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#did he visit his family in the country in the summer and come back to school super tan...what normal childhood things did he do
ravenslvt · 27 days
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why does your best friend's older brother have to be so hot?? :(((
☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.1) ☆
cw: smuut! p in v, v fingering, fluffy, lowk sweet, implied virgin reader, unprotected sex.
pt. 2 pt.3 pt.4
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you sigh at the empty water bottle on the nightstand. you look over at your best friend, ami. she was fast asleep. you smiled, glad you were able to visit her on your break from university. you were grateful her parents let you stay over while they were out of the country for some sort of work meeting.
back to the important matter, your thirst. you slowly get up, trying not to wake your dark haired bestfriend. grabbing the tin water bottle and tiptoeing downstairs, making sure to close the door to her bedroom quietly on the way out.
you walk through the familiar halls of the house you’ve known since you were young. all the lights were off except the kitchen light.
walking in, you notice your bestfriend’s hot ass older brother, rintarou, leaning against the kitchen island on his phone. he was wearing his usual loose sweatpants, and a tight fitting t-shirt from your old highschool. it used to be loose on him, it was clear he’s been working out more and gained more muscle. his head perks up, he pauses whatever he was watching and speaks.
“hey, didn’t think anyone was still awake.” his voice is low and a little hushed.
you don’t notice the way his eyes go to your attire, small little sleep shorts and a tank top.
you notice he’s heating something up in the microwave as you reach the fridge, unscrewing the cap to your water bottle to refill it. you watch as the bottle slowly fills, talking to him.
“ami fell asleep and i was thirsty. she always passes out so fast” you softly chuckle. she was always the first to fall asleep at sleepovers, even in your childhood. girl was a deep sleeper.
“mmm” he simply hums, returning back to looking at his phone.
you turn back to face him, taking a refreshing sip of water.
“whatcha watchin?” you lean on your elbows against the counter, peering over at him.
your relationship with suna rintarou was…. friendly to say the least. he was only a year older than you and ami, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a (fat) crush on him since middle school.
you remembered the exact moment your crush on him had started. you and ami were twelve and rintarou was thirteen. you were at the suna’s family beach house for summer break.
you and ami relaxed in the sun, reading your assigned reading books together and laughing over how dumb you guys thought the plot was.
“seriously, this guy is so lame. he just mopes around and smokes cigarettes all day. dude’s gonna have lung problems” ami rolled her eyes at a certain line of the book.
you giggled and opened your mouth to say something to agree. until a volleyball came flying at you full speed. your eyes widened and you just froze. you two were aware rintarou and some of his friends were playing a game of beach volleyball a few feet away.
you flinched and put your arms up quickly in defense, but never felt impact. you look up to see a teenage rintarou who dived to grab the ball before it hit you.
“you good?” he called your name to get your attention. you just nodded, hiding the flushed state of you face with your book. he made a comment on how he read it in english class last year and if you needed any help on the work, he had your back.
“go away, rin. she doesn’t need your c- average help” his sister retorted as he walked back to his friends. he turned his head to give a small chuckle. you never forgot his smile since then.
back in the present, he takes his eyes off his video for a moment to look back at you.
“my game replays. hey, come watch this and tell me if you think furuhashi fucked us over with this serve” he did a ‘come here’ motion. you were at his side within a moment.
you peered at the phone screen over his shoulder. his phone looked so small compared to his large hands. he replayed the video for you to watch. you focused on the teamate he pointed to and it looked like he did a purposefully bad set, aiming right at the opponents head.
“ouch. seemed like he had personal beef with number eight….” your face scrunched in the way the opponent immediently fell to the floor from such a powerful blow.
“yeah, dude let his emotions get the best of him and got the rest of us in trouble with the ref for it” he shuts his phone off, sighing.
“you have another game next week, right? ami wanted me to go check you guys out.” you grab your bottle from the counter.
taking another sip of water, a small droplet spills past your mouth, down your neck, and disapears into the curve of your breasts. you notice the way his eyes follow the bead of water.
his eyes meet yours. and before he can open his mouth, the microwave beeps loudly. he quickly gets up to take the food out with a quick curse, hoping the obnoxious beeping didn’t wake anyone up.
he takes the steaming plate out of the appliance. you notice he heated up some cold pizza you guys ordered earlier in the night.
your eyes go back to his broad shoulders and arms, down to his large veiny hands. he’d matured a lot more since you’d seen him last.
you caught yourself staring, starting to feel a little awkward. you suddenly start to get a little hot, despite what little clothes you wore. you step away to leave the kitchen. your thoughts ran rampet of his hands. you pictured them touching your hair, your arms, your-
“where are you going?” his eyes are only on you now, his arms leaning against the counter to look at you.
“i- um should probably get back to ami” you gulp.
“why? isn’t she asleep? come hangout with your real favorite suna” he smirks, taking a peice of the hot pizza into his mouth.
you roll your eyes and fake scoff.
“don’t let your sister hear you say that, she might believe it” you cross your arms, eyeing him.
he swallowed, wiping his mouth with a napkin and smiling.
“i mean, it’s the truth. isn’t it?” god he was so cocky today. but you loved it.
“and what makes you think that, rin?” you played along. you step a little closer, this time you lean your elbows on the counter facing him. accidentally giving him a front row view of your cleavage through your thin top.
you see the way his eyes drop to your tits. oh you had him.
“cause, you think i’m cuter” his eyes flicker back to your own. he shrugs casually, a smug smirk on his face. his food now forgotten in his mind. only thing he wanted now was you.
“sure, whatever you want to think.” you sarcastically remark back.
he laughs, circling the kitchen island so now you had nothing between you except about a foot of space.
“oh i don’t have to think it, pretty. i know it” shit, he was getting closer and your heart was only beating faster.
“you’re delusional, rintarou.” you aren’t laughing anymore, smile fading to a more serious demeanor. you were nervous and he could tell.
he smiles, running a calloused finger down your arm. it left a trail of fire down your skin and your breath hitched.
“is that why you’re always staring at me. you think i don’t notice?” his voice is lower now, quieter.
fuck. he knew.
“as if you don’t oogle at me whenever i’m in a swimsuit.” you refuse to look away from his gaze.
he lets out a small chuckle. it was hypnotizing.
“i ‘oogle’ you no matter what you wear” he admits, almost proudly.
you eyes widen for a moment. you try your best to hold it together. his hand played with the ends of your hair. you two had never stood this close before.
you felt the flimsy fabric of your panties start to dampen.
“what’s got you all quiet?” his hand moves from your soft locks to hold your chin, forcing you to look right at him.
“screw you, rin” you retort, flustered. he snorts.
“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” his face only got closer to yours.
you guys were so close, you had forgotten you weren’t the only two in the house.
“in your dreams-“ you start.
“knock that shit off. admit you want this as bad as i do” he says your name. your faces were now inches apart. his eyebrows furrowed and he just looked so attractive. he was studying your expressions, his eyes never leaving your face.
“rin i-“ you start again. this time his lips hover over yours, ghosting over your own.
“tell me to stop and i’ll go back up to my room and we will never speak of this again.” his hand moves to cup your cheek, his forhead resting on your, giving you a chance to pull away.
but you didn’t want to pull away and he didn’t either.
finally, after what seemed like years of tension, you snapped. going up on your tipy toes to crash your lips on his.
his hands immediately draw to your waist, holding you as close as possible while your hands wrap in his soft dark brown locks.
years of unresolved feelings and tension all poured into one heated kiss.
his hands gripping your waist moves down to your hips, he turns you so your rear is against the counter. how convinient his hips are the perfect height for the kitchen island.
you let out a soft gasp as he bites your bottom lip, he smirks and gently prods his tounge into your mouth, seeking permission first. you lean your head back to let him kiss you deeper.
he was fully addicted to your lips.
he pats your hip and you take it as a sign to hop on the marble counter, he helps you jump up. he slots himself inbetween your thighs, your lips never pulling apart.
“fuck. i can’t believe i haven’t tasted you sooner” he says in between kisses. you giggle at the way he refuses to pull apart from you.
he just grips your waist tighter, his cold hands slipping under the fabric of your tank top. you gasp as he reaches for your bare tits, lifting the fabric to rest above your breasts. you never wore a bra around him. and of course he always noticed.
he gave your perky tits a firm squeeze, you mewl into his mouth as he gently pinches your hardened nipples. his cold fingers adding an extra chill.
rintarou’s hips press gently into yours. you could feel his erection through his pants. you grip his hair tighter at the feeling of his clothed member rubbing against your clothed clit.
you unlatch a hand from his hair and bring it straight to his hardness. he hisses as you rub him through the pants. he could feel a small wet patch forming in his boxers.
“shit, take these off” he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your sleep shorts, you lift you hips for him to shimmy them down your legs, you didn’t even notice where he put them. you didn’t really care.
you were left in your little lace panties. he gave a lopsided smile at how prepared you were. it was like you knew he was gonna fuck you tonight. or maybe you wore these all the time around him, just waiting.
“this wet already?” he sucks in a breath, running a finger over the growing wet patch on your panties. you just nod and focus your gaze on his long fingers. you wanted them so bad.
“rin, please” you grab at his hand that was teasingly brushing over your clothed clit.
“stop teasing” you pout at him. he looks up at you and gives you another kiss.
“you’re too cute not to tease.” he pulls away and pulls your underwear to the side, spreading your legs more. he curses at the sight of your glistening pussy, knowing it was all for him.
he runs a long finger down your folds, causing your grip on his wrist to tighten.
“so worked up, aren’t you? no one ever touch you like this before?” he asks, continuing his motions up and down.
“n-no rin, just you.” you breathily admit, a bit emberassed. it was the truth though, he was the only one you really wanted over the years.
he lets out another curse at the thought of being the first guy to touch you in this way. he was straining against his boxers, his loose sweatpants suddenly feeling so tight on his hips.
“tell me if it hurts and i’ll stop, okay?” he looks you in the eye, serious. you just nod.
“wanna hear you say it, baby” he pulls his hand away from your cunt.
“yes rin, i swear” you assure, shimmying to the edge of the counter to be closer to him.
he smiles, giving you a peck on the forehead before prodding his middle finger into your tight hole, spreading your wetness to make sure you were ready.
he slowly enters you and you grip onto his shoulders for dear life. he gives a few slow experimental pumps of his finger before you were asking for more.
“this ok?” he whispers in you ear, kissing your neck.
“god yes. more please” you plead in a quiet tone, trying your best to keep silent.
he chuckles and adds his ring finger. just two was enough to stretch you out. it was a delicious pain of his large digits splitting you open. you couldn’t even imagine how good his cock would feel.
you bite your knuckles to muffle the sounds of pleasure you were making. but nothing could cover the wet noises coming from him finger fucking your pussy.
his wrist started to ache, but it was worth it to see the way you were taking it so well. he curled his fingers, doing a ‘come here’ motion inside of you. you let out a muffled curse as your legs started to shake.
he kept pumping and curling his fingers over and over. his long thick fingers reached places your little hands just couldn’t.
“i think i’m-“ you cut yourself off with a soft moan, still trying to be quiet.
he just kisses you through your orgasm, groaning into your own mouth. your pussy squeezes around his fingers and he swallows up all your noises. he imagines how you’d feel squeezing his cock like this, while his other hand groping your tit, pinching your nipple. you arch into him and pull away from his lips to breathe.
you pant and look at him, face completley flushed, he slowly removes his fingers. his hand was coated in your cum. he gives your chest a few small kisses, accidentally leaving faint marks on the skin. not an accident at all.
he was panting too. you looked at him, curiously. your eyes go down to his pants. there was an obvious wet stain in the front.
“did you….” your eyes go wide as he flushes with emberassment.
“m’sorry you were just so fucking hot i couldn’t-“ he starts, but you cut him off with your lips. you were immediately aroused again, but this time the only thing that could satisfy you was his cock.
you paw at his sweats, shaky fingers clumsily trying to untie the drawstring. he grips the back of your neck with one hand while the other helps take off his pants. he starts to stroke himself until he’s hard again, still recovering from blowing his load in his pants.
you swat his hand and give his cock long strokes. you finally get a good view of it. he wasn’t small by any means, but not obnoxiously large. it was a delicious size that made your mouth go dry. there was a certain blue vein that ran down from his tip, your finger running over it, making him hiss.
he noticed you staring and encourages you to continue, his thumbs rubbing your thighs in comfort.
you swipe your thumb over his slit making him shiver like a small dog. his tip was so sensitive. you move to try and hop off the counter to get on your knees, but he stopped you, gripping your hips.
“if you do that i won’t be able to last.” he pets your hip sensually. you pout.
“don’t give me that look. next time, i promise” he pecks your lips and your heart flutters. so there will be a next time.
his head rests on your shoulder as you continue to stroke up, switching from pumping it to teasing his tip. he stopped you once his hips started to sputter. he was like putty in your hands at this point.
“p-please” he says your name, panting.
“i need to be inside you. i need to feel you so bad, baby please” he begs, kissing your neck, leaving darker marks in his wake.
you whine at his words, using your legs to wrap around his hips, his cock sitting right above your needy cunt.
“fuck me already, rin” you give his cock a few more pumps before lining him up with your wanting hole.
he does as yous say, slowly pushing in, his mouth gaping wide and his head falls back once he’s fully inside of you.
now your head rests on his chest as you encourage him to move. he slowly pulls out then back in with a powerful thrust. you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out. surley leaving a mark.
“ohmygod rin” you can’t help but chant out his name as his thrusts quicken. you were praying ami was still asleep or she would totally hear the sounds of his hips slapping into yours.
“shh. gotta be quiet, kay? don’t want your friend to hear you getting fucked by her big brother do you?” he clasped a hand over your mouth, you unconsciously squeezed him tighter. your eyes screwed shut tight.
“fuck. you’d probably like that wouldn’t you? want everyone to see how badly you want my dick?” he groans in a hushed tone, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper. he was loosing control.
he gripped onto your hips to stabilize his pace. you guys never broke eye contact as your mouth hung open silently, trying so hard to keep quiet. he smiles at how fucked out you already looked.
“rinnn” you whine.
“m’right here, pretty” he kisses you once again. one of your hands takes purchase in his (now) messy hair, the other one gripping onto his strong arm. you were sure you were clawing into him with your nails, but he didn’t seem to mind.
you were getting close already. he moaned into your mouth as you tightened around his cock. he fed you simple praises from his pretty mouth, encouraging you to cum.
your thighs tightened around his hips, wanting him to be even closer, if that was even possible.
“i got you, baby. let go” he whispers inbetween kisses.
he bites your lip as you cum on his cock, squeezing him in every possible way. you whine into his mouth, the kiss now turned so messy a bit of drool fell from your mouth.
he fucked you through your orgasm as you shake in his hold, he was holding back his own until you were satisfied. you started to mewl from the overstimulation of his veiny cock pounding into you.
he pulls out, pumping himself until he finishes on your thigh, letting out a hushed moan of your name from his lips, making you squeeze around nothing. both of you breathing heavily.
after you both cool down from your highs, he looks at you, full of admiration.
“you did amazing” he kisses your cheek.
once your mind fog clears, the realization hits you. you just fucked your childhood crush, your bestfriends brother. a part of you feels a little guilty, but the other part of you wants nothing more than to do it again.
he notices your hesitation, placing a gentle hand on your hair so soothe it down.
“hey, you okay?” he asks. you didn’t even notice when he had pulled his pants back up, or when he put your top back in place over your tits.
you give him a soft smile.
“i’m okay” you assure him.
“good” he smiles back, he grabs a nearby kitchen cloth and wipes off his spend from your thigh.
“gross, rin. people use that towel” you scold.
he just shrugs “i’ll throw it in the wash”
you both knew in your heads you couldn’t tell anyone about this.
it was your little secret.
suddenly, rintarou’s phone lights up from across the counter. he puts your panties back in place, grabbing your sleep shorts and putting your legs through them so you could put them back on. he snatches his phone for you both to see.
‘WEATHER WARNING: all schools in the area shut down for another two weeks’ the notification read.
your eyes widen. looks like you’d be staying at the suna’s house for a lot longer than you thought.
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the next morning
“ouch, looks like your girl maimed you” ami laughs over her waffles. you sit next to her, pouring the syrup over your own. rin almost chokes on his food and your head snaps up.
“what?” he says with a mouthful of bacon. ami points to the scratches on his arm and the literal bite mark on his shoulder. your eyes go wide. you made sure to wear a hoodie to cover your own marks.
“aww rin hooked up with a wolf!” you add, trying not to raise suspicion. he squints his eyes at you, swallowing his food.
at least he had the decency to wipe down the counter before we ate.
“something like that” you eye eachother before turning back to your breakfast.
this was gonna be a long stay.
masterlist
a/n: i kinda wanna make this a mini series lollll lmk of you’d like a pt.2 (this is highkey ooc but idc!!! its fanfiction!!!! i love my fake man fr)
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glossgojo · 1 year
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he looks like he works with his hands (part 1/2)
pre-outbreak!joel miller x reader | 4.6k words
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, AFAB reader, , age gap, ex-babysitter reader, oral fem-receiving, pussy drunk joel, manhandling, abusive ex-boyfriend, some violence, protective joel, panic attack, anxiety
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a/n: alright listen up, i seem to have a thing for joel giving y/n head first and then getting his fill, that being said expect a very detailed part two :) this first part is mostly plot and some smut, i plan on making this a two parter but it might be longer
“jesus christ almighty” joel muttered under his breath taking in your frame from where he stood leaned against his truck. he knew you were coming to visit, sarah had screamed when you called and nearly given him a heart attack. you were back in austin for grad school, the sweet girl you were you visited sarah as soon as you moved in. you had babysat sarah the summer after you graduated high school and one summer of freshman year, but then your parents moved near your out-of-state college and you never came back. and now you here you were torturing every breath exhaling out of joel’s lungs.
you were dawned in a denim mini skirt and a tight short-sleeved top that fell a bit short of the suggestion of fabric. your midriff was exposed slightly, showing off your honey smooth skin and your legs on display. it would’ve been completely suited for the scorching texas heat, but joel felt his head swim as the clothes clung to your curves and your face lit up after recognizing him.
“joel! you haven’t changed a bit!” your cheeks flushed as you bounded your way up the driveway. joel had to clench his teeth to stop from looking at the bounce that wasn’t just in your step.
“that a good thing I hope? you look well kid.” joel didn’t know why he added that last part, maybe it was a silent reminder to himself that the last time he’d seen you you were just a kid, and whatever he was feeling had to go. he didn’t notice the way your expression dropped a little at the word, you quickly disguised it with a teasing smile.
“thanks and yeah don’t worry sarah keeps you young, well as young as you could be.” you nudged him, moving towards the front door as he huffed out a laugh and you hated the butterflies that followed. you’d been a little bit in love with the man ever since that summer. god you had missed his voice, rough and deep and somehow still filled with all the confidence you wish you had. joel watched you walk to the front door like you were visiting a friend’s place and he had to admit he liked the notion.
joel followed you close behind as he picked out his belongings from his truck. sarah ran down the stairs and you laughed a little bit as she jumped into your arms. joel had to laugh at the theatrics, if he had known better it looked like you were visiting between deployments. “you’re so pretty, how did you get prettier?” sarah rushed out, excited and barely breathing as she spoke. joel couldn’t help but smile when his sweet daughter looked so excited.
“well, i don’t know about all that. i was gonna say the same to you, you grew up into a beautiful young lady. my little sarah’s all grown up.” you brushed a piece of her hair back, just like you remembered she liked it. joel felt his heart warm a little at that, even if it had been years since he’d seen you, you still cared for sarah just as much and that mattered to him. maybe you weren’t the stranger he thought you were. you and sarah caught up in the living room, joel sat and listened interjecting every now and then with questions of his own. you liked the feeling of being with them. you were across the country from your family now, so this semblance of family was all you could cling to. you blushed at the thought that made you could raise sarah like a daughter.
joel had trouble focusing when you shifted in your seat, your mini skirt not doing well to hide the maddening baby pink panties you had on. he was sure he was red, but he could explain that away by heat or a tan if he needed to. you weren’t any better, losing your focus when you saw him cross his muscular arms.
“do you wanna stay for dinner?” sarah asked and your face pouted a little as you braced yourself to disappoint the girl. her big brown eyes clung onto every word you said when you spoke next.
“i really would love to and thank you so much for the offer sarah-bear, but my highschool friends roped me into drinks with them at 9.”
“have dinner first, you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.” he said it like it was a command less than a question, his voice gruff and your mouth dried up as you nodded obediently.
joel had asked tommy to pick up food on his way over, you hadn’t realized that since it was friday night you would be interrupting their family night. when you asked joel if it was fine for you to stay he leveled you with a pointed look, “don’t be ridiculous doll.” and you shut well up at that. doll. it wasn’t quite what you needed but it wasn’t kid. doll you could work with. doll would creep its way into your dreams and the hours before sleep when your core burned from need, from a hunger for him.
with that you sat down and chatted with tommy and he was just the same, hotheaded but kindhearted over everything. he spoke it like he saw it and tommy got kicked in shin by his dear big brother when he took one look at you and said “dam-“ you couldn’t even hide your expression in time, making joel snicker.
dinner felt normal, as if you hadn’t stepped through the door after 4 years. tommy had gone through some girlfriends while joel had remained single. you would hold onto that fact like the last hope for your sanity. sarah was in middle school now, she had troubles of her own. you listened to her gossip like it was your own, interjecting with your own advice, and joel couldn’t understand how you were so enraptured by it. maybe there were some things he just couldn’t help sarah with.
after what felt like far too short of a dinner, you had to make your way to the pub. you helped clean up with joel while tommy and sarah sat in the living room.
“do you need a ride?” you rotated the thought in your mind, you being stuck with joel in a small space. you’d rather not, after all your roommate promised that you had a ride home.
“i was just gonna drive over and my friend is picking us all up after.”
“alright take my number just in case.” you flushed at his words, he kept demanding you do this and that and because you were fucking gone for him you listened. it was his voice you told yourself, not his heady musk or his big brown eyes staring you down. you let him write his number down on a piece of paper and you nodded with a meek thanks as you took it from him. his hand brushed against yours it was so much larger than yours, they had calluses and scrapes on them. you had always admired joel for his work, and his hands showed exactly how hard he worked for his daughter. you’d thought about his hands more often than you’d admit over the years.
you gathered your belongings from where they were strewn about over the couch, joel had to hold back a groan as you bent over a little too much for his sanity. you said goodbye to tommy and hugged sarah telling her you’d be over more often since she wasn’t far now. joel considered asking you to babysit again but he didn’t want to detract from your studies. if you offered he wouldn’t turn it down. sarah was adamant she didn’t need one but he’d rather you look after her than his well-intentioned bible-thumping neighbors.
joel felt like he’d already crossed the line of friendly employer or even anything you two had before so he had to stop himself from insisting you take one of his jackets to wear out. it wouldn’t get cold but you’d be drunk and probably chillier than you realized, not to mention a small part of him wanted you to cover up when you went out. joel very pointedly ignored that incessant primitive part of his mind.
he did however watch until you got into the car and drove away, as if something would happen to you between the short walk over. your heart was beating as you left the miller’s house. you would have to shake joel’s scent and gruff voice out of your senses, you could feel them seeping into your bones making your head dizzy.
you needed to drink.
catching up with your high school friends was the distraction you needed. you had been in contact with them through the years but there was nothing close to being in front of them. hours ebbed and flowed as you drank and chatted. you felt a buzz but you weren’t drunk, your lips were loose as you told them how your high school crush had returned with more force than ever.
the drinks weren’t enough to dissuade the panic that dripped down from your head as your eyes landed on a familiar figure entering the bar. your ex-boyfriend had just walked in and your body went into flight or fight. your friends noticed your gaze and groaned as they took in your issue. your friend was speaking, their words far away and faded, only when they shook your arm did you hear them, “y/n are you okay, we can leave?” you didn’t want your friends to end their reunion because of you, if he approached you, you would just leave by yourself.
“i’m fine, hopefully he doesn’t recognize me.” you doubted it very much, he had tormented you for two years and took any chance to continue after you broke up. despite your anxiety being spiked you managed to make conversation with your friends, speaking quietly so as to not bring attention to yourself. it all became too much when you flinched when he looked in your direction. you were feeling more anxious than ever, excusing yourself to the bathroom to collect yourself.
as you walked away you broke into a run, scared that he would see you and follow you. instead of feeling better you felt anxiety wrack your body as you practically slammed into the bathroom. all your memories of your relationship flooded into your mind as you entered a stall and felt your breathing stop and your head rush as your vision blurred. you were having a panic attack and your heart was beating irregularly, were you dying? oh god, your hands shook as you pulled out the piece of paper joel had handed you earlier and your cell phone and typed in the number without thinking. it was now 11:30pm, joel was probably asleep. you couldn’t stop yourself as your shaking fingers pressed call
two dials later and the call connected, “joel i’m sorry for bothering you but could you pick me up.” you rushed out, your breathing labored as you struggled to calm yourself down.
“hey sweetheart, calm down, where are you? i’m coming over.” you felt tears prick your eyes as you tried to listen to his soothing cadence and his assured words. sweetheart. you were joel miller’s sweetheart, you could get through this.
“i-i’m at Donn’s, my ex is here im in the bathroom right now.” your voice sounded weak, you sounded like a scared little kid and it made you cringe, meanwhile joel was feeling anger rise at your statement. he had remembered how awful the kid was, he’d kept his thoughts to himself but when you eventually broke up everyone was happy about it. he was already out the door when you spoke, now he’d be speeding.
“i’m on the way, stay on the phone, what did you have to drink?” you wiped your stray tears as you felt your anxiety subside, joel’s voice and the distance you had put between your ex and yourself, grounding you. you babbled to joel, every now and then he’d throw in a follow-up question or a hum of acknowledgment, it all felt so normal you ached to talk to him like this more often. joel was calming you down, keeping you distracted, he was the only thing keeping you from another panic attack and you almost sobbed at that over the phone.
“hey joel?”
“yeah doll?” a shiver traveled down your spine at the pet name. you were so gone for him.
“thank you for this, i owe you.”
“you don’t owe me anything, i’d do it again.” you don’t know if that was joel’s southern hospitality or if he really meant it, either way you’d let that statement soothe you.
“i’m almost there, just pulling into the parking lot, take your time coming out alright, i’ll meet you inside?” you could hear him pulling into the parking lot rather quickly, you exhaled slowly as you told him you were coming and exited the stall. you quickly made your way to your friends, telling them you weren’t feeling well and that you would be heading home early. you told them that joel was picking you and you would’ve laughed at their reaction if not for the anxiety crawling back up your spine.
you waved them goodbye moving towards the door when your vision was blocked, you looked up to meet the eyes of your ex. your stomach dropped as your mouth went dry and you opened to speak, to try and get away but you were frozen in place. “hey babe, you miss me?”
“i’m not your babe.” you gritted out, trying to move past him when he raised an arm across your middle and you felt like throwing up.
“come on you’re still mad? i was just a kid.” anger bubbled up in your throat and your eyes stinged from frustration.
“get away from me.” you hated his touch, you wanted to scrub your body and push away the memories it brought back.
“such a fucking bitch, you still think you’re too good for me huh? you’re still as busted and arrogant as ever.” your vision was blurring and you couldn’t breathe, you looked down to your feet wishing that you could be anywhere but here.
“y/n.” joel’s voice brought you back to reality, you looked up, looking over your ex’s shoulder to see joel. he took one look at your watery eyes and crushed expression and saw red. your ex turned to meet joel’s glare.
“who the fuck is this?” you didn’t speak, your voice was caught in your throat but you took his distraction as a chance to move away. you quickly moved around him, standing next to joel as your ex turned towards both of you.
“let’s go.” joel ignored him, looking at you and trying not to break the fucker’s jaw. you could see joel was seething, his chest rising and falling and his brows furrowed in anger. you’d never seen him so upset, and you knew it wasn’t pointed at you because his eyes softened when they met yours.
“hold on pal i’m talking to you, you fucking her? she’s a slut don’t waste your time.” your ex put a hand on joel’s shoulder, trying to charm him and joel took one look at the guy before landing his fist square in his jaw. your ex dropped in a blink of your eye and you gasped as joel ground out a threat.
“don’t talk to her ever again, you hear?” your ex nodded furiously from where he lay on the ground, rushing out a yes in between a string of curses. you let joel pull you away, your ex crying out and wailing in pain as you left. you couldn’t think as you followed joel, his hand on yours. it enclosed yours fully, rough and warm around your hand and you let it distract you.
joel miller had just punched your ex and rescued you, you couldn’t think straight blinded by one thought and one thought only. you just wanted to-your hands found his face as you stopped in front of the passenger door, you moved quickly as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. joel’s expression changed from anger to confusion and then something else you couldn’t place in the streetlight lit parking lot. and then you felt panic as he didn’t look particularly happy with your actions.
“i’m sorry we can forget-“ you leaned against the closed door, removing your hands and creating some distance for him.
“no darlin’ don’t apologize, just wondering if you’ll remember this tomorrow.” joel could taste whiskey on your lips, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he took advantage of you being drunk.
“joel, i’ve never felt more sober.”
“good.” he took the hand that had been holding yours, the one that didn’t touch your ex and tilted your chin up, and your eyes met his. they were looked like honey and you wanted to swim in them. joel leaned his head, brushing his lips against yours and you could feel his facial hair scrape against your soft skin. it lit a fire within you. your arms came up around his neck, his hand moving to the small of your back, deliciously pulling you closer and you gasped into his mouth. joel tasted like heaven, just his breath alone was making you dizzy as you let him explore your mouth and make your lips mold to his. despite his intimidating exterior, joel kissed you like you were the only person on earth, taking his time to draw gasps from you and when his mouth moved off yours to dip under your jaw you lost your mind. your hands came up to press his head into the space between your head and your chest, as he littered your skins with kisses and nips. you whined out his name, your legs shaking as you raked your hands through his hair, probably leaving it as a mess. you opened your eyes to take him in, his lips puffy and his hair a mess, his breathing was as hard as yours and his big brown eyes had darkened.
“joel, please.” your hands were still in his hair, as you whispered into the fraction between your lips between sloppy kisses.
“please what doll?” did you have to say it? joel could read your mind, your thoughts written on your face from your cloudy eyes to your parted puffy lips. you looked wrecked and all he had done was kiss you. joel didn’t think he could hold back much longer, but he wanted you to be sure. you shivered as he leaned back, his warmth leaving you and his piercing gaze making you squirm. you managed to cough up the courage to speak next.
“come back to my place, my roommate is at her boyfriend’s place.” joel’s eyes flashed with desire, his hand shooting out to your hip, grazing the exposed patch of skin above your skirt and opening the passenger door. you shivered against at the feel of his hand against you, god you were pathetic but at least you could blame it on the slight chill of the night.
“get in.” you didn’t think twice as you turned to get in, joel holding the door open for you and feeling his sanity crumble when your damn skirt hiked up again. when joel got into the car you began to take in everything that happened.
“is your hand okay?” he’d been carefully keeping it away from you and when he was driving. it didn’t look broken under the city lights but you could bet it hurt.
“yeah it’s fine don’t worry.” he showed you to prove his point, besides some bruises on his knuckles, his hand did look fine.
“you, uhm thank you.” you couldn’t articulate just how much it all meant to you and you didn’t know how to start thanking him for every single thing he did. joel nodded at your words, not really thinking he needed to be thanked.
“if he ever comes near your again, or if anyone talks to you like that, you come to me alright?” you swallowed down, meeting his gaze at the red light. you felt heat travel south, the prospect of joel being there for you if anyone disrespected you made you clench your legs together. pressure building in your core, joel had to hold back a smirk as he watched you squirm in the seat.
“yeah i will.” your voice sounded breathy, your heart was beating so fast in your chest you wanted the car ride to be over so you could feel his lips against yours again. you needed him so badly your hands itched to find home in his hair again.
the rest of the car ride was silent, only interrupted by you giving him directions to get to your apartment.
you made your way to the apartment with joel following you closely behind, his eyes not moving from the view of your curves. you unlocked your door, throwing your pursed on your couch and turning towards joel, he took in your place. there were unopened boxes strewn about and minimal furtiniture but the place was plenty big for two students.
“can i get you something to drink?” you stood against the back of your sofa, looking at joel when he met your gaze. his stepped towards you, hands finding purchase on your hips, his thumbs grazed your skin and you felt dizzy looking into his eyes.
“just you.” confusion flashed on your face replaced quickly by awe as joel sank to his knees in front of you, looking up at you for any sign of disapproval. you nod, in a daze, joel presses kisses up your legs as you lean back on the sofa for support, your legs feeling weak at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. you couldn’t believe this was happening.
joel’s face was at the height of your pussy, his hands on your hips to pull down your skirt, and you whined at the feeling of his hands on you, moving you to his will. you'd fantasized about the rough pads of his fingers against your clit, scraping against you relentlessly until you unfolded for him. joel pulled them down in one swift motion and was met with the sight of your infuriating hot pink panties. “fucking hell these have been torturing me all day.” you found your voice moments later as you processed what he said.
“you like them?” his fingers traced the edges so gently, punctuating your sentence with a snap of the waistband against your hip, you gaspedz
“like isn’t the word i’d use but they definitely made an impact,”
“i wore them for you.” you were barely processing your thoughts before they were spilling out of your mouth.
“yeah? you’re flattering me sweetheart.” joel’s fingers ghosted over your pussy making you twitch under his barely there touch.
“no i mean it, i’ve wanted you ever since i’ve known you.” you were leaning into his touch, preening at the small contact, joel’s lips twitched at your desperation.
“god amn’t i too old for you?,” joel wanted so badly not to think that what he was doing was wrong, but when you looked at him like that he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. you should’ve been with someone your own age.
“joel please, you're the hottest man i’ve ever known.”
“such a sweet talker baby, that’ll get you places.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he kissed your clit over your underwear, you clenched on air when he called you baby. if he didn’t touch you, you might just come in your underwear.
“i hope s-so, oh god.” you whined out as he stuck his tongue out dampening the spot where your clit was, the pressure of his tongue on your clit even over the fabric made you moan. you felt like crying from his teasing, it was becoming too much for you. and joel sensed it as he pulled your underwear down on one swift moment, leaving you bare centimeters from his face.
“so pretty, angel.” you whined out, your hand coming down to intertwine in his brown curls, trying to ground yourself. joel tapped the inside of your knee, silently asking you to widen your stance while the other hand, the one he had just used to punch your ex clasped around the back of your other knee and lifted it over his left shoulder. you gasped at the spread, at the feeling of being so exposed for him but joel didn’t give you a chance to think too hard about it. his mouth pressed against your clit and you gasped at his mustache grazing your sensitive skin. on top of the maddening desire you had for him he was scratching against you, adding to your craze.
joel sucked on your clit, his tongue circling and stroking you until you cried out his name, he wasn’t letting you off so easily as his mouth moved south. his tongue licked up your folds, his mouth collecting all the arousal that threatened to drip for you. as if he was a dehydrated and starved man, joel moved impossibly closer pushing you against the back of the couch until it dug into your back and drank you in like it was all he had. his tongue lapping you up and delving into you for more, you kept giving him more and more and joel didn’t think he could ever have enough. you tasted so damn good, he’d remember your taste for days, for years, he’d let it haunt him as long as he could. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when joel decided it wasn’t enough, his other hand coming to raise your other leg onto your shoulder, his head now crushed between your thighs. your arms shook as you kept yourself hoisted up on the back of your couch. joel didn’t care, he wanted to drown on your ichor, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could continue tasting you. the desperation in his actions and his relentless mouth on you made you cum, your arms burned as they held you up and you tried not to squeeze joel between your thighs but you couldn’t help it. joel removed one of your thighs from his shoulder, watching you shake from the overstimulation as he lapped up your come.
“you taste like heaven darlin’” you couldn’t form a sentence you only whined out his name as you took in his slickness jaw and glistening facial hair. you were all over his face and you felt like crying. you removed your other leg and tugged at his shoulder for him to stand, joel used the back of the sofa to help him stand, crowding you against it. you looked at him desperately, you didn’t want this to end, you could feel his hard-on press against you. but you couldn’t think. joel was looking at you like you were god’s single most beautiful creation.
“are you gonna let me fuck you pretty girl?” his drawl made his words come out slurred as he whispered them in the space you shared between your mouths, he sounded drunk and you could smell your cum on his breath. you nodded furiously, your eyes wide and joel felt like you were the most willing prey and he was a predator. he couldn’t find it in himself to care, lifting you by the back of your knees and letting you point him to your bedroom.
NEXT PART ->
3K notes · View notes
grugruel · 4 months
Text
Bad News 1 |
Parts: 1/2, read part 2 HERE
Parings: dbf!bucky x f!reader
MDNI/NSFW
Masterlist
Inspired by, Call me by your name
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Summary: Your fathers best friend accompanies you and your family to your summer house in the country. Sparks ignite as you grow closer, secretly spending one-on-one time together at night.
Words: 3.7k
Warnings: plot with smut, secret-relationship, angst, choking, praise kink, petname (doll), oral sex (f recieving), pinv sex, fingering, creampie, c*ck warming.
AN: Ill make it into a series if yall like it, please enjoy!
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Baring Throats
I leaned onto the windowsill, one arm stretched into the cool night air, holding a half smoked ciagrette as I rested my head in the crook of the other. A song filled the empty night, small birds and morning doves serenaded me beautifully, the occasional cranes interuppting with their paired cries.
I took a puff, exhailing slowly as I admired the view overlooking the garden, the vast grass plains surronding the house and the tree line in the distance. It separated us from the forest, obscuring the lake behind it and hiding all things wild. I glanced down the long road leading up to the house, and found a man walking along it.
Bucky, heading back from another venture into town. Perhaps he had visited a lady friend, which he had a good number of, perhaps it wasnt any of my concern. It shouldnt bother me, yet, it did.
I found my mind drifting, painting a picture of him in a bed, sweaty and naked, laying next to another woman and a spark of jealousy flared up inside me. The sound of footsteps on a gravel path approached, bringing me back to the moment, I blinked the images away and rebuked myself.
Looking down to the ground, my eyes met his. Smiling, I greeted him amd leaned over the sill. Nothing on but a thin t-shirt and a pair of panties, goosebumps prickled my skin. He smiled back at me. We looked at eachother in silent understanding, our business remaining our own. Wordlessly we communicated, I took another drag of the cigarette and he gestured for me to give him one, I held my index finger up, indicating for him to wait a second as I grabbed the pack and lighter from my nightstand, in turn tossing them down to him. Graciously he caught them and lit up, I nodded my head inside, asking him to join me. He took a long drag of the cig, considering me carefully, but he shook his head. Smiling increadolously, he pointed at me as if saying, "youre bad news" then snuffed his cigarette and went inside.
I heard him walking up the stairs, toward my room, the footsteps stopping just outside my door. Please knock, I begged, he seemed to be considering it, but a moment passed and then another, and at last he left. Entering his own room instead, opposite mine.
This had been our routine for the past few weeks, both being night owls, we'd sometimes encounter eachother on the premises. Coming from our separete affairs, but never asking the other where they'd been. We'd share a snack, talk in hushed voices, hold in laughs and shush eachother when we inevitably were to loud. It became our little secret, not because we did anything innapropriate, but simply because it were a few moments that belonged to just the two of us. Talking about things we couldnt talk about with anyone else. It had been innocent at first, but at some point had that charming smile of his begun to make me blush, at some point had his touching become more tender and at some point did our night time talks stop being accidental, but rather sought out. Last night, we'd come dangerously close to kissing and I think alarm bells sounded for the both of us, which is why we kept our distance tonight.
Dissapointed I went to bed, falling asleep with unseemly images of my fathers best friend clouding my mind.
I slept late into the next day, the sound of heavy rain battering the roof roused me from my sleep. As I got ready to go about my day, I found a note slid under my door, my lighter was inside, along with a few written words "Smoking is bad, you know. I'd better finish them for you :)" Chuckling, I saved the note, tucking it into my nightstand. Wiseass.
Due to poor weather and lack of outdoor activities, the family + one was gathered in the livingroom. My parents on one sofa, dad holding an arm around my mom as they read from the same book, my brother in the armchair and Bucky on the other sofa, everyone reading a variety of something. They all looked up as I entered the room, feigning surprise that I had finally joined them.
'Good afternoon stranger.' my father chuckled. I kissed my mothers cheek in greeting, she smiled sweetly and squeezed my hand in response as I passed them.
'About time you graced us with your prescence' Bucky teased, making my brother and mother join in with the cheerful joking.
I smirked and shook my head, waving my hands dissmissively, 'Very funny, I blame the weather.' I said and gestured toward the sky, sitting down on the empty seat next to Bucky. I laid my legs in his lap and leaned back against the armrest, propping my head up on a pillow. A conversation was struck up, talking about what I had missed, discussing resent books and making plans for tomorrow, it seemed like we'd go to the beach. Ocasionally, Bucky would grab and squeeze my legs when talking, in the same way some people gestured to get their point across.
As the chill of the evening drew closer, we lit a fire in the hearth and grabbed blankets. But a shortage occured, so I had to move closer to Bucky, he laid an arm across my shoulder as I curled up intill him so one blanket would be enough for the both of us. We grabbed a few bottles of wine, dusted off the old board games and got down to business. A heated game of monopoly ensued, followed by a short dinner break, eventually resulting in very drunk charades. Bucky and I teamed up, two versus three and we won regardless. Were all very competitve people, safe to say that none of us went to bed feeling very sportsmanlike that night. As the evening wound down, so did our energy, the wine was taking its toll. My legs were tucked against Buckys chest as I leaned my head against his shoulder, he circled his arms around my legs and rested his chin on my knees. Lazily the five of us talked for a while longer, enjoying the pleasent atmosphere of the night while we were still contious to do so. Eventually though, as laughs turned into yawns, Bucky and I offered to stay behind and clean up while the other three departed. Tidying went by quickly, we made a good team. As I discarded the last of the dishes in the sink, he put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my forehead, trying to keep his focus on my eyes, 'Go to bed, doll. I got the rest.' He said, smiling sweetly, attempting to act sober and rubbed my shoulders tenderly.
I looked at him with hazy eyes, 'If you say so.' I answered, smiling lazily, then went upstairs. Between our rooms, there was a french balcony. It stood wide open, my parents had presumably opened it in a drunk hot-flash to let air in. I was headed for my room, but my mind drifted to the crisp, sublte wind calling my name. My feet changed direction by themselves, and magically I appeared in the opening.
Leaned against the doorframe, I fell half asleep, the rain had devolved into a drizzle, but the air was damp and pleasantly chilly against my skin. Involuntairy shivers took over my body, but I was to tired to move. I heard distant footsteps behind me, coming and going, and eventually coming back again. The steps approached and strong arms circled around my shoulders, a warm body pressing up against my back. He'd covered himself with a blanket, holding the ends in his hands and gift wrapped me into his embrace. I held onto his forearms, a smile kn my lips as I basked in his warmth.
He rested his head on my shoulder, 'You were gonna freeze.' He explained himself, whispering against my ear and sending a cold shiver through my spine. I leaned my head back against his chest, sighing happily as we stood silently, appreciating eachothers presence. I drunk his scent in as our breaths matched up, the birds singing for us once again.
'I want my cigs back.' I complained, drunkenly disturbing our peaceful moment.
Bucky chuckled, 'I dont want you to get cancer.' He protested, half-joking.
I turned around, alcohol causing the bounderies of a long friendship to blur. I placed my hands on his chest and met his eyes, looking at him through my lashes, making them as big and pretty as a puppys 'Please?' I asked kindly.
He looked at me with adoration in his gaze, removing the blanket from himself and covering my shoulders with it. A smirk curved his lips as he looked at me, shaking his head in defeat. Wordslessly his manmersism spoke for him, 'Youre bad news." they told me, and this it would get the better of him. He grabbed my hand and led me into his room. Once inside he let go of me, opened his window and began rummaging around his dresser. I leaned my back against the windowsill, grabbing the lighter from my pocket and crossed my arms, wrapping the blanket tighter around me as I waited, watching him with a smile on my lips. His arm shot up into the air, displaying the packet proudly as he found them, 'I'll give you, one.' He told me quietly, a stern expression on his face.
My mouth fell open in disbelief, 'I payed for them!' I exclaimed, forgetting myself. Bucky put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and walked up to me. He took a cigarette out of the pack and opened his hand expectantly, I gave him the lighter and he lit his cig, taking a puff and leaving it between his lips. He rested his elbows on the windowsill behind me and leaned forward, leveling his head with mine. Moving past my head, gracing my cheek with his as he blew the smoke out of the window, then leaned back. He had one arm on each side of me, crossed behind my back, he had me pinned between him and the window. Our faces were inches apart, both painfully aware that this wasnt appropriate of a daughter and the family friend, but the wine had pushed out any reason or logic of our minds. I couldnt help but look away, suddenly shy. Luring a smile from him as he observed the way a blush crept its way up my cheeks. I took the cig from him, my fingertips acidentally grazing his lips, and placed it between my own. I took a puff and faced him again, our eyes locked, sharing hidden thoughts through transparent gazes.
Energy sizzled in the air, building onto the tension between us, magnetizing it, pulling at the invisible string that connected us. 'Let me taste.' He whispered, inching closer. I hesitated, before slowly exhaling the smoke as he breathed it in, sharing the toxic cloud between us, poisoning our judgement. I felt myself drawn closer to him, the string pulling taunt on both ends, his lips a mere ghost over mine. Temptation coarsed through our veins, causing heavy breathing as we fought our urges. But we both gave in, in the end.
Our lips met in a soft kiss, he moved his arms from the windowsill and grabbed my waist. I was taken off guard, but welcomingly so. Complicated feelings bounced through my mind, but I couldnt back down now. I hurridly snuffed out the cigarette against the sill and snaked my hands around his neck as I kissed him back, pulling him closer. His hands found their way under my shirt, sliding up my torso until his fingertips touched the plush flesh of my breasts. He inhaled sharply, the oxygen returning to his brain as common sense flooded back to him. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, this was his best friends daughter. He tore free from the claws of desire, grabbing my arms and unhooking them from his neck, he backed up. I reached out for him, but he pulled away, sitting down at the end of his bed, he laid his head in his hands, a labored sigh leaving him.
'We cant, you know we cant.' He whispered, voice muffled against his palms. I did know, but I couldnt help it. I sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around his, grabbing his bicep as I rested my head against his shoulder. He sat straighter, letting one of his hands fall to my knee as the other stroked my hair, he kissed the top of my head.
'I just- Why did it turn out this way?' I asked him quietly, my voice quivering 'I know we cant, but. . .' I paused, thinking of the right words. His hand slid from my hair to gently caress my cheek, then tracing his fingers finger along my jaw until they found purchase under my chin and tilted my face to meet his. I searched his gaze for something unknow to me, 'I need you.' I whispered foolishly, my eyes watering, 'This is all your fault you know, your stupid smile and caring words.' I laughed mirthlessly, keeping my eyes locked on his, as a tear threatened to fall.
He cupped my face with boths hands, looking at me with a sorrowful expression as he leaned his forehead against mine.
'Bucky, please.' I whispered, leaning into his touch 'If you cant have me, stop this.' I pulled one of his hands from my face, clasping my own around it and kissed his palm softly before letting it fall to my lap.
'I cant get stuck. . . Wanting your love if you cannot give it to me.' I told him quietly, squeezing his hand as my voice broke, I leaned back, meeting his eyes again, pleading, 'Please say something.'
But he remained quiet as his eyes welled, admiring my blushed, tear streaked face.
My eyebrows furrowed, not understanding how he could be so cruel. A tear finally rolled down my cheek and my chin quivered in disbelief, I was nothing more than a naive girl to him.
I looked away, not wanting him to see the pain he caused me. I took his silence as a rejection and moved to stand, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me from leaving, 'Let me go.' I cried silently, unwilling to face him as tears streamed down my cheeks. I stood again, pulling, trying to unclasp my hand from his grip but I could not, 'Please Buck, I cant do this.' I croaked, looking up at the ceiling as I tried to blink my tears away.
'Look at me.' He ordered softly, but I refused. 'Doll.' He whispered in warning, but hearing his name for me only made my cry harder, I pulled on his grip again but he was unrelenting. 'Sit, please.' He asked this time, desperation burried in his voice.
'No.' I answered, resolute.
As I was not cooperating, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled me back down and cupped my face as kissed me harshly, I fought him out of anger, but quickly melted into his touch, all was forgiven, it had always been.
He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into my mouth, moaning from just the taste of me. My hands found their way to his brown locs, burrying themselves, while his hands felt their way down my body. We fell backwards onto the bed and he cilimbed on top of me, pushing his knee between my legs to separate them. His lips found my neck, trailing kisses from my jaw to collarbone as his hand kneaded its way up my thigh, my skirt catching on his wrist. His lips left my skin as he sat up, scaring me for a moment as I thought he changed his mind. But he climbed down to the foot of the bed, knees on the floor and hooked his hands under my kees, pulling me to the edge of the bed. His hands found my panties and ripped them off, I gasped from the sudden gust of cold air hitting my wet core. He kissed my thighs, licking and nipping as he worked his way inwards, panting inbetween pecks, desperate to taste me. He looked up at me, meeting my eyes as he hovered over my core, his breath fanning over my clit, he looked like a crazed mad man. The anticipation was overflowing, I bit my lip, nodding for him to go ahead and he dove in. Lapping at my clit, tasting me. I almost screamed from the sudden sensation, but covered my mouth at the last second. I rutted my hips against him, hoping for further friction, but his hands grabbed my hips, holding me down so he could please with intention. I whined, grabbing at the sheets, pulling on them for support, It wasnt enough.
'More, more.' I moaned, and he obligingly latched onto my clit, sucking as two of his fingers found their way inside me, thrusting and curling at my pleasure. Breathy moans escaped me as I was getting closer to cumming.
'Close, real close' I managed with a mumbling voice, he squeezed my hip in reassurance, telling me it was alright. I hummed as the knot in my stumache pulled tighter, he pushed another finger inside me and im convinced I saw the light. I came tumbling over the edge, stiffling another scream by shoving my face into the bed. And as I was catching my breath, he kissed his way back up to me, climbing on top once again, he snaked one arm under my back to pull my shirt off, freeing my breasts, then lifted my hips to take my skirt off, followed by his own shirt and sweats. He was huge, no surpise there.
'You okay?' He asked, and I hummed in response, cupping his face and pulling him back up to my lips, kissing him with a burning passion. He pulled back, 'Use your words girl.' He said sternly.
'Need you.' I whispered, kissing him again.
'You sure doll?' he asked against my lips, I nodded enthusiastically.
'Please, Ive never wanted anything more.' I assured him. He hooked my leg onto his knee, raising it to get better access to my opening. I circled my other leg around his hip and he lined himself up with my entrance.
'Look at me.' He ordered again, and I met his eyes, gazes locked deeply as his tip teased my entrance. I admired his beautiful face as I circled my arms around his shoulders, preparing for whatever was to come. Suddenly he slid inside me and we gasped in unisome, he didnt move for a second so I could get used to his size. He stroked a strand of hair behind my ear as he admired my face, 'My beautiful girl.' He whispered, making my heart beat faster.
He pulled out of me and thrusted in again softly, setting a slow but intent pace. Each thrust took my breath away, all the while he was grunting in my ear. His hand found its way to my throat, closing around it and squeezed, putting slight pressure on it and stealing another moannfrom me in the process. He graced his nose against my cheek, kissing my jaw as he thrusted deeper, and I met them with desperate ruts, 'C'mon doll, just like that.' He encouraged me in a breathy voice, that alone couldve been enough to make me cum. He trailed kisses down my chest and latched onto my breast, taking it into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at my nipple as his hand found the other, kneading it intently.
'Getting- closer.' I hummed, but his thrusting slowed, eventually stopping completley. 'Buck?' I questioned, and he let go of my breasts, pulling out of me completley, pleasure and confusion mixed my mind into a strange mess. He backed up, grabbed my legs, raising them and in one solid motion hooked them onto his shoulders and thrust into me again, deeper than ever before. A loud moan tore through me, to blided by the feeling that I completley forgot about being silent. His hand quickly covered my mouth as he began a ruthlessly deep and hard pace, rocking my entire body. His mouth quickly replaced his hand, kissing me deepley, passionateley, in rythm with his thrusts.
'Almost there, doll.' He mumbled between kisses, I nodded, not able to for words, but I was close to. The knot in my stumache terribly close to coming undone once again. His thrustingbecame rougher, harder as he closed in on his orgasm, hitting that sweet spot every time. Our breaths were nothing more than frenzied moans, his pace faltered, giving it all he had for a few last thrusts before we both came undone. Warm liquid spurting into me as he collpased on top of me, resting his head in the crook of my neck and kissing my skin softly as we cought or breath, 'Good girl.' He whispered, 'My good, good girl.' He panted, still inside me as his seed slowly, sippered out of me.
My heart fluttered at his words as I fought to keep my eyes open, the alcohol and exhaustion from the day along with the bliss of our secret activities were catching up to us. He laid an arm around my ribbcage, pulling me closer to him, I hooked my leg over his hip and curled up to him. I gave him a quick peck on the lips as he kissed my forehead, and we fell asleep in eachothers arms.
I woke up later in the night, but in my own room. I wouldve thought I had dreamt it all if it wasnt for the blanket tucked tightly around me, still smelling of him.
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Read part two HERE <3
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adragonprinceswhore · 4 months
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Tell Me You Missed Me I Tom Bennett x Reader
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Happy December 1st (the day we learned Ewan Mitchell is real). This is the first instalment of my Smuffy Christmas Event, a request by the wonderful @humanpurposes. Thank you for indulging me, Gee, I had way too much fun writing this 💖
Prompt: Trying to get the other to dance with them + Praise/degradation and edging
Summary: Tom Bennett, home from serving his country as part of the British Navy, is not pleased when he hears rumours that his girl danced with another man
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, AFAB reader, (Mentions of) 1940's sexism, war, degradation/praise (minimal praise but still), edging, fingering, unprotected P in V, humiliation kink, dirty talk, creampie, Tom being a menace
Word Count: 3000 (the other pieces will not be this long, my pu$$y wrote this)
---
The smooth tones of Duke Ellington echo through the narrow alley leading to your house. 
Tom knows what that means: you’re alone. Your parents despise jazz, leaving you no choice but to play the two records you’d worked all summer to afford in solitude. 
He grins to himself, stopping right by the front door to run two hands over his sailor suit, smoothing out any possible wrinkles. 
“Fuck, didn’t bring any flowers or nothin’”, Tom curses himself inwardly as he brings one hand up to knock on the crummy door of your family home. Impatient as always, he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he pushes the door open with one hand. 
“Oi, could you keep it down, miss?”, he half-shouts as he enters your house, grinning widely as his eyes immediately find you, seated at the dining table only a few paces from the entrance. 
Your eyes go wide as you take him in. 
He’s back. 
The cigarette that’s been dangling between your red-painted lips falls down to the table as your mouth opens in surprise. 
He’s alive. 
“Tom”, you breathe out, voice no louder than a whisper. 
When he left to join the Navy, you were sure that he’d never come back. Yet here he is, in your house, smiling just as brightly as before he left. The sparkle in his eye is there too. 
Just like you remember him. 
He steps forward, kicking the door closed behind him before taking two long strides towards you. He reaches down to pick up the still glowing cigarette on the table, taking a deep drag. 
“Take it you didn’t miss me then?”, he teases as he looks down at you, his broad-shouldered frame towering over your seat. 
“I didn’t think you’d come back”, you reply honestly, eyes still wide with disbelief as you look up at him. 
It was easier to assume that any young lad being sent away would never come back. Then the inevitable heartache wouldn’t hurt as much. 
“That why you went dancing with Mike Jones?”, he asks. The glimmer of mischief in his eyes seems to disappear as they narrow in accusation. 
“How’d you know about that?”, you answer, unable to shake the surprise from his sudden visit. Still wearing his uniform and hair neatly combed to the side, you’d guess he came straight from shore. 
“Word goes ‘round, y’know”, Tom states with a shrug, an attempted display of indifference, eyes trailing from your dumbfounded expression down your body. You suddenly feel like the form fitting everyday dress you’d thrown on in a haste earlier today was far too revealing, making heat crawl up your chest, neck and onto your cheeks. 
“Well, I’m here now. Dance with me”, he requests, a large hand reaching for yours resting on the table. 
“Tom, I-“, you stutter as you pull your hands away from him. 
How long will he be back for? 
How has life been at sea?
Did he miss you? 
“H-, how long are you back for?”, you stand up as you ask, one of your hands coming up to briefly touch his cheek. 
To make sure it’s really him. 
That he’s real. 
His expression looks sterner, jaw tightening as he snatches the hand you touched his cheek with, pulling you closer to him. 
“Dance with me”, he repeats, this time as a demand. 
You let him lead you, the hand not holding yours settling comfortably on your waist as both of your bodies sway slightly to the fast tones coming from the gramophone. 
“Suddenly you’re a dancer?”, you inquire playfully as you look up at his face through your lashes. He isn’t really; his pace does not match the rhythm of the song in the slightest and he barely lifts his feet as he sways in place with you in his arms. 
“Apparently”, he answers with another shrug of his shoulders. Your eyes flicker down to take him in once more. You’ve never seen him this dapper before; uniform highlighting the broadness of his shoulders, blue collar matching his eyes, and not a hair out of place. 
“An awful one”, you continue to tease him as the hand you’ve placed on his shoulder squeezes him softly. 
He hums humourlessly at your jab, the hand placed on your waist slowly travelling down your side, squeezing your hip and stroking your thigh over the fabric of your dress. 
Just as you're about to grab his hand and tell him to behave, he moves it under your skirt in one swift, quick motion; letting his palm roam across the soft skin. 
“Tom!”, you yelp as you try to push him away, stepping back quickly so that his hand can’t slide up further. 
“You liked that stuff before”, he says indifferently, grip on your hand still tight so that you can’t back away further. “Or is it Mikey Jones that touches you like that now?”
His tone is much harsher than before; his attempts at remaining carefree failing as cracks start to appear in the nonchalant mask he’d put on. 
“Tom, I was lonely and didn’t think you’d come back.. He took me dancing once, nothing more”, you try to reassure him. 
There’s so much you want to know; to ask him. How’s life in the navy? Is he eating well? Can he sleep? Does he get seasick? Has he received your letters? 
But all Tom seems capable of is obsessing over the fact that you took pity on Mike Jones from down the street and let him take you out. 
It’s your turn to take command, stepping forward to rest both of your arms around his neck as you look up to meet his stern glare.  
“Did you get my letters?”, you attempt to change the subject, fingers playing with the short, sandy hairs at the base of his neck. 
He hums again, reluctant to properly answer you though he pulls you closer to hold you in his arms. 
“I thought about you all the time, Tommy”, you say before getting on your toes to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. 
He pulls you even closer, mouth meeting yours in a sudden, passionate kiss that almost takes your breath away. He presses his tongue between your lips, demanding entrance to deepen the kiss, practically bending you backwards as he devours you. 
The act is incredibly dizzying; it leaves you breathless, exhausted and in the need for more. 
This time, when his hand moves to squeeze the soft meat of your inner thigh, you don’t step back. Instead, you push your body closer to his; your soft curves pressing into his sturdy chest. 
His impatient fingers soon move inside the fabric of your underwear, stroking your folds experimentally before letting two fingers part them. 
“Already wet?”, he grins as the tip of his fingers finds your bundle of nerves, drawing quick circles. The calluses on his work-worn hands scratch slightly against your sensitive skin and the sting of pain somehow amplifies the pleasure he’s giving you. 
Tom remembers exactly which kind of touch you like; how to make you putty in his hands. His tall frame still looms over you as he speeds up the pace of his hand, eyes watching your reaction intently.  
Your legs tremble as pleasure fills your being, peak hurtling towards where you stand in Tom’s embrace. One strong arm around you, keeping you in place, as his fingers move in and out, palm repeatedly pushing at your pearl. If not for the hold he has on you, you’re sure you’d be on the floor by now, legs almost unable to stand by themselves. 
“This what you thought of?”, he asks, eyes narrowing when they meet yours, fingers continuously working you towards release. You're standing so close together that your noses touch, breathing in and exhaling each other's air. 
You moan in reply, holding onto his shoulders like they’re your only anchor in a sea of all-consuming pleasure. With the last bit of strength you have left, you tilt your head up to ask him for another kiss. To your surprise, he denies you by moving his head to the side, mischief once again dancing in his eyes. 
Just as you’re about to peak, Tom stills, hand inside your knickers but unmoving. You whine in protest, glassy eyes looking up at him pleadingly. 
“What do you want?”, he questions with a wink, clearly pleased at how incredibly fast he’d reduced you to a trembling mess. 
“Make me feel good Tommy”, you request breathlessly, sounding way more desperate than you’d like. His lips stretch out into a wide grin, revealing his dimples. 
“Don’t know what that means, love”, he retorts, amused voice matching the cheeky curve of his lips. 
His smug demeanour is entirely infuriating, knowing that he’s already got you wrapped around his finger. It was always like this with him; he’d offer you bliss but only on his conditions. 
“Please make me peak”, you mumble, humiliation making you feel even hotter. He knows how embarrassed you get from your sporadic trysts, preferring to revel in how good he makes you feel than to think about the true nature of your filthy encounters. Your lover’s different, however. 
Tom chuckles at your plea, lowering his face to place a wet kiss on your cheek. 
“Nah, you’re not gonna get off on my fingers”, he says contemplatively, pouting mockingly at your tearful expression. “I want to feel you squeeze my cock when you do that”, he concludes and you wince at his crude language. He was so crass sometimes, it sent anxious waves of embarrassment through your stomach. 
You wish he could be like the romantic lead in one of the American pictures screening in town, full of promises of eternal love while placing lingering kisses on his lover's hands. But your Tommy wasn’t. 
The ache between your legs makes you lose all composure, so when he leads you to the dinner table, seating you upon it, you don’t protest. 
He stands between your legs, the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist as his hands move to drag your underwear down your legs. When you see him pocket them, you reach for his hand in a feeble attempt to take them back, but he just clicks his tongue as he swats your hand away. “These stay with me”, he grins as he pats the pocket of his trousers twice. 
He steps forward, standing so close to you your noses knock together, his lips ghosting over yours as his warm hands once again slide up your things. One of his fingers slips under the buckle of the garter belt you’re still wearing and playfully snaps the band against the meat of your inner thigh. 
Your lips part as you gasp at the sting and Tom takes the opportunity to kiss you, tongue coming out to lick your bottom lip slowly. His kisses before he left for the Navy were always hurried; quick and aggressive. But the way he kisses you tonight makes your knees weak; slow and sensual, one strong hand coming up to hold the back of your neck to secure you against him. It leaves you feeling dizzy; mind foggy from the want you feel for him. His lips travel from your mouth to your cheek, jaw, and neck, smearing saliva all over your heated skin. 
As his hands push your thighs further apart and he begins to undo his trousers, he whispers against your skin, “This the table you have tea at? With your mum and dad?” 
You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, so caught off guard you almost push him away. But you don’t.
“I don’t want to think about that now, Tom”, you reply sourly, though your voice sounds breathless, too filled with desire. 
“But I do. What would they say if they knew what their little girl was up to now? With the neighbourhood’s nuisance at that”, he says and you can feel him smile against the delicate skin of your neck. 
As you're trying to come up with a coherent reply, he starts to suck on the spot right below your ear and the retort at the tip of your tongue is replaced by the loud moan you let out. 
You feel him take a step backward, though his face stays hidden against your neck. You angle your hips slightly so that he can enter you easier, all you want is for him to finish what he started with his fingers. 
“Fucking her on their table”, he groans out as he pushes inside you in one swift motion. 
The sudden stretch and sense of fullness feel so overpowering you moan out again, longing for him to continue to work you towards the release you so desperately crave. 
As he snaps his hips against yours, his pelvis makes contact with your swollen pearl and you throw your head back in pleasure at the stimulation. 
Pushing your palms into the wooden surface underneath you, you bring your hips up slightly to meet each of Tom’s thrusts. He curses under his breath, gripping your hips tightly as he drags his length through your slick walls. 
It’s been so long. 
You’ve missed him so much. 
The sudden realisation that he's actually back, that you’re together again, paired with the familiar tightening as pleasure ascends inside of you, makes you clench down on him harshly, causing you both to moan in unison.
Tears of relief well up in the corners of your eyes as the climax you were previously robbed off seeks you out again. 
Tom continuously rolls his hips to meet yours, his length finding that spot inside you that makes you feel like you're floating. You wonder if all men are capable of this; of making young, sharp women into whining tarts. Or if it's just him. 
He once again slows his pace as your walls clamp down on him in a staggering rhythm, denying you the pleasure you so yearned for. 
“Tommy, please! I need release”, you sob, one frustrated tear falling down your flustered cheek. 
“You don’t need anything”, he scolds you, though he still has that cocksure smirk hiding behind the stern tone. “You just want a quick shag and for me to be on my way, s’that it?”
“No, no”, you shake your head in denial. 
“Then fuckin’ enjoy it”, he chides, ducking his head down to offer you another slow, breathstealing kiss. 
You want to enjoy it; enjoy being with him once again, but you can’t stop the ache between your thighs from consuming your senses.
Tom, knowing you better than you know yourself in this state, takes advantage of your dwindling gumption. 
“What do you want”, he asks again, one large, heated hand coming up to grab your chin. 
“I want you to make me peak”, you repeat, this time with a bit more confidence. You’ll play his silly little games, you don’t care about sounding vulgar anymore. 
Tom nods in understanding, feigning contemplation as he cocks his head at you. 
“You want me to fuck you?”, he clarifies and you immediately winch at his choice of words. 
Wasn’t he already?
You stay silent, shame, arousal and want making your inner monologue incoherent. 
“Tell me what you want. You want me to stretch out this tight cunt of yours?”, he inquires as he once again rolls his hips against you, causing his length to hit that spot that makes you weak. 
“Yes”, you whisper in defeat, nodding slightly in confirmation. The fingers holding your chin press into your skin harshly, “I can’t fuckin’ hear you”, Tom bites back. 
“Yes, I want you to fuck me”, you repeat, voice still low and filled with shame. He’s gotten what he wanted; he’s won once again. 
“Such an indecent little thing”, he muses as another boyish grin appears on his face. Feeling high on the rush of victory, Tom takes pity on your miserable state.
“Hold on to my shoulders”, he instructs as he picks up the pace once again. You follow his directive mindlessly, sweaty palms grabbing the fabric of his uniform harshly, surely ruining the crisp attire representing His Majesty's Servicemen. 
Tom’s lips find yours again, kissing you softly while the movement of his hips are anything but. He pushes you down onto the table, and you wrap your tired, shaking legs around his waist with the last strength you can muster. The new position allows him to enter you deeper as he consumes you fully, making the table underneath the two of you creak loudly with every slam of Tom’s hips. 
You feel the wetness between your thighs trail down your buttocks, dripping onto your family’s dining table. The thought makes you clench around Tom’s length again, aroused by the depravity he’s led you into. 
One of his hands moves down your stomach, lowering to swipe his thumb against your bundle of nerves. You whine at the brief contact, desperate for more. You’re so close now, you can feel your peak approaching again.
“Who’s the only bloke that gets to fuck you?”, he asks, thumb resting on your mound, waiting for your reply. 
“You, Tommy”, you answer instantly, voice whiny and shrill from despair. If he denies you release again you’ll surely compost from the tension restricted inside of you. 
“That’s what I thought”, he triumphs, thumb awarding your submission by granting your pearl stimulation. 
You peak within seconds, the tension inside of you erupting in an internal explosion of bliss, causing your hands to curl into fist, legs shake and breath get caught in your throat. Tom, seeing your face scrunch in pleasure as your walls tighten around him, climaxes with a loud grunt on top of you, body stretching taunt in pleasure before his arms give in, body sinking down to heavily rest on top of yours. 
You're still breathing heavily when he pushes himself up on both arms again to lock eyes with you. “Tell me you missed me”, he commands quietly, making it sound far less patronising than his previous demands.
You lift your head up to kiss him again. “I missed you”, you reassure him, smiling at his fleeting display of insecurity. 
How could you not?
---
A/N: Thank you so much for reading babies 💙 I wanted to do this little December challenge to improve my writing and play around with different scenarios and expressions. This means that I'm trying to write these pieces while having fun and not overthink too much! So if they're not perfect, please know that they're not meant to be.
A special thank you to @hoosbandewan for taking requests and making this gif for me! 💙
Everything taglist: @humanpurposes @theoneeyedprince
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kaplerrr · 11 months
Text
Summertime Fondness
John "Captain" Price x wife!reader
Platonic wife!reader and Simon Riley.
Reader is from another country (implied), enormous amount of fluff, John is the sweetest man ever, you and John act like an old couple, this fic is basically a "found family" trope for Simon, John is a plant dad and Simon is a bookworm, John calling Simon "son" shouldn't make me feel the way I feel but here I am, totally self indulgent
Summary: You and John invited Simon to your house on a summer day and everyone is nice and happy.
_____________________________________
Your eyes fluttered open. Sitting lazily, you stretch. Making your bones crack loudly.
"Sounds like you gettin' old, love" Turning your attention to your husband, eyes still closed, lying on his stomach and wearing a little smile on his tired face, you laugh and slap his back playfully.
"Speak for yourself, old bear !" you bite back before gracelessly letting you fall on his back, ignoring his muffled protest, and hug him tightly.
"How did my beloved sleep ?" You ask, peppering soft kisses on his nape and shoulders.
You hear him sigh happily and close your eyes to fully enjoy his body warmth. He moves you as he lays on his back before hugging you close to his chest. He kisses your forehead before answering "Always peaceful when I'm with you."
You smile and kiss his jaw. You close your eyes and are lulled by his breathing and steady heartbeat, enjoying the attack of tender kisses on your head.
You enjoy the comfortable silence for a while before sighing heavily "John, we have to get up."
"Five more minutes ?"
"We can't John, you know that" you say almost regretfully. "Simon will arrive soon enough."
With a last kiss on his lips, you get up as you already miss his soft embrace. "Coffee ?" You ask, rising your voice slightly as you make your way to the kitchen.
At the beginning of your relationship, you had teased him about his lack of appreciation for tea. You are a disgrace to your country, you had said with an over exaggerated gasp, making him scoff.
You feel your husband hugging you from behind. "I'll take care of breakfast angel, go get ready."
"Thanks love" you say as you kiss his hand. Before gathering some clothes and heading to the bathroom.
You had asked your husband to invite his friends to your house. You've already met the whole squad (and you swore to yourself to never again reunite Johnny and Kyle together in your living room, they were chaotic together) and, if you were being honest, you had grown attached to all of them. Kyle could kill for the food you made and Johnny was just too happy to have someone that could tease and prank his captain, survive and tell the story. They were like family now and you wanted to spend time with your family.
Unfortunately, Kyle and Johnny were unable to come.
What about Simon ?
He did like you, you knew that. You saw this cold man warm up to you step by step.
You once noticed he was fond of an iced tea with peaches (or any fruit according to the right season) and a dash of honey you were making. He never asked for it but you would make it every time he would come to your house for some reason and he would greatly appreciate your efforts, thanking you quietly.
But Simon was alone most of the time and he wasn't one to complain. He would sometimes refuse an invitation. You could understand the need to be alone from time to time, but you were worried he was too lonely for his own good. The both of you would talk about some book you read or that he wanted to read, you would lend him the book saying "now you'll have a reason to come back" with a pleased grin.
You knew he appreciated the effort of making him feel welcome to your house, your home. He was always awkward the first hour, as if he was visiting for the first time. John and you didn't pay attention as you would casually include him in your talking or playful arguing.
"What about taupe ?" You said as you were looking at the blank wall
"Taupe ? No, no let's keep it simple, grey."
"John, that wall is awfully dull, we can't make it just "grey", love."
"Yes we can !"
"No, besides taupe would make the plants look so good !"
"My plants are already good looking, thank you very much." he said with in mock offence, making you laugh.
"Alright, Simon, what do you think ?"
And just like that he would relax and join the conversation. He wasn't that much into talking but would absolutely listen everything, which was actually really useful when he was "picking a side" to your quarrels.
You were glad he accepted this time. The weather was great, you had decided to eat outside. The garden was quite big, enough space for a table and for gardening. You were so surprised when you found out John's appeal to gardening but it made you love him even more.
"If you ever say anything about it to Johnny or Kyle, I'm leaving you." He said in a grumpy tone, cheeks slightly pink as he listened your gleeful laugh caused by his confession.
"Oh my, we don't want that, do we ?" You calmed your giggles before wrapping your arms around his neck "I love how resourceful you are, I'm not losing you now." You said kissing the corner of his eye. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."
Enjoying each other embrace, you didn't talk for a few minutes.
Until...
"Does that mean I can tell Simon ?" You teased.
"Oh God, don't you dare."
You took a quick shower, determined to set everything before your guest's arrival. You found John on the couch, sipping hid drink and reading some news paper. Your mug was on the coffee table, waiting for you.
"Mrs Price, you look ravishing today." He said as he handed you the cup.
"You're not so bad yourself, Husband of mine." You giggled, kissing his cheek.
____________________
Honestly you were quite proud of yourselves as you eyed the several salad bowls on the counter.
"We did it !" You say smugly, looking at your stunning husband.
"We're a good team" he agreed, kissing you quickly "now I'm gonna take a shower and we're making dessert, how does that sound?"
"Sounds perfect." You nod, smiling widely.
You washed a few bowls and kitchen utensils you were going to use for dessert when a ring at the door interrupted you. You rush to the door.
"Simon, hey !" You greet, surprised. "You're early."
He nods "I can come back later ?" Not knowing if he was one hundred percent serious, you quickly dismissed the question.
"Don't be silly and make yourself at home, will you ?" You gesture him to get in, taking a few steps back.
You put a hand on his arm, beaming "Welcome home, Si." He smiled, muttering a quiet and polite "thank you". You noticed he was holding flowers. You look at him with curiosity, eyebrow rising slowly. He sways bashfully and gives them to you, explaining that he got them before coming to your house and got a new bottle of whisky for John.
"Thank you, they're lovely. I'm gonna put them in a vase! John's taking a shower he should be done in a few minutes. Get yourself comfortable, dear." You instructed making your way to the kitchen, Simon following you.
He glanced at the counter "That's a lotta food."
"And we haven't made dessert yet."
"What are you doing?"
"A dessert from my childhood, I haven't eaten it in years, since I've settled in London. I thought it would be a good idea to make it today."
"Can I help you ?"
You instructed him to wash his hands and explained the recipe. Explaining what to do with each ingredient. You rambled about some anecdotes of you and your family, telling him how your mother used to cook, how she would tell you that she added a "special ingredient" to her dishes and that she would always refuse to tell you what it was. Simon didn't talk, he nodded to show that he was listening but he was more focused on your movements he was clumsily trying to replicate, which made you laugh.
"Well, that kitchen is a bit crowded, isn't it?" John said, leaning against the doorframe. Face relaxed, smiling softly.
"Simon, nice to see you, son." John said shaking his hand firmly. Both men nodding at each other
"What a distinguished gentleman like yourself is doing in my kitchen ?" You joked as you planted a loud kiss on his beard.
"I believed I had a mission about helping someone making dessert ?"
"You know what they say- you snooze, you lose." You shrugged unapologetically.
"And what should I do to help?"
Your smile widened and you lend him a sponge "the table outside needs a little cleaning and then I might need someone brave enough to taste our dessert, hmm ?"
"Lucky for you, it's my job to be brave." He chuckled and made his way outside. Turning your attention back to Simon, you simply add "Let's continue, yeah ?"
_________
The next few hours were delightful. After lunch you asked if they would like to play some board games, which they agreed. You strictly prohibited Uno or any similar type of games since you've had witnessed your husband lose his sanity over that diabolical game, something you wish to never see ever again.
After a few games you stoped and while you were busying yourself with a book and a glass of tea, the boys were chatting, drinking the wishky Simon had brought, the alcohol making him speak more than usual. As you were enjoying the sun on your skin, you looked at the two men sitting a few metre away from you, seeing your husband laughing and Simon's smirk, you knew the latter must have said a bad joke.
A warm feeling made you giddy as you realised how much you loved John. You loved his laugh, his grunts, his attitude, his gruffness, his tenderness, his protectiveness. More often than not he was stubborn, sometimes he was tough. Yet you couldn't have dreamt of a better husband, of a better man to love.
Your gaze drifted to the younger man and you briefly wondered if you should give him sunscreen. Simon was so pale, you couldn't help but worry he would burn if he stayed for too long exposed to the sun. You didn't know much about him, you had once realised. At the beginning you knew he was working with your husband and that he was a loner. Now you knew better, you were learning to read him, as much as he would let you. You appreciated him, he was John's friend, he was your friend, he was family. You'll give him time, you weren't in a rush.
You didn't need his past to appreciate the man he was today.
The sun had almost disappeared when Simon rose, announcing he was going to leave.
You quickly eyed John who nodded at you "You can stay for the night if you want, you know we have a spare room." You said matter-of-factly.
"No thank you, I'm gonna head back. But I appreciate it." He said with a hint of a smile.
You nodded and directed him to the kitchen. You took some tupperware and filled them the leftovers food from lunch.
"Here, you're gonna bring some at home." You said, giving him the boxes. When he opened his mouth to refuse, you shushed him.
"You wouldn't want to hurt my feelings, right ?" You teased and smiled warmly when you saw him shake his head vigorously. "Then shut up and take the food."
He sighed as you laughed in victory.
A few minutes later, he was at the door, thanking you and John profusely.
"You'll always be welcome here, Si." You smiled and waved at him.
"See you soon, Simon" John said, patting his shoulder.
As you watched him leave and closed the door, you looked John's in the eyes, always in complete awe at the deep cerulean blue colour. You wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a quick peck on his lips.
"Have I ever told you I love you ?"
_______________________________
Omg I can't believe I'm done with this fic I'm so happy :>
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writer-in-theory · 1 year
Text
related to this post but can be understood on its own
--
Mother's Day hadn't been important to the Harrington family since Steve was still a little tot. He would proudly hand off messy crayon drawings of their family, proclaiming for the entire house to hear that Maggie Harrington was the best mom ever.
She hadn't heard that statement in years. She's sure she hadn't earned it in even longer.
No one will tell her what happened in May of 1987, or what Steve was doing out in the old junkyard in the first place. She knew it wasn't what the gentle man from the federal government had told her, that someone from town had seen him and Eddie together. The town was a lot of things, but even Maggie knew that no one was capable of producing injuries like the ones Steve had. All she had to cling to was the steady beeping of the heart monitor and his friends' fierce insistence that he would wake up.
But Steve hadn't, so now Maggie was spending her first Mother's Day with her son in years within the sterile walls of Hawkins Memorial Hospital.
It's the same routine she had for two weeks. Maggie would wake up, pick out the comfiest clothes she could find in her closet (which were, admittedly, slim pickings) and drive to the hospital the second visiting hours started to stay until they ended. Sometimes the staff would let her come early or stay late. The girl who called herself Steve's best friend (who Maggie doesn't ever remember meeting) said it was because, even unconscious, Steve had a way of winning people over. That had been the first time Maggie had laughed since she got the call.
It had been Eddie who'd done it.
Maggie could still remember the fleeting chill that latched onto her back when the phone rang that night, like somehow she had known her sweet son was hurt.
"Maggie." Eddie's voice was hardly there, scraping through his throat past the hurt and tears. It had taken nearly three months to convince him to call her anything but Mrs. Harrington, but he'd finally given in. There were times—that she's sure will never be vocalized as long as she lives—that Maggie wished she couldn't be called Mrs. Harrington, that she didn't have to be associated with everything she and her husband had messed up along the way.
"Eddie, what's going on?" She asked when he didn't explain right away, clutching the phone receiver tightly. "Is everyone okay?"
"You need to get to Hawkins Memorial," Eddie choked out, and Maggie wondered only briefly if the words were fishhooks scraping cruelly at his throat. "Maggie, it's Steve."
The whimper that escaped her didn't register as human to her ears, only pain. It was better than the clinical calls she'd received after Starcourt and the earthquake, when police officers and hospital staff had to inform her where her son was because he hadn't asked anyone to contact her. But this time, she had begun to make her peace with her son. She'd met Eddie, had him over for family dinners while Robert was in Chicago at work—because, truly, why would she miss out on all this to follow someone across the country just to make sure they didn't cheat?
Since then, the hospital had become more of a home to Maggie than the house did. She was a constant by Steve's bed, sometimes working on a random hobby to keep her hands busy and sometimes simply holding onto Steve's cold, clammy one, begging him to wake up soon.
She may have been the most consistent, but she wasn't the only one. All of the middle schoolers (who weren't quite so young anymore, were they?) stopped by when they could, more frequently now that school was out for the summer. Joyce Byers and Police Chief Hopper came by occasionally, who held Maggie's hand and promised everything would be okay. Steve was a fighter. Nancy Wheeler and Steve's new friend, Robin, would come by too. It took three times before Maggie had laughed and gently told them that they didn't have to hide around her, prompting them to tentatively hold hands on the other side of Steve's bed.
Maggie hadn't heard from Eddie since the phone call. The others kept saying he was coming, that he asked them how Steve was every time they left. He even asked how she'd been doing a few times, Robin said.
She supposed it was only fitting that he showed up on Mother's Day. He stood hesitantly in the doorway of the room, holding onto a bouquet of pink flowers. It took a few minutes for her to even notice, Maggie fully focused on brushing away some of Steve's hair off of his face and rubbing at his lower arms as if to protect the circulation there.
"Oh, honey, come on in," Maggie told Eddie the second she noticed, moving to the chair beside hers so Eddie could be nearest to Steve. "I'm sure Steve'll be so happy to hear your voice?"
"He can hear us?" Eddie asked, breath sounding a little wispy.
"I'd like to think so," Maggie said back. "The kids tell him all about their days. Did you know how much the one with the curly hair can talk?"
Eddie laughed at that, a small little noise that falls flat amongst the white walls. "You can't let Henderson talk without a time limit. I had to bring a Talking Stick to D&D meetings so he'd let everyone have a turn."
"The kids said you haven't been holding those, since...," Maggie fought not to glance up at the bed.
"I can't focus on anything like that," Eddie admitted. "It's Steve, you know? I don't think I can be happy until he wakes up."
"You can," Maggie promised, and her chest warms as the truth of her statement rings clear. "It's hard, and somedays it feels impossible. But it helps having the people who love him most around. Don't shut the kids out, Eddie, you need them as much as they need you."
"You don't get it," Eddie whispered, fingers tightening around the flowers enough to make the plastic holding them together crinkle. "If you knew, you wouldn't want me here."
"Never." Maggie turned in her chair to face Eddie, who looked so pulled taught he might snap at any extra tension. "Eddie, you will always have a place here. Steve loves you, so much, and you've become a part of this family. Family always has a place here, no matter what happened."
"He fucking sacrificed himself for me, the fucking prick," Eddie hissed, before snapping his head up at Maggie and blushing. "Sorry."
Maggie couldn't help the laugh that stuttered out of her, surprised at first but then solely amused. "No, no, I'll be saying the same when he wakes up. It sounds like my son has a tendency for self-sacrificing moves."
"He does, like he's some knight in shining armor or something," Eddie huffed, tugging his fingers through messy curls. "I thought I was gonna die, but then Steve was there. Maggie, I didn't want him to, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
Maggie wouldn't say she always had a good motherly instinct, but even to her it's obvious then to reach out for Eddie. The moment she brought him in for a hug, he collapsed against her. He hid his face in her shoulder like Steve used to when he was a kid, sobs so loud they hurt her ears as he clutched onto her shirt and wailed. She let him though, simply holding on and feeling her own tears crash through her body.
"It's okay, Eddie, it's not your fault. It's okay," she told him, "it's going to be okay."
It has to be, because Steve had finally found someone who loved him without expecting anything in return. Because she was just beginning to repair her relationship with her son. Because she had finally been looking forward to Mother's Day for the first time in years. Because Steve was an incredible young man, and she wanted to see everything he could accomplish.
Eddie and Maggie didn't speak much after the tears slowed. Eddie held onto Steve's hand and spoke in a low enough voice that Maggie could only pick up on every other word. She focused on her knitting, because maybe Claudia Henderson had a point that the hand movements were soothing.
And when Eddie stood up to leave, the most remarkable thing happened. He bounced on his feet nervously for a few seconds before holding the flowers out toward her. "These are, um, these are for you."
Maggie was sure she'd heard him wrong. "I'm sorry?"
"I just, I know it's Mother's Day and you have to be here," Eddie began. "You shouldn't have to be here. Steve was talking about taking you to lunch and some play in Indianapolis I don't know anything about. And you can't do any of that because he's here, and so you're here."
Eddie sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before starting again. "You've been a great mom to him, Maggie. You've been a great mom to me, and you don't have any reason to be. I was looking forward to being able to say 'thank you' today, 'cause I haven't really had a mom to be thankful for in awhile. So thank you, and I'm sorry you didn't get the celebration you deserve, Maggie."
Maggie was crying again, she's sure that had been her default for the past two weeks. Mother's Day. The boys had really planned a day for her, had really wanted to spend a day with her.
"Oh, Eddie, this is all I need," she told him honestly, hugging him once more. "You're my favorite future son-in-law, for the record."
Eddie laughed, wet around the tears that had reformed in his eyes. "Yeah, well, that's a steep competition, I'm sure."
"Thank you, Eddie," Maggie said instead, sure that there were no words that could adequately describe what she felt in that moment. "Thank you for being so good to him."
Eddie comes back every day after, usually with a small bag of meals that he and his Uncle Wayne had come up with to get him and Maggie through the visiting hours. They both would talk, sometimes to Steve but mostly to one another. She was thankful for the chance to get to know the person her son loved, the person Steve was willing to risk everything for.
And when Steve woke up a week later, they both cried together.
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mrs-lockley · 2 months
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Reach for the Moon | I. The Breaking
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PAIRINGS: (Slow Burn, Romantic) Jake Lockley x Southeast Asian Fem!Reader, (Platonic) Steven Grant x Southeast Asian!Fem Reader, (Unrequited) Marc Spector x Southeast Asian Fem!Reader, no use of Y/N, no physical description of the reader
WARNINGS: Unrequited love (Reader is in love with Marc, Marc is oblivious but means well), first love and heartbreak, Reader knows limited Spanish, italics in dialogue indicates Reader and her parents speaking a foreign language (unspecified), mentions of divorce and a brief mention of the military 
WORD COUNT: 7.5k
SERIES SUMMARY: Inspired by the 1954 film & 1995 remake of Sabrina, No Moon Knight AU. 
To heal your broken heart from your unrequited crush on Marc Spector, your family sends you to Singapore to help establish your cousin’s bakery. You return to New York two years later as a more confident woman, but you find yourself picking up the pieces of your broken heart (again) after seeing Marc still holding onto his first love. Sensing the pain and heartbreak between you and Marc, Jake steps in as a white knight to create distance to help both of you heal, but he was never supposed to fall in love with you. 
Author's Note: Many thanks to @soft-girl-musings, @v4mpires0ap, @callingmrsbarnes for supporting me with this fic. It's been a long time coming 🤍 Special thanks to @flightlessangelwings for your guidance and advice on making writing more inclusive! Today is my birthday, and I wanted to share this to my dear friends who never gave up on me when I gave up on writing.
Tagging (but no pressure to read!): @writefightandflightclub @venting402 @musing-magpie @themarcusmoreno
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THE BREAKING
You remembered your last night in New York— it was near the end of summer when you were set to leave to help your cousin establish her bakery in Singapore. While your friends and family were excited for your new adventure abroad, you had run away, letting your feet guide you to an all too familiar apartment building before you collapsed on the steps. Your heart was filled with dread, splintering into two like an old tree bending to the howling winds of sorrow and heartbreak. 
How foolish you were, you thought to yourself as you sobbed on the steps, your face buried in your hands as the tears continued to pour out of you. Your heart held no contempt for your cousin or the beautiful country of Singapore; you loved your cousin dearly and always wanted to visit her there, but living in Singapore for two years would mean leaving him behind.
Marc Spector, the man you loved for so many years. The man who didn’t even know you existed, the man who didn’t love you back. 
He was beautiful, handsome. Dark brown eyes and curly black hair, strong brows and the whisper of a five o’clock shadow kissing his jaw and cheeks. A smooth voice with a bit of a drawl that you found comforting and uniquely Marc. Broad, wide shoulders and sun-kissed tan skin, it did not take long for you to fall in love with him.
Like scenes from an old film, you replayed your cherished memories of him in your mind. His nose scrunching when laughing at one of your jokes, his proud smile when you showed him your college degree, his gentle lips on your forehead as he comforted you after a rough night. 
As much as you love him, shards of guilt tore through you. Deep down, you knew he was still reeling from his divorce, and that he still harbored feelings for his ex-wife. A few nights after the two of you had too much to drink, Marc would recount the memories he shared with her that were near and dear to his heart. Each time he mentioned her name, daggers were impaled through you. How could you let yourself fall for someone who only saw you as a friend and still had feelings for their first love? 
You had set yourself for heartbreak, and you had no one to blame but yourself as you tried to pick up the pieces and forget your feelings for him. Perhaps living in Singapore for two years would be for the best. You would make yourself forget about him and the distance would ease the pain and remedy the inevitable heartbreak that was soon to follow.
Before you could draft a plan, a pair of dark boots appeared in front of you, followed by the sound of a familiar voice calling your name in concern.
Your heart skipped a beat. 
“What are you doing out here so late? What’s wrong?”
You pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your wrists as you hastily wiped your tears, using your sleeves as a makeshift tissue. “I’m fine, Jake. I just got lost in my head, please do not worry about me.”
Your lips quivered and your voice trembled as soon as you spoke, a sob threatening to escape from your throat as another wave of tears pricked the corners of your eyes. How silly of you to fall apart on the steps outside of his apartment building- have you no shame?
To your surprise, a thin cloth was offered to you, pulling you out of your thoughts before you could spiral into self-degradation and pity. Hesitantly, you looked up at him to find his brown eyes softening in empathy. When you didn’t accept the kerchief right away, he gently gestured it towards you again, urging you to take it.
With a quiet thank you, you accepted it, dabbing your eyes and steadying your breathing as you heard him take a seat on the steps beside you.
“Did someone hurt you?”
You shook your head, but kept your gaze fixed on the cloth in your hands. Even though Marc and Jake shared the same face, Jake was different. You couldn’t bear to look at him— one look, and he would see right through you.
Instead of answering him, you observed the scene in front of you. Across the street, two lovers exchanged sweet words and loving promises. Down the sidewalk, children screamed as they chased each other down the block. Cars, buses, and taxis drove by in a blur with only their flickering tail lights indicating their passing presence. You thought back to the nights you spent with Marc, your arm linked with his as he walked you home after you finished your night classes at the university. He would listen as you vented about the assignments your professors piled on you in the middle of midterms and other projects with similar deadlines. 
“We’re proud of you, you know,” Marc said once you finished crossing the street. “Going to school to get your degree. I went straight into the Marines after high school and was discharged after …”
His voice trailed off, but you caught the stony expression on his face and the darkness that clouded his eyes. Your heart began to ache. 
“I’m proud of you, too,” you nudged him lightly. “You’ve been through a lot, but you’re still here. I think that’s something worthy and important to celebrate.”
You grinned as you watched a smile form on his lips. How rare it was to see Marc smile, but how sweet it was to be the reason behind it.
After a moment, you answered him. 
“I’m just sensitive, that’s all.” 
The two of you sat in silence for a minute as you both listened to the bustling sounds of the city. That was the thing about Jake Lockley– his actions spoke louder than words, and him sitting here with you, letting you cry and stain his handkerchief with your eyeliner and mascara was enough to pull you out of your downward spiral. 
“That may be true,” Jake hummed from beside you, “but it’s okay to be sensitive. It means that you care and feel things deeply.”
Perhaps a little too deeply, you mused as you folded his handkerchief. It was your parents’ idea for you to live in the Lion City for two years as a way for you to not only apply what you learned in college to the real world, but to keep you away from Marc. 
���You need to forget about him. Pining after him will do you no good,” your father lectured one evening after Marc dropped you off at home. “He does nothing but bring you heartache.”
“He is a good man, Papa,” you reasoned. 
Your mother sighed as she pulled you onto the couch to sit between her and your father. “We never said he was a bad person, my child. But we don’t want to see you heartbroken over him. You are young and have your whole life ahead of you to fall in love with someone else.”
Suppose they have a point, you reckoned. All your life, you fantasized about falling hopelessly in love with someone and that they would reciprocate your feelings in return, but life is not as colorful and sweet as the romantic novels you read. 
“Have you ever fallen in love with someone you weren’t supposed to have feelings for?” You asked quietly. 
Jake smiled softly, but you caught the pain in his voice as he spoke. “A long time ago, yes.”
You were not close friends with Jake, not to the same level as you were with Marc and Steven. With Jake, he was more private. Much like the cabbie that he was, it often felt like there was a window between the two of you. He was in the front seat, but you were in the back seat, only seeing rare glimpses of him through the window in between.
His brown eyes fell on yours, and he raised a curious, but amused, eyebrow at you. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry,” you apologized, your cheeks growing warm. “I don’t know you as well as I know Marc and Steven, so it’s a little strange for me to picture you as a man who was madly in love. You are always so quiet.”
To your surprise, Jake laughed, and you could not help but laugh along with him as you noticed how the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. It was not often you heard him laugh, but it was a delightful sound that you wanted to hear again. 
“You’re a funny girl,” he chuckled, but you were not offended by his words. “But you do have a point. How about this? I’ll promise to show more of myself when you return from Singapore?”
You smiled at him as he extended his gloved hand to you. “I’d like that very much.” 
His smile was kind in return as he shook your hand. Then, he stood, gently helping you up from where you were seated on the dusty steps. 
“It’s getting late, conejita (little bunny), let me drive you home before your parents worry about you.”
You could not help but chuckle at the nickname he had given you as you followed him, barely catching the fond smile on his face as he helped you down the steps. Your tears had dried by then, your heart a little bit lighter while he guided you to his car. 
Like a true gentleman, he opened the door for you, making sure you had your seatbelt on before heading to the other side. Inside, everything was uniquely Jake with the smell of leather and his cologne, the seats spacious and free of clutter. As he turned on the engine, the comforting melody of a Spanish love ballad played from the speakers, and you slowly closed your eyes.
The first few nights in Singapore were rough. You were miserable and heartbroken as you absentmindedly helped your aunt, uncle, and cousin clean up the new shop. Concerned as they were, they insisted that you rest, convinced you were exhausted from the jet lag and adjustment to the new time change. Of course, you should have known better that they would contact your parents. Not wanting to keep secrets, they told them about your unrequited crush on “a handsome boy back home,” and that you were heartbroken that he could not tell you goodbye. 
The first few months, you wrote various letters to Steven. From tourist postcards to long handwritten letters, you poured your thoughts, feelings, and emotions into the letters, hoping that your best friend would offer you some solace and healing to your heartache. 
I have never fallen in love so deeply, not even when I was a teenager. Isn’t it childish? My parents were worried, and now my aunt, uncle, and cousin fear I may not be helpful in establishing their bakery because of my “broken heart.” Growing up, I wanted to fall in love like in the movies, but I never expected it to be this painful and tragic. You would think that a smart girl like me would have fallen in love with someone else. Instead, I fell for a man who is still in love with his first love. I might as well be reaching for the moon. 
It would take weeks, sometimes a couple months before your letter would reach him. You would anxiously check the mail each day, hoping for comfort from him. When you finally received his letter, you excused yourself to the kitchen where you sat with your face covered in flour, your apron already painted in various colors from testing different icings as you unfolded his letter. 
You are still young, and you will find love again. The first love is always so painful, but do not fret, love. Have you forgotten? We already built rockets to reach the moon. It is a matter of finding the one that gravity pulls you to. 
You cherished each letter you wrote him. Even in today’s digital age, you and Steven preferred pen, wrinkled papers, and postage stamps. You would collect the most colorful and vibrant postcards to send to Steven so he could add it to his collection, and you could not help but smile when he sent a picture of all your postcards taped to Gus’ fish tank.  It felt a bit old-fashioned to wait months for a letter overseas, but more intimate as you shared stories and memories with each other.
The first few months were a bit painful, but as it turned into a year, your heart did not ache as much as when you left New York. Your cousin’s bakery took off during the first year, and soared to higher heights in the second with lines trailing out the door, but you were quick on your feet to bring out all the delectable treats and desserts that the city loved. One eventful night, your cousin brought you with her college friends to the local bar to celebrate, and you forgot that Marc broke your heart as you both sang to your favorite songs until your lungs ached and your throat ran dry. 
You stumbled into the kitchen that night with your cousin, the two of you giggling as your aunt and uncle merely laughed at how affectionate the two of you were with each other. You quickly ran to your room to pull out a pen, your body filled with warmth as you sat at your bedroom window with your cousin’s cat curled at your feet. 
Oh Steven, I haven’t felt this happy since leaving New York. I just got back from the karaoke bar with my cousin, and although I might be a little tipsy, I’ve learnt so many things here in Singapore. The night is young, but rich with dreams, wishes, and hope as I write underneath a full moon. Come what may, my heart will be open to new possibilities and adventures, for I am not the same person as I was yesterday. And before I forget, don’t tell my parents that I will be coming home a few weeks early; I want to surprise them, and I want to surprise you with how much I have grown. I would like to think I am not the same college girl who left with a broken heart, because I will return as a hopeful young woman who still dares to dream.
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Before you knew it, you were packing your things and ready to return home. Your aunt, uncle, and cousin embraced you tightly with tearful smiles as they dropped you off at the airport, and soon, you were flying through the clouds. Your heart fluttered in excitement at seeing your family and friends again, and for once, you were not too worried about facing him again. You remained hopeful as you reminded yourself of how far you’ve come as you carried your dreams with you. 
But perhaps you spoke too soon. 
You called Steven a few nights before to plan for your arrival. Steven promised that he would pick you up at the JFK airport, but as you made it down the escalator, your heart nearly stopped. Waiting at the bottom was Marc Spector, holding up a sign with your name and a bouquet of flowers. His face is partially hidden by the shadow of his cap, but you could see the growing smile on his face as you approached. 
“I know you were expecting Steven,” he explains as you stop in front of him, “but he remembered he can’t drive, so I offered to step in-”
Your heart swells as you take him in. It has been two years since you saw him last. You did not keep in touch with Marc as closely as you did with Steven, but seeing him hold a sign with flowers for you, you suddenly feel like that college girl again. 
Before he could finish his sentence, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly.
“Thank you for coming for me,” you whisper. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
Your heart skips a beat as he returns your embrace. With your head on his shoulder, you close your eyes. His arms are as strong as you remembered him, and the scent of his cologne brings you back to those nights he would pick you up after class to walk you home. 
“It’s good to see you. We missed you.”
You ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as he pulls away. He looks down at you, and you could not help but smile at the warmth and softness in his brown eyes.
“I almost didn’t recognize you. You look different.” 
“Different?”
Marc smiles softly. He smoothes a loose strand of your hair, and you pray in that moment that he did not feel the sudden heat rising to your cheeks from the contact.
“A good kind of different,” he answers, “you’re glowing.”
Butterflies flutter in your tummy at his words. It was true- you were a different woman now, and you were not the same college girl with an unrequited crush on her friend. 
But in that moment, it seems all you could think about is his gentle smile. If you weren’t careful enough, you would slowly turn back into that lovesick girl. 
Before you delve too deep into your thoughts, Marc smiles fondly at you again as he hands you the bouquet.
“Let me get your things, and then I can take you home.”
You smile at him as he gathers your belongings. As you follow him out of the terminal, your fingers absentmindedly trace the soft petals of the daffodils. They are a soft white and delicate between your fingertips, and you are already thinking about what vase to use and where to put it in your bedroom once you get home. 
The ride home was quiet, and as much as you wanted to ask him about everything that you missed in the past two years, you were exhausted from your trip. It took some time, but Marc was able to persuade you to sleep, only lightly tapping your shoulder to wake you when he pulled up to your parents’ driveway. It was after dinner when you saw their silhouettes moving across the kitchen, and you could not wait to surprise them with your early arrival. 
And surprised they were. Screams of joy and laughter echoed throughout the neighborhood as your family embraced you with overjoyed tears streaming down their cheeks. Much to your surprise, they were civil with Marc as he and your father helped bring your suitcases in, even offering that he could stay for some coffee before he politely declined. Whether he knew that your parents did not favor him as much compared to Steven, you didn’t know, but you were happy that he brought you home. 
As he walks out the front door, you excuse yourself and call his name as you quickly follow after him. 
“Thank you again for picking me up and taking me home,” you tell him as he turns around. “I wouldn’t have gotten here without you.”
He smiles softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. “Anytime, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”
You smile shyly. This wasn’t the first time he brought you home, and it reminded you of the nights he would pick you up or walk you home after class. Just like old times.
Your mind was reeling, your heart soaring as you placed the bouquet of daffodils on your desk. Despite your parent’s disapproval (and much to your dismay, too), all the feelings you thought you moved on from Marc quickly resurfaced after seeing him again. You did your best to not think about him too much while you were in Singapore, but seeing him smile at you and having him take you home, you could feel yourself falling for him all over again. 
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It took a couple weeks to adjust to being back in New York, but it was wonderful to be home. You told your parents everything about your time in Singapore and the success of your cousin’s business. Every now and then, you would call her, your aunt, and uncle to see how popular their bakery became since you left. In the background of your video calls, you would see your uncle tending to a customer in the front, or your aunt reloading a tray of green tea mochi in their display case. You missed the hustle and bustle of Singapore, but you were glad to be in the familiarity of the Big Apple with your friends and family again. 
Steven met with you first after you settled back into your routine. It was a Thursday afternoon as the two of you sat in your living room and exchanged gifts. You beamed at all the stories and anecdotes he shared with you. 
“That’s amazing!” You told him. The two of you were cross-legged on the floor as you poured him another cup of tea. “I just know the kids are going to love having you as a tour guide in the King Tut exhibit at the Smithsonian.”
Your best friend grinned, a soft red dusting his smiling cheeks. “You think so? I start on Monday. I’m so nervous! I don’t want to mess it up or bore them with all the details, but you know how much I love Ancient Egypt.”
“You’re going to do great. You make history sound so fascinating and entertaining.” You smiled reassuringly at him. “I missed hearing all your stories while I was in Singapore.”
“Well, that just means I have to do some more research for you to get you up to speed,” Steven countered, and the two of you laughed. “I’m so happy that you’re back and that I get to meet with you again. We missed you so much.”
Once again, your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Marc missing you. But you quickly dismissed the thought as soon as it came— you and Marc were friends beforehand, after all. You already spent two years away from him, surely you should have gotten a grip over your unrequited crush on a man who had no romantic feelings for you whatsoever. 
Your face must have fallen. Before you caught yourself, you found Steven’s brown eyes washing over you with concern. “You know, love, Marc told me he missed you too. I know you didn’t keep in touch with him frequently like you did with me. Are you doing okay?”
You swallowed hard as the other shoe dropped. As much as you hated to admit, it was true. Compared to the handwritten letters and postcards you sent Steven, your communication with Marc paled in comparison. You reasoned with yourself that the distance would do you good, and the only times you shared any correspondence with him were through some texts and pictures you sent via email. Like Marc, you did not have much social media, and you preferred to keep your private life private. But in the texts you both shared, they were straight-forward. You knew Marc was not fond of communicating through texts, and it was difficult to keep track of when he fronted with the time differences between New York and Singapore. Naturally, he fell through the cracks. 
It’s been a few weeks since you saw Marc, and the last time you spoke with him was when he took you home after picking you up at the airport. You weren’t avoiding him, but you also did not trust yourself around him. One look at him, and all the feelings you tried to repress would suddenly rush to the surface. 
“Does he know?” You asked, your voice quiet and hesitant. “About my feelings for him?”
You watched as Steven’s eyes softened. Whether your best friend was telling the truth, or telling you what you needed to hear to avoid hurting you, you did not know.  
“No, he doesn’t.”
You nodded, but kept your gaze on your mournful expression looking up at you through your reflection on the glossy surface. The mug grew cold in your hands, and you no longer felt the warmth and comfort of your favorite tea. 
Sensing the change in demeanor, you heard Steven clear his throat and set his mug on the table. Pulling you out of your thoughts, you glanced over at him to see a sheepish smile on his lips, his curls slightly askew. 
“If you don’t mind, can I practice my first tour with you? I have my speeches ready, and I think I need to get you caught up on what you missed.”
You vaguely felt the sting in your cheeks as you smiled at him and nodded. “I would love to hear it. Tell me everything.”
As Steven practiced his first speech and tour with you, thoughts of Marc began to fade away. All you could do was smile as you listened to your friend recite the great history of ancient civilizations over your favorite cup of tea. Your heart ached as the afternoon bled into the evening, but it was not as painful as it was before. Things were different now— you were different— as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, reminding yourself that you had to move on, for your sake.
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The days went by slowly, and soon it was summer. You smiled as the sun shined longer and the nights grew shorter, painting the sky vibrant hues of golds, oranges, and reds like a sparkling fire. You did not see Steven as often once he started his museum tours, but you always smiled at his texts. 
It was a Thursday morning when you were at home when you heard your phone chime from across the room. Expecting it to be Steven gushing about his latest tour to elementary school children, you picked up your phone without a second thought, only for your heart to stop. Marc.
You did not mean to ignore him, but your communication with him was limited in the months you returned. It was for the best, you reasoned with yourself. The distance would do you good, and for a while, you truly believed that you moved on from your unrequited crush on your friend. But just a simple text and call of his name brought you back to the sleepless nights of staining your pillow with tears. 
The rushing sound of your beating heart echoed in your ears as your fingers over the text. You couldn’t ignore him forever. He was your friend first, your heartbreak second. 
Which led you to wearing your favorite dress with your arm linked through his as the two of you walked through the busy town square of a night market. Much to your parents (and Steven’s) concern, you agreed to meet with him. 
“I haven’t talked to him since I left for Singapore,” you argued with your parents over dinner. “He was my friend first. I can’t ignore him forever.”
And honestly, you couldn’t, even if you tried. Marc was too observant, and the last thing you wanted was for him to think he hurt you. Even if your heart was breaking.
“I’m sure the food was better back in Singapore, but I thought that I could bring a part of it to you.”
You laugh softly as Marc turns to you. Seeing there was an Asian street food market in town that weekend, Marc invited you to come along. It was a way for you two to catch up since you had yet to have a full and proper conversation with him since you returned home. It was casual enough, and surely, no harm could be done. 
“It’s still home,” you assure him, and your heart swells as he smiles at you. 
How could you hate him when he still brought you joy?
“I researched what I could, but I’ll need your opinion since you’re the expert,” he teases, and you laugh again. “There’s so many choices, it’s almost overwhelming. Where do I start?”
You look around at the different vendors, booths, and trucks around the square. Even at this hour, there are so many people trying new things and enjoying the night. There really is no place like home. 
“I’ll show you one of my favorites,” you tell him. “Have you had mochi donuts before?”
“It will be my first time,” Marc smiles at you, and you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as he extends his arm to you. “Show me.”
With a pounding heart, you link your arm through his as you guide him to the booth. Thankfully the line was not long, and you had food to temporarily distract you from the emotions rising to the surface. 
The conversation began to flow into a steady rhythm as the night continued on. Two years have passed since you last stood by his side, but tonight, the memories gathered in your mind as if it were only yesterday. You found yourself laughing over the shenanigans that Marc and Steven found themselves in while you were gone, and in return, you shared stories of creating recipes and painting the town red with your cousin and her friends on sleepless nights. 
For a little while, you fooled yourself into thinking it was the two of you, just like old times. 
You sit on a bench as the night draws to a close. With his jacket around your shoulders, it takes everything in you to not pull it closer towards yourself. It may not mean nothing to him, but it means everything to you.
Across the promenade, a local college band begins to play as the strings of their guitar tunes out the noise of your beating heart. If you listen long enough, you would not have to hear your heart ache. 
After a moment, Marc takes a shaky breath beside you, his dark brows furrowed. “Can I ask you something?”
You turn to face him. “Anything.”
You watch as a soft smile spreads across his lips, but you know him long enough to know that it did not reach his eyes. 
“You’ve been different since Singapore,” he begins, and you swallow hard, fearing his next words. “You’ve been distant. Things just aren’t the same or what it used to be. I need to know—”
Your breath catches in your throat as he turns to look at you. His brown eyes were dark, filled with emotion that he seldom showed. 
“Was it something I did?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Have I hurt you?”
Marc Spector was many things— observant, perceptive— but a heartbreaker? A heartbreaker was not one of them, even if he held your broken one in the palm of his hands.
“No, Marc—” you swallow the growing ache in your chest as you reach for him. “Please don’t ever think that. You did nothing wrong.” Gently, you squeeze his hands to comfort him. 
You could not lie to him. You could not hurt him, not when he was like this. 
“Things may be different, but I haven’t changed. Not really.”
But you have, in your own way. You would like to believe you have changed and grown into a young woman, but as you smiled at him, you wondered how much you really changed when your heart fluttered at his smile. 
“You seem more grown up,” he whispers softly as he smoothes a strand of your hair. “Don’t grow up so fast that you don’t need me, kid.”
You blink, ignoring the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes at his words. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
With a comforting smile, he stretches his arm and places it around your shoulders to pull you close as his lips gently place a soft kiss on your forehead. Your heart skips a beat from his touch as the scent of his cologne envelopes you. It is so tempting to close your eyes and fall deeper into his embrace, but you fight against the heartstrings being tugged at your heart. 
In the promenade, the band transitions to a softer, romantic song with a few slow strokes of an acoustic guitar. One by one, couples gather with their partners to sway and dance along. A soft smile graces your lips as you recognize the tune. 
“This is one of my favorite Hozier songs,” you remark fondly as you remembered discovering his music for the first time. “Do you like his music—”
You look over at your friend, but stop. It was as if he was frozen in time, eyes wide as if he had seen a ghost. 
“Marc?”
He did not answer. He remains frozen, paralyzed and rooted to the spot as if he was ensnared by invisible hands. You call out to him again as you grasp his hands in yours, trying to bring him back to reality. 
Finally, his eyes meet yours, filled with nothing but pain and sorrow. 
“This song—” he stammers, his voice hoarse. His gaze flickers between you and the band as the couples in the courtyard embrace one another to the lyrics. “This song was played at my wedding.” 
Your heart sinks as you realize the significance. Layla. 
“It was your song,” you breathe as the pain in your heart begins to splinter deep inside, tearing it in two. How insensitive of you to think that he was over his first love. 
As if he was burned, Marc pulls away from you. He turns his head away, his voice low and trembling as he speaks. 
“I’m sorry, kid, but please excuse me—”
Before you could say a word, he was already walking away, leaving you alone at the bench with his jacket around your shoulders. 
Slowly, you pull your hands toward yourself. The tears that threatened you from before finally had the chance to fall, staining your cheeks with heartbreak and woe. Your heart twists as you watch the couples cradle each other as if they would fall apart without their touch. You were foolish to think that could be you and Marc one day. How could you fault him for still being in love with his first love when you still had feelings for him?
You should have said no, you scold yourself as you pull his jacket tighter around you, trying to comfort yourself with the lingering scent of his cologne and imagining that he was holding you in his arms. Tonight was a mistake, and you should have kept your distance from him. You should have listened to your parents and Steven’s words of caution, but here you were, crying alone on a bench. 
Marc saw you as nothing more than a younger sister. He was never yours. 
As you wipe the stray tears on your cheeks, you are pulled from your thoughts by a familiar handkerchief crossing your line of vision. 
Stunned, you look up and find a pair of deep brown eyes washing over you in concern. He shares the same face, but you know the difference. 
“A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t spend her evening shedding tears, conejita.”
A dry laugh escapes your lips as you accept the handkerchief. As you brush away your tears, he takes a seat beside you and whistles a low tune. 
“Marc,” you clear your throat, trying to control the wave of tears that threatened to spill over. “Is he alright?”
“He’ll be fine, he just needs some time,” Jake answers. He looks over at you with a sympathetic gaze. “I’m sorry he walked away.”
You shrug as you look down, your fingers twisting the ends of his handkerchief to numb the heartache. Even when it hurt, you could not find it in yourself to be upset with him. 
You echo his words. “I’ll be fine.”
He clicks his tongue with a shake of his head. 
“We can’t have that,” he reasons as he stands and offers his hand to you with a gentle smile. “Let’s end the night on a good note.”
You ponder his words as you look up at him. Jake shares the same face as your best friends, but is different in his own way. Steven’s eyes were bright and doe-eyed while Marc’s were darker with a storm of emotion, but Jake was different.
Looking at him now, they are deeper, but filled with a sense of warmth and familiarity that you could not explain. It bewilders you, but at the same time, it was as if you were greeting an old friend. 
Yet, there is so much about Jake that you did not know. You try not to let your worries get the best of you, but you remain hesitant and guarded at his intentions. You prefer not to know, and you would rather delude yourself into hoping he was not aware of your unrequited feelings for Marc, too. It seems everyone knows how you feel about him except the man himself. 
As if he read your mind, he reaches forward to caress your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that falls from your eyes. 
“I promise I have no ill intentions, conejita,” he comforts you with a gentle smile. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Your cheeks grow warm. “I don’t know you very well.”
He chuckles softly at you. “I promised I would show more of myself to you when you returned. Let me fulfill that promise.”
You remembered that night when he found you crying on the steps outside of his apartment before you left for Singapore. It felt so long ago, but it also felt as if it were yesterday. 
With a sheepish smile, you accept his hand. “Lead the way.”
You allow him to guide you to the promenade with your hand in his. After a moment, he pulls you close with one of his hands settling on your back, the other holding yours as he begins to sway to the music. You follow his movements with one hand on his shoulder as the other was laced with his, keeping you connected to him. 
You were not much of a dancer. For most of high school, you opted out of homecoming and only attended prom during your senior year, but even then, you were with friends. You never slow danced with anyone except your father whenever he played the old romantic love songs from his homeland in the kitchen on Saturday mornings.
An apology immediately falls from your lips as you accidentally step on his feet. “I’m so sorry—”
He tucks a finger under your chin, guiding you to look at him. 
“Eyes on me,” he whispers. “Follow my movements. Pretend it’s just the two of us.”
Slowly, you nod, keeping your eyes on him as you follow his steps. Your cheeks feel warm from the contact, but you elect to ignore it. You could only imagine how you looked. 
“When did you learn how to dance?” You ask him curiously. You did not want to say it, but you were surprised to see that he was a natural dancer. 
“I’m a man of many hidden talents, and I am not one to reveal my secrets.”
You could not help but laugh at his answer as he grins playfully at you. He was always an enigma. 
“Well, whoever taught you must have been a wonderful teacher,” you compliment him with a small and shy smile. “And whoever you danced with had a lucky partner.” 
Jake laughs softly as he twirled you. Once you face him again, he smiles. 
For the first time, you feel something foreign tug at your heartstrings. In the glimpses you have seen of Jake Lockley, you knew very little about him, but you knew enough to know he only revealed his true self to a select few.
Perhaps this time, you would finally meet the man in the front seat through the window in-between.
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The ride home was quiet, but the silence was not suffocating. The city lights blurred past you as Jake hummed and whistled along to the Spanish melodies that played on the radio. Some songs you were familiar with from the playlists that Steven and Marc would often share with you. There were times when you asked them to teach you the language so you could better understand the songs they would sing, and in return, you shared the music from your family’s homeland. You did not recognize the songs that Jake played on the radio, but even in your limited understanding of the language, you found comfort in the harmonies. 
Like a true gentleman, Jake walked you to your front door once he dropped you off at home. The lights were still on in the kitchen when you arrived, and you knew your parents were still awake and waiting for your return. 
“Thank you for tonight,” you turn to him as you stop at your front door. “I had a good time with you and Marc.”
Your heart aches at the thought of Marc. There was so little he shared about his divorce with Layla, and from the little you knew about it, you knew he loved her deeply. The wound in his heart had yet to close and heal, much similar to yours. 
Sensing your worry, Jake offers a reassuring smile. 
“He’ll be alright,” he reassures you. “He just needs some time to himself, but I promise you he’ll be okay. Steven and I will look after him.”
You nod. You’ve seen Marc withdraw at times, but not like this. You could still see the fear on his face— he looked as if he had seen a ghost, and you wonder if he will be able to come back.
“Did you want to come inside? I made some mochi earlier that you could take home.”
He shakes his head, but still offers that comforting smile at you. “I’ll be alright, but thank you. Can you tell your parents I said hello?”
You smile weakly at him, feeling a bit comforted by his reassurance. “I will.”
As you watch him walk back to his car, your heart begins to ache, a dagger digging into your chest and you could barely breathe. 
For a moment, he looked just like Marc. Slicked back dark hair, olive green jacket over his shoulders, and that soft, gentle smile. 
There was a time when Marc would bring you home like this, right after your night classes. He would walk you to the front door, his jacket over your shoulders, a protective arm around you as it was already dark once the sun had set. 
“Whenever you need me, you can call me,” he comforted you the first night you completed your night class. It was already fall with the days growing shorter and the nights growing darker, and you often called him to take you home since you felt unsafe walking across campus and waiting at the bus stop by yourself. 
“You don’t need to take me home every Thursday because I’m scared of walking alone to the bus stop at night. I can call campus police for an escort,” you told him as he opened the car door for you.
Marc shook his head and took your bag from your shoulders as you stepped in. “The buses aren’t always reliable, and I need to make sure you’re home safe.”
You began to protest, but he smiled at you as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. 
“No one can hurt you when I’m around,” he whispered. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easy, kid.”
But you did not have to do anything for Marc to leave you. How could you lose someone you loved if they were never yours?
You ignore the ache in your heart as Jake drives away, disappearing into the darkness like a dying star in the night sky. With a deep breath, you force a smile and step inside to find your parents waiting for you in the living room, eager to hear everything about your date. 
It went well, you lie. We are just friends, and my feelings for him have faded. I am no longer in love with him. 
I am no longer in love with Marc Spector, you repeat to yourself as you sit in your room, your fingers tracing the daffodil petals that you saved from the bouquet he had given you. You cherished the flowers he gifted you, but they have withered and died, their petals pressed into thin pieces you would have saved and kept near to your heart. 
You remembered sitting in the field as a schoolgirl with flowers in your hand and giggling with your friends as you sang, he loves me, he loves me not. 
You loved him, but he loves you not.
I am no longer in love with Marc Spector, you whisper, dropping the petals into the wastebasket. 
I am no longer in love with Marc Spector. 
Another petal falls, followed by the other. 
I am no longer in love with Marc Spector. 
A tear falls from your eyes as you drop the last petal, your hand empty without any trace of him. 
It was time to let him go. 
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flowerandblood · 10 months
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Sweet kiss, sweet blood (5)
[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]
[ warnings: fingering, smut, angst, kissing, drinking blood ]
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[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]
I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous and next chapters: Masterlist
_____
After what he said everyone around him froze in shock. He thought he was a goddamn imbecile. He wondered how he could say something like that without thinking, without planning. The words flew out of his mouth before he could process them.
However, he decided, surprised at himself, that he would not back down from them. He wanted to see what would happen. His gaze darted to the side, Criston stared at him enraged, his mouth pressed into a tight line. Mr. Whaterfield didn't know what to say for a moment, completely bewildered.
"But… but ser, my daughter is already engaged." He mumbled, pale, not expecting this turn of events. Aemond smirked at his words.
“As far as I know, your daughter did not agree to marry Pastor Smith.” He said low.
Mr. Whaterfield shot a quick, reproving glance at his daughter who looked down in horror. Her entire body was trembling. Aemond thought, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, that he had just given her a nervous breakdown. There was nothing he could do about it.
He had to have her for himself.
"I… everything's already settled…" Mr. Whaterfield said uncertainly, but Aemond cut him off mid-sentence.
"I don't want her dowry. I don't lack money. I have properties in several towns and villages. I can give you one as a summer residence. I will gladly introduce you to the salons in London. You can even meet the royal family there. Consider my proposal together with your daughter. Have a nice day." He said succinctly, as he put the top hat on his head and started walking towards his horse.
Criston followed him in shock, bidding everyone a quick goodbye. He caught up with him after a while on horseback, blocking his way, looking at him enraged.
"Have you completely lost your mind? What did you not understand about my request not to pay attention to us? Now the whole Mantfield will gossip about us!" He growled, enraged, his vampire fangs gleaming in the sun. Aemond was not impressed. He thought maybe it was better.
“Proposal is a human thing.” He grunted low, looking away, unfazed. Criston laughed at his words, looking at him in disbelief.
"Are you mad? Are you going to marry her?" He asked amused, coming closer to him. "When are you going to tell her she won't have children with you? That you won't share the autumn of your life with her because you'll never grow old? That instead of soup for dinner you'd be happy to suck the blood from her neck?"
Aemond stared at him with pursed lips. He skirted him on horseback, moving unhurriedly towards his mansion. Behind him, he heard a loud, drawn-out sound of rage escape from Criston's mouth.
"You bastard!" He shouted after him.
Aemond had never been so eager for night to fall. Criston didn't speak to him, locked in his bedroom. He decided that was even better. He had hoped that Miss Whaterfield would come to the chapel, if only to talk to him about his proposal. He had to be alone with her, he felt that he couldn't take it anymore.
In the evening he was sitting on the sill again, looking out the window. His whole body was tense with anticipation and desire. He felt his manhood harden at the thought of her, standing in front of him again in her nightgown. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from touching her this time.
From tasting her.
He froze as he saw a warm glow of light in the undergrowth. His mouth parted, his breath quickening, as he saw her figure slowly emerge from behind the trees, heading for the chapel.
He got up at once, wearing nothing but nightgown tucked into black trousers and boots. He wanted to see her as soon as possible. He practically ran through the park. He felt himself pumped up by some strange, unknown energy.
As he entered, Miss Whaterfield gave him a sharp look, pulling the shawl that was wrapped around her shoulders more tightly around her. She frowned and pursed her lips at the sight of him.
"You're an impudent bastard." She said angry, desperate, hurt. "You think you can just come and buy me?"
She stared at her intensely, his jaw clenching at the unpleasant tone of her voice. He narrowed his eye, his gaze dangerous, glittering. She swallowed at the sight, taking a step back.
“I had to make your father an offer. He is a materialist who deeply believes in God and will do what is more profitable to him. Is he not?” He asked, and she shuddered at his words, her gaze full of pain. He knew, looking at her, that though she didn't want to admit it, she agreed with him.
"My opinion doesn't matter?" She asked quietly, pressing her lips together. He took a step closer to her, but she took a step back toward the altar.
“Your opinion is of the greatest importance. He's just not to interfere." He grunted, as he took another step toward her like a wolf lurking among lingers on a deer. He decided he wasn't going to let her slip away this time.
He will enclose her in his claws and devour her.
She swallowed hard, her hands tightening on the fabric of her shawl as she stepped back again, her back suddenly hitting the stone altar bench. She stared at him with wide eyes.
"I'm not going to marry you. Nor pastor Smith. You both deserve each other." She whispered, her lip quivering slightly, her eyebrows twisted in pain.
Aemond pursed his lips at her words, feeling as if a needle had been driven into his body. He didn't like the feeling. He smiled menacingly, animally, finally standing over her, looking down at her.
“Say one word and I will leave. You will never see me again.” He purred, looking at her expectantly.
He saw her whole jaw quiver, her body shivering, but not from the cold. He saw the hesitation in her gaze, the pain, and something else. He thought with satisfaction that she was a complete mess.
"Say it." He hissed, coming so close to her that their bodies were practically touching. She breathed raggedly, terrified, looking pleadingly at him, tears welling up in her eyes.
She didn't want it.
She didn't want him to leave.
She drew in a sharp breath and shivered as he ran his cold fingers over her cheek. His thumb parted her lower lip slightly, revealing her fleshy, soft, pink texture. He waited for her to tell him to stop, but she couldn't make any sound.
He could feel how fast her heart was beating, how intensely her hot blood was pumping all over her body. He thought that a moment more and he would taste her, sink his fangs into her neck.
He wanted to try something else with her first.
His free hand touched her thigh, hidden under her nightgown. He felt her shudder, gasping for breath, looking at him imploringly, terrified. His fingers lifted the thin fabric of her chemise, brushing over her warm skin, gliding up to her buttocks. He heard her swallow hard, her mouth parted in disbelief.
"I'm going to touch you there. I won't hurt you." He whispered low, looking at her with determined, thirsty eye.
Her lips parted wider in a helpless moan as his hand slid between her warm thighs. His fingers ran over her hot, juicy entrance, throbbing and quivering. He sighed at the sensation, his mouth gaping in delight at her condition.
Her hand tightened on his arm, as if to hold him back, but there was no certainty in that grip. He rested his forehead against hers, looking at her softly.
"Easy." He murmured, his fingers starting to glide painfully slowly in a circular motion around her pearl, spreading her wetness over her throbbing skin.
She moaned softly, surprised and terrified by the pleasure that his touch brought her, her thighs trembling all over. Her grip on his arm loosened, her breathing quickened. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her nipples peeking out from under her chemise, hard and perky. He licked his lips at the sight.
"Just like that. Let me take care of you." He whispered.
He leaned lower and brushed his cold lips against hers, full, soft, hot, swollen with desire. His fingers between her thighs quickened their movements, pressing her harder. His other hand from her cheek slid down and tightened in her hair.
He kissed her greedily, almost animal, sucking her lips, wetting them with his saliva and tongue, making her moan sweetly into his mouth.
Her hands tightened on the material of his chemise, the sensation making it increasingly difficult for her to stand on her feet. A short, low moan escaped his throat as he felt her thighs part slightly for him.
He kissed her long and sticky, their lips wet with their shared liquids. Her scent made his head spin, he could feel her blood pulsing through her veins, all for him. His manhood was all hard.
He sped up the caresses, feeling that he wouldn't last much longer. His finger, massaging her clit began to tease her entrance from time to time.
She moaned helplessly into his mouth, shivers of pleasure ran down her spine as she felt it, not taking her lips off of him. He slid the tip of his finger into her, and she froze, horrified, gasping for air.
"Shhh. It's okay." He purred reassuringly, sliding his finger deeper into her, his nose brushing over hers.
They both gasped as he pushed him all the way in, then began to slide him in and out with the loud, wet, shameless click of her moisture. He felt her fleshy, hot structure tighten around his finger.
He knew, more or less, where every woman's pleasure spot was. When at last he found what he was looking for, and the tip of his finger began to press on that wonderful point, Miss Whaterfield began to moan louder, her body convulsing in search of fulfillment. He suspected that she had never touched herself before and did not know what was happening to her.
"Hold on just a little longer. It will be over soon." He whispered tenderly, feeling her walls tighten around his finger faster and faster, his mouth greedily pressing and caressing hers.
She gasped and moaned helplessly in front of him, burying her face into his, her nose brushing his cheek, seeking comfort, feeling something coming.
"I…please…" She mumbled in horror, her eyes cloudy, her mouth parted wide in a deep, ragged breath, her heart beating like crazy.
As she felt an unexpected, intense wave of unfamiliar pleasure rush through her suddenly, she threw her head to the side in embarrassment, squeezing her eyes shut and moaning sweetly, holding the fabric of his chemise tight, rising and falling on his finger.
"Just like that. You've done so well." He purred contentedly, kissing her temple.
He felt the waves of orgasm coursing through her body, his finger still moving deep inside her. His lips moved lower, down her cheek, to her neck. He parted his lips, feeling the pulse of her artery under his fangs.
"Do not scream." He said softly and dug into her soft, hot skin. He took one sip, then a second, then a third.
Pleasure clouded her mind for a moment, numbing her to any pain. She didn't know what was happening to her, her body froze completely in silent terror and horror.
The taste of her made him shiver all over, his breathing quickening. Her blood was like her kisses, sweet and juicy, deliciously filling like no other that he had ever tasted. He took another sip and pressed his fingers hard into her hair. He promised himself four sips, no more.
He didn't want to kill her.
He broke away from her with difficulty, his fangs sticking out, trembling all over, feeling that instead of quenching his thirst he only made it stronger. He ran his tongue over here neck where there were now two small holes. Her blood was slowly dripping right onto her white nightgown.
He lifted his face, streams of her blood flowing from the corners of his mouth which he licked off with his tongue. She stared at him, her mouth and eyes wide open in a mixture of sensation, pleasure, pain and horror, making her eyes roll back. Her body suddenly go soft, and she slumped in his arms.
She passed out.
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Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondsfavouritebastard @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @bellameshipper
Others: @talesofoldandnew @toodlesxcuddles @padfooteyes @iloveallmyboys
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goldenchainhoney · 11 months
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tell me you love me in private | kth - chapter one
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summary: another summer, another three months spent at your favourite place; your family's summer resort. expecting nothing but the usual summer activities, you are taken aback when a new visitor staying at the resort shakes up not just your summer, but potentially your whole life.
pairings: idol!taehyung x f!reader
warnings: smut, age gap (tae is 27, reader is 19), angst, fluff, tae and reader can't communicate well.
word count: 6.3k
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the images flashing across your closed eyelids abruptly stopped as you awoke from your slumber, feeling the sharp sting from the sun in your eyes as you opened them. it was suki. you leaned back on your elbows, blocking the sun from your eyes as you looked down at her. she was barking at you, the sound barely audible through the music in your ears, but clearly enough to shake you out of your dreams.
sighing, you unplugged your headphones and took them out, pausing the music on your phone as you raised an eyebrow at the excited little pup at your feet. assuming she just wanted a buddy to play with you stood from the tanning bed and adjusted your bikini, only to be interrupted.
"y/n!" you turned your head to your mom, stood by the beautifully set dining table on the patio by the back entrance of the house. she was quite a distance away from your location - the garden - but you were still able to see the freshly squeezed orange juice and lemonade set out on the dining table, stored in shiny glass bottles. the table was otherwise set with a variety of delicious pastries and fruits; croissants, danishes, éclairs, peaches, cherries, apples - all plucked from the orchard not far away from your location. you ruffled suki's fur as your mom waved you over; "our new guest's just arrived! come and say hi."
you felt your heart beat a little faster. it wasn't like it was your first time having guests visit from foreign countries - after all that was kind of the point. you just weren't the best at meeting strangers. especially strangers you couldn't understand. hopefully this visitor was a little better at english than your last one - she seemed nice and all, but it had been hard to get to know her. not that you tried all that much, but at least you'd listened when your parents had conversations with her. she had only been here for a little while though, whereas this visitor was supposed to stay here for the entire summer.
the only thing you could really say you knew about this stranger so far was that he was from korea. and that he's a musician, or at least you thought that's what he was.
you made your way up the stairs from the garden to the patio, opening the backdoor your mom had just walked in from leading to the kitchen, no one anywhere to be found. your guess was that everyone was in the front yard already greeting the stranger, but you figured his first impression of you shouldn't be of you in your bikini. you tsk'ed at the front door, turning to run up the stairs and into your bedroom. you found a fresh set of clothes, or as fresh as they were when you'd last thrown them onto your bed; a basic white crop top with some boring denim shorts. not too crazy of a fashion choice, but you were in a hurry after all. and it's not like you were trying to impress anyone. you fixed the gold jewellery already resting on your collarbones and quickly ruffled out your hair before rushing down the stairs and out of the front door.
your mother and sister were the first to spot you, your dad too busy making conversation with the newcomer to notice your presence yet, although you thought you heard him say something about having practiced his korean.
your mom grabbed your chin and smoothed out the hair you'd just fixed. "mom!" you complained, trying to pull away but to no avail. she was deep in mom-mode, turning your face from one side to the other as she analysed it.
"honey, you're all sunburnt! did I not tell you to wear sunscreen?" she placed her hands on her hips, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"mom, please! now's not the time." it was easy to brush her off given the fact that you were in the middle of greeting the new guest, but that didnt stop her from sending you a disapproving look before returning to the conversation. your sister sent you a look, poking a little fun at your mother's scolding, causing you to giggle a little. she giggled too, holding a hand over her mouth to try and stop herself from laughing too loudly.
you turned back to the ongoing conversation, only to find a pair of eyes staring right into yours. you felt your smile falter as you made eye contact with him. it was the first time you got to actually see his face, and wow. he was gorgeous. maybe you'd misplaced him for being a model and not a musician? because surely he was a model.
he held out his hand as he came closer to you, sending a bright smile your way. "hello, I'm taehyung. nice to meet you," he said in your language, taking you by surprise. it didn't sound very good with his broken accent and he probably only knew that one sentence, but you respected his attempt. you took his hand, warm against yours with the exception of the cool bracelet around his wrist that grazed you, and shook it as you broke eye contact multiple times. his eyes were irresistible, which was why it was so hard to keep your blood from rushing to your cheeks, hence your attempt to look anywhere but at him.
"hello," you responded, in english, just to make it easier for him. "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you too." you let go of his hand as soon as was possible, trying your best to act like an actual human being and not a socially awkward fool. you stepped back, gathering your hands in front of you as your eyes met his once more before your dad yet again started up a conversation.
"well, why don't you follow me, taehyung, and let the kids take care of your luggage?" your dad suggested, waving taehyung to follow after him. taehyung nodded and they both made their way inside.
your sister huffed, pouting as she grabbed one of the large suitcases. "why do we always have to do the hard work?" she whined, but was quickly gone with the suitcase in hand. your mother turned to you as you picked up the other suitcase.
"don't forget to use aftersun, it's for your own good. and for the love of god, apply some goddamn sunscreen. the sun can be very dangerous." she made her way back inside as she finished her sentence.
"yes mother, I understand," you replied in a fake tired voice, smiling a little at her protectiveness. you attempted to lift the suitcase, but damn that thing was heavy.
"you'll thank me when you don't get skin cancer!" and then she was gone.
you sighed, taking a deep breath before lifting up the suitcase for a second time, hurriedly making your way inside with it. the stairs leading up to the bedrooms were your biggest enemy, slowly making your way up the steps while having to take little breaks. how did your sister make it look so easy?
and just as the thought entered your mind, there she was, squeezing past you with a wink. you rolled your eyes, looking her way until she was out of your view. she was probably already eating away at those delicious croissants with the others in the backyard. and after that hazy nap under the hot sun, your stomach was practically screaming to be filled with some delicious food.
your newly found motivation made you hurry a little more, and before you knew it, you found yourself in taehyung's bedroom, placing the suitcase at the end of his bed, next to where your sister had put the other one. you fanned your face as best as you could with your hand, catching your breath for a moment after having walked up the stairs with his heavy luggage. what had that man packed? bricks? it sure felt like it.
a knock on the already open door to the bedroom startled you out of your overheated daze, quickly turning around at the sound. you let out a sigh of relief, placing a hand over your heart. it was taehyung.
he held his hands up, a concerned look on his face. "sorry," he said, this time speaking in english.
you shook your head and waved him off even though your heart was still beating out of your chest. "it's okay."
he nodded, walking towards you. you swallowed a lump in your throat as he approached you, not knowing what to do with yourself, when he then turned and grabbed the suitcase you'd just carried up here.
you smiled shyly, feeling your blood rush to your face again. suddenly you were thankful that your skin was already tinted red from being sunburnt. he smiled back as he opened up his suitcase on the bed.
"I for-forgot something," he explained, shying away after his attempt at the foreign words. he chuckled slightly. "sorry. my english is not good."
he fished out a pair of black sunglasses and what looked like a leatherback notebook from his suitcase. he ran his fingers through his dark locks, tilting his head back as he did so. he was such a beautiful human being, you couldn't help but to look at him. a white dress shirt clung onto his tanned skin and a pair of black pants hung onto his hips with the use of a belt. how he even managed to wear pants in this heat and not die was a mystery to you, but you couldn't deny that they looked good on him. he was close enough that you could smell his suntan lotion - at least you assumed that was it since it smelled exactly like the one they sold at your local store. coconut scented.
he turned to you then. you realised how close you were to him suddenly and stumbled back. at first you thought he hadn't noticed the close proximity, but as he turned to leave the room, a small smirk revealed itself on his face.
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"-and then all of the peaches fell from the tree, all onto little y/n's head," your father laughed, coming to the end of the third story he'd shared in the past twenty minutes. you rolled your eyes, taking a bite from the chocolate croissant in your hand. why would he tell such embarrassing stories about you to a stranger? and a handsome one at that. you sunk into your seat, wanting to disappear as he continued; "not that we had much chance to stop it from happening. after all, y/n was the one shaking the tree like crazy! it was like she was begging for it to happen." he put his hand over his belly as he laughed it off, taehyung sitting beside him joining in on the laughter. he seemed immersed in the story, but all you could hope was that he didn't understand much of it.
"cut y/n some slack, honey. you forgot to mention this happened years ago, when she was only nine," your mother added, placing a hand on your fathers arm.
"oh, calm down, would ya? I'm just having some fun with our new guest. besides, it's not like it would be unlikely to happen even now. she's still my crazy little girl." your dad sent you a wholehearted smile, before grabbing his pastry and taking a big bite out of it. your parted your lips, glancing next to him to see taehyung already staring at you. you wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
seeking an escape, you stood up, turning on your feet to leave. "I'm gonna go chill a bit by the pool with my trusty friend," you announced, holding up the book you'd grabbed from your bedroom before you came out here. forgetting that taehyung of course couldn't understand you, you considered translating for a split second, before deciding against it.
"please, y/n, don't stay out in the sun for too long. did you remember that sunscreen?"
you fished out the bottle of sunscreen you'd kept in your pocket and held it up for your mother to see in response without turning to see her reaction.
you placed your book on the sand-coloured tiles by the pool, kicking off your flip flops before applying the sunscreen to your skin. you made sure to cover every inch of your skin just for your mother's satisfaction, even though you struggled a bit when it came to covering your back.
you couldn't wait to get a dip in the pool. being out in the sun for only a couple of minutes was already killing you. you reached under your shirt, peeling it off your body and placing it on the stone bench built up against the ledge of the pool. your shorts followed right after. luckily you'd kept your bikini on, knowing you'd be taking off your clothes again later to enjoy the weather.
you sat down on the stone ledge, legs dipping into the pool. the water was already cooling you down even though it only reached up to your knees. you fetched your book from beside you, opening it up from where you left off. it was a book you'd read years ago, but you could barely even remember what it was about, so you figured you'd give it another read. all you could remember was that you'd really enjoyed reading it, but who knew. now that you were older, maybe you'd look at it differently.
you reached for your earbuds, plugging them into your ears and connecting the wire to your phone. you unpaused your music and let the playlist continue as it was. the soft breeze floated around in the air, blowing loose strands of hair into your face every once in a while. you found it a little annoying but it also made it easier to withstand the harsh sun. you sat there for a while, peacefully enjoying the atmosphere whilst letting your thoughts wander once in a while.
suddenly, you felt ice cold water roll down your back. letting out a shriek, you twisted your body away from the sensation. pulling out your earbuds, you were met with laughter from the predator behind you, and you twisted around to confront the felon.
"tobi!" you seethed, placing your book beside you as your bubble of peace had officially been popped. tobi continued laughing, clapping his hands together as he plopped down beside you. he swung a wet arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him in a playful manner.
"oh, I'm sorry, y/n! I honestly thought you'd enjoy a little cooling down." he grinned at you with a straight row of white teeth, his eyes shining with joy. you pushed him off of you, but couldn't help but smile along with him. he just had that effect on people. you were sure that he could get away with stabbing children if he just said he didn't mean to do it. not that he'd ever do such a thing.
you'd met tobi last year, when his family was staying over at the resort. his dad and yours had become good friends over the years, so as of last year he allowed them to stay at the resort whenever they wanted. you'd spent most of the summer with him - surfing on the beach, biking around town, swimming in the pool or tanning by it. there wasn't a single day where you didn't see each other. when you had to go back to school again, you honestly thought you wouldn't see him for a long time. that this was his excuse to finally be done with you, not that you would blame him for that. you had wondered all summer how you managed to be friends with him. but then you just settled with the fact that a guy like tobi could befriend just about anyone. besides, he didn't cut you off after that summer. he'd always text you and figure out which days you were free to hang out again, and so you continued spending time together. finally, you stopped feeling like he was only friends with you because of your dads, and appreciated that you'd made a friend like him.
"you're the worst," you said, but you both knew you didn't mean it.
he reached over and picked up the book you'd been reading. "'lolita'? isn't this book about, like, a pedophile?" he asked, brushing a thumb over the heart-shaped sunglasses on the cover.
you snatched the book out of his hands, drying off where his wet fingers had been. "it's much more than just that. if you actually read a book once in a while maybe you'd know."
he put a hand to his bare chest and tried looking as offended as possible. "I'd have you know that I do read! they've got to keep me busy in school somehow."
you rolled your eyes playfully and set your book next to you again. "did you come here just to poke fun at me?" you asked. not meaning for it to sound like you didn't want him here, you smiled at him.
he smiled back, blue-green eyes looking almost supernatural in the sun. "not everything's about you, missy." he poked you in the ribs jokingly, but the words still stung a little. "I came to greet the new visitor, of course! after all, I can't wait to be his personal tour guide to our beautiful hometown."
you splashed water at him, aiming for his golden locks but instead hitting his cheek. "I'm sure he's gonna love that." you said it in a sarcastic way, but really, you meant it. tobi was perfect for that kind of thing. still, you were a bit disappointed he hadn't come here just to see you.
he smirked for a second and said; "you better watch what you say. someday you'll piss off the wrong kind of people," before pushing you into the pool.
you went under with a splash, flailing to reach the surface. when you did, you were just about ready to murder him, but he'd already jumped in after you. you felt a pull at you ankle, and before you knew it, you were underwater again. you shoved at his chest under the water, but he simply just pulled you to him, pushing you both to the surface.
you gasped for air, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes. you heard him before you saw him, that laugh of his only making you more furious. you growled, flinging yourself at him only to be stopped from punching him when his hands grabbed ahold of your arms. you glared at him, but he just gave you a knowing smile.
he slowly let go of you, moving his hand up to brush a stray hair from your face, letting his thumb graze over your wet cheek as he did so. your face went slack, all traces of anger disappearing. what was happening?
his smile slowly went away, eyes dropping to your lips. suddenly, you noticed your close proximity, your hands resting on his chest. licking his lips, he leaned closer, but before he had the chance to do something he was surely gonna regret, you placed both of your hands on his head and pushed him under the surface.
you laughed as you made your escape towards the pool ledge, his angry protests following behind you. you lifted yourself out of the pool before he had the chance to catch you, water dripping from your body as you watched him lift himself out, too.
"I'm gonna get you back for that," he swore, pointing a daring finger at you. you giggled, grabbing a towel for him and then one for you, drying yourself off and wringing out your hair.
"I'd like to see you try," you teased. he whipped his head around like a dog, water from his hair splashing you before you had the chance to cover yourself.
"just you wait, y/n," he mumbled threateningly, but then smiled that charming smile of his and it was like that moment in the pool never happened.
"tobias? is that you?" you turned your head to see your mother waving the two of you over.
"hello mrs. y/l/n! you look young as ever." he kissed her cheek as you reached where she stood in the backyard. you looked behind her to see the dining table abandoned and cleared of what was once there. for a second you wondered where your new guest had gone, before focusing on the conversation again.
"oh, stop it. you, on the other hand! I almost didn't recognise you, you looked so grown." tobi shrugged her off, but stood a little taller after your mother's compliment. it was true - he'd gotten at least twice as big as he was last summer, packing on some muscle in all the right places. his change in appearance was obvious. “you arrived just in time!"
your mother fumbled around with a stack of papers on the table, lifting the pages and putting them aside until she found what she was looking for. impatiently, you crossed your arms and asked her; “just in time for what?”
she turned back to you, handing tobi the paper with a sweet smile. “tobi is gonna show our new guest around town. isn’t that right, tobi?”
tobi snatched the paper from her hand, folding it out to reveal its contents; a map. he bowed as if he’d just put on a lifetime of a performance and put on a smile that reached his eyes. “that’s right. I’ve waited my whole life for this.”
you rolled your eyes at his dramatics, grabbing a glass from the table and filling it with water, knowing that if you didn’t stay hydrated in weather like this you’d just about pass out.
your mother laughed. “y/n, why don’t you join them? I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
tobi turned to see your response, eyes practically begging for you to join them. you almost felt a little bad that you had to turn the offer down, but you just weren’t in the mood to bike around, sweaty and smelling like sunscreen. especially when you already felt worn out from the sunshine. besides, going with them meant having to chat with taehyung. not that you didn’t want to, you just knew it was for the best for him not to know how socially awkward you were. if he didn’t already think it after your not-so-meet-cute in his bedroom, he’d definitely think it if he spent more time with you. all you really wanted to do was take a nap.
“sorry, I’m just not up for it today.” you downed the rest of your water to try and distract yourself from seeing the disappointment on tobi’s face. “I think I’m gonna take a nap. but I’ll see you later,” you said, turning to go inside through the kitchen. you waved goodbye to tobi before making your departure.
when you entered the kitchen, your sister was by the sink doing the dishes. you placed your glass into the dishwasher, giving her a coy smile as you slipped out of the room before she could complain about you not helping out.
you jogged up the spiralled stairs, and the second you reached your bedroom you flopped onto your bed with a sigh. somehow your soft mattress and fluffy pillow always managed to make you realise how exhausted you'd been the second you lay down on your bed.
for a couple of minutes you found yourself regretting not going with tobi. not because he’d been sad you didn’t go, and not because it would’ve made him happy to be in your company. in fact, your regret had nothing to do with him. weirdest of all was that it was taehyung. it was him you were thinking of when you regretted your decision. him and that moment in his bedroom. but your regret only lasted for those few minutes, and before you could contemplate it, you were fast asleep.
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when you woke up you were met with the sound of cicadas coming from outside. you knew then, that it must’ve been sometime in the late afternoon. you rolled over, stretching out your body before sitting up in your bed. the nap had definitely helped, but now you were dying for a glass of lemonade to quench your thirst.
you made your way down the staircase, entering the kitchen and searching the fridge for the freshly squeezed juice. still in a bit of a haze, you only noticed the laughter and chatter coming from the patio after you’d poured yourself a glass. looking over at the sink, you saw recently used pots and pans stacked on top of each other. the oven was still hot and the house smelled like rosemary.
you stepped out onto the patio where everyone else was already sitting. dinner was laid out on the dining table; fettuccine alfredo, minestrone soup and rosemary garlic foccacia bread along with black and green olives and marinated garlic on the side. you almost drooled at the sight.
"hey! saved you a seat." tobi smiled as he spotted you, waving you over. he pulled the chair out for you and you sat down with a small "thank you". he sat back down on his seat next to you and continued eating. your mother grabbed your plate and started piling food onto it while keeping the conversation going.
you glanced a look over at taehyung, expecting him to be fully indulged in the conversation with your mom and dad, but instead you found that he was already looking at you. it was not a warm gaze he held, rather a cold one that held no trace of emotion. you wondered what you’d done to piss him off, for him to be looking at you in such a cruel way. you looked away before he had the chance to make you feel worse, hoping he'd stop looking your way when you did.
instead, you chose to focus on your plate in front of you, thanking your mother for serving you your food. you silently began eating as you tried tuning in to the conversation. but it was impossible to focus. throughout dinner, you couldn't help but look in taehyung's direction, waiting to see if you'd meet his cold eyes once more. to see if he was still mad at you, for reasons you didn't even know. it was unfair. you started feeling angrier and angrier as he continued ignoring you for the rest of the night. what could you have possibly done to make him look at you that way? you thought back to earlier in the day, but you couldn’t recall acting rudely towards him.
you watched as he listened to your parents talk, laughing at their stupid jokes you'd heard about a thousand times whenever they'd told them to previous visitors. you wondered how much of it he understood. for a second, you thought you'd imagined how he'd looked at you. that you were reading too much into things. and maybe you were. or maybe you weren't. either way, all of your questions remained unanswered.
later, you and tobi biked to the ice cream parlour that was close by. you watched the sun go down as you sat on the grass under a blossoming olive tree, enjoying your gelatos. tobi had asked if you wanted a taste of his, feeding you a big scoop with his pink plastic spoon. you’d giggled when a string of melted ice cream dribbled down your chin, wiping it off before he had the chance to.
you had wanted to ask what happened when him and taehyung had rode through town on their bikes. what kinds of things they'd talked about. had tobi said something about you to make taehyung not like you? was that it? but you couldn’t imagine tobi would do such a thing. not that you’d know, because you never asked him how it went, and he never told you.
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the next day, you decided it was the perfect morning for some alone time on the balcony. you had always been lucky that your room was one of the ones leading out to a balcony. one of your favourite things to do when waking up this early was sitting by the small round table and enjoy the silence that one couldn't find on any other time of the day.
but as you sat down at the table, ready to indulge in some sketching, your heart skipped a beat when you spotted taehyung across from you, on the balcony next to yours. you'd forgotten there was also one attached to his room, and then felt stupid for forgetting. he was standing by the railing, already looking at you when he puffed out smoke from the cigarette he was holding. you didn't know how long you just sat there staring - minutes? seconds? -, but in your defence, you weren't used to having a neighbour. not for a long time, anyway.
you remembered this one girl, who'd stayed here for only a week's time, and she'd always be out on that very balcony taehyung stood on, smoking, reading, talking on the phone. you couldn't recall her name or what country she'd been form, but she had seemed nice enough. at least that's what you'd gathered from your little chitchats out here.
you watched him suck on the bud of the cigarette, inhaling its deadly contents, before blowing out a cloud of smoke once again. and, to your surprise, he spoke to you. “good morning.”
"good morning." you were nervous. of course you were. after yesterday you just assumed he''d never want to talk to you, but here he was, talking to you like it was routine.
he eyed your pyjama set and then the sketchbook in front of you. he put out his cigarette in the glass ashtray placed on the table of his balcony. "you draw?"
it was a question, but the way he said it made it sound more like a statement. "not really. well, I-" you cut yourself off. you did draw, but it was kind of your little secret. a hobby of yours no one really knew about. sure, maybe someone'd caught you penning away on your sketchbook when you were sitting in the shade, but you'd never told anyone. you didn't want anyone to put their judgement onto your drawings and doodles, and it would kill you to have to feel like you had to be good at it. you knew you'd start feeling that way if people knew. "it's nothing."
he nodded, placing his hands in the pockets of his pants. those pants, the colour of the cappuccino you'd be enjoying in a few minutes. how were they not killing him in this heat? he wore an outfit similar to yesterday - the same style, but just slightly different. still adorning a dress shirt, but this time it was a creamy beige instead of plain white. his sunglasses hung from the v it formed down his chest.
it was silent for a little while. you didn't know what to say and you didn't know how much he would understand, so you settled for silence. you figured he was doing the same. but then he opened his mouth, as if to speak, but it wasn't his voice you heard, it was your sister's;
"y/n!" you snapped your head to where she stood in the doorway to your bedroom, already dressed for the day. you threw a small glance at taehyung before you went to her. what had he been about to say? the thought of not knowing killed you. "hey, I need you to do me a favour," she said, taking a seat on the foot of your bed. she seemed chirpy.
"what is it?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. you never knew what she was up to.
"well, you see, I was supposed to go with aunt cecilia and our cousins to pluck fruit from the fruit trees while they're still good enough to eat, but... you remember jeremiah? well, he asked me out today and I really, really want to go, sissy. you know how sweet he is!" your sister was giddy with joy, so much so she was twirling a finger around a free strand of hair, probably without being aware of her actions.
you tilted your head to the side, feeling more so confused than worried about this "favour" of hers. "and what does this have to do with me? surely aunt c. and the twins can manage a couple of fruit trees on their own for a day?"
she winced, dropping her carefree hand to her lap with a pout. "mom said they called today. they have the flu or something, so they're not gonna be able to make it. please help me out here? I really want to spend the day with jeremiah, and you're not busy, are you?" as she talked she thumbed at the fabric of her dress.
you sighed. "and you can't just pick the fruit trees on a different day?"
"we've already postponed it because we had to prepare for our visitor, - taehyung, was it? otherwise the fruit will go bad, and you know how mom feels about wasted food." she bit her lip, looking up at you with pleading eyes. "please? I'll even get you something from the market in town!"
"alright, alright. I'll do it," you complied, and she jumped up from her seat on your bed and threw her arms around you.
"thank you! thank you! you're the best." when she pulled away from you she was practically so ecstatic she was levitating, smile so big that it lit up her entire face. before you could respond, she was dashing out of the door, the last you saw of her being her dress flowing behind her.
you shook your head slightly but couldn't help but to smile at your sister's antics. but at her departure you remembered what you'd been doing before her arrival, mastering up the courage to go out on the balcony again to continue your short-lived chat with taehyung. but when you stepped out on the balcony, he was already gone.
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when you walked out on the patio your mother was sitting by the dining table, having tea with some friends. you recognised them from the other times they'd visited and greeted them with a wave, walking over to them.
"good morning, honey. there's breakfast for you inside," your mother said, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back. you smiled, relieved that there was still some left for you. you'd gotten a little too carried away with drawing, you hadn't noticed it was close to noon already.
"thanks, mom. I'll be popping by the orchard instead of y/s/n sometime today, just so you know," you told her, grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruit placed on the table.
"oh, alright. will you be going alone?"
you bit into your apple, enjoying the juiciness of it. sweet, a little sour, but not too much. you nodded; "since aunt c. can't make it."
your mother furrowed her brows for a second, before smiling at you again, squinting her eyes from the sun.
you ate breakfast in the garden, entertaining yourself by people-watching. everyone staying at the resort, or acquaintances of the sort, was enjoying the nice weather, either lounging by the pool, swimming in it or finding comfort in the shade. suki was resting by your feet, and you fed her what you couldn't eat of your breakfast.
when you were leaving for the orchard, you made sure to pack a bag of essential things, just in case you wanted to go somewhere afterwards. on your way to get your bike you stumbled across martha, the person responsible for creating the delicious meals you ate at the resort. without a doubt the person who'd cooked your breakfast this morning.
"oh, hi martha! what are you doing out here?" you asked, placing your bag of things in the basket attached to your bike. you unlocked it and moved it away from the wall it had been parked against.
"hello, sweet y/n. I was just talking to the new visitor. he wanted to know how to get to the orchard so he could help out, the kind young man," she explained, clasping her hands together. you looked around, but there was no trace of the man she was talking about.
"you mean taehyung? how did he know to go there?" you didn't know what shocked you more - the fact that he knew help was needed there, or that this meant you were going to be spending the day there with him, picking fruit from trees. it made you feel all sorts of things - dread, excitement. you tried forcing your emotions down. you had to remain calm, otherwise you knew you'd just end up embarrassing yourself.
"I don't know - he did not tell me," she shrugged, pushing your hair out of your face as you mounted your bike.
"oh, okay then." you smiled at her and waved goodbye, kicking off the gravelled path with the help of your foot. you took your time getting there, biking slowly so as to not sweat like a pig upon your arrival.
you wondered why, even if taehyung knew that there was a lack of help at the orchard, he would go there by free will. was he really just so kind as to spend his precious vacation helping out at a resort he was paying to stay at? you thought back to the way he'd looked at you yesterday. you wondered what it had all meant, seeing as there was no sign of hostility from him on the balcony this morning. and then you wondered why you kept wondering about him.
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everscorner · 5 months
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The Genesis Of You
You met him in the winter, in Germany. You were in Dortmund, on vacation with a group of girlfriends. On the first night, you all decided to go out for dinner, and at the restaurant, you captured the attention of the famous footballer. He was there with his own group of friends. Someone at Jude’s table took a liking to one of your friends, and naturally approached her. By the end of the night, your groups had merged, and very quickly, you and Jude hit it off. You stuck together for the rest of the night, and somewhere during that, you exchanged IG handles, but of course, it was his finsta. He did that to avoid drawing attention from eagle-eyed fans, who closely watched his IG activity. A few DMs, and a video call later, he invited you to come watch his team play at Signal Iduna Park—you said yes. 
Not only did you meet his mother that night, but it turned out to be one of the best nights of your life. Dortmund won, and to celebrate the victory, the two of you went out for dinner … alone. It was romantic, and you were so charmed by him. He was funny, but most importantly, he was easy to converse with. He wasn’t at all what you would expect a famous athlete to be, and you liked that the most about him. Towards the end of the night, you both admitted to liking each other and agreed that you enjoyed each other’s company, but time wasn’t on your side. You were in Dortmund for only a week, and already your friends were butthurt about you ditching them to watch a football game they weren’t invited to. So you agreed to keep it casual, see where it takes you. You hung out a couple more times before you went back home. 
You kept in contact via DMs and video calls, but you wouldn’t see him again until late December. After England was eliminated from the World Cup, Jude was feeling pretty dejected and asked you to come visit him in Germany. It was a lot of work rearranging your schedule at the last minute, but you made it work. A few days later, you were in Dortmund with him again, and it was like you had never left. You could only spend a week, and in that time, the two of you fell in love. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend on a romantic night out, and later that night, you consummated your relationship. You spent the next couple of months between your home country and Germany with Jude, you had both agreed to keeping your relationship away from the public, so it made it easy for you to attend matches undetected. You would come and go to matches in a separate car, and when you were out in public together, you tried to keep it casual. 
There were instances where you were almost caught, like the time you were in England, and the two of you were out shopping—his treat. Having grown used to your anonymity in Dortmund, you were very affectionate with each other, and the cat was almost let out of the bag after a group of his fans spotted him out and about. Very quickly, you were swarmed by them, and to avoid having to answer awkward questions, you assumed the role of his assistant. After that incident, you agreed to limit the PDA in larger cities. The incident also made you realise how much you appreciated having your relationship out of the limelight, because it meant it could be without public scrutiny. 
Eventually, your families met and they got on pretty well. Towards the end of the football season, you agreed to vacation in Greece for the summer. On the flight over—private jet—Jude cheekily followed you on his main IG account, and the next morning, your follower count had grown by 1,000 followers. In the space of 24 hours, you’d gone from having 200-some followers to 2200-some followers and counting, and they would continue to grow throughout the summer. In Greece, you managed to go undetected for the first couple of days of your vacation, but you weren’t as lucky on the third night. You were having dinner with your boyfriend, when a patron at the restaurant spotted the two of you and without you realising, snapped pictures and sold them to the Daily Mail. The next morning, the picture was plastered on all the tabloids, with headlines like: ‘Jude Bellingham’s Officially Off The Market.’ 
You made the mistake of stupidly reading one of the articles, which contained very in-depth details of your romantic outing. The onlooker disclosed what the two of you were doing throughout the night and gave their unsolicited opinion of your relationship. The comment section of the article was worse, a bunch of anonymous randos, who concluded from the article that you were a ‘gold digger’ after Jude’s money. It was awful, and the whole thing felt like a gross invasion of your privacy. On your IG, your follower count kept growing and the brave fans were commenting under your most recent post, debating on whether you were the girl from the Daily Mail article or not. Most of them were nice, complimenting your appearance and begging you to not break Jude’s heart, but some were outright nasty, asking questions like, ‘what does he see in her?’ and ‘ew, her?’ and those ones really got to you. 
In the end, it only made sense to delete the app on your phone. It was the only way you’d enjoy the rest of your vacation with your boyfriend. When you redownloaded the app after your hiatus, your follow count sat at +10,000—insanity! When Jude made the move to Madrid, you made the move with him. And now the two of you are living in Madrid together, you try to keep a low profile, but it’s difficult with Jude’s growing fame.
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inlovewithregencyera · 2 months
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Elmsworth House, July 4th, 1818
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After the proposal was made and the friends and family wished their congratulations to the new couple, the party migrated to the drawing room for some entertainment before the evening was concluded. Helena asked Aurelia to enchant their guests with her refined singing and musical talents. She was reluctant at first, mainly because she hadn't sung in front of Frederick in almost two years, but she did it anyway. As Aurelia's fingers gracefully danced on the harpsichord keys, the notes that escaped her lips left Frederick enchanted by the beauty of her angelic voice. It was like a melody had echoed through the chambers of his heart. All he could do was think of was their last summer spent together, as he tried to hold back tears from the bittersweet memories they shared.
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♫♫♫!!!!
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♪That now lie sleeping, softly, softly, now softly, softly lies sleeping♪
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♪Sleep is a reconciling, a rest that peace begets♪
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♪Doth not the sun rise smiling, when fair at evening he sets♪
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♪Rest you then, rest, sad eyes♪
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♪Melt not in weeping, while she lies sleeping♪
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♪softly, softly, now softly, softly lies sleeping♪
*Loud applause*
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Ashley: Lord Worthington?
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Frederick: What, Mr. Ramsbury?
Ashley: I asked if you were alright-
Frederick: *sniffling* Why wouldn't I be?
Ashley: Well m'lord, it's just that your eyes are wateri-
Frederick: *wipes eyes* I have no idea what you were referring to Mr. Ramsbury.
Ashley: ....
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Laurence: *whispering to himself* Dearest, sweetest angel, how come you've graced this earth with your talents along with my heart. For I know I can never have you-
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As you belong to him.
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Peregrine: Oh she's done excellent.
Helena: I know! Our dear niece has a voice that would make the angels in heaven weep.
Peregrine: And Lord Worthington...
Helena: *trying not to laugh* Oh hush old man!
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Emma: Oh mama! How I wish I could sing like Lady Aurelia.
Elizabeth: You have other talents to make up for that my dear, do not fret. I'm sure your harp skills will have you married off by the end of May!
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John: Don't say that.
Elizabeth: Oh John!
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William: You should delight us next with your singing, my sweet Martha.
Martha: But I want to sit here and gaze at you and imagine our future together.
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William: We'll have a nice little townhouse in the heart of Willowfax. But during the Summer, we shall move to a country house in Henford where our children can go and visit their grandparents every day.
Martha: Oh, how grand!
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Patience: Grand indeed! *finishes wine glass in one gulp*
Ashley: My dear, that is your fifth glass! Shouldn't you retire the wine-
Patience: Only after I play my song!
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Peregrine: Patience I'm not sure that is a good idea considering the state you're in. You can barely stand up straight.
Helena: Oh dear, please do listen to Mr. Ramsbury and your husband!
Patience: Oh but ma'am, my song will ease my nerves.
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Ashley: Oh dear!
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*Frederick starts rising from his seat*
Ashley: Oh dear cousin, please, take my seat. I believe I need to be up waiting for my poor wife in case she needs my assistance!
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Frederick: *whispering* You sounded lovely.
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Aurelia: *whispering* T-thank you.
Frederick: May I speak with you later tonight?
Aurelia: Yes, yes certainly.
Frederick: Meet me in the woods, behind the house once everyone is asleep. Bring Sarah, just in case someone sees us.
Aurelia: Alright.
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This made Aurelia more anxious than usual as recurring memories came to her head once more. She and Frederick used to sneak out late during the Summer of 1816 when he was staying with their family at their summer home in Brindleton. They used to enjoy each other's company and stroll along the beach whilst holding hands. They of course could never be intimate or physical in public, as it was considered scandalous, so when they had time to themselves they would hold, and hug each other as long as they could. She had been craving his touch and embrace for the past two years, and truth be told, she still loved him. She never stopped loving him, and now that he was in her presence again she felt her love for him grow stronger than it had been once he was away.
♪♪♪
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♪Did you not hear my lady, go down the garden singing♪
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♪Blackbird and thrush were silent to hear the alleys ringing, oh saw YOU, not my lady, out in the garden there♪
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♪Shaming the rose and lily, for she is twice as fair♪
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William: Well she's slightly drunk, but this song is quite heartfelt! Her voice is exquisite, but nothing compared to your cousins.
Martha: Yes..indeed.
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from the beginning | previous | next
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withwritersblock · 24 days
Text
To Love Someone
~To Love Someone by Benson Boone~
Author's Note: just pure fluff Summary: Alex and Y/N spend their first afternoon together in their new apartment in Montreal Warnings: meh like a sentence that implies smut Word Count: 1308 Alex Newhook x fm!reader
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It was a long conversation that led to longer and even more conversations. Alex was traded to Montreal Canadiens over the summer from the Colorado Avalanche. It wasn’t a shock, Alex was given a heads up that he was most likely going to be traded. He had no idea where until he received the call. Y/N sat beside him as he spoke on the phone and found out he was heading back to Canada. In his mind it was probably the most perfect option.
It was a shorter plane ride to have his family come watch his games or to visit home during breaks. The team was young, he could fit in really well. He hated that he had to leave the team he won a Stanley Cup with. His best friend, who he won the cup with their rookie year. It was hard. One of the hardest things he’s ever done.
The next hardest thing was seeing if his long-term girlfriend wanted to move with him or go long distance.
They had been together for two years, it was the awkward time frame where either could’ve been the best option. Or ending the relationship to avoid future issues.
Y/N wanted to go with him. Of course she did. Except it terrified her. It meant that she was one hundred percent in the relationship. She was starting a life with him instead of just living their lives together.
Alex needed her to go with him. He needed one constant from his life. He wasn’t going to beg for her to come with him. He needed her to want to come with him. The conversations they had eventually led them to this moment. 
Y/N was holding the keys to their new apartment. Their apartment together in the heart of Montreal. He carried a bag of take out food with a wide smile on his face. She slowly opened it and pushed the door wide. The apartment was filled with boxes the movers dropped off the day before. 
“It looked smaller in the pictures,” she let out as she stepped inside admiring the modern interior. She never truly liked the modern aesthetic as she preferred the farmhouse style. In this moment it was everything she ever wanted with the only person she’s ever truly wanted. 
There were huge windows overlooking the city of Montreal. It was later in the afternoon and the sun was starting to set, creating a hue of orange mixed in with the blue of the sky. There were clouds in the sky that looked like cotton candy. “Wow,” she mumbled as she placed the keys on the kitchen counter before she walked through the maze of their boxes towards the large windows. 
Alex delicately placed the takeout on the counter beside the keys as he followed Y/N towards the windows. She stood still staring out of the window as Alex walked towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He looked towards the sky that was becoming more orange within the minutes of them standing inside their new home.
“You have no idea how happy I am you’re here,” he mumbled as he delicately pressed his lips against her shoulder. She smiled as she tilted her head back to meet his gaze.
“Are you nervous?” she asked him while she turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck. He tilted his head to the side, while shaking his head nonchalantly.
“Not my first time changing teams. Done the whole move across the country thing a few times now,” he explained while looking into her eyes. Her eyes squinted as she began running her fingers through the ends of his hair.
“You didn’t win the Stanley Cup with them,” she countered teasingly. He took a sharp breath while nodding.
“I’m going to miss the guys and Colorado. I loved every moment I had there but the Habs-” he paused while shaking his head. A small smile formed to his lips as his eyes began to light up. 
“The Habs want me, Y/N. I mean you see the social media stuff I have to do tomorrow. They’re excited to have me,” he explained. 
“And they should be. You’re an amazing person and a great player,” she said with a wide smile.
“And what else?” he asked, raising his eyebrows as he guided her hips backwards.
“You’re handsome,” she began and he hummed in response, “Funny, smart, and kind, and I’m done boosting your already high ego,” he slowly began biting his lip as he let out a chuckle. She rolled her eyes as she leaned towards him and kissed him softly. 
She pulled away as she met his dark brown eyes. “Come on, our poutine is getting cold,”  he said with a wide smile before he began to maneuver through the boxes towards the kitchen. Y/N let out a huff of air before dramatically rolling her eyes.
“I cannot believe you convinced me to get that,” she let out while scrunching her features together.
“Oh come on, Baby. You live in Quebec now, you have no choice but to love it,” he said while unpacking the takeout containers. She rolled her eyes as she leaned against the white granit countertop.
“I’ll try it but I won’t enjoy it,” she said as she opened up her own box staring at the fries completely covered in gravy and cheese curds.
Alex handed Y/N her own plastic fork before he instantly smashed his fork into the fries and brought it to his mouth. He took a large bite as a dramatic moan left his lips. Y/N laughed as she hesistantly took some of it on her own fork.
“Baby, just try it,” he said with a mouthful.
She ate it and surprisingly it was a lot better than she thought. She still would prefer cheese fries instead of having gravy. “Not horrible,” she mumbled as she reached for another bite. 
“See I told you,” he mumbled. She smiled towards him before she took another bite. “I love you, you know that?” he let out.
“I love you more,” she mumbled. She swallowed her bite as she shook her head, “But Canada needs to get better food.”
His eyes widened dramatically as he fought off a smile forming to his lips. “Oh and American food is so great?” he teased.
“I never said that. America is really good at stealing other countries' food,” she explained. He shook his head as he chuckled.
~~~
It was a couple hours later and they were laying on the blow up mattress, her head laying on his chest. She ran her fingers up and down his chest as his hand loosely played with the hem of her tank top.
“This thing will go flat in like two hours,” she muttered as she lifted her gaze towards his features. His lips curled upward as he shifted his gaze downward to meet her eye. He pressed his lips against her forehead.
“Of course, the one thing they didn’t drop off was the mattress,” he muttered as she sat up slightly. She looked down towards him. Her hand landed on his cheek as she slowly ran her thumb across his cheek. Tracing the stubble on his skin. He took a hold of her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “I love you,” 
“I love you too,” she mumbled as she leaned down and kissed him delicately. “I’m happy I came with you. I don’t think I could handle you being so far away,” she explained as she continued running her thumb along his skin.
His hand climbed up her back, beneath her tank top. Her skin arose in goosebumps. “Roadies were already hard enough,” he mumbled before she leaned down and kissed him a little more urgently this time.
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wisteriagoesvroom · 16 days
Note
Charlos au where carlos is a resident of a politically destroyed country and charles is a hitman and carlos needs his help to kill the politicians and restore his country and they pretend as a married couple BUT ALONG THE WAY—
i was like “oh god not more prompts” and was gonna mentally nope out of this. but THEN i had a vision of hitman/huntsman carlos paying a visit to royal charles’s accommodation — in this fantasy-ish AU charles is the heir to the kingdom that follows matrilineal lines and gender presentation is less rigid. and anyway i digress. point is:
carlos is in charles’s room, high in a castle tower. the fireplace is crackling and carlos had to fight off almost a dozen henchmen to even get here, but for now they are indispensed and unlikely to bother carlos or charles for the next several hours at least.
charles has been hiding an important diplomatic fact about his family (a freshly negotiated alliance with the hamiltons, a formidable line on their own, one of the most respected and coolly ruthless) that may alter the balance of power as they know it.
carlos is aware of that charles has this secret, that he is likely bethroed to another, because it’s a political marriage. and maybe he knows that charles knows that he also knows, so really it’s a triple bluff.
so carlos has come to the room to seduce charles and see how far he can push the other man. he leans into his heartbreaker/debonair persona and seduces the socks off charles. backing charles onto a chaise sofa, leaning into his space, eyes flickering over his body, voice all husky: “we both know you’ve wanted this, cabrón.”
“did i?” charles whispers. head tilting in carlos’s hands, jaw moving under carlos’s fingers as he speaks. carlos remembers the last time he felt this sensation. it was an injured deer he had found in the forest, before his men made the mercy kill with a knife.
“when were you going to tell me about king hamilton?” carlos asks.
what does he have that i do not? carlos doesn’t say. his mind echoes with the answers. a treasury. an army. safe harbour, fortified by unfathomable power — so much so that charles would never need to run from anything again.
charles remains very stil in carlos’s hands. he only blinks once, slowly, like a cat trying to prove it is not a threat. carlos knows better. he has travelled far from these lands, you see. he knows that there are large cats, not like here. ones that swish their tails just like kittens, but they are to be feared.
“carlos. this game is so much bigger than you could understand.”
that angers carlos. the reminder that he has been a pawn. so he leans his body over charles, pushing charles’s back into the chaise with a thump. he towers over charles, wills him to feel his hardness, his rage, his fear.
it is a corruption of the way they once laid together, summer day in a field far away, on a previous trip when he was assigned special royal guard. no entourage, just the two of them, a quick disappearance from the city in a politically fraught time. they went west, all disguised, so nobody knew charles’s name. and carlos wishes he could have just a minute of that day back. he wonders what he might do with that minute, now.
carlos leans down, and they kiss. carlos holds back at first, then doesn’t, mouth challenging charles’s, heated, bordering rough, willing him to challenge back.
charles is icy as a surface of a lake.
when they break apart, carlos is breathless. charles keeps his hands on carlos’s shoulders, but it feels mechanical, a rote dance with a nameless suitor. carlos knows charles, knows the mask he puts on when he truly retreats inside himself. for a necessary performance, for self protection. and carlos hates it.
“was any of this even real to you?” carlos spits.
charles’s eyes are open, then. and sad. embers burning through coal before it dims again.
“would it make a difference to you, if it was?”
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hockeylovee12 · 10 months
Text
My Captains Sister-Adam Fantilli
Chapter One
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Summary: After returning from a study abroad Lucy Moyle develops a crush on one of her brother’s teammates.
Lucy Moyle had just returned to Michigan after spending the first half of her sophomore year abroad and could not be more excited.
She loved her experience and wouldn’t trade it for the world but she also missed her family including her older brother Nolan Moyle who is currently captain of the University of Michigan hockey team.
She came home mid December and spent the last few weeks with her family but with the second semester starting up it was time for her and Nolan to return to Michigan.
Her parents flew out with the two of them a few days before the start of the new year to help her move all of her stuff into Nolan’s house where she would spend the rest of her year living at and a few days later she was all set and her parents flew back home.
Nolan and her are pretty close and he too couldn’t be more thrilled to have his baby sister back in town and living with him.
———————————————————————
Lucy had just finished her last class of the day and begins walking back to Nolan’s house. It was about a 20 minute walk but she made it and notices a few cars outside.
She ignores it and walks inside to see a few guys sitting on the couch with Nolan watching TV she recognizes a few of them as Nolan’s teammates from last year but some are new faces.
“Hey Luce these are just some guys from the team” Nolan says when he realizes she’s come into the house.
“You know Keato and Ethan and Mark these are a few of of the freshman that’s Adam and Luca Fantilli and Gavin Brindley and that���s Rutger McGroarty” Nolan introduces while pointing out the freshman.
“Guys this is my little sister Lucy” Nolan says there’s a few hi’s and nice to meet you but nothing else
“Hey we’re just finishing up a game then we’re gonna walk to the sports bar and grab some dinner wanna join?” Nolan offers
“No thanks I got so much homework and I should probably work on it” Lucy says
“ok good luck on it” Nolan says as Lucy starts walking to her room and shuts the door.
Nolan takes a seat back on the couch next to Keato and Gavin.
“I didn’t know you had a sister” the oldest Fantilli chirps
“ya she just got back she was studying abroad last semester” Nolan says he gets a few nods and then looks over at a few of the freshman who are sitting on the opposite couch “but she’s off limits so don’t even think about it” Nolan adds in a more serious tone.
A few of the freshman nod and put their hands up saying they got it and Nolan accepts it and the group goes back to enjoying the game.
Near the end of the game Adam gets up to refill his glass of water in the kitchen and finds Lucy as she’s filling up her water bottle.
“Hey Adam right” Lucy says
“Ya that’s me” Adam responds
“Nolan told me you played on the world Junior team for Canada you got the gold right?” Lucy asks
“ya ya I did it was an amazing experience” Adam smiles
“that’s seriously awesome!”
“Ya and I heard you just got back from study abroad how was that experience?” Adam asks
“it was amazing we went to like 7 or 8 countries around Europe it was fantastic”
“what was your favorite place?”
“my favorite was probably Italy I loved the culture and scenery”
“Really cool I have family in Italy and we went to visit for the first time this summer” Adam tells Lucy.
The two continue in a conversation about Italy for around 5 minutes before Keato walks in
“Adam the game just ended you ready?” He asks
“Ya all set” He says
“it was nice talking to you” Adam tells Lucy then tosses his plastic cup away and walks over to Keato.
“Don’t get any ideas Nolan is really protective about his sister” Keato warns
“We were just talking about studying abroad” Adam says
“alright I’m just telling you” Keato says before they reach the rest of their group at the front door.
———————————————————————
The following weekend the Wolverines hockey team had a two game home stand against the Wisconsin Badgers which they won by 3 on Friday.
Lucy went to the game on Saturday night with a couple of her friends and after the wolverines won 7-2 her friends asked if she wanted to go to a party with them.
Lucy although not usually the party type agreed and headed back to their place.
She was already wearing a pair of black ripped jeans and borrowed and blue top from her friends before the headed out.
She sent a text to Nolan letting her know where she was going to and he responded with be careful. She rolled her eyes at his protectiveness and entered the party.
Her friends got her a truly and they all made their way to the dance floor. After about 20 something minutes Lucy had finished her first can and gotten another fruity flavored truly.
Half way through her second Lucy had started to feel the buzz kicking in and felt a little nauseous.
“Hey I’m gonna be right back” she told her equally drunk friends as she stepped off the dance floor.
She made her way closer to the drink table and steadied herself with the wall.
“Lucy you ok?” A voice asks her from behind she turns around and sees the youngest Fantilli standing their with a red solo cup in his hand. “Adam” She says
“hey” she continues
“are you ok?” He repeats
“ya ya I’m I’m great!”She tells him taking another sip of her drink
“are you here with somebody?” Adam asks
“ya ya my friends are right on the dance floor” Lucy says pointing to the crowd of people
“alright just be safe tonight ok” Adam tells her she nods her head and watches as he walks away in the opposite direction of her.
Lucy shakes her head at the feeling of awkwardness that conversation gave her and takes another sip of her drink before heading back to the dance floor to find her friends.
The group of girls continue dancing and soon Lucy finished her second drink and had another one in her hand. A few sips in she starts to feel dizzy and before she can process what’s happening she’s being carried out of the party and is sitting outside the house on the sidewalk.
“Hey here’s a water” Someone says
“thanks” a second voice says
“should we call Nolan?” The first one asks
“ya ya we should I’ll stay with her” she hears footsteps retreating as her head tries making sense of what’s happening
“Lucy hey it’s Adam you need to drink some water” the second voice says her vision starts to clear and she sees him sitting next to her holding her up with an open water bottle in his hand. 
Lucy reaches out with her cheeks red and gently takes the bottle from his hand brushing up against his hand. Lucy takes a few sips of the cold water and shivers.
“Here take my jacket” Adam says taking off the black jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders.
Lucy starts to feel this tingling sensation inside of her stomach and something comes over her as she looks up at Adam and wraps her arms around him then plants her lips on him. It takes a second for the shock to set in but he kisses her back. Soon the world goes silent and the two of them sit there kissing.
“What the fuck!” A voice shouts the two break out of the kiss immediately and see a not so pleased Nolan who starts getting out of the white vehicle he pulled up in.
Adam immediately takes in the situation while it takes Lucy a few extra seconds to realize what exactly just occurred. “Nolan I I didn’t it’s not not what you think she she kissed me and it just happened I promise” Adam defends himself to his extremely pissed off captain while starting to get up.
Luca Fantilli who had called Nolan in the first place gets a good view of the situation from afar and starts rushing over to cool it down but doesn’t make it in time to prevent Nolan from sucker punching Adam in the jaw and then proceeding to rip the jacket off of his younger sisters shoulders and throwing it towards his bleeding teammate.
Luca checks on Adam as he sees Nolan practically drag his younger sister to the passenger seat of his white car and then drive off leaving the two brothers on the sidewalk.
When the pair of siblings arrive back at their shared home. Nolan practically carries a still drunk Lucy to her room and tucks her into bed before angrily shutting the lights and slamming the door.
———————————————————————
Meanwhile the Fantilli brothers had taken an Uber back to their shared dorm and the oldest Luca had some words to say about his brothers taste in make out partners.
“Dude” is the first thing to come out of Luca’s mouth when they step into their room.
“Don’t dude me” Adam says with a scoff
“You don’t go after someone’s sister come on man everyone knows this” Luca continues
“You literally dated Rutgers sister and she kissed me!” Adam yells
“That’s different Rutger literally set us up and Nolan explicitly said his sister is off limits! And you go and kiss her!”
“So I should’ve left her drunk on the side of the road called Nolan and been like hey your sisters drunk come get her and gone back to the party right” Adam says sarcastically
“No but you still totally fucked up like what we’re you thinking?” Luca raises his voice a little
“Right now I’m thinking I really wishing I was drunker because anything would be better than having this conversation with you!” Adam yells grabbing his keys off of his desk and walking out of the room.
———————————————————————
The next morning Lucy Moyle wakes up with a massive headache and no memory of the night before then proceeds to roll out of bed still in her clothes from last night.
She walks out of her room to see her brother who’s doing homework in the kitchen.
“Good morning” She says forgetting the events that occurred last night
“it’s noon” Nolan harshly replies
“geez what’s got you in a mood” she comments
“do you not remember what happened last night?” Nolan says in a louder tone
“no not really but I do have a headache so can you keep your voice down” She says walking to the medicine cabinet to grab two Advil
“how about I refresh your memory you got drunk at a frat party and Adam and Luca took you outside, Luca called me to pick you up and when I get there you’re making out with Adam!” Nolan yells Lucy’s face pales and her eyes open wide
“No I didn’t” Lucy asks appalled by the news of her drunken actions
“oh my god I have to apologize” Lucy says and starts rushing to her room only to be pulled back into the kitchen by Nolan
“Absolutely not!” Nolan raises his voice still with a firm but not painful grip on Lucy’s arm Lucy winces at the harsh tone
“Nol it wasn’t his fault! It was mine please I need to apologize” Lucy defends
“No you are not to see or speak to Adam again!” Nolan says Lucy rolls her eyes
“I mean it Lucy! You better stay the hell away from Adam!” Nolan says before walking towards his room and slamming his door.
A/N All images are from Pinterest
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Text
Cruel Summer
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All Chan-Mi wanted was an escape but when had Universe ever heard her?
Warnings: Yandere, Manipulation, Obsession, Mentions of abuse
P.S: Uffff, this took so much longer than I anticipated! Writer's block quite fast there 🥲 Anyways, it's here now! As usual, it's not proof-read I apologise!
Lord Jee was in a frenzy. An important guest was coming tomorrow to discuss the village state and welfare. But this wasn’t important because he cared about the welfare of the people. This was important because this visit meant his promotion and promotion meant money. And Jee loved money. There was no other way around it. 
“Chan Mi! Are you even listening to me?!” demanded Lord Jee making Chan-Mi flinch. Chan-Mi chose her words carefully. She did not want to aggravate her husband more than he was. His anger knew no bounds, the marks on her body was a proof of that.  “I am My Lord, I am sure Lord Kim will love the preparations..you are doing for him..”
“This will be great opportunity for us to move to the capital. We will be drowning in money..once we move there..” Lord Jee replied with a sinister smile. Chan-Mi could only hope this worked. She did not want to deal with another session of him taking out his anger on her. She had not yet healed fully from the last one..evident in her slow movements. 
She could remember the day when her father announced her marriage to Lord Jee. They were poor with no way to repay the loan her father had taken for the crops. But when the crops failed and Lord Jee took a liking to her..her father could not refuse. The money was great and would help them survive the harsh winter. Even if it meant sacrificing his eldest daughter. Chani-Mi was 25 now and had long lost contact with her family following her marriage. Lord Jee did not allow her to leave the house often. Chan-Mi could count the handful of the times she got to see the outside world. She longed to escape from here.
The change was coming and it would be something Chan-Mi would have never guessed. 
 *-------*--------*
“I heard you are going tomorrow to the country side, hyung” Jimin asked as he brandished his sword at Namjoon.
Namjoon swung his sword back at Jimin at full pace while grumbling “Yeah, well..King’s orders. Some Lord Jee is making trouble in the country side..God these low lifes can’t just live their lives in peace, can they?”
Jimin snickered, “Hyung, who doesn’t like money? And well if he makes too much noise, killing a small town Lord wouldn’t be that much of an issue for a skilled warrior as you.” Jimin raised his hands in defeat when he felt Namjoon’s sword at his neck. Sigh.
Namjoon smirked. He is a skilled warrior, he knew that, heck everyone knew that. But he hated these visits. These country Lords always tried to act sweet like honey to gain favour and Namjoon loathed people who honeycombed their words. He was a direct man with few words and sharp eyes. Nothing escaped them. 
“Sheeshh, you need to work on your skills more..be more quick on your feet, Jimin” Namjoon advised as he helped Jimin get back up. 
“Yeah..yeah” Jimin moaned in pain. The fall was rough. “And you need to be more gentle with me, hyung!” He complained. Namjoon laughed. The fight was good. He felt energised. “Let’s meet get refreshed, we also need to discuss our strategy for the capital protection”
 *-------*--------*
Chan-Mi felt stressed as she ran up and down the house to check everything was perfect. Lord Jee was getting on her nerves with constant questioning of how things were coming along. By now she was drenched in sweat with beads sticking to her forehead. 
“My Lady, I think you should take a break..um..the guest does not arrive until the evening..and it’s only morning right now..” Chan-Mi’s personal maid Jiya murmured. 
“I will in a while..I just need to instruct the chef’s about the menu for tonight, and then make sure the guest room is ready and then arrange for the entertainers tonight and then-” 
Jiya sighed looking at the young agassi's haggard look. Jiya knew she had the look of pity for Chan-Mi, but who wouldn’t? Poor girl had left one hell to enter another hell. Perhaps even worse than before. Life was truly unfair to some people. 
“As you see fit, My Lady” Jiya resigned. 
Chan-Mi could feel the sympathy in Jiya’s eyes. And it made her skin crawl. She detested being pitied. She knew her circumstances weren’t ideal with an abusive husband and limited freedom but that didn’t mean she wanted to be pitied. However, Chan-Mi had a plan to escape her hell. Unknown to all, Chan-Mi had been poisoning Lord Jee slowly since the past year. It gave her immense thrill to him losing his strength slowly without him even realising it. It was sick of her, she knew, but she couldn’t help this darkness growing inside her. It wouldn’t be long before I gain my freedom..it’s a matter of time. Just thinking about it gave her hope.
Chan-Mi had a serene smile when she replied, “Let’s get back to work.”
 *-------*--------*
Namjoon felt bored. It was hot and dry. How far was this godforsaken place? Ugh. It took him another hour before he reached Jee’s home. It was decorated beautifully he thought. But the heat here was unpleasant along with the scenes he saw on street. The entire village reeked of poverty and destitution. He couldn’t wait to mess up with this Jee. Corruption was not taken lightly by the King and it was quite clear that this old fool was not using the money sent for the betterment of this village. 
“My Lord!” Jee enthusiastically advanced towards Namjoon “It is my honour to host you tonight. I cannot tell you how excited I am!”
Namjoon on the other hand wanted to smack Jee. Why so chirpy. Namjoon scoffed at the fake excitement. “Lord Jee, it’s good to see you. I have been looking forward to this visit” Namjoon  lied smoothly. The faster the talks got over, the faster he could go back. But what Namjoon saw the next second made time stop for him. A pretty, no perhaps the most beautiful girl descended down the stairs. She was small, delicate and had the most charming smile he had ever seen. It lit up the night. He felt his heart thrashing wildly against his chest with only one question running his head. Who is she? He wanted to know her better. Perhaps he will have to prolong his stay, afterall?
But her hair..they were tied. Namjoon hoped against all odds that she was not married. “My Lord, meet my wife..Chan-Mi” Lord Jee grinned. Namjoon felt a crack in his heart. Just my luck. 
Chan-Mi gasped when she looked at Namjoon. He looked divine with his muscular arms and dragon eyes. But Chan-Mi also felt she needed to stay from him. There was something in his slanted eyes that spoke of authority, wickedness and lust. And the way his eyes were looking at her, it left a chill down her spine. I definitely needed to maintain distance from him. Even if it’s just tonight. 
“My Lord, hope you have wonderful stay at our home” Chan-Mi murmured while bowing down. Namjoon on the other hand could not stop staring at her. Everything about Chan-Mi was calling to him..to make her his. We would look so good together. Namjoon could already picture them together. But she was married. Not for long.
“Let’s get going Lord Jee? We have a lot of things to go over.” Namjoon grinned, his set at Chan-Mi. 
 *-------*--------*
Namjoon spent the better half of the evening observing Chan-Mi. She was mostly quiet but what her mouth couldn’t speak, her expressions did. All she felt was visible on her face. Namjoon knew that she could feel his eyes on her even when he was interacting with Jee. But she pretended to be oblivious which was adorable. 
As the night progressed and Jee started getting drunk, Chan-Mi became more relaxed. And Namjoon more aggressive with his approach in talking to her. 
“How did you two get married? I cannot fathom such a beautiful lady as you married to such a vile man.” curious Namjoon asked.
Chan-Mi choked on her food as she looked at Namjoon who was looking at her with an expression she could not decipher. “Uh..that’s quite a personal question, My Lord,” Chan-Mi hesitated, “One, I am not comfortable speaking.” 
Namjoon smiled for the first time that night. His interest spiked even more. Not only was she composed but also had a spite in her voice, just as he had guessed. This is going to be interesting. 
“You are not of noble birth, are you?” Namjoon asked raising his eyebrows. Chan-Mi blushed, then frowned and finally glared at him. Namjoon felt exhilarated from her reaction. So, she wasn’t. He was correct. 
“What made you marry him?” he provoked further. Namjoon was frankly enjoying her expressions. Like a cat and mouse game. 
Chan-Mi looked back at Namjoon with wide eyes before standing up suddenly “My Lord, I understand that you are an important guest and I welcome you in my house with full respect. However, you are crossing a line here!” How dare he? Who was he to think that he could question her in her house?! Agreed she wasn’t of noble birth but she was a noble Lady now. And she would not tolerate strange man questioning her. 
“I think, it’s time that I should take my leave now. Since, my husband is here already and you are here only for tonight…I should leave you two to disc-” 
Adorable. “I am not staying just for the night My Lady” he smirked, “I am here for quite some time. You should get used to me now.” For I am your future. 
Disrespect was something, Namjoon did not tolerate well. Granted his little kitten did not know that now, but the sooner he tamed her, better it would be for her. Namjoon stoop up and began walking towards her. “What are you doing?” Chani-Mi spoke alarmingly walking backwards as he progressed when she felt the wall hit her back. Uh-oh. He watched her like a starved man. This was not good, especially when her husband laid there drunk out of this mind to register what was happening in the room. 
“What am I doing?” Namjoon asked back as he encircled her waist to reel her in. Perfect. She was the perfect size for him. “You are so small” Namjoon cooed looking down at her, “I am going to tell you this once. And you must hear me clearly, understood kitten?” 
Chan-Mi could feel her heart beating wildly. She tried squirming away without much luck. His arms were like iron around her..caging her. “I am not interested in your games.” She growled at him. 
“Enough” Namjoon tugged her hair harshly before bringing his lips to her ears and spoke “Silly kitten, I am not the one to play games, understood?” grinding himself against her. Chan-Mi felt scared for the first time that evening. This was not how it was supposed to go. 
“You are going to confess to his crimes tomorrow..and once that’s done both you and him are going to be jailed for trial” Namjoon trailed his fingers from her hair to her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Even her breast were of perfect size for his hands. He couldn’t wait to have her under him. “But I have taken a liking to you, my kitten..so, I am going to save you under one condition..be mine.”
If possible his touch became more aggressive and his dragon eyes more dark. His obsession flowing from them. Namjoon knew what he felt was beyond love. But he couldn’t stop himself. He had to make her his..his little kitten. 
“You have the whole night to think it over but be assured kitten even if you say no…I am going to take you back with me..” Namjoon looked into her eyes for a good measure, “the only difference is, if you say yes you will not be punished by me. Clear?” 
Change had come truly, just not the one Chan-Mi wished. Cruel Summer indeed. 
Taglist: @whipwhoops
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wheels-of-despair · 11 months
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Worth It | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist
{<-Previous} [Every Single Room] {Next->}
Summary: What comes after a wedding? Words: 1.8k
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You were brought back to reality by a camera flash and a burst of unexpected cheering. You and your husband broke your kiss and turned your heads toward the house to see people pouring out of the doors. Ralph's eyes narrow, and he glares in Victoria's direction.
"Don't look at me like that, dear brother, you know you can't have a wedding without a reception!"
He looked like he was about to argue, but you pulled him close and whispered, "One more night, then it's just us. Let her have her party." He looks conflicted for a moment, then nods in defeat.
You stood still so the photographer could get a few shots of the two of you, and then instructed him to make the rounds and shoot freely. You didn't dare ask your mothers to join you for an official portrait. Although it would surely provide enough evidence for a conviction.
Someone dragged the gramophone outside, and music soon filled your ears. Not particularly good music, but music nonetheless.
"Dance! Dance!" the crowd chants in your direction. Ralph looks at you apologetically.
"The people have spoken," you tease, placing a hand on his shoulder. He responds to your movement, and you're suddenly reminded of your first dance together.
"Did we make my mother's head explode this time?" you ask. You both glance over at them and laugh. Your mothers are sitting side by side, watching you silently like a pair of angry hawks. The plan is to avoid them for the rest of the night, and then escape to the country for a month or so to give them time to get used to the idea that not only are their children married, but did not allow them to participate in the planning of the ceremony.
In your defense, you'd tried. But they'd nearly driven you mad.
After your first dance with your husband, your father cuts in, and Victoria snatches up Ralph before he can stand awkwardly to the side for too long. She may be annoying most of the time, but the excitement of helping you plan a secret wedding had kept her almost tolerable over these last few days.
"Do you think she'll ever forgive me for this?" you ask your father, trying not to look in the direction of your mother.
"I'm hopeful that she'll soften by the time you give her a grandchild."
"Really?"
"Maybe a great-grandchild." You both laugh.
"You have a honeymoon planned?"
"Yes, we'll be gone for a month or so. Give things time to cool down."
"Where will you go?"
"Officially, a cruise. Unofficially, the forgotten family estate where Ralph used to spend his summers."
"Officially?"
"I once heard his mother mention a tradition of the family coming to visit the happy couple during their honeymoon."
"Can't have that," he jokes.
"Absolutely not," you respond with a grin.
"Fear not, my dear, your secrets are always safe with me."
You smile up at him, happy for his unwavering support.
When the song ends, Ralph swoops back in to take you off your father's hands. He claps Ralph on the shoulder and goes to talk with the reverend, rather than return to the table where your mother is still glowering. Not even she can bring you down tonight.
"Congratulations!" you hear from behind you, and whirl around to see Nancy beaming with delight. "It was a beautiful ceremony, I'm so happy for you both!"
"Thank you for coming!" you tell her with a quick embrace. "I'm sorry we had to be so sneaky about it."
"It's all part of the fun!" she laughs. "Your purse and overnight bag are upstairs with the rest of your things," she says a bit lower.
"I can't thank you enough," you whisper. "Please tell me you'll stay for this reception we didn't ask for? I don't know what else Victoria has planned, but the champagne will probably flow until sunrise."
"Just for a little while. All this romance has a girl in need of a real date." You both giggle. "Good luck tonight," she says with a wink, "and happy honeymooning!"
You have a brief moment of panic as she disappears into the crowd, but it dissipates when your eyes meet Ralph's. You have nothing to worry about. You give him a warm smile and gesture toward the dancing crowd, where you lose yourselves in each other once again.
After a few more dances, Victoria calls for everyone's attention near the stairs, where a large cake has appeared while your attention was focused elsewhere.
"Come on, lovebirds, cut your cake!"
Ralph takes your hand and leads the way to the three-tiered white cake you'd picked out together. It's surprisingly beautiful, for something made with only a few days' notice. You cut it together, and the crowd cheers. You take a breath, thinking it's over.
"Go on, feed each other, tradition demands it!" Thank you, Victoria.
You eye the forks and quickly dismiss the idea of feeding it to him properly. Your hands were so shaky at the thought of being watched by so many strangers, you were afraid you'd stab him. Making the groom bleed on the wedding night is surely a bad omen.
You use the fork to cut off two bite-sized pieces from the first slice, and then reach for one. Ralph follows your lead, picking up the other. Aiming for each other's mouths with shaky hands, both pieces of cake miraculously end up where they're supposed to. It all went smoothly, except for that one brief second after you licked his finger that you worried Ralph might be having a stroke. You revive him with a sweet kiss.
Everyone cheers, the music and dancing quickly resume, and the two of you slip inside for a moment of quiet.
"Well, that was… unexpected."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know she was going to do that. Although I probably should have."
"It's fine, Ralph. Let them have their fun," you said gently.
"I know it wasn't what you wanted."
"I told you, Ralph: All I want is you."
Ralph's mouth crashes to yours, and your arms circle his neck. When you break for breath, you rest your foreheads together.
"Think they'd notice if we slipped out?" he asked mischievously.
"Does it matter? It's not like they know where we're going."
You share a wicked grin and leave your party behind.
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You spent your first night as a married couple in one of London's finest hotels.
You hadn't done much sleeping, but it was a good night and a comfortable bed nonetheless. The two of you had finally passed out in the early hours of the morning, pressed together tightly in a tangle of limbs. You hadn't even slept long enough to drift apart before the wake-up call came.
You both groaned, but Ralph dragged himself out of bed to answer. You pouted at the lack of warmth as he acknowledged that he was awake, and ordered breakfast. After Ralph hung up the telephone, you pulled the covers aside, hoping he'd return to you instead of doing the responsible thing and getting dressed. He hesitated for about half a second before crawling back into bed, lying on his side and facing you.
"Good morning, Mr. Penbury," you whispered sleepily, cupping the side of his face.
"Good morning, Mrs. Penbury," he replied, face splitting into a grin, which yours soon matched.
You inched closer for a morning kiss, which lasted until a knock at the door announced the arrival of breakfast.
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After you'd eaten and dressed, you re-packed your overnight bags and went down to the lobby to wait for the car.
When you'd finalized your plans for your escape, you'd each packed enough clothes for a month "at sea". A car would be picking them up at your homes that morning, and then you. If questioned, the driver was to tell your families that he was taking you south, to the coast, to meet your ship.
In reality, you were driving a few hours north, to the large estate in the country where young Ralph and Victoria had spent most of their summers. What was once a hub for Penbury family gatherings had become just another memory, as the various branches of the family had either fallen out, drifted apart, or simply chosen not to return. Ralph guessed that nowadays, the only people who entered it were the caretaker and the small team of maids who'd clean it a few times a year to ensure that it didn't fall into disrepair.
Ralph had called the caretaker a few days ago and told him of your plans, hoping the man would find it in his heart to forgive him for the events of the twins' 18th birthday party. That was the last time he'd laid eyes on the manor… unfocused though those eyes were, after a week of nonstop drinking with Victoria and about thirty of their closest acquaintances. Ralph had assured the caretaker that it would be just two of you this time, and that you wouldn't be much trouble.
The drive took a few hours, but it was pleasant. It was just the two of you and the driver, and the man hadn't said a word since he'd asked if you were ready to depart. Ralph had made this journey many times before, and was happy to point out landmarks along the way. You watched the scenery, and asked him questions about the stories he shared. During a quiet stretch with nothing special to see, you leaned your head on his shoulder and held his hand. Ralph closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the closeness. Would all of marriage be like this? Happy just to be together? He hoped so.
"Sir?"
Ralph's head shot up.
"We're nearly there, sir."
Ralph's sudden movement had jostled you awake. Sitting up and rubbing your eyes, you look out each window trying to take in as much as you could. Ralph watches with fondness.
"You shouldn't have let me fall asleep, I've missed half the trip!"
"You didn't get much sleep last night. I think you earned a nap," Ralph says with a wink. You turn your head toward the window in hopes of hiding your blush.
"This is it," Ralph informs you as the driver turns onto a quiet road lined with trees. You sit up straighter and watch the road closely.
After one more turn, the manor comes into view.
"This is it?" you breathe.
"Yes." Ralph is suddenly self-conscious, wondering if he'd oversold it. Should you have gone somewhere foreign and magnificent instead? This was a stupid idea, there's nothing special about this--
"Ralph, it's beautiful!"
"Really?"
You nod your head, not taking your eyes off of it.
Ralph grins. He knew this was a good idea. He leans in close and whispers, "We are going to make love in every single room."
"Ralph, that'll take until Christmas!"
"So be it," he laughs.
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