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#i’m reblogging this every monday
yoohyeontual · 2 years
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My dog body language is so strong, I can read his mind KCBJDBJDNS
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saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄
+ sae x f!reader | wc 5.3k
notes: i’m in love with this man, and wrote this on a whim :’) hope y’all like it !! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3
summary: you’ve known sae since you were both sixteen. he’s always dreamed of going overseas and facing the world, will he ever be ready to come home?
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𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
sae can read almost everyone flawlessly, you included.
he’s not close to you, not at all. physically? yes, because you’re his seat partner. but in all other aspects? no, definitely not.
you’re scared of him, he can tell. whenever he moves, you get self-conscious, immediately pulling your own chair in, giving him way. then you check on him as he moves away, because you’re scared that somehow you’ve managed to offend him.
you never did. because to offend sae, you’d need to be someone who can even bother him in the first place.
sae doesn’t care about what you do though, he just happens to notice you. out of convenience, because he sees you every monday to friday and sits next to you for every class.
it’s the same routine thing every week—you sit next to each other, barely say a word all day and then before he knows it, it’s the end of school day.
it doesn’t even matter. you don’t matter.
nobody really does.
he peeks at you out of the corner of his eyes, your eyes peering down at your paper with the utmost concentration. he quickly looks away though, because the last thing he wants is to get caught and be labeled as a cheater on a history quiz. especially when he’s not cheating.
yeah, you really don’t matter.
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𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
soccer, soccer, soccer.
that’s all sae can think of nowadays. just do whatever he can to improve his skills, everything else is up for debate.
you’re still his seatmate, still ever so distant. he gives you credit though, for greeting him every morning now even though you look terrified and nervous all the time.
“good morning.”
today is no exception. sae’s eyes flick up to you and then back down to his desk, and that’s all of the acknowledgement you get, as usual. it’s nothing personal, he just doesn’t want to get into small talk at all.
but he’ll give you points for trying, even if he doesn’t exactly know what’s going through your head right now. somehow, he can’t read you as well anymore.
that’s how you usually are now, the newer version of you. a little more upbeat, a little friendlier, less awkward but still as shy as he first pegged you to be.
well, now you’re just slightly more amusing. somehow, sae starts to find himself wondering how you’d react to different situations.
it’s almost the middle of the school year and you’d kept up with your usual greetings everyday. sae keeps up with his usual stoic demeanour on his part.
until today.
“good morning!” you’re extra chirpy today, he notices.
sae blinks at you once, twice, and you’re still smiling at him, and he’d like to know whether you’re still that same nervous mess inside, so he opens his mouth this time.
“morning, y/n.”
simple, easy, basic courtesy.
but somehow you’re looking at him as though he’s a fucking freak.
to be fair, that’s exactly what he expected. but it’s now been a whole minute and you’re still staring dumbly at him.
“what?”
you shake your head, laughing sheepishly as you take your seat beside him, “nothing, it’s just… you never bothered talking to me before.”
sae shrugs, because it’s not like he bothers now, per se. he’s just—what’s the word—bored? “i can shut up too if you prefer that.”
“no!”
you look so embarrassed by your quick outburst that sae almost snickers. that’s the most reaction you’ve nearly managed to get out of him yet.
“i mean,” you stutter, looking for the right words to say, and maybe sae is getting a little bit of an ego boost right now because he can tell you’re flustered. “you’re pretty terrifying most of the time so…”
he knows what you mean, but he acts like he doesn’t. “oh, so you like terrifying? okay, i can do that.”
the way your face instantly switches to a straight expression is fucking amusing, and for a split second his guard falls and you get to hear him snicker.
luckily, the bell rings right after and mr hayato is never late. sae never got to hear what you thought of that.
every single day after that passes by a little bit easier, your non-friendship inching a little closer together, sae might even consider you an acquaintance now.
he converses with you a lot more fluidly (as much as he allows himself to—he doesn’t like you being too comfortable, likes to keep you on your toes), and he finds himself teaching you things he notices you’re absolutely horrible at.
like logarithms, because no matter how much you try to wrap your head around it, you refuse to ask anyone for help. you’re a little stubborn, but sae can live with that, just has to speak to you in a way that doesn’t seem like you look like you need help.
“no, you’re forgetting that the log of e is always one, there, see?” sae sighs as he explains, because you’re quite muddle-headed. “it’ll be much easier once you get all the definitions in your head.”
“were you born a genius or something?” you ask innocently upon catching his test scores. a 94 out of 100, compared to your 63.
that day, neither of you notice the fact that other people are beginning to notice your growing friendship.
sae starts tutoring you whenever he can, because apparently you’re hopeless without his help. (he says this to your face. he’s always straight with you.) and then he finds himself noticing you in ways he never did before.
how you look absolutely angelic when the sun hits your face. he notices the way you puff out your cheeks when you’re thinking hard. even the perfume that wafts through the air. you smell good.
this is ridiculous.
“hun, do you want any—”
fuck. sae’s head whips around to see an older woman at your door, almost a carbon copy of you, eyes wide as her gaze falls onto him.
no, he’s not particularly nervous or feels like he should be, but something tells you if your mother is anything like you, she’d misunderstand. this is just a lot more trouble than it’s worth. you’re a lot more trouble than it’s worth. what’s he even getting out of tutoring you?
“oh hi there! and who might you be?”
he can see stars in her eyes, all hopeful and excited as she shifts her gaze between you and sae and back to you again.
“mom! he’s no one—” ouch, he’s tutoring you and you introduce him as no one? “a friend and he’s tutoring me for some math stuff so could you…?”
it’s like the gears are turning in your mother’s head when she eyes sae knowingly. god, he has to do some damage control. don’t want either of you expecting anything much out of him.
“i’m itoshi sae,” he introduces himself, shaking her hand. “i just make time to tutor some of my classmates to earn extra credit.”
not even close to true, but neither of you need to know that. he’d much rather spend his free time getting in some training or going to the gym but he decided maybe he could spend a few hours out of today to help your dumbass with numbers.
he’s an expert at sidestepping small talk and in no time at all, your mother’s out of the room. you still seem embarrassed, he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks.
“concentrate,” sae sighs, and he wonders why he’s even doing this for you. he’d rather go home right now, he thinks, maybe kick the ball around with rin, or just lie down in bed because waking up at 4am to train every morning is taking its toll.
you mumble a hushed apology and rub the sleepiness from your eyes. the both of you had been at this for a couple of hours now, maybe looking at numbers too much is making you tired too.
sae acknowledges you’re a fast learner though, if you have a proper teacher. he’s not surprised that ms kina’s teachings are lost on you—she’s not that good at explaining concepts. sae is, though. he usually doesn’t bother sharing but hey, maybe now is just a glitch in the matrix, maybe now he’s just trying to do good samaritan things and help you out so you don’t fail the damn midterm test.
“okay then, see you,” he says, picking up his bag and slinging it around his shoulders, only to have you grab his wrist. “what?”
you look a little bashful once you realise what you did, and then you let go of him immediately. you look like you really want to say something, but you don’t, you just shake your head.
don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.
sae’s putting his bag back down before he knows it, and he groans internally. “say it.”
“if-if you don’t mind, maybe we could schedule a tutoring session every week?” you’re so, so timid and so, so soft.
he blinks once, twice, realising what you actually mean to say. you don’t want the tutoring session, apart from logarithms you’re fine with pure numbers, but you want time. with him.
it boosts his ego a little, if he’s being honest.
“i’m too busy with my soccer trainings,” he tells you, nonchalant until he sees how quick your expression falls and then he has to hate himself for continuing, “i have some time on friday evenings though.”
like a puppy, you’re instantly chirpy again, saying how maybe he could tutor you after he’s done with whatever stuff, and how you’d get a head start and grab some seats at a cafe or something.
you’re both seventeen when your weekly tutoring sessions start. it’s beyond himself why he agreed. all he knows is that he doesn’t particularly like being the reason your expression goes sad.
first week in, you’re still too nervous, too jumpy.
the second week, you’re a little too full of nonsense, daring to laugh at him, or with him, depending.
by the fifth week, your bare arm is already brushing his and you’re not even flinching.
you’re both seventeen when sae realises that maybe he cares for you. in the way lovers do. in the way he gets you to walk on the safer side of the sidewalk. in the way he sends you home every friday. in the way he actually responds to your goodnight texts and wakes up waiting for your good morning.
in the way he listens when you tell him that your mother is actually sick, that you want to take care of her. that your dream is simple—to find your passion one day, and to be able to earn enough to let your mother live peacefully, to help her fight whatever she has to because you don’t want her to be alone.
in the way, for the first time in his life, he reaches out to you, putting his hand on top of yours as he lets you cry on his shoulder.
your birthday falls on a friday this year, and he tells you not to bring your books that day in class. you look at him with pure shock, but then quickly adjust yourself and bring up a grateful smile.
“yes, sir.”
that night he meets you up on the rooftop of your complex, in the middle of the carpark, and you’ve never looked any happier than you did when you saw him holding that petite round galaxy cake in his hands, the sparkler candles so pretty in the night.
“happy birthday.”
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𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
the next school year starts and sae enters into it still close to you as ever. you haven’t met in just over a month, what with sae’s intense training camps and your family holiday. but the both of you still talk to each other daily, and he finds himself waiting for your response every night.
it’s like the both of you are in a relationship, but neither of you are saying anything about it. whatever this relationship-non-relationship is, sae thinks he likes it.
but it’s barely three months into the school year and sae has to break your heart.
“it’s the opportunity of a lifetime, i’m sure you understand right?” his coach rambles on, disgusting with how he’s talking with his mouth full and chips keep falling out of it.
sae nods, because he does. he’s almost sure he’ll go for it. it’s not everyday kids from japan get offered a spot to play for a european club.
“great! so let’s get your parents involved and get you to spain.”
“yeah, sure.”
it’s frustrating how he’s not more excited. it’s there, but it’s faint, because it’s lingering on the traces of his feelings for you. he’s never really thought this far, and maybe that was his fault. he’ll keep that in mind; he can’t risk this situation again. he can’t risk getting your hopes up and being the reason that they’ll never recover.
minimise damage, yeah, that’s what he has to do.
you go from talking endlessly in class to being quiet because sae is trying to concentrate. you go from meeting every friday outside of school to every other friday, to once every month, to none at all. you go from texting a good morning and a goodnight every day to barely getting responses from sae, barely ever even get your messages read.
then one day sae just doesn’t show up to school at all. and you finally hear that he’s been scouted for a club in spain, that he’s going to be away for god knows how long. and then you realise that maybe that’s why he’s been distant lately, because you refuse to believe that the sae who took so much time out of his busy schedule for you, the sae who made the effort to buy you a birthday cake and spend all night on the carpark just listening to you talk on and on about insignificant things because you were nervous, the sae who you fell in love with—you refuse to believe it wasn’t real.
that’s why you hold your hopes up and ride your bicycle to his house, which you’ve been to once before, just outside though, because you’d asked him where he lived and he finally obliged. it’s still beautiful as ever, neat garden lined with flowers and a soccer field in the back.
when you knock on the gate, you see a familiar face come out; it’s itoshi rin, his younger brother. you only know that because sae’s spoken about him a few times, and you saw a picture of the both of them together on his phone.
“oh, um, hi, who are you?” rin asks, cautiously, because evidently, he’s never seen you.
“uh, i’m one of sae’s… classmates,” you decide, and it stings that you realise you can’t even say that anymore. how did it all spiral from cloud nine? “is he home?”
rin blinks a few times. his lower lashes are slightly longer than sae’s, he’s carrying a soccer ball, and you just know he’s been training all day because he’s sweating from head to toe. sae has said rin wanted to be a striker just like him.
“oh, didn’t you hear? my big bro got scouted, he left for spain last night.”
it shouldn’t be this upsetting—he isn’t even your boyfriend. no matter how much you wanted him to be. he was just… someone you studied with, spent time with, made efforts for.
but something forms in the pit of your stomach when you hear that sae’s already gone, that he’s already halfway to spain without even saying goodbye, without giving you any warning.
you’d thought whatever friendship you had with him was worth more than a silent goodbye, than a one-sided decision.
“o-oh, okay, thanks!”
you bolt off before rin can say anything else, it’s better that no one can see you crying anyway.
that night once you’ve sort of calmed down, you open up sae’s message thread, which as of late is mostly a string of messages from you and sae only replying with oh or i see or i’m busy.
the last time he even bothered replying to you was last week when you asked if he wanted to watch a movie together and he said a simple no.
“you’re an ass, itoshi sae,” you cry to yourself as you bring up the keyboard on your phone, your tears falling onto the screen.
i hate you, itoshi sae.
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𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
soccer is the same; thrilling, tiring, demanding.
it’s been a year since he left japan and he’s still surviving, still thriving, still being revered as a genius midfielder. sae knows he has what it takes to bring victory to a good enough team, that’s what he came here for anyway—to be the best in the world.
“good job out there, sae,” the captain claps him on the back, but sae’s mind isn’t there.
it’s been a year since he left japan and he still pulls up the last message you ever sent him.
i hate you, itoshi sae.
perhaps it’s good that you do. there’s no place for your dreams in spain, or anywhere else in the world except for japan. you need to move on from him. maybe you already did, from what he hears from his classmates who still check in on him from time to time.
the first time sae hears about how some other guy asked you out, he can’t say he doesn’t care. but he’s relinquished his right to be jealous, so he barely responds to the news.
but maybe he’s beginning to see where he fucked up, because he shouldn’t have gotten close to you in the first place, should’ve just left you alone.
instead now he’s left with this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. is this how it feels like to really miss someone?
𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘
you’re now in college and you’re past whatever happened in high school. itoshi sae still lingers in the crevices of your mind, with his teal eyes and his pretty lashes and the way his hand felt when they were on top of yours.
some part of you thinks you’d never get over him, but you have to make peace with that. just because he never bothered to give you closure doesn’t mean he should be allowed to ruin your life.
besides, you’re pretty sure he read what you last sent him. there’s really nothing else for you to do if he doesn’t even bother talking to you.
you’d been trying to properly move on anyway, and that’s exactly what you try to do later that night, after accepting ryusei shido’s invitation to dinner.
he’s like the opposite of sae, though. he’s all expressive and goofy and wild because he’s got you trespassing on private property just to borrow their garden and he likes to drive fast, really fast, because he loves the wind in his hair.
if you had met him first, you’d probably be in love with the rush he gives you, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. when he kissed you, if only you didn’t have itoshi sae in your head, then maybe you’d have kissed him back.
when you’re twenty, you find out that maybe you can’t move on without giving itoshi sae a piece of your mind.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄
sae’s career has been rapidly progressing, he’s part of the starting team and is hailed as one of the world’s up-and-coming top soccer stars.
the earlier game cemented it.
his team won, with the commentators naming him as the most valuable player, assisting in all the goals scored by his team.
when he’s pulled aside for an interview, he can’t help but wonder whether you’d be watching through the television, hanging on his every word. or maybe you’d already moved on with this shido guy he hears about.
fuck that shido guy.
and when an interviewer asks whether there’s anyone special in his life that motivates him, he finds himself wishing he could say your name.
“nothing of that sort.”
interviews pass by quickly, as they always do for him because he’s not much of an interview guy, with his stoic expressions and lacklustre responses. he’s on the way back to the locker room when he hears a familiar voice calling out to him.
“sae!”
he spins around to find his mother and father there, surprising him. they must’ve heard he was playing and booked a flight out. rin’s not here though.
“rin’s busy with some soccer matches of his own back at home,” his father explains, as if he read his mind. “he couldn’t make it, but he’s surely watching the match from home.”
how silly of sae to have wished that it was you calling out to him, for that split second. you’re still in his head, and that’s annoying.
“oh! sweetheart,” his mother coos after she’s done gushing over his game, “we ran into one of your friends earlier! what’s her name—ah wait there she is!”
sae furrows his brows, following his mother’s gaze and finds you there, hugging the walls, sheepishly waving your hand at him. he’s starting to doubt his vision, maybe you’re just his imagination, maybe his mother’s looking at someone else.
“hey, sae,” you greet him, mellow and polite.
he’s still standing there like he’s the one who’s starstruck, like you’re the famous one. are you really here?
“what are you doing here?”
not the best greeting, but that’s the most he can muster when he hasn’t seen or heard from you in over three years.
you smile, and he thinks he might melt, but he doesn’t because he’s just told—lied to—the world that there’s no one special to him.
“what’s wrong with supporting one of my friends?” you say, as though this is a neighbourhood soccer match and you didn’t have to fly halfway across the world for it.
“itoshi! get in here!” by the sound of his voice, it’s the captain talking. sae doesn’t even want to take his eyes off of you, but he has to.
“go,” you tell him, “i’m staying near the airport, if, uh, you wanted to do anything afterwards.”
does he?
sae swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “yeah, okay.”
that night, he figures out which hotel you’re staying at and pays you a visit—it annoys him how fast his heart is beating and how your sudden presence threatens to mess up his life.
he knocks on your door, and you open it, beaming at him when you see him. “i thought we were meeting at the restaurant,” you say as you let him in, closing the door behind him.
“i was just passing by, sent my parents to the airport and thought i would just drop by,” he answers, lying through his teeth. his parents are still somewhere in spain and he just wanted to see you sooner, that’s all.
“well, i’m still getting ready,” you tell him, straightening your dress and looking at yourself in the mirror.
how is it possible you keep getting prettier everyday? your hair’s a little longer now, and you look more mature, you’ve learned to do makeup, and your dress hugs your body in just the right places. he’s cursing himself for staring at you.
“i thought you’d be too busy to come out with me tonight, honestly,” you confess, putting on some lipstick.
sae has to look away, “and i thought you hated me.”
that has you stopping in your tracks; this conversation happened earlier than you expected, but you’d been gunning for this all the same.
“yeah, well you left japan without saying a word to me, like i was just anyone else.”
he understands why you’d think that. that was what he was going for anyway, and it reminds him what he should be doing instead of entertaining you right now. sae should be rejecting you, you and your efforts, should turn away from you like you’re another one of his fangirls.
“why?”
but the shakiness in your voice takes him off guard.
“why what?”
“why didn’t you say anything?”
“i didn’t have to,” sae responds, simply, like he doesn’t owe you a damn thing.
“was i imagining it?” you ask, finally turning around and looking him in his eyes.
no, no you weren’t.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“then why are you here, sae?” you burst out, and he stills in his position, feet glued to the floor. “you wouldn’t give a second thought to people you don’t care about, so what now?”
“i was just taking an old friend out to dinner, that’s all.”
he’s stubborn, so so stubborn. he’s hoping he’ll hold out.
“i don’t get you,” you mutter softly, to yourself or to him, he doesn’t even fucking know.
sae really shouldn’t, but he thinks about how he might never see you again and tries, “what do you want?”
“what are you talking about?”
“do you know what you want?” sae turns it around on you. “you flew halfway across the world to get here, for what? for me?”
he’s intimidating when he speaks a little louder than usual, and you shrink back just slightly.
“i-i wanted to talk to you,” you try your hardest to form an excuse but it’s not working.
“and what did you want out of that?”
you fall flat, and you feel like giving up. you know the answer, but you don’t want to admit it. you don’t want to tell him that you wanted him to want you too, you don’t want to admit that you’ve been thinking about him nearly all the time and what could’ve been.
“just forget it,” you relent, averting your gaze, but the next moment you feel an unfamiliar sensation on your lips, the taste of his on yours.
sae doesn’t know why he’s doing it, but his body moves on its own; something he got from playing that manages to bleed into his daily life, apparently.
you taste so much better than he expected, and you feel like you belong in his arms, like you’re made for him because there’s absolutely no one else in the whole fucking world who could ever bring itoshi sae to his knees.
he’s been in denial all this time, yes, and he’s tired of it. if you came all the way here, he’s not wasting it. he pulls away from you, absolutely dazed by the wanting look in your eyes.
you’re twenty one years old when you first hear itoshi sae telling you he loves you.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎
“someone’s chirpy,” your mother says from the couch, looking up from her ipad. “i sense… a date with sae.”
you roll your eyes, throwing one of the cushions at her. “mom, shut up,” you groan, still embarrassed whenever she calls you out for it.
sae’s still in spain most of the time, but the both of you make it work. you make a point to video call at least twice a week, and he responds to you like a normal boyfriend does. it’s back to that good morning, goodnight love you shared back in high school. he makes as much time as he can, and you appreciate him for it.
“i’m glad you’re happy, sweetie,” she tells you, and you smile gratefully.
you’re more than relieved now that she’s managed to fight the cancer off. it’s the only reason she pushed you to go see sae last year. you technically wouldn’t have done it without her.
a knock on your door signals that he’s here, and your mom gives you a knowing look before she excuses herself to her room.
when you open the front door, you feel a burst of excitement when you see sae there holding a bouquet of flowers.
“happy birthday, pretty.”
even when he’s busy, even when he’s swamped, he’ll never stop making you feel like you’re on top of the world.
both of you are twenty-two when sae decides that you’re his world.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
this is the year you find out long distance is actually really really hard.
sometimes sae loses the match, and sometimes he can’t separate friend from foe from you. he gets frustrated, and so you do too. he has less than kind words when he’s venting, and you happen to be on the receiving end.
sometimes you get stressed from your finals projects, and you push him away, and sae leaves you to it. sae doesn’t check up on you as much as you’d like to, and you’re a little too stubborn to tell him that you mind.
sometimes sae would get interviewed and would have to address dating rumours, whether it’s the upcoming supermodel from america or that renowned sexy sports photographer from brazil—it’s hard not to get jealous, especially when you’re kept private.
you can’t blame him for that, not when everyone likes to send hate to the pretty girl he’s supposedly dating.
this is also where you find out that itoshi sae knows you better than anyone. it’s where he always leaves you a reminder he loves you, even when you’re fighting. it’s where he sends you a goodnight text even when you’ve hung up the phone hours ago in anger. it’s where he keeps japan in his weather app just so he can tell you not to be a klutz and fall down when it’s raining. it’s where he declares on international television that no, he’s not available but that’s none of their business.
even if you yearn for him to be next to you at times, sae’s off doing what he’s always wanted to do, and you’re not going to let yourself be a burden—so you do what you want to do, because the last thing you want the headlines to blast is the fact that itoshi sae’s girlfriend is a good-for-nothing.
twenty-three is the age where you start writing articles for a local magazine company, where you take lead on fashion articles while occasionally helping with the sports section.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑
both of your careers are in full flight.
so is your relationship.
sae’s always proud of you, of your achievements, of your efforts even if they didn’t bear fruit. you’re doing so well, making yourself a name in Japan with your articles, with your wonderful insights and funny wit.
he always reads your articles, tells his assistant to get a subscription on the magazine and send it to sae’s hotel, always reads the articles you write. he doesn’t tell you about that though. doesn’t want you getting a big head.
and every time you talk on the phone about your articles and how hard it was to write or how you’re afraid people will take it the wrong way, he acts like he doesn’t even know which article you’re talking about. (he absolutely does.)
“hey, when’s my contract ending again?”
sae’s assistant looks up from his ipad from his seat across him on the private jet. he blinks twice before rifling through his different folders.
“oh, next year.”
a ghost of a smile appears on sae’s face and his assistant thinks he’s hallucinating.
“good.”
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄
sae is twenty-five years old when he finally decides he’s ready to come home.
it makes the headlines—how he quit the club and refused to play for them anymore, the reason being that he wants to go back to his roots.
back to you.
because now, at your front door, after he knocks once, twice, and you open it, surprised, sae’s never been more sure that he’s making the right decision.
after all, you’re the only one in the world capable of bringing itoshi sae to his knee.
“will you marry me?”
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melancholyhigh · 6 months
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SUNRISE.
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ft. brother's best friend!leon x reader
synopsis. even though leon's supposed to be having a sleepover with your brother, he can't help but miss you, sneaking behind your brother's back to fulfil his desires.
content. 2.4k words. smut. subby!leon, handjob, fingering, quiet & sneaky sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), come eating, praise kink.
note. i'm finally active and the first thing i do is write for sub leon. old habits die hard.
masterlist. i love reblogs & validation !!
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You stare blankly at your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. It’s currently 5 AM, and you’ve spent the entire night twisting and turning, trying to succumb to the sweet escape of slumber.
You believe it’s your body betraying you. Your brain understands his presence near you, but not close enough. It yearns for him and his touch, unable to function without it. He’s in the room across from yours, lying on the grimy couch in your brother’s room as he peacefully sleeps.
Your eyes begin to droop, and you allow yourself to give into the sense of vulnerability. Breaths coming out evenly, your chest rising and falling in sync. 
All sense of tranquillity disappears at the firm knock on your door. What could your parents possibly want?
You let out a groan in frustration. In all honesty, you’re about to burst into tears. The comforting rest you’ve been anticipating since Monday swept away because you couldn’t handle your feelings correctly, up late at night just thinking about what could’ve been.
The quicker you get it over with, the faster you’ll be able to get some sleep. You highly doubt that, though.
A few minutes pass, and you rip the smothering blanket off you, shuffling to the door. Gripping the cool metal of the doorknob, you stall before turning it.
The door opens to reveal him. Leon. The source of your nighttime dilemmas. His lips curved into a shy smile, and his eyelids drooped with similar exhaustion to yours. Your anger and frustration dissipate when you meet his tired gaze. It’s astonishing how much control he has over your emotions, over you.
“Can I come in?” he asks sheepishly, his voice hoarse from sleep. You stumble to the side, silently allowing him to enter the confines of your room. It’s second nature to him when he falls not so gracefully onto your bed, snuggling your sheets.
Closing the door, you lock it before joining him on your bed. It wasn’t unusual for Leon to find comfort in your twin-sized bed despite barely being able to fit in it with you, his limbs dangling off the ledge. It was odd of him to entertain the idea while your brother was nearby. 
He’s the cautious one despite asking you out first. He’s reluctant to face the consequences of your brother finding him intertwined with you in your sheets. You’re not mad at him for keeping your relationship private, but it’s not like you hate the idea of him showing you off or you, him.
You don’t care if your brother finds out. He’d get over it, but your brother’s a bitch when he wants to be. Though you’ve dealt with him for most of your life, it would be nothing new.
So, it confuses you why he’d want to doze off on your bed, risking facing your brother, and your silence doesn’t go unnoticed by him.
“I’m sorry for waking you up. I couldn’t sleep without you,” Leon mentions, words slurring from his drowsiness. If you were unable to sleep before, now you’re wide awake. He could’ve lied, saying that shitty recliner your brother got on a ‘deal’ was terrible support for his back. But no, he needed you just as much as you needed him. 
“I missed you too,” you reply, nose almost touching his as you rest your head on his pillow. Every moment shared between you two, you can’t help but admire him. He’s so pretty, even like this. Blonde hair draped messily onto your pillow, his cheeks rosy, and his half-lidded eyes shine brighter than any of the stars you’ve gazed at.
A grin graces his usual pouty lips. Leaning over, he presses his mouth to yours — it’s less lust and more intimate, reminding you of the first kiss you shared. You had never been more grateful for your dumbass brother getting locked in the theatre’s bathroom stall.
Your mom had forced you to pick up your little brother and his friend from the movie theatre, and you hadn’t anticipated his cute friend, whom you may have liked, sitting in the passenger seat as you both waited begrudgingly for your brother.
You had seen him around, playing fighter games with your brother on his PS1 in the living room. He was your favourite of his friends. Not only was he handsome, but he was also a good influence on your troublesome brother. And you may have developed a teensy crush on him. You didn’t take it seriously because you’re his best friend’s sibling — why would he even consider you an option?
Until that evening when he proved you wrong, your brother was gone for 20 minutes, and you had no other option but to talk to the boy. He was a bit awkward, you were too, but you both began talking and surprisingly hit it off. 
After mindless chatter, he confessed, which confused you til no end. He really wanted you? Your silence startled the poor boy, ultimately leading you to return his feelings with a simple kiss to end the night.
But it's different now as you entangle your fingers into his hair, tugging softly, a soft whimper falls from his parted lips — why was everything about him so pretty?
“Don’t be so loud, baby. Do you want him to hear you?” you whispered teasingly against his lips. His warm hands trail under your sleep shirt and grip your hips roughly.
“Fuck off,” he huffs quietly. The walls are thin, incredibly so. You’ve heard the movies Leon and your brother were watching during the night, and you’re sure they’ve heard you listening to music, so it was plausible that he might hear Leon’s moans and whines, but your brother slept like a rock.
And, even though the prospect of people knowing how good you please Leon was hot. The mortification of your brother, let alone your mother catching you, certainly was not.
Taking your hand in his, he guides it to his crotch, his erection straining his plaid pyjama pants. He lets you feel how badly he wants you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and leaving kisses down the column of your throat. 
The sun slips into your room through the gap in your curtains, and you ponder how long you’ve been making out to get him so aroused. 
“Let me feel you, baby,” Leon breathed into the crook of your neck. Your hand slips into his pants, fingers teasing the head of his sensitive cock, stringy precum sticking to them. Your own arousal pools in your underwear, clinging to your drenched cunt. 
Deft fingers encircle his shaft, lazily stroking the base of his dick. Between shared kisses, Leon sneaks his hand into your shorts and underwear, rubbing your needy clit, and a sharp whimper falls from your lips. He tantalizingly glides his fingers through your slicked folds, teasing your sensitive nub with each pass of his digits.
The movements of your hand on his cock become messy and frantic, precum continuing to spill onto the material of his pants with each buck of his hip. 
You’re not faring better when he plunges his fingers into your tight hole, thrusting, resulting in your cunt producing slick and embarrassing noises. Your combined gasps and whines fill the room despite being quelled by each other’s lips. 
You melt away in each other's arms, forgetting about the conflict that would arise if anyone found you and him in such a predicament.
Drawing away from your swollen lips, Leon stills his fingers in your pussy, pulling them out, and you cease your hand on his dick. He groans at the loss of pleasure from your hands and the slick accumulated on his digits, unaware he made you so wet for him. 
“Can I cum inside you, angel?” he whispers breathlessly into your ear. He’s thoroughly lost in pleasure, uncaring if your brother finds him knuckles deep into your cunt. His cheeks are flushed pink, the blush leading to his chest under his black graphic tee. Chest heaving up and down with each breath as he admires your equally fucked out expression.  
“Mhm, okay,” you hummed, and Leon shifted his back flat on the mattress, allowing you to straddle him with shaky thighs when you rid yourself of your shorts and underwear. Leon’s palms instinctively went to your waist, gripping the flesh as he stabilised you, your ass sitting flushed to his clad thighs.
His shirt rides up, exposing his v-line dipping into his pants. Gasping softly when the fabric of his pants grazed his sensitive head, your hands eagerly dragged them down, revealing his pretty dick, flushed red to the tip oozing with precum. 
Hovering over him, you guide his cock through your glistening folds with your hand's help. You collectively groan when you slide down his cock, taking every inch of him into your tight hole. As you adjust to his size and girth, you lean down, kissing him as he encircles his arms around your waist.
You rock your hips gently, and Leon groans into your parted lips. He trails his lips to your collarbone, biting on the exposed flesh. A sudden moan escapes you when he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. His needy and feverish behaviour reminds you of your first time together. 
The squeaky opening of the door opposing your room results in you halting your movement on top of Leon, and he whines in protest. You clasp your hand over his mouth, glaring at him. With the tightening hold of your waist and the muffled moans, Leon is acting careless. He doesn’t give a fuck about your brother right now, too focused on the constricting grasp your velvety walls have on his throbbing cock.
The footsteps pad down the hallway, and you assume your brother is making his way down the stairs. 
“Be a good boy f’me, Leon,” you whisper, moving your hand away from his face. You don’t know what overcame him for him to be acting so recklessly. Cupping his blotchy red cheeks, you note how dazed he looks, his blue irises hidden in his dilated pupils.
“Ah, don’t stop fucking me,” he breathed in response, his hips continuing to rut into your warm cunt. The intimacy of it all makes it even more challenging to delay his release, you moving up and down his cock, riding him slowly and passionately in the morning, beams of sun sprinkling into the room, setting the euphoric scene. 
It almost makes him forget the absurdity of it. Letting his best friend’s sibling fuck him into an incoherent mess at 6 in the morning, yet he regrets nothing. He can’t help but grip your soft thighs encompassing him as he thrusts half-haphazardly into your hole, dripping down and sticking to his skin. 
He spills into you with a soft moan, staining your walls with his cum at the combination of your teasing words and soft lips on his.
“Good boy, Leon. You did so good,” you coo at him, and Leon whimpers at your praises and your tightening cunt around his overstimulated cock.
Slipping his softening dick out your hole, you collapse next to him, chest heaving as his cum trickles out of you, staining your thighs. Your eyes flutter shut, and drowsiness finally takes over your overworked body. 
Though, next to you, Leon brews in self-thought. He came after you did all the work, leaving you high and dry. What kind of boyfriend was he?
“You didn’t cum.”
“S’fine, Leon. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you grumbled, blinking your eyes open to glimpse at him. He’s pouting, and despite how endearing you found it when he couldn’t control himself around you, cumming prematurely like some bumbling virgin (he was), Leon still feels like a selfish lover.
“I can still make you cum. Please? You deserve it.” Before you can disagree with him, your brother is awake downstairs, probably looking for him — Leon quickly situates himself between your thighs, eager to satisfy you.
“Y- Yeah, okay, sure,” you stammered, because how could you deny your pretty boy, peering up at you through his long lashes between your thighs?
Spreading your thighs open, hooking them over his shoulders, Leon admires his cum leaking out your hole, stretched out due to his fat cock. You feel bashful as he marvels at your stuffed cunt, moaning in surprise when a glob of his spit falls onto your messy folds mixing with his release.
Hungrily he laps at your cunt, his skilful tongue nudging your overly responsive clit. Leon loves to make you cum with his mouth. He loves to make you feel good, and it’s dirty the way he grinds his once again hardening cock against your sheets, chasing the friction while he messily eats you out, your cunt dripping with arousal mixing with his cum.
You entangle your fingers into his hair, shoving his pretty face further into your cunt, your back arching. Biting your lip, you nearly draw blood, trying to conceal your groans.
He enjoys your pussy like it’s the main course after an appetiser, tasting his salty cum and your contrasting sweet juices as he delves his tongue into your hole. His fingers rub your throbbing clit, and your thighs shake around his head. Leon’s muffled moans and whines reverberate throughout your body, adding heat to the coiling in your tummy. 
“Am I doin’ a good job?” he questions, desperate to be good enough for you before he returns to your cunt, dragging his tongue flat against you.
“You’re amazing, baby. ‘M so close.” His nails dig into the fat of your thighs, leaving indents. You roughly pull at his hair as you climax, your body trembling when Leon moans into you. 
He continues to sloppily make out with your pussy even after your high. When he pulls away from you, a gloss of your combined cum stains his plush lips. He kisses you softly, allowing you to taste both him and you on his lips. 
He helps you into your shorts, pulling his pants up, attempting to look presentable, which is unlikely with the dried cum that stains the fabric of his PJs. He lays in your bed with you, cosying up to you with him in your arms, face in your chest. Caught up in his fantasies, he fails to face reality.
“I think you should leave. My brother might be looking for you,” you mumbled into his hair. Leon huffs in annoyance before untwining with your limbs. He wants to ask since when do you care so much about such trivial things, but he complies. He knows you’re just looking out for him.
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vmpiires · 13 days
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﹆₊注意‧₊˚ PAY ATTENTION TO ME, KAMO CHOSO
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ your boyfriend has been on the game for the whole day. why not distract him a little? wc, 1.23K. dark mode recommended.
␥ note. this idea had me giggling and kickin my feet. i’m back from my “break”. and did yall see the eclipse monday? it was mad pretty. also with gamer!choso, he strikes me as a destiny 2/valorant/overwatch player. hope ya enjoy the storyyyy. reblog to support meeee
␥ tags. gamer!choso, reader is getting bored watching choso play, smut, riding him while he plays his game, female anatomy, etc. lmk if i missed anything
␥ misc. masterlist AO3
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perched on the edge of the bed, you watched as your boyfriend choso raged and fumed at his teammates, their second loss in a single hour driving him to madness. his body was taut and rigid, every muscle coiled with tension as his nimble fingers flew across the keyboard, navigating the character with precision.
you sat there, wishing those hands were on you, exploring every inch of your body instead of his loadout before starting another round. the room was filled with the sound of clicking keys and expletives as if a storm was brewing within the small space.
your gaze remained fixated on the back of choso's head, tracing every strand of his obsidian hair that flowed from his low ponytail and clung to the pale skin of his neck.
the rest of his hair framed his face in a silken curtain, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and cheekbones. you couldn't help but study every minute detail, from the way strands danced in the breeze to the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his skin.
the deafening roar of weapons firing and the frustrated mutterings of choso echoed through the air, seeming to last for an eternity before the match finally came to an end.
with a jubilant shout, choso leapt up from his seat, celebrating his team's victory with wild enthusiasm. your nostrils flared in annoyance and your shoulders slumped in disappointment, but then a spark of determination ignited in your mind as an idea popped into your head.
as you rose from the bed, the springs beneath it groaned in protest. choso was engrossed in his favorite game, his fingers moving deftly over the keyboard as he swiftly maneuvered the controls. you straddled him, feeling the creak of his chair as you settled onto his lap.
choso's smile widened as he glanced up at you, then quickly leaned in to kiss your head before returning his attention to the screen. A warm flush spread across your cheeks and your lips couldn't help but curve into a delighted grin.
"choso," you prodded playfully. "you've been playing valorant since we woke up…are you sure there isn't something else you’d rather do, something more fun?" the room was filled with the glow of the computer screen, but all you wanted was some time with your boyfriend and doing something more fun than sitting inside playing video games all day.
choso let out a heavy sigh, his brow furrowing as he spoke. "i know," he said, his deep voice carrying a hint of frustration. "but listen, baby, just a couple more games and i'll get off. we can do whatever you want, okay?"
his proposal sounded intriguing, but your impatience was growing with each passing second. without much thought, you agreed to choso's request and soon found yourself removing your shorts. he didn't even notice, too focused on claiming another victory in his game.
you took a moment to study the man before you. his grey joggers were neatly tied in a knot at his waist, emphasizing the noticeable bulge beneath the cloth. your gaze traveled up to meet his intense violet eyes, which sparkled with determination as he focused on the screen in front of him. it was the same look he gave you when he pounded into you after a stressful day, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
with furtive glances around the room, you leaned forward and gently tugged at the strings of his pants, slowly pulling down both his joggers and boxers. despite your efforts to be discreet, you couldn't help but marvel at the thought of being caught. choso seemed completely oblivious, not even paying you any mind.
once his pants were low enough for you to access, you carefully adjusted yourself onto his lap and positioned yourself above his erect shaft. as you made yourself comfortable, you couldn't help but smirk at how unaware he was. how could he not notice someone pulling his pants off or feel your drenched core pressing against him?
your slick coated his length as you dragged it teasingly against him, reveling in the knowledge that anyone would have noticed such blatant actions. but choso remained blissfully unaware, lost in his own thoughts as you took control of the situation.
choso was completely lost in his video game, the bright graphics and music consuming his senses. he barely noticed when you wrapped your arms around his body, pressing yourself closer and grinding against him, small whimpers escaping your lips. it wasn't until he felt your movements become more urgent that he snapped back to reality.
he let out a low groan as he tried to focus on both the game and the pleasure you were giving him. but it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to do so. "fuck, couldn't you wait?" he strained, feeling his breath getting heavier as he rolled his hips back against yours. his vision started to blur as the sensations overtook him.
choso bit down on his lower lip, trying to hold onto his control as you moaned in his ear. "you were taking too long," you finally replied, panting slightly. the chair beneath you both creaked under your weight as your hips continued to grind against each other, the room filled with the sounds of the game and your shared desire.
as the game drew to a close, choso struggled to concentrate on finishing as your urgent movements pressed against him. the rhythm of your body, shifting from slow to fast, kept him on edge. your moans and cries drowned out the sounds of the game, overwhelming his senses.
tears glistened in your eyes, reflecting the intensity of your desire. choso's heart raced as he tried to keep up with your escalating passion. each touch and kiss was like a fire burning through his veins, igniting a deep desire within him. as the intensity grew, he found himself lost in the moment, completely consumed by you.
as the intensity grew, your mouth began to salivate, and drool escaped from your parted lips. the sensation of choso's body against yours was overwhelming, and you could feel him nearing his climax. your moans echoed in the room, mingling with his. your nails dug deeper into his back, leaving marks symbolizing this passionate moment.
just as choso reached his peak, so did you. warm liquid spurted from his tip and onto his chair and thigh, evidence of the pleasure he had experienced with you. during the aftermath, your fluids mingled with his, coating his now softened shaft. you put your head down on his shoulder, your breath hitting his skin as you tried to catch your breath.
you were about to move yourself off of choso but you felt his arm squeeze tightly around your waist. he kissed your neck and moved up to your ear. "you made me lose my game," he whispered, eyeing his computer screen that showed a death screen.
a mischievous smirk played at the corners of your lips as you looked at him, "well, i can't say i feel bad or whatever," you teased. "i think a little distraction was exactly what you needed." the air between the two of you crackled with energy as you waited for his response, ready to pounce with more playful banter. choso rolled his eyes.
“whatever. next time i’m locking you out,” choso grumbled, finally letting you get up.
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⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.
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sparkrls · 2 months
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delayed proposal
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MASTERLIST
Summary: in which Harry’s got a few secrets up his sleeve and Y/N just wants to know if he’s going to propose
Author’s Note: this is the blurb i was talking about with bandmates!harry x y/n. remember to like and reblog because i crave validation. love ya <3
Word Count: 1.1k
•••
“Are you going to propose soon?” Was the last question Harry expected to be uttered out of Y/N’s bright pink lips.
It was just another Sunday night, the couple trying to enjoy those last fleeting moments of weekend relaxation before Monday arrived with the usual burden and obligations of being working adults.
In little less than 12 hours, Y/N would be back to her 9-5 job being an assistant to a high-class executive of a finance company. Her boss had too much authority for being so irresponsible and more money than anyone would need in a lifetime. What a luxury it must be to have your dad pass down a company you didn’t know how to run down to you.
Her boss wasn’t a horrible person, he was quite respectful and kind when asking her to do tasks, he was just a very exploitative executive. He had learned from his father to be unbending and demanding.
Y/N’s work paid a good wage, enough for her to pay her bills and still have a bit left. She wasn’t one to buy luxuries, though, preferring to save money up so she could one day quit her 9-5. And then dedicate herself to the things she did every day after work: picked up her red electric guitar, adorned a black skirt that bordered on too short, and perform for (currently small) crowds of people who cheered her band on as they played.
There wasn’t anything Y/N loved quite as much as the rush of being on stage, the bass making the stage shake with each loud thrum, sticks clashing with plates of a drum and the velvet voice of an angel, Harry singing through the microphone and his eyes on her and her fingers moving over the fret of the guitar.
They played small clubs and rundown bars, getting payed a poor wage for the extrenous effort used to get four adults with full time jobs to align their schedules in order to rehearse. Sometimes all they got were free drinks, but they took what they could get and did it for the love of it.
That was how they got here, on Harry’s couch, his arm draped around her shoulders, and her head on his chest. They were watching Bluey, the way they did most nights they spent together. He would always roll his eyes when Y/N suggested it, pretending to hate it, but she knew it was his favorite show, and he always cried at the emotional episodes.
Their instruments lay forgotten on the table, his blue guitar next to her red one, as they’d spent most of the afternoon drinking beer and writing a new song.
It was a question that had been lingering in the back of Y/N’s mind, and she wasn’t quite sure why she chose that moment to blurt it out, but she did. “Are you going to propose soon?”
Harry’s gaze turned to her, eyebrows raised in light surprise, a small breath exhaled between his lips in a faint chuckle. “What?”
It was too late to take it back, so Y/N sat up and told him, “You’ve always talked about wanting to settle down and get married.” His features remained in small confusion. “We’ve been together for a while. Are you going to marry me?”
“Well, of course I’m going to marry you,” Harry said, like it were some scientific fact that everyone knew and was unchangeable. “You’re my forever, baby. I’ve written about a hundred songs about it.” His lips turned up in a smile. That smile he wore every time he told her he loved her, with a cocky and smug edge as if he were teasing her, laced with affection.
“I don’t mean we have to get married this instant, but I just, I guess we’ve never talked about if we were getting engaged or when and I-“
“Baby,” Harry cut off her nervous rambling, chuckling. He kissed her, soft lips with cracked edges from the cold and dry weather. “I already know what ring I’m going to buy. I’m just saving up for it.”
Y/N’s mind blanked for a moment. “You’re already thinking about rings?” Her lips parted in surprise.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, silly girl. You’re not the only one thinking about marriage.” He smiled at her, reassuring her that he was just teasing. “In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m hopelessly in love with you.”
“Oh,” Y/N said, still in shock. Here she was, getting all nervous and insecure about marriage and he had already been planning to propose. Her question now seemed a bit foolish. She looked up at him and said, “You know I don’t need some needlessly expensive ring, right? You could buy it on Aliexpress and I couldn’t care less.”
Harry looked at her with slight amusement. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Y/N said with a small nod. “It’s stupid to spend money on a ring when it doesn’t make much of a difference.”
Harry sighed. “Baby, it’s not about the ring being expensive. It’s about the ring being a symbol for my devotion to you. And I want my devotion to be apparent in the beauty of it.” He tapped the finger on her left hand where the ring would lay. “No, I don’t have to spend money on an expensive ring. That’s why I’m not just getting a huge diamond. I’m getting something you’ll love.”
“But it’s expensive and it’s a waste of money on a simple ring-“
“Is it just a ring? Or is it a symbol of matrimony, of us being together forever?” Harry said gently, correcting her statement. “Not to mention you’re going to be wearing that ring every day ‘till you die.”
Y/N made a sound of contradiction. “Unless we get a divorce.”
Harry stared at her blankly for a few moments. He deadpanned, “Not funny.”
“Kinda funny,” Y/N said with a small smile.
She waited for Harry’s stern gaze to soften with adoration the way it always did. It only took a few moments for his composure to crumble and he leaned in close to her. His nose grazed against hers as he muttered quietly, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
The way he said it sounded like a declaration of love. Everything he said to her did. Because his love could never be called in to doubt. It shone through every word he uttered, every song he wrote, every thing he did.
His lips locked onto hers once again, the tension in his muscles melting away as if all he needed to feel complete was to be pressed against her. To have every inch of skin surrounding her, the taste of beer still on her tongue, and the scent of spring enveloping his senses.
“I’m going to marry you,” Harry uttered, an oath murmured against her lips before placing a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her close once again.
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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months
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Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Monday)
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Summary | Day One of your trip to the lake house with Joel and you can't keep your hands off each other. It's all about making up for lost time.
Warnings | Fluff, 2(3?) lovesick fools, mentions of food and alcohol, explicit smut, breeding kink, oral sex (F & M Receiving), unprotected PiV sex (We can't all have a sexy Joel Miller to make us pregnant, please wrap it up), talk of UTI's (Honestly, not worth it, PEE AFTER SEX PLEASE), as always, Tommy kinda getting cucked and Joel just being Joel.
Word Count | 5.1K
Authors Note | The love that this series has received already, without me even posting a chapter has been overwhelming and I am so grateful to you all for being so enthusiastic about this. This little trio means more to me than you can ever imagine and I'm so incredibly happy to be able to bring them back to you. I would love to know what you think about this first instalment, so please leave your comments, reblogs and my ask box is always open if you want to scream about this with me. If you enjoyed this then please consider leaving me a tip on my Ko-Fi here.
SEASON TWO OF TRIAL & ERROR. Read the first instalment here (This probably won't make sense without it.)
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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You press a kiss to Joshua’s forehead as he keeps his hands around Tommy’s leg. He’s four now, toddling about, like a perfect little human, and still, whenever you see him, your chest swells with happiness and love in a way you didn’t think would still be possible. 
“You be good for daddy, okay?” You smile, ruffling the hair on top of his head, before bending down to his height, opening your arms for him to fall into as he hugs you, “I’ll be back soon, I promise, and I’ll call every day.” 
A whole week away from your baby boy was daunting. You don’t think you’ve ever spent longer than twenty-four hours without him, but you know he’s in good hands. His dad knows what he’s doing, you’re not worried. 
Tommy has picked Joshua up into his arms, the little boy clutching onto the collar of his shirt as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. You smile into his kiss, letting your hands drop to his waist to pull him a little closer to you. 
“You make sure you give the old man a run for his money, okay?” He smirks when he pulls away, hand running over your hair. 
“He’ll wish he hadn’t come up with idea.” You whisper back, one last chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips and Joshua’s head. 
“You ready?” Joel asks from across the truck, sliding into the driver’s side. 
“Yeah, I’m ready.”  
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Joel is nervous. He very rarely feels like this in his older age, especially when it comes to speaking to Tommy. They’ve grown up together, he basically helped raise him, had countless awkward conversations with him, including the one that got him here in the first place, waiting patiently for his birthday so he can steal away his girl and have one night with her all to himself, but he’s still nervous. 
It's the end of summer, Sarah will be leaving for college in the next few days, dead set on becoming a doctor, so Joel’s decided the only way to celebrate his little girl going off and doing what neither he nor his brother could do, and to ease the impending loneliness he’s going to feel at having this big house all to himself, is a cookout. He’s fed everyone, spent time keeping Joshua amused so you and Tommy can eat in peace, and now, a few beers in, he thinks he’s ready. 
He walks down to Tommy, who is cleaning the grill off, listening to the sounds of you and Sarah chasing Joshua around his garden, trying to tire him out. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes and they share a smile between them. 
“You alright, brother?” Tommy asks, brushing down the last of the grill. 
“I’m good,” Joel replies simply, “But I have something to ask you, a favour.” 
“Anythin’ for you brother.” He smiles, setting down his cleaning tools and picking up his beer. 
“I know we never discussed it, between us, but what happens between me and her, it makes me happy, y’know?” 
Tommy’s smile gets bigger, and Joel knows that because it’s all his brother has ever wanted for him, to be happy, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful for the man in front of him. 
“I know second time around it’s takin’ longer than we’d all like,” Joel sighs, you’d all been trying for months for the second baby – people had told you second time around was easier, but whoever decided that was a damn liar, “I just wondered, y’know, ‘cause she’s stressed and all, whether I could take her away?” 
“Take her away?” Tommy asks, eyebrow cocked with his lips on the bottle of beer. 
“Not from you,” Joel stutters, “Just for a week, somewhere quiet, I don’t know, the lake or somethin’, just see if her relaxin’ might help things.” 
“Where were you thinkin’?” Tommy asks. 
“I’ve been lookin’ and there are some nice places up in Colorado,” He rubs the back of his neck, not wanting to admit to his brother that he’s trawled the internet late at night trying to find somewhere he can afford, that in his mind he has it all planned out, “Close enough that we can get back if anything happens with Josh.” 
“I don’t know that she’ll get the time from work, Joel,” Tommy sighs, “It ain’t that I don’t want her to go, I know she’d love the time away, but she’s pressed.” 
Joel turns around and follows Tommy’s eyeline, you’re sitting on the grass with your back against the veranda, watching as Sarah plays with Joshua a little further away. Your head is leant back against the wood and Joel can tell you’re exhausted. A full time job, plus being a mother, whilst Joel’s got Tommy working longer and longer hours so they can finally get their business off the ground properly. 
“When was the last time she was anythin’ but a mother?” Joel asks, turning back to his brother, “Come on brother,” He pleads, “We can give her a break, give her the chance to be just her again,” Then he decides to sweeten the deal, “I’ll even give you the week off work.” 
“You really don’t have to beg me Joel,” Tommy insists with a smile, “If she can get the time off work, then you can have her.” 
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You’re three hours into the drive. Joel has insisted he can make it in one go, with a few comfort breaks on the way, despite it being a twelve-hour drive, but you’re not going to argue with him. He’s well and truly in charge this week and you’re more than happy to relinquish control to him. It’s nice, having someone else worry about you, whether you’ve got enough snacks to keep you going, whether you need to stop to use the bathroom, whether you need to close your eyes and take a nap, as opposed to you worrying about doing that for your son. 
Joel is tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Sarah had made him a mixtape before she left, supposedly full of the songs they used to listen to in the car together, though you can’t imagine Joel had allowed much Taylor Swift judging by how fast he was to press skip when the familiar sounds of Teardrops On My Guitar started playing through the truck. He’s just finished singing along to Bon Jovi, a smile on his face as he looks at you. 
“I love your voice,” You smile, running your fingers lightly up the arm that is resting near you, his warm palm on your thigh as he drives, “It’s not too late y’know, to make it big with your guitar.” 
He snorts but with a smile on his face, “I was never any good at bein’ on stage, always got choked up and froze,” He turns his head to you a little, “I’m happy to just save my singin’ for you.” 
The CD he’s got playing skips to the next song and the sounds of Destiny’s Child’s Survivor start filling the car. Joel is already moving to press skip so you grip hold of his wrist. 
“Don’t you dare,” You warn, “This is such a good song.” 
“Sweetheart, come on, you don’t really wanna listen to it.” 
You chuckle at him, “You’ve listened to everything you wanted, just give me this one song.”
“If I’m lettin’ you listen to this,” He growls, “Then you’re gonna owe me.” 
“Is that right?” You play coy, “And what do you deem suitable payment for a single Destiny’s Child song?” 
You watch his face, still trained straight ahead on the highway, but with that smirk that you always love to see from him. It means he’s thinking something filthy and filthy Joel is something you simply cannot get enough of. You watch as his eyes meet yours momentarily and then drop to his lap. If you hadn’t been so focused on his face, you’d have missed it, but your eyes trail down his body where you can already see him growing in his jeans. 
You lean back in your seat, nodding to yourself, “Joel Miller, grown man, wants me to suck his cock whilst he drives, just like a horny teenager.” 
He brings a hand to the back of your neck and squeezes, trying to gently drag you forward, “I’ve waited a fuckin’ year to have you to myself, pretty girl,” He speaks lowly, “Didn’t think I was gonna wait for a bed, did you?” 
You chuckle but move to undo your seatbelt. He keeps his hand resting on the back of your neck, but it’s gentle. He doesn’t pull you towards him, just waits for you to set your own pace. You reach across the console of the truck with your hand, palming him through his jeans, reveling in the way his head tips back and he lets a long sigh fall from his lips. 
“You missed me, huh?” You tease, bringing your fingers up to the button on his jeans, you should have known he had something planned when he turned up without his belt on. 
“You seriously askin’ me if I missed you?” He asks as you pop the button and drag his zipper down slowly. 
You lean over, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the scruff on his jaw, “Boost my ego, Joel Miller,” You whisper into his ear as your hand sneaks underneath the waistband of his underwear, “Tell me how much you missed me.” 
He lifts his hips for you a little so you can shuck his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out. You lean over, Joel’s wide palm still resting at the nape of your neck as you fist him, running your hand up and down his length. If you were a stronger woman you’d tease him, but you’re as desperate for him as he is for you, so you bring your mouth right to him, swirling your tongue over his tip, lapping up the drops of pre-cum that are waiting for you. 
Your wrap your lips around him and swallow him down as far as you can take him without him hitting the back of your throat, using your hand to pump the length your mouth doesn’t reach, swirling your tongue around him as you pull your mouth back up. 
“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl,” Joel groans above you, hand tangling in your hair as you continue to bob your head up and down on him, “You’ve done this before.” 
It strikes you in this moment that in the four or so years you and Joel have been together like this, he’s never once let you put your mouth on him like this. Before Joshua, he had always been hyper focused on your pleasure, whether you felt good, and in the years since, in those few short hours you had together, he’d never once asked for it, had stopped you when you tried, he’d only ever come for you when he was fucking you. 
You sneak your hand lower, cupping his heavy balls in the palm of your hand as you take him further down your throat. The added sensation of your hand has him bucking his hips up into your mouth enough that you have to pull away from him, coughing and spluttering. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” He worries, taking his hand from your head, “Are you okay?” 
“Focus on the road, Miller,” You demand, moving to get right back down to business, “If I choke to death on your cock that’s my business.” 
“Kinda hard to focus on the road when I’m seconds away from filling your mouth, pretty girl.” You can hear the strain in his voice as you start working his cock again, pulling off only long enough to reply. 
“That’s what I want,” You whisper, “You gonna come down my throat Joel?” 
“That what you want?” He grunts from above you. 
“Wanna taste you.” 
“Well pretty girl, you just keep goin’ and I’ll give you what you want.” 
He stays true to his word, and after a few short minutes, he’s gripping a fistful of your hair, breathing your name out, as his cum spreads across your tongue. Salty, masculine, musky, but distinctly Joel, and you think from this moment on you might be hooked on the taste of him. 
You pull back up, sitting back in your seat, Joel turning his head to watch you as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out just enough to show him what he’s given you. Then, you close your mouth and swallow every last drop, wiping the small amount that had gathered in the corner of your lips back into your mouth.
“Jesus,” Joel breathes, “You’re somethin’ else, baby.” 
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It’s late evening by the time you and Joel arrive at the lake house. It’s dark so you can’t properly take in your surroundings, but it’s peaceful and quiet, and when you step out of the truck, it smells different. The smell of pine and fresh water fills your senses and it’s at this moment you realise you really needed this – a break away from the suburbs and the city you’re so used to. 
You make a simple dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables, washed down with lukewarm beer that hadn’t had a chance to properly chill. Joel insists on doing the dishes, silently cursing he didn’t pick a cabin with a dishwasher. The more time he has to spend washing up, the less time he can spend buried deep inside you, which is what he wants most right now. He’s hungrier for you than he’s ever been, you having refused his offer to pull off the highway so he could return the favour earlier. 
You’ve taken two fresh beers from the fridge outside with you. He can see you sitting on the small swing seat on the porch, taking small sips of your drink as you wait for him. You’re on the phone to Tommy, letting him know you arrived safely and then he can hear your voice change as you speak to Joshua – more high-pitched than normal. The conversation doesn’t last long, Tommy clearly needing to put Joshua down to sleep, so you’re hanging up the phone in no time. He notices you shiver through the window, so he digs out one of his flannels from his bag that hasn’t made it to the bedroom and takes it out with him, draping it across your shoulders. He takes a seat next to you, his thigh touching yours, as you hand him his beer. 
“I bet this view will be beautiful tomorrow.” You muse, taking another sip of your drink. 
“I don’t know,” He speaks back softly, looking at you, “It’s pretty perfect to me already.” 
You can feel your face grow hot at the compliment, but you smile. Joel drapes his arm across the back of the bench, and you automatically shuffle in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand trails up and down your arm. 
“So, how have you really been in that house without Sarah these past few weeks?” You ask, hand coming to rest on his thigh. 
“It’s been strange,” He answers honestly, “But I’m so proud of her, my little girl training to be a doctor.” 
Your heart swells because you’re pretty fucking proud of her as well. She’d worked so hard to get into medical school the past few years, finally settling on what it was that she wanted to do, and you have no doubt that she’s going to find some incredible medical breakthrough during her career. 
“Still don’t know where she got her brains from,” He grumbles, “Sure as hell ain’t from the side me and Tommy got ours.” 
You swat your hand to his thigh, “What have I told you about being kind to yourself?” You chastise, earning a low laugh from him, “Don’t sell yourself short, you started your own business Joel, not everyone can do that.” 
He nods, but you think it’s more to placate you than understanding his worth, but you decide to let it lie, “You know, she’s not far from here,” You offer, “If you wanted, you could go and see her.” 
“I’d like that,” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll call her tomorrow, gonna have to think of a white lie as to why I’m all the way out here though.” 
“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.” 
It’s silent for a while between you. Listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees is soothing. Pair that with Joel’s gentle tracing up and down your arm, and the way he’s slowly rocking the swing with his foot on the ground, and you’re almost ready to fall asleep. 
“Hey Joel,” You whisper, leaning your head up towards him, he answers with a hum of acknowledgement, “You wanna take me to bed?” 
He leans down, pressing his lips softly to your own, “I thought you’d never ask.” 
You stand, extending your hand to his, which he takes, letting you lead him back inside. Because he’s used to it, the routine of checking the locks at home, he makes sure he double checks all the doors are locked before letting you take hold of his hand again and lead him down the small hallway, into the master bedroom at the end. 
The bed is huge, white sheets resting on top, with plump pillows at the end. If it wasn’t for Joel’s hands on your hips and his lips on your neck, you’d be focused on falling into it and going straight to sleep. He’s walking you forward, trailing wet kisses down the expanse of your neck, then he turns you once your knees hit the foot of the bed. 
He brings his palms to your face, cradling it in his hands as he leans down, pressing those soft, plush lips to your own. You bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush to his broad frame as he opens his mouth, tongue licking into your own mouth as he deepens your kiss. It’s the first time he’s kissed you since last year, both of you having some form of silent agreement with each other that Tommy doesn’t need to see that. He see’s everything else you do when you’re together, when he’s watching his brother fill you up, this here, when Joel kisses the very breath from your lungs, this is just for the two of you. 
With his mouth still latched to yours, he uses his hands to push his flannel from your shoulders, before he reaches down and tugs your own shirt from where it was tucked into your jeans. He takes his time, unbuttoning it one notch at a time, until that too is pushed from your shoulders. You don’t even realise he’s undone the button on your jeans until he’s pushing them down your hips – too focused on the way his mouth tastes. 
“Sit down, pretty girl,” He whispers, dropping to his knees, “Been drivin’ me wild all day,” His hands trail up your legs, parting them in front of his face when you perch on the edge of the bed, “Thinkin’ about you all wet down here, after you sucked my cock.” 
He runs his thumb over the front of your panties, tracing the seam of your pussy, which has indeed been completely soaked for him since you sucked him off. He presses his mouth, wet and hot, against the delicate skin of your thigh as you let your head drop back and a sigh to escape your mouth. His mouth comes to rest between the crook of your thigh, where the seam of your underwear is, and you think he might just pull them to the side and give you what you want, but instead, he starts a trail of kisses from the opposite knee, moving slowly up your other thigh until you’re squirming for him. 
“Don’t tease me,” You beg, running a hand through the curls on his head, “Make me feel good, Joel.” 
“This what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them off you when you lift yourself off the bed a little, “Want my mouth here?” 
His thumb runs up the seam of your pussy, the friction without the barrier of your panties delicious now. You spread your legs for him, heels resting on the bottom of the bed, baring your spread, aching cunt for him. His palms are resting on the inner part of your thighs now as he leans in, lips pressing a single chaste kiss to your clit. 
“Fuck,” You breathe out, chasing the feel of his lips as he pulls away, you almost whine until you feel him push one of his delightfully thick fingers straight into your weeping pussy, “Fuck Joel, holy shit.” 
He’s grinning up at you like the devil when you look down, pulling his finger out all the way before slipping it into his mouth to clean it off, “You been this wet all day?” He asks, thumb moving to gather the slick at your entrance to drag to your clit, moving in featherlight movements. 
“Y-yes,” You manage to choke out, “This is what you do to me.” 
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts his face right back where you want it, tongue licking a firm, wide strip from your weeping hole and up to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to place precise flicks on your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s so fucking good with his mouth it actually hurts. He’s managed to learn exactly how you like it, what combination of moves with his mouth and the addition of his fingers bring you over the edge the fastest and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. He slips two of his fingers back inside you, curling them straight up into that spot within you that makes you cry, lips sucking your clit into his mouth whilst his tongue still moves perfectly across you. 
“God fucking damn it, Joel,” You cry, fingers tugging at his hair as you push your pussy closer to his face, “Gonna make me come.” 
He doesn’t bother to pull his mouth away from you to tell you it’s okay like he usually does, just continues the movements just as they are until your crying his name out, the rope that was pulled taught inside you snapping as your pussy clenches around Joel’s fingers and you come so hard your vision blacks out for a moment.
You collapse down onto the bed, arms no longer able to hold you up as Joel takes his mouth from your clit, gently pulling his fingers from you. Without needing to be asked, you scoot up the bed, letting air fill your lungs. Your eyes are trained on Joel as he starts to undress in front of you, smirking at you when he drags his shirt over his head. 
“You should charge people for this,” You mumble, “Sure a lot of ladies would pay good money to watch you strip.” 
“Like this?” He chuckles, slowly undoing the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down painfully slow as you start humming, encouraging him to really put on a show, “Zip it.” He laughs, pushing his jeans down his legs, his cock hard and pressing against the thin material of his boxers. 
He shucks them off his body as well and you watch, captivated as he fists his cock, he is, next to his brother, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel Miller,” You breathe out as he clambers onto the bed, pulling you up slightly so he can take your bra off, “Do you know that?” 
His mouth is pressing kisses between your breasts, letting his teeth nibble small marks across your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You can feel his cock pressing between your folds, running up and down your pussy as he settles properly between your thighs. You run your hand through his hair as he trails his lips up to your face, peppering your jaw with kisses. 
“Can’t say I’ve been told much,” He whispers into your ear, “But I’ll take it.” 
You can feel him reach between you, base of his cock in his hand as he brings the tip to your slick cunt. He thrusts forward just a touch, giving you the tip, lips settling onto your own so he can swallow the small moans you let out as he inches deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out. You shift your hips underneath him, legs hitching around his waist. 
“Baby please,” He pleads, “You gotta give me a second,” His head dropping to the crook of your neck, “Fuck, how does it always feel like I’m fucking you for the first time?” 
You want to give him all the time in the world but you’re just as bad as he is. He needs to move, and he needs to move now otherwise you think you might actually die. 
“Please Joel,” You moan, rolling your hips up into his, hand still firmly tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, “You need to move.” 
“I ain’t gonna last, babygirl.” He groans as he pulls himself out and slams back into you. 
“Don’t care,” You moan as his lips attach themselves to your throat, “Just need to feel you.” 
He moves, placing his hands on either side of your head, pushing himself up, as he drags his cock from your tight heat and starts thrusting properly. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, two or three times a month for the past six months whilst you try for your second baby, but the way he feels inside of you never fails to set your body on fire. 
He’s always so big, and you feel so fucking full of him. You close your eyes and tilt your head back further into the mattress as he drives himself deeper into you, head of his cock brushing against your cervix. It’s pain and pleasure, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He makes you stupid when he fucks you like this. Focused on one thing, and one thing only. 
One of his hands clutches your chin, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “Look at me,” He demands, “Give me those beautiful eyes when I fuck you.” 
You do as you’re told, eyes opening and staring into his own chocolate orbs that are dark with lust. God, you love him. You know you shouldn’t love him this much, it’s dangerous, but he’s so fucking good to you, you can’t help yourself. 
“Good girl,” He praises, making your pussy clench around him, “Doin’ what you’re told, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?” 
“So good Joel,” You moan, fingers gripping the meat of his biceps as you hold onto him, hips rolling up to meet his with every thrust, “Want you to come for me.” 
“Yeah, want me to fill you up, pretty girl?” 
“Yes Joel!” You cry, “Fill me up baby, please.” 
His hips start to falter from their precise thrusts of before, he’s so fucking close, you can see it on his face, hear it in his growls. He dips his head back to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping along your collarbones as he pounds into you. He lets out one long moan of your name as he stills inside you, and you can feel the familiar warmth of his cum filling you up. He brings one of his hands down to cup your ass, lifting you up a little, as if he thinks the angle of your pelvis makes much of a difference when it comes to getting you pregnant. 
He groans into your neck as he slips out of you, letting your hips finally drop to the bed as he rolls off you, collapsing in a heap beside you as he catches his breath. You lean over, kiss pressed to his cheek with a mumble that you’ll be back in a minute once you’ve cleaned up, the pain of last month’s UTI still fresh in your mind after you fell asleep without going to the bathroom. 
When you return, two glasses of water in hand, he’s already pulled back the sheets and has settled himself back against the pillows. You hand him his glass, setting yours on the nightstand as you climb into bed, settling your aching bones against your own pillow when you realise this is uncharted territory with you and Joel. When you spend your one night with him, neither of you sleep – you spend as much time as you can connected, making each other feel good, and when he’s with you outside of that, with Tommy watching, or joining in, whichever he feels like doing that night, he’s always gone in a flash. You’ve never settled down to sleep next to him, you don’t know if he snores, you don’t know if he wants you to cuddle into his side and drift off to sleep together. 
“Stop thinkin’,” He sighs, “And c’mere.” 
You smile, crawling over the space between you as he moves his body down to lie flat on his back. You drape one of your arms over his tummy as his wraps around your shoulder, the other resting on your arm wrapped around him. You bring your leg up to wrap between his and let out a sigh. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted this,” He whispers quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Somethin’ so simple as fallin’ asleep with you.” 
You hum against his warm skin, letting the thumb that’s resting on his tummy start rubbing small circles on his skin, “It’s nice,” You speak, punctuating it with a yawn, “Hope you don’t snore though.” 
His chest rising with a chuckle as he pulls you tighter to his body, “Go to sleep, babygirl,” He speaks quietly, “I’m gonna wear you out tomorrow.” 
You don’t know whether he’s referring to the hike he wanted to take you on through the mountains, or the fact that you both know what you’re really here for. Is he going to keep you right here on this mattress all day, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore? Either way, being here with Joel has already been the ointment you needed for your stress. Your shoulders are more relaxed, and you don’t have the headache you usually do at the end of the day from gritting your teeth. Whatever he’s got planned, you’re going to take it, and for now, you’re going to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that this time, though longer than you ever get, is still fleeting. You can worry about that another day. 
Taglist: @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @kaitangatatacos @paleidiot
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bloatedandalone04 · 6 months
Text
You Made it Shine
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➪the one where you’ve been feeling a bit lonely, and leon intends on making it up to you.
Warnings: first time daddy kink writer - be gentle, age gap, 18+, daddy kink obvi, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (leon just really wants to knock you up), breeding kink, swearing, scratching, biting, hair pulling, choking, y’all are f r e a k y
Word Count: 4.3k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Thank you for 3.6k followers mwah
Some trash reality TV show played in the background while you flipped to another page in your textbook. You had been given a fucking stupid amount of homework to do by next Monday, and you were beginning to feel stressed out about it all. 
It didn’t help that you missed your boyfriend, either. 
Leon had been very busy lately, and you only really saw him when he got in bed with you after eleven PM. 
While you didn’t know much about what he did for work, you knew it required him to be gone a lot and he had to dedicate most of his time to it. 
You huff quietly as you scribble out a word you misspelt before trying again, glancing over at your phone when it went off from its place on the floor beside you. 
Daddy 💖: Gonna be another late night, I think. I’m sorry, baby, I know you wanted to watch that new movie. I promise we’ll get to it soon. Be home in a few hours ❤️
You huff again and quickly type out a message before tossing your phone aside, knowing damn well how childish you are acting, but also not caring at all. 
I’m bored, Leon. I miss you. Let me know when you have time for me. 
As you started to read over the notes you took during your lecture earlier today, your phone went off again within seconds of you sending that last text. 
Daddy 💖: Don’t be like that, princess, I’m feeling bad enough as it is. I’ll be home soon and then we can figure out a time that works for both of us. Only a few more weeks then I’ll get to use some of my unpaid days off, and I’ll be spending every one with you. 
You bite your lip and decide not to answer, already feeling a bit bad for how you acted in your previous message to him. 
Leon worked very hard and put in more hours than most people, and you knew he got into that kind of work early on in his life. He didn’t tell you really anything about his job, but you knew he started when he was twenty one and had been in the same field ever since, now at the age of thirty three. 
You were only twenty two, and you seriously couldn’t imagine putting yourself through half the things he did, so you had to appreciate his dedication, even if just a little bit. 
After reading for a while, you ventured off to yours and Leon’s shared room and changed into a lacy, black two piece pyjama set so you could be a bit more comfortable while you studied. 
You ate a few pieces of strawberries you had cut up for lunch earlier as you skimmed through your notes, the time passing by quicker than you thought it would. 
Before long the front door was swinging open and slamming shut, and the sound of heavy footsteps were heard approaching the living room. “Baby,” Leon rasped as he stood in the doorway. 
You look up at him from your spot on the carpet, your books and pages scattered around you. “Hi,”
Leon shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair next to the door before he was slowly crouching down and meeting your eye level. “Hi,” he said back. His eyes raked over the mess of papers and the tired look on your face, his heart aching a bit at how neglected you looked. “I was worried about you.”
You leaned into his touch when he reached over and ran his knuckles along the curve of your jaw. “Why?”
“You didn’t answer my text,” he stated as his gaze dipped down to your lips. 
Shrugging, you look back at your book. “I felt bad for how I acted,”
“For how you acted?” Leon laughed quietly and moved so he is kneeling next to you. “Baby, I’m the one who cancelled our plans, again. I’m the one who feels bad.” 
You tilt your head when his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. “It’s alright,” you murmured as you felt his lips softly brush the skin behind your ear. “Work comes first. I know that.”
“Not when it comes to you,” he corrected as he moved to pull you onto his lap right there on the living room floor. “You should know that, instead.”
You were finding it hard to focus with his body pressed right up against your back, and his hands running up and down the skin of your thighs, but you played it up as if his actions didn’t faze you. 
Until he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, moving upwards to whisper, “You look so pretty, baby,” and you just could not stop the shiver that ran through your body. “Did you wear this for me?” 
You were helpless as you nodded, glancing over at the time on your phone and seeing that Leon had only been at work for another hour before getting home, and not a few like he said. “Did you rush home for me?”
“Everything I do is for you,” he reminded you as he trailed his mouth along your shoulder blade. “Everyday, you’re on my mind, baby.”
You bite your lip as you turn your head so you can look into his annoyingly pretty eyes. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, you close your eyes as you lean back against him. “I missed you, daddy,”
Leon groaned and pressed a proper kiss to your mouth, slipping his hands under your shirt as he murmured, “I missed you, too, princess. Fuck, did I ever,”
You turn fully so you’re straddling his lap and grip his shoulders with your fingers. “Touch me,” you nearly begged, missing the feeling of his hands on your body after going without it for nearly two straight weeks. “Please.”
Leon cooed at your pout, reaching up to pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “My sweet girl,” he said, more so to himself. “I haven’t been taking very good care of you, have I?”
You shook your head and pressed your knees into the carpet on either side of his hips. “No, you always take good care of me,” you promised, tangling your hands in his hair. “I just miss you.”
He nodded and placed a noisy kiss on your lips. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore as his hands drifted lower, taking the lace of your panties between his fingers and pulling it down with him. “I’ll take care of you, like I always do.” He said against your mouth as he gently lifted you up and placed you down so your back is against the papers that were scattered all over the carpet. 
They crinkle under you, but you don’t care as he pulls the lace from your body and immediately replaces it with his lips. You sigh and jolt a bit as you reach down to grip his head with one hand. “Daddy,”
Leon grunted against your core and the vibrations had you bucking up against him. “That’s right, baby,” he muttered, running the tips of his fingers along your wet folds. “You needed your daddy, huh?”
“Always,” you answer, spreading your thighs a bit more as he further delved into you. “I always need you, Leon.” 
He hummed against your clit. “I need you, too,” he promised, wrapping his free arm around your thigh and pulling your body closer to his greedy mouth. “Every single fucking day I need you. You’ve made me so damn pathetic, princess.”
You moaned and arched your back a bit, further scrunching up the notes you took. “You’re so good to me, daddy,” you nearly whisper. “That doesn’t make you pathetic. It’s so attractive, you don’t even know how hot you are.”
Leon smiled up at you in appreciation. “I bet you don’t realize how hot you are, either, sweet girl,” he says. “And you taste so fucking good, I could stay down here forever.”
It was a sight that was nearly too hot to handle. Leon hadn’t even been home for five minutes before he was going down on you, still wearing his work clothes, which consisted of black jeans, a black shirt that fit him so well and showed off his toned chest, and boots. 
You always thought he looked too hot to be going to work, but then you realized that he simply looked too hot all the time. How you managed to get him all to yourself, you’d never know, but he is somehow completely obsessed with you in every possible way. 
“That’s fine with me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair and looking down at him. “I’m always so wet for you.”
Leon groaned loudly and began to fuck his fingers into your greedy core. “I know, sweet girl,” he mumbled, coating his fingers in your wetness with every thrust of his hand. “You’re so sensitive. I can just look at you and you’d get wet for me.”
“I can’t help it,” you say quietly. “You’re so hot, daddy.”
“I’m not teasing you, baby,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you. “Not at all. I love how much you need me and how much I turn you on. It’s the same way for me. You make me so hard, it’s painful sometimes.”
You gasp out a laugh that quickly turns into a moan when he curls his fingers in order to be able to reach your sweet spot. “Daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips up as best as you could against his firm hold. “Please.”
“I know, princess,” he hummed, fucking his fingers hard into you and loving the way your face scrunched up at the pleasure. “I know. You just need your daddy to make you come, huh?” 
“Please,” you say again, reaching down to grip his hand in yours. His other picked up the pace and his thumb brushed against your clit with every thrust. “Please.”
Leon kissed all along your thighs, never taking his eyes off your face. “I love it when you beg, baby,” he says. “But you don’t need to right now. I’m gonna get you off so good, I promise.”
“Leon,” you nearly yelled as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked on it harshly and felt as your thighs shook a bit.  He moved down when he felt your release coat his fingers, and delved his tongue within your walls to taste you. 
“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praised, sliding his sopping fingers out of you and licking them clean. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”
You whine and pull him down on top of you. “Please, daddy,” you begged, kissing him deeply as he settled between your thighs. “I need you. Want you to fuck me so badly.” 
He tsked, bracing himself by his forearms on either side of your head. Next to where your hair is sprawled out was a sheet from the lecture you had earlier, and Leon grinned at the small amount of drool that left your lips and landed on the paper. It smudged your name and made the ink bleed a bit, but you didn’t care at all. “Look at you,” he groaned, licking up the line of salvia from your mouth to your jaw. “My smart girl, all hot and bothered for me. You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?”
“Yes,” came your instant reply. 
The sight of you was something that couldn’t even be found on the internet. You were so pure and so rare, and all his. 
You were too smart for your own good, yet he could easily get you all dumb for him and his dick. He can easily get you desperate for him. 
“Wait,” he requested, grinding against you when you whined at the word. Your whole body shook as his jeans brushed against your wet and sensitive core, and it was almost enough to have you push him away. “See? You’re not ready to get off again. Not yet.” 
He leaned in to kiss all over your collarbones and shoulders, one hand reaching down to push up your flimsy top. Your breasts spill free from the thin fabric and he moves further down in order to wrap his lips around your nipple. 
“I’ll get you ready,” he promised as he swirled his tongue around the taunt peak, his fingers moving to pinch and pull at your neglected one. “Get you all nice and ready for daddy’s dick.” 
“Mm, fuck,” you whined, raking your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light strands. “Leon…Fuck, I love you.”
He grunted against your nipple, pulling away and leaving a strand of salvia behind.  “I love you so much more, baby. My pretty girl,” he leaned back on his knees, draping your thighs over his as he slowly rocked his hips into yours. You looked so fucked out already, with your tits on full display, your thighs coated in your own release, and your lips swollen and wet. Leon had never seen a prettier sight. 
The front of his jeans quickly began to sport a damp spot from the way he rubbed against your dripping core, and he never wanted to wash them. He could live happily forever while just being covered in your sweet scent. 
You whimpered as you played with your nipples, the slow grind of his hips beginning to work you up again. Your quiet gasps and moans were music to his ears, and Leon was prepared to take tomorrow off just so he can spend the whole day eliciting more sounds from you.
The cool metal of his zipper against your heated clit had your eyes rolling back, your chest lifting up and causing your notes to become wrinkled under you. “Daddy,” you whispered, grinding up against him. He stilled his hips and let you rub against him, his eyes following the lift and drag of your core against his painfully hard dick through his jeans. 
“There you go,” he rasped, gripping your waist and giving you a sharp thrust. You moan loudly, bucking against him desperately. “You sound so sweet, baby. So good for me.” 
“Please,” you whisper. 
He pulls away and watches as your core drips with arousal, sliding down your folds and wetting your anatomy notes without a care in the world. He wanted to lick it up so badly, but refrained from doing so when he felt your gentle tugs on his shirt. 
Leon reached behind him and pulled off the tight fabric from his chest, tossing it aside to join your damp panties. 
You bite your lip and sit up, pulling off your own shirt and throwing it to the side as well. The sound of pages crumpling fills the room as you move to copy his knelt stance, your body much smaller than his and making you have to tilt your head to be able to look up at him. 
Leon reaches down and grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “What do you want, baby?”
You hum, kissing his wrist before moving up to kiss his lips. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair as his tongue explore your strawberry tasting mouth. “I wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you murmur when you pull away. 
Placing open mouthed kisses down his chest, you pause at the waistband of his jeans. You glance up at him as your fingers make work of unzipping them after pulling his belt off. 
“Let me go down on you, daddy,” you offered, pushing down his black boxer briefs and freeing him. “Let me suck you off.”
Leon groaned and tightened his grip on your hair. “You don’t have to ask, princess,” he reminded you. “You know I won’t ever pass up one of your blowjobs.” 
You grinned, gripping him tightly. “I know,” you say before wrapping your lips around him. Starting off with his tip, you run your tongue along his head before slowly taking more of him. You hollow your cheeks and take him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis bone and he is hitting the back of your throat. 
You move so you’re lying flat on your front, your hips pressed to the floor and your juices still dripping onto your homework pages. 
Leon groaned loudly, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you began to suck him off. “God, baby, you’re going to need to ask for a new page for your homework assignment,” he announced. “You’re soaking the one you have now.”
You moan around him, your eyes nearly rolling back when you feel your clit throb at his words. You clench helplessly around nothing at all, your walls pulsating with every sound that leaves his sinful lips. 
“It’s all for you,” you tell him, stroking his wet shaft with your hand as you lean forward to kiss along his abs. His body was insane and you were sure you could spend the rest of your life exploring it and never get bored of the way it felt against your hands. 
He worked out so often, his body had no choice but to tighten up in all the right places. “I know it is, sweet girl,” he mumbled. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to take whenever I want.”
You moan embarrassingly loud at his possessive words, feeling more wetness drip from your folds. “I’m so wet, daddy,” you gasp, licking his tip once more. “I missed you so much.”
“I know, baby,” he cooed, tugging on your lip with the thumb of his freehand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I missed you, too. You need me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”
You hum, pulling off him again and stroking him with both hands. “I need it so badly,” 
Leon hummed in agreement. “Lay back, princess,” he instructed quietly. You oblige right away, sitting up only to lay on your back a few seconds later. 
“Are you going to breed me, daddy? Get me all knocked up?” You tease, knowing how badly he wanted to see you round with his baby. Being with you had unlocked so many kinks, Leon hadn’t even heard of some of them, but he knew he definitely had them. 
Leon cursed under his breath as he pulled his jeans off completely and threw them to the side. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promised, staying in his knelt position and grabbing your thighs. He spread your legs and exposed your awaiting core, all ready and his for the taking. “Show all those college boys how badly you wanted me to knock you up.” 
You moan loudly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him coat his salvia covered dick in your wetness before easily sliding in you. Your head falls back and your chest pushes up, your nipples hard and straining against the cool air in the room. “Fuck,”
“That’s my girl,” he grunted once he was fully buried in you. “So fucking tight.” 
“Daddy,” you whine, watching as he began to slowly fuck into you. “You stretch me so good.”
Leon grunted in reply. “You were made for me, princess,” he says, draping your thighs over his again and rocking his hips into yours. “Mine from the very beginning.”
“Fuck, Leon,” you moan, the slick sound of your walls taking every inch of him filling the room. “I need you, daddy. Please.”
“How do you need it, baby?” He asked, running his hands up and down your thighs. 
“Hard,” you answer, and that was all he needed. He gripped your waist tightly and began fucking into you fast and steady, making your whole body jolt and shake with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.” 
Your head falls back and you lay down again, reaching down to grab onto his wrists. “Like this?” He mocked under his breath, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move he made. 
“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck yes, daddy, just like that.” 
“Good girl,” he praised, adoring how responsive you always are to him. “I’ll fuck you nice and hard, like you deserve.”
You whimper and he reaches one hand up to fondle one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching your already hard nipple. Your whole body shakes a bit as he uses his other thumb to rub harsh circles onto your clit. 
It was probably too much too fast, but he knew you could take it. 
You were his sweet, cock-hungry girl, of course you could take it. 
Squeezing your eyes shut, you lay back and push away various papers, not caring about their well-being at all as you shove them away from you. 
You should have more self control. You should be studying right now and watching your dumb reality TV show, but here you are instead, splayed out and taking him so well like you always did. 
You couldn’t help it. Leon was so effortlessly attractive and he got you going without even trying. 
You missed this physical contact with him for weeks, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get off with him. 
“Feel good, baby?” He asked, drilling into you without showing any signs of stopping. “Feel full?”
“Yes,” you respond not even a second later.  “Feels so good, Leon.”
He grunted, removing his hand from your chest and sliding it upwards until his fingers were gently pressing against the base of your throat. 
At the slight blocking of your airway, your eyes light up and you grin at him. “Yes,” you moan again, wrapping your nimble fingers around his wrist. 
Leon stared down at the sight below him, his lips parting a bit as he groaned loudly. “My dirty girl, huh? Letting me do whatever I want to you. Letting me fuck you raw,” he mutters, more so to himself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to knock you up.”
You moan in response, clenching tightly around him. “Leon,”
“Yeah,” he huffed, tightening his fingers around your throat. “You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you? Get you all nice and pregnant?”
You both knew that he wanted that, and you did, too, but later down the road. Maybe after you graduate college. 
Leon understood that and is more than supportive of it, so he settled on fantasizing about it instead.
It was just so hard to not imagine a future where you and he start a family of your own. He couldn’t wait. 
“I want it, daddy,” you whimper, feeding into his kink. “Wanna make you feel good.”
“You do make me feel good, sweet girl,” he murmured, gripping your hips in both hands as he fucked into you hard. “You make me feel so good, wrapped around me so tightly, taking me like the good girl you are. You’re so good to me, baby.”
Your eyes roll back as you blindly reach for him. Pulling him down on top of you, your legs wrap around his waist when he moves so he’s hovering over you. 
Raking your nails down his back, you hear him inhale sharply next to your ear. “There you go,” he muttered. “Scratch me up, princess. I want it.”
You oblige and dig your nails a little deeper, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave angry red trails indented on his back. “Leon,” you gasp as you clamp down tightly around him. “Please, make me come again. I need it.”
“Come, baby,” he requested. “All over me. I want you to make it so fucking messy.”
He leaned down and gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your shoulder. His tongue soothed the small sting and your body pulsated a bit as you felt your second orgasm rip through you. “Fuck, Leon, fuck fuck,”
Your walls sucked him in impossibly deeper and each thrust of his hips was noisier than the last. The faint squelch was barely heard over your loud cries as you came harder than before, your nails digging into his shoulders. 
“Fuck yeah,” he grunted as he felt your warmth flood around him. “Good girl.”
His words set butterflies loose in your body and you cling onto him with every ounce of energy you have left. “Daddy,” you whispered, your core begging for a break but also begging for him to fill you up. “Come, please…inside me.”
Leon lets out a throaty groan as he fucked into you a few more times before stilling. He comes deep within your soaked walls, painting your core white as he fills you up to the brim. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps, pulling out slightly then slipping back inside you again.
He wanted to make sure his seed reached as deep as it could go in you, even if there was no way you could actually get pregnant right now since you’re on the pill. 
You whine a bit when he pulls out completely, replacing his dick with his fingers as he pushes his come back inside you. “Where it belongs,” he mumbles as he leans down to press a kiss to your abused core. 
You shudder a bit as he moves back up your body and wraps you in his arms. Relaxing against his chest, you let out uneven breaths as you feel his seed run down your folds and seep into your lecture notes. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “I really did miss you so much, Leon.”
He kisses your forehead and tightens his hold on you a bit. “I missed you, too, sweet girl,” he replied, knowing both you and he would probably wake up tomorrow with rug burn marks on your bodies. “I’m sorry for not being here very much. I promise it’ll only be a couple more weeks and then I’ll be given a break.”
“It’s okay,” you smile, giving him another kiss. “You made up for it tonight.”
-
Kind of don’t like this at all, so be gentle and lie to me if you hate it, too x
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Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 1
Here it is, the sequel to All Falls Down
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
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SIX MONTHS AGO
Kiyana closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “I can’t do this anymore Josh. I can’t even go out with some friends without you accusing me of sleeping around.”
“Whatchu’ want me to think Kiyana? Look at how you about to leave this house.” Kiyana rolled her eyes. She had worked so damn hard to get her body back to the way it was before she had her boys. She was going to show it off every chance she got. 
“You never had a problem with how I dressed before!” She responded, raising her voice. 
“That was before you decided that your body no longer belonged to me!” Kiyana narrowed her eyes and stomped towards him. 
“You have no fucking right. You decided to sleep with that bitch first and when i give you a taste of your own medicine you can’t fucking handle it. You been hounding me since I agreed that we can try to make things work. Why are you so damn paranoid Joshua?  I’m here, I’m still here with you after everything you did to me. Get the fuck over what happend with me and Joe and let’s move the fuck on like we agreed.” Josh turned his face up at her before sucking his teeth and stomping up the stairs, slamming the door to their room. 
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PRESENT DAY
Kiyana had never seen Josh look so defeated as he sat at the other end of the table with his lawyer. He had his hand folded together and would not look up from the table. He hadn’t even spoken since he walked into the room, only giving his lawyer a head nod or shake when asked a question. 
It She had tried so damn hard to move forward with her marriage with Josh, but they were always walking on eggshells around each other. It wasn’t like before when they were two people who fell in love in highschool and thought they would be together forever. It was different. For Kiyana, it was like waking up next to a stranger everyday for six months. He was still Josh, he just wasn’t her Josh. He wasn’t the same Josh she fell in love with in highschool. His affair tarnished her image of him and she couldn’t pretend anymore. 
“She can keep it.” She heard Josh talk and she blinked, focussing her attention back to Josh and his lawyer. “She can keep the car and the house, she can keep everything.. All I want is to see my kids when I’m off the road.” Kiyana and her lawyer shared a look before she nodded her head in agreement with what Josh wanted. 
“Ok, what about spousal support?” 
“I don’t need it.” Kiyana said and for the first time in weeks Josh actually looked at her. “I called in a couple of favors and I'll be starting back at my old job on Monday.” 
“Kiyana, take the damn support.” 
“No.” She said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t need it, Joshua. I can support myself. I don’t want anything from you.” 
“Wow.” Josh scoffed, staring Kiyana down. “That’s really how you feel? After twenty-three years -” 
“Fuck them twenty-three years.” She scoffed, with a roll of her eyes. “You had an affair for four months! Them twenty three years mean shit now.” She held out her hand to her lawyer and he placed the pen in her hand. “Where do I sign?” 
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Kiyana let out a sigh as she pulled into the driveway to Trinity and Jon’s house. The last thing she wanted to do was be at a birthday party with her ex-family. She and Josh had only been officially divorced for about 4 hours. 
She already had it in her mind that she was only going to drop the boys off, she was not staying at this party. She forced a smile on her face as she and her boys walked into the backyard of Trinity and Jon’s house. The smile faltered a bit as the backyard went quiet with all of Josh’s family members staring at her. 
Clearing her throat, she held her head up high as she walked over to where Kamari had run over too. 
“Hi.” She said to Josh handing him Kairo who was already trying to jump out her arms to get to his dad. Josh said nothing to her as he took Kairo and Kiyana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She bent down and placed a kiss on Kaiden’s and then Kamari’s forehead. “Daddy will drop you guys off at home ok.” She said to them, cutting her eyes to Josh who nodded his head in agreement. 
“You’re not staying?” Kaiden asked, grabbing her hand with a pout on his face and Kiyana almost folded.. almost. 
“No bubba.” Kiyana said softly. “Don’t you wanna spend time with daddy and your cousins?”  She pointed over to where Kamari had run off to with their cousins, playing in the bouncy house and Kaiden nodded but still didn’t let go of her hand. 
Josh handed Kairo over to his sister and bent down so he was eye level with Kaiden. “It’s okay Kai. You gon see mommy later okay.” Kaiden nodded and gave his mommy a kiss on the cheek before running over to where his cousins were playing. 
“Okay you can go now.” Kiyana let out a sigh then chuckled. She knew it was coming. “Nobody wants you here after what you did to my brother.” Kiyana rose back to her full height and turned around to face Josh’s sister Melvania. She smirked as she took in the look on Mel’s face. Melvania never liked Kiyana over some petty cheerleader bullshit that happened back in high school. 
“Never said I was staying ,Mel.” Kiyana rolled her eyes. She nodded her head at Josh as went to walk out of the backyard. 
“ Good riddance whore.” Kiyana her Melvania whisper and giggle with one of their cousins. Tired of the disrespect, Kiyana turned around to face them. 
“I don’t see how I'm the bad guy in this situation. I had my little fling after your brother had his affair for four months and I still stayed with his ass trying to fix our marriage.” Mel scoffed and shrugged her shoulders. 
“You still cheated on my brother.” Kiyana had to laugh. Because Mel always made excuses for Josh’s and Jon’s behavior. In Mel’s eyes her brothers could do no wrong. 
“After he cheated on me and told the bitch he was planning on divorcing me first!.” Kiyana wanted to smirk at the shocked look on Melvania’s face at the information she just learned. 
“Come on Yana. Let me walk you to your car.” Jon had come over to put out the fire between Kiyana and his sister after seeing his twin stand there and watch the whole thing. 
Kiyana glared at Josh before storming off from the party. “I’m sorry If i ruined the vibe for Jayla’s party. I know alot of your family doesn’t want me around.” Jon only nodded and watched as she got into her car. He felt bad for Kiyana. Most of her second family had turned their back on her because Josh wasn’t telling the whole truth. 
“Listen, you know me and Trin always got your back right.” When Kiyana nodded, Jon continued. “I just don’t think it's a good time to be around right now. Just for the time being.” Kiyana felt her heart drop into her stomach. 
“Wow. You know what..” Kiyana couldn’t even get the words out. Jon had basically just told her to stay away from his family. 
“Kiyana, I’m just saying -” 
“I understand what you’re saying Jonathan.” She said as the tears started coming down her face. “Message received loud and clear.” 
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SOOO... first chapter of the sequel... y'all feeling it or nah?
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
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Dirty Work 5
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: Let's see if I make it through Monday.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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At Corissa’s insistence, and against your own reticence, you have a taste of nearly every course. The fiery red head gabs animatedly in her work, to her assistants and the servers, and even to you. You feel something very peculiar; you feel included.
That pleasant sensation is as fleeting as the night. The servers bring in the dishes, many untouched, and you clean them attentively, keeping the counters clear of clutter. Corissa mutters about the waste and has the leftovers scraped into containers, promising them to her hardworking staff. She even offers you one but you refuse, you’ve indulged enough. You suspect Mr. Laufeyson would be less than pleased to see you walking out with a to-go box.
You are not requested again to tend to the diners. Voices carry from down the hall and the front door opens and shuts between farewells. Amid the hue, you do not hear Mr. Laufeyson though you try not to listen intently.
Corissa and her staff depart with their work done and you’re left to clean up. It’s near midnight. You’re surprised at how long the gathering lasted and yet, you wouldn’t know what to expect. You’d never attended anything like that. You didn’t even go to your own high school graduation.
There’s a scuff and a shadow darken’s the edge of your vision. You lift your head to find Mr. Laufeyson crossing the threshold, his polished shoes clicking on the tile. You dip your head in acknowledgement and return to stacking the dishes neatly inside the cupboards.
“Do not forget the dining room. My guests proved to be animals,” he scoffs, “though, what use would you be if they didn’t leave you some work?”
You nod again. You close the cupboard door and move to the stemmed crystal. You open the glass cabinet that holds the various liquor vessels. You set each in tidy lines, following the pattern.
You wait for him to leave but he remains. Is he watching you or are you just paranoid? You clasp the door shut and face him, though you’re not intent on him. The dining room. You hope you might finish it quickly. You glance at the clock again.
“Do you recall what I told you at the beginning of the night?” He asks brusquely.
You gulp and part your lips, your words trapped in your chest.
“Speak,” he demands with a flippant flick of his fingers.
“Yes, I do, Mr. Laufeyson–”
“Not a look, not a word,” he retorts.
“Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t–”
“The blond man. I saw your eyes stray,” he insists, “the worst thing you can ever do is lie to me.”
“I… I apologise, it wasn’t– I didn’t mean to–”
“Ah, enough,” he dismisses your protests, “this isn’t an argument. I am merely reminding you of the rules. I do hate to repeat myself.”
You seal your lips and put your chin down in deference. You made a mistake. You’re wrong, he’s right.
“Now you know. I expect it not to happen again,” he rebukes.
His sole squeaks on the floor as he spins and struts out. You look around, time to move on to the dining room. You tiptoe out and find the hallway empty. You creep down to the dining room and find it similarly abandoned.
You enter and begin your work. You wipe down the table and tidy little bits of food and forgotten napkins. You push in the chairs and remove a broken stem from one of the vases at the centre line of the table.
The clock ticks and heightens your impatience. You have to hurry if you’re going to catch the bus. If you don’t… you don’t know if you can budget a cab.
“There is another thing,” Mr. Laufeyson gives you a start as he appears through the archway, “something forgotten…”
You look at him with confusion stitched into your forehead. He reaches into his jacket and slips out a pinkish slip of paper. It’s folded into quarters with a curl in one corner. You recognise it immediately.
“I assume you didn’t mean to leave it on the floor,” he sneers as he comes closer, holding it between his index and middle fingers, “I almost tossed it but I did peruse it in case… Well, I don’t mean to pry…”
You take it and nearly thank him aloud. You look at the folded invoice and a cringe pinches your cheeks. You didn’t even realise you’d dropped it. You would prefer to forget about it but that would hardly void the debt.
“You look well,” he muses. You flinch; what does he mean? “I did note it was for the same date you were absent however.”
You tuck the invoice into your pocket and fix another chair. He lurks close as you try not to falter. He puts his hand on the next chair to stop you.
“You may speak. Humour my intrigue. You don’t appear very sick.”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It feels as if he’s making some joke you don’t understand. Your lips strain and you stare at his tie.
“My father had an emergency, Mr. Laufeyson. That is all. He is better now.”
“Ah, a loyal daughter,” he remarks, “it is almost endearing.”
You stand in a stalemate. Your eyes drift over to the clock and back to his slender tie. You’re almost done and you’ll have just enough time to get to the stop.
“I suppose you are eager,” he steps in between you and the clock, “to get home to your sick father.”
You clutch the cloth tight and scrunch your lips. Your stomach does somersaults. You want to beg him to let you finish so you can go home. So you’re not stranded but you already made yourself pathetic enough.
“I am not a man without empathy, I would not keep you long. However, I do wish to have a proper conversation,” he declares.
You nod and wring the cloth. You dare to peek at his face and find his attention on your hands. You still them and drop your eyes again. Is he going to fire you? Rather, tell the agency of your misdeeds?
“I would assume you rely on transit. I am in a rather bright mood after my little soiree so I feel of a mind to offer a favour. One which would allow us to converse,” he rolls the button of his jacket between his thumb and index, “I would drive you home and you would listen, yes?”
You nod and he shows his palm.
“Say it.”
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson. That is very kind.”
“Isn’t it?” He preens and swirls away again, “ten minutes should be sufficient for you to wrap up. I will be at the door.”
“Yes. Mr. Laufeyson.”
“Wonderful,” he strolls out, his unusual glee putting you on guard.
🧹
As promised, Mr. Laufeyson is waiting at the front door. You only realise after checking the back door. You don’t feel good about accepting an unearned favour but the last bus is well and gone.
He opens the door as he sees you enter the foyer. To your surprise, he holds it for you to pass through first. You suppose it's a habit. He is fond of etiquette.
He follows and directs you to a sleek black car in the drive. You wait patiently at the passenger door as he unlocks it and lowers himself into the driver’s seat. It’s only then that you get in, gently closing the door. You put your kit between your feet and click your seat belt into place.
He turns the ignition and the engine hums quietly. It runs so smoothly, you barely feel it. He backs up before steering around the arch of driveway and towards the gate. He reaches to hit a button on the small fob dangling by the rear view and the wider gates split for him to pass through.
You wait for him to begin. He must be basking in your anticipation. Less than eager for what comes next, it's more a needling anxiety. 
“So, let us get down to it,” he begins, one hand on the wheel. The roads are near desolate in the late hour. “I’ve a proposition for you.”
You wait and listen. You assume that’s the deal still. He chuckles and carries on.
“An arrangement convenient for both of us. You see,” he pauses, exhaling as he measures his words, “I am not fond of the agency. I’ve not been for some time, neither have I had the time to search for an alternative. 
“Details are irrelevant. My ex-wife enlisted them for a maid. Just as she employed the gardener and the cook. She might be gone but her handiwork remains, though a very big void as well,” he turns down the next street as you twiddle your fingers, “that is too say, she managed the house and without her, I find myself lacking. I’ve not even the chance to acquire a house manager, but now…”
He lets his suggestion dangle but you’re not quite sure you understand. You hate to presume. Hate to think more of yourself than you should.
“What I’m proposing is that you step into her shoes. In the manner of taking on that management. The gardener, the cook, general maintenance and the like,” he explains, “but of course, you would also keep to your existing tasks, keep the house orderly in all ways.”
You still your hands and stare at your lap. You don’t really believe it. He thinks you capable of all that? Based on what? Some mopping?
“You are rather adept at following orders,” he says, “and you are in need of money, yes?”
You hunch down in shame.
“I will pay more than the agency for I would not take a cut as they do. You will be compensated appropriately for your efforts,” he assures, “as they would lessen mine.”
You look over the dash and at the road ahead. Your father will be home soon, he might need more help, and yet, you most certainly need money. You still have over a month left on probation and even after, you’re not guaranteed full-time hours.
“There would be a starting bonus,” he intones, filling the silence, “fifteen hundred. As an incentive.”
Your eyes burn. That’s what the invoice reads in red. He’s taunting you now. He knows that you need it badly. 
“This offer stands until you leave this car,” he says firmly, “so you may think about it.”
You blanch and keep your eyes forward. You can think all you want but that won’t change anything. There is no other answer. Even if it makes you nervous, even if you find that house stifling, and him terrifying. None of it matters. You need that money as much as your father needs you.
“I accept, Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur. “I will do my best.”
He hums, a triumphant note, “I expect nothing less.”
🧹
You’re greeted by an empty house. It was too late to even think of going to the hospital. You wouldn’t want to wake your father during his recovery, and besides, his dejection sticks in your head. He told you not to come back.
You go to bed but don’t sleep very much. It’s hard in the lonely house. You want to tell your father that you got a new job. That you’re going to be able to pay for his hospital bills and that you’ll make things better. You will, when he gets home.
What has you just as wakeless is Mr. Laufeyson. He said you could start tomorrow. You’re nervous about that. Your only experience is the last month and a half of cleaning. He might expect more than you can do. Worse, you might not be able to meet those expectations.
You toss and turn, sleeping a few hours just before your alarm. You have your tea and get dressed. You bring your kit, just in case, and head out to catch the bus. You don’t like being in the house alone so you’re all too happy to get out.
You walk the block and a half from the bus stop. You realise as you come to the iron gate that you don’t have the new code. You stand cluelessly, locked out and listless. You notice the small button by the metal speakerbox. Does it work?
You tap the bell and wait. Nothing. You even lean in to listen to the speaker. It’s entirely dead. You try again. Still, nothing.
You lean in and peer through the bars, like a prisoner. The front door opens and Mr. Laufeyson appears, a harried pace with a hint of agitation. He comes to the other side and looks out at you. His eyes scan you from head to toe. He opens the gate from within.
“In, in,” he demands curtly, “are you not supposed to make my life easier?”
You step in and he swings the door shut harshly. He huffs and swiftly outpaces you back towards the door. You hesitate. You never go in that way.
“Do not waste my time,” he orders without looking back.
You jog to catch up with him. You hop up the steps behind his lithe gait and trail him inside. He stops and points to the mat. You leave your shoes on it even as he keeps his own on.
“I’ve a list made up. That is sufficient, yes?”
You nod and he sighs. He’s already moving as you slipping in an effort to keep up.
“Speak,” he drawls.
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”
“Very good,” he praises, a lilt of condescension dripping from his lips. “I trust you sent your resignation in. I would be happy to cut ties from that cursed agency at the soonest opportunity.”
You bite your lip. You didn’t even think of that. Your silence is telling.
“Add it to the list,” he says derisively.
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heytherejulietx · 1 year
Note
Eddie comforting soft!reader who is crying?
a/n - aaaa i’m so happy to be writing again! my requests are back open! mostly for fluffy or hurt/comfort drabbles for steve or eddie at the moment, so please send some in!
tw - hurt/comfort, themes of depression though no direct mention, unedited
1.2k words
just a reminder that reblogs are seriously appreciated as it helps my work get seen by more people! <3
@eddie-darling @bradleybeachbabe @m1vfs @katsukis1wife @pastel-abyss-x @levylovegood @simplymurdock @mayyvh @parasadic-blog @pr3ttycunt @aurumbelis join my tag list
Fingers were gentle against her cheek as her face was tilted up, though she didn’t open her eyes. A thumb brushed against her skin to wipe away a few tears, and the action alone made her breath shake on the next inhale. She could feel her cheeks burning. She felt so silly.
“Baby,” Eddie was murmuring in that soft tone of voice that either meant he was melting with fondness, or was worried. “Hey, talk to me, what’s wrong?” A second hand was placed against her other cheek, and with shaking fingers she lifted her free hand to wrap around his wrist, holding onto him as her breath shuddered. His skin was warm underneath her touch, and if she focused enough she could feel the way his heartbeat sped erratically in his veins.
Every Friday she went over to his trailer to sleep over for the weekend. And just like every Friday it had been playing out the same as always. Smiles and kisses as soon as she had stepped through the doorway, swapping her shirt in place for one of Eddie’s (something that was always encouraged by him), curling up on the sofa together. And nothing bad had happened, there was no reason for anything to change. But he had left the comfort of the sofa to make them both a drink, and in the time it took for him to do that, she had curled in on herself with short breaths as tears trickled down her cheeks. Her chest had been tight ever since Monday, but there was no reason for her to be sad. It was silly. Even more silly now that Eddie had to comfort her when she didn’t know what was wrong.
Her expression crumpled as he wiped more tears away, and she took another shaking breath in as her eyes flickered open. Only enough to see the way his eyebrows were scrunched in worry, brown eyes filled with sadness. “Sorry,” she whispered, unable to make her voice any louder. “I’m… I’m okay.”
Eddie hummed a quiet acknowledgment as her eyes shut again, too embarrassed to look at him. He was silent for a moment as he brushed tears away with the calloused pads of his thumbs, before she felt his lips pressed to her forehead. And then her left cheek. And then her right cheek.
Her expression crumpled again and she gasped in a small pathetic breath.
“Can I hold you?”
She nodded, and swallowed through the thickness in her throat as his hand moved from her cheek and slid over her skin to the back of her neck. He cupped her head delicately and brought it to rest in the juncture of his neck as his other arm secured around her body, palm flat against her back. Eddie was crouched on the floor in front of the couch so she had to lean forwards a considerable amount to hug him, but her arms wound around him tightly, locked underneath his arms as her hands curled into fists around the material of his shirt. She could tell by the way he held her alone that he was worried. His arms were gentler than normal, but perhaps even more protective. Usually he held her so tightly that it almost became difficult to breathe — arms that tightened around her with such force that he had no difficulty in lifting her off of the floor. But the way he held her then, as she cried miserably into his shoulder, it was like he was trying to protect her — a hand against the back of her head and another arm to melt her against him, completely tucked away in the safety of his arms. And she felt so embarrassed that she was so tearful and upset when they had been having a good time, but secured in his arms she at least felt a little lighter.
“I’m- I’m sorry.” For ruining the evening, she wanted to tack on.
Eddie shushed her gently, lips soft against her temple where he dropped a kiss. “Don’t apologise. Just give yourself a minute, angel. It’s okay. I’m here.”
She just nodded and pressed herself even further into him, his neck warm against her forehead. A deep shuddered breath was inhaled as she gripped onto his shirt even tighter, and he was being so nice that she couldn’t help the quiet sob that bubbled up out of her mouth. Immediately she felt the way his arms tightened around her, and she only cried for a minute or so, but by the time she’d calmed down and her breathing had evened out Eddie was holding her as tight as usual.
She kissed the exposed part of his collarbone, straightened up a little, before sitting back on the edge of the sofa to look at him. His hands flattened against her forearms and rubbed up her skin, raising goosebumps in their path. And he was ever so patient, brown eyes soft as they gazed upon her. His softness almost made her want to cry again.
“I’m… I’m okay,” he frowned, eyes crinkling slightly under his scrunched eyebrows, and she butted in before he could protest. “Really, Eddie, I’m okay. Nothings wrong.”
Eddie continued to rub her arms with his palms, the frown on his lips never ceasing. “You can tell me anything, you know,” he lifted her hand with delicate fingers and pressed his lips against her palm. “Anything.”
She nodded, and gently gripped his fingers with her own. “I don’t…” she huffed, frowning when she couldn’t figure out how to say it.
“Take your time,” he murmured the words against her palm where he left another kiss. “It’s okay.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment as she thought about her wording. “Nothings wrong, I’m… I don’t know why I’m not happy. I’ve been feeling this way all week.”
“Feeling what way, baby?”
“Just… sad.”
That was enough for him to sit forwards and pull her into a hug again, arms wound tightly around her. He hugged her with such force that he pulled her off of the sofa and completely into his arms, which was enough to make her smile against his neck. He must have felt it, because his hand came around to cup her jaw with warm fingers, tilting her head back enough to look at him.
“You promise nothing happened, sweet thing?”
The nickname made her smile and she knew that was his plan all along when he smiled slightly in return. “Promise, Eds. I just feel a little miserable this week.”
He nodded, and leaned in to kiss her delicately as his thumb brushed against her jaw. “Alright, baby,” he murmured into her mouth, pressing another few soft kisses to her lips before he leaned back to look at her with such a soft expression that she almost melted into his arms again. “What do you wanna do? You wanna nap? Take a shower?”
She just shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Eddie nodded, his free hand cupping the back of her neck as he leaned in to kiss her again. “Guess I’m just gonna have to kiss my girl until she feels better, huh?”
Despite how she felt, the thought made her a little giddy, and she couldn’t hide her smile as his lips pressed to her jaw. “Guess so.”
2K notes · View notes
skz317cb97 · 1 year
Text
The Beat
Jisung x Female reader
Word count: 2.5k (no look they're really drabbles okay?)
Synopsis: Jisung is having difficulties with a project and asks you to help take his mind off work for a bit.
A/N: 18+ ONLY! Okay seriously I'm on a roll right now but like I said they might not all come out so quickly so do bare with me if some of the others take longer. I am having so much fun writing these so I hope you all are enjoying them! Chan will be next! If you enjoy reading please reblog, comment, shoot me an ask, like, I love to hear from you guys! As always warnings and smut below the cut! 3/8
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Warnings: 18+ ONLY! MDNI! Swearing/strong language, eluding to casual sex, oral (m receiving), deep throating, face fucking, cum eating, breath play (kinda not really), masturbating, cum shot, slight exhibitionism (kinda maybe, not really), slight MC dom/Jisung sub dynamic (kinda). I think that's all but if I ever miss something please let me know and I'll add it immediately!
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It was the last morning before the guys were due back and you were on your knees under the kitchen table after you decided you’d rather blow Changbin than eat eggs and toast. You were sucking his soul out through his dick, choking and drooling all over his thick cock rubbing his balls and humming as you gagged on it again and again. Suddenly the front door opened and someone came walking into the apartment. Changbin had heard but apparently you didn’t because you were slurping and gagging on his fat cock when Jisung came around the corner into the dining room. 
“Hey Changbinnie hyung!” Changbin’s eyes went wide with surprise. 
“JISUNG! You’re home early!” You choked when Changbin shouted Jisung’s name and stopped sucking his dick for a second. But Jisung couldn’t see you or what was happening under that table and so you took Changbin’s cock back into your mouth and what you couldn’t fit you jerked off hard as you continued to fondle his balls covered in your saliva. You honestly didn’t know how he was holding it together, must be that strong jutdae of his. 
“Yea I wanted to come home a little early and get some rest before having to jump back into the grind.” Changbin bit his bottom lip and nodded, small beads of sweat were starting to form on his temples and forehead and he prayed Jisung didn’t notice. 
“Good idea Ji! Why don’t you go get you some rest!” Jisung looked at Changbin funny. 
“Yea, okay Bin I’ll do that.” Jisung shook his head and went to his room. As soon as Changbin heard his bedroom door click closed he groaned out and came in your mouth. You swallowed and kept slurping on him until he was sensitive and pulled away. 
“Remember this little moment the next time, pay back is a bitch.” Changbin laughed breathless, pulling you up from under the table. 
“For now though we should probably get you home.” Changbin kissed you deeply. 
“Go get dressed I’ll give you a ride.” He patted your rear end and you ran off to get your clothes on.  
A month or so went by and everything was still just the way it always was. You and the guys had your board game nights every other Monday and had been to the club to go dancing and drinking. You had fucked two of them and at least one of them knew and they both acted like nothing happened. Aside from a lingering touch here and there when passing you or sitting by you everything was perfectly normal. It was a nice day and you were walking to the park down the street from your place when you got a call from Jisung. 
“Hey Ji!” You heard him sigh heavily. 
“Hey y/n.” He sounded drained. 
“What’s wrong Sungie?” He took another deep breath. 
“I’ve been at the studio all night and I’m just so stressed over this song that I’m having trouble with. Do you...you think maybe you could come to the studio and help me?” You were confused as to why Jisung was asking you to do this when Chan or Changbin would be far better options since they actually knew how to produce music. 
“Ji I don’t know anything about music.”  
“I know I just mean come and hang out, maybe distract me for a bit, clear my head.” Well that made more sense, he needed to unplug for a minute. You were only going to go on a hike at the park because you were bored anyway. 
“Sure Sungie I’ll come hang out for a bit.” You could already hear his voice getting lighter. 
“You’re the best y/n. See you soon!” When you got to the studio the door was slightly cracked open. You knocked lightly and walked in. When you did you saw Jisung with his head laid on his desk; it looked as if he’d fallen asleep while waiting on you. You were just going to back out and let him rest but you bumped something by the door and Jisung’s head sprung up. 
“Oh hey! You made it great!” He rubbed his eyes. 
“If you want to nap a little longer, I can come back later.” He shook his head and stood up walking over to welcome you in. 
“No no I was only resting my eyes. Please come in.” He closed and locked the studio door behind you and ushered you towards the sofa in the studio. You sat down getting comfy and Jisung sat in the roll-y chair across from you. You both exchanged some small talk and caught up with what the other had been doing recently. Everyone had been so busy lately it felt like it had been forever since you’d see any of the guys when reality it had only been two weeks. The longer you sat there chatting with Jisung the more antsy he seemed to get, knee bouncing, eyes darting, if he chewed on his lip anymore he’d bite it off so finally you said something. 
“Sungie you’re supposed to be relaxing and clearing your mind a bit. You look like you're ready to crawl out of your skin. What’s going on?” His teeth let go of his lip and he let out a heavy sigh. 
“I... I really want to ask you something but I don’t want you to get upset with me or take it the wrong way.” His face was so soft and his big brown eyes seemed to have grown even bigger. You could tell he was genuinely scared you would be angry with him. You sat up and leaned forward a bit closing some of the distance between you and Jisung. 
“Well... I promise to listen and try to understand if that helps at all.” Jisung nodded and shook his head. 
“Okay... whewww... okay...” You braced yourself unsure of exactly what was going to come out of Jisung’s mouth. Jisung closed his eyes tightly. 
“WouldyoudowhatyoudidforChangbinniehyungformetoo?!” It all came out in a shouted jumble of words. You jumped at the volume of his voice and caught fragments of words but not enough to understand him. You shook your head. 
“Take a deep breath Sungie and slow down okay?” He took a couple more deep breaths and then closed his eyes again, softly this time. 
“Would you do what you did for Changbin hyung for me too?” Your brow furrowed in confusion and then the memory of you blowing Changbin under the table when Jisung came home flashed through your mind. You tried to play stupid. 
“Uh what do you mean? What did I do for Changbin?” Jisung’s face was buried in both of his hands embarrassed to say. 
“Well... you... know... you... uh... sucked his... d-” 
“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!” Jisung jumped and looked terrified that he had in fact upset you. You were just caught off guard finding out he knew; you coughed and lowered your voice. 
“How do you know that?” Jisung wrung his hands together. 
“Changbinnie hyung said you were going to be over for the weekend. When I came home I saw your shoes by the door and then... well I saw your feet poking out from under the table a bit, that and Changbin hyung looked like he was about to explode.” Your face felt hot. You were so embarrassed to find out that Jisung knew the whole time that you had been under the table. Then it registered and you remembered Jisung’s actual question. 
“Wait did you ask me...” Jisung waved you off in a panic. 
“Never mind about that, sorry! I shouldn’t have suggested it! You’re my friend and I respect you and I shouldn’t have...” You couldn’t help but be endeared by his babbling. 
“Sungie do you want me to suck you off or not?” His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. 
“Words Jisungie. Do you want me to suck your cock?” He gulped hard shaking his head up and down. 
“Yes!” You tsked him. 
“Yes what Ji?”  
“YES PLEASE!” You hummed pleased and smiled at him. 
“Good boy.” You got on your knees in front of him and ran your hands up his firm thighs towards the waist band of his pants. He looked down at you with his wide hopeful eyes. You could see his pants already starting to tent from his growing erection. You slowly unbuttoned his pants, dragging the zipper down one tooth at a time, a little whine came out of the back of Jisung’s throat and you looked up at him. 
“Aww poor Sungie, you need it bad don’t you baby?” Jisung licked his lips and nodded. 
“Please?” You smiled at him sweetly 
“You asked so nicely how could I say no?” You grabbed the waist band of Jisung’s pants and underwear and pulled both down to his ankles. His cock was hard and leaking, smooth and pretty and while not as big as Changbin’s he was not lacking. 
“Such a pretty cock Jisungie.” You praised him. 
“Really?” He sounded surprised by your compliment. 
“Oh yes Ji, pretty cock for a pretty boy.” His cheeks started turning red and you thought it was so cute. You had always thought Jisung was cute, his chubby cheeks and toothy smile. You licked your hand and wrapped your fingers around his cock. You started to stroke him slowly, your thumb rubbing the tip of his cock before twisting your wrist and sliding down his shaft again. 
“Ffuck!” Jisung’s cock started leaking even more precum. 
“You’re not going to cum already are you Sungie?” You leaned forward and licked the precum off the head of his dick and he twitched in your hand hard. 
“N-nno I w-won’t please suck on it please!” The way he begged for your mouth made your body buzz with excitement and you could feel your arousal wetting your panties. You nodded and started gently sucking on the head of Jisung’s cock, slowly going further down his shaft, coating him in your saliva. Jisung gathered all your hair into a ponytail and looked down at you with your mouth full of his dick. When he hit the back of your throat and you gagged you pulled off and started jerking him off, looking up at him, your hair still held back by his hand. 
“You’re such a gentleman Jisungie, holding my hair back for me while a choke on your cock.” You hummed and took him back into your mouth bobbing your head up and down sucking, drooling, and swirling your tongue around him. 
“It’s s-so good y/n feels... Oh FUCK!” Jisung was glad the studio was soundproof because he moaned out uncontrollably when you gagged on his dick again and continued to suck him off. The grip he had on your hair tightened a bit as you repeatedly took his cock to the back of your throat, squelching, spitting, and gagging on it with pleasure before pulling off and stroking him again, harder than before. 
“You’re being so good for me Sungie. Stand up.” He did as you said although on shaky legs since you were still firmly jerking him off. He looked down at you and thought he’d died and gone to heaven. You were kneeling in front of him, blushing, your chin covered in spit and precum giving him those sparkling doe eyes. 
“Okay Jisungie, fuck my face.”  
“Excuse me what...” You giggled a little, seeing you all messy and sweet then hearing that come from your mouth short circuited something in Jisung’s brain for a moment. You repeated. 
“I said choke me with your pretty cock, make me deep throat you, hold me down on your dick until I’m gasping for air, face fuck me Ji, be good and I'll let you cum wherever you want. 
Jisung twitched uncontrollably in your hand and he got a little sparkle in his eye. 
“A-anywhere?” He asked unbelieving and you nodded, kissing the tip of his dick softly again and again. 
“That’s right baby. Now, fuck. My. Face.” You took Jisung’s cock into your mouth again and started a good rhythm then Jisung started to gently thrust into your mouth testing the waters. When you hummed in pleasure he went a little harder. Your hands came up and grabbed his ass pushing him deeper into your throat still. Jisung got the hint and started fucking your throat harder and faster. The sound of your spit and gagging, you moaning around his cock, it all made Jisung feel so lightheaded. Jisung’s grip shifted and one of his hands cradled the back of your head as the other supported your jaw. Once he had his hold adjusted he really started jamming his dick into your throat. He pulled you off and tilted your head up to look at you. You were panting, a little sweaty, covered in spit and blushing. He shoved you back onto his cock, pinched your nose closed and pushed the back of your head down until your nose was buried into the soft spot above his cock. He made several shallow thrusts, drool dripped down his cock and balls as your throat constricted over and over again around the tip of his dick while you were struggled to breathe. Jisung looked down and realized you had one of your hands down your own pants riding and fucking yourself on your fingers as Jisung choked you with his cock. He pulled you off again and spit trailed from your fucked out face to the tip of his swollen red cock. You smirked up at him. 
“Where do you want to cum Jisungie? Hmm?” You started stroking him with your free hand, your other still teasing and rubbing your clit. He bit his lip and whispered embarrassed. 
“uhon your f...” You spit on his cock and started stroking him faster and harder. 
“Sorry Sungie I can’t hear you baby. Where do you want to come?” You sucked on the tip of his dick as you continued to stroke him fast and hard, your warm wet tongue teasing. You stopped playing with your pussy and started gently playing with his balls. 
“ON YOUR FACE! GOD PLEASE LET ME CUM ALL OVER YOUR PRETTY FUCKING FACE!” You spit on Jisung’s cock again and stroked him as fast as you could, two fingers from the hand playing with his balls followed a wet trail down until you were softly fingering his perineum. You aimed his dick at your face. 
“Do it Ji paint my face with your cum baby.” The strangled moan that came from Jisung as he came almost made you climax untouched. A thick stripe of cum shot across your lips and nose, another across your cheek and one eye, another across your nose and forehead, more across your other eye, it pooled in your puckered lips as more stripes of his cum shot across your face. Your hand had crept back down into your pants again and you rubbed your throbbing wet cunt as you started to lick at the cum dripping down your face. Jisung helped wipe you off and once your face was clean again you stood and slumped back on the couch your legs spread wide.  
“Look Sungie, you made such a mess.” Your hands trailed into your pants again and you played with your pussy. Jisung crawled on the floor on all fours and his face hovered over your warm cunt while you continued to tease and finger yourself. 
@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @hyunelixies @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy
“Come now Jisungie, clean up the mess you made baby.”  
Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!
708 notes · View notes
lemonlaur · 5 months
Text
GAMBLING ADDICTION
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 fushiguro toji x fem! reader 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 synopsis: a new regular at your work who always bets on losing dogs; at least most of the time. . . 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 word count: 3.2k 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 cw — sort of slow burn, rough sex, oral sex, cunnilingus, blowjob, smut, doggy style, breast groping, hair pulling, biting, hickies mdni ♡ ࣪₊♡𓂃 note — my first time writing smut in a while and my first tumblr post! if you enjoy it, please comment or reblog, it would make me so happy (and maybe do more teehee)
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“Takoyaki,” the broad-shouldered man ordered, not even bothering to look at you. He was engrossed with the race on television, just like every other person here. 
You were beginning to reconsider working next to the sportsbetting eatery outside of Tokyo. There was never an issue with people paying for their food, which one might expect from petty gamblers, but most just lacked manners.
“That’ll be 500 yen,” you chimed, catching a glimpse at his betting card as he gave you the banknotes from the same hand. Number four – 10,000 yen. 
The race concluded while he waited for his food, and it wasn’t hard to see that number four was not in the first. Or second, for that matter. The man let out an annoyed sigh before crumbling the slip and shoving it into his baggy gray pants.
Then, he finally looked at you. Maybe it was because you had the octopus balls. 
“Here’s your order, sir,” you felt a little nervous under his intense gaze, not expecting the sudden eye contact. “Chopsticks are on the tables, and green tea is by the door.”
“When’s the next race?”
“Oh, um,” you weren’t the bookie, but this was a common question. “Usually there’s only one boat race a day during this season. But, there’s horse racing in about an hour, though.”
He looked at you, then the food, and finally offered a half smirk in your direction. His mouth turned up on one end, opposite of what looked like an old scar. Your cheeks heated up and averted your eyes to help the next customer, obviously. He then took a seat between the cash register and the television screen. 
You watched as the same scene repeated itself, and he lost. 
This wasn’t uncommon, but usually after two losses, especially with the money he was betting, the patrons just left. 
“Hey,” someone said.
You were thinking to yourself while wiping down one of the tables, and jumped at the same deep voice from earlier.
 “You work here everyday?” The voice belonged to the man from before, and without a counter and register between you both, you could really feel the size difference. Before you could answer, he continued, “If you’re here everyday, maybe you have a better idea of what normally wins.”
You hadn’t anticipated a question about betting, but you liked to think you knew a thing or two. 
“I can’t predict the future or anything, but tomorrow, I bet Hoshimi – the horse in the district next to us – is going to win. He hasn’t won the last two, coming in second both times, but I think that’s why the jockey will secure it this time. He’ll have more drive.” Tomorrow would be a slow day, as all Mondays tended to be, and therefore you knew the most about those leagues. 
“What do I do if I have no more money to bet with?” He replied.
“Um,” you blankly stared at the man who must’ve thrown away at least 20,000 yen today. “You leave?” 
“No, no.” He chuckled breathily. Leaning against the table you’d just been wiping down, he asked, “What if, instead of betting money I don’t have, you and I make a bet? On your horse –” he looked at your nametag “[Name].”
You blinked a couple of times, rather surprised. The way he said your name made it sound a little better, but maybe that’s because you were tired. He also looked a lot better than most of the customers. “Make a bet? I’m just an employee, so maybe you’d better find someone else.”
“I think it would be some honest, good fun, and nobody’s wallet suffers,” the unnamed man explained. “If you’re here all the time, it might bring some excitement to the monotony,” he waved his hands in the general direction of some typical drunk patrons. 
He did have a compelling way with words, and it’s not like you’d lose any money. Plus, if he showed up again, that was enough of a win – he was sober, must’ve had some sort of income, and was rather handsome. You’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for being a little rude earlier, he did have a lot of money on that race. 
“If there’s no money, I am all game,” you agreed. 
* * *
Every Monday, Toji, who finally gave you his name, came in to bet on the horses. He would go to the bookkeeper beforehand to get his card before coming over to you. He would order his takoyaki, ask your horse (always the same), and sit between the register and television, watching. 
The first few times, you just would discuss your picks, and whoever won simply had the satisfaction. However, the two of you grew more and more competitive, as if addicted to the idea of one upping the other. 
“[Name], I am a betting man,” Toji had come in unexpectedly on a Wednesday, with a betting card in his hands. “I know for sure that number six is going to demolish the others in this race today, and I’ll make 100,000 yen.”
“If you say so,” you teased. You’d only ever seen him win petty matches when betting on baseball teams so far.
“I bet you, my guy is going to win,” he slammed his muscular palm onto the counter you worked at. “Real stakes this time.”
“Oh, like money? I get paid to watch you,” you dusted off your work apron, stretching your arms out. 
“No, no money, something more valuable,” he explained. “Your time. My guy wins, you owe me a date. I can even pay for your time off work, considering my wallet after the win.”
You felt your cheeks grow hot and you looked at his smug expression, both ends of his scarred mouth twitching up. “Oh, and what do I get if mine wins?” You decided to ignore his stake for a moment, not willing to let him see you caught off-guard. 
It’d been about a month since you’d met him, and he’d become so much of a friend you forgot how attractive you’d initially thought he was. It was not hard to come back to, that’s for sure. It wouldn’t be a loss, per say, but your competitive spirit might be a little bruised. 
“Whatever you want,” he explained, “but not money.” He held out his hand as if you’d already agreed upon the bet verbally. “Also, the race starts in five minutes, so I’d pick your. . . whatever the sport is.”
Feeling a little less worried, because Toji hadn’t even bothered to look at what he was placing bets on, you shook his hand. 
The parlor barely had anyone in it because it was a midday boat race, so you decided to join him at his usual spot to choose your boat. You decided to go with number four because you needed to think fast, and his odds would likely be no better than yours.
Toji was looking at you more than he was looking at the race, as if he’d already won. But you ignored it, clutching your first as though there was an imaginary betting card. If he lost, maybe you would have him do something goofy or tell him to quit betting and just eat here. 
The boats were pretty neck and neck, with four, five, and six barely a needle ahead of one another. 
The bell rang as a customer opened the door, and you jumped to go back to the register. You tried to simultaneously pay attention to the race onscreen as a tired businessman ordered a bowl of ramen; but had to focus on giving the man his change.
By the time you’d shut the register, you were met with the final lap – number six in the lead. “Damn,” you muttered, leaning your body across the counter to get a closer look, as if the kanji for four and six couldn’t be more different. 
You saw Toji’s smirk go throughout his entire body as he looked from the television to the register, beaming. “I told you, my guy was going to win.”
“You got lucky this once,” you said, knowing his track record. While you felt a bit like a sore loser for a moment, you felt the hairs on your neck stand up as you realized what this meant. A date with Toji. 
* * *
You had taken off work today for whatever Toji had planned, and picked the perfect date outfit for the crisp weather. About fifteen minutes after the time he’d said he would come get you, he was here, wearing the same tight shirt but with a jacket slung on top, and much tighter pants than normal. 
“You look nice,” you said, feeling a little awkward, seeing him outside of your work. 
“I’m surprised that you can look cuter than when in uniform,” he said, putting a warm, muscular hand on the small of your back. He led you out of your apartment, and you began to feel more comfortable with this idea.
He’d picked out a nice, but not terribly fancy, sushi restaurant on the outskirts of Tokyo. You’d agreed to share some rolls to have some variety, and everytime you leaned over to get a piece on his side, you could feel his eyes roaming you. Not that you were much better; when he would use his chopsticks and lean in, you had an unintentional habit of staring at the shiny scar on his lips. 
“I bet,” he swallowed a bite of yellowtail, “that you think I’m attractive.”
“You’re a betting man, I’m not surprised you’d think so,” you kept your eyes on the sushi, but nervously swayed your feet under the table. In a swift motion, you felt Toji’s leg against yours. 
In what felt like a game of chicken, after who knows how many betting games, you nudged his leg.The table wasn’t exactly the biggest, but it was clearly on purpose. Under the table, he brushed his fingertips across your leg, sending shivers down your spine.
The two of you continued to talk idly about your day, things that either one of you had planned, as his muscular hand trailed up your leg. His calloused hands, from who knows what kind of work, grazed the edge of your skirt, and you inhaled sharply – stopping talking.
While he wasn’t not smiling before, that familiar smirk popped up again. 
“How is your food?” He asked, the smirk even changing his tone of voice. 
“Amazing,” you took your chopsticks and popped another roll into your mouth. “You should try some of this nigiri,” wanting to get back at him, you picked up the piece as if to feed him. 
He made no effort to even play along, quickly biting it off with the same smug expression. “Delicious,” and his fingers returned to your hem, unmoving. “Don’t you think it’s good?” Toji stared at you intently, and you made the connection. 
You nodded, and felt his hand gently brush your inner thigh before he pulled away. Whatever breath you’d accidentally been holding in was let go as the waiter dropped the check off, and you were brought back to reality. Damn waiter, you thought. 
Toji calmly paid the bill, before escorting you out of the restaurant, an unwavering look on his handsome face. You felt shy all of a sudden, the boldness in you lost, as you both walked back to your apartment.
“I have to tell you something,” Toji said as you rounded the block to your house. He crossed his arms in front of him before putting one behind his head, “I may have done heavy research on the race so that I would win.”
You were surprised it had taken him so long to start doing research considering his win-lose ratio is rather low. How many thousands of yen down the drain? Then, you realized what else that meant. 
“You could’ve just asked me on a date,” you mumbled, looking at your feet. You felt a little bit surprised because he only did it knowing it would work in his favor. 
Toji brought up your chin with his hand which you should be more than familiar with by now. “I liked my odds more this way. And I got the money to take you out at the same time, obviously.”
Toji made sure to walk you to the door to your apartment. The tension from the restaurant remained. 
“I hope you have a good rest of your night,” Toji hadn’t even let you unlock the door to your apartment when he turned to leave.
“I bet you didn’t think I’d let you in,” you grabbed the back of his jacket as he turned, the other hand turning the key in the door. “This might be the last time you see me outside of a uniform for a while,” you joked. 
“You know what happens if you let me in, right?” Toji hadn’t even turned around. His voice was kind of low, and he spoke carefully to make sure you’d understand him.
“I think I am willing to take my chances.” You were barely able to get the door open before he was inside your apartment, locking the door behind him. 
Your heart pounded in your chest as Toji smirked at you, putting you between his chest and the wall. He leaned in, and you went in too, only to be disappointed by a small peck on the lips. “If you want more, well, the ball is in your court.” 
Already having been frustrated earlier by the teasing, you went in to kiss him deeply, swirling your tongue into his mouth. He laughed into the kiss before quickly asserting his dominance, and reaching his calloused palms under your shirt. 
You shivered at how cold his hands had been from being outside, but continued moaning into the kiss as he unclasped your bra, pinching your already hardened nipples. He pulled away from the kiss, a line of saliva connecting your mouths, letting his fingers graze your nipples for a moment, before smirking and wiping the spit away with his hand. 
“What do you want now?” He asked, pretending as though you were in charge tonight. He winked at you before peeling off his top layers to reveal an even more muscular body than you’d expected. Toji’s bulge was easy to tell because the pants he’d worn were already rather tight, and you’d already felt it pressed against you during the deep kiss. 
“My bedroom, it’s just around the corner,” you explained, a little breathless.
“Lead the way,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Even those looked bigger now that he wasn’t covered by his compression shirt.
You walked down the hall, leading the way, feeling a dampness between your legs. You stopped in the doorway for Toji to catch up, only to be met with an immediate warmth pressed against your back the second you stopped.
“Miss me?” Toji whispered in your ear from behind, wrapping his strong arms around you with his lips tickling your ear. He didn’t need further direction and began quickly using his arms to finish getting your top off from behind.
You turned to face him, both of you topless with far too many clothes on, and reached for his zipper. Toji leaned against the doorframe, smirking as you hastily tried to unzip his pants to reveal his bulge.
“Good girl,” he breathed out as you barely undid his zipper and yanked his boxers down to reveal his cock. In only a few seconds you were on your knees with Toji fucking your face with no hesitation. Your makeup ran down your cheeks as his cock slammed into your throat, the flavor of precum on your tongue. “So obedient,” he groaned out.
This was the other side to the smug gambler you were familiar with, and while it was just as filthy, it was so hot. Your gag reflex didn’t matter to Toji as he brutally rammed into your mouth, your lips red and puckered around his shaft, licking up every bit of seed when he finished.
When your mouth was free, he picked you up as though you weighed nothing, tossing you onto the bed. He was completely naked, and every part of his body looked pristinely built as though he were one of Michaelangelo’s works. “For someone who I maybe tricked into my bet, you seem pretty eager,” he said, getting on top of you. 
“I should get a win by default then,” you sat up under him, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him with your swollen lips.
“I suppose that’s a fair request,” he commented between the making out, hooking a finger on the waistband of your skirt. “You get whatever you want, and I can tell what you want,” Toji’s hand reached under the skirt, grazing the wet spot on your panties. 
In a swift motion, he’d taken off your skirt and panties with his teeth. You felt your face burn, surprised at the cocky man’s behavior as he buried his head between your thighs. Toji’s hands gripped the outside of your thighs as he kissed the insides, making you squirm under his grasp. You gasped as he suddenly began to bite the inside of your thigh, moaning out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. 
“Oh, Toji,” you ran your fingers into his hair, grinding against him. He moved from leaving a hickey on you to eating you out, his tongue swirling around your clit. “Please, fuck me,” you begged as he edged you, licking and teasing your swollen pussy.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Toji flipped you over and pulled your feet to the edge of the bed where he quickly took you from behind, standing, with his strong hands using your hips as handles. You were so wet he slid in no problem, and you gasped at the sudden sensation in your stomach. 
He grabbed your hair, arching your back, and began to thrust in and out of you. His cock throbbed inside of you, and you moaned so loud you worried the neighbors may complain. You were building up to climax steadily from the penetration, but then, he began to rub your clit with his large, warm finger. You felt a warmth growing in you and you moaned his name, wearing it out.
“Good girl,” he said from behind, his thrusts becoming less consistent and more rapid. “I bet you’ll cum before me,” he teased, even though your legs were already shaking with the anticipation of an orgasm. Toji rhythmically rubbed your clit as he fucked you rapidly, and you noticed a puddle of drool on the sheets from your face.
“I’m going to cum,” you moaned, and he yanked your hair like it was a set of reins. As you were reaching your climax, he bit your shoulder, and you gasped as both pain and pleasure filled you. You moaned, almost screaming as your body shook with the intensity of the orgasm, but Toji sped up — you wouldn’t be surprised if his strong hands had bruised your hips in doing so.
“Fuck,” Toji growled from behind you, dropping your hair so that your face fell into the plush sheets. You were thankful now that he was keeping your head up. He suddenly pulled out and you felt unbelievably empty, as your pussy throbbed, before he came on your back.
 “I bet that you’d cum first, didn’t I?” He inquired, lifting your face from the sheets. Toji didn’t even look tired, barely a drop of sweat on him.
“There’s always next time,” you said, smiling. 
144 notes · View notes
sanguineterrain · 7 months
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about first place | eddie munson
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hey guys remember when i wrote for stranger things? lol.
so this is another installment of my about a boy series. you don't have to read them to understand this fic, but idk, you might like those too! check them out if you feel like :)
Summary: Eddie asks you to change plans. You spiral.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings/tags: intrusive (violent and one self-harm) thoughts, self deprecating thoughts, reader spirals, eddie is hurtful (by accident) to the reader, but they communicate and it's resolved. reader feels like they are cast aside and there is trauma behind that feeling. reader is sensitive to rejection and has trouble communicating.
my fics aren't intended to be used as models for perfect communication or anything like that HOWEVER this fic is intended to be a story about communication and building trust and navigating a partner's trauma. if these topics are triggering to you, DO NOT READ.
if you enjoy this, please let me know through reblogs (and a comment, if you feel like!)
divider by firefly-graphics | i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary
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Fridays are dinner nights with Eddie. Sometimes you do them on Saturday, but usually, every week, you two have dinner. It hasn’t gone on for very long; you’ve only just begun to feel comfortable eating in front of Eddie. But you like it. Sometimes Wayne joins you two. It feels like you have a home.
And after every dinner, you confirm with Eddie that he'll come over next week too. People like when you confirm plans in advance. You like when people confirm plans and keep their commitments. 
You like that Eddie comes over. You like that he wants to come over. 
The phone rings. You put down the wooden spoon and answer. 
"Hello?"
"Hey, sweet thing!" Eddie says. "Hey, so, I'm at Gareth's place right now, and our campaign is running long. It's so good, babe, I just created this new storyline and everybody loves it! Wheeler even said she might join next week. Am I a genius or what?"
You smile. "You're a genius, Eds. Nancy appreciates a good story; I’m not surprised you wowed her.”
"Aw, you flatter me, sweet thing. So, uh, I know I'm supposed to come over for dinner, but would it be okay if I took a rain check? Only because…"
You don't hear the rest of the sentence. The only thing that rings in your ears is rain check. Eddie's canceling. Eddie's sick of you. 
"...Is that alright?" he finally asks. "I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow." 
Your chest constricts. Eddie's expecting agreeability. He's expecting your acquiescence to the fact that he's sick of you. 
"Sure," you say tightly. 
There's a pause. Then, "So, I’ll swing by tomorrow?"
"No." You haven't prepared to interact with people tomorrow, you prepared for today. And tonight was planned a week in advance, but Eddie wants to change plans. Eddie cares more about Hellfire than spending time with you. 
Eddie is just like the rest of them.
"How ‘bout Monday? Or later next week? I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing."
Your throat feels tight. You need to end the conversation now or your guts will unspool all over the floor and Eddie will hear you try to stuff them back into your stomach. 
"It's fine. We don't need to reschedule. Bye."
You hang up. Immediately, your stomach hurts. Why should you feel guilty? Eddie abandoned plans that you made a week ago for his other friends. Eddie doesn't care about you. That's always how it goes. People hurt you and they don't care, and then you're the one who feels guilty for hanging up on them. 
Thoughts of Eddie crashing his van or Eddie getting struck by lightning flash unbidden into your mind and your stomach ache gets worse. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you think those things? You don't want that to happen to Eddie. You love Eddie, even though you were bound to eat too much love and get a stomach ache. 
You feel like doing something that would make your mother mad at you. You feel like digging your nails into the bathroom tile grout and scraping until you see the sun. You feel like carving scars into the kitchen table. 
Goddammit, you need to stop the bad thoughts. Think good thoughts. Think thoughts normal people have. Pretend you're normal. Pretend you're loved. 
You look at the pot of boiling water. Would Eddie come over if you stuck your hand in?
No, God, what's wrong with you? You fucking psycho. This is why no one keeps their plans with you! Eddie's job isn't to take care of you, to hold your hand and pet your hair and tell you he's happy to be here with you. 
You're wrong, you were born wrong, and that's your problem, not his. That's why he's gone. That's why everybody leaves. 
Knock knock. 
You look at the door, spooked. Did someone hear your thoughts? Are they finally here to take you away? 
"Sweet thing, you there? Can I please come in?"
If you let Eddie in, you'll have to tell him it's okay, and your guts will be there for him to see because you haven't cleaned them up yet, and he'll know you've been crying over him even though he called first which is more than you've ever been given before, and your stomach ache will triple and and and—
"It's open," you say. 
Eddie comes in. Your face is impenetrable. Stone. No, concrete. No, obsidian. Your face is obsidian, and Eddie's got a plastic hammer. You'll win and you can scoop up your guts later. 
"Hey," Eddie says softly. "Hey, sweetheart."
You take a step back. This is a trick.
"Why aren't you with your friends?" you ask, crossing your arms.
Eddie winces. "I’m sorry, baby. That was a mistake. I realized that after we hung up. I shouldn't have tried to reschedule. You and I made plans, and they're important to me. I ended the game—we're gonna meet next week." 
"You can go. I don't care."
Eddie's mouth flattens. You've hurt his feelings, but he hurt yours first, but you don't want to hurt his at all, but but but—
"I'm sorry I hurt you," Eddie says. "I don't want to reschedule or ditch our plans. I wanna spend time with you, I do."
"I don't want you here," you say. "I want you to leave, Eddie. I don't forgive you."
Eddie's face crumples. But he nods. "Okay, baby. I-I'll leave if you want me to go. I respect your space. You don't have to forgive me right now." 
Oh no. Eddie came prepared. Eddie has a diamond-tipped drill. 
"I'm never first," you blurt.
Eddie tilts his head. "What do you mean?"
He's still gentle. He's still here. Even though you didn't forgive him. Even though you're mad at him. Even though you'll never be normal. He's listening anyway. 
"No one puts me first. You did, but then you didn't tonight, even though I made plans enough time in advance. A week is enough time. People are supposed to stick to plans when you ask them a week ahead. It's my fault when I don't give them enough time, and it makes sense when they don't want to spend time with me then, but this time it wasn't my fault. You're supposed to decide you don't like me before this point. It hurts less when you decide earlier." 
Your chest heaves. Eddie's stepping all over your guts. He tracks them across the carpet as he gets closer. You watch the bloody intestine footprints slop behind him. 
"But you said yes. But then you wanted out. I'm never—I'm never first."
Eddie's face splinters further. "Oh, sweetheart—"
You wipe your eyes, pulling the skin hard. 
"I do like you," he says, and your sob breaks. "I do. Nothing'll make me stop liking you. And I love you still. I didn't ask that because I don't like you. It-it doesn't matter why I asked, but avoiding you wasn't the reason. It was a thoughtless thing I did. I thought you wouldn't mind, but you do, and that's okay. That's valid. I want you to tell me that. I want you to say, "Eddie, you dummy, I love ya, but let's keep our plans," and I'll come home."
"You didn't want to," you say, and cry harder. 
"No, baby, it's not like that at all. I wanted to do both, I like the idea of both. I always enjoy spending time with you. I thought maybe since we do this regularly, you wouldn't mind something different too."
You're overreacting. You're scary. This is wrong. This isn't how norm—fucking fuck that word! 
"I'm sorry," you blubber, quivering in place. 
Your legs feel weak. You lean against the counter for support.
Eddie shakes his head. He's a foot away. 
"What're you apologizing for, baby? You don't have to apologize. I hurt you, not the other way around."
"I'm guilty," you say, crying into your hands. "I'm guilty too. I thought bad thoughts. I didn't mean to, but I did, and now you're here, but I want you to be here because you want to be, not because I… I…"
"Is it okay if I touch you?" 
You nod, and Eddie's arms slide around you. Every time he hugs you, you're certain you won't fit together. But you always do. 
"It's okay if you thought bad thoughts," Eddie says into your ear. You feel his voice vibrate through your chest. "You're not your thoughts. And it's okay if some of those thoughts were because you were hurting from what I said. I’m really sorry, sweet thing. I have angry thoughts too, sometimes. But that's all they are. Just thoughts. Just noise. They don't make you bad. You're good. So, so good."
You wrap your arms around Eddie's neck and hug hard. He squeezes you back just as tightly. The pressure feels good. 
"I w-want you to hang out with friends, but I want you to k-keep our plans first," you say, and then brace yourself. You take great, big, shuddering breaths. 
"That is a very reasonable ask, my love. I’ll do that from now on. And how 'bout if we want to change plans, we'll ask at least three days in advance? Is that fair?”
You nod against his shoulder. You stay like that, Eddie rubbing circles on your back. His curls tickle your wet cheek.
"Sorry I ruined it," you say. 
"No, no, you didn't ruin anything. I made a mistake and we're learning how to communicate better. We’re learning.”
"I was scary."
"I don't think so, baby." 
You're quiet for a moment. "I want you to stay and eat with me."
He squeezes your arm. "I would love nothing more, sweet thing." 
You take the colander out of the cabinet. Eddie pushes your guts back into your stomach. No one's ever done that for you.
Perhaps you are loved. No pretending necessary. 
261 notes · View notes
copperbadge · 9 months
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Well, Still Salty.
I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.
Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.
Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via [email protected]. (More on this in a moment also.)
This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.
I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.
But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.
It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.
All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.
Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.
But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.
Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.
Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?
First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.
Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).
Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)
Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.
So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!
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major-mads · 2 months
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Chapter 5: The Dangerous Sky
John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)
Series Masterlist
A/N: We've been planning this chapter for months now, and it's so exciting to finally post it! It's another long one lol! Please comment or reblog and tell us what you think!! Thanks for reading!! <3
Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd
Word Count: 12.7k
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Monday, August 23, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich
Regensburg, Germany…the mission that earned the Hundredth its nickname was finally over.
Nine forts lost. 
Ninety men gone…just like that.
Ninety boys who would not return to their families. 
Among these ninety men was Curt. Buck and John were still in shock when their small group of officers tiredly pushed through the doors into their nissen hut. A few beds were made with fresh sheets, all remnants of their previous owners long gone.
The nightstands and walls that held the pictures Ruth had admired the week before were bare, a fresh slate for a fresh face that would be arriving soon. 
As he walked by Biddick’s bunk, Bucky couldn’t bear to look at it. The wound was still too fresh.
“Knowing Biddick,” he had told Buck in the Algerian desert,” He’s probably sipping on a bottle of schnapps right about now.”
Oh, how he wished he was right.
“Looks like you’ve got mail, Bucky,” Jack spoke up, pointing at the man’s bed that had a few letters thrown on the mattress.
Dropping off his bag with a thud, John sat on the edge of his bed and collected the letters silently, immediately recognizing the neat cursive handwriting on the front.
He let out a gentle sigh and smiled to himself, the corners of his lips curling just slightly. Flipping through the letters, he discovered that all three of them were from Ruth. 
August 17th, August 19th, and August 21st
John opened the first one, carefully unfolding the precious letter, and began to read.
John, Hope and I were barely able to sleep last night. Our worry for you both ate away at us, keeping us awake until the early hours of the morning. Based on what we’ve heard from Frank, that is around the time you were probably waking up in preparation for the mission. I pray for you constantly, John. I pray that God will look out for you, that He’ll protect you, and that He’ll allow you to come back to me. I also pray that Granny’s necklace does its job. Keep it close. I like to think that it’s a little piece of me with you. I don’t think I could imagine not seeing you again. My heart couldn’t take it. I’m afraid I have become very attached to you and your mustache, Major, so I am pushing this thought as far from my mind as I can. It has been difficult. As I sit writing this in the loud mess hall of our base, I can’t help but think back on the dance. That first night we shared with the buzzing crowd surrounding us…the way you calmed my nerves without a word, made me smile, made me laugh. You are unlike anyone I’ve ever known, John Egan, and I worry that you may never be rid of me if you continue to treat me so. I hold every second we’ve shared very near to my heart, and I can’t wait to see your handsome face again. If by some miracle you are back to base by the time this letter arrives, send me a response as soon as possible. I need to know you’re safe, Johnny. I’ll be waiting for you and your letter. Yours, Ruth Morgan
John could almost hear the nurse’s voice in his head reading her words, and his chest filled with warmth as he traced her name lightly with his finger. If he was being honest with himself, he was taken aback by her sincerity. No woman had ever expressed feelings like these to him before.
His relationships with women had always been about a night of pleasure, physical attraction with not much feeling behind it. 
But her words…
‘I worry that you may never be rid of me…’
Ruth was different in every way possible, and when he told her that first night, he had no idea just how much. Placing the letter onto his nightstand, he opened the second one from the 19th, his grin widening when he saw the first line.
Dear Hotshot, I wanted to be the first to inform you of the Yankees’ seven-to-five loss to the Indians today. Yes, I remember our truce, but seeing that you got one last jab on Monday before we parted, I decided that I had one left myself. This makes us even now. Now that that’s out of the way, I can revert to the loving sweetheart who is worried sick for your safe return. I really do mean it when I say you are always on my mind, John. I’ve managed to make it one singular day without seeing or writing to you before giving in and penning this letter. I simply need to get out my nerves and anxieties, thoughts and feelings, and this is the best way to do that. Hope and I went on an evacuation run yesterday, and as we were flying, we wondered if we were near the two of you. Did Buck tell you he proposed? Well, he didn’t technically, but he told Hope he wanted to marry her after the war. Needless to say, she’s been worried sick just as I have, maybe even more with Hugh gone as well (if that’s possible).
Eyes widening, John’s gaze rose from the letter and shot across the room to Gale, who was quietly talking with Hugh at his bunk as he unpacked his bag.
Why did he not tell him?
“Got any big news you wanna share with the class, Buck?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at him while holding up Ruth’s letter.
Gale confusedly looked over at him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Rolling his eyes at Hugh, Buck sauntered over to John, standing over him with hands on his hips. “What are you talking about?”
“Mrs. Hope Cleven,” the older man grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
A bashful smile appeared on Gale’s face. “I’ve got a ring and everything, now. It’ll be after all this is over.”
Standing to his feet, Bucky pulled him into a tight hug and lifted him off the ground. “Whenever it happens, I better be the best man! That’s all I’m sayin’.”
“Yeah, yeah, you will be,” Buck chuckled as John put him down, releasing him from his grip. “Just don’t tell Hugh that.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Hugh shouted across the officer's hut causing Gale to groan. 
“Well, it makes sense. I am Buck’s best friend,” John retorted, sending a sly smirk Hugh’s way which only riled the man up further.
“Yeah, and Hope’s my sister. I’m his future brother-in-law.” 
Gale stepped back as Hugh stomped over to them, coming chest to chest with John who just continued to playfully glare down at him. 
“So what? You're a St. Louis fan,” Bucky pointed at him, a grin tugging at his lips. “That instantly makes you not best man material.” 
Hugh snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and I suppose you being a great Yankees fan makes you the right choice, huh?” 
“Absolutely,” John replied matter of factly. “How can you cheer for a team who lost 11-3 to the Pirates? The Pirates.” 
“At least we didn’t get shut out by the Indians.”
Gale knew this wasn’t going to end well. No one could insult the Yankees to Johnny’s face and get away with it...except Ruth, of course. Before John could find a comeback, Gale stepped up, moving to stand between the two men.
“Now, now. I’m not having you two fighting over being my best man. If it’s that much of a problem, I’ll make Demarco my best man and Meatball can be the ring bearer.” 
Neither of the men seemed too pleased with that outcome. 
“Not Demarco!” 
“Yes, Demarco.” 
John groaned, pursing his lips, and Hugh remained silent, looking at the ground solemnly at their childish behavior. 
“You should choose whoever you want to be your best man, but-” John began with a nod before Hugh interrupted.
“Yeah pick who you want, Gale. Hope will probably want me to walk her down the aisle anyway so I’ll probably be in the bridal party instead.” 
John snickered with raised brows as he imagined Hugh in a bridesmaid’s dress, but he fell silent when Gale elbowed him in the ribs, shooting him a glare..
“Come here,” Bucky pulled Gale into another hug and slapped his friend’s back, “Congratulations, Buck! You’re a helluva guy.” 
“The best,” Hugh added. 
As they stood there celebrating Buck’s life-changing news, the trio couldn’t help but think of their close friend who wasn’t. Their group got even smaller…
“Curt…he would,” John cleared his throat and nodded, forcing down the emotion that threatened to creep up his throat. “He would be happy for you, Buck.”
Gale’s eyes met Bucky’s and they mirrored the same emotions…hurt, regret, sadness. The men who came back never talked about those who didn’t, and both of them knew this was the one time they would.
“Yeah, he would,” Buck breathed, one side of his lips barely turning up into a mournful smile.
Silence filled the air around them there for a few moments, all three stuck in their minds until Gale spoke up.
“That from Ruth?” Buck asked, gesturing to the letter in Johnny’s hand.
He nodded once and sat down on his bunk with a soft smile, suddenly remembering the last half of Ruth’s letter he still had to read. “I’ve got another one to read after this one. Then I’ve gotta write her back.”
As Gale looked down at his friend’s lovesick gaze, he smiled to himself and shook his head. If someone had asked him if John Egan would be rushing to read love letters and send a response to a woman, one woman, whom he’d been seeing over a month, Buck Cleven would’ve told them they were crazy. 
“Tell her I said hello,” Gale said quietly, patting Johnny’s shoulder before returning to his bunk.
He muttered, “Yeah, sure,” before his eyes found the paragraph he left off on. The major’s aching heart was soothed by her words as he continued to read them.
We have been busying ourselves around the base, finding things to keep our mind off the fact that we don’t know where you are…if you’re safe. I’d like to think I’d know in my heart if you were gone. I pray I don’t ever have to face that feeling. Take care of each other wherever you are, alright? I know you watch Buck’s back like he watches yours, Johnny. Keep an eye on Hugh, as well. We both know he can be a troublemaker…like someone else I know. He, however, doesn’t have someone to reel him back in when he gets a little too crazy like you do. I know I’m writing this like you will receive it where you are right now, and not when you return to base, but I’m doing so because it’s the closest thing I have to talking to you.  I miss you, John. Please write when you get this. Praying for your safe return, Your Ruthie 
Scooting onto his bunk more comfortably, Bucky leaned back against the wall and opened the last letter. It was dated just two days prior, so at her current rate, another would be sent before his could reach her. 
My Hotshot, Please come home soon. The past five days have been torture. I go to see if I’ve gotten mail every single day, and each time, I leave a little more disheartened than I came. I feel my heart can’t beat inside my chest until I know you’re safe. I know you’re doing your job…a job that has to be done…but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’m sorry, John, but I don’t have too much time to write. We’re about to leave on an evac run. I long to hear your voice and feel your warm touch. Don’t forget your promise, hon. Come back to me…sooner rather than later. I can’t handle two boyfriends, remember? Missing you, Your Girl
Johnny swallowed thickly, lowering the letter to his lap as his mind raced. He knew that it very easily could’ve been him that went down that fateful day over Regensburg…it was all luck. 
There was a bigger chance than he’d like to admit that he’d go down, that they’d all go down, and the thought of never seeing Ruth again brought a burning to his chest. Reaching up, he grasped the necklace around his neck beside his dog tags, feeling the coolness under his fingers. 
Her Granny’s necklace sure did its job.
John brought the cross to his lips, kissing it softly as he silently thanked Virginia Morgan up above for the good luck.
Once the letters were carefully stored in the growing bundle of her correspondences he kept in his nightstand, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and a pen. Using his book as a backer, he began to write.
Ruthie, Hey, sweetheart. I’m glad that you kept your promise about the letters, and I’m also glad to say that I’ve managed to come back to you in one piece. By now, you’ve probably read about the raid in the papers. It was a tough one, and reading your letters helped more than you’ll ever know. Thanks for telling me of Buck’s “proposal.” The chump hadn’t even told me about it! So much for a best friend, right?  He says ‘hello,’ by the way.  Hugh thinks he has a chance at best man, but we all know that’s not gonna happen. You’ll be the maid of honor and I’ll be the best man…I can see it now: Buck crying like a baby and you looking like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve missed you, Ruthie. I still can’t believe that a wonderful woman like yourself would ever spare a poor sucker like me the time of day. Each time we part, I find myself replaying our every moment spent together. When we were stuck in the Algerian desert under the scorching sun, my thoughts always wandered back to you.  Your skin, your hair, your smile, your lips…the way you make me laugh. You are unlike any woman I’ve ever known, Ruth Morgan, and if I am never rid of you (as you wrote), I would consider myself the luckiest man in the world.  Stay safe up there on your runs for me. Your Hotshot, John Egan P.S. Tell your other boyfriend that I’m back and not willing to share.
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Saturday, August 28, 1944: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base
John, Gale, and Hugh were riding from their nissen huts to the mess hall when the familiar roar of a C-47 filled the air. The sound meant their girls were on base, and it filled them with excitement as they peddled faster towards the landing strip. 
“Did you know they were coming today?” Buck asked, quickly glancing over at Johnny and Hugh.
John shook his head, a lazy grin curving his lips. “No, Ruth didn’t mention it in her last letter.”
Gale nodded to himself but couldn’t shake the feeling deep down that something was wrong. As they approached the airstrip, Colonel Harding appeared, calling out to John.
“Bucky! I need to talk to you,” he yelled from the balcony of the nearby flight tower.
Holding in a groan, Johnny nodded at Hugh and turned his bike toward the tower. “Tell Ruth I’ll see her in a minute.”
It all happened so quickly.
The flight had been uneventful. 
All their patients were stable, and Frank and his fellow pilot were singing together in the cockpit. Hope and Ruth had taken their seats and were enjoying resting their legs for a while. 
That was until the Ack-Ack’s had started firing.
Hope hissed, resting her palm against her injured thigh as she slid out of the plane. The bloodied bandage did nothing to stem the steady flow of thick blood. It hadn't been gushing with a constant flow but seemed to increase as her heart pounded faster and faster in her chest. 
Memories of the shrapnel piercing her thigh, having pranged around the aircraft before embedding itself into her, flashed in her mind. Looking back, she shouldn’t have pulled it out, but despite Ruth’s protests, she was stubborn, and without the blonde’s quick thinking at applying pressure and a tourniquet, she wondered if this would have been a different situation. Hope hated feeling weak and not being in control, but her stubbornness could have cost her life. 
“You need to get that leg checked out, Hope,” Ruth glanced over, her usually soft features etched with fear and concern, but Hope, still being her stubborn self, shook her head. 
“Ruth’s right, Hope. It’s a bad wound and we’d all feel a lot better if you got it checked out,” Frank added, helping the blonde with getting a stretcher into the ambulance. 
“We need to tend to our patients first,” Hope shuffled over to the nearest man on a stretcher, quickly informing the stretcher-bearers of his condition before they carted him towards the ambulance. 
Glancing at his watch quickly, the pilot cursed under his breath. “I’ve gotta go radio the base and let them know what happened.” He pointed at Hope as he hurried off. “Get it checked.”
“Do you need that leg looked at, Miss?” One of the young men asked, “There’s room in the ambulance.” 
Hope shook her head, politely declining any assistance. That was until two familiar faces came rushing over, a mixture of fear, anger, and horror on their faces as they noticed the side of their C-47.
“What the hell happened, Girls?” Hugh asked, glancing between his sister, then Ruth, then back to Hope. “Shit! You’re bleeding.” He reached forward but Hope pulled away, shrugging him off.
“I'm fine, Hugh. It's just a scratch. I'll get it looked at later,” she dismissed him.
By now she could feel Gale’s eyes boring into her, his sharp blues missing nothing. He felt her discomfort as she hobbled along, trying to avoid resting her hand against the wound to draw attention to it. 
“That looks a hell of a lot more than a scratch, Hope,” Gale stepped forward to stand beside Hugh, his movements stiff and mechanical, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to act. “You’re covered in blood.” 
Hope looked down at her uniform, noticing that from her waist down both her legs were soaked in blood and she was beginning to feel lightheaded. “I said I'm fine,” Hope snapped, exasperated and in pain. 
She just wanted to do her job, why couldn't they understand that?
“What happened, Hope?” Gale’s eyes were dead serious as they watched her, clearly annoyed but wracked with concern. Hope just looked back at him, unable to move or speak for fear she might cry. 
“It was the Ack-Ack’s,” Ruth quietly spoke up, and the men turned to see her own blood-soaked uniform, her hands still shaking at her side. “The plane was hit by flak fire. A chunk of shrapnel went flying around… got Hope in the thigh,” Ruth sighed and let her gaze fall to the ground, knowing that Hope might not forgive her for the next part. “She pulled it out herself. We applied pressure and a dressing but she needs to see a doctor.” 
If looks could kill, Ruth would be six feet under the airbase by now. 
“YOU DID WHAT?” Gale cried out, his face white with horror but his sharp eyes burning in a way none of them had ever seen before. “Are you some sort of idiot? Everyone knows not to pull things out of a wound. You could have bled out.” Gale’s chest was heaving as he fought the anger that built up within him. His hands clenched in fists at his side as he continued. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” 
Hugh reached out to him, trying to cool the situation down but Hope intervened. 
“I had patients on board. I'm no good to them if I bleed out everywhere. I thought quickly and went with the best possible outcome.” 
Gale snorted, waving his hands out in front of him, “Of course you did. You thought of the best possible outcome for you. What about the rest of us, Hope? What would happen if you had died?” 
Hope sent him a hostile glare, jaw clenched and her lip curling slightly as she spoke, “Do you realize how selfish you sound?” 
Gale scoffed, “I’m selfish. Did you for one-second think of what we'd have done if you had died?” 
Despite being outside surrounded by wounded soldiers, you could have heard a pin drop. 
Hope’s eyes scanned over the group, looking into the faces of her friends and seeing the same hurt looks. Ruth’s face was still tilted toward the ground with closed eyes as she listened to the bickering. The fear, the explosions, and the sound of Hope’s pained scream replayed in the woman’s mind, and she felt like her heart was going to explode inside her chest. 
It was too much. It was all too much.
Ruth was vaguely aware of the rest of the group leaving the airfield, Buck trailing off after Hope as she stormed away, and Hugh marching off as well. She stood there silently, trying to keep herself from falling apart…
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The second Bucky was dismissed by Colonel Harding, he jogged down the stairs to his bike outside. Pedaling to the airstrip, he could only think of Ruth’s smiling face that he would soon be seeing. The hum of engines reached his ears as he turned around the corner of a shortcut, and the sight of her familiar figure standing before the C-47 sparked even more excitement within him. A grin formed on his face and he pedaled faster, eager to greet her. 
As the plane came into better view, his smirk fell as he noticed a giant hole in its fuselage. Johnny’s gaze snapped back to Ruth, and when he looked closer, his initial excitement transformed into horror. The world seemed to blur when his eyes focused on the blood-soaked flight uniform that clung to her. Panic seized him, and without a second thought, he leaped off the still-moving bicycle, letting it clatter to the concrete behind him as he sprinted toward Ruth, his boots pounding against the hard ground.
“Ruth! Ruth, what happened?” he cried desperately, his voice echoing off the nearby buildings. 
Johnny reached her in a whirlwind, taking her face in his hands, his panicked blue eyes inspecting her face intensely, scanning for any sign of injury. He then moved to her torso, his hands running over her body frantically.
As his hands desperately searched Ruth’s uniform, his voice trembled with fear. “You hurt?”
For a moment, she didn’t respond, and then suddenly, her tear-filled eyes met his. The Major’s hands, once frantic in their search, were now pleading. "Ruthie, come on. Talk to me. I need to know you’re okay." 
She gently placed her hands over his, stopping him. “It’s not mine,” she finally whispered, her voice strained. “We flew into a flack field, and, uh, Hope. She got hit in the leg. Buck’s with her now.”
‘Ruth’s okay,’ John repeated in his frazzled mind. “She’s okay.
A relieved sigh escaped his lips and John wrapped his arms around her, pulling the woman into him tightly. Her head was tucked into his chest as uncontrollable tremors ran through her body. 
“You’re okay, doll. I’ve got you,” he murmured against her temple. “I’m here.”
His heart broke as he felt a sob rack through her body, her weak cries reaching his ears. “I-I was so scared, John. I thought we were gonna die.”
Bucky pulled back slightly and moved his hands to grasp her tear-streaked cheeks gently, her pain-filled blue eyes nearly tearing him apart. 
“Hey, hey, hey,��� he whispered, leaning down to meet her gaze as he wiped her tears softly with the pad of his thumbs. “You didn’t, okay? It’s over now. You’re safe, Ruth. It’s over.”
She took a shaky deep breath, trying to calm herself, but another cry fought its way up her throat and the nurse let out a choked sob. With each breathless gasp that left her lips, Ruth’s heart pounded faster and she suddenly felt her chest tightening.
John knew what the startings of a panic attack looked like, and he tried to recall how Franny had taught him to calm Lena down all those years ago when they were teenagers. Seeing Ruth’s usually bright and loving personality in such a fearful and panicked state sent his mind into overdrive.
“Ruth,” he urged, his hands still cradling her face. “Look at me, sweetheart.”
Her watery gaze met his, her breaths coming out in short uneven gasps. 
“I need you to breathe.”
Taking a deep breath through his nose, John nodded at her with raised brows, worry etching his face. “With me, now.”
Ruth shook her head. “I-I can’t-”
“Yes, you can,” the Major asserted firmly, reaching for her hand and holding it against his chest. “Feel that? Breathe with me. In…” he breathed through his nose. “And out.”
After a moment, she shakily followed suit, her eyes never leaving his. The warmth of John’s hand enveloping hers and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her touch grounded her in the moment. Gradually, her breathing began to regulate, the erratic gasps giving way to steady inhales and exhales. Johnny watched her closely, his eyes searching for any signs that the attack might return.
“There you go,” he murmured. “Just keep breathing with me, doll.”
With each measured breath, Ruth felt the tightness of her chest gradually ease, the weight of her fear lifting. After a few minutes, her breath completely steadied, and the panic attack passed, leaving her drained but calmer.
Ruth leaned into John’s comforting embrace, her forehead moving to rest against his chest as she let out a shuddering sigh. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “I-I’m sorry you had to see me like this, covered in blood and…and a mess.”
John placed a soft kiss to her temple. “None of that. You’re okay. That’s all I care about.”
As she stepped back into his arms, her eyes welled up with tears once more. “But look at you,” she protested weakly, gesturing to the smears of blood that marred his brown button-up undershirt. “I’ve ruined your shirt.”
Bucky shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “This old thing? I’ve got a million of ‘em anyways, Ruthie. It’s just a shirt. Wasn’t even my Sunday’s best,” he reassured her gently. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t wear my lucky jacket today.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.  “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and slowly led her toward the nearby operations building, still feeling her body shaking beneath his touch. As they turned the corner, they were met with Bubbles walking past a jeep. His face scrunched in concern and the usual smile fell from his lips at the sight of the bloodied woman. 
“Shit! What happened, Bucky?” he asked, quickly approaching them. “Do I need to go get Doc Stover?”
“No,” Ruth piped up, mustering the best smile she could. Even Bubbles could see straight through it.
John shook his head. “We’re alright, but I’ve gotta take your ride, Bubbles. Sorry.”
“Oh, that’s not mine. It’s Kidd’s.”
“Even better,” he smirked, opening the passenger door for Ruth before climbing behind the wheel. “Tell him I owe him one.”
Bubbles raised a brow with a barely concealed grin. “He’s gonna be pissed, sir.”
“Ehh, he’ll get over it.”
Nodding, the lieutenant turned to enter the building, but Bucky called out to him. “Oh! Bubbles, could you grab my bike? It’s somewhere near the ‘47 back there. Tell Jack it’s his for the day! Thanks!”
As the jeep roared to life, John tucked Ruth under his arm much like he did the night of the dance, and then they were off. She laid her head on his shoulder and her eyes slowly fluttered shut, sleep calling to her after the day’s events.
John peered down at her with a saddened smile as he took in her splotchy face and the blood that seemed to coat the bottom half of her uniform. Some of it even clung to her hair, the light blonde strands covered by the sticky, maroon substance. 
As he felt her finally relax in his hold, he let out a shaky breath, his heart finally beating regularly in his chest again. The Major knew how terrifying flack encounters were, and he was trained in how to handle it…well, he was used to it. Ruth, on the other hand, was not. It was her job to keep men alive while in the air, not worrying about being shot out of the sky by some German on an anti-aircraft gun.
Rage bubbled from within him at the thought. If the blast was just a little closer, there was a chance that he wouldn’t be holding her in his arms. If one more-
“I missed you,” she murmured, breaking Bucky from his thoughts as she nuzzled into his shoulder. “I was so worried about you, John.”
He took a steadying breath, pushing down his anger as he ran his hand along Ruth’s arm softly. “I missed you, too, doll. And I guess we’re even now, ‘cause I think I just lost ten years of my life back there.”
A tired laugh escaped her lips. “Imagine feeling that way for 9 days.”
Johnny could hear the exhaustion in her voice, and he squeezed her shoulder, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her hairline.
“Get some shut-eye, alright? We’ve got a stop to make before we go back to my hut.”
She nodded against him as her eyes fluttered closed again, sleep quickly overtaking her. 
As she slept soundly under his arm, he pulled up to a hut with a familiar figure smoking outside. “Miss Tatty,” John whisper-shouted, careful not to wake up Ruth. “Could you do me a favor?”
Raising a brow, she took a drag of her cigarette and approached the jeep, her smile falling when she saw the nurse’s bloody figure beside him. “She alright?”
“Flack hit her stick,” He sighed, running his free hand down his face. “She’s alright, but Hope got pinked in the thigh. Scared her half to death.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Could you find some extra clothes for her? She’s gonna need some fresh ones.”
Tatty nodded at him, a determined expression gracing her face. “I’ll get some now.”
It only took the woman a few minutes to emerge from the hut with a small bundle in her hand. “This should be enough,” she said, placing the bag into the back of the jeep. “But please stop by again if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Tatty. I owe ‘ya one.”
A tiny chuckle left her lips as she pointed her finger between Ruth and John. “Just don’t screw this one up, John, and we can call it even.”
“I don’t plan on it,” he grinned toothily, putting the jeep back in drive and starting down the road again. John’s hut was across the base, and he spent the short drive tapping the steering wheel to the tune of One O’Clock Jump while stealing glances at the sleeping woman in his arms. 
When the jeep rumbled to a stop outside the officer’s hut, Johnny rubbed Ruth’s shoulder. “Wake up, doll. We’re here,” he said gently, a soft smile playing at his lips as she lazily sat up, blinking away the sleep in her swollen eyes. “You need to get washed up.”
Ruth lazily looked around them and realized where they were.  “How long was I out?”
“Not long. Only about half an hour.”
Her eyes fell to her lap, the slick blood still staining the uniform. She was suddenly aware of how terrible she felt. It was everywhere. On her skin, in her hair…
“I feel disgusting,” she whispered, holding up her red-stained hands. 
“I know, doll. Here are some clothes you can change into after you shower.” Bucky reached back and grabbed the small bag that Tatty had given him, squeezing her shoulder before getting out of the jeep. “Let me go grab my kit for you and I’ll be right back.”
The second the door shut behind him, Ruth’s gaze fell back down to her hands, on the crusted blood under her nails, on Hope’s blood. At the thought, a strike of anxiety coursed through her, and the nurse could feel her heartbeat speed up. The shaking of the plane and the sound of the hot metal flying through the cabin rang in her ears as she closed her eyes tightly.
Among the chaos in her mind, she heard Johnny’s calming words. 
‘I need you to breathe…in and out.’
Following his voice, she took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to calm her racing heart. Ruth repeated the action and ached for his comforting presence beside her. 
‘Breathe. In and out.’
Inside his hut, Johnny was strutting to his bunk when he heard a soft snore from his left. His eyes followed the sound to a bed across the room, a smile growing on his face when he realized it was Buck and Hope. Her dark hair was splayed on his chest, and Gale had an arm around her waist as the couple peacefully slept, their faces free from worry.
It was the most peaceful slumber Bucky had ever seen Gale have throughout their three-year friendship. 
He let out a chuckle under his breath and quietly gathered his shower pack, sparing them one last glance before closing the door behind him. As John emerged from the hut, Ruth’s eyes rose to his figure. His gaze locked with hers and he could once again see the worry in her blue eyes. He quickly approached the jeep but was stopped when someone called out to him. 
“Bucky?”
Johnny turned to his left, seeing Majors Dye and Veal jogging toward him with wide eyes.
“You good?” Dye asked, eyeing the smears of blood on his shirt. Bill just stared at him warily, the only emotion on his face visible by the slight crease in his brow.
 “I’m fine, boys,” Bucky replied with a smirk, his eyes floating to Ruth over their shoulder. “Thanks for the concern, but you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”
The pair followed his gaze, sharing a silent look when they saw Ruth in the jeep. 
“Wait,” Bill spoke up gravelly, nodding towards John’s shirt. “Is that her blood?”
Scratching his mustache, John glanced at Ruth before lowering his voice and leaning closer to them. “No, but it’s Hope’s. Buck’s in there with her. They’ve both had a real shitty day.”
Dye nodded and sent her a sympathetic smile which she shakily returned. “We’ll tell the guys to steer clear for a little while.”
John could tell Ruth was teetering again, and he clapped Glen’s back, throwing a quick ‘thanks’ over his shoulder as he walked back to the jeep, his attention completely on his girl. He rounded the bumper to lean against the passenger side, offering her his hand. “Come on, let’s go get you squeaky clean again, Ruthie.”
Nodding silently, she let him lead her to the bathhouse. Ruth stood in the corner while he turned on the shower, the hot steam already fogging up the mirrors when he stepped back and held his shower pack out to her. “I-uh don’t know how hot you like it, so I just-”
“I’m sure it’s perfect,” she replied softly, taking the pack. ”Thank you.”
He stared at her for a few moments and took in the pure exhaustion on her features, his hand instinctively reaching up to push some hair behind her ear as he spoke softly. “I’ll be right outside. Gotta make sure no one sneaks a peek of my girl.”
Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss against her lips before backing toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, her voice stopped him in his tracks.
“John?”
He turned. “Yeah?”
“Can, um, can you stay?” she asked nervously, her eyes trained on the floor. “I don’t want to be alone.”
As Ruth’s request hung in the air, John’s mind went into overdrive. He felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks and his heart pounded in his chest. Swallowing hard, he struggled to find the right words. 
“Yeah, I’ll stay,” he finally replied softly. 
Even as he spoke the words, his mind was in turmoil and his thoughts spiraled out of control. John was unable to tear his gaze from her as she slowly began to unzip her flight uniform, revealing her red-tinged tank top underneath. When Ruth caught his stare, her cheeks flushed.
“Um, John,” her voice broke through the silence, her tone hesitant. “Could you…could you look away please?”
“Right,” Bucky muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the running water as he snapped out of his trance and spun to face the door. “Sorry.”
As she continued to undress, John tried to focus on anything other than what was happening behind him. He stared at the cracked cement floor, willing himself to remain composed, to keep his thoughts in check. When he heard the rustle of the curtain opening and closing, he let out a shaky breath as relief flooded through him.
Despite his efforts to focus on anything else, his thoughts kept drifting back to the woman on the other side of the curtain, her presence a constant in his mind. Bucky knew he should respect her privacy and give her a moment to decompress after the day’s stressful events, but the temptation proved too strong and before he could stop himself, he found his gaze drifting back to the shower.
John stole a glance through the opaque shower curtain, his body heating up at the sight of Ruth's silhouette moving gracefully beneath the spray of water. But as quickly as the temptation came, a wave of shame washed over him, and he quickly averted his gaze, chastising himself for his lack of self-control.
He traced the outline of her body in his mind, and then the shame came rolling right back again. Bucky knew he had to take his mind off of the woman…or at least try to…so he began to sing under his breath.
“Never saw the sun shining so bright,
Never saw things looking so right.
Watching the days hurrying by,
When you’re in love, my how they fly,
Blue days, all of ‘em gone,
Nothin’ but blue skies from now on…”
Ruth stood beneath the warm spray of water, letting it cascade over her weary body, washing away the dirt and grime of the day. The hot water soothed her aching muscles and eased the tension that had settled deep within her bones. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh of relief, allowing herself a moment of rest.
As John’s soft singing filled the air, Ruth couldn’t help but smile. His voice, though not the most melodic, calmed her frayed nerves and eased the knot of fear that had lodged itself in her chest. 
“John,” she called out over the sound of the water.
“Yeah?” Came his muffled reply.
“Could you sing a little louder?”
Bucky ducked his head with a grin and raised his voice, switching to a new song.
“And when I told them how beautiful you are,
They didn’t believe me. They didn’t believe me.
Your lips, your eyes, your curly hair,
Are in a class beyond compare,
You’re the loveliest girl that one could see…”
Ruth closed her eyes and let his deep voice wash over her, allowing herself to get lost in the rhythm of the song. 
“And when I tell them, 
And I’m cert’nly gonna tell them,
That I’m the man whose wife one day you’ll be.
They’ll never believe me. They’ll never believe me. 
That from this great big world you’ve chosen me!”
As she listened to him, she began to scrub the blood from her skin, feeling a wave of emotion course through her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the memories of the day flooded her mind, but John’s voice calmed her, and she rapidly blinked them away. She knew that she wasn’t alone…that she had someone to stay by her side…someone to take care of her. 
It took her a few washes to get the dried blood from her hair, and she sighed in relief when she could run her fingers through the strands without getting caught in a tangle. The water turned off with a click, and she stuck her head out the curtain, making sure only her face was visible. 
“Could you pass me my towel?”
Johnny turned back towards her and quickly averted his gaze as reached for her towel hanging nearby. “Here,” he said, extending it towards her without making eye contact before facing the door once again.
“Thanks,” she replied, accepting the towel and beginning to dry herself off.
Ruth quickly got dressed, making a mental note to thank Tatty later, and ran the towel over her sopping wet hair. Once fully ready, she spoke up, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. “Okay, you can turn around now.”
Turning towards her slowly, John’s breath caught in his throat as he took her in. Her short blonde hair was slightly tousled from the shower, its natural waves making an appearance, and her cheeks flushed from the heat of the water. Ruth wore some navy pants that fit her perfectly with a dark, oversized wine colored sweater. Despite the exhaustion that lingered in her eyes, Johnny’d never seen something as beautiful in his 27 years.
“Wow,” John chuckled, approaching her slowly and cupping her cheek. “Would you look at that. Damn gorgeous.”
Her cheeks flushed even deeper at his words, a shy smile tugging the corners of her lips as she leaned into his touch. “You’re such a flirt,” she murmured.
Without hesitation, Johnny leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss, his hand weaving into her blonde waves. As they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the bathhouse. 
As he slowly leaned back, Ruth’s eyes caught sight of the raised scabs on his nose, cheekbone, and forehead. She reached up tentatively, barely touching them as she inspected his face. 
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice laced with concern. “I didn’t even notice before.”
John’s gaze softened as he met her worried eyes. “Just a few scratches, Ruthie. Nothing to worry about.”
She nodded, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “Was it from Regensburg?”
The Major hesitated for a moment, the mental image of Curt’s plane exploding flashing in his mind before he could stop the thought. He nodded once and forced his face to remain neutral. “Yeah.”
Little did he know that the blonde could see the pain in his blue eyes.
Ruth shook her head, a frown tugging at her lips. “You’ve been taking care of me all day, and I-I should have noticed sooner. I’m sorry.”
He reached out, gently taking her hand. “Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “I’m really fine, doll. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
He forced all thoughts of the mission from his mind, focusing on the present.
“You’re lucky,” he smirked down at her, mischief floating in his eyes. “I don’t give free concerts to just anyone.”
Ruth couldn’t hold in a laugh at his remark and the soft sound echoed through the small room. “Well, lucky for you,” she teased back. “If you gave out tickets for free, nobody would show up anyway.”
John rolled his eyes playfully, his heart swelling with relief as he listened to Ruth’s laughter, even her small smile warming him from the inside out. It eased the tension and guilt in his chest and filled him with a sense of happiness that he couldn’t quite put into words. He leaned in to kiss her forehead gently, savoring the feeling of her soft skin against his lips.
“You feeling any better?”
“I feel clean,” Ruth sighed wistfully. “Tired but clean.”
Gathering all her used items from the bathroom, she threw them into the dirty bin in the corner of the room. Bucky took her hand and brought them to his hut’s door, holding a finger to his lips.
“What?” she yawned as he opened the door for her. “What are-”
She cut herself off when she spotted them. Buck and Hope were still sleeping in each other’s arms, and a wide smile formed on her face when she looked up at Johnny who was already peering down at her. 
‘Hope’s fine,’ she thought. ‘They must have made up.’
Ruth had to throw a hand over her mouth to keep in the excited giggle that threatened to escape her lips, and John shook his head, tugging her away from the couple to his bunk.
She sank into his bed and inhaled deeply. Ruth closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the scent of his pillow, a mixture of his cologne and the army-issue shampoo they all used. It was a comforting smell, one that made her feel at ease.
As Ruth settled onto the bed, John made his way to the footlocker at the foot of the bunk, rummaging around for a clean shirt. Turning onto her back, she stared up at him as his fingers loosened the knot of his tie, pulling it free from around his neck. He tossed it into his footlocker before moving on to the buttons of his brown uniform shirt, revealing the pink-splotched tank top beneath.
Ruth couldn’t tear her gaze away if she tried.
She watched in silence, her face burning as he shrugged off the shirt, exposing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. When he finally pulled off the tank top, leaving him shirtless, a lump formed in her throat and heat surged through her. 
‘Get it together, Ruth,’ she thought. 
John caught her gaze and smirked, raising an eyebrow as he placed his hands on his hips. “So you can look, but I can’t?”
Ruth sputtered for a moment, her cheeks turning an impossibly deeper shade of red, but John chuckled softly. “I’m just joking, doll. Look all you want.“
She couldn’t help but admire him openly, her eyes tracing the lines of his chest and the curve of his shoulders. He was undeniably handsome…she knew that. But seeing him like this took her attraction to a whole new level and her heart fluttered in her chest.
Ruth eyed the few things that dangled from his neck: his dog tags, a small Virgin Mary pendant, and her Granny’s cross. 
Ruth silently thanked her Grandmother for bringing him back to her. 
Grabbing a fresh shirt from his footlocker, John slipped it on and kicked off his shoes before settling onto the bed, sliding back to sit against the wall. Ruth shifted to make herself comfortable and rested her head on his lap as Johnny’s fingers brushed over her damp hair.
They talked quietly for a few minutes, their conversation meandering aimlessly as they both enjoyed the other’s company. Soon, Ruth’s eyelids grew heavy, and her words began to drift off mid-sentence. Bucky watched her fondly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as she slipped into sleep, her warm breaths against his thigh.
Sighing, he carefully reached for his beat-up copy of Guys and Dolls on his nightstand and began to read, holding it up with one hand. His other hand rested on Ruth’s head as he absentmindedly stroked her hair as he read, only lifting it to flip the page. 
‘Only a rank sucker will think of taking two peeks at Dave the Dude’s doll, because while Dave may stand for the first peek, figuring it is a mistake, it is a sure thing he will get sored up at the second peek, and Dave the Dude is certainly not a man to have sored up on you. But this Waldo Winchester is one hundred percent sucker…’
The only sounds filling the room were each of the four’s quiet breaths, and John was able to read a few chapters before he heard rustling across from him. He lowered his book to see Buck sitting up slightly, rubbing his eyes with a yawn.
“Welcome back, sleeping beauty,” John grinned, his voice hushed.
Gale’s head lifted to get a look at his friend and a chuckle escaped him seeing Johnny with a wide-mouthed Ruth lying in his lap, her blonde hair covering his thighs. “Look at us.”
“Yeah. Who would’ve thought.”
Silence filled the air again as each thought of the woman beside them. A few moments later, John broke the stillness of the nissen hut. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s…She’s good,” Gale replied as he fought to keep a blush from his cheeks at the memory of their confession and what came after. “How’s Ruth?”
Johnny shook his head with a saddened sigh. “Real shaken up, Buck. You should’ve seen her earlier. I was…I was worried.”
“I know the feeling. She doin’ any better now?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Finally cracked a smile and seemed herself when she saw you two.”
A gentle smile tugged at Buck’s lips as his gaze drifted down to Hope who continued to sleep soundly. Her breathing was shallow and her nose wrinkled occasionally as she dreamed. At some point, she had moved her left hand to clutch onto his shirt and he could see the ring glisten in the dim light. “I popped the question.”
“So it’s official?”
“Yep. 
“Congratulations, Buck,” Johnny smiled, a brow raising a few seconds later. “I am gonna be your best man, right?”
With an eye roll, Gale nodded at him. “Of course, you are, lardass.”
“Good.”
“As if I could watch Hope walk down the aisle without you by my side.”
“Exactly. You'll be crying like a baby anyway. I’ll have to bring plenty of tissues,” John chuckled, pleased that a sleeping Hope was keeping Gale anchored to the bed. Otherwise, he thought something would have been thrown his way. 
“I can’t say you’re much better,” Gale pointed out, nodding his head toward them. “Look at you. Never thought I’d see the day that John Egan wrote love letters, much less something like this.”
John chuckled and thought about how different his life had been since that day in July. “Well, I finally found one worth writing to. Ruth…she’s uh, she-”
 As if she had heard her name, the blonde stirred on his lap, stretching and yawning loudly before her eyes made contact with Gale who smiled at her.
“Good morning, Gale greeted her, causing Ruth to blush. She hadn’t realized she had an audience watching her wake up and only hoped she hadn’t been snoring loudly. 
She rolled onto her back to face John and was met with a gentle smile and loving blue eyes gazing down at her. “Hey there. Feeling better?”
“Still tired,” Ruth sighed and sat up, rubbing away the sleepers that had accumulated in her swollen eyes. “But I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”
John had to hold in a laugh at the way her blonde waves stuck up in all different directions from where they had dried on his lap. “Well, your wish is my command, doll, so what do you wanna do?”
“What is there to do?”
“Have you seen the hard stands yet?” Gale spoke up. “Lemmons might even have Billy and Sammy over there.”
“Billy and Sammy?”
“Two little squirts that Kenny’s taken under his wing,” John answered with a nod.
At the mention of the kids, Ruth’s face lit up, and a wide grin grew on her lips. All evidence of sleep disappeared from her features as she excitedly clambered off the major’s lap and stood to her feet, brushing her fingers through her hair to tame the wild locks.
As he watched her, Johnny felt a pang of sadness at the sight of Ruth’s sudden enthusiasm. It hit him then, that she probably hadn’t seen many kids since becoming a nurse. As a teacher, she was surrounded by them every day, and now, their innocent faces were likely a distant memory in her mind.
“They’re a handful, those two,” Bucky chuckled, rising to his feet beside her. “But they’re good kids. Come on, let’s go see if Kenny’s putting em’ to work over at the hard stands.”
Walking out of the hut, the couple sent Buck a “thanks” as they walked by him. Ruth’s eyes fell on Hope’s still sleeping figure, her heart twinging at the memories of the morning, but she didn’t worry. Gale was there to take care of her.
John and Ruth spent the short ride to the hard stands talking about their weeks, and he almost let the news of Gale and Hope’s engagement slip a few times before they rumbled to a stop in front of Muggs’ hardstand. 
He was determined to keep his mouth shut for once. Bucky knew Hope should be the one to tell Ruth about her engagement, and he didn’t want to be the one to ruin the surprise.
Hopping out of the jeep, John’s eyes searched for Lemmons. “Kenny?”
Ruth glanced over at him skeptically. “He here?”
“Should be. He said he’d fix the old girl up today.”
They approached the fort, and Ruth was shocked by its sheer size. Yes, her C-47 was big, but the B-17 was different. Her plane carried supplies, people, almost anything…but this was a weapon. A weapon that took the fight to Hitler’s doorstep. 
It really did look like a fortress.
Ruth reached up and trailed her fingers along its yellow nose paint, the metal rivets cool from the chilly English air as she followed John to the small hatch just in front of the right wing. Before he could stick his head into the hatch, a small boy’s face appeared sideways out the hole. 
“Boo!” 
Both the adults jumped, Ruth more so than Bucky, and the man jokingly groaned. “Billy! I thought Lemmons was supposed to be keeping you out of trouble?”
“Did I scare you, Major?”
John raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you think?”
“Yes,” he giggled as another boy stuck his head out the hole.
Sammy.
“Whatcha think, Ruthie?” Bucky looked over at her with his hands on his hips. “They get me?”
She grimaced playfully and nodded. “He about jumped out of his boots, boys.”
They shared a shocked look, then broke out into cheers, their faces disappearing from the hatch. “Lemmons! We got him! We finally got him!”
 “They’ve been trying to scare me for weeks,” he explained, a fond grin tugging at his lips. “Finally got me.”
Before Ruth could respond, a pair of feet dangled from the hatch, and John helped each of the boys to the ground, setting them down in front of the couple. They went running off toward the tail, and then a few seconds later, a ground crewman hopped out of the hatch, his dark curls peeking out from under his beanie.
“So they finally got ya, huh, Bucky?” he asked.
“Looks like it,” he replied.
Ken’s eyes fell to Ruth beside John and he smiled, wiping his oily hands on a rag. “You must be Ruth! I’ve heard a lot about you.” He held out a hand, “I’m Ken Lemmons, but you can call me Kenny. I’m one of the ground crew chiefs.”
“Nice to meet you, Kenny. I hope you’ve heard good things,” Ruth answered, cheeks flushing at the notion that John had talked about her. She glanced up at him with narrowed eyes before shaking Ken’s hand. “There’s no telling what this one’s said.”
“Don’t worry,” Lemmons chuckled. “Only good things. I promise.”
Giggles sounded from the back of the plane, and Ruth leaned to see them, her gaze instantly drawn to the boys. Following her eyes, Ken called them over. “Come here! The Major’s got someone he wants y’all to meet!”
They bounded over, just noticing her presence even though she had spoken to them minutes before. 
John grinned and wrapped an arm around Ruth's shoulders as he introduced her to the boys. "Boys, this is Ruth. She's my girl."
The boys' eyes widened in disbelief, and Billy blurted out, "No way! You're way too pretty!"
Ruth busted out laughing at their innocence. "Ohhh, he’s not so bad once you get past the mustache…and the jacket…and the bad jokes…and-"
“Alright, alright. We get your point,” he groaned, pretending to be offended by dramatically clutching his heart. "Way to kick a man when he’s down. Besides, that’s a lie about the mustache."
She shrugged and ignored his question. “Nice to meet you, boys.”
They exchanged mischievous grins, clearly enjoying the banter. "Miss Ruth," Sammy said, using his hand to hide his words from John. "You’re way out of his league."
John still heard the comment and raised an eyebrow, playing along. "You think so? Well, I guess I'll just have to keep her around to make me look good."
Ruth nudged him playfully. "Smooth recovery, Major."
The boys shared another toothy and excited glance before launching into a barrage of questions. “Do you live on base? Are you a nurse? Do you fly planes? Have you ever shot down a Jerry plane?”
Ruth laughed at their enthusiasm, sparing John a blissful look as she felt almost at home in the kids' presence. “I’m a flight nurse, and no, I don’t live at Thorpe Abbotts. I fly in planes but leave the actual flying to the pilots. I just take care of my patients and leave the rest to them.”
Billy and Sammy listened intently, hanging on her every word. “Do you ever see any action?” Billy asked.
Ruth hesitated, the day’s events flashing in her mind, but a warm, reassuring hand on her back brought her back to the present. “Sometimes,” she replied carefully. “But most of the time, my friend Hope and I are too busy taking care of the wounded soldiers and getting them safely back home to notice.”
“Wow,” they marveled.
“So what do y’all do around here?”
Out of the blue, Sammy grabbed Ruth’s hand, tugging her from the men. “Come on, Miss Ruth! We have to show you the plane!”
“Yeah, you gotta see the tail gun up close!” Billy added eagerly, his toothy grin stretching ear to ear. “And the ball turret!”
Ruth glanced back at John before allowing herself to be led away by the boys. As he watched them go, he shook his head at how Ruth affected everyone she met…she was captivating.
Ken and Johnny began conversing about the Muggs’ repairs from the previous day, but the Major’s attention kept drifting back to Ruth. After the boys gave her a plane tour, the trio moved to a grassy patch nearby, plopping onto the ground with Ruth sandwiched between the two boys. They continued their animated conversation, and their laughter filled the air as she told a story of a soldier who got airsick and threw up on her shoes. 
As he watched them, a thought crossed John Egan’s mind. A thought so unexpected that it caught him off guard.
She’d make a great mom.
The realization startled him. He’d never entertained thoughts of a future like that before, never met a woman who made him long to settle down and raise a family. But there he was, watching Ruth with Billy and Sammy, and the idea didn’t seem as far-fetched as before.
Ken noticed Bucky’s distraction and nudged him gently. “She’s great with ‘em.”
“She is,” he breathed, grinning as the boys broke into another fit of giggles across the hard stand. “Ruth was a teacher before she became a nurse.”
“A teacher?”
“Yeah.”
Lemmons nodded. “Makes sense. What age?”
“Junior high.”
“Well, that’s how she can handle you, then,” Kenny laughed. “She’s used to wranglin’ 13-year-olds all day!”
John threw an arm over the younger man’s shoulders, jostling him lightly. “You know, you’re probably right,” he cackled, his eyebrows raised. “You’re wise beyond your years. Sometimes I forget you’re still a squirt yourself.”
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Once Billy and Sammy had to go home for supper, the couple drove back to the Officer’s Hut to catch up with Gale and Hope. Later that evening, Hugh arrived with food for the two couples, Meatball following at his heels. The large husky made a beeline for Hope, greeting her at the side of the bed. 
“Hey, Meatball,” Hope mumbled, leaning as far as she could to ruffle the dog’s fur. Meatball groaned when she began scratching his ear, and he closed his eyes and tilted his head, expressing his enjoyment. “Who's a good boy?” Meatball hopped up on the bed, snuggling into Hope’s side. 
“You can keep him if you want. The damn thing keeps howling. It’s driving me insane,” Hugh complained, passing Hope a bowl of steaming soup. “When Demarco gets back, I’m giving him a piece of my mind, leaving me to watch his dog all afternoon.” 
Hope accepted the soup gratefully but could only manage a few mouthfuls until the wave of nausea washed over her once more, and she placed the bowl down. 
“Ugh, I feel so sick.” 
Gale was at her side in an instant, his hand resting on the small of her back as she bent over, head in her hands. Ruth looked anxiously at John from their seats on his bed and started to put down her bowl to help when Hope spoke up.
 “It’s okay, Gale, it’s just the morphine,” she reassured him, squeezing his hand, to which he pressed his lips to her shoulder blade. 
Hugh snickered, “He didn’t get you pregnant while I was away, did he?” 
“With us in here? Sounds like a nightmare,” John retorted, rolling his eyes at the same time Ruth grimaced from beside him. She knew a signature Hope Armstrong comeback was incoming.
Hope glared at her brother, ”The fact that you have so little knowledge on pregnancy concerns me for your future wife.” 
Hugh stuck his tongue out in response, “That’s not a no, though.” 
 The pillow from Gale’s bed was a near miss as it sailed past Hugh’s head, and he dodged it dramatically, glaring at his sister.
“Come on, with all the ‘Dear John’ letters Sparky gets, I’d be surprised if he ever settles down,” John joined in. 
“Look who’s talking, Bucky,” Hugh retorted, pointing at Ruth with his spoon. “At least I got letters. You didn’t get a single one before Ruth came along.”
“Really?” Ruth asked quietly, surprise etched on her face.
The Major nodded with pursed lips, pushing the vegetables around his bowl before looking over at her with a small smile. “There was no one worth writing to.”
The blonde’s cheeks heated at his words, and she got caught in his gaze.
From their position across the room, Gale and Hope watched the interaction with fond smiles, both happy to see their friends with someone who so clearly adored them. The moment was interrupted when Hugh burst out laughing. 
“Well, that didn’t stop you from-”
He was cut off when a pillow came sailing into the side of his face, knocking some of his soup onto his pants as the pillow fell to the bed. Hugh’s gaze flicked towards the cot the projectile came from, ready to yell at Hope, but he wasn’t expecting to see her wide eyes as she stared up at Buck in awe.
“Sorry, Charlie,” he shrugged. “It just slipped.” 
Ruth and Hope broke into chuckles, but John just sent Gale a thankful glance. Bucky then turned his attention to Hugh, and the two pilots glared at each other. John was frustrated about the cheap, low-blow comment, and Hugh was still clearly sour over the best man situation. They soon gave up and went back to their soup. John’s mind, however, got stuck on Hugh’s words.
Once they’d finished their supper, a knock sounded at the door. “Everyone decent in there? Girls?”
Frank.
“Uh, yeah,” John called, lifting an eyebrow at Ruth.
The door swung open, and the Captain walked in with his lips in a straight line. “Thought you two’d be in here,” he nodded before turning to Hope. “How’s the leg?”
“I’m okay. Still hurts like a bitch, though.”
“Did you get it checked?”
Her face shifted into a grimace at the question. “I took care of it.”
“You, Hope Armstrong,” he sighed. “Are the reason I drink.”
“You know you love us,” Ruth added, tilting her head with a grin.
Frank’s attention drifted to Ruth’s figure beside John. “And how are you, Ruthie?”
The blonde looked up at John, thinking of how he’d taken care of her throughout the day. “Better now.”
“Alright, enough of the lovey eyes, you two,” he called out to them, taking a deep breath and placing his hands on his hips. “The Angel’s out of commission, and the Grove can’t send anyone tonight with the blackout, so we’re stuck here for the night.”
Both couples perked up at the news, but Hugh just groaned.
“As much as I wish I could make you stay with the Red Cross girls, I know I can’t. So you two,” Frank pointed at Gale and John. “No funny business, okay? None.”
Johnny’s mouth twitched, almost quirking into a smirk, but he was able to hold it in as Buck replied with a “Yes sir.” 
“Zero funny business,” Bucky fake saluted from his bunk.
Running a hand down his tired face, Frank scratched his mustache. “Hugh, I’m counting on you to keep an eye on them.”
“Trust me, I will.”
“Alright. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
The door closed behind him with a slam, and they all visibly relaxed. Hope moved to shuffle back onto the bed beside Gale, the wave of nausea having passed when the door flew open again. 
A cool breeze filled the hut as five men strolled into the hut, apparently oblivious of the girls until the one at the front of the column spoke up. 
“Would you look at that? Major ‘no girls in the hut’ Cleven has a girl on his bed,” he pointed at Hope before the man behind him tapped his shoulder, causing him to turn and notice Ruth. “And Egan, too. Shit, I’m surprised Charlie hasn’t joined in.” 
Gale sighed, standing up and placing his hand on Hope’s shoulder, “Hope, Ruth, these are the boys.” Buck took a breath to introduce them, but John beat him to it. 
“DEMARCOO!!” John hollered, causing Gale to groan at his friend’s childish antics. 
The man at the front just smiled. 
“Egan,” he greeted him before motioning towards Ruth, “How did you manage to snag yourself such an attractive broad?” 
Ruth’s cheeks flushed under the other man’s gaze but John just chuckled beside her, “Must be my endless charm.” 
“Sure thing, Major,” Demarco snorted, his voice lowering to a whisper as he glanced down at Ruth. “Blink twice if you need help.” 
With a shove from John, Benny laughed and turned his attention back to Hope and Gale while Bubbles moved over to greet Ruth.
“Hi again,” Bubbles waved at the blonde with a kind smile. “Glad to see you’re feelin’ better, ma’am.”
Ruth nodded from where she was tucked into John’s side. “Me too. And call me Ruth, please.”
“Oh, your bike’s outside, by the way,” Bubbles added, looking over at Bucky and pointing toward the door. A smirk appeared on the lieutenant’s face as he stepped closer to the couple with a hushed tone. “Kidd was, uh, not amused, to say the least.”
“Like I said, he’ll get over it,” John remarked, glancing over Bubbles’ shoulder at the Major in question who was conversing with Bill quietly. “Looks like he’s over it now. Jack!” 
“Wait-” Bubbles tried to stop him, but it was too late.
“Thanks for letting me borrow your jeep today.”
Jack scoffed bitterly and sent Johnny a sharp glare. “When you stole my jeep, you mean.”
“Come on, Jack,” John groaned. “I left you my bike.”
“A bike and a jeep are nowhere near the same thing,” Kidd argued, shaking his head with a sigh as his gaze fell on Ruth. “I know today was rough, and I’m glad you two are okay. I saw your skytrain, and you’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
Ruth felt the familiar lump of anxiety growing in her throat, and she cleared it quietly, keeping her voice steady. “Thanks.”
“Just don’t do it again, Bucky,” Jack nodded.
“No promises.”
Kidd’s gaze shifted to Ruth with his brows drawn together. “How do you deal with him?”
“I have no idea,” she answered tightly, the anxiety still working its way up her throat. John inspected her face, noticing the way her eyes darted around the room.
“It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?” he asked, meeting her anxious gaze.
Ruth nodded as Bucky waved bye at Jack and ushered her out the door. When the pair exited the hut, they were met by a beautiful sight. The sun was setting over the base and vibrant colors painted the sky above the runways. Silhouettes of B-17s lined the horizon, and the distant rumble of engines, with the occasional chatter of ground crewmen, filled the air. 
Ruth took a deep breath and crossed her arms over herself, the warm sunlight on her face helping to calm her racing heart. 
“Sorry, I know that was a lot of people,” he said quietly. 
“It’s not that. Today’s been a lot,” Ruth sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears as she continued to stare out at the English countryside. “I just needed a second.”
They both silently watched the sun slowly disappear behind fields of wheat as far as the eye could see, each of their minds stuck on the day.
As Johnny stood beside her with his hands on his hips, Hugh’s comment about his past replayed in his head. Before he met Ruth, everyone knew he wasn’t particular about who he spent his nights with or where he spent them, and these women didn’t seem to mind either. But all that changed when Ruth walked into his life. 
Despite his pickup lines and physical affection, John wanted to make sure Ruth knew she wasn’t just another of his “floozies” as Hope called them. She had to know that he felt something deeper beyond physical attraction, something real for her...as real as he’d ever felt. 
Mustering up his courage, John took a deep breath and broke the silence of the quiet sunset. 
“About what Hugh said earlier, or started to say,” Ruth turned to him. “It’s no secret I’ve been around,” he confessed, his eyes falling to the ground. “I’ve been with women-”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted, placing a hand on his arm.
“Yeah, I do,” he urged, moving a hand over hers. “I’ve done things I’m not too proud of. But I’ve been trying to do better…”
John acted like he wanted to say more, but stopped when a conflicted expression appeared on his face. Sensing his apprehension, Ruth squeezed his arm reassuringly. 
After a moment, he decided to keep going, his voice laced with nervousness. “You make me want to be better. You make me feel…something…everything. The other girls were…I don’t know. Distractions, maybe? Something to keep my mind off of what goes on up there.”
As Ruth watched him pour out his closely guarded heart, she saw a glimpse of a man who wasn’t as secure and confident as it seemed. She saw a man who longed to be held, taken care of, and loved but was unsure how to go about it.
“But I like this,” John gestured between them. “I like us…a lot. Today made me realize just how much. And I-I don’t want to mess this up.”
Biting her lip gently, she stepped closer, reducing the already small gap between them. “I like us, too. I meant what I said in my letter, you know. About you not being rid of me.”
“I meant what I said, too,” he replied softly, tilting his head towards her as he gently placed his hands on her hips. “You’re a unicorn, doll. One in a million, one of a kind…however you wanna say it.”
Ruth’s hands slid up John’s chest and looped around his neck, her lips slowly curving into a small grin despite the burning sensation within her stomach. “Yeah?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” John nodded as a line appeared between his brows. “I wanna do this right, and I’ve never-,” he paused, inhaling deeply. “I’ve never done this before…you know? Gone steady. But I care about you. So damn much. And I want that with you.”
“I want it too.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, the setting sun casting a golden hue on John’s face as he held her in his arms. 
“Good,” he finally sighed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled down at her. “Cause I didn’t have a plan B if you rejected me.”
Ruth chuckled under her breath and shook her head. “I could never reject you. I’ve been letting you kiss me for almost a month now, remember.”
“Well, you’d be surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
She rolled her eyes, meeting his gaze again to find him searching her face for some answer to a silent question.
“So…what happens now?”
“Well,” Ruth whispered, her eyes flicking to his lips. “I was expecting you to kiss me, Major, but-”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he quickly replied, tugging her flush against him and landing his lips on hers. It was a gentle kiss that confirmed their deep attachment to the other, and their future together.
Pulling away, Ruth answered his question out of breath, her words coming out in shorts pants. “How about we take it slow and see where it goes?”
Shaking his head, John’s hands slid from her waist to her cheeks and gave her another chaste kiss. When he leaned back, he peered down at her blushing face with a wide, toothy grin. “Did you know the unicorn’s my favorite extinct animal?”
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As they settled in for the night, John lounged under his covers with one arm behind his head and stared up at Ruth with a mischievous grin. “Looks like the floor’s all yours, doll,” he said, gesturing to the space beside his cot.
“Oh really?” Ruth arched an eyebrow, feigning deep thought as she glanced around the hut. “I'm sure someone else has some room if you’re kicking me out…”
Without missing a beat, Bucky quickly made room for her on the narrow bed, playfully pulling back the covers and throwing his arm out for her. “Oh wow, would you look at that? A vacancy just opened up.”
She rolled her eyes and accepted his invitation, slipping into the bed beside him, immediately feeling the comforting warmth of his body. John wrapped his arm around her, his touch gentle as he settled her close against him.
“Don’t you dare hog the blankets,” she teased, her voice soft as she nestled against his side, her hand finding its place on his chest.
Bucky squeezed her waist slightly, grinning up at the ceiling. “Don’t you worry about me. I don’t think I’ll have any problem staying warm tonight.”
Beside them, Bill grumbled in response, his voice muffled as he turned away. “Bucky, just shut up and go to sleep. Some of us are flying tomorrow.”
“Night, doll,” John whispered, chuckling under his breath before tenderly kissing Ruth’s hair.
Her eyes became heavy with the day’s exhaustion, and she lazily kissed his shoulder. “Sweet dreams.”
“Oh, they will be if-”
“John! Shut the hell up!” Jack hissed through the darkness.
Finally following their request, Bucky stopped talking and instead focused on how Ruth’s small figure fit perfectly into his bulky one like a missing puzzle piece. He let the steady rise and fall of her chest against him lull him into restful sleep that he’d been lacking since they touched down in Algeria.
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j-u-u-z-o · 1 year
Text
Just Chillin’ (Atsumu x Reader)
Written by me.
Synopsis: Reader is staying over Atsumu’s house after school and they’re both chillin in his bedroom until one move made them needy for each other before they get caught in the middle of the act?
AN: in case you didn’t know, I’m a slut for atsumu and this thought came to mind early in the morning. Hope you enjoy; like/comment or reblog is appreciated! 💕
Warning: high school seniors , minors, grammar, smut, parents are home, lovebirds, caught??
——————————————————————————
After a long and tiring four days, it’s finally Friday. You had taken your midterms and ‘Tsumu had long practices and midterms on top of it. You both didn’t really have time for each other until today.
During class, He asked if you wanted to do something after his practice but you didn’t want to. You wanted time with your boyfriend. So you suggested staying over at his house for a few hours.
After dismissal, You were waiting for Tsumu by the school’s entrance after saying goodbye to your friends. After a few minutes, you heard his loud cocky voice and you turned your head to the source. He’s laughing along with his teammates as he talks about the upcoming game against karasuno.
“Haha…yeah. We’re so gonna win this and then -oh! Y/n-Chan~!” He said and waved at you. You smiled at him. Tsumu walks towards you in his white volleyball sweat suit and his backpack on his left shoulder.
“Hey Tsumu.” You looked up at him and smiled warmly.
“Hey Baby.” He cooed and gave a quick peck on your lips. “Were ya waiting for me?” He asked as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders while admiring your beautiful smile. You nodded and tip-toed to rub the tip of your nose with his.
“Get a room, you lovebirds!” Osamu said in disgust.
“Hey, y/n. Thanks for your review notes for English literature. It helped me a lot.” Suna said.
“Shut up, dumbass ‘Samu!” Atsumu turned his at his twin brother. You giggled at the twins and held Atsumu’s hand to signal to stop bickering with him. “Let’s go, Tsumu.”
“See ya guys tomorrow!!” He shouted and waved to his teammates. Osamu decided to go to Suna’s place to study for his upcoming exam and you and atsumu started walking together to his house.
Of course, the walk home took forever because Atsumu’s kept kissing you in every corner with every chance he got. It was getting annoying but you didn’t complain, nevertheless. Finally, the two of you have made it to the front door of his house and atsumu unlocked it.
“Tadaima.” He said while taking of his shoes and you did the same.
Ah! Okaeri, Atsumu! Oh - and y/n~!” His mom said happily in her apron. “Osamu?”
“He’s stayin’ at Suna’s house to study and will eat dinner late, ma.”
“ I see. Well I’m preparing dinner now so you two can hang out together for a while, okay? Make yourself at home, y/n!” She smiled at you and walked back to the kitchen.
“Yes, Mrs. Miya and thank you. Let me know if you’d like me to hel-“ you were cut off when atsumu took your hand and walked up the stairs.
“I thought ya wanted to chill with me, baby.” He said walking up stairs. “We haven’t seen each other since Monday and that was before exams started.” He opened his bedroom door.
“Sorry, Tsumu. She’s so nice I can’t help it.” You giggled as you watched him fall on his back on the bed - feet still on the floor. “You should be more nice to your mother. Especially when there’s guests in the house.” You said and walked to get a game controller and turned on his PlayStation.
“I guess…” he said offhandedly as he took his phone out and unlocked it. Reading his notifications. You shook your head and focused on what game you want to play.
Assassins Creed or God of War? you held the two games up and decided on playing the former. You walked to astumu and leaned to quickly kiss him on the lips before turning your back to the TV.
Both of your knees lay on each side of his legs on the bed as you sat in his lap. You pressed X to “continue playing.”
The sounds of clashing and screaming fills the unlit room. He’s scrolling through his tik tok watching volleyball videos. Once in a while you hear him snort at something he watched and his lower body moved abit.
“Oh my god. I gotta show them this video before practice.” He said to himself while laughing. Once in a while, atsumu looks over his phone to check on you by caressing the back of your calf. You give a small “mmm” to let him know that you’re okay and then he looks back down at his phone.
Minutes have passed and you both start to smell food that has just started cooking. But you don’t say anything. Atsumu spreads his legs a little more so that he won’t get a cramp; but to also not lose the feeling of your warm weight above him.
“What time is it, Tsumu?”
“Mm..’is almost 6pm. Ya wanna snack?” He said as he raised himself and laid his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your waist and looked at the tv screen. “Not really, I thought I lost track of time even though it’s been like 30 minutes or something.” You shrugged and leaned back against his chest.
“Alrighty then.” He sighed and kissed your neck after pulling your collar down. “Don’t forget ta Press O and X to shoot and run at the same time,babe. Running away ain’t gonna help ya.” He said as he looked up at the screen again. You giggled “wanna help me, Tsumu?”
“Nah. Ya on your own. I know ya can do it, babe.” He chuckled. However, when you’re struggling to survive in the game you bounced on him in annoyance.
He gasped at the feeling. One arm is wrapped around your waist and his other hand moved down under your skirt - to lay it on your inner thigh. His hand is so warm that you spread your knees wider to feel more of his touch. But you didn’t think much of it.
“I need to look for more knives and a spot to hide.” You mumbled to yourself.
Atsumu moved his hand down in your thigh- Close to your panties and caresses it. You looked down at the action that’s happening under your uniform skirt and turned your head to him. “Tsumu? What are you doing?” You asked. “Jus’ wanna feel ya, is all.” He said looking at you with slight smirk. “I missed you so much.” He ended with a pout.
“I’m right here.” You snorted as you turned your head back to the game. Atsumu hummed in agreement and kissed your right cheek.
A few more minutes passed and the level of the game gets harder that you didn’t realize that your body is leaning a bit forward - your lower body grounding itself on your boyfriend. His member, that is.
You felt his fingers brush lightly against your covered area. The feeling was distracting you from the sudden ambush in the game. So you leaned forward more to slightly lift yourself from the gentle touch.
Atsumu smirked when he looked up at you. He knows you’re trying to evade him. He Lightly chuckled as the fact that you’re Pretending that you don’t like it. But that doesn’t stop his fingertips from rubbing against your covered pussy no matter how much you try to push yourself away.
“Tsumu, stop”. You said softly. You’re being mindful about his Mom for crying out loud! Plus she’s making dinner. But it’s been a while since you’ve been close to him. So…to play “devils advocate”, You used this opportunity to grind on his clothed member. Slowly with good measure while battling a random beast in the forest.
Atsumu leaned back a bit as he looks at you - watching you grind on him from the back. “Babe…” He breathed. Mesmerized by you grinding on him.
“Shut up. You started this, tsumu.” You retort and blushed.
You can’t see his face but he’s biting his lip as he’s looks at the side of your face. “But I got a better idea, babe.” He whispered close to your ear. His hot breathe made clench -on nothing- but you’re low key curious about what he’s thinking about.
He slowly pushes your panty aside and starts to rub your clit in circles. The feeling of his fingertips feels rough but the friction feels so good as you’re starting to get wet. Still sitting on his lap in reverse - laying both knees on each side of his legs, jut your hips forward to grind on his fingertips.
“Mm…” you bit your lip when you clenched again at the sensation. Pausing the game, “Tsumu, put it in.” You said impatiently. He pulled out his cock and rubbed it between your wet lips and then aligned himself in your entrance. You slowly lowered yourself as his girth slid inside you easily thanks to your arousal.
You heard Atsumu mouth a heavy breath against your ear and felt him place his hands on your upper thighs as you began to grind on him and went back to the game. “Oh fuck, baby” he moaned and laid his forehead on your shoulder.
You mouth shaped an “o” when you felt him throb inside you as you played the game. His big hands gripped and caressed your inner thighs mimicking how his cock feels inside of you before he kissed your neck lovingly.
“Unh…Tsumu.” You moaned. You love it when he feels you up. Touching and caresses you in a perfect rhythm.
“Mmm..”he hummed in response. Too focused on your hips grinding in circles and your pussy clenching him every time. He moves one of his hands down to rub your clit with his fingertips to reward you.
This time, you lift yourself and dropped. he moaned a “Ohh..!” a bit loudly and moved his hands on your hips to keep you in place. “Ohh fuck.” He hissed and picked up the remote to raise the volume. You smiled at the tv screen on purpose. “Mmm…just like that, baby.” Atsumu groaned as you kept moving in circles- jutting your hips forward every time the veins on his cock rubbed against your clit.
The bed bounced as you topped him in reverse and Atsumu’s hands never left your hips to anchor you. Especially when he scooted off the edge of his bed a little to thrust deeply into you. You yelped at a particularly hard thrust that you almost dropped the game controller. “Tsumu..!” You whispered to him loudly.
“Mmmm…?” He said while bucking up against you deeply. You weren’t sure if that was an answer or a moan as you were distracted by his long strokes. You wanted to protest but the sensation and the pace was too much.
You forgot about the game as You were breathless each time he hit that spot and the bouncing of your breasts inside your buttoned down shirt made you feel hot. Especially his grip on your hips which will definitely leave marks on you.
You try to call his name offhandedly due to the bouncing. “Tsu-!”
“Atsumu? Y/n? You two are okay?” His mother said. The two of you snapped your heads to the door as she tried to turn the bedroom knob.
It’s locked.
“Yeah we’re good. We’re jus’ playing my video game.”
“Oh. Y/n? Do you need anything? A snack or water?”
“Ah..erm..n-no thank you, Mrs. Miya” you managed to say. Still breathless -in disguise- as you’re currently getting bottomed out by Atsumu who doesn’t know when to stop. Especially right now.
“Okay. Well dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes.” She said softly and walked downstairs.
“A-atsumu!” You said breathlessly as he puts both hands under your knees and lays on his back and started thrusting slowly and deeply. He grinds in circles; Focused on the feeling of your tight walls and pussy taking him so well. You winced at the feeling of your sore legs but eventually relieved now that it’s raised after laying them on the bed for a long time.
“Ugh…Your pussy feels so good, baby.” He groaned and spreads your legs wider to get deeper into your pussy. You look down at the action. His thighs hitting the back of yours, your ass jiggling each time he’s bucking into you. You can even see the red tip of his cock reappearing each time.
You’re breathing uncontrollably due to his controlled thrusts. Your breasts bouncing in your buttoned shirt that you bit your lip and dropped your head back and closed your eyes. You even dropped the game controller on to the side.
“Rub that clit for me, baby.” He said breathing heavily. You followed and rubbed it in circles as you suddenly whined when you clenched tightly at the sensation. Atsumu responded by changing his pace quickly that you moaned his name, heavily.
He raises his head off the bed and opens his mouth. breathing heavily at the feeling of your pussy clenching him. “That’s it,baby. That’s it.” He whispers knowing that your climax is reaching soon.
“Yeah..yeah.” He breathed. feeling your pussy clench and starts squelching at his thrusts. He raised himself and his hands holds on to your inner thighs as he bucks into you. You turn face to the side a bit to kiss him passionately.
“Tsumu, I’m gonna cum…” you breathed into his mouth.
“We’re almost there, baby” he smiled in the kiss and wraps an around you as the other starts to rub your clit with enough measure. You moved your hands to the sides to grip the sheets.
You hips starts to gyrate and you breathe hastily in his mouth as you reach your climax. “Unh…s-sumu” you moaned as he bucks fast to reach his climax too.
He rubs your clit in circles quickly. “Ugh.! Ah..ah..” You said breathlessly each time in his mouth as you squirted on the bedsheets and on the floor. “That’s my girl.” He praised before he grunted and pulled out.
“Mmm…” he said kissing you deeply while still rubbing your sore clit, softly. He puts his cock back inside and slowly rolls his hips because he just can’t get enough of your warmth. Tongue kissing you and kissing you again passionately.
You broke the kiss and looked at him in the eyes. He looks so pussy drunk. you think to yourself. You giggled at his face as you grinded your throbbing pussy against his fingertips. “Mmm..Tsumu…let’s clean up.”
“Hmm..?” He looking at you expectantly now caressing your spreaded inner thighs.
Your pussy must have taken him to another world or something. You think again. “So…I need to get up now, dummy” you giggled.
His eyes widened. “Ohhh..yeah. We should.” He smiled droopily. You pinched his cheek.
You lift yourself off of his lap and walked -limped- to his dresser to get towels. Atsumu chuckled. “Ya need help with that, baby?” He asked while putting his dick back in his sweat pants.
You rolled your eyes as you threw a towel at his face and slowly bent down to clean up the mess on the floor.
“Atsumu! Y/n! Come downstairs. Dinner is ready!” His mother announced.
The thought of going downstairs worries you because of your sore legs that your face couldn’t hide the pain. What would his mom think caused it? You were playing videos games. You don’t want her to be suspicious.
“You sure about that baby?” Atsumu asked as he looked at you while he pulling the bedsheet from his bed.
“Shut up, Tsumu!” You pouted and threw the wet towel but you missed.
Atsumu chuckled. “Ha! You missed.” He sticked his tongue out.
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