as the tone of the kiss shifted.
within a few seconds you found yourself moving to sit on top of her, your knees digging into the sofa either side of her thighs as her hands splayed against your hips and she sighed happily into your mouth with was still pressed against hers.
"what happened to the films over there?" alessia mumbled teasingly against your lips, pulling away to send you a dazzling grin as you shook your head and moved a hand to the back of your neck and drew her in again.
"would you like me to stop and we can finish it then?" you whispered with a smile, laughing as alessia hastily shook her head and tugged on your top connecting your lips again.
"so needy." you mumbled into the kiss, squirming as she pinched you for the comment, using the slight hitch in your breath to slip her tongue into your mouth.
now had you not been so caught up in the all consuming feelings that came with kissing alessia, and had your head not spun when those kisses moved from your lips down to your neck, her face tucking into your collarbone, you might have heard it.
the few rapid knocks which were drowned out by the movie in the background and ignored by both you and alessia who were too busy with one another, too busy to then hear the key turn in the lock and the handle rattle as it opened.
but what you didn't miss was the cry out for mummy and footsteps sprinting toward the sound of the movie in the living room, tumbling backwards off alessia's lap as the blonde clutched for you but it was too late as you landed on your back on the floor with a wheeze.
"mummy!" you grunted as a body joined you, bella hauling herself down on top of you with a grin. "bell. you're back!" you forced out in shock, still trying to catch your breath as your daughter nodded and scrambled off of you.
"big feet!" alessia was next to be jumped on, hugging your daughter with a smile as you sat up and rubbed your back which was throbbing from the fall.
"sorry darling. we did knock!" your head whipped upwards with wide eyes which locked with your own mothers, who judging by the amused smile on her face had assumed something was interrupted.
"i thought she was staying with you until sunday night mum?" you hurried to your feet with a slight wince, bella detaching herself from alessia and sprinting away toward her room.
"she is. but she forgot harvey so of course we had to come back for him, i did also try to call but it would seem you're a bit busy." she smiled and locked eyes now with alessia who blushed.
"mum, alessia. alessia, this is my mum amelia." you introduced them quickly intending to usher the older woman away from the poor bright red striker on your lounge but of course she had other plans.
"alessia. thats a lovely name! i work with an alessia and i hadn't met one before her and now i've met two!" your mother smiled warmly. "its italian, dads side. its lovely to meet you, i live next door we were just..." alessia trailed off, slight panic in her eyes as they met yours.
"hanging out. nice to watch a movie that isn't frozen with someone my own age!" you forced a smile, pushing at your mums shoulders who caught the hint and allowed herself to be lovingly shoved toward the kitchen.
you heard bella return and start yapping away at alessia who nodded along, grinning at the story of how harvey (your daughters best friend and most prized posession) came to be in her care, and you softened with a glance over your shoulder seeing the blonde keenly hanging off her every word completely invested.
"she's quite attractive." you were snapped back to the woman in front of you as your eyes widened and you groaned. "mum!" you hissed as she held up her hands. "just an observation! its nice to see you put yourself out there darling your father and i were-" the woman continued making you sigh.
"-worried i won't be married off before i fall pregnant? so sorry to have done it out of order!" you cut her off with a roll of your eyes. "less and i are just friends. i am allowed adult friendships who you don't know the entire family tree and childhood upbringing of amelia!" you huffed as the woman smiled.
"fair enough. we'll get out of your hair then darling, isabella!" she called out as footsteps thumped away and a body hugged your leg. "got him! now we can all go get ice cream with pop. you and big feet will come right?" her chin rested against your knee as she looked up hopefully and you smiled brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face.
"not tonight bell. this weekends for you to spend some special time with nan and pop before they go on holidays, because they'll miss you lots and lots but i get to see you every single day. okay?" you explained softly as your daughter frowned a little but nodded and you dropped down to give her a proper hug.
"bye big feet! harvey says bye too." you stood and bella yelled out bye to alessia poking her head through the gap between your legs making the blonde laugh.
"bye bella, bye harvey. lovely to meet you!" alessia waved and you couldn't help but grin as bella made the teddy wave back. "nice to meet you alessia." your mum smiled before you ushered them out the door.
"bell don't run please!" you sighed as the five year old raced off to the elevator.
"you know darling back when i was your age my friends didn't give me little love bites, but i guess thats just a generational change then. have a nice weekend!" your jaw dropped and your hand clapped against your neck but it was too late as the older woman took off, taking your daughters hand and leading her into the elevator as you spun around and headed back inside.
"alessia!"
~
"is everything alright baby? you just don't seem yourself is all." alessia questioned for the second time as you sat on her lounge eating pasta she'd just cooked for the pair of you, bella at her dads for the evening.
your stomach leapt into your throat at the term of endearment and the way it melted so effortlessly off her tongue, the little nicknames weren't anything new only now they came a lot more naturally to the pair of you.
"i'm fine i promise. one of my friends from school is getting married this weekend and i can't go, they're all sending loads of videos and photos and i am happy for them i really am, but i wish i was there." you admitted with a sigh, alessia settling her bowl down on the coffee table and turning to give you her full attention.
"why can't you go?" she questioned carefully with a small frown, one hand holding her head up as it rested against the back of the lounge and the other tracing circles on your knee.
"well its an adults only wedding which makes complete sense, and i planned to go originally just for the ceremony and have bella sat for the weekend. but my parents are still away, bens going away on a work trip this weekend and i can't ask him to not go, his parents are sick, his brothers out of town and all of my friends are headed off to the wedding if they're not already down there for the week." you explained with a small smile, picking at your pasta as your eyes were trained down to the bowl.
alessia didn't think before she spoke, but before she could pause to take a minute the words were already spilling out of her mouth.
"i could watch bella for the weekend?"
your eyes snapped upward at that, halting the pushing around of the bowl of pasta in your lap. "less i can't ask you to do that." you shook your head declining right away.
"you're not asking, i'm offering. you deserve a nice weekend away with your friends and weddings don't happen every day! i can tell you were looking forward to it." alessia assured as you sighed, moving your bowl onto the coffee table beside hers.
"less, baby really this is such a sweet offer but its not like dog sitting, having a five year old for a few hours is a huge challenge let alone a few days." you tried to put it as gently as you could but it didn't seem to deter the blonde in the slightest.
"i've babysat before and i've got little cousins. i know thats not the same but i pay attention, ask me anything about bella and i bet i could tell you!" the striker challenged, hand removed from your leg as she waved for you to start.
"alessia-" "go on babe, anything!"
knowing how stubborn the tall blonde could be you decided to placate her wishes with a sigh and a shake of your head as she crossed her arms against her chest and raised an eyebrow in waiting.
"bed time?" "eight on weekdays, eight thirty on weekends or if she's been at her dads or your parents because she needs time to settle down before she can sleep but never later than nine especially on a school night."
"night routine?" "it tires her out to help with making dinner or keeping herself occupied with something that isn't just tv before she eats. but dinner first and at the table, one episode of something, bath, her cup of tea which is really just warm milk with a spoon of honey in it, book, bed."
"favourite foods?" "anything with carbs, nothing thats orange, no soda's from a can but its fine from the soda stream. she'll eat broccoli if the stalks trimmed but not if it isn't, she will only eat peas if they're seperate from everything else on her plate. she smothers everything in tomato sauce so you have to pour it for her or else she drowns the meal, she claims not to like cheese but if you hide it in something she doesn't notice."
alessia grinned happily at the look of shock and surprise which you made no move to hide at her answers, nailing every single one as she waved for you to continue and your eyes narrowed slightly.
"allergies?" "latex and peanuts, there’s an epipen in bella’s backpack and in your cupboard under the sink and in the bathroom vanity just in case. she doesn't have asthma but you carry a puffer around because when the seasons change and the airs a bit full of dust or pollen she can get random coughing fits."
your eyebrows shot up again as alessia's grin softened into a smile, reaching out for your hands in her own.
"i also know first aid, cpr, all the emergency numbers, you keep your parents numbers and bens parents numbers on a little card on the fridge. i know that the easiest way to calm her down if she's having big feelings is to rationalize them but not patronize her because she likes to feel cared for but she's quite independent. the easiest way to get her to eat if she claims she isn't hungry is to feed the monster in her tummy who she's called frankie, she cannot go anywhere without harvey and she always sleeps in one of your shirts even though she has pyjamas of her own." alessia rattled off flawlessly without missing a beat as you sat shell shocked into silence.
"how did you-" "i told you, i pay attention." alessia promised with a soft smile, squeezing your hands as her rings felt cold against your warm skin. "i know this is a lot but your friends babysit her too right? we're...friends. it wouldn't need to be anything more than that to her." alessia spoke a little more unsure now as you nodded to reassure her she was right.
"well you're very impressive superstar, just…give me a day to think it all over."
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coco-loco-nut · 9 hours
Text
Iconic
pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life
masterlist
———————————
“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.
“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.
“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.
“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.
“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.
“How so?”
“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.
“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.
“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.
“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.
“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.
“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.
“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.
“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.
“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.
“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.
“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.
“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.
“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.
“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.
“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.
“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.
“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.
“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.
“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.
“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.
“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.
“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.
“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.
“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.
“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.
“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.
Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.
“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.
“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.
“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.
“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.
“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.
“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.
“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.
“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.
“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.
“Hey,” he groans at the jab.
“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.
“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.
“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”
“Who said I’d marry you at all?”
“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.
“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.
“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.
“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.
“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.
“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.
“I love you too.”
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Text
Guilty as Sin?
James Potter x f!reader (mentioned), Remus Lupin x f!reader
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warnings: smut, protected p in v, lots of descriptions of what ifs (you’ll understand with the song), underage smoking, if you squint it may just be cheating but oh well, this is so good to me
summary: someone once told you, there’s no such thing as bad thoughts… right?
word count: 3k
a/n: i’m in love with this song from taylor’s new album!!! sorry if this characterization isn’t what you like but this concept has been eating me alive. i love remus tho. might be a part two if you guys want !!!
~~~
Drowning in the Blue Nile
He sent me “Downtown Lights”
I hadn’t heard it in a while
~~~
“Oi y/n!”
You turned on your heels at the sound of your name being called. Down the hallway, you could see James Potter striding toward you. Despite the bodies of other students that filled the hall, you could see he was holding something in his hand. It looked big, and as he came closer and closer you could see more and more of what it was.
“Hello James, something I can help you with?” You asked once he was close enough to hear your normal tone. You looked down at his hands, you could see what he was holding clearly, it was a record. And from the cover of it, it looked to be a muggle one. “What’s that?”
James smiled his intoxicating smile and held the record up. “Something for you.”
You gasped and one of your hands moved up to cover your mouth. In his hands, he held the latest album of your favorite singer, Heroes by David Bowie. It had come out in October, and every time you searched for it, it was sold out. You traced your eyes over the beautiful shining black and white cover, you were practically speechless.
“How did you- when did you- James...”
“I have my ways, don’t worry about it,” the black-haired boy replied with a small laugh.
“It’s not close enough to be a Christmas gift, and you know my birthday isn’t till spring,” you observed out loud. Your eyes met his again and you blinked. “So, what’s this for?”
He shrugged. “For the past few weeks, I haven’t been the only one to take notice of how much you’ve been playing Bowie in the common room. And I heard you talking to Moony about how you haven’t got the new album yet... so here it is.”
He held it out to you and with delicate hands, you accepted the gift, still amazed. “James, you didn’t have to.”
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m surprised Moony didn’t already get it for you.”
“Yeah...” You looked down for a moment before meeting his eyes again, and you smiled. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Play it tonight, put it to use. Anyway, I’ve got to run, I’m supposed to be helping Peter with his Charms homework. See you at dinner.”
He gave you another smile before turning and walking back the way he came. You were too preoccupied with the flawless record in your hands to say goodbye. For a split second, you felt your heart flutter with a feeling you knew you shouldn’t have felt. So, you pushed it away and restarted your walk to the dungeons.
You knew better than to let those thoughts linger in the open hallway.
~~~
My boredom’s bone-deep
This cage was once just fine
Am I allowed to cry?
~~~
“James got that for you?”
You had just put the record on, and the sound of David Bowie's voice began to fill the Gryffindor common room. Your cheeks almost hurt from how much you’d been smiling. On one of the couches, your boyfriend Remus sat, his typical book in his lap. You turned and flung yourself on the open spot next to him, nodding your head to the beat of the song.
“Yeah, he gave it to me earlier, isn’t it wonderful?”
Remus nodded; his eyes locked on his book. “It’s definitely something.”
You rolled your eyes. “You like Bowie too last I checked.”
“You play him so much I’m surprised not everyone likes him,” Remus replied. Suddenly he shut his book and turned his head to look at you. For a split second, you felt hope that he was going to just listen with you. But of course, that wasn’t the case. Instead, he rose from the couch. “I can’t concentrate with it playing, I’m going to go read in my dorm.”
“But we barely spend any time together Rem, unless it’s a shag,” you protested, anger suddenly taking you over. “When’s the last time we went on a proper date? Or anything at all? I’m so bored of this.”
Remus as usual, kept his composer and showed no sign of any emotion. “If you’re so bored you’re welcome to leave me.”
“You know that’s not what I want,” you said.
“Then I’m not sure what to tell you. You’re welcome to join me, you know where to find me.”
He left before you could say anything else.
You ran your hands over your face in frustration. How did your relationship come to this? You started dating Remus in fifth year, and it had been the happiest moment of your life. He was your first love, the boy you shared almost all of your firsts with actually. You loved him more than anyone, yet it never seemed to be enough. So, you began to give up.
After all, it was your last year at Hogwarts, after it ended, you’d never have to see him again. Because really, was so much pain worth a moment of happiness? You didn’t believe so anymore.
Instead of following him up to his dorm as you would have the year prior, you simply laid back on the couch and enjoyed the first listen of the album.
~~~
I dream of cracking locks
Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks
Crashing into him tonight, he’s a paradox
I’m seeing visions, am I bad?
Or mad? Or wise?
~~~
The first time you ever thought of James in the way you knew you shouldn’t be was about a year into your relationship with Remus. After he had begun his distant behavior, his cold manners, and all those awful things. Previously, you had only ever felt attracted to the one Marauder. You saw Peter as a sweet little brother, you saw Sirius as an older annoying brother, and you saw James as well, a friend. That was until one late December night.
You and Remus had one of your arguments and you went outside for a smoke to help with your anxiety. For a few minutes, you sat in silence, the cold air and smoke in your lungs a great distraction from the boiling fears that consumed your mind. You were afraid to lose Remus. More than afraid. So, you inhaled a deep puff of the cigarette to focus on something else.
“You’ll catch a cold out here you know.”
You jumped at the sudden sound of a voice. James sat next to you, and you were perplexed at how he managed to sneak into the spot so quietly. You were also confused as to why he was there in the first place.
“If that’s the case then why are you out here?” You questioned as you let out a cloud of smoke.
He held up his hand and you passed it to him. “I had a... date anyway Filtch was in the corridor, so I ran out here. I doubt he followed, he and Mrs. Norris hate this time of year.” He inhaled a deep breath and passed the cigarette back to you. “Why are you out here?”
“A date? Is that what they call a shag now?” You laughed for a few seconds before your frown resurfaced. “Remus and I had a disagreement. We both said some nasty things, I needed to clear my head.”
“Ah, lovers quarrel. Are you all right? Remus can say some pretty nasty things when he’s mad,” James said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.
You stared at him in silence for a moment. Never before had you realized how attractive he really was. Sirius was known to be the most attractive of the Marauders, but his crude personality, at least in your opinion, always outshined his natural features. James, however, since the start of sixth year, had matured. That meant he was no longer solely physically attractive; he also had an attractive personality. He was funny, caring, outgoing, and a leader. And of course, he was six feet tall with curly black hair and a perfect smile. Who wouldn’t be attracted to that?
You swallowed away the tingly feeling that shot through your fingers as you passed him the cigarette again.
He’s your boyfriend's best mate, stop thinking like that. You thought to yourself.
But as you watched him exhale another breath of smoke you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about how his perfect lips would feel against yours.
“I’m sure you two will make up by the end of the night, he really loves you,” he spoke. His eyes caught yours, you could see the small smirk on his all too good-looking lips. “Who wouldn’t fancy a girl like you anyway?”
“A lot of guys actually,” you responded.
His hazel eyes were practically glowing. “They’re blokes. Have you seen yourself y/n? You’re pretty, smart, funny, and you have a fascinating music taste. And anything Remus might’ve said to make you feel less than perfect well... he didn’t mean it. Trust me, that wouldn’t be possible.”
You laughed. “What? Me being less than perfect or Remus meaning what he said?”
“Both,” James answered.
He must’ve felt it too. That pull. You almost considered moving closer to him, but before you could make the decision James stood. You were relieved, the spell was broken. Your senses came back. You shouldn’t have even thought about what it would feel like to kiss James Potter.
“Let’s get back up to the tower, it’s pretty fucking cold,” he said.
You only nodded and threw your cigarette to the ground, crushing it with your sneaker after you stood. “All right.”
The two of you walked back up silently and you were greeted by an apologetic Remus. As he held you in his arms though, all you could think about were the thoughts you had previously thought.
~~~
What if he’s written “mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind?
One slip and falling back into the hedge maze
Oh, what a way to die
My bedsheets are ablaze, I’ve screamed his name
Building up like waves crashing over my grave
~~~
You gripped the red sheets of Remus’s bed so hard your knuckles turned white. Your breathing was heavy and unsteady. You tried to lean your head up to kiss him, but he wasn’t paying attention. It was something you’d grown used to. He liked to fuck you hard, not soft, not lovingly. No. He liked it intensely. You did too, but you also liked being gently taken care of.
Too bad he didn’t enjoy that anymore.
“Rem I-”
“I’m- almost done.” He cut you off, his breathless voice which once made you squirm now made you angry.
It was despicable, it was so wrong. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.
You closed your eyes and began to imagine someone else on top of you. Instantly, you felt a rush of heat to your cheeks at the picture in your mind. He would be so much more careful, and considerate. You’d heard from many girls how good of a lover he was. All of them would dote on how much he liked pleasing them. With his fingers, his mouth, and his...
You tried to squeeze your thighs together.
You should’ve stopped, you knew that. But your mind kept going.
You pictured him on top of you. His curls would be so soft. His hands would be callused from Quidditch. He’d use them on you, make you cum over and over again. You imagined how he’d curl his fingers so perfectly inside you.
“That’s it, my perfect girl,” he’d whisper to you as he went on with it. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”
Suddenly, without warning, you felt yourself reach a peak you hadn’t reached in a while. You squeezed your eyes shut and came at the thought of how good James Potter's praises would make you feel.
When Remus was done, he lay next to you on the bed breathless. “You came?”
You only stared at the top of his bed. “Yeah.”
~~~
These fatal fantasies
Giving way to labored breath, takin all of me
We’ve already done it in my head
If it’s make-believe
Why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?
~~~
There was something so exhilarating about being around James. Especially when the two of you were alone. It was as though every time the two of you had a moment alone, he gave you another reason to keep your fantasies going. Often, it made you wonder if he knew of your terrible thoughts.
The two of you sat by the black lake, the rest of your friends were further away playing a game of football. It was funny watching Lily get frustrated trying to explain the rules to Sirius, but it was even funnier when James commented on it from beside you.
“Oh no, he picked it up again. Evans is almost turning as red as her hair, I worry for her health,” the boy with glasses joked.
You snorted. “She’s going to have a heart attack from that boy mark my words.”
“I believe that. ‘Suppose it’s a good thing she’s thinking about becoming a Healer,” he replied.
You threw your head back as you laughed, one of your hands flying up to grip James’s arm. After a few seconds though, you composed yourself and pulled your hand off him as though it had been burned. Your eyes immediately found Remus across the field. He paid you no mind.
“Y/n can I ask you something a little personal?” James asked.
Your eyes met his and you didn’t hesitate to nod. “Sure.”
“You and Remus, things aren’t good between the two of you.”
“What gave that away?” You faked a smile. “But that’s not a question love.”
He really smiled. “I know. Sorry. My question was why are you still with him if things between the two of you are like this? I understand being in love, Merlin I tried to get Evans to go out with me for ages. But you and Moony... You used to be in our room all the time, you guys used to be so happy and I dunno around each other. Do you guys even go out anymore? I haven’t seen a snog between the two of you in a while.”
You inhaled a deep breath, your attention moving to the blade of grass between your fingers. “I suppose I’m afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes, afraid. Rem he- he's my first everything and I dunno. If we broke up the friend group would be torn, and everything would be complicated. I suppose it’s just easier this way,” you answered. You hadn’t been this honest about how you felt in a long time. It felt good. And it felt even better when you caught James’s caring eyes.
“Do you love him?”
His question caught you off guard. “I did. I still think I do.”
You watched him look across the field for a few seconds before he did something you never would’ve expected. Ever so gently, he placed his hand over yours on the grass. All you could do was stare wildly into his eyes. Was this supposed to make your heart race and your face red?
“I care about you y/n, and I care about Remus as well. I want what’s best for both of you and if I’m being honest, I don’t think that’s with each other,” he said softly.
“Have you said this to him then?” You questioned, you found it hard to breathe with the feeling of his rough hand on yours.
James nodded. “Of course I have. He doesn’t like advice that much though.”
“He really doesn’t does he?” You mumbled.
“No, he doesn’t. But either of you can talk to me about anything. You know that right? You don’t have to be afraid of anything y/n. Even if you do break up I’ll be here for you, you won’t be alone. Course you have Lily and Mary and Marlene as well but...” You watched his face change as he trailed off. “I dunno. I thought it would be different with me.”
“Different?” You held your breath. “How so?”
His thumb moved across your skin; you bit down on your lip.
“You know...” he trailed off again, his voice quieter than before.
All you could think about was how good it would feel to pounce on top of him and kiss him till you couldn’t breathe. You’d do it, even out there in the open. You imagined how intense and fast it would be. A few minutes at most but a lifetime of pleasure no doubt. He’d make you feel things you hadn’t felt in ages, he’d do whatever you asked. That’s just the person he was.
“James, you don’t even know the half of it,” you admitted softly.
“Love, I think I do.”
You could’ve fainted right then and there. His eyes were so mesmerizing, his voice sent goosebumps all over your body. It was terrible, despicable, and tragic. But oh, how fucking good it felt to be seen again. And as it seemed, James really saw you.
“James we can’t-”
“We aren’t doing anything.” He leaned closer to you. “And besides there’s no such thing as bad thoughts. Only your actions talk.”
“So you-”
“Yes, yes I do.”
“James...”
“I know I must sound like a god-awful prat but believe me I don’t want the two of you to break up so we can... No. I want you two to break up because both of you are miserable. And I do really care about the both of you, you’re my mates.” He explained quickly.
You turned back to the field and saw Remus slowly approaching. Without thinking you ripped your hand away from James’s as fast as you could and stood up. You took a few deep breaths before you looked down at James.
“If Remus and I do break up, I want you to know it’s not because of... all right?”
“All right.” He nodded.
“Good,” you said before turning and making your way out to Remus.
You knew what he wanted to do, and you would oblige.
You had about ten thousand more fantasies to think of during it anyway.
197 notes · View notes
redflagshipwriter · 2 days
Text
Hot Ghouls in Your Area 8
Chapter 8
Masterpost
“You're just now going to campus?” Jazz said. Danny scowled ahead at the sidewalk. Her tone wasn't judgmental so much as mildly surprised. He still hated it. “That's a lot later than usual. Is everything alright?” Danny hunched his shoulders up and consciously reminded himself not to get defensive. He wasn't slacking. He'd gotten home after his class and slept 13 hours. He still felt wiped out.
“Ghost stuff,” he said cryptically. “Ruined my night.” He dodged someone on the sidewalk without thinking about it, used to the crowds by now.
Jazz inhaled sharply into his ear. “They're supposed to leave you alone to focus on your education,” she hissed. “Just so you know, I do have the venomous Fenton electric creep stick-”
“Yeah, I know,” Danny cut her off. She was probably holding it up right now, thumb on the trigger. He couldn't fight off the rueful smile. She had his back, didn't she? Always did. With that in mind… “I think I need help,” he admitted. Oof. Felt bad. Not as bad as failing his classes, though, which was the danger if he got pulled too deep into more Ghost bull honkey.
“Of course!” Jazz enthused. He stepped off the curb and then quick-stepped backwards to avoid getting hit by some asshole running the red light. Danny lifted up his free hand to flip them off as he hung on his heels on the edge of the pavement drop. He dropped lightly back onto the balls of his feet and jogged across the street.
Jazz was still talking, voice clear over the morning meld of honking and running engines. “How about you come over to my place after your classes tonight? My roommate is out for a conference.”
“You just don't want to come to Crime Alley,” Danny accused her. “Even for me, your beloved baby brother.” He dodged a car that was parked on the cross walk and made an ugly face at the driver. “Despite your professed love for crime, when it counts, it's all talk.”
“I don't love crime,” Jazz reiterated with her inhuman patience. She didn't take the bait of his deliberate mischaracterization of her career plans. “But I am exquisitely stabbable." Her tone went lofty with the brag. "So yes, I avoid Crime Alley.”
Danny blew an unimpressed raspberry to show what he thought of that.
He hadn't met anyone in Gotham yet who he thought would really throw Jazz for a loop. She was a 6ft 2 judo black belt, and she was liminally spooky as fuck. “No one would stab you,” he said, making it sound like an insult. His janky ass was more likely to get held up. "But fine, I'll haul my poor broken corpse all the way over there to do you a favor-”
“So I can do you a favor,” Jazz corrected wryly.
“My poor broken corpse,” Danny cut back in, because that was a really relevant factor to him. He put the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned a little. He felt like he'd been in a tumble dryer. Missing a full night of sleep was an insufferable insult to his desperate shoe-string construction of a healthy routine.
“I would so get robbed if I came there,” Jazz argued. “Maybe even kidnapped.” He could all but hear her flip her hair.
He snorted but let her keep her delicate feminine delusions about not being one of the scariest motherfuckers in the crime capital of the country. He wasn't actually worried about her interning at Arkham Asylum. Maybe he'd freaked out a little when she'd moved here, but that wasn't why he was here. No matter what anyone said.
“There's no immediate danger, right?” Jazz checked. “No reason I need to be concerned today?”
“Nah,” Danny reassured her, as the campus came into sight. He had about an hour before class to spend in the lab before his lecture. “It's not that kind of problem.” He felt his face arranged itself into a wry smile. “You might like this one.”
“Oh?” Jazz asked, intrigued. “Do tell.”
“Only after I've sworn you to perfect silence,” Danny shot back instantly. “I mean it, for real, you can't tell a soul living or dead or nonliving or-”
“I think I get it,” she cut him off. Jazz huffed. “As if I can't keep a secret. You think I can't keep secrets? I know the most incredible things that you could never dream up.”
“...Big if true,” Danny snarked, pretending that he wasn't extremely interested.
“You never knew what happened to the Robinsons,” Jazz said airily. “And you never will.”
“...that doesn't bother me at all,” Danny lied. He stopped walking.
“Ahuh,” Jazz said knowingly. “Hey, remember the neon cheese incident?”
Danny gritted his teeth. “Can't say I do,” he said. It was bullshit, and even he knew it wasn't convincing Jazz. He was dying to know the truth. It had been the talk of the town for weeks and was still occasionally featured on unsolved mystery podcasts. He'd gone far enough to ask the Dairy King, but even the dead wouldn't speak on it.
“Have a good day of classes, little brother,” Jazz said sweetly. She ended the call.
He rubbed at his temples. Ancients, she gave him a headache. She was fantastic. She was killing him and absolutely ruining his unlife. He couldn't even beg her for answers about the neon cheese, because if he managed to badger it out of her, it would prove she could be manipulated into telling secrets. That would be a loss anyway. It was more likely that either she didn't know anything or that she knew and her lips would stay sealed: Danny didn't have any to waste his breath.
He did a few calming rounds of breathing, now that he was thinking about it, and then went on with his day a bit invigorated by the familial aggravation.
Danny felt a little better about focusing on class now that he knew he could count on Jazz in his corner. She was the smartest person he knew. She could probably get him divorced by the end of the day. Hell, she probably already had a contingency plan for getting him a divorce. She was so ready for him to have a relationship so that he would have relationship problems to ask her about.
When he finished up on campus, Danny cut across town to pick up takeout food as an offering. He presented it to Jazz as soon as she opened the door, head bowed and food theatrically high.
“Oh, come in,” Jazz said, exasperated. She grabbed him by the back of his collar and bodily pulled him inside. “My neighbors are going to think I'm so weird, Danny!”
“My liege,” he intoned seriously. “I come bearing- ow! Stop hitting my- hey, my face!” Danny wrestled away from the horrible pinching grip his terrible sister had on his cheeks, scowling. “That hurt,” he complained. “Have you ever thought that you're getting caught up in the cycle of violence?”
“I don't lose sleep over it.” Jazz lowered herself delicately onto one of the weird puffs she had instead of chairs and made grabby hands at the takeout. “What did you get me?”
“Coal,” Danny snarked. But he handed over the bag without a fight and plopped himself onto the closest poof thing. He fully laid out and let his head flop past the edge to hang upside down.
“Inversion therapy, so chic,” Jazz said absently.
He considered flipping her off, but his balance was really off in this position and it would be hard to defend himself if she lunged at him. Hell, if she picked up his legs he'd probably tip over onto the floor. Danny dug his heels into the side of the poof in defensive preparation. He kept her in his peripheral vision.
“Oh, Malaysian,” Jazz enthused. “I wanted to have this!” She sounded a little too surprised.
He shot her a thumbs up. Two days ago, she'd sent him a screenshot of a text landing from someone else that had shown most of her screen was the active map app she was using to get to an appointment. The Malaysian restaurant had the star mark that she put on the places that she wanted to try.
He'd gambled that she hadn't gone yet because she hadn't had a late night at work. Jazz only got takeout with company or if she got home too late to cook.
“Cool,” Danny said, because he didn't want his rotten sister to think he cared about her interests. “It was on the way and it smelled good.”
Jazz hummed and put the food on the side table. “So I see.” She folded her fingers in front of her face and peered at him over the steeple. “What happened? What ghost do I need to soup with a fragrant combination of turmeric and saffron?”
“Please don't waste that, ghosts taste fine on their own,” Danny said.
Jazz grimaced. “Ew, Danny,” she enunciated carefully. She paused. “Ew.”
He shrugged and accidentally slipped a little closer to the floor. “Just saying. But actually, no one dead was involved, unless we count-”
“We don't count,” Jazz cut him off, serenely unbothered by his attempts to score empathy points off his death. She was a cold customer.
“Boo,” Danny said, because he knew his brand and respected ghost tradition. “Anyway, Jeremy Waters. Remember -”
“How could I forget,” Jazz muttered. She put her hands on her face.
“Hey,” Danny said, offended that Jeremy got that reaction and he got a big fat impassive nothing no matter how annoying he was.
“What’s Jeremy done?” Jazz sounded exhausted by the concept.
“Well… He uh.” Danny stared at the ceiling. He couldn't look at her directly. “Well. You know how he wants the good favor of the god of the underworld?”
“Yup.” Jazz hit the ‘p’ sound hard.
“He uh, hit the idea that uh. Maybe a Persephone of sorts was just the thing to suck up.”
He heard fabric rustle as Jazz sat up. “He did?”
Wow, she had one of the most fascinating ceilings in the world. Danny stared intently up at a splotch that looked vaguely malign. She ought to get that checked out by an expert before it possessed somebody. “Yeah, so he's been trying to vault people into the Ghost Zone as bridal sacrifices.”
“Ahuh.” Jazz sounded a little bit choked up. She wasn't laughing, so he couldn't complain.
“I had Dani get Vlad look into it-” because Dad or Mom would have been mortifying- “and apparently, he told her the odds of some hack wizard managing to send a living human to the ghost zone was laughable.”
He paused. He couldn't go on.
“And Vlad would know,” Jazz said leadingly.
Danny put a hand over his face. “Yeah, see, the thing is that I'm now very concerned that Vlad might not know.” His words came out muffled.
Jazz was so intent on him. He pretended even harder not to know she was leaning in towards him. “Does- does the ghost king have a bride, Danny?” She somehow managed in a professional tone.
He nodded miserably.
She promptly lost her shit laughing at his misfortune.
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crowhoonter · 2 days
Text
rating Parahumans guys on how well I think they'd be as parents
Brian: I think Brian would believe he is a great father, but there is too much repressed emotions and depression in there to properly care for and raise a child. 3/10, Not particularly good.
Alec: Alec has lacked a real positive parental unit in his life, and while I don't think he would purposefully be shitty to a kid, I think he might fall back on what he knows from his own youth. Might be a fun older brother though. 3/10, needs to focus on himself first
Danny Hebert: Too sad about his wife dying to properly parent. no further notes. 2/10, Danny please get it together Taylor is relying on you
Armsmaster: Would rub off his worst personality traits onto a kid, resulting in them being the average r/malelivingspace user. Might also encourage child to grow poor facial hair. 1/10, I feel bad for whatever unfortunate soul is consigned to this fate.
Coil: Coil would be an absent father for 90% of your childhood, unless you were useful for his plans. In that case, he would feed you drugs or some other unethical thing and make you work for him (child labor (bad)). 2/10, conditions are poor but you might get to meet some of the other children he has, fixing the playdate situation.
Kaiser: See in story results. -5/10 Nazis don't make good parents.
Uber and Leet: They come as a package deal obviously, and they are actually pretty okay parents, they aren't great obviously but they aren't tremendous failures either. That is until you show up on one of their livestreams and then you are the laughingstock of the school. 4/10 Don't upload your kids online.
Scion: Too sad about his wife dying to properly parent. Also not emotionally available. 1/10, get it together man people are relying on you.
Mark Dallon: Not necessarily a bad parent, but he has a laundry list of problems that he needs to work through before he can begin to think to focus on his kids. 3/10, he's trying by god. He's not doing good but he's trying.
Number Man: He would probably respond to any question his kid asks with some weird philosophical math metaphor. Is a killer cook though. Also math classes would be a breeze. Unfortunately, most of his time is dedicated to cauldron. 5/10, grades will be great.
Accord: The worst type of helicopter parent. He would make itineraries to follow any time his kid went out and would require them home in pristine condition super early. Has a rigorous study schedule and puts a lot of pressure on you to succeed, and you know he wants whats best for you but like its stifling and you aren't really living for you but for him. Sure grades are good but you just can't do it anymore. 4/10, the depression and GPA are soaring.
Jack Slash: As seen in Worm, he is an absolutely killer parent. Has a fun family vibe? check. Engages with his children's interest and allows them to pursue it? check. Keeps his child intellectually and creatively stimulated? check. Takes his family all over the country to see new exciting places and people? check. Dude is simply top tier on the parenting skill. Sure the family dynamic is a bit unorthodox, but when the results look this good can you really argue? 10/10 Jack Slash has got it going on.
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[What if Ghost & Y/N were childhood friends]
Kid!Y/N, taking a walk : ☺️🌈🌸
[Then Y/N spotted Simon sitting on the bench at the playground, holding his baby brother, and seems to be sad]
Kid!Y/N : Is that… Simon?
Kid!Y/N, gasps : It is Simon! SI! *runs to Simon*
Kid!Simon, perks up hearing his signature nickname : Y/N?
Kid!Y/N : It really is you! Good golly, I haven’t seen you around for weeks! Where have you been, silly? You made me worried!
Kid!Simon : Sorry, Y/N. Some stuff happened at home, and I wasn’t allowed to come out and play with you..
Kid!Y/N, sits down next to him : Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re back! Oh hi, Tommy~! You’re growing up so fast!
Kid!Simon, laughs : And heavier
Kid!Y/N, swinging legs : So uhh do you wanna talk about why you weren’t allowed to come to hang out with me?
Kid!Simon, blew raspberries : Nothing out of usual, my dad argued with my mom. I stood up for her, only for him to hit me again. Then he grounded me.
Kid!Y/N : Oh.. I’m sorry Si
Kid!Simon, shrugs : It’s fine, I can handle it. Y’know I managed to get out because they were arguing again, and I thought that Tommy might wanted a different view than boring grey walls.
Kid!Y/N : . . .
Kid!Simon : . . .
Kid!Y/N, gasps : I know a way to cheer you up!
Kid!Simon : Oh yeah?
Kid!Y/N, standing in front of him : Okay, so whenever you feel upset or angry, you collect it into your palms!
Kid!Simon : Uhh how do I collect upset and angry?
Kid!Y/N : You just feel where it is and go get it! There’s usually some in your belly or your neck!
[Confused Simon copying Y/N’s actions by grabbing his upset from his belly into his palm]
Kid!Y/N : And always remember to check your ears, okay?
[Simon & Y/N bounce up and down with their heads cocked, as though they're trying to shake something out of their ears, with their hands held out to catch it while giggling]
Kid!Y/N : Now did you collect all your upset and angry in your hands?
Kid!Simon : Yeah, what do I do with it?
Kid!Y/N : Do you want to keep it?
Kid!Simon, sticking his tongue out in disgust : No way!
Kid!Y/N : Well if you don’t want it, you throw it into the garbage bin!
[Cues to Simon throwing his ‘upset’ & ‘angry’ into the bin, then Y/N closes the lid]
Kid!Y/N : There, now how do you feel?
Kid!Simon : hmmm a lot better actually
Kid!Y/N : Horray! See, you can do this technique again whenever you feel that way again, okay?
Kid!Simon, happily nods : Thanks, teddy bear!
[To present day]
Soap, whispers to Gaz : What the bloody hell is he doing?
Gaz, drinking coffee : He’s been like this for solid 5 minutes now
Soap : What? Is he throwing his invisible trash into the air or something?
Gaz, shrugs :
278 notes · View notes
sincerelyrki · 1 day
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pretty baby
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Jake’s pretty baby makes the prettiest sounds, it’s only fair that the others get to hear them too.
pairing : bf!jake x fem!reader
warnings + genre : smut. exhibition. hand job. fingering. only includes the hyung line. 18+.
wc : 844
a/n : this took everything in me to post, i get way too shy to write stuff like this TT but thoughts? pls let me know how i did <3
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“Can I touch you?” You kept your gaze locked on the movie playing across the room, your ears hot as you attempted to ignore your needy boyfriend.
Jake quietly whined in your ear at your ignorance, his need for you growing the longer your hand jerked him off. 
He raised his hips to push himself further into your palm, soft gasps leaving his lips as he felt your hand tighten around him. 
“Please, I need to feel you.” Jake’s lips gently nipped at your ear as he pushed himself completely against you, your slow caresses halting as he trapped your hand between his thighs and your hip.  
You once again tightened your hand around him, squeezing him with a warning.
Jake hissed in pain, his lower body slightly flinching away from you in shock. 
Without drawing attention to yourself you turned your head towards your boyfriend, his pitiful state causing your satisfaction to swell along your arms. 
Your newfound goosebumps were nothing compared to the way your body reacted to his next actions, your head snapping around to glance around the room to check if anyone had noticed your slip up.
Jake gave you a sly smile, moving his hand further up the front of your shirt. He took advantage of your cautionary glances, cupping one of your breasts with one of his hands before snaking the other one behind your back.
Your jaw clenched as you felt your bra come undone, being supported by nothing but Jake’s hand pressing against you. 
“Sorry, it was an accident.” Jake winked at you as he removed his hand from your shirt, your bra held in his hands as he leaned away from you.
“The others will hear.” You gave up, leaning forward after him. Jake allowed you to lean into him, his free hand reaching out to pull one of your legs over his. 
“Not if you’re quiet” He teased you, one side of his mouth quirking into a smirk as he tilted his head at you. “You can be quiet, can’t you?”
It was almost humorous how fast Jake was able to switch the rolls, controlling you by the palm of his hand as he pushed you into a submissive headspace. 
You confidently nodded at him, your certainty fading the second his fingers wrapped around your knee. “We don’t want anyone to see how dirty my girl can be, that’s for my eyes only.”
Through the dimmed room it was nearly impossible to see Jake’s hands, the light’s reflection on his rings being the only proof of his hands touching your skin.
“But it seems it’s too late for that, hm?” Jake whispered in your ears, his fingers reaching your underwear as he stared at a spot across from you.
“Heeseung seems to be really enjoying this, his poor of an excuse blanket is doing nothing to hide it.” You say frozen in spot, legs spread under the blanket as your boyfriend's fingers circled shapes against your upper thigh.
“My pretty baby makes the prettiest sounds, should we show him?” Jake pushed your underwear to the side, slotting his fingers between you as his fingertips slid down your most sensitive part.
Your head dropped down as he pushed his fingers into you, his thumb coming up to rub against you as he slowly moved his wrist. 
After a long minute of hiding your sounds, you accidentally choked out a quiet moan, your bitten lips dropping at a harder thrust. “Might as well give them all a show, let them hear you.”
Jake used his other hand to grab your jaw, turning your head towards the three men sitting on the couch beside you. “Let me hear you.” A strangled whimper left your lips at the messy sight that greeted you.
Three pairs of eyes were glued to the blanket across your legs, doing nothing to hide the movements happening beneath it. 
If possible, you grew even shyer as the three men turned their eyes toward your face instead. 
You could see Sunghoon adjusting in his seat, his legs spreading as he fixed his pants. He tried acting like he never saw the two of you, turning his head towards the forgotten movie playing. If it wasn’t for the harsh gulp that followed, he almost could’ve fooled a blind man. 
“Fucking pervs” Jake scoffed out a laugh, his hand speeding up as he finally removed the blanket concealing you from the others.
“Holy shit” Jay’s jaw dropped, his eyes glaring holes into your skin as his eyes wandered all across your bottom half. A strained exhale left his lips at the sight of your inner thighs.
A mixture of red and purple painted your skin, and various hickeys littered across the strip of skin that was hidden by your pulled-up skirt. 
“You have such pretty panties, but I think they’d appreciate the sight more if you got rid of them.” Jake blew cool air into your ear, his free hand pressing against your lower stomach. 
“Show them how pretty you are for me?” And you did. 
236 notes · View notes
gyomei · 2 days
Text
OBJECTIVE: FUCK FUSHIGURO TOJI
・SYNOPSIS: what started off as two friendly workers transpires into something more when toji asks you out for a couple of drinks one night. and when the two of you agree that your sexual relationship would be nothing more, both of your hearts and emotions yearn for the inevitable ( 3.2k words )
・CONTENT WARNINGS: minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact ! afab!reader (she/her) paramedic!toji & nurse!reader, recreational alcoholic consumption, situationship to lovers. smut content: cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, not proofread.
・SIDE NOTE. here's the very first installation of fuck, marry, kill. and i don't know, i was heavily feeling paramedic!toji. like... mmmyeah ! 😋
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The double doors to the hospital entrance opens upon the men wheeling in the gurney, pushing the poor patient in a hurry. The chill upon entering, while not foreign, still makes Toji shiver as he bustles inside. His veins protrude deeply from his hands as the receptionists open the locked doors without question as one of the paramedics stays behind to check in the newfound patient. The crowded waiting area watches as the once moderate volume spikes up with the gurney wheels as the heavy and rushed footsteps of the men.
Pale yellow walls before the site of desks and nurses heading from one station to the next, Toji’s eyes dart until he sees just who exactly he wants. And just to his pleasure, you’re already looking at him. All men come to a halt, the gurney slowing down as you make a beeline in Toji’s direction. Your arms open up and the taller man doesn’t need to question exactly what you want. 
Arriving at the scene, the sight was a gruesome mess. Blood everywhere as the victim was clearly struggling with their aggressor. It took the police awhile to find it, but they managed to snag out the ID. 
“Gojo Satoru—” Toji recites from the top of his head, yet still handing the small rectangular plastic to you nonetheless. “Twenty-eight year old Asian male. Fatal stabs to his chest, nearly piercing his heart and right lung. He’s in a stable condition right now, and the only contact that we can get for him is a close friend in his contact— Geto Suguru.”
“Gosh!” You can’t help but breathe out, eyes widening as you’re typing in the information into the computer. Though Toji’s giving you a verbatim of the individual’s information, you look over the ID to make sure you have everything correct. Strikingly white hair that seems unreal and blue eyes that are so magnetic and captivating, you can’t help but feel for the young man. 
“I know right,” Toji sighs, sharing your same sentiment. “Heard it was about a vengeful ex or something? Don’t know, but that’s what the cops are speculating right now.”
“Well, I hope whoever did it receives ten times worse,” you breathe, submitting the information as you take a stand. You stretch, hearing the cracks of your muscles as you let out a soft yawn. You feel the eyes of Toji on you as you turn, directing more of your attention to him.
“Careful,” Toji warns in jest, the corners of his lips curving upwards as his eyes light up in amusement. “You might have to be the nurse assigned to caring for them.”
You chuckle at that, slipping yourself out from behind your desk. The patient has already been assigned and brought to a vacant room. You’re dressed in a pair of turquoise blue scrubs, going nice with your skin tone. Toji has just a few more minutes to spare before he has to run off again into the ambulance. Really, he should be heading back now, but he wants to spend a bit more time in your company while he can.
“What time d’ya get off tonight, hm?” he asks. “I’ve got three more hours.”
An eyebrow spikes as you glance over at the taller man. Green eyes that always seem to dance with humor and the scar on the left corner of his lip still standing vastly visible as he grins, expectant of your answer. You snort at how unbelievable this man can be at times. “You’re asking me out after telling me about a severely harmed patient? Do you know nothing about timing?” 
“Hey,” Toji throws his hands up to defend himself. “We see the gnarliest of shit everyday. We have to stay sane somehow.”
Well, he’s not wrong on that part. Most nights you just head straight home, take a quick shower and go to bed. Your work days can be rough within the emergency room as you have many different people come into the hospital. All different kinds of problems and different lifestyles all seeking help from you, the other nurses and doctors. If you didn’t immediately fall asleep once hitting the bed, sometimes your mind would wander and a recap of the day would play in your head. 
You shouldn’t get attached to the people that come in and tell you about their issues and why exactly they’re in the emergency room, but at times you find yourself slipping and you just can’t help yourself. You can’t and refuse to harden your heart, not wanting to be immune to emotion. Every time you find yourself dwelling on the patients you come across, you find yourself slowly losing your sanity. Toji’s right.
“I have the next four hours here, then I’m free,” you finally answer his question before turning on your heel to leave. “I suggest you hurry back before they have your ass again.”
“Again?” Toji snorts, an eyebrow cocking upwards, but he does take a step back in the opposite direction towards the exit. “They never had it.”
You ignore that statement, instead saying, “The longer you stand here stalling, the slower time goes.” And it’s enough to get Toji out of the building. 
Toji doesn't like to drink. On the contrary to his looks, he finds the beverage to be grimacing. Some weren't as bad as the others, but no one could ever convince him to drink willingly. So, while you have a glass of bourbon, he nurses water. And while your drink makes your face sour when he doesn't, both of you need this.
It's a Wednesday night and the both of you— on your weird schedules— don't have work tomorrow. The bar is fairly empty; no more than eleven people in tonight, not counting the lonely bartender. The two of you sit down on stools, listening to the mellow music playing overhead on the speakers as a couple enjoys their company on the dancefloor. Toji’s eyes are on them, fixated as he envies them. 
Envies the look in their eyes, dark bags underneath them but the love is so evident. Envies the tight hold they have on each other as they sway to the music, how their bodies seem to mesh with one another. He envies the intimacy that they hold, but if anyone were to ask him when he was going to settle down or if he was ready to be in a relationship, he'd immediately say no. 
And it's not exactly like he's lying. He's not ready to be in a relationship and he's not someone desperate that he needs to be in one. But, he's been yearning recently. Yearning after this one someone that makes him seek what the couple before him has. 
“Ugh,” you gulp down the remaining content of your glass. “I need another one.” That was your second glass.
“No, you don't,” Toji immediately states, intervening when you turn around to beckon for the bartender. Grabbing the empty glass, the employee looks from you to Toji, trying to decide just who to listen to. You just had two glasses. 
Toji shoots the young man a glare, subtly shaking his head and making him walk away. Groaning when the bartender walks away, you spin in your chair and shoot daggers into Toji. Those eyes, they try to intimidate, but Toji can only smirk in amusement as he fixes himself in his seat again. 
“I thought we came here to relax,” you slump into your chair. “You invited me here tonight, but you're not letting me drink?”
“You're driving home, aren't you?” Toji asks rhetorically. “Plus, do you really wanna spend your day off nursing a hangover instead of actually enjoying it?”
You don't like how his voice drops. He's being serious, but the way your body reacts isn't. A shiver runs down your spine as your eyes gloss with a hint of lust. However, you hold yourself up as you contemplate his words. He's got a point. You don't want to waste your day off with a headache and whining about the discomfort you're in. 
Pressing the balls on your feet on the wooden plank of the stool, you shift in your seat and ready to surrender when Toji drops lower into your space. Lips pricking against the shell of your ears and you can feel his breath against you. 
“I'd rather have you waste it with me,” he hums out a ‘hm’ at the end. “Rather have you in your right mind than be more intoxicated.”
You should be used to his flirtatious remarks, but sometimes he catches you off guard. Speechless, your tongue goes dry as you immediately forget about what you were going to say. Your mouth opens and closes, looking like a fish gasping for water. At this, Toji can't help but smirk, sliding off the bench with ease as he slides the nearly empty glass in the direction of the bartender. “I'll pay for the tab. Let's go.”
He takes your hand and you can feel the rough texture of his calloused palms and fingers, something that you’ve come to get used to and adore. You don’t say anything else, simply following behind him as he leads you out the bar. 
— 
Sometimes you believe that you deserve more than what Toji gives you. That you deserve someone that isn’t afraid to commit. Then, you rationalize everything, realizing that you’re asking for something that you also can’t devote to. Long schedules and when you have free time, you spend it sleeping or tending to duties and tasks that you need to cross off your checklist. So, you take what you can get. After all, you also agreed to this arrangement. 
Legs hiked up and pushed into your chest, your knees pressed against your breasts as Toji hums against your decadent pussy. Folds that gloss like porcelain as he laps at it. Saliva intermingling with your arousal, your slick juices staining your inner thighs and dripping down the crevices of your arousal. Your breathing is erratic with the tight hold he has you in, legs bound to be aching when he’s finally done with you. Tears stain the corners of your eyes as you look down at the brute of a man below you, green eyes that meet yours with visceral hunger evident in them. 
He groans, adjusting his position to only push you higher on your bed as he psychs himself to believe that he’s deeper inside you. Both hands that were holding down your legs become one, strong enough to hinder your movement with only one as his arms. His free one now traverses down to your heat, pulling away for a second for his thumb to press down to your clit and rub it. His eyes become hooded as he takes a moment to watch just how your pussy responds to him. And when he looks up at you once more, loving the way your cheeks are stained with tears as your golden skin glows from the sweat beading down your temple. Your mouth opens in a small o-shape and he’s reminded that he’s the one that has you like this. 
There’s something residing on his chest that he can’t quite identify the name of. He just has this longing to please you— to make you feel good. He groans once more, inserting a finger inside your entrance as his lips wrap around your clit. From the sudden intrusion, your body tenses up as the fingers that were clinging to your soft sheets become entangled in Toji’s dark locks. “Fffuck! Toji, I— I—”
You don’t know what you were going to say, the words tangling up inside your mouth as you feel a second finger inside of you. His thick digits stretch you out, leading you to gnaw on your bottom lip instead as a strangled mewl escapes you. Toji chuckles, vibrations being shot straight through your body. 
“I love the way your body responds to me,” his deep voice reverberates in the sex-soaked bedroom. “I love the fact that I can make you get like this.”
Fingers plunging deep inside you until he can't see them, he stills his movements as he lets go of your legs and climbs up to meet your lips. Engulfing them, he swallows those beautiful sounds you make, turning them muffled. His digits curl inside of you simultaneously, feeling your thighs clamped around his hand as he does so. Your walls pulsate around them, feeling that familiar stir within your stomach as Toji still has your lips in a hold. 
A high-pitched whine escapes you, fingers traversing the length of his body and getting rougher as you feel your orgasm nearly approaching. You don't have to tell him verbatim that you're about to cum, he knows your body better than you do.
Drilling his fingers inside you, it's no battle against him and your tight walls. He grounds himself on the bed, his erection pressing into your sheets more as he pulls away from your lips and focuses on your pussy. 
He watches how his fingers plunge in and out, your juices dripping down from the crevices and to the palm of his hand. Oh, how you make such a mess of him. It brings a cocky smile on his face. And when you finally release, it’s even bigger, staining the sheets underneath you in a milky white that contrasts your skin. Your legs tremble as he thrusts into you one, two, three more times before pulling out. 
His fingers are coated in your slick release, and he doesn’t hesitate to suck them clean. Your eyes meet him at the ministration, a heavy hum that falls from his chest that has your aching legs clenching and begging for more. With a breathy voice as you bring your hands to tangle in his hair, calling for his attention. Your eyes gloss with lust, widening as your bottom lip juts out as you tug him closer to you. “Want you in me,” you breathe. “Please.”
Usually, Toji would prolong this, have you beg for him or tease you relentlessly. However, those eyes of yours… And there’s a hunger that he shares with you that tells him not to wait any longer. With his chest bare for your wandering eyes, he reaches down to tug off his pants, making his erection more prominent than before. It still makes your heart jolt in anticipation and slight fright. Your body seems to react on its own, legs involuntarily spreading as you scoot closer to him. Your bottom lip perched in between your teeth, you gnaw on it as Toji doesn’t need to be told twice. He wants you just as bad as you him, 
Thick and heavy length that plants in between your folds, his pre-cum makes his length glisten in the dim lighting of your bedroom and with your soaked pussy, it only adds to it. With a few fingers, he spreads your lips open, plopping his mushroom tip against the entrance to only rub against it. So much for not being a tease, he snorts to himself. He just loves the look of his cock sliding against your sweet cunt. It’s a sight he’s embedded in his mind when he’s not with you.
You whine, however, bucking your hips upward in a silent plea for more. Again, he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, a mixture of his pre and your release intermingling with each other. With a thumb, he presses down on your clit before slowly entering you. The intrusion is always a delicious pain that you enjoy, you shamelessly moan as your arms wrap around the expanse of his broad shoulders. 
Ignoring the ache of your legs, you bring them to hold onto his hips as Toji grunts, always enjoying that slight flutter of your pussy upon his entering. 
“Shit,” he curses, a sigh following it. “This pussy always feels so good no matter how much I stretch it out.”
It's your turn to drag him into a kiss, creating a wet sound to follow it as he bottoms out inside you. You can feel his eyes on you, traveling down the course of your body and you don't know why you thought it was normal in a relationship like yours. This complication of not having a name for each other, but holding intimate moments where he maps out the span of your body to memorize it. More than a simple situationship should. 
That when he shares the utmost concern for you; when he asks questions that show more than polite concern when he comes across you at work; and when he stays a couple of more minutes to show you a little more care than he should; you don't know why you thought that was normal. 
He takes the time (when he can) to take you out— even if it's just a bar. To treat you more than someone he sees to fuck even if it is the end game. This isn't normal. 
And while he drills into your pussy, chasing after ecstacy, you can barely get out a coherent word let alone a thought, but you know that you're not mixing lust with love. You think you're falling— no, you know you're falling in love. So when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, you don't care about the possible repercussions. “Come— come inside me.”
He halts for a moment, never thinking he'd get the chance to do this. But when your glassy eyes open once more, he sees the certainty in them as you give him a little nod, “Do it. I'll take a pill.”
You milk his cock, a white ring forming around the base as he feels that same shudder of your legs from before as your mouth fixates back into that o-shape. You cry out, but it's cut short as Toji’s lips crash into yours. Quick squeaks that fly from your mouth instead, Toji can't help but chuckle at the sounds before he pulls away and those hazel eyes back on you. I love you. 
That's all he has left to say, but of course, the words never leave his lips.
Your eyes are hooded, but you don't dare give into sleep. Toji's still resting in the bed beside you, eyes transfixed on you. Quirking an eyebrow, you nudge him with your finger. “What's on your mind?”
The corner of his lips twitches, but it's not to smile. Moreso a motion of questioning, contemplating if he should say anything at all. However, your curiosity kills, eyes squinting down as you inch closer to him. Your bare body presses closer. “C’mon,” you poke. “Say it.”
“Do you want more than this?” He asks, eyes becoming serious as he stares down at you. Your mouth goes dry because you think you know what he's asking exactly. Do you want more than… this? However, you feign ignorance.
“M-more than what?” You breathe, your stammer betraying you as Toji immediately calls your bullshit. His head tilts to the side, a knowing gaze on you. 
“More than what I'm offering,” he continues to say nonetheless. “More than just meaningless fucking. Do you want to make this official?”
Your voice is barely above a whisper as you start to wonder if it's a trick question. If you answer, will he automatically end things? “Is that what you want?” There's a faint nod— one that has you taken aback. Still, you feel a surge of confidence when you immediately respond, “Then, yes.”
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one (1) notification from gyomei plays ! thank you so much for playing the first chapter of fuck, marry, kill. please give us a rating along with feedback about the gameplay. looking forward to seeing you on chapter two.
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Mc that wants a secret relationship
This is from an ask/request from @notemejellyfish (tagging so they'll see it sooner). I went in another direction than their headcanons on the same topic, but that's not to say that theirs aren't good. They're a great writer, check them out.
Satan
He understands it
Kicks everyone that tryes to make your relationship public
He would still like if he could brag to Mammon about his relationship with you. Just Mammon, he swears.
Would take away the phone of anyone that ships you with anyone
He preferes smaller scale dates anyways, so just cuddling with you while you both talk about random subjects works just fine for him
He cares deeply about you so he'll always keep your prefrences in mind
Mammon
Why though?
That's his only thought
Don't get him wrong, your his master, he'll do anything you tell him to without complaints
But he wants to know if something is bothering you about being seen with him in public
He can't have his master feeling self-concious, now can he
After you explain that it's due to all the shipping he can't help but laugh
Really? That's easy to fix
Tartaros is the main internet provider in Hell, so he'll ask you if you want all the shipping forums to get removed
He'll try to keep the relationship a secret no matter your answer to the previous question
He's never been in one before and he always wants to try out something new. The feeling of adrenaline at potentially getting caught makes him shudder and he's grateful you gave it to him
Leviathan
Omg finally
The shipping was getting on his nerves, probably more than it did to you
He's so glad you finally made a smart decision, the second in your whole life (the first was dating him)
Since the monarchies in whb are absolute, he bans the use of any tag that includes your name from Hades
Sends a petition to do the same in the other countries and I think only Avisos would sign it (not only is it illegal to steal people's love there, but Bael had enough war threats sent his way from Hades)
He was planing on having a secret, low-scale relationship with you in the first place, so he's the happiest about this change
Beelzebub
He takes this as an invitation
Oh, you want the relationship to be secret?
He can make that fun
He'll make out with you in changing rooms, grope you at the back of the club, pin you to a wall in a small alley and sniff you
He likes the danger of potentially getting caught
Also, just because your relationship isn't public doesn't mean that he won't glare down anyone that gets too close to you
Just because you don't want the internet to know about it doesn't mean that he'll be less passionate and protective of you
Whenever you're out on dates he'll use his power to discuise the two of you, that way, he can be as open with his affection as he likes
He's one of the few that minds the secrecy of your relationship, but he mostly sees it as a new challange
Lucifer
Ok
He'll curse all cameras to shatter when taking a photo or recording of you
It's simple and affective
Gives Gamigin some lectures on how to lie and there's that
Everyone in Paradise Lost might know that you're dating Lucifer, but they're not allowed to say anything about it
And, since no devil would go to Paradise Lost willingly, there's no chance of the secret getting out
He's probably the safest to have a secret relationship with
Nobody in the other countries likes him enough to call for chit-chat, so even if you were in a regular relationship people would still be surprised when they heard you two were dating
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hazz-a-bear · 1 day
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YOUR HAND IN MINE, wen junhui
♡⸝⸝ As soon as Junhui shot up and excused himself from the dinner table, your eyebrows furrowed in concern. If only the love of your life trusted you enough to take care of him at his worst.
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.ᐟ sick junhui ( i'm sorry for inflicting pain on this boy, i really am ) fever, mention of throwing up, nervous and stressed reader, junhui needs to learn how to ask for help, the daunting ordeal of not asking to be taken care of because of the fear that comes with being a burden to your loved ones, absolute sweethearts minghao and jihoon
a/n - sick junnie is such a cat, i can cry. somebody give this boy a kiss and tell him it's okay. leave some feedback please please <3
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When Jihoon suddenly puts a hand on your shoulder, you jump in your seat. Startled by his out-of-order action, you let your eyes find his, a question pausing in the air. You watch as Jihoon sighs and gives you a look - quite unreadable as always. When you simply cocks your head to the side, Jihoon is sighing again like a damsel in distress before he finally nudges his gaze towards your lap, specifically, your knee and oh –
You let your eyes zero on the way your knee bounces in sync with the song playing through the venue - a good hundred-something bpm to it and almost making it look like it's having a seizure of its' own. Wait, holy shit, were you shaking the fucking table?
"Calm down, you weren't" It's Minghao who comforts you from the other side of you, having moved to the empty seat next to you while you've been distracted. "You're fidgety"
Minghao is almost peering into you, doe eyes slightly wide as they run along your face with concern clearly written across his eyes. From your other side, Jihoon is pretending to not listen. He's long retracted his hand and sat back in his seat, but you knew he still had one year stuck in the conversation out of concern.
"Yn," Minghao almost whispers as if not to bother you. "Hey, calm down. It's okay. I'm sure he's alright"
You try your best to nod, not trusting yourself to give him a verbal answer knowing you would just end up with a whole lot of nonsense pouring out of your mouth as a result of your nerves. But still, even as you silently reassure him, you can't seem to stop the shaking in your leg, the shudder in your breath and that god-awful feeling in your gut.
"I'll go check on Jun" Jihoon says from your right, giving away how he'd been listening and making you look up at him.
He's already getting up from his place, brushing his hands against his pants as he squeezes between your chairs and slips away from the seat. From the corner of your eye, you see Minghao trying to get up as well, only to be forced back into his chair by Jihoon with a hand on his shoulder.
"Stay with her. I'll go" You hear Jihoon say to the younger, stern and a rare display of worry dripping from the words rolling out of his tongue.
"Yn? Yn, look at me" There's a light feeling of pressure on your knee, and you turn your face to meet Minghao's eyes, ever so comforting. "Hey, it's okay, honey. Jihoon hyung will check on him, okay? And then they'll be back, and then he'll be right here next to you. No need to get worked up, yeah? Junnie wouldn't want you to get worked up at all"
Minghao is peering into your face again, nodding and confirming if you've processed what he's saying before smiling kindly at you. "So, just breathe. He's okay"
The way Minghao is so careful with his words, trying to calm you down with the gentlest touch and the softest words reminds you of just how great of a person he is.
Minghao has always been so fond of you, ever since you entered Jun's life as a constant figure. At first, he might have been a little hard to approach. Considering just how protective he was of his Jun gēgē, you understood when Minghao shied away from warming up to you when you'd been introduced to each other. Junhui had been the most eager when the two of you met, almost bouncing off his feet at the mere thought of his two favourite people (his words, of course) becoming close. It had taken some time for you two to get comfortable with each other as Jun's best friend and Jun's partner, yet by now, you're convinced that Minghao considered you a sister - maybe a mother figure even. Minghao is now one of your best friends as well - the two of you often hang out by yourselves, sharing similar likings in music and flavours of tea. So it was inevitable for him to get worried when you started spacing out ten minutes into Junhui's disappearance - eyes hazy and knee starting to bound under the table.
"He kept saying he didn't feel good. He actually didn't seem well at all today" You stagger, slumping your head. "I thought it was nothing, so I didn't bother asking. Gosh, Hao, I should've checked on him a little more"
"Hey, come on" Minghao shifts in his seat, bringing a hand to rest on top of yours in an attempt to console you. "He'll be okay, I'm sure. You have nothing to be scared of. Jihoon is with him, yeah? He'll be feeling better, and he'll be back to his usual self in no time, yn"
"But I should've asked. Hao, you know perfectly well how he doesn't say out loud when he's sick. He thinks he's being a burden, so he doesn't tell me even though he needs me. And god, it worries me so much" You try your best to stay calm, seeing a few others like Joshua and Jeonghan looking your way with lifted eyebrows and confused glances.
You seriously did not want to cause a scene in the middle of the function in front of everyone - but also, you had an extent to keep your composure while your boyfriend was probably passing in the restroom.
The Seventeen boys ( or mostly Seuncheol and his wallet ) had planned a dinner party, a quiet get-together with all their close friends following the end of their tour.
Junhui had been so excited when he passed you the invite, all giddy and smiles, bouncing on his feet as he suggested the two of you should wear matching outfits and be lovey-dovey all evening to purposefully piss Jeonghan off for his 'lack of bitches/respectfully' ( Again, his words ) His excitement passed on to you, more because of Junhui's boxy smile and lit up eyes as he romped around than the whole dinner ordeal. Sure, you were just as eager to celebrate the guys finally having a moment to wind down, but seeing Junhui so happy-go sunshine was better than anything in the whole world.
When the two of you woke up this morning, Junhui hadn't forgotten to cheerily mumble into your shoulder about how he picked a suit to match your outfit, and Jeonghan was going to be so sour all night about it.
You had expected him to be stuck to you all day, talking your ear off about everything and nothing all at once since today had been an off day for him. His habitual routine at home was being stubborn all day and refusing to let go of your arm to follow you around the house like a boy cat.
You hadn't first noticed any signs of sickness at all as Junhui spent the morning like usual, clinging to your back and playing on his phone for the most part. And when he asked if he could go and lay down for a while, you'd simply thought he wanted to rest out of the weariness that came with the newly ended tour.
You pressed a kiss to his forehead before sending him off to bed to get a good rest, knowing he would have to stay active for the latter part of the night. Junhui almost slept the entire afternoon off, curled up on your bed with a newfound frown pinching his eyebrows together even in his state of unconsciousness. When you finally woke him up, Junhui had spent a fair share of minutes groaning and whining before getting out of bed, saying something about a headache, and quickly waving a hand to shoo you off when you instantly got worried.
Even as you kept asking him once the two of you left the house, he had simply smiled and pressed a soothing kiss to your temple over the console, telling you not to worry your pretty little head ( His words for the third time )
It was Seungkwan who pointed out how pale Junhui looked, joking about how he should go out into the sun a little bit more or he'd end up like Jihoon. Mingyu and Seokmin joined, saying something about how it would be another Macau situation if he didn't take care of himself enough - which made you throw a hurried gaze of worry towards Junhui, who avoided your eyes as his life depended on it.
Even Seungcheol, who mostly kept to himself turned towards you at some point during the night, quietly asking if Junhui had been eating well after returning home from the tour.
And since then, you hadn't been able to stop the waves of worry from washing over you.
Junhui had been doing a great job of trying to pretend like he was okay for the most part. The painful pinch that took over his features while he made conversation with one of the guests was gone as soon as it came. Junhui was back to his usual smile with rattled eyes darting around to see if he'd been caught. Later, when you saw him wavering on his feet, hand immediately flying to his temple, you had been by his side in an instant, asking if he was surely okay. Your boyfriend flashed his million-dollar smile at you once again, turning away to introduce you to one of his friends and successfully steering the attention away from the matter at hand.
It was when Junhui excused himself from the table to go to the restroom you started getting anxious. It was clear to anyone with a working pair of eyes that Junhui was not feeling well. Even if nobody voiced anything outright - the concerned looks the boys threw at you said enough.
And now, seeing Jihoon return with his face twisted into a scowl, you were on your feet immediately, anxiety doubling in amount and Minghao following right beside you.
"What's wrong?" Your voice came out breathless and frantic, hands reaching to hold Jihoon by the arms. "Is he okay?"
"He caught something serious by the looks of it" Jihoon sighs with an unsettling look in his eyes. "He threw up. Dinner and maybe lunch too, all of it. I tried to get him out, but he's asking for you. He doesn't look good"
From the corner of your eyes, you can see how the rest of the boys are trying to listen to your conversation, wanting to know how Jun's doing after abruptly getting up and leaving the table.
Not sparing a glance at anyone, you're pushing past Jihoon in the direction of the restrooms in an instant. If it was any other time, you would have lingered outside waiting for Junhui to come back to you instead of barging inside the men's room. But this wasn't any other time - Junhui wasn't well and he clearly needed you with him - even explicitly telling Jihoon outright.
"Junnie" You're whispering when you finally push the door to the overly luxurious restroom, gaze falling on your boyfriend sitting against the heavy door of one of the stalls.
Jihoon and Minghao, who had followed after you hot on their heels, were kind enough to wait outside without tracking your steps - possibly knowing Junhui would want some time alone with you. You knew the two would be outside with ears turned your way anyway, ready to be of help if you needed.
"My baby, what's wrong?" Without even minding the condition of the outfit you're wearing, you kneel right in front of him on the shining marble of the floor.
Junhui cracks his eyes open as you bring up a hand to his flushed face. "Yn" He croaks, the scratch in his voice making you wince as you shuffle closer, stroking the warm skin of his cheeks. "It hurts. My head, my throat, I- I don't- I don't know what happened"
"Oh sweetheart, you should've told me. I was so worried" Junhui leans his face into your hand as you trace your fingers against his skin, reminding you of his kitty antics. One of his own hands comes up to shakily wrap around your wrist, keeping you close to him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you" He whispers, eyes still drooping out of exhaustion. "Jihoonie said you were upset. I'm sorry"
"I wasn't upset at you, Jun. I was just worried" With a smile, you reassure him, not wanting to show your uneasiness with him in such a vulnerable condition. "Tell me how you feel, baby. Did you throw up?"
Junhui nods, eyes drooping and lips forming into an adorable pout.
"My poor baby" You can't help but pull your lips into a pout as well, cooing and bringing your other hand to cup his face between your cold palms.
As much as you hated the idea of Junhui getting sick on your watch, you secretly loved the clinginess that came with it like a plague. A sick Junhui meant an extra sulky Junhui, all cute pouts and teary eyes looking up at you until he'd successfully lured (lowkey coerced) you into giving him all your attention (doting on him 24/7 and doing things you wouldn't have agreed to do for a healthy Junhui)
After the initial dilemma of processing the fact that he's been bedridden, Junhui usually had the habit of pulling a drama queen card out of his pocket whenever he got sick. He would flat-out refuse to eat, take his medicine or sometimes even go see a doctor at all. Throwing small fits whenever you tried to argue with him about it, he would always guilt trip you into cuddling with him at the end of the day, unable to keep his limbs to himself.
But still, you adored the devious being he turned to whenever he was sick, mumbling in his sleep and nibbling on his food like a little cat as you orbit around him, pampering him like no tomorrow.
"Do you wanna go home, Jun? You feel really warm. Jihoon said you have a fever" You mumbled with a frown, hands feeling around for the warmth that radiated off his skin.
"Mmh. Jihoon's lying, I'm perfectly fine" Junhui opens his eyes and looks at you with a cheeky smile pulling on his lips. Yet, the small wince in his eyes is too noticeable to slip past your attention.
You pat his cheeks with a smile to match his. "Oh really, is that so? Well, I'm still taking you home and grounding you for the next two weeks so, we can't do anything about that"
Junhui exaggerates a whine at that, head rolling back against the door, dramatizing his dislike towards the idea of being the victim of your worries for the next couple of days. But you both know how much he loves to be the centre of your attention - being cared for and so so loved on like he deserved to be.
Junhui then silently lets you fuss over him, wiping his face with damp towels trying to soothe the flaring of warmth that's spreading through him. 
Typically, Junhui would have been smiling his boxy smile, trying to lighten the mood by cracking his list of bad jokes as you fussed over him. So when he just sits silently with his head thrown back and eyes closed, you assume his condition might be a little more severe than usual. You can see the way he is still flushed, a sheen of sweat left behind as a result of the fever spreading through him. His hands are clammy where he keeps them in his lap, a clear sign of just how flimsy he's feeling now.
"My head hurts" He mumbles once you settle down in front of him again, immediately making you run a hand through his hair softly. You try to massage his head, fingers pressing to his temples knowing it usually helps with his migraines.
"We'll go home, okay?" You say. "You need to rest, Jun. You're still exhausted- you're gonna say no but your body needs lots of rest, baby. I knew something was wrong when you went to bed earlier, I just didn't think you'd get sick so soon"
Though you try your best to not let your voice waver, you know Junhui's picked up on the way your demeanour shrinks from the way your voice quietens down. Junhui, ever so observant and managing to see through all the cracks, opens his eyes to look over at you with a pinched frown. 
He blindly reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, bringing them up to his lips. You watch as he turns your palm towards him and presses a kiss to the middle of your palm. He lets your hands rest against his face, cradling it close before he starts to speak.
"I should've told you" He sighs, nuzzling his nose against your palm. "I- I just didn't want to bother you, you know? You've been so busy with work and I just - I just didn't want to add on to it, yn. I've been away for so long and you've been nothing but looking after me all this time. I just wanted to stop being so...so dependent. I thought I could look after myself, not be a burden for once. I'm sorry"
You feel a part of your heartbreak as you listen to Junhui's words - spoken so solemnly as he explains how he simply wanted to stop being so reliant on you and take care of himself as a person. As if he could ever be a burden in your dictionary of love and as if he doesn't know that your world quite literally revolves around him at all times.
"Don't...don't say that" You start, making him pause on his words. "Don't ever- god, Jun. Don't ever say you're being a burden - to me, out of everyone"
 Junhui's eyes are glazed over with a meek apologetic look as you try to form your words, too perplexed to even string your thoughts together. "You'll never be a burden to me, you know that? Never. If anything, I'm always fucking itching to know what's going on in this mind of yours. I always want to know when you're feeling bad or sick or just, anything. I always want to know how you're doing. I'm here to take care of you. Fever, no fever- I'm always going to look after you and coddle you, Jun"
"I love you so much, okay? I don't want you to think you're burdening me by telling me you have a fever darling. I always want to know. What if Jihoonie didn't come to check on you, hm? Would you have been able to go back out there by yourself and pretend everything's fine?" Junhui's face lowers as he lets your words wash over you.
Trying to keep your voice as comforting as possible, you lift his face to meet his eyes, a bit glazed over with a crumpled expression.
"Don't ever say sorry for wanting to be taken care of, Wen Junhui" Your words are soft, yet, sharp. "Not when you know you know I would run to the ends of the earth of you. Not when you know I know you would do the same for me if I was ever in your place"
"You deserve so much love and I won't ever sleep peacefully without knowing I've shown you how much I do"
Junhui stares at you, lips downturned and eyes suddenly glassy and shining under the harsh light of the room. You smile at him, tipping his head up a little, not wanting to let the tears fall past his waterline. He returns a watery smile with a small nod when you pass a pointed look, trying to convey just how serious your words were. He takes a shaky breath, blinking away the tears in his eyes before he looks back up at you.
"You're so good to me. Always"
"I love you" You lean forward before pressing a fleeting kiss to his temple and resting your lips against his warm skin - trying to ignore the fact that you're both still settled on the shiny floor of the bathroom.
"I love you too. Thank you"
The two of you are broken apart when a knock is heard through the door before it's pushed open and Minghao pokes his head through the gap. Jihoon shuffles in right behind Minghao, taking a moment to go a once over of their position on the floor before rolling his eyes/fondly.
"Gē, how are you?" Minghao kneels right next to you, a hand reaching up to rest against Junhui's forehead as the younger searches his face.
"I think I've caught a fever, Hao" Junhui, gazing at him with lax eyes, gives him a tight-lipped smile. "Puked my entire dinner down, my throat hurts now"
"Oh, Junnie" The younger lets his hand rest against the side of his face, thumb stroking the skin of Jun's ear comfortably. "You should've told yn, you idiot. What if it got worse, huh? You passed out or something and Jihoon hyung didn't come to check up on you? What then? Do you know how worried yn was? Stop being a dummy"
Junhui squints his eyes as Minghao scolds him, nodding his head along to the sharp words the younger throws at him with practised ease. Minghao jabs at his side for the effect yet the gentle and relieved look in his eyes under the faux rage isn't hard to notice.
"Yeah," Jihoon agrees from next to them. "You gave us quite the scare"
Junhui fixes his lips into another pout when Jihoon lightly smacks his head, looking down at him from where he's standing. The look on his face makes Jihoon sigh before he reaches to softly ruffle his hair with a carefully masked gleam of affection.
"We should get you home" Minghao's looking up at you when he says, still stroking Jun's skin, making you agree with a firm nod. Looking back at your boyfriend who opens his mouth to protest, he fixes him with one short and sharp look. "If you even try to come up with a fuck ass reason to why we should let you stay here when you look like utter shit and clearly needs to lie the fuck down, I'm gonna punch you in the eye"
"No hesitation, no remorse" Jihoon joins, fingers tightening in Junhui's hair as if to emphasize the seriousness of his threat. With an amusing helpless look in his eyes, Junhui looks over to you who's still kneeling in front of him, fiddling with his fingers on top of your lap.
"And I'll tell Seungcheol you're refusing to go to a doctor" You shrug and Junhui almost shudders. They all know how serious (and fucking terrifying) Seuncheol is when it comes to health.
Eventually - and by eventually, you mean after throwing a fit about that face that he's being taken home and only settling down once you'd promised to let him eat breakfast for dinner for the next two nights - Junhui agrees to return home with you.
You try not to worry too much when he wobbles on his feet once Minghao and Jihoon pull him up from the floor. Understanding how he's not stable on his own, Junhui clings to the two as they steer him out of the restroom and promise to take him straight to the car.
"People are going to think I drank too much and passed out or something, oh god" You smile at the way Junhui's whine carries down the hallway away from you.
When you're back at the main area, quietly grabbing your bag and excusing yourself from everyone, some of the boys are quick to pull you aside. Once you've reassured them that yes, Jun is okay and no, he doesn't have a severe case of Diarrhea, Chan, it's a fever, you say your goodbyes to them. Jeonghan, who's close to tears and fretting like a mother hen, offers to walk you to your car yet, you're saved by Seungcheol who pulls the other to his side with an understanding smile.
"Hannie, yn will update us, don't worry" He assured the boy before turning towards you. "Take care of him, okay? I'll clear his schedule and let you know. Just- make sure he's okay, yn"
"Of course, always"
When you finally approach your car, you notice how Junhui is already settled in the passenger seat, eyes closed and breathing a little easier than before. You smile at the way Jihoon is stroking through his hair, trying to act cool about it when he notices you looking.
"I'll take him home now" You announce. "Thank you guys. Really, thank you so much. I already did so much"
"Anything for Jun" Jihoon mumbles. "He's been working hard"
Minghao moves to give you a small hug, rubbing your back soothingly. "You're okay to drive? We can get a driver for you if not"
"Yeah, I'm okay" You confirm. "I didn't have anything to drink"
"I know. But you're sure?" You know Minghao is asking if you're in a clear state of mind to handle a vehicle this deep into the night, knowing you've been a bit ruffled earlier. With a sure nod, you assure him.
"Get home safe, yn. Send me a text and make sure he's well rested, please"
With the promise of nursing Jun to your best capability, you ultimately get in the car before pulling away from the parking lot. Finally, you let out a breath, feeling the heaviness in your heart substituting while the task of bringing Junhui home and making sure he's taken care of properly for the night is pushed to the limelight of your priorities. You feel the exhaustion, all the nerves and the worries you spent on the boy you love, finally catching up to you as you drive through the city streets. Sparing a glance at the same boy now peacefully resting on the passenger seat next to you, skin lit up by the dim street lights outside, you feel your heart filling with a new wave of affection towards the only one who held your heart in his hands.
God, how you loved him.
When Junhui's fingers blindly reach across the console to lace with your own in the dark, you know his hand was the one thing you'd never allow yourself to let go of.
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urhoneycombwitch · 13 hours
Text
plan b
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foreword: thank you to this anon, this was just the right amount of sitcom Spider-man pointing meme-ery that I needed. wrote this with husky!neighbor!Eddie since I thiiiink I’ve established that version of him is modern so hopefully this aligns with my made-up canon. lol.
wc: 1.9k
cw: weight mention (in the context of finding meds, no numbers used), embarrassment on R’s end of kink discussion, frenemies vibes between R and Eddie (they get under each other’s skin but in a hot way <3), Eddie is soft-domming in public, no actual smut but still +18 mdni
DISCLAIMER: Plan B can really fuck your shit up and shouldn’t necessarily be used when introducing new kinks. Please do your research and consult w/ a medical professional before using. Putting the fiction in fic with this one.
_____
Christ, there are too many options.
Your vision is swimming in the Family Planning aisle, fluorescent overheads of the CVS taking up residence in your left temple.
You press your fingertips against the spot, massaging gently as you pull different brands of boxes from the shelf to inspect the instructions.
This one says take within twenty-four hours, that might be- oh, shit, there’s a weight cap. Dammit. And this one’s… twice the price? For fucking why?
Frustrated, you shove the expensive thing back in place. The words on the blue label next in line catches your eye- Pre-Seed Fertility Lubricant- and you snap your hand away, as if scorched. Nope. Opposite of what you need. Christ. Pre-Seed?!
It’s almost giggle-worthy. You take out your phone, glancing up and down the aisle; the store is empty this late at night, just an older woman behind the front registers who had greeted you earlier with bored corporate formality, eyes fixed on her magazine.
Picture of Pre-Seed, taken. Check that one off the list. The only person who you’d want to share a laugh over text about this with is the one person who does not need to know why you’re in the goddamn Family Planning aisle at ten PM. On a Thursday.
At least, not yet. You lock your phone, pocketing it before zeroing in on the purple and green-themed Plan B that boasts One Tablet, One Step.
Although it’s pricier than some of the other morning-after pills, it’s the only one that you feel fully confident about buying. You give the box a little toss, feeling the next-to-nothing weight of it in your palm. Fifty bucks for a tiny pill, one that you may not even end up using- but you’ll be goddamned if you’re caught unprepared.
“Can I help you find anything?”
Your blood flashes cold, then hot, as you realize who the voice belongs to- attention focused elsewhere, you didn’t hear Eddie sidling up the aisle until now.
He’s leaning into his arm on the nearest shelf, grinning wolfishly at his own joke, chocolate eyes lit up at having found you here. He looks obscene- biceps and chest bulging at the stretched fabric of his t-shirt, hair unspooling dark curls from a low bun, black ink tattoos rippling over his bare forearms and peeking out from beneath his collar.
Honestly, you don’t know why he wasn’t stopped at the door by the woman on night shift. He’s bordering public indecency with those fitted Levi’s alone.
Fortunately the shock of hearing Eddie’s low voice is not enough to send the Plan B in your hand flying- too late to reshelve it without him seeing, you cling to it tighter, plastic creaking under your grip as you pray to every god ever that he doesn’t notice.
“Oh! Hey. Hi. Haha, very funny.” Well, that was smooth, but at least you said something comprehensible. “What’re you doing here?”
Eddie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, using his free arm to reach for a pack of condoms near your head- “Late night shopping. Stocking up for the weekend. Can’t seem to keep these around, seeing as I’m being fucked out of house and home.”
”Well… apartment,” you correct, heart leaping at the smile lines that jump around Eddie’s eyes. This is good, maybe you can just keep him talking and find a second to shove the Plan B into a random spot or perhaps launch it into the sun-
Nope, too late. Mid-crinkle, Eddie’s eyes drop to the package in your hand, and you watch his face drop as he processes multiple trains of thought at once.
“Oh, shit. Is that… did we…?”
There’s a pinch between his dark brows, likely running through the last few weeks of your hookups (which have all been protected) and trying to do the mental math; you shake your head, trying to stammer through the flush of embarrassment that’s overtaking your system.
“No, it’s not- not from us. Not from you. I mean…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably from one sneaker to the other as words hit a jam in your throat.
Eddie’s in a full frown now, pushing off the shelf, standing to his full height, confusion and hurt seeping into his expression, voice quiet and pitched deep- “Is it from someone else?”
“Oh my god.” This was a nightmare, right? You’d like to wake up now. “No, no, not from anyone else. It’s-”
A sharp exhale, a shake of your head, and the words loosen all at once- “I was gonna get it for us, for me, for this weekend, if you wanted to give me a reason to use it.”
Eddie goes as still as you’ve ever seen him before, fingers stopped in their usual constant tapping, blinking at the box in your hands.
His face smooths.
Then he smiles.
Your stomach flips.
Eddie slides the condoms back into the wrong spot, not bothering to look as he leans in close enough for you to smell the spice of his cologne as he says in a sex-dipped timbre: “Well if you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, why didn’t you just say so?”
A horrified, awkward squawk escapes before you can bite it back; your head whips down the aisle to make sure no one else was within earshot of his dirty mouth as you blindly shove the Plan B away, deep into a shelf. “Oh my god. Jesus christ.”
”Eddie is just fine,” he responds mildly, the cool demeanor to your rapidly heating one as his grin simmers wicked between dimpled cheeks.
“Forget it,” you start, shaking your head and making to brush past, embarrassment flooding in hot, “Just forget-”
Eddie catches you by the elbow, effectively locking you in place with a single move, but he’s not looking at you; with his free hand, he snaps up the slightly crumpled box and scans the words.
“Y’think one will be enough?”
The flood subsides, gives you pause enough to stutter out, “W-what?”
Eddie’s fingers flex on your arm. He turns the box over in his big hand, rings glinting. “We’d better get two. Just in case.”
Your skin feels the impression of his palm even after he lets go, like a Polaroid in rapid reverse as he grabs a second box, warmth fading fast from your skin. “I don’t think- I mean, that’s not how they work, I should probably find a more permanent sol-”
“Just for the weekend.” His eyes are back on you now, self-satisfied smirk giving way to something darker, more intense. “Yeah?”
A shiver casts goosebumps down the length of your body. He’s goddamn toying with you, in the middle of a fucking CVS. Despite your flare of irritation, you nod, voice nearly a croak as you echo, “Yeah.”
The grin lights up his face again. “Good girl.”
Eddie doesn’t give you time to react to this (verbally, anyways- your cunt is most certainly responding to the praise despite your best efforts to remain unaffected), using one large hand to hold both boxes and another to press at the small of your back, leading you down the aisle.
Truthfully, you’re grateful for the help (regardless of his dominance-based tendencies that don’t usually get you this easy); based on the ringing in your ears, you’re doubtful of your own ability to navigate the maze of aisles.
Eddie walks you both to the front register, and you watch as if outside of your own body while the cashier scans the barcodes and Eddie swipes his card.
He pockets the receipt, slides a finger through the handles of the plastic bag, and holds it out between your bodies. Right in front of the goddamn cashier.
”For you.”
This brings you back to yourself, a bit, mortification giving way to annoyance (a much more useful emotion in this scenario), and you snatch it to your chest. It’s your turn to grab Eddie’s elbow, half-dragging him towards the exit.
“Come again soon,” the cashier calls, still in monotone.
So close. You’re less than a yard away from the sliding glass doors that would have swallowed Eddie’s reply- but as it stands, he gets in one last cheerful wave, an award-winning, dimple-charmed smile to match his bright response.
“She will!”
Damn him. You give a final tug and you’re both out in the parking lot, glass doors closing automatically with a whoosh behind you, cool night air kissing at your cheeks.
”Seriously?” You’re mature enough to recognize that your anger is misplaced, adrenaline-fueled, but that doesn’t stop you from whirling on Eddie, giving his shoulder a sharp shove that (unfortunately, tantalizingly) doesn’t move him an inch. “I can never return to this fucking store. Thanks for that.”
Eddie really doesn’t help his case, grin turned shit-eating as he rustles through his various pockets for his pack of cigarettes- “Careful, sweetheart- you know how hot and bothered I get when you’re mad.”
”Unbelievable.” You turn on a swift heel, slipping the bag loops up your arm to dig for your keys. “You just got me blacklisted from our local drugstore and you don’t even care.”
There’s the snick of a lighter behind you, while your car a few spaces down chirrups and blinks in response to the furious press of your fob’s unlock button.
Eddie chuckles, sardonic and unsympathetic. “Too bad this is the only CVS in the whole world. I think you’ll live, princess.”
Ignoring this, you stomp towards your car, petulant, bag rustling; the door is half-open when Eddie calls, “So, are you coming over tonight, or what?”
“Obviously!”
The door slams with more force than you intend, sound ricocheting across the lot.
From the respite of your tinted windows, you watch as a streetlamp-haloed Eddie takes a drag from a cigarette, smoke drifting thick around a hazy visage of the hottest man alive. (Maybe you’re a touch biased. But your opinion is based on personal accounts, so fuck the naysayers.)
He tips his head back to look at the stars, pale column of throat illuminated- with a flush of realization, you scoff. He’s putting on a show for you.
Two can play, you think, driving your seatbelt into place with a click. But first I’m gonna have to make a stop at home. Namely for new undies.
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224bbaker · 15 hours
Text
Hello detectives! 🔎
Do you love:
Mystery fiction, especially paired with a comedic tone, like Knives Out, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, or Only Murders in the Building?
Sherlock & Co, and want another, different take on the Holmes canon to add to your rotation of shows?
Irreverent historical comedies with surprising heart and messages about the people who often get left in the margins of history like Operation Mincemeat and Our Flag Means Death?
Re: Dracula, and other audio dramas that present unique takes on classic literature?
British audio comedy like Wooden Overcoats, Cabin Pressure, and Bleak Expectations?
The original ACD Sherlock Holmes stories but wish there was explicit, textual representation of gay, lesbian, and ace identities that are celebrated and centered within the actual text?
Adorable senior cat mascots?
May we present ourselves, Fawx & Stallion, a mystery-comedy podcast about the best detective team on Baker Street! (Not that one.) Our full first season is available now, and we are currently crowdfunding for Season 2! If a queer, Victorian mystery-comedy set in the world of Sherlock Holmes sounds like it might be up your alley, please consider giving us a listen, and if you're able, supporting our crowdfund so that our indie team can bring another mystery to life!
#ForAmbrosius
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princessfbi · 1 day
Note
Hello :) From the Sic Fic Prompts. Either 1. Constantly clinging to caretaker because everything hurts, they're miserable, and they don't know what to do with themselves. or 8. Curled up in bed, not wanting to move and swaddled in blankets. If either spark anything for you!
Buck had fallen asleep somewhere in the third hour of waiting and frankly, Tommy couldn't blame him. A long afternoon on shift not feeling well, a restless night that had him tossing and turning as a fever built up in pitch beneath his skin, and a 3 AM drive to the ER on a Saturday night would've worn out anyone.
The waiting room had been packed and considering Buck had walked in on his own two feet--- while listing against Tommy's side might he add--- that meant he'd been bumped down to the lower end of the priority list. That didn't make Buck feel any better and Tommy's patience was wearing thin.
The only reason Tommy's knee wasn't bouncing was because Buck was draped across his lap trying to get a little bit of rest and Tommy would've rather cut off his own leg than wake him. Tommy had cupped Buck's eyes to shield them from the fluorescents and frankly, Tommy didn't care if the old woman with the cut finger kept shooting them pointed looks because they were taking up three chairs. Buck's legs were long but even curled up as tight as he could meant that they were taking up more space than they normally would in a crowded room.
But in Tommy's opinion, bordering five hours of waiting meant they earned three chairs and he wasn't above hissing at little old ladies who tried to wake his boyfriend from the only sleep he'd managed to get in forty-eight hours.
Even in his sleep, Buck's fingers were tangled in a white knuckle grip around his shirt, giving away just how uncomfortable Buck was.
It had been a slow progression since he'd picked Buck up from the station looking like he was ready to drop. First it had been the hand, with Buck tangling their fingers together and curling around his wrist like he was afraid Tommy would take it away. Then it had been his side, his face ducking down to hide against Tommy's throat. Then it had been his waist as Tommy wrapped his arms around him and held him tight, wishing there was something more he could do to make him feel even slightly better. Even when they had checked in, Buck had been all but draped against him like Tommy and Tommy's arm was the only thing keeping him upright.
He'd been downright clingy. Which wasn't new for Buck. Now that Buck knew he could, he took as much as he liked. A hand, a kiss, a sip of his coffee, and a snuggle even when Tommy was trying to get some things done. But it was heavy and almost desperate in the way he was holding onto Tommy like he was afraid he'd blink and Tommy would disappear.
Tommy just held him back as tight as he could.
"Evan Buckley?" A nurse called and Tommy's head shot up so fast he went dizzy. He spotted her in the center of all the chaos, holding a tablet close to her chest, and Tommy almost knocked Buck off at the jolt that ran through him.
He lifted a hand before dropping his attention back down to Buck.
"Evan," Tommy said, sweeping his fingers through Buck's hair. "You gotta wake up,"
The noise Buck made was nothing short of miserable as his nose scrunched up. Tommy rubbed his back as he cupped a hand behind his head to keep him from rolling too fast. He didn't think they would skip him but the waiting room had been so packed that he didn't want to chance it either.
"Come on, baby. They're ready for you."
"Do you need help?" The nurse asked, her voice gentle and low and Tommy shot her a grateful look as he shook his head.
"I got him," he said as Buck burrowed his face into his stomach. "Come on sleepyhead. Let me help you."
Tommy didn't even think Buck opened his eyes as he let Tommy sit him upright. Buck simply hid his face back in Tommy's throat again and curled his arms around his waist, letting Tommy do most of the work.
The first step ripped a whimper from his lips that Tommy knew Buck would've rather kept to himself. It got buried in his skin where Tommy promised to keep it safe just for him.
"Okay," Tommy said, making a decision that would get Buck to the closest bed as fast as possible. He bent down and scooped up under Back's back and knees and lifted him, mindful of the twinge in his back as he carried him across the waiting room.
"You sure you don't want a wheelchair?" The nurse asked and Tommy shook his head.
Tired, heavy arms wrapped around his neck and stayed there like Buck was stuck to him with a magnet and Buck was all lead.
"No offense," Tommy said to her. "But I want him in a bed now. Just point me in the direction."
The nurse nodded once before she waved him on. "Follow me."
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Text
"Dude, I took over your dad's body.."
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"...and goddamn is there a lot of him to work with! I've been a ghost for years now, but I've never been inside a 6' 3" ex-linebacker! I've been checking him out all afternoon, and let me tell you that this man is big and hairy all over," he punctuates his comment with a wink.
Your dad, the man you've looked up to your entire life, is saying things you don't want to think about while casually laying on the couch in nothing but a robe and booty shorts. The urge to puke is suppressed, but you know that Jimmy has crossed a line here. Your deceased friend has possessed bullies, professors, and more, but he's never had the balls to take over your own family. What was he thinking?
"I jumped into him while he was at work. I think his coworkers probably found it strange when I picked up his briefcase and waddled his ass out the door," Jimmy chuckles at the memory, "But don't worry. Your old man had plenty of sick days he wasn't gonna use."
It doesn't take long for you to burst out in anger at the spirit controlling your father. Your face is hot, and you can't stand to watch your dad get puppetted around like a fool!
"Calm the fuck down!" he swears uncharacteristically, "Give this big guy a hug. Come here. Daddy needs some love..."
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The thought of hugging your father while he's being forced to act like this feels wrong, but you relent. A part of you is glad for the embrace. It might not actually be your dad, but paternal comfort is exactly what you need right now, and your real dad isn't the type to give his child a hug.
"That's it, son," Jimmy pets your head with your father's thick hands, "Let daddy take care of you. Let your dumb old fart-of-a-father give you some much-needed attention."
You can't help but chuckle at the self-deprecating joke. Your real dad was too proud to laugh at himself, and he'd never made an effort to be anything other than distant and formal with you. In fact, there was a lot your real dad would never do; he'd never leave the office in the middle of the day, he'd never lay around the house like a lazy bum, and he'd certainly never let his hairy chest and thick legs be on full display in front of his disappointing gay son.
Suddenly, while still embraced, you realize there's something poking into your waist.
"Sorry, dude," your father whispers in your ear, "I guess your dad is just happy to see you."
You push him away, insisting that Jimmy needs to stay out of family members' bodies because this just feels so wrong! You search the pair of unnaturally blank eyes for any sign that Jimmy might be listening to you.
"You need to relax, bro," your dad (Jimmy) groans in annoyance. He looks disappointed, but then he sparks up and gives you a new look of excitement. "Son," he says with exaggerated machismo, "Take a page from my book and learn to chill out. It doesn't matter what the world thinks about you or me. I'll prove it to you..."
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With a placid grin and blank gaze, your father lumbers past and marches straight out the front door of the house. You're almost too stunned to follow. Was Jimmy really going to parade your dad's body around the neighborhood in nothing but his robe?
"Afternoon, neighbor," your father's rumbling tone bellows across the street, "Lovely weather, today. My son thought I should take my fat hairy gut for a little stroll in the sun. You know us dads have got to keep our boys happy. Am I right?"
Mr. Jones stares at your father from his porch, just as shocked as you are. He often drank beers with this man and every other neighborhood dad at backyard barbecues and living room game watches. This was not how he normally interacted with the man, and it obviously struck him as weird.
"You alright, Bob?" he asks hesitantly.
"Right as rain, neighbor!" Jimmy answers with a tone that's too goofy to pass as my dad's, "If that's how you're staring at me now, I wonder what'll happen if I take this robe off..."
Before Mr. Jones can process the flirtation in your father's voice, you shuffle your dad further down the street and away from the whole interaction. That may have been hilarious, but Jimmy was going to destroy any reputation and respect your father had around here!
You demand to know where Jimmy is going with this body. It's not like you have any ability to even slow the ghost down when he's got the weight and strength of your 200 lb father.
"I'm thinking the park. Your dad could use some cardio," he smirks, an unfamiliar expression on the grown man's face, "Or maybe the public bathroom on the north end. You know, it has that hole in the stall..."
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No amount of reasoning or arguments can change Jimmy's mind. Apparently he's set on wearing your father to the city's most notorious gay hookup spot.
"Don't look at me like that," his gravelly voice sounds amused by your frustration, "With me in charge, your dad will be the dirtiest slut that bathroom's ever seen. Don't you think it'll be funny to see such a massive, manly bear serving man after man in there?"
You sigh in disbelief.
"Or...maybe I don't have to rent out your dad's body to a bunch of strangers..."
You wonder where he's going with this. It sounds like an ultimatum is coming, and you don't like the idea of your crazy dead friend giving you an ultimatum.
"...your dad could hold off on bottoming for strangers...if...you let him be your submissive little bitch."
The choice is an annoying one, but you're pretty sure you can't let your dad have unprotected sex with strangers in a public place. This is what he'd want right?
"That's what I thought," the grin on your father's face twists maniacally. He tussles your hair like he's the proudest dad in the world, "Let's head on back home, buddy. Daddy's gonna lick every inch of sweat off that body of yours. He's got years of emotional absence to make up for."
One of his beefy arms cradles your back and turns you around. You're relieved to no longer be headed towards the public bathroom, but you're still a little nervous about what awaits you at home. How does Jimmy expect you to enjoy any of this when it's your dad doing all these things to you?
"Daddy's gonna treat you to a night that's all about you," he goes on, "Cooking you dinner, rubbing your feet, cuddling on the couch, and so much more. I want you to think of some humiliating things daddy can do for you while we walk back. Make sure they're extra degrading or your dad will just have to step out of the house and degrade himself where the entire city can see..."
The last comment gives you butterflies in your stomach, but it also gives you a bit of a hard-on. Maybe Jimmy playing with your dad wasn't so scary of an idea after all. With him possessed, anything was on the table: personal affirmations, some much needed bonding, roleplay, revenge, humiliation. Heck, you could even give your father a golden shower and Jimmy would have him smiling through it!
Walking home, you steal glances at your dad, towering over you as his rotund gut leads the way. Home can't come fast enough!
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