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hannie-dul-set · 7 months

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THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF.

p — CHOI BEOMGYU x gn! reader. g — humor, fluff. w — swearing, beomgyu is embarrassing but that's nothing new with my recent works. 1.6k words.

note — inspired by this post. i'm supposed to be studying rn.

everyone in your department knows that choi beomgyu is not to be trusted.

no, it’s not like he scams people with overpriced products on the university buy and sell forum. he doesn’t give you wrong answers during tests to fuck you over. he isn’t seeing multiple people at once behind their backs like a shitty fuckboy, either.

but when choi beomgyu tells you that there’s a buy one take one promo at the coffee shop near campus, you should probably think twice before rallying your friends over because of your shared coffee addiction. it’s the reason why hueningkai showed up to a department party last month wearing a penguin costume when the theme was business-casual. it’s the reason why choi yeonjun sends a string of curses to the group chat bi-weekly because he’s told that there’s a quiz today, only to arrive at an empty classroom.

it’s all harmless. it’s all fun and games and for a good laugh— but nevertheless, everyone knows to think twice before listening to the honeyed words that fall from choi beomgyu’s mouth. the problem is, the bastard is charismatic and he knows it. “he’s weaponizing his pretty face like a motherfucking gun,” you mentioned to soobin one time. so even if people are ware that he’s slimy little bitch that likes to fuck around a lot, they still listen to what he says. even when in doubt.

well, they’re all fucking stupid.

“hey, let’s compare hand sizes!”

and you refuse to be branded as a gullible idiot, too.

“what?”

the sandwich you’re having for lunch suddenly feels dry on your tongue. “gimme your hand,” he insists, and you narrow your eyes at him. what...what the fuck is this bastard trying to do? “i wanna know whose is bigger.”

now, that’s a familiar line. it almost made your heart flutter when he’s batting his eyes at you so expectantly with that pretty face of his from across the cafeteria table, the fingers of his right palm outstretched and ready to catch yours upon your consent.

almost. but there’s no way in hell you’re humoring his dumb ass.

“sure,” you respond. and, after wiping your lips with a napkin, offer out your open palm for him in the air.

his face brightens— a tiny smile pulling at his lips.

beomgyu reaches out for your hand. before he can press his palms against yours, you quickly fold it into a middle finger.

it’s almost funny how his expression quickly tumbles into despair.

“eat shit, motherfucker.”

you clean up your tray and leave your dumbfounded friend behind. you have no idea what his intentions with that was, but you aren’t risking making a fool out of yourself at the suggestion that beomgyu might be trying to (pathetically) hit on you. he’s probably just concocting some more mischief— especially since you’re one of the people he has yet to victimize with his dumb jokes.

so you’re not surprised when he makes another attempt. but what you don’t understand is why he keeps trying to hold your hand.

“booooring. this class is so boring.”

he’s sitting next to you inside the lecture hall. so far, not that out of the ordinary. you do your best to catch up with your professor’s discussion, but from the corner of your eyes you see beomgyu finally giving up and melting his head into the desk, burying his face into his arms. “this sucks,” he muffles, before craning his head and you can feel him staring at you from below. “aren’t you bored?”

“i’m trying to pay attention, beomgyu.”

“pay attention to me,” he whines. “i’m bored. let me scribble on your hand to pass—”

“please shut the fuck up.”

at some point, it’s starting to confuse you more than annoy you. all signs lead to a boy simply trying to get the attention of his crush, but this is choi beomgyu you’re talking about. you just can’t trust him. not even when he always tries to follow you around in the hallways. not even when he drops a warm latte at your desk every 7AM class.

“i know how to do palm reading. do you wanna—”

“i’m not superstitious,” you immediately put up your shield to his spear. “thanks for the coffee.”

you really don’t understand him.

“there was a hit and run incident yesterday. you should hold onto me just to be—”

“red light. let’s go.”

you seriously don’t fucking get him.

“aaaah! i’m falling! grab my hand, i’m falling to my death!”

what the hell is he trying to do?!

“beomgyu, it’s a four-foot deep pool,” you deadpan, face flushed and it’s definitely not just from the heat of the sun. he perishes into the water with a splash. my god, what’s going on with him? you shake your head, trying to ward off an incoming headache.

really. if this wasn’t beomgyu doing this shit, you’d be a hundred-percent convinced that he’s trying to make a move on you. that he likes you and is trying his stupidest to catch your attention. but it is beomgyu, and everyone knows he can’t be trusted unless you want to be laughed at. being this week’s joke isn’t on your bucket list. so no matter how many more attempts he’s going to make, you will be impenetrable. you will not be fooled.

“hey.”

that is until he shows up all serious in front of your classroom the next week.

students are pouring out from the door, and you’re a heavy obstacle from their rush to go home because for some reason, choi beomgyu is there— also obstructing the traffic flow in the hallway.

“what is it now?” you cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at the worryingly large bouquet he has in his arms. “are your hands cold? do you want me to hold them to keep you warm?”

“that would be nice,” he replies. you seriously want to hit him. “but, no. that’s not what i’m here for. i decided that it might be best to stop asking for your hand because you might actually punch me this time.” this is a public area, you’d like to remind him. and that dangerously constructed statement of his is eliciting murmurs from the passersby surrounding you. you feel your face flush.

“if you phrase it like that, people are going to get the wrong idea.”

“let them misunderstand, i don’t really care,” he shrugs. “what i care about is clearing up the misunderstanding between you and me. i don’t think we’ve been on the same page for the past few weeks.”

you furrow your brows. “what are you getting at?”

“taehyun told me that you think i’ve just been fucking around with you,” he says. “and i have to admit that i definitely have nothing to blame but myself and my reputation. but i want to tell you that i have been seriously, seriously serious about you.”

“sure,” you snort. “i definitely trust you, beomgyu.”

he frowns. “dammit, taehyun was right. you really don’t trust me.”

what did he expect? for the past year and a half that you’ve known him, he’s been nothing but unserious and troublesome. beomgyu brings mischief wherever he goes and you don’t want to make a misstep and be caught in that shitstorm— not even when your heart is racing a little too fast for comfort at the moment. not even when those flowers actually look really pretty.

“but i expected this. i’ve come prepared,” beomgyu tells you. what is it this time? you exhale. had he been normal, you might’ve trusted him at his first attempt to shoot his shot with you. “i’ve come to the conclusion that in order to get your trust, i need to stop messing around with everyone. and that begins with being completely, absolutely, unapologetically honest.”

again, this is a public area. people are staring and you’re starting to get a bad feeling.

“i’m in love with you.”

holy shit.

“i’ve been in love with you ever since taehyun introduced us to each other, i think.”

there’s fire somewhere.

“that was over a year ago!”

that somewhere is your face.

“yeah, and?” he raises a brow. “that means i’ve liked you for over a year. i can do the math. i’m not stupid.” you want to throw yourself into a ditch and die.

“beomgyu, tell me you’re kidding.” not even your hands can fan out the inferno overtaking your face right now. somehow, there’s a lot more people around you than you remember, and while you’re suffering from a sudden onslaught of unprovoked feelings, beomgyu looks relatively unfazed. “you can’t be serious. if you’ve liked me for that long, then why haven’t you done anything until recently?!”

“funny story,” he starts. there is nothing funny about this at all. “i didn’t think i had a chance until soobin hyung told me you thought i was pretty the other week.”

soobin, that fucking rat.

the context wasn’t even a positive one! you said he was using his pretty face for evil!

“i—”

like what he’s doing now.

the words get stuck in your throat when you notice that beomgyu actually looks earnest. he’s not smiling or laughing— but patiently waiting for you to say something in response. your mouth is dry. your ribcage is shaking. it doesn’t fucking help that there’s three dozen people watching the scene unfold. couldn’t he have chosen a more appropriate place to pour his fucking heart out?

“you know what, let’s go.”

it’s an act of impulse. you quickly grab him by the hand and lead him away from the crowded hallway with hurried steps. “damn,” he says, trailing from behind you. “i didn’t have to try and convince you this time.”

what’s ironic is that this is the most honest you’ve ever felt of him. his palms are clammy and slipping through your fingers. he’s making jokes, but his desperate squeeze is telling you more than what he’s actually saying. “everyone knows to think twice before listening to me. but everyone also now knows that i’m pretty much in love with you, so that’s a win for me.”

THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#allex stop writing pathetic men challenge: failed #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt beomgyu x reader #tomorrow x together x you #txt x you #choi beomgyu x you #beomgyu x you #tomorrow x together imagines #txt imagines #choi beomgyu imagines #beomgyu imagines #tomorrow x together scenarios #txt scenarios #choi beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu scenarios

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astermath · 11 months

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sweet like you🍓

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen stumbles across a local farmer’s market on accident and discovers a family run strawberry stand. he discovers that not only the strawberries are delicious and sweet, but so is the girl selling them to him.

word count: 2.1K

notes: yk what’s really funny,, i never realised so far a lot of my fics involve the color red. perhaps it’s becoming my new favorite color and I love to make it obvious dsgdfsj,, anyways first time writing for carmen, been obsessed w him since the bear came out. i’m a whore for jeremy allen white in case you haven’t noticed. anyways this will def get a part two!!

P.S. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, requests are open!

Saturday was farmer’s market day.

Every Saturday morning, dozens of independent businesses, farmers and food stands would come together at Lincoln Park to sell their wares. It made for a colorful and interesting blend of smells, sounds and sights, and for most, a great way to start off their weekend.

And Carmen was no exception to this. He’d first stumbled upon it by accident on his way to the Beef. Taking a wrong turn because of his still waking morning head resulted in him walking through the park and, unavoidably, being distracted by what vendors there were. A chef at heart, he couldn’t help but look around the wide array of fresh ingredients available for purchase. He’d taken out his notebook and started writing down business names as he tried a sample every now and then.

He held a bag of fresh paprikas in one hand, making his way down the line before he came across a peculiar and seemingly very busy stand. The fresh, sweet scent of strawberries allured him, stepping closer to take a look at what they had to offer. And it was exactly that, just strawberries. It appeared to be a family business, your mother and father packing orders, and you at the front taking them and accepting payments. For a second he just kind of stood there, bag in hand, staring at you. There was no way you were from here, Chicago doesn’t let a smile like that survive very long. Or maybe that was just his cynical mind doing its usual thing.

He snapped out of it when you glanced his way, looking to the side. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, embarrassed that just looking at a pretty girl got such a reaction from him. He’s a collected person, he should be acting like one. He took a deep breath and got in line. Lord knows what he’d be using strawberries for, he’d figure something out, might as well just eat them as a snack while the season allowed it.

“Hi! How many?” Your voice was sweet and chipper, something he couldn’t even think of being after taking orders all morning. Somehow, you kept it up.

“Oh, uh...” He looked at your display, before remembering that all you sold were strawberries, so browsing just made him look even more stupid. “How many... Strawberries?”

“Boxes. They’re 500 grams, 5 bucks each. So how many?” Your smile remained the same, though you were slightly amused by his confusion.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He could have sank into the ground right then and there. Of course you meant boxes, who in their right mind is buying individual strawberries? “Uh... Just one box is fine, please.” He reached for his wallet while you took over a box from your mom.

“Great! That’ll be 5 dollars please.” You took the slightly crumpled bill from his hand, storing it in the tin box in front of you and quickly writing down something on a paper. Seemed like you still did everything by hand, he couldn’t imagine what a mess it would be if he had to do that at the restaurant.

“Here you go, have a great day!” The box you gave him was neatly wrapped in brown paper, with a sticker serving as a business card on top.

“Uh...” He stared at the sticker, reading over it before looking back up at you.

Ask for her name.

“Yeah...”

Her name.

“You too.”

You idiot.

He picked up the box and walked away, walking a little faster than usual. He was never good at talking to people, but god, that was just embarrassing. He opened up the packaging, and took out a perfectly plump strawberry. He took a bite, humming as the juicy sweetness washed over his tastebuds.

Lunch rush had just ended, and Carmen was sat outside the back of the restaurant with Richie, smoking as per usual. Except now, a small cardboard box sat between them. It was almost empty as the two of them snacked on the fruit between puffs of their cigarettes.

“Ya know, I read somewhere on Facebook that these are supposed to help with uh... Cancer or something.” Richie said, throwing the green leafy part back into the box.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, cousin.” Carmy smiled to himself, back leaned against the wall as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, why’s that huh? Cause I can’t read shit online anymore without having to do an hour of research behind it?” Richie furrowed his brows, blowing smoke out his nose.

“No, stupid,” Carmen put the cigarette out on the concrete. “Cause you’re fuckin’ smoking, man. The fuck is a strawberry gonna do against that.”

“Yeah, well... I try to stay positive, you should fucking try it sometime, ya depressed asshole.” He grabbed another strawberry. “Where d’you get these from anyways? Shit’s pretty good.”

The image of you working at the stand flashed through his mind. “Passed by some random farmer’s market this morning. Might stop by there again, got a ton of fresh produce there for not much money.”

“Speakin’ of produce.” Richie used his thumb to point back over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Place’s out of onions. Your magical farmer’s market got those? Cause we need more by the dinner shift.”

Carmen groaned, wanting to curse at Richie for not letting him know earlier. But honestly, if it gave him a chance to go back, get more delicious strawberries and possibly redeem his awkward first impression to the pretty girl there... It might not be a bad idea. He checked the time on his watch, early afternoon, you’d probably be wrapping up right now. If he was fast, he could totally still make it. “Fine, but I’m taking your car.”

“Don’t crash it.” Richie said as he got up, ready to get back inside.

“You’re the one with a suspended license.” He joked, catching the keys Richie threw at him that were totally not aimed at his head.

“Fuck you cousin.”

Parking was a bitch, as always, but Carmen had managed to find a stall selling onions for about half of what he usually got them for. He was starting to like this market, not just for the prices, but because these were all people who worked hard and loved their products. A lot of work goes into putting something out there to sell, he would know.

He realized he might be pushing his luck if he still wanted to see you, but he decided to take the chance nonetheless and walk down the lineup. It seemed to be his lucky day, as he caught sight of your parents loading up mostly empty boxes back in the car. You were working on breaking down the stand, doing so with relative ease. You were currently folding up the tables, kneeled down onto the ground.

Again, he stared. Honestly, how could he not? It wasn’t every day he saw someone so beautiful, and with a sweet personality to match. Granted his only interaction with you had been brief, but still, he got a good vibe from you, and he was usually so distrustful.

You looked up, and by pure coincidence, your eyes met. His eyes were so intense, hues of blue that anyone would recognize, even from a mile away. You certainly recognized them from this morning at least. Your face brightened with the same smile he saw you had before, and for a second he wondered if it was just a customer service thing.

“Hi! Hope you enjoyed your strawberries!” You got up, holding the folded table under your arm.

“Sure did.” He put on a bit of an awkward smile. God, why was he doing this... What was he even supposed to say?

Your eyes squinted slightly when you read the words on his shirt. “Nice shirt... Oh, wait, you work at the Beef?”

His body tenses up a little when you mention the restaurant. Given its... Peculiar reputation, that question could be followed up by any kind of statement. “Yeah, yeah, I uh... I kinda run it now.” He decided not to mention Mikey. Seemed a bit overkill to mention your dead brother to someone whose name you don’t even know.

“Ohhh, that’s you! Yeah, I’ve seen you smoking outside before.” You extend your hand and you both introduce yourselves. “I work at a café just two blocks over. You might have seen it, it’s called Odette’s?”

Carmy nodded. He knew that place. He also knew the cranky old French lady who owned it. “Ah... Yeah. Menu still the same?”

“As long as Odette is still alive, I doubt she’ll ever let me change anything. ‘Over my dead body, cherie’”. You jokingly imitated her French accent, chuckling to yourself.

Carmen smiled, glad that he’s at least not making a complete fool out of himself now. This was good, he knew this, work and food, those were his safe topics. “Yeah, well... Maybe if she tasted one of these strawberries first, you might convince her.”

“Huh,” You thought to yourself for a second, imagining your usual grumpy boss overflowing with glee after trying the fruit from your family’s farm. “You know what, I’ve never actually thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it out!” You smile. “You know I’ve been meaning to try and serve some of my pastries there. I’m a huge baking fanatic, but she’s so... Set in her ways. I don’t know if my amateur baking skills could possibly convince her, no matter how tasty the strawberries I use are.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like...” Carmen thought about his crew, and how much they loved their so called ‘system’. Change was good, change meant progress, but it was also scary. On that part, he didn’t blame her boss for refusing to switch things up. “If you want, I could help you out. I’m a full time chef, so... Always willing to taste test.” He hoped his poorly masked excuse to stay in touch came across as friendly, and not pushy. He always felt like he was overthinking everything when he was trying to socialize, like he was reading off some type of script. Your chipper personality made things a tad easier, at least.

“Really?” You seem to brighten up even more. Carmen is sure there’s light shining from your face from how excited you look, but he doesn’t mind. It’s amusing, almost... Cute.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Just uh... Let me know when.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course!” You pause, realizing he’s probably expecting you to give him some kind of contact information. Unless he was planning to use telepathic communication. You put down the folded table. “Right, sorry, uh...” You laughed awkwardly and pulled out a pen and an old receipt from your back pocket to scribble your number on, before handing it to him. “There we go!”

Carmen’s eyes went over the number, putting it in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget to save it later. “Cool, cool... So uh, text you later.” He silently cringed at his own words, trying painfully hard to play it cool.

“Yeah, totally!” Your mom called your name, and you look over your shoulder, seeing her gesture to you to hurry up. “Be right there, mama!” You chuckled. “Sorry, duty calls! But yeah, I’ll hear from you. And if I don’t, I know where you work, Berzatto.”

He chuckles slightly at your joking threat. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.” He gives you a curt wave before walking off and letting you go back to work.

He really hoped you didn’t mean that “threat”. He’d rather die than let you see him at the Beef right when they got such a bad hygiene rating.

He was laid down on the couch late at night, watching an episode on the food network about an olive farm in Italy. He wondered if your family’s farm was anything like this one, and remembered he hadn’t even saved your number or texted you yet. Carmen rubbed his sleepy eyes and pulled out his phone, saving your number under a new contact and typing out a few quick texts. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, realized he was overthinking it and fell asleep not long after, the sound of an elderly Italian woman speaking on TV in the background.

[unknown]: hey, it’s carmen

[unknown]: guy from the beef

[unknown]: next thursday work for you?

You groaned in your bed, looking over at your phone and cursing yourself for forgetting to turn off your notifications. “The fuck...” Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen. A sleepy smile adorned your face when you read his name, saving his contact and texting something back quickly before putting the phone away and going back to sleep.

[y/n]: for sure!

[y/n]: let’s do 4:30 PM? café closes at 4 anyways so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves :)))

#aster writes the bear #carmen berzatto #carmenmath #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto fan fiction #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

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4wkjun · 4 months

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12th floor, 1207. | syj

pairing: sohn youngjae × afab!reader

genre: smut with a tiny bit plot, just to have context? minors dni!!

warings: sex inside of an elevator, nipple sucking, fingering (f!receiving), pet names, protected sex!

random note: please tell me what you think! tell me where i can improve :(

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

“thank you!” you smiled as the blonde guy held the elevator doors for you. it was almost six p.m., your feet killing you inside of those awful heels, you couldn’t wait to get home and rest.

you leaned against the elevator wall, closing your eyes as the elevator got up. the elevator stopped abruptly, shaking as if it was about to fall down. you opened your eyes, nervous, only to see the emergency light on.

“what the fuck?” you sighed.

“it must have been a power outage” the guy next to you said, weirdly calm. you looked at him terrified, suddenly nervous to be stuck in the elevator with a neighbor you have never seen before. “it happens quite often around this building, are you new here?”

“what...?”

“you seem a little scared, that’s why i’m asking” the boy explained himself, sitting on the floor.

“and you’re not?!”

the guy chuckled, shaking his head. “i grew up here, it doesn’t amuse me anymore. i’m eric, by the way. i live on the 12th floor.”

“y/n.” you said, still nervous. “8th floor.”

eric nodded, grabbing his phone from his pocket. as expected, there was no service at all as the big numbers showed the time: 18:02. you expected to be out of that damn metal box in five minutes, max.

“your boyfriend’s not gonna like when he finds out his girl is stuck in an elevator with another guy” eric said, your eyes staring at your phone. 19:57. you had no other option but sit down and talk to the guy next to you, which you found out wasn’t that bad. he seemed to have a good sense of humor, making you laugh occasionally.

“i don’t have a boyfriend.”

“girlfriend?”

“nope. it’s just me and my cats.”

eric hummed, looking at you through the weak emergency light. the two of you sat down on the floor, next to each other – because you wore a skirt to work that morning, so you decided it was better to sit next to a stranger than across, letting him see your underwear.

“what?” you asked, looking back at him. eric shook his head, smiling.

“how come no one got you yet?”

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. you playfully slapped his knee and he raised his eyebrows, looking funny at you.

“is that how you flirt?”

“nah, i wouldn’t flirt with you. i’m assuming you work in a office, doing fancy stuff. i’m a bartender, you wouldn’t fall for my crap.”

you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowed. “i’m not that shallow, y’know?” you responded, a little offended.

“oh, yeah? so if you headed to a bar after work, would you let me get you a free drink and walk you home?”

“sure, why not? it can be dangerous to walk drunk alone” you shrugged. eric laughed.

“would you let me kiss you in front of your door?”

“well, not in front of my door, 'cause you would have to pass my doorman...” you laughed. eric rolled his eyes, holding a smile back. “but i guess i would let you kiss me” you said, stopping laughing. your voice faded almost as a whisper, eric’s eyes strong on yours.

“do i have to buy you a drink first?” he asked, slowly leaning in.

maybe because you were tired, maybe because he made you laugh enough to find him charming, or simply because he is charming, you shook your head, whispering a weak “no” before pressing your lips against eric’s.

as his tongue circled your bottom lip, you held back a whimper. it’s been so long since you got on a date, you couldn’t remember when you had any kind of intimacy with another person. his tongue felt smooth against yours, his hands gripping onto your hips and you barely realized he placed them there. your hands found the nape of his neck, your fingers feeling his soft short hair.

realizing you felt uncomfortable in that weird position, eric pulled you in, trying to get you to sit on his lap. you broke apart of his lips, your cheeks bright red even under the dim lights.

“i can’t straddle you, i’m wearing a skirt” you said out of breath, his lips reaching your chin. he hummed, his nose caressing your jawline.

“i’m not gonna look, i promise” he said, his lips kissing the soft skin of your neck. you chuckled, unconsciously leaning your head back for him to have better access to your soft spots. “or we could both undress, if it makes you more comfortable.”

your laugh got stuck inside of your throat as eric sucked the sweet spot right under your jaw, your hands gripping onto his hair.

“fuck it” you moaned, throwing your leg on top of his lap, trying not to let your weight on him. eric chuckled, his hands lowering your body on his.

“that’s my intention” he groaned, his lips softly caressing your skin. you tried to lift yourself again and he laughed, lowering your body again. “you can sit on me, i won’t break.”

“it’s just... i just met you” you said, realization hitting you.

“let me show you what i do best, then” he said, his lips back on yours before you could answer. his hands lowered to your thighs, slowly lifting your social skirt. you found yourself actually sitting on his lap, his cock growing harder underneath you.

“wait, what about the security cameras?”

“it’s a power outage, princess. no one will be able to see you, just me” he whispered, his fingertips reaching your clothed pussy.

you laughed. “you promised you wouldn’t look” you reminded him, playfully. eric laughed, shaking his head.

“and gave you a better suggestion right after, remember?” he said, his left hand tucking your hair behind your ear. “we should both undress, hm?” as his right fingers circled your clit softly, you whimpered, feeling your arousal starting to pool.

while circling your clit slowly, his free hand started to unbutton your blouse. his lips met your collarbone with a hum, your skin burning against his lips.

“you’re not undressing, eric” you said, your eyes trying to stay open as his fingertips found the hem of your underwear, ready to pull them. his lips let go of your skin and he grinned, his left hand caressing your waist beneath the fabric of your blouse.

“would you like me to undress, y/n?” he asked, his tone sending chills to your spine. you nodded, feeling your cheeks hotter.

“it’s not fair.”

“what’s not fair?” eric asked, his right hand still hanging between your pussy and your underwear, waiting for your greenlight to pull them to the side.

“you’re only taking my clothes off.”

your hands found the hem of his t-shirt timidly, waiting for him to say or do something. eric smiled, gently squeezing the flesh of your waist. he leaned in, going straight to your right ear.

“then you better hurry up and take mine as well, before the power goes back and the neighbors catch us like this, hm?” he whispered, his knuckles brushing against your clit again. you whined both at the feeling and the thought of being caught, your hands held his shirt tight, pulling it before you could think straight.

eric let go of you to help you pull his shirt off, your jaw almost dropping by the sight of his toned abdomen right in front of you. you thought that kind of body only existed in television and photoshoped magazines, not in a couple of floors above yours. he laughed at your expression, caressing your cheek.

“you like what you see?”

you blushed, nodding. he grinned, his other hand caressing your thigh again. you couldn’t help yourself, grinding against his clothed crotch as his hand squeezed your thigh. eric groaned and you felt a knot down your stomach, completely turned on by now.

“you can see this everytime you want, babe. 12th floor, remember?” he said, trying to keep the mood as light as possible.

you nodded, leaning in to kiss his soft lips again. as you pressed your clothed pussy against his boner again, he moaned into the kiss, his hands dropping your blouse through your shoulders, quickly looking for your bra. he unclasped the piece of clothing with two fingers and you whined as he pulled your bra completely out of your body, embarrassed to be exposed like that. eric broke the kiss, taking his time to admire your bare chest, amazed by how beautiful you are. you tried to cover yourself with your arms and eric quickly grabbed your hands, looking at your eyes.

“there’s no need for you to be shy, y/n. you’re so pretty” he said, his hands leading yours to his torso. he made sure your hands got busy with his own body as his lips lowered to your upper chest. “you’re so hot” he mumbled between open mouthed kisses on your boob, so close to your hard nipple you could feel his breath. “it’s such a shame i’m the only one who gets to see how hot you look right now...”

“eric...” you moaned, anticipating for the moment he would finally lower his mouth to your nipple.

“tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you” he mumbled, making out with your soft flesh. you knew you would have bruises all over your chest in a couple of hours, but your brain was completely shut down at that point.

“i...” you tried. you actually tried to tell him to suck on your tits and touch your cunt as a desperate whore, but the words couldn’t find their way out of your throat. “i can’t” you whined.

eric chuckled, his hands going behind your skirt again. “you’re shy, hm? that’s ok, i’m in a good mood today. how do you feel...” he said, both his hands grabbing your ass. you moaned, closing your eyes shut. “... about telling me yes or no? i’ll ask if you want me to do something and you’ll tell me, hm?”

you nodded, your hands holding onto his torso.

“words, princess. i’m gonna need words.”

“yes, eric. yes” you whine. he smiled, even though you couldn’t see.

“do you want me to rub you, pretty girl?”

feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks and ears, you bit your lip before saying a shaky “yes”. eric hummed, his dominant hand entering your underwear with ease. his fingertips reached your slit, collecting your arousal before circling your clit for real this time. you moaned, your hands reaching for his shoulders as you leaned in, looking for support.

“you’re so wet, y/n” he cooed. “is it because of me? a stranger you met over an hour ago?”

“y-yes. god, yes” you whined as he kept his pace and pressure. he got you clenching around nothing just by rubbing your clit. jesus, you were quite deprived and didn’t even realized.

“do you want me to suck your tits, babe? make you feel real good before fucking you dumb?”

you whined, pressing your hips down, trying to get more friction of his fingers. “please...”

eric smiled big before attaching his lips to your hardened nipple. you moaned, squeezing his shoulders at the contact. his tongue circled your nipple so softly and slowly, almost as if he was devouring your body. his fingers stopped for a moment, only to slid through your slit again and enter your pussy slowly, his digits stretching your gummy walls. you bit your lip trying to avoid loud moanings, not knowing where the elevator stopped.

his cock was throbbing inside of his sticky underwear and you knew it. a little clumsy, you reached for his belt, loosening it the way you could, your body too overwhelmed to do things straight. eric let go of your nipple with a loud pop, smiling at you.

“you have no idea of how bad i want you to jerk me off, baby” he started, his fingers painfully slow in and out of you. “but i’m afraid we’re gonna have to pass it for now, 'cause i need to fuck you before the lights come back, hm?”

“but you... you’re doing it to me” you managed to say, almost strangled. he chuckled, pumping in and out of you faster. you gasped, your hands supporting yourself on his torso.

“and i could do this all day. but i can’t go home only feeling your dripping cunt on my fingers, can i?” he said softly, as if he wasn’t about to make you cum on his fingers. your fingernails digged into his skin and you held your breath, letting him know you were about to cum, so he kept the pace, his palm casually brushing through your clit.

you leaned your head against his shoulder as you came, literally drooling on his skin. you didn’t have time to feel embarrassed as he removed his fingers out of you as soon as you came down, licking them as if he was starving and you were the best meal he’s ever had. still shaking a little, you unzipped his pants and managed to pull his underwear down, the most uncoordinated way possible. eric chuckled and you felt your mouth watering at the sight of his throbbing tip hitting his stomach, so red and shiny leaking his precum.

“you think you can ride me?” eric asked, pumping himself slowly between your bodies. he had a decent size, probably big enough to hit your cervix, thicker than you expected.

as you looked at him with hazed eyes, his free hand found his walled inside of his back pocket. he stopped jerking off for a bit, looking for a condom between the tip bills he had in there. after finding and opening the package with his teeth, you couldn’t stop looking as his movements, wondering if he could fuck you raw.

“i think i can try” you said, lifting yourself up and pulling your panties to the side. as eric adjusted himself beneath you, you slowly sank down, feeling his tip stretching you. you bit your lips, holding a loud moaning and eric hissed. his hands grabbed your ass with eager and his head rested against the cold metal wall.

you lowered your body slowly, trying to adjust to the delicious feeling of his cock inside of you. as you got him completely inside of you, you whined and eric slapped your ass. your body jolted at the feeling, eric groaning at the movement. seeying his neck exposed, your lips shyly kissed his adam’s apple, slowly moving on top of him.

“aren’t you sweet?” eric groaned, slapping your ass again. “gosh, you’re so tight. talk to me otherwise i’ll cum in a minute” he moaned, his hand caressing the flesh he freshly slapped.

“i can’t think of anything” you whine, your ass smacking against his skin. his tip brushed against your g-spot so easily, your mind going completely blank. you gave the spot between his shoulder and his neck a specially harsh kiss, sucking on the skin right after. he moaned, the sound making you clench around him.

“you like it when i moan, princess?” he asked, his voice sending chills down your spine. you hummed against his skin, clenching again.

“men... they never moan” you said, closing your eyes again. you put your forearms on his shoulders, trying to get support as your thighs began to feel sore. eric chuckled, suddenly trusting his hips foward to meet yours. you moaned unexpectedly, throwing your head back.

“i’m not like the men you fucked before, hun” eric whimpered, his voice shaky. “i’m not intending to hide how good you feel around me.”

you whined, slowing down your pace. you were about to get cramps on your thighs, but you could feel your second orgasm so close...

“your thighs hurtin’?” eric asked, his hand squeezing your ass again.

“yes” you whined, sinking down again.

eric hissed before sliding himself down on the floor, laying the best way he could inside of that tiny metal cube. pulling your torso towards him, eric started to thrust in and out of you, fucking you deliciously.

you pressed your forehead against eric’s shoulder while whining, the pleasure becoming unbearable. eric kept his pace, his tip hitting your cervix non-stop.

“i’m gonna cum if you don’t stop clenching around me” eric moaned and you only whined in response, your hands squeezing the sides of his torso.

your name never seem to leave his lips as his thrusts became erratic and he came first inside of the condom. he kept his hard thrusts while riding his high and you took that moment to put your hand between your bodies and rub your clit, your orgasm washing over you in a matter of seconds.

you plopped your whole body down, your legs weak like jelly. eric chuckled, his hands caressing the sides of your body. he gave you a minute before pulling his dick out of you, enjoying your last whine.

“you look so beautiful like this” he said as you started lifting your body away from his. you seemed confused and he smiled. “all fucked up.”

you laughed and slapped his chest playfully before completely leave his lap. eric watched with hazed eyes as you fixed your underwear and lowered your skirt back to it’s place. when you were about to grab your bra, eric got it first, hiding behind his body.

“what’s this now?” you asked, chuckling. eric smiled, pulling his underwear and pants back up while still looking at you.

“your tits are too pretty to be covered by a bra” he shrugged, sitting on the floor again. you shook your head, suddenly feeling exposed again under the dim lights. “i’mma keep them for now, huh?”

you didn’t know what to respond as eric helped you dressing your blouse again, his fingertips brushing against your hot skin while he buttoned the piece for you. when he was done, you knew he could see your nipples piercing through the thin fabric – exactly like he pictured.

��so pretty” he mumbled before leaning in to kiss you again. and you let him kiss your lips for the nth time, completely unaware of the time or how long it would take for the power to come back.

(un)fortunately, the lights got back on two minutes after eric got you dressed again. you got on your feet awkwardly, leaning down to grab your terrible heels again. eric hummed at the view of your ass towards him, you skin still red under the fabric. eric got up as well, putting his shirt back on. he sneaked your bra inside of his pants while keeping eye contact with you.

the elevator’s ding indicated the 7th floor.

“be my guest to come around and get it back anytime you want, sweetheart” he smiled. you suddenly felt like hovering his body with yours again, but you couldn’t. “12th floor, 1207. i’ll wait for you.”

the doors opened and you walked out against your will, eric’s smile vivid inside of your mind. as the elevator’s door closed behind you, leaving you alone in the hallway, you took a deep breath before turning around.

you waited around twenty seconds before hitting the elevator button again.

#eric sohn #eric smut #eric au #son youngjae #sohn youngjae #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #the boyz hard thoughts #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #eric hard hours

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enihk-writes · 2 months

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[someone older]

pairing: older!multi-fandom men x gn!they/them!reader

reader is written to be in their early twenties, under twenty-five and fresh out of uni with their first degree and no corporate work experience.

summary: shorts about old men and a younger beau to-be

content warning: big age-gap relationships // superior-subordinate power imbalance // possible infantilization // some form of saviour-complex // (some unintentional) manipulation

characters: zhongli (genshin impact) // neuvilette (genshin impact) // jing yuan (honkai star rail) // tang gunak (return of the blossoming blade) // dokgo (return of the mad demon) // chongyue (arknights) // shamane (RE:1999) // hiromi higuruma (jujutsu kaisen) // ryū (gokurakugai)

author's note: my lovely oomfs i need yall to look away and pretend im doing okay,,, the demons and the little voices in my head have won and taken over..... i have to make that middle-aged man pregnant so so so so bad it's terminal... (head in hands)... OUGHHHHKKKGSHHH (coughs blood and straight up dies)..... looking at the list here i really have a type huh....

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

ZHONGLI who had lived for long enough to have seen and experienced almost everything one could see, was still taken aback when he felt a familiar throb in his heart as he conversed with the new face of the artisan's alley. a fledgling who had just left their nest and was beginning to make their way into the world — your naivety much unlike your more seasoned neighbours who knew how to set the prices of their goods to gain the maximum profit. you were often tricked and scammed out of selling your wares at their proper price, too scared to stand your ground and disrespect your older customers. the former archon couldn't bear to see a budding talent, such as yourself, sell themselves short out of expected social courtesy. he often found himself buying your highest-priced works even if he had to empty his entire wallet. you were beyond grateful for his patronage, even offering a commission, free of charge. that's just how bad business was before he stepped in. oh you poor thing, now that he knows how easy it was to get you dancing in his palm, how could he let you meet better opportunities? he was your lifeline, the only way you were going to make it in this career you chose. and you better not forget that.

NEUVILETTE knew that he shouldn't be so enamoured with the new hire. really. a being who had been alive for as long as he falling in love with someone thousands of years their junior? he wanted to rip his hair out. the chief justice approached this predicament as he would with almost anything he deemed annoying — avoidance. sending you out on errands that kept you out of the office for the whole day, giving days off to everyone if there was nothing on the agenda, having you go sort out documents in the filing room, and a whole host of other things that made sure you and him wouldn't cross paths. once he had a clearer mind to sit down and think, he is immediately riddled with guilt. weren't his actions akin to that of a black company employer? you on the other hand, could not be happier to hit the jackpot. good pay, regular days off, responsibilities that didn't require you to rack your brain too much. this was everything an energy-saving adult like you could ever want. it must be nice to frolic around and stay blissfully unaware while your boss was in the middle of a mental breakdown alone in his office.

JING YUAN was a calculating man, despite the commonly held belief that he never really took things too seriously. he kept a rather consistent air of nonchalance so impenetrable that it annoyed you whenever you couldn't discern what was on his mind at that moment. your after-hours hobby these days was to drop by the community starchess club and play a few rounds with the people there. and who else was waiting there at your seat every day? your damned boss. the elders who were there swooned over the handsome general, remarking about how you and him made a great pair — much to your chagrin. the man would always send a blinding smile in your way as you got closer, even going so far as to help you settle down. the routine was always the same each night. you would play against him for at least five rounds consecutively, lose against him in almost every single match, play against the other club members, gather your things and go home for the day. the general would also coincidentally be done with his activities. he offered to walk you to your front door, you've learnt from the one time you refused that the general was unusually talented in pulling an extremely sad, pathetic, wet and kicked puppy face. unfortunately, you were too nice to reject him further. ah, but now that he knew of that weakness of yours, you'd better expect that he would be pulling the same trick again soon.

TANG GUNAK felt that he was far too geriatric to be feeling this way. especially when he had adult children of his own. the youngest of whom was only a few years older than you were. a talented person, emerging at the top of your class in the academy meant that the world was your oyster. so why had you decided to come down to sichuan and work as an aide in this family? the patriarch had no clue, and he certainly didn't know how to even bring up the question. at first, he had hoped that perhaps you and one of his children would be wed but as time passed, it became increasingly obvious you were not interested in them at all, rather you had set your sights on the patriarch himself. him? the widower? the poor man who had only felt the touch of his dead wife? he was very scandalised that the young aide of his house was so open about their attraction to him. however, it seemed nobody in the household was on his side. not even his own flesh and blood. though for all that forwardness, he never expected that you would be so hesitant and shy when you were alone with him. it was endearing how you became more diligent whenever that happened, how you would engross yourself in your work just to pretend he wasn't there with you. the next time he looked up from what he was doing, you were passed out on your desk. he moved over to carry you back to your quarters — it was deep into the night right now anyways, so nobody would see him with you in his arms. he tucked you into bed, leaving as quickly as he came. the glimpse of his own flushed face in the reflection of the window never left his mind the rest of that week.

DOKGO had agreed to follow his disciple to town only because said disciple was going to throw a tantrum in his courtyard and the older man was not in the mood to deal with the adult child. the master pretended to not be acquainted with his own disciple when the man began to flirt with the women passing by. he walked on and sat down at a vacant bench in front of a teahouse. his troublesome disciple eventually shook off the girls clinging onto him and joined his master at the table, a string of apologies falling out his mouth when he caught sight of the older man's disapproving glare. only when the younger man offered to pay did the old master's hardened expression fall softer — fine, he said with a grunt. the second headache of the day came in the shape of you, a wandering merchant, or so you said. you slipped in to sit next to the master after the disciple had graciously allowed you to. not like the older man could oppose when there weren't any empty seats in the vicinity. while the conversation was lively as you talked with the disciple about your travels, he could only focus solely on the callouses of your palms, something a merchant who says they are not a martial artist shouldn't have. you had noticed his scrutinising gaze, throwing him a quick grin as you continued the chat with his disciple. oh? he could only wonder what that was about. shame that his dull, blockheaded disciple had let that slip past him. the master wonders if he should up the training regime when they get back.

CHONGYUE was up and early, as he usually does, leading the daily morning exercise with the other operators. the doctor not being there was somewhat expected, but you going missing? that was a first. when the morning exercise was over, he headed up to your room to check on you, finding the door slightly ajar. cautiously, he walked into the dark room, you had a bag of junk near the entry, from the looks of it you were living off cup noodles and soda, again. no wonder you were now curled up in bed all sick. he might have to give you an earful later, but for now, he puts aside your laundry and took out the trash. he goes down to the canteen, ordering some warm chicken porridge and even stopping by the nurse's office to pick up whatever he thinks you might need. this time, you were now somewhat awake. grumbling and muttering complaints under your breath from the disturbance, he helped you sit up. you insisted on feeding yourself, but he would have none of it. you could only comply and open your mouth wide every time he brought the spoon to your lips. you finished the food and even took the medicine obediently, earning praise from the man himself. before he left, he rubbed some medicinal balm on your stomach, layering warm blankets and patted you back to sleep, reciting an abbot's chants as he did so. the nostalgic feeling was comforting. you should thank him when you got better — maybe he might be interested in a popular classic novel from your home country, or should you try your luck with the lacquer pots instead?

SHAMANE spotted a figure hunched over the running stream near his hut as he was out collecting the fresh water he would need for the day. when they didn't answer his calls, he walked over, not too worried about whether the figure was a dangerous critter or not. the snap of a twig had them spin their head in his direction — that's when he met your eyes. you both stared at the other, sizing each other up. when he decided that you were not a threat, he introduced himself with his signature smile. you did the same, albeit quieter, still a little peeved from seeing a large bearded man in the middle of nowhere. friendly as ever, he kept the conversation going. he talked about himself, he asked about you, and so on and so forth until you finally admitted to him that you had gotten lost in the mountains, also you had twisted your ankles. he pointed to his hut and asked if you wanted to rest in there until you got better, how could you say no? the month when you lived under the same roof as him passed by quickly, and soon enough it was time for you to go back down the mountain. when you both parted ways at the entrance of the village, there was an air of reluctance in saying goodbye. you promised to write to him, maybe even visit him. he only laughed you off, not expecting much to come out of that. though when he received his sister's letter not long after, he thought about taking you with him to his hometown. but ah, isn't visiting each other hometowns a thing expectant newlyweds do? well, he could always pretend he didn't know about these things, couldn't he?

HIGURUMA was pretty friendly with the tenants renting out the office space next door. all of whom were fresh design school graduates trying to start a business together. you were the one he's grown the most familiar with, the unofficial boss of the company and the one who was single-handedly juggling your own practice along with other administrative duties. he helped you where he could, the doors to his own law office always open to you — even in the wee hours of the night. you would sit cross-legged on the big swivel chair as both of you engrossed yourselves in your respective work with the boxes of takeout splayed all over his table. when it was late enough that you missed the last train, he drove you back to your apartment. and everytime you sat in the passenger seat, he would reach over to pull the seatbelt on for you. you could have done it yourself but how were you supposed to pass up the chance to have him come this close? enough to even catch a whiff of his cologne? the lawyer himself knew that you were capable enough to do something this simple, but he couldn't help but enjoy the way you tried not to look at him as he did this each time. the ride back was quiet and serene, your tired body sank into the plush of his car seats and soon you were knocked out cold. even when you were both already parked outside your residence, you still wouldn't rouse. he clicks the seatbelt off you, even going so far as to push the seat back so you were lying more comfortably. you've done this enough times where he has a blanket to cover you with as he waited for you to wake up. which you would, and feel so ashamed. he thinks about how cute you were babbling out your apologies and thanks, all while scrambling to pull yourself together and out his car. only to repeat this whole song and dance the very next night.

RYŪ was a bit of a recluse. never really leaving his room unless it was for a really good reason. which was rare, and by rare it was almost never. but a human had to eat, shit and get clean — which was where you came in. as the designated errand runner for the organisation, you were the one that ended up having to take care of that guy's day-to-day needs. you might have hated him at first, with how picky he was with his food, even the brand of his necessities had to be the exact right one. doesn't matter if the stock ran out, you had to go out there and haunt for a place that still has it or else he wouldn't even entertain your presence. the one good thing you had going about you was that you were adaptable, learned things quick and was light on your feet. if things went south, you always had a backup, and a backup for the backup, you get the idea. the man, mayhaps out of the other's insistence, but you liked to think that he had warmed up to you, started to initiate conversations. at some point whenever you brought him his meals, he would make you sit and watch him eat. at first, you didn't know what to talk about, but then you also started bringing your own lunchboxes to eat alongside him, and you talked his ear off about what you made that day. over time, you both fell into a routine and on days when he's kept you a little too long with him, you'd stay over and crash on his couch. and after more time had passed, he's already got some of your clothes together with his in the wardrobe. hell, he even bought a bigger sofa just so you could sleep better whenever you stayed over. give it more time and who knows, you might end up moving in completely, not that this old hack would mind too much.

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prismatic-bell · 7 months

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HEY TUMBLR!!

Guess who you know who fucked up xir paycheck math like never before!!

This particular brouhaha involves me buying concert tickets without realizing a different payment hadn’t yet come out, and I don’t feel comfortable being like “hey y’all, just give me money for my leisure.” BUT. I do have wares, if you have coin, to help me sew up the hole in my pocket.

Please allow me to introduce the CROSS-MY-HEART.

(Don’t mind my facial expression, I was staring almost directly into the sun in a couple of these.)

I first saw one of these in one of my mom’s crochet magazines in the early 90s, and have never seen one since. “Cross my heart” might have even been the name of the pattern, not the item, and this is merely an attempt to reverse-engineer it. But as you can see, this particular heavy shawl does in fact cross the heart, and buttons from the inside in order to adjust wherever you like. (You can also wear it inside out if you want to, but there aren’t two buttons, so it’s not as adjustable in that direction, and also the pattern will look slightly different.)

The cross-my-heart is ideal for times of year when a sweater or blanket is too damn hot and shirtsleeves or bare arms are too damn cold, and is spacious enough for free arm movement. I don’t have access to a wheelchair, but experiments with a kitchen chair show it should also be an ideal length to keep your upper half warm without getting caught in your wheels, if that’s a consideration for you.

The Pumpkin Spice Cross-My-Heart is made of allergen-free acrylic in a smoke-free, dog-free, cat-friendly home, and is available for $120 + shipping (provide an address for shipping calculations). Tips are accepted and appreciated, but not expected.

This particular cross-my-heart was a test pattern due to the whole “had to reverse engineer from something I saw when I was like five” thing, and as such will be entirely unique as I worked out row sizes and, uh, took so long that the entire colorway was discontinued. (Okay, Caron.) In light of this, rather than the usual 12” of extra yarn I normally provide in case of cigarette burns, teething puppies, sharp corners, etc., the Pumpkin Spice Cross-My-Heart will include 24” of spare yarn. I stand behind my work as quality, but also recognize accidents happen.

The cross-my-heart is machine-washable on the delicates cycle. DO NOT WASH WITH ITEMS THAT HAVE HOOK AND EYE CLOSURES, as the item features decorative barrel stitches.

Interested? DM me! Not interested but want to help me fix my mathematical screw-up? Reblog, and keep an eye out later this week for further items!

#crochet #for sale #mutual aid

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joelmillerisapunk · 2 months

Text

Tell 'em you found a lil' something too fresh

Dealer!Joel Miller x reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 1,902

Summary: You find yourself seeking out Joel, the local weed dealer, and ice cream man. What follows is an unexpected and thrilling encounter, leaving you with a bag of top-shelf weed and a story you'll never forget.

Warnings: 18+, hidden in public blowjob, unprotected p in v, weed, joels a dealer, fingering, mentions of 'baby and sweetheart, pretty pussy.'

Notes: I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think ☺️

Joel Miller, the infamously charming weed dealer and local ice cream man, has a penchant for silky button-up shirts adorned with vibrant patterns and prints—a penchant for weed and for pretty women in the summertime. And that's why every summer you can find him in his ice cream truck parked by the beach.

Today, you find yourself drawn to the whispers about Joel and his clandestine dealings, so you venture out in your favorite swimsuit— the one you know will catch his eye, instilling you with confidence and a certain allure.

As the sweltering summer sun beats down from above, you track Joel's ice cream truck to its usual location, and you approach him, hoping to secure your illicit wares for the day. “I'd like to buy some mint chocolate chip, please.” You say as sweetly as possible, using the code you were told meant that you wanted weed. You extend your hand upward to Joel with cash in your hand.

"Well, ain't you just a sight for sore eyes? You're sure too cute to pass up." He winks, and you feel heat creep up your neck, taken aback by his boldness. Joel’s hand reaches under a shelf in the truck. “I’ll tell ya what, sweetheart. I’ve got something even better than mint chocolate chip for you today.” He pulls out a bag filled with a green substance and a subtly sweet aroma. “This here is some top-shelf shit, the best you’ll find around these parts.”

Joel gives you a slow, appraising look, his gaze lingering on your body. "How about we make a little deal, you and me? I'll give you this primo shit, and you give me...well, let's just say you can pay me in a way that's a little more fun than cash."

You feel a flutter of nervous excitement in your stomach. There's something thrilling about buying your first bag of weed. Plus, you can't deny Joel’s charming, confident, and just the right amount of danger.

"Uh, I guess I—"

Joel grins, his teeth gleaming in the summer sunlight as he interrupts you. "That's what I like to hear, sweetheart. Now, why don't you climb into the back of the truck and make yourself comfortable? I'll join you in a minute."

You do as he says. The back of the truck is dimly lit and cool, a welcome relief from the heat outside. You sit down on the bench seat, and your legs are trembling slightly.

A few moments later, Joel joins you. He sits down next to you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

"Now, where were we?"

You swallow hard, your throats dry. "Uh, you were going to give me the weed," you remind him.

"Ah, yes." Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls out the bag, but he doesn't give it to you and puts it back in his pocket. "But I think I'd like to collect on my end of the deal first."

He leans in closer, his breath feels hot on your cheek. You can feel his hand on your thigh, slowly moving upwards. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but your heart is racing.

"Just relax, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, his fingers begin to trace patterns onto your skin. "I promise you're going to enjoy this.”

Joel's hand continues to move up your thigh. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second. Your body is responding to his touch despite your nerves.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful, you know that?" he murmurs. You let out a soft gasp as his fingers find their way under the edge of your swimsuit, teasing your sensitive skin. You can feel yourself growing more and more aroused, your body begging for more.

"You like that, sweetheart?" Joel asks as he slides two thick fingers inside of you.

"Yes," you moan, your hips start to buck against his hand. "Yes, just like that."

Joel begins to move his fingers in and out of you, building up a steady rhythm. His thumb circles your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

"You're so tight, so fuckin’ tight," he groans, his fingers start moving faster.

"Oh god," you moan. "I'm so close, I'm so close."

Joel's fingers move even faster. "Come for me, sweetheart," he growls.

With one final thrust of his finger, you explode, your body starts convulsing with pleasure. You cry out, as your voice echoes in the back of the truck. Joel slows down his movements, his fingers still inside of you, milking every last bit of pleasure from your body. Joel pulls his fingers out of you, his hand glistening with your wetness. He brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. "Sweet as sugar.”

He leans in, and his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only serves to heighten your pleasure. He pulls away from the kiss, and his grin widens as he looks at you. "I think it's time for you to make good on your end of the deal, sweetheart.”

You know what he wants, and you're more than willing to give it to him. You lean forward, and your hands reach for the waistband of Joel's shorts. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric. You pull them down, freeing him. It's thick and hard, and you can't wait to wrap your lips around it.

You lean in, your tongue darting out to taste the tip of his cock. Joel lets out a low groan as his hand reaches for your hair. He helps you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his cock. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, and you know he's enjoying this. You begin to move your head a little quicker, building up a steady rhythm. Joel's hips begin to buck against your mouth, his fingers tighten in your hair.

You can feel yourself growing more aroused with every thrust of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans. But you're suddenly interrupted by a bell signaling a customer. You both pause looking at each other.

Joel's grin widens. "Now, I hate to do this to you, sweetheart, but I've got a customer up front. I'm going to need you to keep being amazing while I take care of them, need you to stay low and keep workin’ that mouth."

You feel a flutter of nervous excitement in your stomach. The idea of giving Joel a blowjob while he serves a customer is both thrilling and a little nerve-wracking.

"Okay," you say quietly.

Joel nods, giving you a wink before making his way to the front of the truck. You stay low and crawl until you're underneath Joel, hiding yourself from view.

"Hey there, what can I get for you today?" Joel greets them, his voice cheery and friendly.

You glance up at Joel's cock, still standing at attention. You lick your lips, eager to continue where you left off. You lean forward, taking him back into your mouth. You can hear the customer talking to Joel, but you tune it out, focusing on the feeling of Joel's cock in your mouth. You can feel his fingers in your hair, gently guiding your head. You can tell he's trying to be discreet, but you can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to focus. You can sense him struggling to maintain his composure, but you can feel his hips bucking more insistently against your mouth.

You can feel yourself growing even more aroused. You reach down with one hand, sliding your fingers under your swimsuit rubbing your clit as you continue to suck and lick at Joel's cock.

"Yes, that'll be, fuck, sorry, uh five dollars." Joel manages to get out.

You can hear the sound of the customer handing over the money, just as you begin to taste Joel's pre-cum on your tongue.

You can feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm, but just as you're about to come, the customer leaves, and Joel's grip on your hair tightens.

"Not yet, sweetheart. I want that tight pussy comin' on this hard cock," he growls, pulling out of your mouth and pushing you back onto the bench seat.

He quickly removes your swimsuit, spreading your legs wide and plunging his cock deep inside of you., filling you completely, his balls slapping against your wetness. "Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart. So tight and wet, just for me." He groans, his voice husky with desire. "Been thinkin' about this all day, sliding my cock into a pretty pussy like yours.” Joel's thrusts become harder, more demanding. "You like that, don't you, sweetheart?”

"Feels so good," you moan.

Joel's hand reaches down, finding your clit. He begins to circle it with his fingers, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "You're mine, sweetheart. I own this pussy, I own these orgasms.”

Joel's words are like a match to dry kindling, igniting a fire deep within you. You can feel yourself growing closer to the edge with each thrust of his hips, each circling of his fingers. "Yes, Joel. I'm yours. Oh god m’so close," you whine.

Joel's words, combined with his skilled fingers and powerful thrusts, send you over the edge. You cry out as your body convulses with pleasure. Joel lets out a low groan. His thrusts only become more frantic as he feels you clenching around him.

"Mmm - pussy’s so damn pretty when she comes."

You can feel his cock twitching inside of you, and you know he's close.

"Come for me, Joel, please" you moan.

With one final thrust, Joel explodes inside of you, his cock throbbing and twitching like waves crashing onto the shore. He lets out a low groan, his body shuddering with pleasure as he empties himself inside of you.

You stay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure, Joel slowly pulls out of you, his cock still semi-hard and glistening with your combined juices. He passes you a towel and cleans himself too.

He helps you get dressed, his fingers linger on your skin as he helps pull your swimsuit back up.

Joel grabs his shorts, pulling out the weed and hands it over. "Thanks, sweetheart. You're a damn good deal," he says, winking at you before pulling up his shorts and makes his way to the front of the truck.

You sit there, your body still trembling with pleasure. You can still feel the warmth of Joel's touch on your skin, the lingering taste of his cock on your lips. You can't help but smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction and excitement wash over you.

As you step out of the back of the truck, you see Joel serving ice cream to a group. He looks up and catches your eye, winking at you before turning back to his customers. You feel a flutter in your chest, knowing that he's thinking about what just happened between you two.

This is definitely a summer you'll never forget.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader

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abyssruler · 1 year

Text

cyno x gn!reader

Cyno thinks his ears must not be working properly.

“You… what?”

You smile, a jittery sort of twist to it that belies your excitement (or nervousness and apprehension, his ever-suspicious mind supplies).

“A date, um, this Saturday, and you have to be there,” you tell him with all the seriousness you can muster.

He doesn’t understand why he has to be present for your date, but he has no complaints about it. Any man or woman who tries to woo you should be held under the utmost scrutiny to decipher any hidden agendas. (Deep within his mind, he already knows that no matter how perfect they are, he will always find fault with them simply for being the object of your affections.)

So he agrees to meet you at the meeting spot you designated and resolves to thoroughly observe whoever it is that managed to capture your heart under his nose.

✧

It’s been four hours.

Four hours of roaming through stalls, mindless chatter with merchants, arguments ensuing as his sharp eyes and even sharper tongue called out any seller who tried to scam you with their wares, combing through the streets and buying any food that managed to catch your attention.

Four hours — and your date is nowhere to be seen.

There isn’t a hint of distress on your face, however. If anything, you look content, biting happily into the fried skewer you recently bought as you strolled beside him at a leisurely pace.

Another hour passes — another hour of being dragged by his wrist to look at a group of dancers and laughing at street plays and doing anything and everything but being on a date with the mystery person who managed to inflict such a sheepish yet soft look on your face when you mentioned your date to him days ago.

He can’t bear the suspense of it anymore. If your date has tucked their tail between their legs and run and left you hanging, he will see them punished. You look far too calm, but perhaps you’re disguising the hurt that must linger after being ditched without warning.

So he pulls you aside and voices out the question that has been on his mind since the moment you grabbed his wrist and started pulling him along.

“Where is your date? It’s been hours since the agreed upon meeting time and they have yet to show their face.”

You blink at him, confusion painting your features. He frowns at that. You must be covering for them, hiding away your pain so he wouldn’t get mad as he predictably would and go after whoever it is that left you.

(A look of dawning understanding blooms on your face.)

No matter. Even if you try to hide their identity, Cyno can use his resources to discover who it is. It’s an abuse of his power, but he reasons that it is a perfectly justified use of the connections he has as the General Mahamatra. To let such a person roam free, a person who turns back on their word without so much as a warning, he won’t let that go unpunished. Cyno will—

You burst out laughing, hands clutching your stomach as you bent over to catch your breath. He ignores the way his heart quickens at the sound of your laugh, instead looking down at you with a disapproving frown.

“Laughing isn’t going to make me forget this slight against you. Tell me who they are so I can—”

“You dummy!” You gasp out, still breathless from your earlier laugh. There’s a wide smile on your face, the streetlights of the Grand Bazaar illuminating your face and casting it in an almost otherworldly glow. “Did you really think I liked someone else?”

You step forward, leaning in so close he could almost smell the lingering scent of the cologne that you tried on earlier at one of the stores. Your mouth opens—and this is the part where his ears stop working.

“You’re my date, silly!”

The intimate gesture of holding his wrist, hand-feeding him food, the pleased look you’ve been sporting all day since he arrived at the meeting spot…

Oh.

Perhaps he really is a dummy.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno x reader #genshin cyno x reader #genshin shorts #gn reader #serious x airhead

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

Text

I'll come pick it up after pt.9

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: No matter how hard he try, John Egan can't escape the war. Even when he's in London...

Waring: Sadness/ mention of a dead children, brother/ historical inaccuracies/ grief/ crying/ use of Y/n/ allusion to sex

Word count: 970 words

The morning after, Egan woke up, naked next to his nurse. She helped him when he woke up during the night, he was starting to lose his mind, seeing the effect of the bombs he dropped. He stretched his arms and looked at his nurse, she looked so peaceful, the opposite of her life and his right now. He looked at the time, 11:17, it was almost noon. He decided to wake her up by kissing her neck, not the start anything sexual, just to tickle her, so she wakes up with a smile. When she opened her eyes, she saw her pilot, with a huge smile on his face. ‘’Good morning, darling’’ he said, with his raspy morning voice. She giggled, she always found men with low, raspy voice attractive. ‘’Why are you laughing’’ he asked, smiling. ‘’Your voice is hot’’ she mumbled, stretching her arms. She went on top of him, only to get out of bed, and tease him a little. She was naked, they didn’t bother to put cloths on after the midnight ride. ‘’Wanna go explore the city?’’ she asked, while getting dressed. She wore a white blouse, with long sleeves, with blue checkered pants. The occasion where she could wear pants were rare, but she loved it. It was more comfortable than a skirt, and it didn’t expose her private parts if it was windy outside.

After they ate, they started to walk around London, they were holding hands. He was happy he could show her off. At the base, they didn’t want to show too much affection, it was where they worked, he had a war to win, and she had people to heal. Bucky wanted to buy the newspaper, he wanted to understand what happened yesterday. When he was walking towards the seller, they both heard a woman scream. Their head turned to see a house that collapsed, people were scouting the debris in search of people. ‘’No! Please my daughter’’ the woman cried. Y/n heart was breaking, she had heard the same screams when her mother learned that her son had died. Her eyes filled with tears, she wanted to hug her, two men were holding her arms, so she wouldn’t go in the debris. One of the men that was on the destroyed house was holding the corpse of a dead children. Bucky was watching the scene with a lump in his throat, was this how the Germans acted too, when he dropped bombs on their house? With almost no compassion, the men holding the kid, walked in front of the mother like she wasn’t there. Y/n walked towards the woman. She was wailing on the ground; no mother should ever lose her children. Bucky was paralyzed, he couldn’t move, but he was looking at his girl, she was helping the mother, she was so selfless, but in a good way, ‘’I’m so sorry for your loss’’ Y/n said, kneeling in front of the woman.

She wanted to be in front of her to make the woman feel heard. Y/n wanted to let her know that she was there, she understood. She never lost a daughter, but she had lost a brother. The mother didn’t say anything, she just hugged the nurse. ‘’It’s okay, I got you’’ The people that were watching the scene, began to leave, but Bucky stayed, waiting for his girl. But he wasn’t gonna pressure her, she needed to help that woman, and he understood why. After a few minutes passed, the woman stopped hugging Y/n, thanking her for being there and started to walk away. Y/n went back to Bucky, he was looking pale. ‘’Bucky are you okay?’’ she asked, taking his hand. To show him that she was there. He looked at her, smiling. He didn’t want to say what was truly on his mind: how many children died because of me? Instead, he just said he was fine. She didn’t believe him, she knew what he was thinking, but she didn’t want to pressure him.

When Bucky read the first page, he thought his legs were going to abandon him. The mission was a disaster, they had a huge number of losses. Was his best-friend in the line up? Egan looked at Y/n, they were supposed to be on vacation, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about the war. ‘’Call the base, I know you need to do it.’’ She calmly said. That was all he needed to hear, he went into a red cabin and called the base, praying for good news.

Y/n was waiting outside the cabin, hearing a little bit of the conversation, but when Bucky smacked the telephone, she knew something was wrong. He came out of the red booth, the expression on his showed so many emotions, anger, sadness and grief. ‘’What happened?’’ she asked, wanting news. ‘’Buck went down’’ she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, the compassionate smile on her face faded. Gale Cleven was probably dead, she shook her head, in denial. ‘’There’s a mission tomorrow, I said I was going to be there, leading it. We must get back to the base, I’m so – ‘’ ‘’Don’t even say your sorry, because I understand. Buck is your best friend, and I have to check on my girls. Don’t apologize, Bucky’’ she said, taking his face with her hands, to make him look at her. He took her hands in his. ‘’Thank you so much, darling, I don’t know how I would do it without you.’’ He kissed her, he was truly grateful for her. ‘’Let’s get back to the base, shall we’’ she said, smiling. He only nodded, he was angry, he wanted to rip the head off every German for hurting his best friend. He was going to paint Germany red, with the blood of it’s population...

Part 10⬇️

#john egan x female reader #john egan x reader #major john egan #john egan #master of the air imagine #master of the air #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #callum turner #gale cleven #austin butler

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iblameashley · 9 months

Text

Market Mingle and *Tea*lights.

Civilian | Male | Gay

2,593 words

Content: None really. Pure fluff.

Follow up to The Gift of Giving.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley | Male/GN Reader

!!!SFW!!!

You happen to run into Simon at the local market and take the opportunity to spend some time with him shopping. Who can resist a little mingling and maybe a spot of tea after?

(Tea-lights is a stupid play on Delights...)

(Special shout-out to @mysticalzombiecheesecake who asked to be tagged.)

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

What better way to spend your day than outside and at the local market? It was a little later in the day than you expected, but sleeping in is also nice. You were lucky to have a remote job and generally didn't have to deal with office life. This afforded you a lot of leeway when it came to work-life balance, but nothing was better than actual time off to get out and do things for yourself.

The market itself was a great place. Vendors were always swapping out and there were a variety of trinkets, tools, clothing, food and more up for barter. The fact that it also bordered a nearby park helped for escaping the crowded stalls at a moments notice. You hiked your bags up on your shoulder.

What you didn't expect to find at the market was Simon. But there he was, three vendors down in his usual mask, a dark hoodie and jeans, and standing taller than most everyone else around him. He seemed fixated on something you couldn't make out from your position.

Wanting to be sure it was him, and you weren't suffering some visual hallucination, you pull out your phone and send a message

You: Hey Simon! How goes today? What are you up to?

You see him reach in his pocket and pull out his phone.

Simon: It goes. I'm out right now. Simon: Are you looking to meet up again?

You smile as you read his message. Putting your phone back in your pocket, you slowly make your way over to him. You step lightly and walk slowly, hiding behind people as you closed the distance. You were sure you were going to get the drop on him, when he turned around suddenly to face you; his fist pulled back to his side.

His eyes softened as he realized it was just you and he relaxed his fist.

“Hey.” He says in his flat, gravelly voice. “Shouldn't try and sneak up on me, could get hurt.”

“Nah,” You say, waving away his warning. “You'd never hurt me.” You smile.

He looks at you with a furrowed brow.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask. “No pressure.” You add, raising your hands up.

He nods.

“Sure. Just planned to wander, so might be here a while.” He says, returning his attention to the item that had caught his attention.

You crane your head and move around to get a better view of it. Its a multi-tool. It looks old and is rusted, likely not useful for actual use, but if he's focused on it, it means something to him. You take in his interrogation of the tool as he looks it over several times.

“Gonna buy it?” You ask softly.

“Dunno.” He shrugs.

'Always giving away so little.' You think before taking position up beside him. He gives you a side eye, but stays silent.

After a few more minutes of looking over the tool and other wares, he turns and starts to walk away. You pivot on the spot and start walking with him, keeping pace to his longer stride.

Simon briefly stops at a stall selling blankets and gives them a look over, running his hands over the soft fabric and examining the colourful patterns. He looks at you again and simply says, “Not as good as my throw.”

Your heart skips a beat and your soul astral projects around the city before crashing back into your body. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the fact that, in his own way, he just gave you a compliment. He liked your throw, and now compared it to every other one he came across. You had no way of hiding your pleased embarrassment as the red spread across your face, but you managed to get out a low, “I'm glad you like my gift.”

“Mmm." He replies without looking at you.

He moves on to the next stall, this one selling a variety of books that must be well out of print. You can smell the earthy, musky aroma of the old pages as you both step up to the stand. Your eyes dart over the selection of old material; the vendor offering a bit of everything from manuals to romance novels to kitschy sci-fi books.

It was only by happenstance that you looked up to see the glimmer in Simon's eye as he also took in the fascinating sight of the selection before him. He reached down and picked up a particularly damaged booklet. The words on the cover were worn mostly off from age, and the spine had clearly seen better days. But you were able to make out a faint image of a series of guns and what looked like the picture of a World War II uniform. You smile warmly, it's very in line with what he seemed interested in.

“You should get it.” You say as you finger the pile of sci-fi books. You grab a few and begin reading the back.

“You think?” Simon asks genuinely.

“Yeah.” You give him an enthusiastic nod. “Would go well with the collection you already have.”

“Hmm.” He ponders the possibility of the purchase.

You can't help but chuckle at some of the synopsis of the books you have and stack them in your arms. You are definitely getting these.

Simon still seems unsure of the booklet, so you reach over and take it gently from his hands and add it to your stack. “We'll take these.” You say as you turn to the elderly woman tending the stand.

She flashes you a crooked smile and quickly tallies the books total.

“That'll be five pound twenty-five.” She says with a hoarse voice. “Need a bag, love?” She inquires as you rummage through your wallet.

“No, thank you.” You smile, handing her the exact change.

You turn back to Simon who simply stares at you as you hand the booklet back to him. “That was unnecessary.” He grunts, though still taking the booklet from your hand.

“You're welcome.” You say, ignoring his comment. You shove the books into one of the bags tucked under your arm, and see that Simon is already heading off to the next table. Though his eyes are still very much on the booklet.

Simon stops in front of a stand selling cured meats and starts placing an order, clearly having been here before. You watch as his mood shifts; he's not quite pleasant, but he's much nicer to the man currently filling several wrappers with a variety of goods.

You stand there quietly as he the friendly man hands over the meats in a bag and Simon pays. You're interest is piqued by his selections, offering a small look into the man who keeps himself well guarded.

“Having a party?” You ask with a hint of cheekiness as he notices you staring.

“Maybe.” He grunts.

“Am I invited?” You say, pressing him.

“No.” He huffs, once again making off for his next destination.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

After a few more stops, he makes his way to a shop that takes you by surprise; soaps and shampoos. You had to admit that he did always smell great, but he didn't seem the type to buy such things in front of people – friends – so carefree.

His eyes tactically scanned the offerings as if looking for something specific. You couldn't resist taking a look as well, picking up a bar of soap labelled 'Nomad.'

“Earthy and adventurous with a smoky note and hint of pine.” You say, reading the label. “Huh...” You take a sniff. “Smells nice!” You smile.

You set it back down and pick up another one; 'Midnight Forest.'

“Deep moss scent with cedarwood, and a touch of herbs.” Again you sniff it. You purse your lips, unconvinced.

Simon's attention is split between his search and your inquisitive exploration of the soap.

“Going to buy one?” He asks.

You shrug, picking up another one.

“Stealth.” You say.

Simon's eyes lock on the bar of soap.

“An invigorating mix of sandalwood, black peppercorn and a citrus zest.”

You see his hand twitching at his side, quickly realizing you found the one he was looking for, but he's too damn prideful to tell you. You smile, and enjoy the moment. You play with the bar of soap, examining it closely. “What do you think, Simon? Should I get this one?”

“Get what you want.” He says with annoyance. You can see he's grinding his teeth.

You look the soap over once more before deciding to put it down, instead you grab a bar of the 'Nomad,' and pay for it. Shoving it in the bag with your books.

“I'll wait for you over there.” You say, pointing to a quiet area where the market thins out.

You walk away before he can respond. As fun as it was to tease him, you decided to give him a little privacy to make his purchase. You understand its just soap to you, but to him its one more glimpse into his private life.

You look at your bag and books and chuckle at the realization you didn't get much of anything, despite the list you had in your head when you arrived. 'Oh well.' you think, you can always come back.

You see Simon make his way towards you with his usual steady, confident pace, he gives you a nod before stopping a few paces in front of you.

“Got everything I need.” He says with his gruff voice, pulling the bags up briefly to show you. “How about you?”

“No...” you admit, shaking your head, “but I can come back tomorrow, its getting late and I should be heading home.”

Simon nods, and jerks his head to the side, a silent signal that he will walk you to the other side of the market. You smile and nod back, once again walking by his side.

“It was good to see you here, Simon.” You say as you two weave through the crowd.

“Yeah.” He says. His voice is so low and soft you almost didn't hear him.

“Want to get together soon?” You inquire as you two reach your parting destination. “Its been a while.” You add.

“Yeah.” His voice still quiet and soft. “Soon.” He speaks up.

“Perfect, message me when you want me to come over. We can do a movie night or something.”

“Sounds good.” He says. He goes to walk away but stops. Simon examines the bags in his hand and then gazes back at you. He lets out a heavy breath. “You live close by, yeah?” He inquires.

You nod. “Yeah... maybe a ten minute walk?”

“Show me.” Simon commands. “Show me where you live.” His voice is low and gravelly.

“OK, wow... that was a bit threatening...” You say, jerking your head back in surprise. “Why do you want to go to my place?” You ask, furrowing your brow.

“You know where I live.” He says flatly. “You've seen my flat. I want to see yours.”

You consider his request as he stares you down. You know you both do and don't have a choice. If you told him no, he would probably respect it... but it risked bucking the relationship you two had. You take a deep breath. 'Fair is fair.' You think.

“Alright, Simon.” You agree. You motion in the direction of your flat with a wave of your hand before taking off, leaving him behind as he did to you earlier.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

The walk to your flat was mostly uneventful. Simon spent a majority of it taking in the sights, sounds and people; likely never having been to this part of town before. Not a big surprise to you, he likely didn't venture far from his flat on the best of days.

“Not a bad place.” Simon mumbles as you both approach the small building.

It was a pretty basic building; ten units per level over four levels. Small balconies dotting across the exterior. A typical grey-black facade blended the building into the rest along the street. Small shrubs and flowers ran the perimeter of the buildings and filled the air with fragrant scents.

You usher him toward the entrance, typing in your code to enter the building. Simon follows strangely close behind you, but you try not to give it too much attention.

As you enter the flat, you gesture to the bag in his hand. “I'll put it in the fridge until you leave.”

He hands the bag over.

“Take a look around.” you say, giving him permission to roam freely.

Simon sets about your place in a tactical manner, following a path he created in his mind the moment he crossed the threshold of your doorway. He passed the kitchen with little interest and made his way to the living room, taking in the more lived-in feeling of the place. Pictures of your family are spread over the wall between paintings of forests and lakes, and children's art. Your TV stand and bookshelves are filled with reading material and figurines and trinkets. The room is overwhelming to him, the feeling of warmth and coziness curated causes his stomach to twist. He turns quickly and makes his was slowly but steadily towards the hallway.

He disappears from view and you let out a relieved sigh that you cleaned the flat. While he explores your bedroom and office, you put the kettle on and start making some tea. You grab some biscuits from the cupboard and plate them, setting them on the table.

You place two mugs on the counter as the kettle starts to whistle. The sounds seems to stir Simon's interest and he makes his way back to the kitchen. You stand there with a mug in hand, tea bag steeping.

“Thought you might stay for a cup?” You ask softly, handing him the hot mug.

He takes the mug from your hand, briefly touching your fingers.

“Have a seat.” You say, your heart jumping a bit at his touch.

You grab you own mug from the counter and take a seat across from Simon. You take a biscuit from the plate and dip it in your tea before taking a chomp out of it. You lean back in your chair and swallow the sweet treat.

“So whats the verdict?” You ask with a bit of playfulness. Its your flat, so you don't have to give a shit about rules one or two here -or any of them really - but especially those two. Your dynamic was changing and the rules were already bending, but being in your flat still gave you a bit more control. A bit more power.

“I can see several security concerns.” Simon replies flatly, moving his mask down to sip his tea. “But I suppose for a civilian, it will do.”

Was he joking?

You raise an eyebrow.

“Homey.” He adds, not looking at you.

“Well... you're welcome to visit any time.” You say.

He lets out a guttural growl.

You just look at him warmly, knowing you're assaulting him with a lot of stimulus. His mind must be working a mile a minute, so you let him think.

You take another drink of you tea. Sometimes just sitting in silence is enough.

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