#‘go play with the neighbours in busy right now’

[peachypinkygloss]

call me later — jjk

Summer break is always your favourite period of the year, enjoying the fresh water of the pool and the sun kissing your skin. Everything's going great until a sudden boy appears in your life and becomes the centre of your world.

☼ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

☼ genre: strangers to fwb to lovers, summer break au, university au, smut

☼ word count: 2.5k

☼ warnings: kinda inspired by outer banks, rich kid!oc, jk's a munch, oc pushes jk away 😔, they're a bit awkward together lol, outdoor sex, unprotected oral sex, cunnilingus, fingering, brief overstimulation, cum eating.

a.n.: don't get fooled... this isn't cherry!jk ik this one's a munch too but they're very different. you'll see 😉

The sunlight gently graces the skin of your face, enveloping you in a warm embrace, relaxing both your limbs and mind. It's around one p.m., the perfect hour to sunbathe by the pool and to reread the PLL series.

That's what you had planned for today, but you ended up doing something vastly different. Something a bit unpredictable and perverted... To your defence, this would have never happened if he hadn't decided to show up.

Technically, he didn't decide, he's just following the schedule your dad gave him, but still. This isn't entirely your fault; it takes two people to do something like this.

Your chest heaves rapidly as you're looking down between your legs, a hand pulling on his black locks while the other is thrown over your forehead. The lounge chair doesn't allow you to have much space, but you're handling it pretty well you think.

He's handling it well too because you can't imagine how his knees must hurt right now. They're probably all red, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's such a good boy. He knows you'd do the same for him, so he doesn't complain.

Your book is long forgotten on the ground beside your chair and the bookmark has been quickly secured between the pages the moment things have begun to be more intense.

You softly moan, your sounds accompanying the chirps of the birds and the far away noises of the neighbours mowing their lawns. This is public, yet very private. The fences prevent anyone from looking — and there are small chances of people hearing you, considering how big your backyard is and how far your neighbours are — but that doesn't mean nobody can't walk in on you two.

This was really impulsive of you.

Though it's risky and kind of stupid, you regret nothing. How could you when he's so skilled with his tongue...

"Are you usually that vocal?" Jungkook wonders, a stupid grin drawn on his pretty face. He rubs slow circles on your clit to compensate for the loss of his mouth, waiting patiently for your answer.

You let out a pleasant sigh, watching the pads of his fingers playing with your pussy, tattoos inked on his skin and chunky rings adorning his fingers.

You sink your teeth in your bottom lip, collecting your thoughts as Jungkook traces your entrance, dipping his fingers in just a little bit. He really likes to tease.

"When I like the guy," you say breathily, lazy eyes blinking up to stare at him. This only brightens Jungkook's smile and you're confused as to why it makes your stomach flutter.

"You like me?" He smirks, satisfied you've just confessed to liking him.

But you didn't. Or did you? Damn it.

You roll your eyes and grip his hair again. "Get back to business," you groan. You don't miss the laugh he lets out while you push down on his head, shoving his face back between your thighs.

He slides his fingers in completely and you gasp softly, loving how they stretch you out really well. You roll your hips slightly, getting used to the feeling of being full.

Jungkook parts his fingers, scissoring your insides to see how much he can stretch your pussy. He hums as if he was listening to it, and you don't know what it told him, but that was surely good advice because the next thing he does sends you over the moon.

He pumps his fingers in you and wraps his lips around your clit, stimulating two areas at the same time. "Oh, my god, Jungkook," you moan in pleasure, twisting his hair in your fist.

You have a hard time focusing on anything else than him, feeling the cool silver of his piercings brushing against your skin and your wetness dripping down your ass every time he thrusts into you.

You pass your fingers through his hair, your eyes not once looking away from his pink lips sucking on your poor little clit. His digits enter and exit your wet cunt at a rapid pace, eliciting moans and whines out of you, taking your breath away.

You clench your thighs around his head, feeling so overwhelmed right now, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all, on the contrary. Your legs hang over his large shoulders, shaking a little bit as he darts his tongue out to lap at your swollen bud.

He's changed the rhythm of his fingers, going in less faster — but still fast enough to make you roll your eyes back — to go deeper instead. Your juices drip down to his knuckles and he can't believe how wet you are, especially during a hot temperature like this.

"Mmmh," you hear him mumble against your pussy, completely obsessed with it. "Your pussy's so wet, baby," he observes, circling your clit with his thumb to look at you for a second. "Taste so fucking sweet."

You know it's just dirty talk, but you have to admit it has your heart beating excitedly in your chest. He smiles at you as you're a little bit dizzy, drunk on your sexual pleasure.

"Thanks," you reply and he chuckles, finding adorable how you become a bit stupid from getting fucked by his fingers. He curls them into you and you moan out when he brushes against your magic spot, knitting your eyebrows together. "There!" You exclaim, feeling Jungkook's hot breath hitting your pussy as he tilts his head down to look at his hand.

"Right there, baby?" He repeats to make sure he has found the correct spot. You nod repeatedly when you feel the pads of his fingers patting the spongy spot inside you, the knot in your stomach tightening. "Yeah? Okay, I got you, princess," he coos and continues sensually moving his fingers in you.

He focuses on his digits, calculating every single one of his movements. Your pussy quivers around him and he understands you won't last long if he keeps going at this rhythm, but that's exactly his goal, so he continues.

Then he comes to lick at your puffy clit, left alone for too long now. You whimper when he does so, flattening his pink muscle over your bud and moving it from side to side, still pumping his big fingers in and out of your sloppy pussy.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" You whine, being so close to your orgasm. He has such a good technique that works for you, it's so hard to not fall apart as soon as he puts his mouth on you. "I'm gonna cum," you warn him, voice breathy and kind of desperate at this point.

He hums against you, sending vibrations through your body. You curl your toes as you feel it burning at the pit of your stomach, ready to rip off and send you over the edge.

"Don't stop, please," you beg him, but you don't have to worry, he has no intention of stopping, especially not when your moans sound so sweet to his ears.

You're not sure if you should cry, moan or scream. Your little brain is so confused, never been that close to an orgasm all because of a man's fingers and tongue.

Where was Jungkook all those times you couldn't make yourself cum or you were left frustrated by useless men who had absolutely no idea how a pussy worked? He really should have come sooner.

This is it, it grows rapidly in your stomach, a sensation so intense and euphoric, exploding and passing through your entire body like an avalanche. Your moans are stuck in your throat and your fingers pull harshly on Jungkook's hair, trying to not fall too far.

Your legs shake beside his head and he groans when you clench around him, sucking his fingers in, his tongue gently stroking your clit as you slowly drive off your high.

He slips out of your pussy, quickly licking his fingers clean before pulling your legs apart wider. He lowers his mouth to your quivering hole, literally making out with it and drinking your arousal out of you to satisfy his thirst.

He opens and closes his mouth on your pussy while your legs are still shaking, coming down from your previous orgasm. "Jungkook, this is too much," you say in a whiny voice, gasping softly when you feel his tongue teasing your entrance.

It's only when he hears the sound of a car parking at the front of the house that he pulls himself away from your leaking sex. You look at him, as confused as he is. He hurriedly wipes his chin with the back of his hand and he picks up your bikini bottom from the ground, handing it to you.

He stands up as you put back on your bikini. "I thought you said my dad wouldn't come back until five p.m.!" You whisper-shout at Jungkook, passing your fingers in your hair, trying to detangle it and make yourself presentable — and not like you've just received head from the hot guy your father hired to mow the lawn and maintain the pool this summer.

"Yeah, I thought so too," he answers, guilty he may have misheard what your dad said to him.

You sigh, taking your towel and your book in hand, ready to go back in the house, but before you can Jungkook grabs your arm. "Call me later, yeah?"

You look up at him, surprised he just asked you that. Does it mean he wants... more? See you in another context than at your house?

You swallow, wondering if that's what you want. You guess you never considered boys could be interested in knowing you or hanging out with you after having sex. You didn't think Jungkook would want that either.

Your attention is brought to your dad when he enters the backyard, waving at Jungkook and you. "Hey, kids!" He yells from across the yard and you can't help but roll your eyes. He walks up to you two and you wish you could escape, but you don't want to get reprimanded by your dad after.

"Hi, sir," Jungkook greets him, smiling politely. "I did the front of the house like you asked," he explains, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I've cut around the patio, too."

"That's awesome, you did a great job, Jungkook," your father nods his head, clearly a sign that he's really proud of him. "How long did it take you?"

"One hour and a half, I'd say," he answers, not really sure when he got the job done since, well, he's been a little distracted by something else.

"Good. I'll go take my wallet, I left it in the truck," he points behind him and then glances at you, giving you a tap on the back. "You enjoyed the pool, honey? You applied sunscreen, right?"

"Yes, dad," you groan. You want one thing and it's to get out of this awkward situation as soon as possible. Your father then disappears, going to take his wallet to pay Jungkook.

This one looks back at you, sweet eyes laying on you. "So?"

"I'll call you later," you confirm, not giving him time to answer and going back inside.

·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

You look around the convenience store, searching for energy drinks. When you find them, you open the fridge's door, hesitating between a Rockstar or a Monster. There aren't many flavours, but you know you definitely won't take one without sugar. You decide to settle for a Monster, Pacific Punch flavour.

Now for the food. You eye the tteokbokki, but also the spicy ramen. You should combine both. And take some for your father, too. He always has night cravings like you.

As you check the different brands of ramen, wondering which one you feel like eating the most, someone says your name.

"You didn't call me."

You turn around and your eyes widen when you see Jungkook standing in front of you. Your heartbeat accelerates and you don't know what to say.

Your plan was to hide in the house the next time he'd come, avoiding him seemingly the best idea you've thought about, but of course, he had to find you here.

You feel bad as he looks at you with disappointed eyes as if he actually thought you'd call, that you were different and not like the others. Turns out that you're not. You're exactly like them, exactly like the people who you grew up with and who you live with.

"Um, well, I..." You stammer, caught red-handed. You glance down, biting down on your lip, too much of a coward to hold Jungkook's gaze. "No, I didn't," you sigh, admitting your mistake. "I... forgot."

He only lets out a 'mh' and you're really embarrassed. Yes, it was childish of you, but you don't understand what he expected. He works for your dad, you don't go to the same university, you don't have the same circle of friends, you have nothing in common.

Yet, when you look at him, it's like he knows everything about you — every single one of your secrets and fears.

"You don't have your eyebrow piercing anymore," you comment suddenly, desperately searching for a way to make things less awkward, to redeem yourself or whatever that would make him stop looking at you like you're a bad person.

He touches his eyebrow as if to confirm his piercing's really gone. "Yeah, it was a bitch to disinfect," he shrugs and hides his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

"I really liked it," you say honestly.

The corner of his mouth tugs upward and you can't help but do the same, butterflies erupting in your stomach. "I've noticed." His eyes glint and your face heats up immediately when you understand what he's referring to.

Last time, you couldn't stop running your fingers over his face, touching his eyebrow piercing when he was kissing you. You don't know why you were doing that, but there was something that really fascinated you about it.

Fortunately, Jungkook didn't mind you touching him. He quite really enjoyed it, in fact.

When he doesn't say anything else, you quickly take two packs of ramen with the tteokbokki and your energy juice. You turn around and Jungkook's still there.

"Are you eating with someone?" He questions and he knows how it sounds, but he's only curious. If it's the reason why you didn't call, he wants you to tell him.

"Um, it's for my dad and me," you reply. "We're the kind to eat at like... one a.m.," you chuckle and he smiles at the sound of your laugh. "And you?" You ask back even though he's not holding anything other than his cellphone.

"Oh, just filling up the gas tank," he points outside where his car is parked. "But I might take a snack. Yours make me hungry."

"You should," you nod your head.

He sends you a faint smile before passing by you, walking to the other aisle. You watch him for a second, analyzing his outfit. Black baggy jeans, a graphic white hoodie and beige beanie.

You go pay for your items and it's only when you push the door that you get a glimpse of Jungkook walking up to the cashier. He doesn't see you so you exit the store, refraining yourself from looking back.

·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

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a.n.: hellooo you guys... 🤭

i had jungkook working for oc's dad in mind for likeee a long time and since it's summer, i finally found the time to write it... i have more planned for this fic (obvi because I wouldn't make it end like this 🫣), so this isn't just a drabble, it's more like a test to see if you're interested in this story. so tell me if you want it to become a lil series. ngl, i'm very insecure about this one idk why 😭 but let me know if you'd like to read a next part!

part 1: call me later ☼ part 2: call me soon ☾ part 3: call me tomorrow ☼

[beenbaanbuun]

brothers best friend w/ yunho

this isn’t proof read so sorry for any typos… i’m just too tired to do that right now 😓

you’ve been pummelling the door of your brothers apartment with the side of your fist from at least a couple of minutes now

whether he’s deciding to play a practical joke and leave you hanging is a mystery to you

you can only hope he somehow manages to grow up and let you in soon

it’s an emergency, and the strap of your overnight bag is digging into your shoulder rather painfully

“mingi, i know you’re in there,” you call as you slam the palm of your hand loudly against the wood, “let me in or i’ll tell mum you’re being a bitch!”

threats of your mother usually seem to work; it’s mingi’s fear of your younger sibling privilege, you suppose

he knows that no matter what, he’ll always be the one to blame since he’s older

a system you’ve been abusing for years, you have to admit

the door swings open after a few seconds, and you gear yourself up to give your big brother an earful for being a dick

but just as you open your mouth, you notice that the man that opened the door is in fact not mingi but his roommate and best friend instead

yunho

he’s leaning against the door frame, gaming headset around his neck and plaid pyjama pants hanging low over his hips

it would take a much stronger woman than you to avoid looking at his toned chest, so you let your eyes do a swoop over his smooth skin

“hey, kiddo,” you can hear the smirk in yunho’s voice, “what’s got you banging my door down at 10 minutes to midnight? you know my neighbours won’t appreciate this, right?”

you ignore him

“is my brother in?” yunho shakes his head before leaning himself against the door frame

the way he effortlessly towers over you even when he’s relaxed sends shivers right the way through you, all of them congregating at the apex of your thighs

trust you to be harbouring a debilitating crush on your brothers best friend…

“where is he then?” you urge

“with his latest conquest,” yunho just shrugs like it’s obvious

like you should know that your brother was busy sleeping around in your time of need

you’d gag if you didn’t have more important things on your mind; more important things like what the fuck you’re going to do now

“dammit,” you mutter before readjusting the strap of your overnight bag on your shoulder, “i was hoping he’d let me crash for the night…”

he snorts out a laugh, digging his tongue into the side of his cheek as he stares you down

“doesn’t the guy you’re fucking live like… 5 minutes away from here?”

yunho knows as well as anyone that you and taehyun are not fucking, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you just to see that angry look on your face

the way your forehead scrunches and your lips purse into a tiny little pout

holy fuck you’re adorable; what he wouldn’t do to just—

“me and tae fell out,” you spit, your voice muffled through your upset frown, “and we’re not fucking…”

yunho laughs, “not anymore, anyway.”

he dodges the kick you aim at his shins with ease, sliding to the side just in time for you to lose your balance and fall through the doorway

you catch yourself before you can faceplant in front of the man who had been single-handedly ruining your life since you first met him

god knows that the devilishly handsome man would never shut up about it if you tripped in front of him

“enjoy your trip?” he teases as he shuts the front door behind you, trapping you inside of his apartment

he makes a show of locking it before slipping the key into his pyjama pocket

it’s a clear show of dominance to let you know exactly who is in charge

you roll your eyes at him, letting him know that his performance is redundant; you’re in his apartment, of course he’s in charge

“mingi locks his door when he’s not here so you’ll have to sleep on the couch,” he points to the ratty leather thing that sits in the centre of the room

you grimace at the sight of it, knowing that this might just be the worst night sleep of your life

the pealing leather is bound to scratch at your skin, and you just know you’re going to have to peel your skin off of it when you wake up in the morning

you can’t help it when you groan in complaint

“or you can sleep in my bed,” yunho offers, that mischievous smile rising to his face again, “it’s warm and comfy; much nicer than that old thing.”

“are you just trying to get me into your bed?”

he scoffs, “i would dream of it, kid?”

he knows you hate that nickname… he says it with an arrogant look written all over his features

you want to punch that annoying hot smile right off of his annoyingly hot face, despite the fact that mingi would kill you

you want to sleep on the couch just to spite him, despite the fact that you know you’ll wake up feeling half dead

you want to leave and sleep on the cold, wet tarmac outside, despite the fact that that would be an even worse night

a deep breath of air fills your lungs and you let it out with a sigh

“i’ll sleep in your bed, but be warned; i carry pepper spray!”

again, yunho finds it a struggle to hold his laughter in

how can he when you’re so cute? so adorably naive with your little pout and your fucking pepper spray

you’re dumb to think that he can’t see the way you look at him; like he holds your entire world in the palms of his hands

if it weren’t for your brother, he might’ve done something by now

it’s hard to hit when the girl you so desperately want is your friends little sister

“i’m sure you do, sweetheart,” he hums out through his smile, “go get changed, alright? ill be in my room when you’re finished.”

you nod and drop your bag to the floor, your little hands immediately going to unzip it

he wonders what they might look like wrapped around his cock, your prettily manicured nails glittering as your fingers dance up and down his shaft

he looks away for the sake of his own sanity and slips his hands into his pockets in the hopes of hiding the tent that’s forming

god, he needs to get a grip

“bathrooms over there,” he clears his throat before continuing, “take your time; it’s not like i’m rushing to get to sleep or anything.”

and then he leaves you in the sheer hopes that turning his back on you and heading back to his PC will clear his head of all the disgusting thoughts he’s having

the gaming chair creeks under his weight as he flops down into it, slipping his headphones over his ears straight away

his finger moves over to his keyboard to unmute his discord and—

“i did not make us lose,” he hears the shrill screech of wooyoung, “if anything it’s san’s fault for not res-ing me! i was in need!”

“yeah and i had other priorities!” san scoffs, “jongho is a better player; obviously i’d res him first!”

“i can’t belie—”

“hey, yun,” jongho calls out over the argument, “i’m assuming the knocking wasn’t a mass murderer since you’re still alive.”

the other two shut up pretty quickly, both uttering their own cheerful greetings to yunho as if they weren’t at each others throats two seconds prior

yunho chuckles

“it was mingi’s sister,” he hums, “she’s in the area and needs a place to stay for the night.”

he’s met with a symphony of appreciative hums from the three of his friends; yunho had learnt a while back that he wasn’t alone in his feelings for her

“it’s so unfair that she’s off limits,” san sighs dreamily, “if i got my hands on her, even just for one night… i’d put those pretty lips to work, that’s for sure.”

san’s right, your lips are pretty; like two flower petals begging to be touched and appreciated

“sure, dude,” jongho interrupts, “her lips are pretty and all but have you seen her thighs? i’m pretty sure she could crush my skull with those things…”

“and you’d be into that?” san questions, a shocked laugh evident in his tone

“hey, don’t shame him,” wooyoung cuts in, “i’d love for a little brat like her to sit on my face; i could tease her for hours down there…”

there’s a swift knock on yunho’s bedroom door and he immediately presses deafen on his headset before sliding it off once more

his cheeks are covered in a deep red flush, his friends words echoing around his skull as he turns in his chair to watch you slip into the room

oh fuck

he can’t help the way his jaw drops, but then again, even the strongest man on the planet would have a difficult time

especially with you in those tiny little shorts

for someone who claims not to be fucking the guy you were supposed to be staying with, your outfit choice sure is… something

they’re thin and cover next to none of your thighs; jongho was right about them, yunho muses to himself

thick and plush and your flesh jiggles with every step you take towards his bed

he’d be happy to lie between them, he thinks, face in your pussy as you squeeze his head with those gorgeous limbs

he swallows the lump in his throat as you sit politely on his mattress

“i’m sorry about my shorts,” you mutter, a little self conscious with how intently yunho was staring at them, “i know they’re not really… appropriate.”

yunho shakes his head, dazed, confused and horny

“they’re perfect,” he mutters before he can realise what he’s saying, “i mean they’re fine… just fine…”

“they’re fine?” you confirm

he nods

“i mean they look comfy; that’s all that matters, right?” he shrugs nonchalantly as if he’s not thinking about how it would feel to rip the flimsy material off of you

he’s starting to regret asking you to share a bed with him

how the fuck he’s going to sleep with you laying next to him, he isn’t too sure

yunho takes a deep breath before clearing his throat

“if you want to head to sleep, i’ll be right there. i just want to play another round with the boys.”

you nod before crawling into his bed… crawling

he can’t even focus on how sweet you are when you’re obeying his every command

not when your ass is facing him and those tiny shorts are doing nothing to hide the fact that you’re clearly not wearing underwear beneath them

they cling to your sticky—holy fuck you’re wet?—core, the white material going translucent as your slick soaks into it

he can’t tear his eyes away from your hole, which he can fucking see clenching around nothing through those teeny-tiny shorts

it’s a good job he doesn’t have to; before he can lose his mind and rip those shorts from your body, you’re covering yourself with his thick quilt

the way you wrap yourself up and tuck the material between your knees would be cute if he hadn’t just had his soul destroyed by the sight of your pretty pussy

a few deep breaths, and he finds the courage to turn back around to his pc and press un-deafen once more

but even with the sounds of his friends chattering in the background, and his fingers eagerly dancing across his keyboard, he can’t help but let him mind wander to you

what you’d look like underneath him, your face all screwed up in pleasure as you beg him for more

how you’d sound when you beg him for more

how your fingers feel as they dig into the plane of his back

fuck, he’s in so deep

and the worst of it is, it’s not just fucking you that he’s daydreaming about

he wants to know what you’ll look like in the post sex glow, when he has you tucked into his chest so soft and gentle

he knows you’ll be beautiful; so soft and pliant in his arms

he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you just to see you smile and blush

he’ll press soft kisses to your lips just to make you squirm and giggle

god, he needs to be fucking sedated

a quick glance behind him lets him know that you’re asleep; good, he doesn’t want you to hear what he has to say next

“guys,” he helplessly calls out, “what the fuck am i supposed to do?”

“what do you mean?” jongho asks, “is this about mini mingi?”

mini mingi… you couldn’t be further from your brother in yunho’s eyes

he doesn’t want to fuck mingi into the sheets before helplessly confessing his love to him

“yes, this is about her,” yunho relents, “what the fuck am i supposed to do when she’s explicitly off limits?”

“fuck her,” wooyoung says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “what mingi doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“he’s my best friend,” yunho groans, sounding pathetic even to his own admission

“okay and?” wooyoung scoffs

yunho slams his head down on the desk in exasperation

it’s soft enough to not make too loud of a noise; he doesn’t want to wake you up, after all

but it’s also hard enough to let the headset slip loose from his ears

and he hears it

something that makes him perk up and rip his headset off for what seems like the hundredth time that night

no… it can’t be

“yunho…”

your voice is small from the other side of the room, but he hears it as if it’s clear as day

you moaned his name

“yunho, need it,” you whine again, every so slightly louder this time

yunho gulps as he spins his chair around to see you, jaw slack, face screwed up and hips bucking into his quilt that you’d secured between your legs

he freezes

“yuyu,” you mewl

yunho can’t help the involuntary groan that comes from his lips

it’s now or never, he decides

he shuts off his pc, not even bothering to say goodbye to his friends—they’d understand—and takes a second to compose himself

sweaty palms rub against the material of his plaid pants as he rises from his seat and takes a few tentative steps towards the bed

the floorboards creek, but it doesn’t wake you

“yu,” your voice is so sweet, he thinks to himself as he comes to a stop by the bed

a hand on your shoulder shakes your body awake, and before yunho knows it, you’re staring up at him with your big wide eyes

fuck, he’s going to destroy you

[alotofpockets]

Mini mate | Katie McCabe

Pairing: Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: Katie meets your kid for the first time, and they have an instant connection.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k

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You were falling for Katie more and more after every date you had been on together. Besides her busy schedule, and your life with a toddler, you have managed to go on quite a few dates over the past two months. When you told her you had a child, and wanted to take things slow, she understood and respected that right away. Overall Katie had been great, and you loved the time you got to spend together.

Today you were out for lunch with your now girlfriend of a week, while your next door neighbour watched your son. Being a single mother, without any support from your family was hard in the beginning, but when Linda from next door had found out you were raising your boy alone, she had offered to watch him as often as she could. She was retired, and loved children. You had found a quick friend in the older woman, and honestly she was a lifesaver. 

You were a couple bites into your lunch when your phone rang, you looked down at the screen and saw your neighbour's name on the screen. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It could be about Jake.” Katie nods, “Yeah, of course.” You pick up the call, “Hi Linda, is everything okay?” On the other side of the line Linda responds, “Yes dear, little Jakey is doing just fine, don’t you worry. It’s just that I am afraid that I have double booked myself sweetheart, I have to be somewhere in half an hour, and I’m afraid I can’t take him with me.” You relax your shoulders when you realise that your son is alright. “Alright, I will be right there then. Thank you for calling.” Katie had already flagged down a waiter to pack your food as doggy bags. “My neighbour got something mixed up, so I have to go pick up Jake. I’m sorry for having to cut our date short.” She shook her head in response, “Don’t worry about it, darling. The waiter is just bagging up our food, and then I’ll drive you home, okay?” 

On the way home you were thinking how kind, and understanding Katie had been, something you weren’t all that used to. Your heart only warmed at the way she had treated you, which got you thinking. “How would you feel about meeting Jake?” You asked when you were almost back to your place. “I would love to meet him, but only if you’re ready for me to. There is no rush on my end.” Her answer made you smile, she was always making sure you were okay. “Yeah, I am.” 

Katie parks the car, and the two of you walk into your home. After putting away your lunch in the fridge you walk up to Katie. “Do you mind waiting here for a moment, while I pick him up? I want to give him a little heads up that someone else will be at home.” Again Katie was very understanding, and told you it was all good. So, you head next door. “Hi sweetheart.” Linda greets you when she opens the door. “Again, I am so sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin your date with the lovely lady.” You shake your head at the woman, “No need to apologise, I promise. And the lovely lady is actually sitting on the couch, waiting to meet Jake.” Linda brings you in for a hug, “Oh dear, I am so happy for you.” Linda had been a close friend of yours over the years, and had heard all about your growing liking of the woman you had been dating. 

You put Jake down, and start walking around to gather his stuff. “Did you have fun with Linda?” He nodded his head excitedly, he had been doing that a lot recently, and you loved his new adorable habit. “I play twains!” You sit him down on the couch, to put his shoes on. “That’s great baby, I’m glad you had fun.” You placed a kiss on his forehead once both his shoes were on. “There is someone waiting at home that I would love for you to meet. Are you ready to go?” He nodded again. “Okay, let's go then.” 

Once Linda lets go of you, you hear little footsteps running your way. “Mommy.” The boy says full of excitement, he keeps running and jumps into your arms. “Hi kiddo, I missed you.” You pepper his cheeks with kisses. A car horn sounds outside, “Sorry honey, I have to leave, can you close up when you leave?” You nod, “Thank you, Linda. Have a good day!” 

With Jake's hand in yours, you enter your home. Having Katie meet Jake was a big deal, and you were slightly nervous. You really liked Katie, and her and Jake getting along was very important to you. 

Katie was sitting on the couch, and waved to Jake who was shyly hiding behind your leg. “Hi buddy, my name is Katie.” Her kind smile, and soft voice made Jake move out from behind you. “Hi Kawie” Your heart melted at the way he pronounced her name. Jake let go of your hand and walked towards Katie, holding his bunny up to her. “What a cute bunny you have there, buddy. What's your bunny's name?” He hugged the bunny to his chest again, “Benny.” Katie smiled, “Benny the bunny, I like that.” 

The boy yawned, and started rubbing his eyes. “Hey kiddo, it's nap time. Can you pick out a book?” Your home was full of books for the toddler, and you loved giving him the freedom of choosing which story you would read before bed. He came back with a book in one hand and his bunny in the other, and walked straight up to Katie. “This one pwease.” Your fears of the two not getting along instantly fade away, when you see him reach up his arms for Katie to pick him up. She sat him on his lap and started reading the book to him, pointing at all the animals the book talked about. You snapped a quick picture, while watching the heartwarming scene in front of you.

When you came back downstairs after putting Jake down, Katie had plated your packed lunches from the restaurant, and had set the table. “You are amazing,” You say when her eyes meet yours. “and you were so great with him.” A tear escaped your, and you quickly wiped it away, but Katie had noticed. “Come here, darling.” She brings you in for a hug, and rubs her hand over your back soothingly. “I'm sorry, I've just been so worried about the two of you not getting along, and seeing him just walk up to you with his book, that meant so much.” She smiles and moves you so she can look at you. “Don't you ever apologise for that. You are a great mom, and I am so grateful that you wanted me to meet him.”

While Jake was down for his nap, you and Katie settled on the couch, cuddled up together while watching some TV. That was until you heard Jake start talking over the babyphone, letting you know that he woke up from his nap. You place a kiss on Katie’s lips before you get up. “I'll be right back.” 

“Kawieee” Your son runs to her the moment he notices that she is still there. She picks him up and twirls him around, “Hi my mini mate, did you have a good nap?” He does his excited nodding, as a response, and giggles when Katie tickles his belly. 

“Mini mate?” You ask once she has put him in his highchair for his post nap snack. “Yeah I call all my friend's mate, so he's my mini mate.” You laugh, “It's cute. I like it.”

Katie came over more often after that, the bond between the two of them only started to grow, and you couldn't help but fall in love with Katie over the next few weeks. Katie would be staying the night for the first time, you had stayed the night at her place before, but never at your place with Jake at home too. Jake was actually over the moon that Katie would be able to read his nighttime story, and help tuck him in. 

Once you got back downstairs you plopped down on the couch. Katie had gotten Jake a small Arsenal ball, and the three of you had been kicking it around in the backyard for a good part of the afternoon, so you were pretty tired. “You know how I was so worried for the two of you not to get along?” Katie moves her fingers through your hair and hums. “Well, I couldn't have been more wrong. He really loves you, you know?” She nods, noticing that you weren't done with what you were wanting to say. “I do too. Love you, I mean.” You were getting nervous, and messing up what you wanted to say, so you started again. “I love you Katie.” She smiles and moves her hand to your cheek. “I love you too y/n.” She pulls you in closer and kisses you. The kiss was soft, but at the same time it was filled with passion. 

A few weeks later you found yourself in the stands at Meadow Park along with Jake and Linda, cheering on Katie for the first time. Before the match started Katie had found you in the crowd and waved in your direction. Jake started excitedly waving back once you pointed her out.

You had watched Katie play on TV a couple of times since you had started dating, but never before had you experienced the game in such an environment. The crowd cheered and sang chants the whole time, it was truly amazing how much support the team got.

Arsenal won the match, and after she finished signing jerseys and posters, and taking pictures with fans, she made her way over to you. “You played so well. Good job captaining the team!” She brought you into a hug. “Thank you baby.” She hugged Jake next, and lastly she greeted Linda with a hug as well. “Kawie.” Jake said, making grabby hands towards her. She takes him from where you were holding him on the railing, “Did you and Benny like the football match?” Jake hugs Benny tight to his chest, “Yesss.” He adorably drags out the ‘s’. 

“Katie!” Is being called from behind her, “Katie, can you come here for a moment?” Katie sends her teammate a thumbs up, letting her know that she would be right there. “Duty calls.” She tries to hand Jake back to you, but he holds on tight. “Mini mate, I have to go for a bit, but I promise I will be right back.” She tries again, but to no avail. “Me with Kawie.” Katie looks up to you, “Do you mind if I take him with me on the pitch?” You shake your head, “Go for it. Jakey, listen very well to Katie, okay?’ You ruffle his hair before you let them go, and start your conversation with Linda back up. “You found a good one, honey, I can see how much she loves the both of you just from her eyes.” You blush at her words, she had always been very truthful with her words, even when they weren’t what you wanted to hear, so hearing her say that meant a lot. 

The team was waiting for Katie to do their post match team huddle to recap on the match through the eyes of Jonas. Once Katie joined, Jonas started talking right away, so no one had time to question Katie joining the huddle with a kid on her hip. At the end of the speech, Katie was the one to announce, “Team on three.” After which everyone put their hands in the middle, Jake wanted to join and put his hand on top of the rest of the girls. “Team!” The group said before moving out again. Though, some of the girls stick around. Katie was tickling Jake’s belly, pulling loud giggles from the toddler's mouth. “Who is this little guy?” Viv asked, tickling the boy’s belly as well. “This is my mini mate. Can you tell Viv your name, buddy?” The boy was loving all the attention. “Jake.” Katie smiles and holds her hand up to give him a high five, “Good job, buddy.” She then moves her focus back to her teammates surrounding her, “He’s my girlfriend's kid.” This piqued the interest of her teammates even more. “Your girlfriend is here?” Beth asked, and Vic quickly followed with, “Can we meet her?”

You watched from the stands as Katie was twirling Jake around, and walking back towards you with a few of her teammates. “Hi darling, they wanted to come meet you. This is Viv, Beth, and Vic.” She introduced them one by one. “It’s very nice to meet you, and good game by the way.” Katie sets Jake down on the ground, and starts softly kicking a ball to him, like you had done together in the backyard. He was loving all the attention he was getting from the girls, while you were getting to know Katie’s teammates. 

Katie had often talked about her teammates being like family, and the way they were interacting with your son, made you see that right away. You looked at the group of girls playing with him, and the big smile on his face, and in that moment you realised that your little family was going to be expanding over the next couple of months, in the form of lots of aunties. 

Jake was happily running around with Beth and Viv, a few steps away from you, when Katie joined you, both keeping an eye on the little boy. “What are you thinking, darling?” She says while wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “Just that I love you, and seeing him happy means the world to me.” You both smile at the giggling toddler. “I love you too. Beth and Viv asked if the three of us would like to join them for dinner tonight.” Katie turns to Linda, “You were invited too, of course, I just know you already have plans tonight.” Linda waves her off, “Don’t worry about me, honey, you kids have fun.” 

Katie kisses you before she heads down to the locker rooms, “I’ll see at the car.” You walk out of the stadium with Jake on your hip and Linda by your side. “Did you have fun, little Jakey?” Linda asks. His excited nods once again making an appearance. “Kawie and Beffy and Vivi play ball.” His pronunciation of their names brings a smile to your face. “Guess what kiddo, we’re going to see them later too.” His eyes widen before he hugs his body closer to yours, which you took as a sign that he was excited for it too.

-----

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[allthelovehes]

The Author*

Summary: You just moved into your new apartment and your new neighbour turns out to be the author of the smutty book you're currently reading.

Pairing: Author/Neighbour!Harry x Reader

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings: Smut, basically strangers, it's cute tho.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

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The first few weeks of living in your new apartment were, thankfully, relatively uneventful. You had managed to find a new job and keep your finances balanced, and the building you were in seemed to be relatively clean and well-maintained, and you'd never seen anyone who you thought would have a problem with you.

You travel back and forth between work by bus, not really feeling the need to have a car in the big city. Plus it gives you the perfect opportunity to read a good book, something you love but always slips in the cracks of your busy life.

It's the last day of work before your weekend, and you're on the bus home deep into a chapter of the book you're reading, everything is going perfectly fine. You're excited for the weekend as you still have a few boxes to unpack and some cleaning and organization that needs to get done.

You've been so into the book you're reading, that when you realize the bus just drove past your usual stop, you're shocked.

“Oh, shit.” You mutter under your breath as you try to think of what to do. You could just walk the few blocks back to your stop, the weather is fine anyway. You press the button, the bus comes to a halt at the next stop and you step off, thanking the driver for the ride. You begin walking, a tote on your shoulder and the book still in hand.

The streets aren't busy, it's not a particularly busy part of the city, and it's a beautiful afternoon. The sun is shining and there is a slight breeze, but not too much. You can hear the birds chirping and see the small kids playing in the nearby park, all in all a nice day.

You reach your building after a few minutes of walking, and the front door is unlocked and ajar, so you let yourself in and start to head towards the stairwell. When you reach the right floor, you spot your neighbour coming out of their apartment, the one you had seen the first night you'd arrived.

He was tall, much taller than you, and wearing a t-shirt that clung to his form nicely, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal a collection of tattoos that ran all the way down to his hands. His hair was curly and looked incredibly soft and you wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it. His jaw was chiselled, sporting a stubble. He looked good, really good.

“Hey.” He says, his voice deep and smooth, and you can't help but notice the accent he has. “I haven't seen you around before, are you the new neighbour?”

“Yeah, I moved in a couple of weeks ago.” You reply. “My name is Y/N.”

“It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Harry.” He extends a hand and you shake it. You notice the rings on his fingers, they're large, but not tacky, and they suit him. He looks at the book in your other hand and chuckles, “A reader, eh?”

“Yeah, I've always loved reading, and this one is really good, I've been wanting to finish it, so I'm glad I missed my stop, I was so deep into the story I hadn't even noticed.” You chuckle and it's then when Harry notices what book you have in hand, his book.

“Hey, wait a second. You're reading my book!” He points at the cover.

“Oh, you wrote this? Well, now I feel kinda embarrassed.” You say, laughing, trying to hide the embarrassment and your blushing cheeks. The story is based around quite a few explicit sex scenes, and you're hoping he won't bring it up.

“I'm just messing with ya. I'm actually quite flattered.” He chuckles.

You talk for a few more minutes and then go on your way. He is funny and kind, and his smile is one that you know you would kill to see. His eyes are bright, and you love the way his curls move when he laughs.

As you make your way to your apartment, you're smiling to yourself, thinking about how good-looking your new neighbour is. He seems kind and easy-going, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to spend more time with him.

When you get to your apartment, you drop your things, kick off your shoes and throw yourself onto your sofa. You sigh and close your eyes, taking a moment to process the day, and what just happened.

Knowing the man who came up with those incredible sex scenes was living right across the hall from you, is driving you absolutely wild. You're not sure why you're reacting the way you are, you have no business thinking about him like that. But he's just so fucking hot, and his accent, and his body, and the way his arms looked...

You feel your skin begin to heat up, and a tingling between your legs, and before you even realise, your hand is down the front of your jeans. You start touching yourself, and all you can think of is him, and the words he has written. Your breathing becomes heavier and you close your eyes, imagining him doing these things to you, his lips and hands exploring your body.

You're abruptly ripped from your fantasy by a knock on the door, and you jump and scramble to pull your hand from your pants.

“Fuck.” You hiss under your breath, and run your fingers through your hair, trying to get it to look presentable. You look through the peephole in the door and your eyes widen, there stands Harry, and he's holding a bottle of wine. You take a deep breath and open the door, trying to appear as composed as possible.

“Oh, hi.” You say, smiling, but you're nervous. “What can I do for you, Harry?”

“Hey, Y/N, I just came to drop off some wine.” He seems nervous. “I figured since you're new it'd be a nice thing to do.”

“That's very sweet of you, thank you.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” He turns and starts to walk back to his own apartment.

“Harry, wait!” You shout, and he turns back to face you.

“Yes, love?” His British accent thick.

“Do you want to come in? I'll pour us some wine.”

“Yeah, that'd be lovely.” He follows you into the apartment. You take the wine from him and pour two glasses. You hand him the glass and sit down next to him, making sure to keep some distance between you.

You chat for a while, sipping your wine, and you find yourself enjoying his company. He tells you about his writing and how he's working on another book, and that he's glad that you've enjoyed the one he already published. You tell him about yourself, about how much you love to read, and he tells you he'll send you copies of the other books he has published.

The wine is flowing, and so is the conversation. Harry is really nice, and you find yourself wanting to spend more time with him. The bottle is empty and your cheeks are flushed, but not just from the alcohol.

“Well, I should probably head home.” Harry says, and the disappointment is evident on your face.

“No, don't leave yet.” You protest, and his eyes lock with yours. “I'm enjoying your company.”

“Well, alright. I can stay a bit longer.” He says, smiling.

You're not sure why, but you feel compelled to lean forward and kiss him. Maybe it's the wine, or the fact that he's just so fucking hot, or the stories and sex scenes in the book he had written. You're not sure, but something is driving you crazy, and you need him. Your lips crash against his, and it takes a moment for him to register what's happening. But when he kisses back, your heart flutters and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults.

You pull away and stare at him for a moment, and he looks at you with a mixture of lust and surprise in his eyes.

“Sorry.” You mutter. “I shouldn't have-“

He cuts you off by leaning in and kissing you again, this time deeper, and more passionate. His tongue finds its way into your mouth and your tongues collide, tasting each other. He pulls away and stares into your eyes, his lips slightly swollen and a smirk on his face.

“You're a good kisser.” He whispers.

“So are you.” You reply, a smile spreading across your lips.

He leans back in, kissing you more roughly than before, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. He begins trailing kisses down your neck and jawline, eliciting small whimpers and moans from you. He makes his way down your collarbones and chest, then moves back up to your ear.

“Y/N.” He whispers. “May I take this off?”

“Please.” You reply, almost begging. He grabs the bottom of your shirt and pulls it over your head, revealing the lacy bra underneath. He stares at your breasts for a moment, drinking them in, before he dives down and sucks at the exposed skin. He moves to your other breast and does the same, and his other hand begins to unbutton his own shirt.

He removes his shirt, revealing his tattoos, and you can't help but stare. He has a slim yet muscular frame, and his arms are toned and strong. You trace the ink on his chest and torso with your fingers, and he watches your reaction with a smirk.

He stands up and grabs your waist, picking you up and setting you on the kitchen island. He leans down and kisses you again, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You can feel his erection through his jeans, and it's big, really big. You can't help but let out a moan at the thought of him fucking you with that monster.

He reaches around and unclasps your bra, pulling it off and exposing your breasts. He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at it, while his hand plays with the other. You throw your head back and moan, grabbing at his curls and tugging slightly. He lets out a groan and grinds his hips against yours, and you can feel his cock harden even more.

“Harry.” You moan. “I want you.”

He removes his mouth from your breast and looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust.

“Are you sure, love?” He asks, his accent sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, please.” You beg, and he smirks. You're so eager and it's making him impossibly harder. He undoes his belt and his pants fall to the floor. You stare at his cock hiding in his black boxers, and your mouth waters. It's long and thick, and you know that it's going to feel amazing. He pulls off his boxers, and his cock springs free, standing proudly.

He grabs your jeans and tugs them down, revealing the matching pair of lace panties. He groans as he looks at you, and his fingers hook under the fabric, pulling them down your legs.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking beautiful.” He breathes, taking in the sight of you. You're completely naked and exposed in front of him, and he can't help but marvel at how perfect you are. He leans in and kisses you, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him close. He grinds his hips against yours, his cock rubbing against your wetness. He's teasing you, and it's driving you insane.

“Harry, please.” You whine, and he smirks.

“Please, what?” He teases, continuing his slow grinding.

“Please fuck me.”

He groans and searches for his wallet, finding a condom. He slides it on and lines his cock up with your entrance, pushing in slowly. He fills you up completely, and you cry out, arching your back. He lets you adjust to his size before he starts moving. He sets a slow and steady pace, and you're moaning and whimpering.

“Fuck, Harry.” You gasp. “You're so big.”

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He groans. He thrusts his hips, his cock sliding in and out of you. You reach down and begin rubbing your clit, and the extra stimulation has you seeing stars. No wonder the smut in his books is good, the man himself knows exactly what he's doing.

His pace quickens and his breathing becomes laboured. He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing the sounds that escape your mouth. He picks you up from the countertop and carries you over to the sofa, never breaking his rhythm. He lays you down and continues pounding into you, and you can feel the pressure building.

“Harry, I'm so close.” You moan, and he reaches down to rub your clit.

“Come for me, baby.” He growls, and that's all it takes for you to come undone. You scream his name and arch your back as the orgasm rips through you. He keeps his pace, thrusting harder and faster, prolonging your pleasure.

When you come down from your high, he pulls out and grabs your legs, flipping you onto your stomach. He positions himself behind you and pushes back in, causing you both to moan. His hands grip your hips and he begins pounding into you, and his grunts fill the room.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking tight.” He groans, his voice thick with lust.

“Oh, god, Harry.” You moan. The sound of skin slapping skin and the scent of sex fills the air. He reaches around and starts rubbing your clit, and the pleasure is almost too much for you to handle. He thrusts his hips, filling you completely.

“Come for me again, love.” He commands.

“Yes, Harry, fuck.” You cry out, your walls tightening around his cock. You know that anyone passing by your apartment would definitely hear the sounds of sex, but you don't care. The only thing that matters is the feeling of him inside you.

You come undone once more, and he fucks you through your orgasm. He moans, his thrusts becoming erratic. You turn him on so much, he never wants to stop fucking you. His cock slides out of you and he pulls you back up, turning you around to face him.

“I want you to ride me, love.” He growls, his voice deep and rough. You straddle him, your wetness coating his cock. He positions himself at your entrance and you slide down, moaning as he fills you again. You start moving, your hips rocking against his.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He moans, and his hands grip your hips, guiding you. Your pace quickens and you can feel yourself getting close again. You look at him and his eyes are filled with lust and desire, and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.

Harry's lips crash into yours and his hands tangle in your hair. He breaks the kiss and his mouth moves to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. You let out a string of curses and he groans against your neck. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He nibbles and sucks on it, and his tongue swirls around it.

“Fuck, Harry.” You moan.

“Do you like that, love?” He asks, looking up at you with dark eyes.

“Yes, fuck, yes.” You reply, your voice wavering.

He continues his assault on your breasts, switching from one to the other. Your breathing is heavy and you can feel the pressure building again.

“Harry, I'm so close.” You breathe.

“Me too, baby. Come for me.” He growls, his fingers rubbing your clit. The combination of his cock filling you his mouth on your nipples and his fingers stroking your clit sends you over the edge, and you scream his name, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Your walls clench around his cock and he loses it, his thrusts become more erratic, and his breathing is laboured. He moans your name, and the sound is like music to your ears. He comes hard, and his cock pulses inside you.

You both collapse, breathing heavily. Your heart is racing and you can't believe what just happened. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You lie there in his arms, trying to catch your breath, the scent of sex and sweat filling the air.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Harry says, breaking the silence. “That was incredible.”

“Mhm, you're far better than your books.”

“Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it.” He chuckles. You snuggle into his arms, and he holds you tight. You've never felt so safe and secure in someone's arms, and you know that you're already falling for him.

[starleska]

The Nightmare Picnic - Wally Darling x Reader

You're a brand new resident in the wonderful Welcome Home Neighbourhood, and it's the perfect day for the picnic! But your dear friend Wally Darling doesn't seem to be enjoying the fun. What will happen when you decide to try and cheer him up?

content warnings for: eye imagery, scopophobia, hypnosis, impossible physics, Eldritch, and unreality. go in assuming that Wally is a weird little guy, and you’re both terrified of and kind of enjoy that fact! 😉 you can also find this fic on my AO3. i hope you enjoy!! 

The day you learn how to love Wally Darling begins like any other.

It is a balmy day, the air soft and thick and dizzy with butterflies. The sun shines with relentless cheer, and nary a cloud can be seen in the sky. Such a day in the Neighbourhood cannot be spent languishing inside, and all your new neighbours think the same way. So, which lovely activity did they decide upon? Why, a picnic on the grass, of course!

The organisation of the event is efficient and cheerful. In no time, the lush meadow surrounding the outskirts of the Neighbourhood is replete with cosy blankets to lie on, fun games to play, and a plethora of delicious foods contributed by each neighbour. Luckily, you’d baked a whole tray of cupcakes the previous day, with the intent of handing them out when bumping into your neighbours going about their daily business. The cupcakes were a huge success; even the ever-curmudgeonly Frank, who always has something to complain about, graces you with a begrudging, “It’s good, I suppose,” when you hand him a vanilla cupcake topped with a green-icing butterfly.

'I needed this,’ you think as you look around at your new friends. You’ve only been a resident of the Neighbourhood for a few months, but in that time you’ve grown so close to its colourful cast of neighbours as if you’d known each other your whole lives. Right now, they’re dotted across the meadow, smiling and laughing without a care in the world: Howdy’s busy putting together an impossibly long string of daisy chains; Eddie and Sally peer into an origami fortune-teller and giggle at the results; Frank leans over a bush, studying a caterpillar, and Julie and Poppy clap and cheer whilst Barnaby entertains them with a juggling act.

It’s a gorgeous scene. Today, your heart is warm.

A small flash of yellow catches your eye. Of course, it’s an incomplete picture. You take in Wally, who sits cross-legged under the shade of a verdant apple tree. He’s holding an apple between both hands and staring at it intently, as if willing the fruit to communicate with him. It’s an odd expression - you aren’t used to seeing Wally in a state of concentration.

“Hey, Wally!” you call.

Wally looks up at you and smiles. He beckons you over.

“Hello,” says Wally, in his simple way. “I’m happy to see you.”

Oh, what a beautiful voice. Every time you hear Wally speak, it’s like the gentle lapping of his syllables sweep away your worries in a single wave.

As you get closer to Wally, you notice a few strands of his deep blue hair turning flyaway and giving in to the heat, curling away from the otherwise-immaculate pompadour and escaping the death-grip of his hairspray. He’s a little dishevelled elsewhere, too; Wally’s neckerchief is coming loose, and though he’s long since abandoned his cardigan, a stray button on his shirt remains stubbornly popped. You find yourself grinning. Wally takes such pride in his appearance that you never get to see him a little less than perfect.

“Same to you!” you say. “Aren’t you hungry? All the food’s down with the others.”

That unusually pensive look on Wally’s face deepens. He turns his eyes back to his apple. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” You rummage in your backpack and pull out a chocolate bar. “You’ve got to eat, bud. You not feeling so good?”

Wally takes the treat from you and examines it for a moment, as if the bar is a scientific curiosity. “That’s very nice of you…but this doesn’t work for me. You should keep it.”

When Wally hands the bar back, your fingers touch for the briefest moment, and a shiver works its way up your spine.

You don’t know when this… thing you have for Wally Darling began. Despite the countless nights you’ve spent desperately trying to focus on something, anything else, your thoughts inevitably return to the little yellow puppet-man and his catlike smile. There’s a strange magnetism to Wally which befits his profession as a television host; everything from the delicate way he handles his paintbrush, to his ridiculous affinity for apples, leaves you with a little more fondness than before. Wally has so much affection stored in one small body, and when you first met, you wondered how any person could love so much all at once.

But now, when you look at Wally, you understand.

“If you’re sure.” You pop the bar back into your bag and sit on the ground in front of Wally, mirroring his cross-legged pose. “The offer’s still there.”

“It’s tempting,” says Wally, now turning his apple over and over in his hands. “I’d like to know what would happen, if I tried. But Barnaby told me it isn’t worth the risk. I trust him to know.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, but the look on Wally’s face is so uncharacteristically brooding that you don’t feel it’s polite to pry. Wally’s always been the drifting sort: those large, dewy eyes of his are perpetually lidded, and always seem to be gazing at something no one else can see. But Wally’s inattentiveness is usually matched with an infectious, excited kind of energy, bursting with nonsense and love.

Today, he almost looks sad. The idea makes you feel sick.

It occurs to you that this may be a personal issue, and Wally doesn’t know you well enough to discuss it. So you ask, “Do you want me to look away?”

Wally’s fingers still. To your surprise, the apple actually drops from his hands and rolls into the grass. You’ve never seen Wally mistreat an apple before - there must be something seriously wrong.

“Actually,” says Wally, now looking at you properly, “I’d like to try something.”

He gestures for you to shuffle closer. When you do, Wally reaches forward and takes hold of your forearms. You make a surprised noise, but Wally squeezes you, and fixes you with a smile full of reassurance and warmth. A rush of heat leaps into your cheeks, and you’re suddenly reminded of an interaction you had with another neighbour not too long ago.

It was only a week after you arrived in the Neighbourhood, and you were finally moving the last of your belongings into your home. All of your new neighbours had graciously donated their time to help you in some fashion, and you were overcome with gratitude. On that final day you were more than capable of doing the rest of the moving yourself, but your closest neighbour - the excitable Julie Joyful - volunteered to help with the last handful of delicate items. At first, you were unsure - Julie is a lovely girl and incredibly fun to be around, but so spirited that you feared for the safety of your items. But a good twenty minutes of allowing her to help with the least fragile of your boxes allayed all your fears: Julie moves with the grace of a ballerina, and the two of you soon had all your boxes stacked in your living room.

Burnt orange sunlight poured through the window, streaming soon-to-be-dusk and casting the wooden floorboards with a vibrant glow. You take a moment from the heavy lifting to look out the window. Across the lawn, you can make out a couple of your neighbours engaging in some game. Upon closer inspection, you realise it’s Wally and Barnaby, the former laughing and tossing a series of colourful balls for Barnaby to catch.

You watched as Wally swung his arm and threw a few of the balls a surprising distance, letting the large, spotted dog race off to retrieve them. Wally put his hands on his hips, as if exhausted by the exertion. He turned - and locked eyes with you. Wally’s face broke out into a huge grin, and he gave you a hearty wave. Feeling horribly embarrassed, you waved back, trying to ignore the painful squeezing of your heart. You’ve only known Wally a week, and yet you’re utterly charmed by everything he does.

A tug on your arm brought you back to the present: it’s Julie. She bats her long eyelashes at you, a knowing smile on her face.

“You like hiiiiim, ” she teased, her voice all sing-song.

“What?!”

You grabbed Julie by the shoulders and yanked her away from the window, as if Wally could somehow hear you both through sight. “No! I don’t know where you got an idea like that-”

“It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t need to pretend.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. You’d always been the careful type, ensuring your innermost thoughts and feelings stayed stuffed as far down as possible to keep you safe. But the Neighbourhood bred a kind of emotional honesty with which you were totally unfamiliar. Everyone is so exuberant, always wearing their hearts on their sleeves - some of them even literally, as plenty of your new neighbours wore outfits stitched with cute little hearts! Keeping a secret in the Neighbourhood felt wrong…even a secret crush on the silly little artist whose smile lit up your insides.

So, you give in. “How did you know?”

Julie giggles. She fishes in the pocket of her dress, and pulls out a daisy.

“I know a lot about flowers,” she explained, as she twirled the stem between her fingers. “What kinds grow in different meadows. How much sun and water and love they need to grow. They show it in their petals, and how they lean. People are a lot like that too.

“When you arrived, you looked…wilted. Like you’d been kept out of the sun for too long. I could see it, but didn’t want to ask why. I think everyone else could, too…and we all wanted to help a new friend who lost their colour.”

“You’ve all been so lovely to me,” you said, by way of thanks.

Julie nodded. “Sure we have! And it worked, for a little bit. But for a flower at the end of its days, even fresh soil, plenty of sun and lots of water can only do so much. Your petals seemed faded for good. And that’s okay. I just wanted you to be happy - whatever that looks like for you.”

You swallowed. “You see a lot, for a gardener.”

Julie smiled. “When you care for flowers, you learn to listen to their needs. Sometimes, you’ll have a flower who has everything in the world…but they’re still curling up, and shying away from the light.”

She pressed the daisy into your palm.

“Wally brings the colour back to your petals,” said Julie. “Do yourself a favour. Don’t hide from your sun.”

Another squeeze from Wally brings you out of your recollection. You suck in a deep breath, facing this new reality of Wally holding you, his fingers pleasantly warm and fuzzy.

“Close your eyes,” says Wally gently.

For anyone else, you would’ve paused - but for Wally, you comply immediately.

Slowly, you feel Wally’s hands slide down your arms to your hands. He threads his fingers through yours and holds them firm, so tight that you start to feel your blood thrumming from the pressure. Your hearing, sensitive now your sight is compromised, picks up the distant chatter of your neighbours, as well as the friendly sounds of nature at play. Your skin tingles, sweat-slicked from the heat and the nerves.

“I have a question,” says Wally, his voice wonderfully calm and soft.

“Yes?”

“Why do you eat?”

“Uh…” What kind of question was that? Wally is admittedly prone to posing questions that only a truly strange mind would think up, but this one is so baffling, you’re thrown entirely for a loop. “...So I don’t die, I guess?”

“Ha ha ha ha!” Wally’s unique, halting laugh almost startles you into opening your eyes. “You’re so funny. Okay. Do you know why I eat?”

This time, it takes you a little longer to answer. A simple enough question, surely with the exact same answer? But Wally’s voice has taken on a teasing, knowing edge - a sound you recognise from when he’s setting up a punchline. The question must be a trick. So you rack your brains, trying to think of all the times you’d seen Wally eat: where he was, what he was eating.

With your eyes still closed, you reach a strange realisation.

“I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat.”

A soft chuckle from Wally. “That’s right. You haven’t.”

Wally’s grip on your hand tightens. Strangely, a weak, static noise buzzes to life, seemingly from inside your skull. You shift, trying to locate the source, but Wally holds you in place. As the noise grows, the sounds of your friends fizzle out and die. It’s as if you’ve been placed on an invisible train and are moving steadily down the track, away from all the familiar sounds of your Neighbourhood - but you can’t feel the rumbling of the track, or hear the whistle of the wind.

“But…maybe you should.”

With Wally’s words the temperature noticeably drops, and gooseflesh breaks out on your arms. You shudder, wanting to open your eyes but finding that you can’t: your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. You’re stuck in place, pinioned to the grass (which you can no longer feel) as that buzzing sound inches up by the decibel, a nasty, steady crawl which leaves your brain awash in a sea of noise.

“Open your eyes.”

You do so.

And you can’t make sense of what you see.

The sky is gone. The tree is gone. The meadow is gone. Every detail from the Neighbourhood’s comforting landscape has evaporated, leaving nothing behind but a grayscale emptiness which fuzzes in and out like television static. Even the awful buzzing sound abruptly falls away, leaving your ears with nothing but the distant sound of an unseen tide.

Wally still sits in front of you, his hands grasping yours, but it’s like he’s sitting on nothing at all: somehow supported by a cushion of emptiness. It’s like the texture of the world has fallen out of reality.

Seized by vertigo, you tighten your grip on Wally’s hands. “What’s happening?!”

“Don’t worry,” says Wally. “You’re safe.”

“There’s nothing here,” you whisper. “Where is everyone?”

“Back Home,” says Wally. “They can’t see us right now. They’re not ready.” His smile turns coy. “But I think you are. Watch this.”

Wally reaches over and rustles in your backpack. Your heart crawls into your mouth; although you can see Wally’s hands in front of you, you can somehow still feel his hands holding both of yours, keeping you locked in place. You try to look down and make sense of this impossibility, but your eyes are stuck, glued to Wally’s face. You can only watch, terrified, as he takes out your chocolate bar and locks in his gaze.

Without warning, Wally’s eyes flare open, heavy lids drawing back and revealing the full size of his large, black pupils. Wally’s stare travels steadily down the chocolate bar, a focused intensity searing from his eyes like a laser. Somehow as he stares, bite marks are chunked out of the chocolate, as if some great invisible person is taking enormous chomps out of both the bar and wrapper. In seconds, the chocolate is gone.

Panic grips your chest, and you start to hyperventilate. The world tilts, and you’re scared you might actually puke. Wally blinks, his eyelids half-blanketing those pupils once more, and he looks at you with concern. When his eyes connect, your chest convulses with panic: a type of terror you’ve never experienced before threatening to claw its way out of your body and devour you whole.

“What happened?!”

“Oh, don’t be scared,” says Wally, his voice floating and cloudlike. “This is just how I eat.”

“How - did you - do - that?” you gasp.

“I’m not sure. I’ve always eaten this way.” Wally inclines his head in sympathy. “I am sorry if I’ve made you afraid. I usually only eat when others are blinking. That way, I don’t interrupt them. I don’t want to be rude."

You suck in a huge gulp of breath. “Wally, this is…impossible,” you manage. “I want to leave - I want to go Home-”

“You can’t.”

Wally shakes his head mildly from side to side, but his eyes seem to stay still, locked into the centre of his face. No matter how much you strain to move, those incredible eyes remain right in front of you, always at the same distance, never looking away - and never blinking. In your peripheral vision, you see Wally’s hand reach up towards your face. He cups your cheek. The sensation of feeling three arms belonging to a two-armed person on your body sends a rush of nausea through your throat. Wally strokes your skin with his thumb.

“You understand me so well,” says Wally. “You see me, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand.” Another wave of dizziness rises up, pushing behind your eyeballs. The sensation is the same as the pressure of allergies arising on a high pollen day - yet you can no longer smell the flowers of the meadow. You try again in vain to rip your gaze away from Wally’s, but you can’t - and you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

Wally’s thumb stops, resting in the dip of your cheek. “I love my friends, but they only see one part of me. The part they want to see. But you…”

His thumb trails to the edge of your lip.

“...you see all of me.”

You’re split in two. Your brain, the logical part of your thinking, is screaming at you to do anything - to move, to scream, to run as fast as you can into the nightmare emptiness and beg for help. But the other part of you - your traitorous, emotional heart - douses the runaway fire of your fear with the intoxication of Wally’s touch. You find yourself leaning into his hand, savouring how perfectly his cheek cups your palm, and the slight fuzz of his thumb teasing your lip.

“I do,” you whisper. Suddenly, your body relaxes, and you slump forward. You feel very tired. The panic which gripped your body only moments ago is now quashed, flattened into a fine layer of dust by the weight of Wally’s impossibly black eyes. Now your nervous system is nothing but the aftermath: the feeling of fight-or-flight chemicals settling into your bloodstream, leaving you weak and sluggish.

Now, Wally’s eyes are not a source of terror. They’re a blanket you wish to curl up beneath, and never wake up.

“I think you’re special, you know,” says Wally. “The way I feel when I’m around you is…different, than with the others. You’re the absolute most.”

Wally’s words settle over your brain like a dream. You watch, your eyes heavy and drained, as Wally brings his hands up to his chest and forms the shape of his heart with his fingers. You’re no longer scared of the physical contradictions of Wally holding your hands whilst signing his affection. It seems in this reality, Wally can have as many hands as he wants.

This is why Wally’s next question confuses you so:

“Do you think if our friends saw me like this…they’d run away?”

Wally’s words are becoming harder to process. The world around him tunnels. Even though you’re sure that you’re fixed in place, sitting on some immovable, textureless cushion, Wally’s eyes grow larger, encroaching evermore on your limiting field of vision. The longer you look, the more of Wally’s scleras are swallowed by his expanding pupils. Those blown, void-black pools seem to come with their own gravity, and you’re slipping into their inconceivable pull, ready to be strewn and stretched and ripped apart by their physics.

“Oh, Wally,” you try to say, but your tongue slackens, and his name comes out as, ‘Waaalllllyyyy.’ “We love you so much. You can’t make us run away.”

Wally smiles, and you think it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“How I wish that were true.”

Suddenly, Wally’s eyes shift just the slightest bit to the left. The effect is like unsealing a pressure chamber. For a moment you are released from his eyes, and your brain and body scramble as one, free-falling and bracing to break against the ground with a hypnic jerk. However, Wally realises his mistake and grabs you by the shoulder - another impossible arm - and forces you to look back into his eyes.

“Shh. Don’t strain yourself. The more you resist, the worse you’ll feel.”

You blink rapidly, trying to reorient yourself in space. Wally’s touch grounds you again, holding you steady in this non-existent space. You try to reply, but your mouth now hangs open, jaw useless. Saliva collects in a pool under your tongue, but Wally still keeps his thumb at the edge of your lip, now rubbing soothing circles against your flesh.

“We don’t have much time,” says Wally. “But…thank you for this. You can’t know how much I appreciate you.”

The warm flush of his approval works its way through your unresponsive body. Your muscles contract, dopamine and serotonin coating your insides and bringing your fingers - still interlocked with Wally’s - into a sudden contraction. You force your mouth into a speech-ready shape, fuelled by his words and his touch and the sheer paradox of his being, and you try so desperately to say, ‘Wally, I love you- ’

But then he looks away.

The spell is broken. Like flipping to another television channel, the world around you snaps back into place in one vivid bound. All the colour, sounds and scents of the Neighbourhood re-enter your senses in one huge burst, and the force of it almost knocks you over. Wally - who is still holding your hands, just like before - keeps you steady, crushing your hands together like he would rather die than let go.

“Hey, you two!”

Looking away from Wally feels like ripping off a plaster. Your eyes alight on Julie trotting up the meadow’s slight incline, clutching a hotdog in one hand and a cooler in the other.

“Eddie wanted me to tell you we’re packing up,” Julie chirps. “Looks like a thunderstorm is coming.” She looks down at your hands, still intertwined with Wally’s, and grins. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Just some good old-fashioned fun,” says Wally, his voice impassive and gentle.

The ability for words has deserted you. You stare back at Wally, searching desperately for something supernatural in the darks of his eyes. Wally looks normal - as normal as a small, yellow puppet can - and his eyes are back to their half-lidded, sleepy-looking state. It takes a couple of nudges with his foot for Wally to bring you back to earth.

Wally lets go of your hands, and you can feel the blood pumping in the spaces between your fingers. You try standing up, but your legs are weak and wobbly, as if you’d just run a marathon while sitting in one spot. They would’ve collapsed beneath you, but Wally catches you before you slip. He hauls you up and loops his arm around yours.

“Just hungry,” Wally says with a smile. “Let’s get you Home."

Julie leads the way down the small embankment, with Wally supporting your timid, uneasy steps. You soon reach your neighbours, now busying themselves in tidying up the remnants of your picnic. Upon seeing you, they all crowd around, asking if you’re okay. Barnaby remarks that you look terribly pale, and Sally offers to bring you a drink. However, Wally shoos them off, admonishing them in a familial sort of way. He reassures them that you’ve just had a small fainting spell, and need to get some rest.

Now free of the others, Julie, Wally and yourself make the way home - and you’re thankful it’s only a short distance. When you finally reach your porch you want to fall over onto the steps, but Wally keeps you held upright: a firm, reassuring presence at your side.

“You need to tell us if you get this again, okay?” says Julie, looking at you with worry in her eyes.

“Okay,” you say, giving a weak nod.

“Thank you. Feel better soon, okay?”

Julie gives you and Wally a final glance over. Having determined you’ll be more than fine in Wally’s care, she bids her goodbyes and skips off to help the rest of your neighbours.

“Ha ha ha,” laughs Wally. “Julie is a good friend. I’m lucky to have her in my life.”

You look sideways at Wally. He catches your eye, and dips his head in a nod. “I feel the same way about you,” he says.

The question is implied in his voice - a little waver at the edge of his words.

“Wally…I don’t really understand what happened today,” you say. “But…I know it doesn’t change how much I like you."

The beam that dawns on Wally’s face is so wide, it almost cracks in two. “Thank you,” he whispers.

You can’t help but return the grin. “Thank you for being vulnerable with me.”

Wally lets go of your arm, and turns to face you properly. He reaches up one hand, and then hesitates, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours as if pondering a question.

Finally, Wally leans in and gives you a small, gentle kiss on the cheek. You inhale sharply, your arms hanging limply by your side and your fingers curling into questioning shapes. His mouth is plush and downy, and the impression of his lips sends a toasty-sweet feeling rocketing through your body.

When Wally pulls back, his yellow skin is dusted pink about his cheeks.

“Always know,” he says softly, “that I love you very much.”

Then, he’s leaving. You watch in stunned silence as Wally’s back retreats into the distance, making his way to join the throng of your neighbours. A slight rumble in the distance makes you look up: a cluster of thunderclouds gather at the edge of the Neighbourhood, fat with the promise of rain.

You touch your lips gently, and smile. Then, you retreat inside the safety of your home…with the warm memory of Wally’s kiss playing in your mind, and static still buzzing in your fingers.

[lueurjun]

neighbours to lovers! jake sim.

neighbour!jake x reader! in which jake sim has been in love with you from the minute he set his eyes on you. thank u so much for your support<3

OKAY LEMME TAKE A MOMENT TO GATHER MYSELF

because NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR JAKE???

WHO HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU SINCE YOU WERE KIDS?

dead. cant breathe.

his family and your family obviously know each other well

and i see his house as being ‘the spot’ during your childhood where all the neighbourhood kids used to play

he had these monkey bars in his backyard that everyone always wanted to play on

but jake always made sure you got to go on them first

#whipped

#nineyearoldrizz

brace yourselves

are you braced?

i’m not sure you’re braced

… HE WAS YOUR FIRST KISS

i know!! so cute right?

fighting back tears rn

you were only eleven so you didn’t really think much of it. he was your first kiss and you were fine with that

jake on the other hand?

he still thinks about it

in fact, that’s one of the scenarios he thinks of to help him get to sleep

boy is hopelessly in love

and everyone knows it too

like he denies it but everyone just knows

because he will drop anything just to do you the smallest favour

“hey jake, are you busy? i could really use your help watering my parents flowers?”

jake, who is in fact busy, “nope. not at all. never. give me that watering can.”

i repeat: w h i p p e d

cant blame him tho. you’re the embodiment of warmth, the personification of excellence. you are simply amazing.

i got more rizz that jake just sayin… ;D

despite knowing you for so long, he still gets all tongue tied whenever you’re around

and you’re just clueless

a perfect little dumbass

no matter how many times your family and friends — and even HIS family and friends — try to tell you, you’re convinced he’s just being friendly

because boys like jake don’t like people like you

you’re not enough for him. and he’s certainly not attracted to you

keep thinking like that. i dare u. i’m outside of your house. ur perfect! MWAH MWAH. take all my love pls

in true neighbours to lovers fashion, your bedroom window faces his

#youbelongwithmecore

and sometimes like the little creep that you are, you peek inside of his room to see if he’s there

unbeknownst to you, little jakey poo does the exact same thing

soulmates fr

twins asf

people that creep on each other, end up with each other

i do not condone staring into your crushes bedroom. do not do that. you may get arrested… but if you do send me your mug shot, i bet u look adorable! KIDDING IM TOTALLY KIDDING PLS DONT GET ARRESTED

anywhooo, one particular night you peek into his room

at the exact same time as him

cue that spiderman meme where they’re just pointing at each other

you both just kinda freeze

staring at each other

because now what? you’ve both caught each other out

eventually, you shuffle forward and open your window which coaxes jake to do the same

the confidence comes naturally because it’s only jake, you know him like the back of your hand

tho ur screaming on the inside because a) you’re embarrassed and b) JAKE WAS STARING INTO YOUR ROOM WHICH MEANS HE WAS LOOKING FOR YOU

it’s almost like he’s in love with u or sumn idk

“are you stalking me, sim?”

his cheeks go bright red and he kinda starts spluttering

“i—no. i promise i wasn’t—i-“

well. that was disappointing. you kinda hoped he’d keep up with your flirty banter

“it’s okay jake, i was doing the same thing.”

honest icon. you truly can do no wrong

even more spluttering. even more blushing

because YOU???? WERE WATCHING HIM??

bro loves stalkers. IM KIDDING ILY

anyways there’s something about the atmosphere

and to jake, it just seems right to say what’s on his mind

which leads to him sitting with his feet hanging out of the window and the darkest shade of red on his cheeks

“i still think about that kiss.”

did u hear me scream?

your mind goes blank

because what tf does that mean?

the kiss?? THE KISS? THE FIRST KISS???

HE STILL THINKS ABOUT THAT???

he can’t look you in the eyes, choosing to fiddle with his fingers instead

and you just stand there dumbfounded

bby talk to him before i lose my mind

when you don’t say anything, jake scrambles back into his room which kinda snaps you out of your trance

his fingers are itching to close the window

“i’m kinda upset that you’ve never come back for seconds”

i literally have a lambo and nine mansions

marry me rn

now it’s jakes turn to be speechless

bro is FLABBERGASTED

“oh.” 🧍🏻

“oh?”

“oh.”

this is painful. it’s 5:30 am rn cut me some slack

you have this poor boy breaking out into a rash from stress

and it worsens when you grab your coat and demand for him to meet you outside

like the true gentleman, he doesn’t leave you waiting long and almost falls flat on his face trying to get through the door

what a loser. i love him

he shuffles towards you, hands in his pockets and a look that says he’s absolutely terrified

are you gonna slap him? tell him you never want him to speak to you again?

“look, i’m sorry if i overstepped—“

“are you gonna give me my kiss i’ve been waiting for or not?“

it’s then that he notices that you’re both in the exact same spot as you were all those years ago when the first kiss happened

literally giggling and kicking my feet rn

“a-are you sure?”

and those are the exact words he uttered the first time too

he was as nervous as he was back then, perhaps even more so this time around

because this isn’t an innocent childhood kiss

you’re grown now. it’s different

in true y/n fashion, you start to lose patience

so you trust your gut and you grip onto his shirt, tugging him closer giving you the perfect chance to collide your lips with his

jake’s hands waft around in stress until they finally settle on your waist and he gains enough confidence to pull you somewhat closer to him

i don’t want a boyfriend. i don’t want a boyfriend. i don’t want a boyfriend.

the kiss is a thousand times better than the first

it's passionate and sentimental, full of longing and tenderness. it’s everything and more.

pulling away is almost a chore as you rest your head against his.

“i could get used to that.”

jake goes to respond, a breathless chuckle ghosts your lips when suddenly a wolf whistle cuts through the street

“AYO JAY OWS ME 20! I KNEW HE’D GROW SOME BALLS EVENTUALLY”

sunghoon, the neighbour across the street who also happens to be jake’s best friend, is leaning out of his window.

that definitely should have ruined the moment but you were far too wrapped up in the bliss of having jake so close to you, that nothing could ruin the happiness you felt

not even sunghoon and his idiocy.

[storiesofsvu]

The Game

Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, slight role playing, teasing, public foreplay, semi public sex, fingering, oral, smut. covers a bingo square (bolded prompt). 2700 words of pure porn. Yup. we've plunged into a new character pool besties. If you want to not miss out, sign up for the taglist here!

“Is this seat taken?”

You glanced up from your phone, lips curving up into a grin at the dark haired man in front of you, “it is now.”

It was the same as always, this little game you played when life got a little too busy, a little too boring, home life stale needing to be spiced up once again. You’d find a bar, not your regular spot, one that would be empty enough you’d have your own space but busy enough for no one to realize what was going on. Tucked away in a dark corner in a private booth Aaron slid onto the bench beside you, a fresh drink placed in front of you. Your eyes found the drink, following his hand up to his body, flicking up to his face and you smiled in appreciation. He had a crisp navy button up on, sleeves rolled up, one more button than normal undone exposing his chest and you wanted nothing more than to bury your face into the crook of his neck, leaving him with a mark for tomorrow.

But that’s not the order the game was played in. And you knew it.

It started out innocently enough, as if you had run into each other accidentally, chatting about your weeks, catching up with the other person. Slowly relaxing as you finished your first round of drinks before Aaron would disappear to grab refills and this time he slid into the booth he would slide closer to you, an arm draped over the back of the seat, fingers softly playing with your hair, tracing patterns across the bare skin of your shoulder and neck. You let out a giggle when you caught his eyes dragging down the column of your neck, lingering on your exposed cleavage as his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“You like what you see?” You asked, sly grin on your lips and he chuckled.

“Very much.”

“Shame we’re not in private so you can touch.”

He chuckled, his hand tickling across the back of your neck before curling around your cheek while he leant in, “I can think of a few other things I can do.” His breath was hot on your lips as he spoke, a small laugh on your lips as your eyes fluttered shut and his lips met yours.

As your lips moved with ease against each others his free hand moved to your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze before his fingertips started dancing up your inner thigh. His teeth nipped at your lower lip and you moaned into the kiss, the noise swallowed by Aaron while his hand got closer and closer to where you wanted it, sliding under your skirt. Instinctively you parted your legs, shifting on the bench to give him easier access right as his tongue slipped into your mouth. It moved with grace against yours, rolling deeper, not leaving an inch of you unexplored until you were whining into the kiss and he broke it with a dark chuckle. His hand finally cupped your pussy and he raised a brow at you,

“No panties? Dirty girl was ready for this, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” You breathed out, your lips already kiss swollen, pupils blown in the low light of the bar.

“Yes what?” He asked, pinching at your thigh and you squeaked.

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.” He leant forward, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and you couldn’t help but grind down toward his hand, pulling another laugh from him. “Suppose you want me to touch you, hmm?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, “please sir.” His thumb began to press slow lazy circles on your clit and you let out a quiet gasp, reaching out to pick up your drink in an attempt to not give in right away.

Because this was when the game leveled up. Aaron would slowly start to torment you while continuing the conversation from earlier. Asking you to keep telling him about your run in with a neighbour, the client at work who expected you to do things for half the cost, whatever mediocre boring things to keep your lips moving and you focussed on anything other than what was going on between your legs. His thumb would press harder every so often before his fingers were rubbing through your folds, finger tips teasing you, barely slipping into your cunt. His eyes would remain on you, watching the way your breathing was picking up, the curve of your chest rising quicker with each ministration of his hand under the table. Your words got breathier, more spaced apart as you tried to keep telling the story and somewhat keep your composure. When you’d finally finished answering his last question he was silent, thumb still toying with your clit while his fingers traced through you, simply smearing you wetness around. He reached out to pick up his beer, taking a swig before placing it back down on the table top and then he leant in, his words husked into the shell of your ear.

“So wet for me already. Tell me, did you touch yourself while I was gone?”

“No, sir.”

“Why not?” He murmured, leaving a kiss just below your ear.

“Not the same.” You whined, your hips rocking toward his touch, begging for more.

“Oh you poor thing.” He chuckled, nipping at your earlobe, “can’t make yourself come anymore? Have I ruined you?”

“Yes!” It came out as a strangled whine of frustration and Aaron quietly laughed again.

This was when the game shifted up another step, he would amp it up, instead of making boring small talk, he would be whispering the filthiest things into your ear, his hands anywhere on your body that couldn’t be seen and you had to keep composure.

“Well that is a shame.” He cupped your pussy once more before a thick finger slid in and you let out a quiet gasp, hands clutching at the side of the table. “How about that? Does that feel good?” His nose nudge at the side of your jaw as his finger thrusted in and out of you and you did your best not to shudder.

“Yes… oh fuck…”

Your head dropped closer to his shoulder, to anyone passing by it just seemed like the two of you were in an intimate, flirtatious conversation. Little giggles and teases flitting between the two of you as things got cozier, as the alcohol sunk in, lowering inhibitions. When it reality, your pussy was pulsing around his finger already, the heel of his hand brushing at your swollen clit. He curled his finger and your hand squeezed around his free arm as you let out a shuddering breath and he knew he’d found the sensitive spot inside you.

“Right there hmm?” He asked with a tease in his voice, a gleam in his eyes as he watched the heat creep up your neck. “Think I should add another finger? Fuck you faster?” He grazed past the spot again and you bit back a moan, your teeth digging into your lower lip as you nodded.

“Please sir. Oh god… please keep going.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart.” He kissed the side of your neck softly, “I wasn’t planning on stopping until your legs are shaking and this pussy is drenched.”

A second finger slid into your pussy and you groaned quietly at the sensation, your pussy fluttering around them as Aaron continued to pump them deep as he could into you. You could feel your juices smearing along your thighs, dripping down his wrist as each thrust pulled more out of you and you began to twitch. His free hand shifted up, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your head up to meet his gaze so he could truly watch you as he fingered you.

“So fucking gorgeous.” He murmured, leaning in for a kiss, his tongue instantly slipping into your mouth. Your whines were swallowed down by the kiss as his hand sped up, the wet sounds coming from your cunt drowning in the noise of the bar. “Always so pretty for me.” His lips began to trace down your jaw, “so fucking hot when you’re on your knees for me, you love my cock in your mouth, don’t you?”

“Yes..” You breathed out and with what composed thoughts you had left your hand found its way to his lap, palming at his length through his pants and he groaned softly. You could feel that he was already hard, straining against the fabric, no doubt as turned on as you were in that moment. Your hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing softly and he grunted quietly, curling his fingers again and you gasped. “Oh god Aaron… feels so good… pl.. please don’t stop.”

“You gonna come for me?” He mumbled, fighting the urge to rock his own hips up as you continued to palm at him, his cock getting harder with each little noise that escaped your lips.

“So close…” You mumbled, your pussy clenching down around his fingers, your words coming out in pants. His fingers twisted and scissored, stretching you out, knowing that you’d be begging for his cock in a matter of minutes and he had to make sure you were ready. You felt your thighs begin to shake, your vision going hazy when he curled his fingers again, pumping harder and faster, “oh fuck Aaron!”

Your cry was almost a little too loud, but a second later his lips were on yours again, silencing your moans and whimpers as your orgasm swept over you, your thighs trembling. You nearly attempted to close your legs but his arm kept them nicely spread open for him, juices dripping down his hand as you shivered. He gently pulled his fingers from you and you whined at the loss, causing him to laugh quietly.

“That was the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.”

“Need your cock.” You whispered, barely having caught your breath, “please sir.”

Aaron wasn’t one to deny you, especially when you were looking up at him with that pout on your lips, the neediness in your eyes prevalent and he knew you weren’t going to get very far without getting what you wanted. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one had caught on to what was going on in the darkened booth before pulling you around the corner to an unused storage room. The door was instantly locked and his arms wound around you, lips finding yours for a burning kiss, this one possessive and full of fire now that you were behind closed doors. He groaned into the kiss when you rutted your hips against him, his cock twitching in his pants, aching to plunge into your heat.

He backed you into the wall, hands squeezing at your ass and you followed his lead, hopping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. You couldn’t help but grind down against him, your pussy dragging along his length, smearing wetness onto the crotch of his pants. One of his hands bunched your skirt up to your waist before swiftly undoing his belt and pulling down the zipper.

“Aaron please…” you whined and he chuckled.

“Patience sweetheart.” He murmured back, his mouth making home in the crook of your neck, sucking and biting at the tender skin, pulling moans from you as your head dropped back against the wall.

He freed his cock from his pants, thick and throbbing in his hand, pre-cum leaking from the head that he smeared around himself, pumping a couple of times before he rutted forward. He rubbed his cock up and down your slit, the head brushing your pulsing clit and you groaned, your hands clutching at his body, nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to push yourself down towards him. Finally he lined himself up and sunk deep into your pussy, a mutual moan coming from both of you and your head fell forward.

“Fuck..” he muttered breathlessly, “so fucking tight for me.”

“Move, please.” You begged, nipping at his lip.

“You want me to fuck you hard and fast? Hmm?” He asked, his cock twitching inside you already as you squeezed down around him.

“Yes, oh god yes.”

Aaron pulled his hips back so just the tip was left inside your heat and then plunged back into you with a forceful thrust, a grunt in the back of his throat. He filled you completely, stretching you just perfectly in a way that made you shiver with pleasure, your body breaking out in goosebumps as his hips pounded into you. Your arms wound tighter around his shoulders, bracing yourself on him as he fucked you against the wall, each pump of his hips his cock dragged passed the sensitive spots of your pussy, you could feel every ridge and vein of him and it was already having you seeing stars.

“So good…” you moaned.

“Take me so well sweetheart.” He panted, his lips searching yours out to steal breathless kisses. One of his hands crept up your body, groping at your chest through your shirt, pinching at your nipples and you were moaning into the kiss, your pussy fluttering around him and his hips nearly faltered at the sensation. “Love this fucking pussy.” He muttered, his mouth finding the crook of your neck again, “who does this pussy belong to?”

“You!” You gasped out when he bit into your skin, “you sir, oh fuck..”

Your body felt like it was on fire, pleasure shooting through you, ready to break through from just under your skin, your legs already beginning to tremble around him. Aaron knew just how to angle his hips to fuck you deeper with each thrust, hitting every spot you needed to drive you absolutely wild. He could feel your pussy clenching down harder, your wetness completely surrounding him and his cock throbbed. His hand snuck between your bodies, pinching at your clit before he began to rub at it.

“Come for me sweetheart.” He grunted, “wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“Fuck..” you whimpered, your hips rocking up to meet his with each touch of his hand and push of his hips. His cock nudged deep within you right as his fingers rubbed harder on your pulsing nub and you cried out, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Oh fuck..” he muttered, “that’s it… god.” The way you squeezed around him was absolutely heavenly, he could feel every flutter of your pussy as he continued to drive into you, chasing his own release that he knew wasn’t far off. One of your legs dropped from around his waist and he slipped out of you, “on your knees.”

You eagerly dropped down in front of him, hand darting out to wrap around his cock, pumping it a few times to smear your juices around as you glanced up at him from under your lashes. That alone was almost enough to have him coming and you smirked at the way he twitched in your hand. Leaning forward you wrapped your lips around his cock, sinking down until your nose was brushing against dark curls and his hands tangled into your hair. You hallowed your cheeks, tongue tracing patterns around him as you sucked him deeper between your lips. You bobbed a couple of times, each time taking him further into your throat and a moment later he was grunting above you, hand keeping your head down on his cock as his cum spilled into your mouth.

You sucked hard around him, making sure you had swallowed down every last drop as he braced himself against the wall above you. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand you stood up on shaky legs, happy when a sturdy arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to him so he could kiss you on the forehead while he tucked himself back into his pants.

“Time for another round of drinks?” You offered, raising a brow and him and he laughed, the carnal darkness returning to his eyes.

“Oh I don’t think so.” He smirked, “I’m going to take you home and absolutely devour that pretty pussy.”

_________________

@unsubologyy @alexusonfire @svushots @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar

[neowinestainedress]

Hey love ur writings! Could you write a shot with Mark the way u wrote for doyoung pls? The needy doyoung and wife trying to find privacy to do it lol

w!: aged up mark (28yo) but only if you care enough to do the math, outdoor teasing, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected s*x, romantic (i guess?)

a/n: dad!nct is making me feel things ngl. anyway, thanks, and hope you’ll like this!

You and Mark have a long story. You had been dating for five years when he decided to pop the question. And now, five years of marriage and two kids later, you’re still as in love as you were when you first met.

And if love is still in the air, the same thing can be said about passion. Mark is still as clingy as he was ten years ago. He will never help you cook (for the safety of the family, he washes and dries the dishes) but he will always make sure to tease you, wrapping his hands around your waist and kissing your neck while he whispers things to your ear, at times innocent, at times things that would make you want to have him right there and then. And you’d do it if only it weren’t for the little ones running around the house. 

He even dares to tease you when you’re outside, busy taking care of the garden. “You used to be braver when we were younger,” he pouts when you slap his hand away, looking around fearing the neighbours might see. “Exactly, we were younger.” 

“Oh, so the rumours are true,” Mark chuckles, “you can’t take me anymore?” 

“Oh, please, shut up, Lee,” you say, playfully kicking him with a swing of the hips. 

“You sure you can?” He teases, kissing your neck while his hands wander on your body, this time cupping your right boob with no impediment. 

Your breath falters as you try to keep your focus on the plants, and you hum in reply. 

“The neighbours are out,” he whispers, dibbling your neck after moving your hair to the side. “We can have a bit of fun.”

You let out a low moan, head rolling back while the hold on the watering can loosens. “Mark,” you whimper when his other hand reaches down, moving on your clit through the fabric of the long dress you’re wearing. 

“Mommy! Daddy! Minjun is drawing on the wall!” Minseo’s scream immediately makes Mark pull away and you drop the can from your hands, splashing it all on your clothes. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you sigh exhausted, looking at your husband in disbelief. 

Mark chuckles, kissing you briefly. “Get changed, I’ll take care of the modern Pollock,” he says before running inside with your oldest daughter.  

You wish this wasn’t a constant, but it is. Every time you two have some moments alone, something happens. You don’t get mad, after all, Minjun is only two years old and wants to explore the world, especially now that he learned how to walk. But you miss those old days when he would spend most of the time sleeping or playing in the playpen. 

“Mommy!” It’s a Friday afternoon when you think you might finally have the opportunity for something to happen, after Minseo comes back from school with your husband with a big smile on her face. 

“Hi, honey. How was school?” 

“Great! A friend invited me to her place tonight. Can I go?” She asks, swinging her body side by side as she waits for your answer. 

“Of course, you can,” you reply, smiling back. “Come on, let’s go prepare the bag.” 

Getting Minjun to sleep is harder than usual, and you fear that night won’t go as you exactly planned. But you still succeed to make him fall asleep before Mark comes back from dropping Minseo, and have time to get ready. 

You forgot how it felt to slip into lingerie and admire yourself in the mirror, and you can’t wait for Mark to see it. 

“Fuck,” it’s the first thing Mark says when he sees you as soon as he enters the place. “You look — shit — you look perfect.” 

You giggle, finding endearing how his reaction is still as awkward as always. 

“Where’s — uhm — where’s the baby?” He asks, looking around. 

“The baby’s asleep,” you smile, walking toward him in your high heels, studying his face, and watching him gulp with each step closer. “We have all night to ourselves.” 

“If he doesn’t wake up,” Mark whispers, but his eyes are running on your body, stopping on your chest that’s pressed up by the bra and then moving down where the lace lingerie is basically see-through before falling on your legs. “I — I’m speechless.” 

“I forgot it takes nothing to impress you,” you chuckle before pulling him in for a heated kiss. 

“Nothing?” He asks through the kiss, struggling to catch his breath as you hurry to get him out of his clothes. “It’s you,” he says before lifting you up and walking upstairs. 

Once you’re in your bedroom, he lays you on the bed, swiftly getting out of his pants and underwear to be on top of you and kiss you again. You both needed this like air, and it’s clear in the way you are both so harsh and greedy with your hands and lips. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispers when his fingers reach between your legs and he starts moving them in circles on your clit. You don’t reply, not like he needs your verbal confirmation, and not like you’d be able to give it to him anyway. You feel on fire, and so close already. Probably it’s because Mark is really good at this, pushing his fingers in and out, curling them right where it makes you tremble, and sucking your clit until he leaves you breathless, or probably because your body has been left starved for so long, too long. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter, and you don’t care you come so easily. 

“Fuck, babe,” he murmurs, trailing up to kiss you while he keeps pumping his fingers to ride your orgasm. “Missed me much.” 

“So fucking much,” you mumble, pulling him down by his nape. “Need you inside me, Mark,” you whisper, but when he doesn’t obey, you feel your patience wear thin. “Now, Mark. I need you, now!” 

“Damn, alright, darling,” he giggles, pulling out of you before positioning between your legs. “Keep quiet if you want this to last.” 

“He won’t wake up, just fuck me alright.” 

Mark doesn’t say a word, just grabs the base of his dick to push into you slowly, whimpering as he sinks into you and your wet, warm pussy wraps around him. “Fuck,” he breathes out, voice shaky, “it’s been ages.” His hold on your hips tightening as he starts moving, rubbing on your soft skin. 

“Come here,” you beg, wrapping your arms around his neck as soon as he leans closer before doing the same with your legs on his waist. “Needed you so much,” you whisper, running your hand on his back, enjoying the sensation of his soft, bare skin. 

“Me too, honey,” he moans, throwing his head back as he starts picking up a rhythm. 

“More,” you cry out. “Please, Mark. Faster,” you plead, fingers running in his blonde hair, pulling at it until a louder, deeper moan rolls from his lips. 

He utters a curse before his hips start moving faster against you. “You feel so fucking good, shit,” he breathes out. “Won’t last long.” 

“Don’t,” you reply breathlessly, “fill me up, please.” 

Mark would love to make this last more, but he can’t resist you. The way your pussy is gripping him and dripping is making him go insane, not to mention how beautiful you look with your head thrown back, overwhelmed with pleasure while your parted lips let out the prettiest moans he has ever heard. He should remind you to keep it quieter, but he’s too lost in those sounds to care. 

“Mark, please,” you cry out, pushing him closer again. And in that messy, needy kiss, you both lose it, the orgasm hitting you hard, leaving you trapped in a panting mess. 

He stays on top of you for a while, leaving small kisses all over your face and whispering how lucky he is to have you, making your heart burst with joy. But when his arms don’t hold his body up anymore, he’s out of you, rolling to the side, with his arm resting on his forehead as he tries to take deep breaths again.

“Wait,” Mark says, watching you climb on top of him, “what are you doing?” 

You smile smugly. “Minjun didn’t wake up,” you say, grabbing his dick and aligning to your entrance, slowly sinking on it. “I told you we were going to have all night to ourselves.” 

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[dead-dove-yandere]

I have an idea of a housewife who has young children and was married until her husband cheated on her. The reader becomes her neighbor who is very kind and helpful, helping her carry garbage, repairing pipes, etc. and the woman starts to hold him dear and starts to think he is his wife and becomes delirious when her dear comes home for dinner after an invitation to thank you for repairing your daughter's bed

OC Intro: Marie

Housewife Yandere

Female ♡ 35 ♡ Human ♡ Housewife

TW: Stalking, obsession, implied murder, implied cannibalism

♡ - It wasn’t too hard to find the cracks in her façade, if you looked, but Marie still held it up regardless, and to that end, she’d even move across the country.

♡ - She told her husband and children that this would be a fresh start for them, and that it would be healthy to live closer to the countryside, with fresher air and friendlier neighbours. The real reason, of course, was so her husband would have a harder time contacting his mistress, and maybe they could finally fix their failing marriage.

♡ - Getting settled was difficult - the kids were running around, demanding to be fed or to have their toys back constantly, she had a million boxes to unpack, she had interior decorating to take care of, all while her husband sat back and played on his phone. She was harried right to the bone, with no respite.

♡ - Until you knocked on the door.

♡ - She answered to see you standing there, a placid smile on your face, holding up a large pot of stew. The relief on Marie’s face was obvious and instant.

♡ - “I’m your neighbour now - on the left, over there,” you said after introducing yourself. “I brought you some stew to welcome you. First night of moving is always hectic, isn’t it?”

♡ - She thanked you profusely, graciously accepting the pot with a smile, grateful that at least she didn’t have to cook dinner as well as the millions of other tasks she had to do.

♡ - The stew was delicious as she served it that night - but she noticed something. Her husband never praised it despite how sumptuous it was. Then, she realised he wouldn’t know that she hadn’t made it. She thought back, slowly realising that she couldn’t recall when he’d last praised her cooking. As far as he knew, she’d made this, not you, and despite how delicious it was, he still couldn’t muster up anything nice to say.

♡ - It didn’t take long before her husband found another young mistress at his new job to be distracted by. Sitting alone, in the house, her husband at work and her kids in school, she couldn’t help but cry as she realised her marriage would never be set right - her husband simply resented her.

♡ - She couldn’t even divorce him - she had no money to go to college, nor did she have any work experience - she was trapped, reliant on that cheating bastard.

♡ - She tried to busy her day with chores, and dried her tears long enough to take out the rubbish, but she’d barely left her house when you dashed up the driveway towards her.

♡ - “Here, those look heavy,” you say, taking them and carrying them for her. She smiled and thanked you again for your help. As she watched you walk up the drive, carrying the rubbish bags, the cogs began to turn again. You were so much kinder than her husband, not to mention more attractive too.

♡ - She felt like a silly schoolgirl, having a crush on the hot young neighbour, and guilt did begin to eat at her. Yet, she figured, if her husband was going to have his way with whatever young mistress he managed to sucker in, why couldn’t she have a bit of fun too?

♡ - When the pipe under her kitchen sink began to leak, instead of reaching for the phonebook, she instead called you over, asking if perhaps you knew how to fix it - she lit up when you said you did.

♡ - As you laid on the floor, fixing the pipe, while she milled about, making you cups of tea or coffee and watching you work, appreciating every little aspect of your appearance.

♡ - It was only a few days later when she had you back to look at her oven. Then a faulty lightbulb. Then the lawnmower. Then the washing machine, garage door, creaky step, a set of flatpack bookshelves, the fridge, a blocked toilet, one of her children’s toys, and -

♡ - You were coming over nearly everyday - whenever you said anything about it, Marie would just laugh and say the house must have been a fixer upper. Yet, you could have sworn that half of these faults that she asked you to fix couldn’t have happened on their own.

♡ - Of course, it doesn’t take long for her husband to notice something is up. He confronts her one night, not even bothering to wait until the kids were in bed. Marie just sits there, calmly staring at her husband as he accuses her, yells at her, slut shames her. And then it hits her.

♡ - He is the man she married - her real spouse would never treat her like this. And as her eyes glaze over, she realises this imposter has been getting in the way of her relationship with her actual love, the person she did actually marry - you.

♡ - She puts the kids to bed after he’s finished yelling at her. Pours him a drink of whiskey and makes him a steak sandwich, placing the sharp steak knife on the edge of the plate. She brings it up to his home office, and closes the door.

♡ - The next morning, she tells her kids that daddy is going on a long business trip and won’t be back for a very, very long time. She sends them to school and begins to prepare dinner for that evening.

♡ - As it cooks low and slow, she asks you to help her fix up her daughter’s new bed frame. She’s grown so big now and Marie just can’t put it together by herself. As usual, you oblige, and drink plenty cups of tea as you smell the delectable scent of the stew she’s making.

♡ - After you mention how good it smells, she grins and asks you to stay for dinner. Her husband is out, she says, and she’s cooked far too much. You’re hesitant at first, but agree.

♡ - You sit with her at the table, meeting her two children for the first time. They seem pleasant enough, and the daughter is thrilled with her new bed. Marie dishes out the stew and you take a bite. It’s wonderful, but you can’t quite tell what sort of meat she used. It tastes like veal, but she claims it’s pork.

♡ - Marie smiles warmly at her two children and you ask she eats. Finally, the move has paid off. Her marriage is saved.

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

[lewkwoodnco]

Hii I wanted to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with Invisible string, where they're neighbours for years, and used to play together as children. When Lucy joins the agency, she becomes friends with the reader, so the reader starts to be more around their house. Then Anthony starts interacting with her more, and they become friends, but Anthony realises his falling for her, so he starts to become awkward and shy around her she notices it and confronts him about it, then he confesses.

Invisible String - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: fluffy fluffy, though there is like the baaarest hint of angst which is kind of brief as long as you dont dwell on it too long + most of it gets resolved hehe and its made up for in the happy happy ending! yay!! personally i imagine the song she's humming at the piano to be invisible string heheh wc 5.4k

Lucy is waiting by their garden gate impatiently. They weren't running late for their job, but it was chilly out and she wanted to get in a cab before it got much colder. Lockwood walks out soon enough, holding a letter, but he walks to the fence rather than the gate. Over the fence, there's a girl pulling on her gloves as she walks towards her own gate, but Lockwood waves her over.

"What's this? Another lawsuit?"

"Not for me, at least. Our mail got mixed up again."

"Ah. Thanks."

They talk about their week for a while. Lucy watches Lockwood's polished exterior melt as his body language becomes more casual and fluid. The girl pockets the letter and the two of them look at each other for a while. He lamely gestures to her outfit.

"You look nice. Going on a date?"

"Yeah, with this guy in my pottery class."

"That sounds nice. Have fun."

"Thanks. You stay safe."

"I'll try."

Lucy walks over, looking at Lockwood meaningfully while he stiffens reflexively. "Who's your friend?"

"We're just neighbours." The girl smiles pleasantly, but Lucy doesn't miss the way he carefully watches her. They introduce themselves to each other. They chat a little, and Lucy picks up on her good-natured teasing of Lockwood appreciatively.

"So you must have known Lockwood for a while now, right?"

"Try ever since I was born. Our parents got on so well that we used to have dinner together every other day. And that was excluding brunch on the weekends. Trust me, I've had enough playdates with him to last a lifetime."

"Lockwood! You've never mentioned her, not even once."

"Well, to be fair, that was all years ago. We've been a little busy for the, um, last decade or so." There's a silence.

"Oh, there was that summer..."

"Yeah."

"Hmm."

"That had been nice."

An uncomfortable prickling accompanies the silence this time. She finishes fiddling with her gloves and looks ready to walk away, but Lucy recognises the suppressed look in Lockwood's eyes and tries to salvage the situation.

"You should come over sometime. We're doing some spring cleaning tomorrow, if you want to join."

"Luce. Let's not burden Y/N with chores."

"No, no, that sounds nice. I'd love to help. Though Lockwood never struck me as the spring-cleaning type."

"He's being coerced. We're holding his favourite rapier hostage."

Her lips twitch as she slices the envelope open. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from your job. Be careful. Mum sends her love." She says the last part more to Lockwood, who smiles with a warmth Lucy had seen little of. He watches her walk out, skimming the letter, and it isn't until George joins them that he looks away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their case is so exhausting and Holly piles so much work on him the next morning that he forgets that she's coming over. It isn't even until the afternoon that he realises she's there at all, when looking for someone to help him rip the stitches off some old curtains. He walks into one of the spare rooms, calling out for George, but he stops short when he sees an unfamiliar figure standing on the bed, peeling posters off the wall. She glances behind and he suddenly remembers the events of last evening.

"Oh - Y/N. Hello. Have you seen the others lately?"

"Lucy went out to get another scraper and I think George went down to the Archives. Holly just left for the post office."

"Oh. I see. Er, do you need help?" She turns around from the poster she was steadily peeling off, dropping it into the pile with satisfaction.

"Nope, that was last of them. Anything I can help you with?"

He hesitates, and she picks up on it.

"Lockwood, I don't have anything to do until Lucy comes home anyway. I don't mind, really."

He relents and she agrees to help immediately, poising to step off the bed. She pauses before making the step, looking at the floor nervously.

"...need help getting down?"

"No. Just...give me a minute." She tries to hold onto the bed's headboard but still suffers from some internal struggle in stepping down. The image triggers a decade-old dormant memory in him, of the time she had slipped from the picnic tabletop in her garden and twisted her ankle. Instinctively, he holds out a hand, which she grabs thankfully and is down so quick he doesn't even realise until she pulls her hand away. The feel of her fully-grown hand in his is a jarring yank back to the present.

"Still so afraid of heights?"

She shudders. "My ankle still twinges if I so much as think of making a small leap. Now, where are those curtains?"

They decide to occupy the couch in the living room, and it's a bit of a tight squeeze with the piles of linens towering around them, but they manage.

"So you take the seam ripper, like so," Lockwood fumbles with the comically small seam ripper but somehow slots it under a tiny stitch, "and you rip the seam. Just like that."

She rips the stitch on her curtain with greater efficiency than him. He looks mildly startled. She glances at the pile of curtains next to her, and then the one next to Lockwood.

"Looks like I'll be done with my pile first."

There's a pause as Lockwood processes her words and the glimmer of competition in her eyes, and then they both leap into action, tugging down yards and yards of fabric, painstakingly unravelling the seams stitch by stitch. It doesn't take long for them to start playing dirty. She tries to block Lockwood's vision by flapping the dusty curtains at him and he tries to slow her down by holding her curtains down. But by the time the rest return, they're too engrossed to sabotage each other so that Lucy finds them sitting in some weird contorted manner, ripping seams feverishly.

"I was only gone two hours! Both of you've done all that?"

She tries to shush Lucy, already feeling herself slow down as she tries to free up enough mental capacity to answer. She feels rather than hears Lockwood giggle in delight as he picks up his pace. Lucy shakes her head, walking out to the kitchen.

"Find me when you're done, I'm having tea." She groans, heavily enticed by the suggestion of biscuits and sweet tea after an afternoon of stringing her fingers to bits.

"Wait, wait, truce please, I want tea."

Lockwood reluctantly lets up, stretching under the sea of curtains around them. They part ways for the evening, taking breaks or helping out with other smaller projects, but they reconvene after dinner, though with significantly less fervour.

An hour or two past midnight, once his neck had started to ache too much, he looks over at Y/N, and realises she's fast asleep. He moves to shake her awake, but she looks so peaceful and alarmingly similar to the little girl he remembered her as that it gives him pause. Lockwood wasn't one for sentimental doting, but it felt nice to have a piece of his long-forgotten childhood in his home again, safe and warm.

He makes a quiet phone call to her parents before fetching a blanket for her. That night, the childhood memories he falls asleep to are warm and happy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucy wakes up from her nap in a delightfully warm haze. The house is quiet, likely because of everyone staying up late the previous night. She shuffles to the kitchen, but pauses when she hears a curious sound echoing in the hallway. She blearily follows it to the living room, where she sees Y/N and Lockwood sitting opposite each other at the coffee table, playing poker. She seemed to be trying her best to stop giggling, yet failing, while Lockwood berated her.

"Your poker face sucks, Y/N. I know more about your cards than I do mine."

She shakes with silent laughter, covering her face with her cards ashamedly as Lockwood joins in with the laughing. It's a weirdly surreal sight to see. Everntually, Lockwood's eye drifts and he spots Lucy standing in the doorway.

"Luce. Have a good nap?" Lucy grumbles some incoherent reply, pulling a biscuit out of the biscuit tin. She sits down and watches them shriek at each other (Lockwood was right, her poker face was downright terrible) as they finish the game, and Lucy can't help but smile over the idiots.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where's Y/N?"

The first words out of Lockwood's mouth the next morning were arguably his most poorly-chosen yet, especially without any buffer from the relentless mocking of Lucy and George. One of them alone was bad enough, but with both of them joining forces, it made for a very weary breakfast.

"Cool it, she's my friend. Get your own."

"Then what does that make us, if not friends?"

"Neighbours." Lucy smiles innocently as Lockwood throws a dish towel at her.

The rest of breakfast passes up uneventfully, which makes the incident the first thing out of Lucy's mouth as soon as she steps through the door.

"Morning!"

"Lockwood missed you at breakfast this morning."

"Did not."

Between Lucy's smirk and Lockwood sullenly hiding in the shadowed hallway, she wasn't sure what to start with.

"Did too, he so wanted you to be there."

Lucy turns to Lockwood, daring him to contradict her. Holly steps out of the kitchen, straightening her pinafore, but doesn't pick up on the tension so she just smiles. His eyes dart between the three of them and some part of his body decides that panic is the best reaction of choice.

"DEPRAC wants to steal my papers," he says as some odd form of explanation, before disappearing into his room. Lucy snorts while Holly and her share a puzzled look.

"I think he's talking about our case report."

Whatever it was, it was being tucked away into his coat when she ran into him at the front door about ten minutes later. His smile is part grimace.

"Sorry about earlier." He stops talking, but looks like he wants to say more, so she patiently hovers. "About breakfast - I just feel bad for doing all this free labour, breakfast is the least I could offer-"

"Don't sweat it, I'm fine."

"Well, I'd feel a lot better if you popped by for a bun every now and then."

Her lips twitch. "Maybe I will."

There's a concerned look in his eye and his gaze that lasts a little too long to be comfortable, and it reminds her of the last time he looked at her like that. It had been near the tail end of the summer a few years back, late at night. She had been crying something awful on her front porch after a certain Noah Lewis had dumped her, and he was neighbourly enough to play a good samaritan in talking her through it.

It had started with a lot of unrestrained swearing and dragging of Noah Lewis' name through the mud as soon as she walked through the front gate, the kind that made her father peer out the window in alarm and then disappear back into the house. After a good quarter of an hour of this, her rage faded along with her energy, and she ended up crying embarrassingly on Lockwood's shoulder. "That's it," she had sobbed into his soft, forest green sweater that smelled like clean cotton. "I'm done with dating. It's the single life for me from now on." What flimsy grip she had managed over her emotions started to slip once more, as she burst into a new set of wails.

"Oh God, I'm going to die alone!" Lockwood rubbed comforting circles on her back as she clutched him tighter.

Looking back, she understood the smile on his face a little better, though a part of her still wanted to stay peeved at him for laughing at her misery. At least he had the decency to cold-shoulder Noah when he came around a few days later.

The memory occupies the back of her mind for the rest of the day, and it's still there when Lockwood returns. She doesn't realise it, but it makes her soften around him, though not noticeably so. By then, they've cleared up enough of the house to uncover the piano tucked away in the basement. Holly had spent the afternoon lovingly tuning it and polishing it up, but no one else seemed much interested in it.

After dinner, she sees Lockwood sitting at the piano, watching the keys as if he's too afraid to touch them. She joins him at the bench, taking in the sight of the glossy keys she could barely hear being played from her room when she was a child. Maybe that's what she's thinking about when she asks him to play something for her, and he obliges.

He plays a short piece that isn't extremely elaborate by any means, but it's beautiful and makes her want to rest her head on his shoulder. When he finishes, there's a short silence, and she tells him it was beautiful. She feels him smile against her head. Her fingers meander over the keys and she plays the occasional note as she hums some tune tucked away in the recesses of her mind. He picks up on it after a while, playing a more complete accompaniment to her stilted humming. She tilts her head where it rests on his shoulder to look at his face, and his hand slips on the note. She wishes to stay there forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Hey." The last one was from Lucy, and it earned her a reproving glare and there was this silent yet intense communication between the girls. It's the next day, and now they've started on the library, sifting through the masses of newspapers dating well back into the past century. Lockwood had just returned from helping George at the archives (all the dust and cleaning was making his allergies act up so he wasn't at peak performance, as much as hated to admit it). She finally looks away from Lucy with the air of washing her hands of her, looking up at a forgotten Lockwood.

"Your coat collar's turned up."

"He does that to look cool. And because you're here. Dunno if you've noticed, Lockwood, but the coat hanger's by the door."

"Ha-ha. I'm leaving for Satchell's soon. Just...wanted to see how you were getting on."

"Wanted to see how Y/N was getting on."

"No, no." But his voice is a little too high-pitched to be fully convincing, and Lucy bursts out laughing, and his annoyance evaporates his nervousness. "Just making sure you haven't bullied her to tears, Luce."

"I've been such an angel."

She traces the outline of Lockwood's coat with her gaze fondly. "I remember the morning you bought it." She leans conspiratorially towards Lucy. "Preened in front of me for a good ten minutes, shifting his weight around to look cool. He only stopped when he heard my dad coming out to get the paper."

"That's awfully patient of you. George and I just try to suffocate him when he gets too unbearable."

"Are - are you hearing this? Admission of assault."

'Oh hush, you big baby."

She smiles as she watches them bicker. Lockwood clutches his chest with an exaggeratedly injured look, and their eyes briefly meet. He looks away first.

"What can I say? When you're stuck with this...peacock of a neighbour, you're bound to be forced into being an adoring audience on more than one occasion. Comes in and disrupts my peaceful mornings."

"Someone had to appreciate it, and you're always up at the crack of dawn."

"So are you, but you don't sleep so it doesn't count."

Lockwood lets out an uncharacteristic bark of laughter. Lucy's eyes look like they're about to fall out of her head.

"Sue me for wanting to share first thing I bought with my hard-earned money with someone."

She chokes on her breath, barely holding herself back from a fit of giggles. Lucy looks as though Christmas had come early.

"Lockwood had a job? Like, a proper one?"

"Well, I don't know if I'd call it a job so much as a cosplay of being working class. But yes, he manned a frozen yogurt cart in the park a few summers back. First and last time i've seen him willingly sit out in the sun."

"Oh, please, at least I didn't spend my days making eyes at Noah Lewis."

She shrugs in mock ignorance in a way that Lockwood can't help but match her smile. For a while the only sounds that could be heard were of the girls shifting through the newspaper with inky fingertips, until Lockwood finally gets up to leave for the client meeting.

It's an uneventful trip and consultation, but looks promising enough in terms of commission. It's tedious enough to make him peckish for a mid-morning snack. When he returns, he walks into the kitchen to sneak a biscuit and finds her fiddling near the stove.

"Oh, hi. Lucy and I wanted some tea but I'm not quite sure I know how your kettle works..."

He fiddles with the plug a little, twisting the wire in ways that make her concerned for his safety, but eventually they hear the kettle hum cheerfully, and they silently wait for the water to boil. She fidgets, trying to make small talk.

"How's George's room coming along?"

"I told him to pick out his favourite biohazards. The rest would have to go."

The kettle starts to crackle louder now. She eyes it apprehensively but Lockwood doesn't seem to even register it.

"House looks...pretty much the same."

"Yeah."

"I like it."

"Thank you. But I'm glad we're doing this. The spring cleaning, I mean. Sometimes I wonder if it's too crowded."

"I like it. I think it's crowded with life."

He gives her a soft smile and when he looks at her, he's not as quick to look away as before. But then he remembers her outing last evening and carefully broaches the subject. After all, it had been a while since they talked about things like this, and she was by no means obligated to, but he tried.

"How was your...date?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. It was alright. He's a nice guy. Patient. Down-to-earth Unlike someone I could mention."

Her teasing smile is back, and Lockwood feels as though a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. His features contract into a familiar melodramatic expression.

"I'm sorry I disrupted so many peaceful mornings."

A smile slides back onto his face as she scoffs and gives him a shove. "Very funny. You were plenty insufferable before your friends came along. You're lucky I wasn't as creative as them."

"Mm, so grateful."

More silence. "They seem nice, George and Lucy. I see why you spend so much time with them."

And not so much with me, she wanted to add, but she didn't want to cause unnecessary strife, so she just focused on keeping her tone light. But Lockwood still picked up on the subtle edge of bitternes.

"I thought you...moved on to other things in life. You don't stop to chat by the fence much anymore."

"You got so busy with your agency business. I didn't want to impose."

She glances at Lockwood's genuinely puzzled expression, his lips barely parted as she saw the cogs turning in his head, trying to reconcile the idea of their chats being an imposition. She feels awkward in a way she's never felt with him, even when it was just the fence in between the two of them. They went from close, to distant, to kind of close again for that one summer they were 16, and now...now she wasn't sure.

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I...I didn't mean to."

"Yeah, well...you can say hi more often. Or bye. If you wanted to." It was stupid; she knew she was being childish but she couldn't help it. Something still smarted inside of her when she saw the three of them traipsing off most nights, something she didn't quite understand.

"I always want to."

"Lockwood? You better not be withholding tea."

They get startled by Lucy's voice and take a step back. Lockwood fumbles as he pulls off the top of the cottage-shaped container, scooping out piles of teabags. "Look, plenty of tea. All the tea. Please don't tell Lucy."

She shakes her head, bemused, pouring water into their mugs just as Lucy walks in, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Lockwood. Luckily, she gets distracted quickly enough and starts dumping sugar into her mug. She watches Lucy for a while until Lockwood fold his jacket over his arm, brushing her shoulder as he walks past.

"Hm?"

He stops by the door to the kitchen, a familiar easy smile on his face. He looks like home.

"Bye."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why do you call him Lockwood? Surely you knew him when he was 'Anthony,' or - or was it 'Big A'? Please tell me it was 'Big A.'"

She had started to become a regular visitor at the breakfast table, which meant more time for Lucy to spend interrogating her on everything and anything about Lockwood. Even George had joined in briefly; it was too good of an opportunity to pass up for an enigma like Lockwood. All the while, he anxiously flitted around, on guard to brush off anything too incriminating.

He carries the kettle away, mildly peeved. "I think that's enough tea for you, Luce." Lucy makes a face behind his back and the girls share a muffled laugh.

"Oh, he hasn't been Anthony for ages." She smiles briefly, but gives Lucy's hand an intentional squeeze, her eyes asking Lucy to not press it. She doesn't realise how Lockwood has suddenly become much more interested in the paper only because she too is avoiding eye contact.

She remembers it like it was yesterday. Her parents had done their best to help Lockwood, but there was only so much they could legally do (not that it stopped her mother from sniffing disapprovingly at every inept social worker that walked up the garden path). It had been after Jessica's funeral, and for once they were both on the same side of the fence: sitting on the steps to the porch. He was wearing a suit that was a bit too big for him, not unlike his daily attire now, and the smell of burnt rubber hung in the air.

"I don't think I want to be Anthony anymore."

It was a decision that never confused her, not even for a minute. Anyone would have needed a reconstruction of identity after going through such traumatic experiences at an age as young as his. Adjusting to the change had been surprisingly smooth too; he didn't look much like Anthony after that day either. But it was bone-deep agony to watch time drip by, like lazy honey, and only being able to hope that he was getting happier.

Lucy picks up on the hint and starts asking George about the rooms they need to tackle today. Meanwhile, she walks past the kitchen window, nearly bumping into Lockwood. They breathe a reflexive apology and laugh lightly. Her eyes land on the angry red cut on his forehead.

"How's the-?"

"Oh, it's fine. Just a scrape. I've had worse."

"Aw, you poor baby."

Lockwood laughs weakly as she gently tugs at the skin near the cut, which at least seemed to be better than the previous night. When looks away she notices the pink tinge to the tips of his ears. She frowns at the slightly ajar window, closing it firmly. There still was a chill in the air from the frost that hadn't completely melted away yet.

True to his word, Lockwood comes home with a broken wrist a few days later. George is rather miffed and Lockwood insists that he's making it sound worse than it actually was, but that doesn't stop her from wincing when George claims he heard the snap of his bone from the floor below. Despite Lucy's insistence that he had survived much worse, she can't help but fret over him a little.

"I can pour my soup myself, you know."

"Yes, yes, you're a big strong man who needs no help. Now go sit down, I'll bring your toast." It might have been more convincing if she hadn't been absent-mindedly muttering, or even without the pat on his head, but he still took his seat at the table, not entirely unhappy. George had managed to wrestle him into his bed in the afternoon and his body finally succumbed to the beckoning of sleep, making him sleep through dinner. It was just the two of them in the kitchen, one anxiously watching the other sip their soup.

"Really, you didn't need to do this. It's no trouble on my wrist."

"Lockwood, the doctor said not to put any pressure on it. It is, by definition, trouble on your wrist."

He sighs, frowning at how she worries her bottom lip. "You're not...doing this out of guilt, or something, are you?"

She opens her mouth to deny it, to say how preposterous such a suggestion is, but her protests die on her lips. She takes a shaky breath.

"I was thinking about the days after...you know. How exhausted and lonely you must have been. How I didn't care enough to visit you more, to even cross that fence, unless it was to come running to you with my own silly problems."

"Y/N," he looks like he wants to smile but is trying not to for the benefit of the situation, and it rubs salt in her wound. "Of course you cared. You were just a kid, acting like kids do."

"I yelled at you about Noah when I was 16. 16."

"And I appreciated it. You gave me something more normal to be mad about. You made me feel like a teenager again." He reaches out and covers her hand with his uninjured one. "And I don't ever want you feeling like any of your problems is too tiny or insignificant to bother me with. I'm your neighbour, what else am I good for?"

She gives him a watery smile, feeling the tension that had been bunching around her temples all afternoon start to dissolve. He always knew just what to say, the ointment to every wound and scratch. He made it easier to live, easier to breathe.

"Wait, where's Lockwood?"

"Going down to Arif's."

"With a broken wrist?"

"He still has his left hand!" Lucy calls after her, but she's too busy scrambling for a pair of mittens and hurrying to the front door. Luckily, she catches him just as he's about to head out, and a smile cracks open on his face when he sees her.

"Everything alright?"

"You forgot your mittens."

He eyes the patterned woollens in her hands. "Y/N. I haven't worn mittens since I was...six, maybe."

"Obviously, since that's about how long they've been collecting dust in your old coat - which, by the way, is in no shape for the Salvation Army. You didn't set it on fire, did you?"

"Look, when it comes to fires, I may have an affinity for them but not necessa-"

"Fine. Just wear the mittens."

"I'll only be a minute! What's the worst that could happen?"

"Oh, yes, because a cold is exactly what you need on top of a snapped wrist and cut." She holds the mittens out expectantly, and he reluctantly takes them. They spend a few awkward minutes trying to figure out how to get them on without his cast getting in the way, and Lockwood nearly drops them when he gets startled by the brush of her fingertips on his palm, until she decisively puts them on his hands herself. When she looks up, his ears are tinged red again, as well as his nose.

"See, you're already getting cold. Are you sure I can't go to Arif's for you?"

They hear a scoff from behind, and turn to see George watching them. She looks at him questioningly but he ambles past her to the kitchen, muttering words under his breath she couldn't quite understand. Lockwood takes advantage of the pause in her fussing and steps out before she can continue protesting, but the sight of the mittens securely pulled over his fingers gives her some relief.

George turns his snigger into a poorly concealed cough.

"What now?"

"If you keep kissing his scrapes better, he'll throw himself off a cliff one of these days."

"George." Lucy admonishes him while she tries to settle the awkard swooping sensation in her chest.

"It's true and you know it."

Lucy nods awkwardly at her. "I mean...he's got a point."

When she thinks about it, it makes her feel funny in a way she can't deicide.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening, she's sitting on her porch, brooding, when Lockwood leans over the fence.

"Home so soon?"

"Thought I'd come here for some quiet thinking."

He nods affably, his flyaway hair gleaming in the setting sun. "You left your cards in the living room."

"Come on over," she says unexpectedly, possessed by a sudden desire to be close to him. It surprises her as much as him, but as she watches him walk out of his own gate, and strangely walk into her gate, the foreign sight reassures her with a distant sense of familiarity. She had been on so many crazy misadventures, but they all led her back to the same place: in his arms. Maybe the universe had grown hoarse from yelling at her to open her eyes to what was right in front of her.

He sits down next to her and hands her the cards. She looks at the quiet face of Anthony hiding inside the sallow face in front of hers, and marvels at how the same time that put her through hell as a child had somewhat healed his wounds. She puts them to the side and links her fingers in his, resting her head on his shoulder as their breath misted in the chill.

"Remember that summer at the yogurt shop?" She feels him relax against her as he hums in agreement. "You looked so fresh in your teal shirt."

"I wondered what you were doing, sitting under that tree all day. Was it really just to watch Noah all day?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. It was a weird sort of year. I had this restlessness in me...this desire to sit outside in the world and wait for things to start happening to me. For someone to find me and for my life to begin." She shifts, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "Speaking of Noah...did you know he got married last year?"

"Someone wanted to marry Noah Lewis?"

"You say things like that as if I wasn't ready to have his children just two years ago."

"To be fair, you weren't the brightest two years ago."

"Anyway, they're expecting a child. Him and his wife. I even sent him a baby shower gift."

"A gift? What, TNT?"

She laughs into his shoulder, and she can feel him metaphorically swelling with pride. And when she stops laughing, there is nothing to distract her from the dull ache in her heart, the string that tugged at it as it desperately reached for Lockwood's. Lockwood, who invigorated her spirit and quelled her anxieties, who was the balmy breeze on a warm summer evening, who smelt of a pleasantly sharp soap. She stumbled and fell a million times with all the wrong people in all the wrong places, but now she felt as though she were being reeled home by the invisible string that permanently and irrevocably tied her to him.

She looks up at the sky, a thousand different shades of blue, purple and pink. The temperature continues to drop, but with Lockwood's arm wrapped around her after a particularly vicious gust of wind, she feels warm enough. She murmurs into his neck and feels the hair at the back of his neck stand against her lips.

"Isn't it just so pretty to think...all along there was some invisible string," she inhales, "tying you...to…me."

[dottedsilktie]

Aftermath

Nanami leaves behind a bereaved reader who has yet to fully accept the aftermath of his death.

CW : +18, smut, unprotected sex, unprocessed grief, angst no comfort

You look over to your phone buzzing on your nightstand. You don’t have to read the name that lights up your screen to know who’s calling. After the first buzz, you already know how everything is going to play out, for you have revisited this scene countless times in your mind before but it doesn’t dull the pain that blooms in your chest and bleeds into your whole body. You stay still, trying to breathe in large gulps of air and take a moment to collect your thoughts.

Just like you’ve practised before, you look around your bedroom and try to anchor yourself in the familiar scent of the bedsheets, bergamot and chamomile, then your eyes follow the embroidery of purple and blue flowers on your comforter until they settle on the mahogany chair sitting at the foot of the bed. Your gaze lingers on the chair, its bow back concealed by a cream-coloured suit, a wrinkled pale blue shirt and a yellow silk dotted tie : they’ve been sitting here for days on end, waiting for their rightful owner. You’d hoped they’d bring you comfort in a time like this, instead you find yourself wordlessly crying as you finally let the crushing weight of grief wash over you.

Ever since he left, you knew he wouldn’t come back. That’s just how life is, this world is cruel and it has given you everything you wanted just to snatch it out of your grasp again. The world is cruel, and he’d told you before that, despite his best efforts, he wouldn’t be able to stay, that he will be taken away from you. His warnings were in vain, it just took a few kisses, whispered confessions of lust and love and delusional promises of fleeing all of this together for him to sigh into your mouth and give in to you.

You didn’t want to believe him when he said you were both living on borrowed time, because with him it felt as though love was endless, he made you feel like time itself was altered, inconsequential when you lied bare in his embrace and sighed contently against his heated kisses.

You look down at the watch you held tightly in your hands, unable to focus on the time. Instead, you try to take in the elegant lines of the dial and the thin creases running through the dark blue leather bracelet and you busy yourself with reversing the case - hiding the dial and revealing it again, smiling through your tears.

It brings you back to simpler times, leisurely mornings spent in your shared bedroom. You’d be moaning shamelessly under the broad expanse of his chest, only getting louder when he’d become restless above you and sneak a veiny hand to your throat. You’re reminded of the way he’d rut into you with abandon, uncaring for the noise or his neighbours or the way both of your phones were ringing incessantly even on your days off. He’d smile smugly above you when you’d climax with a scream of his name and pleas dying on your tongue, but he wouldn’t last much longer - collapsing over you and panting in your mouth, burying himself deeply into you and letting his release flood your tired cunt. Even then you didn’t inch away from him, just manoeuvring your tired limbs to tangle yourself against him and brush the light blonde hair out of his face, revealing golden brown eyes still filled with wanton lust and a hint of something else unspoken and lingering in the air you both breathed in to steady your erratic heartbeats. That’s when he’d reach behind you to grab the same watch you were now holding, checking the time to see that it was already midday and jokingly chastising you for keeping him in bed too long. 

You remember those days so vividly and the lump in your throat makes it harder to breath when you think back on how the dark room you’re withering away in right now used to be drowning in golden sunlight, its walls reverberating with the sound of your laughs dying in your throat, turning into wanton moans and whimpers whenever Kento got his hands on you. He had become insatiable right before he left, always finding an excuse to get on you, under you, then inside you. There was a sense of urgency and desperation in everything he had done at the time. His amber gaze, usually warm, became uncharacteristically vacant. Maybe he already knew how Shibuya would end. You’d like to think he didn’t though, just to keep the illusion of his last days with you being happy, untainted.

Your phone rings again, jolting you from your daydream. You’re greeted with a concerning number of missed calls and messages sent in a frenzy from Ijichi – the first ones seem almost hopeful, but they quickly spiral into mournful and apologetic gibberish. Then you find a single text from Shoko, sitting at the very top.

There’s no mistaking the foreboding and defeated undertone of her message. A simple “Sorry, there is nothing I could do” that robs you of any remnants of hope.

You chance another gaze at your room, still so full of him, specks of Kento lingering in every corner like he might come back any minute - his suit is still like he left it, smelling of cold tobacco and vetiver and something heady but elusive, the familiar smell already starting to fade into nothing. You wish you could somehow bottle it up, keep a version of him that lives beyond the grave. The Reverso's cruel ticking reminds you what you already know, though. The sound of its impassive and ineluctable forward march seems amplified tenfold, drowning out your muffled cries.

When you look up another time, the room already looks bereft and it seems to quietly tell you that he's truly left this time.

Repost

For the sake of the drabble I HC him as wearing a JLC but deep in my heart he's a Vacheron Constantin guy

[penfz]

The Beginning

SukunaXFemReader (Modern AU)

Summary: Reader is in search for a babysitter for her daughter, Yuuji is in search of a part time job, and Sukuna is receiving an uncalled for nickname.

A/N: I apologize that there’s no clear timeline or order in the story, but I think I like it this way.

Also... apologies for any errors. I didn't proofread.

Sukuna X FemReader Master List

“Arghhh!”

This was probably the 5th baby sitter applicant Y/N had gone through. It was ok that you’re picky right? This is a stranger you would be entrusting your daughter too, and a stranger in your home.

Money technically wasn’t the problem, it was the lack of experience the applicants have. While yes, you would prefer a younger applicant, someone your daughter could get along with better, it was probably a better idea to hire someone older with more experience.

But then an applicant’s name caught your eye.

Yuuji Itadori had an honest application email, a highschool student looking for a part time job with minimum pay. He has no experience in looking after children, but he is good with kids. And, he’s your neighbour… technically his house was right behind yours.

Yeah, why not.

Within, the next hour, there was a knock on your door, and a young male with fluffy pink hair and a huge smile on his face, stood before you.

“Hi, I’m Yuuji Itadori.” He said as he reached his hand out for a handshake.

You smiled at his kind gesture, and shook his hand.

“Hi, I’m Y/N L/N. Please come in.” “You’re new to the neighborhood right?” Yuuji continued his friendly conversation, following you inside. “Yeah, almost 8 months ago.” You explained. “I never got to meet everyone in the neighborhood yet unfortunately, things have been busy since.” “That’s ok, my grandpa said he introduced himself to you before.” Yuuji grinned. “Oh! Yes, Mr. Wasuke Itadori! Such a kind man, how is he?” “Oh, he passed away a few months ago.” And then Yuuji’s smile faltered for a moment. “But he wouldn’t us to be sad.”

You paused for a moment, Yuuji’s words making you grieve for the kind older man. But Yuuji’s smile and reassurance, only made you smile back in return.

“Oh, your grandpa mentioned that you have an older brother. Is it just the 2 of you now?” You asked. “Yeah, he’s probably out right now at the gym. He’ll be home later. Did you want to meet him?” Yuuji asked curiously. “One day.” You laughed a bit. “Your grandpa mentioned he’s mean looking.” You joked. “Oh yeah he kind of is.” Yuuji thought about it, his playfulness in his tone still there. “I would say run if you ever see a mean looking guy in the neighborhood.” “This is good advice.” You laughed.

Yuuji’s interview started as a friendly conversation, to the introduction to your daughter, to your daughter asking him to stay for dinner, and then to the end of your search for a babysitter.

“So, are you still up to babysit Aika?” You asked as you and Aika dropped Yuuji off at his house. “Wait, really?!” Yuuji asked excitedly. “Yeah.” You smiled back. “You guys seem to get along really well, and you seem more then capable enough of taking care of her. Send me your schedule and we can start planning a working schedule.” “Alright!” Yuuji cheered out loud. “You hear that Aika, we can chill again soon! We can go to an arcade!” “And get icecream!” Aika cheered back. “And watch movies!” “And get popcorn!” “And play video games!” “And eat pizza!”

You smiled at the interaction between your daughter and Yuuji, but then began to wonder if she was hungry with the way she was listing food. And you just fed her too.

~

Yuuji entered the house as you and Aika started heading home.

“You’re home late, brat. Why didn’t you tell me what time you’re coming home?” “Oh, Suku-nii!” Yuuji smiled at his older brother. “Sorry, I had an interview for a baby sitting job and I got distracted.” “Baby sitting job?” Sukuna questioned, Yuuji doesn’t even have an experience baby sitting since he’s the youngest in the house. “How did that go?” “Great! I got the job!” Yuuji continued with his large grin.

Well Sukuna didn’t expect that bit of news.

“Oh? Congratulations kid.” Sukuna gave a small smile back, he was proud. “Who you babysitting?” “Her names Aika, she’s the neighbour behind us.” Yuuji explained as he pulled out his phone. “I just need to send her mom my school schedule, she doesn’t want baby sitting to interfere with school or homework.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow at that fact. He was thankful for that information, for he wanted Yuuji to concentrate on school and homework as well.

“Ok, well send me your work schedule when you get it so I know where you are. And give me your employers number, in case I can’t reach you.” Sukuna instructed as he started heading upstairs. “Okay!” Yuuji answered.

~

And this was the last thing Sukuna expected. Coming home from… a date? A fling? He wasn’t sure what to call it. He only stopped by a high end bar to grab a quick drink, after his new boss had went in on him about missed deadlines. It was there, that a young woman was flirting with him, which made his evening a little better. But, he didn’t expect to be coming home to two brats.

“Yuuji.” Sukuna addressed, as he noticed an extra pair of shoes at the door. Although a small child size. “I’m in the living room!” Yuuji yelled back. Sukuna signed with annoyance, brat wasn’t going to let him know he had a guest over?

Sukuna walked in, not expecting Yuuji to be doing his homework already. And definitely not expecting a young white haired female, to be asking Yuuji on her math homework.

“Yuuji! 5+3?” The young female asked. “I can’t give you the answers Aika.” Yuuji laughed as he furthered explained using the fruit he stole from the kitchen to aid her in her addition homework.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, he was impressed with the interaction between the two. In fact, the way Yuuji was teaching Aika addition, was the same way he taught him when he was younger.

“Oh, Suku- nii!” Yuuji called out with a large smile. “This is Aika, she’s the one I’m babysitting. Aika, this is my big brother.”

“Hi, nice to meet you Suki!” Aika called with a giant smile, one to rival Yuuji’s. Except no one else was smiling… as the Itadori brothers tried to figure out who the f*uk this child was calling ‘Suki’.

“Suki…?” Yuuji asked confused. “Suki.” Aika repeated as she pointed at Sukuna. Poor guy just met her and he’s already received a female name as a nickname.

And Yuuji was no help, he was already laughing.

Sukuna could only sigh. Wtf.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part Two)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warning: Incest (at this stage implied), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Mild Smut

Words: 4,878

Summary:

This plays after Grace’s death but before Tommy becomes a politician. Lizzie is pregnant with Tommy’s child, so it is somewhere around season four.

In this fic, Tommy suffers from episodes of PTSD and so does the reader, resulting from trauma and abuse. They will help and save each other without realising that their connection is much stronger than they could have anticipated.

There will be love, fluff and smut as well as a highly taboo relationship.

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE! 

QUESTION: WHO IS TOMMY TO THE READER? WHOOPS!

The following morning…

The following morning, you woke up at 4 o’clock after hearing a loud bang, followed right by another. Your neighbour was clearly beating on his wife again and you wondered when she would finally leave him and this awful marriage of hers behind.

She reminded you of your mother. Your very own mother who, for almost eighteen years, had failed to protect you and protect herself from the monster who was your stepfather.

He was the cause of your pain and suffering, hurting you and abusing you, physically and mentally, until you ran away. But still, you were one of the lucky ones having been spared the sexual abuse and assault on your womanhood. He tried, but never quite got there. Thank God.

God? What God? Was there something like a God? You decided, probably not and then there it was again, the darkness which consumed you. You had no faith and the quiet sobs at night time that no one knew about came on creeping in. The urges that overwhelmed you started to haunt you once more and the intrusive thoughts and the fear of physical contact became a stark reminder of what you have been through.

You hated every god damn moment of this but, at least today, you had something to look forward to. There was someone who was giving you a chance, an opportunity and legal employment. Although, really, the legality of this man’s businesses was questionable and you knew that. But you did not care.

He was the kind of man your mother had warned you about and yet, there was something which intrigued you about him.  His demure, his attitude and his intelligence stood out to you and so did his god damn blue eyes.

Thus, with some reluctance, you eventually rolled out of bed and turned on the light. You looked down on yourself, still wearing your nightgown and, for the first time in a very long time, you saw a woman who was willing to change. It was not just about surviving anymore. It was about gaining something. Something important and real, whatever that may be.

A week ago, when you looked at yourself in the mirror, all you could see were your scars. Even now, having tattooed over some of them, the scars were still visible and you knew that they would always be.

But, this may not necessarily be a bad thing as the scars no longer defined who you are but, rather, were the remainder of times during which you were in an enormous amount of emotional pain.  

On your wrist, you featured a tattoo with the words “this story isn’t over” and, whilst in today’s society, pre 1930, tattoos were frowned upon if worn by women, on the days when shame overwhelmed you, and when you felt like you could no longer go on, you looked at your tattoo and reminded yourself that your story certainly was not over yet. In fact, it had only just begun as, clearly, today was going to be the day your life would change and you felt strongly about it. You had a feeling that, today, something great would happen to you and, with that in mind, you put on a dress which, too, was stolen, and a pair of heels which were just a little too high for you to walk in. You even wore a hat which, again, you misappropriated from a small shop downtown and tugged your hair back into a neat bun with some pearl clips.

For your first day at work, you wanted to look professional even though you had no experience in administerial work whatsoever and did not quite understand what your role at Shelby Company Limited would entail.

Later at the Small Heath Gambling Den…

“That’s her, surely” Lizzie spat as Linda and her watched you walk through the door of the gambling den which, to you, was hard to find. You heard them talk about you and were nervous like a young girl on her first day of school. This was your first proper job and you were excited about it.

“You must be Y/N, Thomas’s new secretary” Lizzie then said before assessing you from top to bottom. The fact that she used his first name to refer to him surprised you but when she told you that she was about to be laid up, the situation became much more obvious to you. She was carrying his child, but he clearly did not love her enough to marry her. Typical.

“I am Y/N, but did you just say that I will be the new secretary?” you asked with great surprise while a cold shiver ran down your spine. You could neither read nor write, so how on earth would you be able to fulfill this role you wondered?

“Yes, you will be a secretary to Thomas Shelby who, I may add, is very demanding in many ways” Lizzie exclaimed in response to your question.

“No doubt he is” you simply responded while glancing at her growing bump with a little jealousy perhaps, seeing that you took at least a mild interest in your new employer.

“I assume you have experience and this is why he hired you?” was the next question Lizzie asked you and she now spoke to you in an almost snobbish way, looking down on you which, of course, was not too difficult. She was much taller than you after all and absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous.

“Actually, no, I do not! I have no experience in this line of work. I only met Mr Shelby last night and he offered me a job. I didn’t even know what the job would entail but, stupidly enough, I accepted anyway as I need the money” you explained with honesty and this surprised Lizzie who, clearly, was expecting some competition at the den.

“Where did you meet?” another woman then asked before shaking your hand and introducing herself as Polly Gray. She was clearly of authority around here and took a good look at you as well.

The way she looked at you however was different to the way Lizzie looked at you. Lizzie’s looks were filled with anger, fear and concern as well as some jealousy, whereas Polly’s looks were filled with questions about your identity. She saw a familiarity inside of you which she could not explain.

“Have we met before? You seem familiar” she observed but you shook your head.

“Not that I know off” you told her but Polly’s intuition told her to keep an eye on you and figure out to whom you belonged. She felt a connection towards you and this was not necessarily a good thing.

“Very well, so tell me again, where did you and Tommy meet last night?” she then asked and you swallowed harshly.

“At Madam Juans” you then admitted, causing Polly to roll her eyes and laugh while Lizzie stormed off and took a seat behind her desk which, apparently, would become your desk soon.

“Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me” Polly chuckled while giving you a sorry pat on the back and you were quick to shake your head in order to correct her.

“Oh no. You misunderstand. We did not have intimate relations” you blurted out quickly without admitting that, in fact, you had never even been kissed before. Intimacy was alien to you and you were afraid of being hurt by a man in any physical kind of way after your stepfather had beaten the living hell out of you for years.

“You did not have sex?” Lizzie asked, confused. “But you are a whore?” she then queried and you shook your head.

“No. I am not. I am waitress there. That is all” you explained while Polly chuckled again.

“Interesting, but unfortunately, I must go now. I have several meetings to attend to Lizzie will show you the robes around here and, no doubt, Thomas will be in his office sometime today, or not. You never know with him” Polly said before making an elegant exit from the den while pondering on about your identity and Tommy’s urge to employ you without consulting with her first.

Several hours later…

Several more hours had passed and you were shown how to take calls and take notes which, luckily for you, Lizzie still had control over.

You had not yet admitted to her that you could neither read nor write and you knew that, as soon as she would find out, all hell would break loose.

Since you started at nine o’clock that morning, Tommy too had arrived in his office but, without even greeting you or Lizzie, he closed the door behind him and you had not heard from him since.

Lizzie informed you that, on occasion, he likes to keep to himself and, clearly, today was one of those occasions.

“Can you type?” she eventually asked and you shook your head before, finally, she saw you to her desk.

“Of course you can’t. That is not why he hired you” she then murmured under her breath and you queried what she had meant by that.

“Pardon?” you began to say and Lizzie sighed while setting up the typewriter for you.

“Never mind. I will have to fucking show you how to type then, don’t I?” she spat and then began dictating a letter to you which, clearly, you failed to transcribe properly.

“You can’t write” she then observed angrily and you nervously shook your head. You were embarrassed and nervous about loosing this job, the money for which you needed so desperately.

“Well, then me teaching you is absolutely pointless” Lizzie then said before storming off and into Tommy’s office without even bothering to knock first.

***

Several minutes later, and after some shouting and yelling from behind closed doors, you saw Lizzie again but she did not speak with you. She simply reached for her coat and bag, before storming off and leaving the den a little less graciously than Polly Gray did earlier that day. Clearly, she was angered by the fact that you were working here and you well and truly hoped that Tommy would not fire you over this.

But then again, who were you kidding, right? You could neither read nor write, so what would he do with you? Put you up in a factory, perhaps?

And then, there it was…the moment you feared…

“Y/N, a word please” Tommy said to you while poking his head through the door and you immediately jumped up from your seat and stumbled towards his office.

The height of your new heels certainly did not help with your trembling legs and, as you were fidgeting nervously when entering his office, you tripped and almost twisted your ankle.

‘I am sorry Mr Shelby’ you huffed out with embarrassment as you watched him watching you stumbling into the side of the bookshelf.

It was obvious to you that he tried hard not to laugh about what had just happened, but a small chuckle escaped him nonetheless.

‘Love, please take them off before you hurt yourself, eh’ Tommy said with a half-smile but it was when he looked at you directly that you felt your hands inevitably began to shake slightly. You weren’t that intimidated by him when you saw him at the brothel last night and you wondered yourself what had changed since then, within a span of twenty hours. He was your employer now, sure, but was that it? Or was there something more to it? Maybe it was the fact that he was about to fire you which made you nervous or maybe it was him, his eyes and his intoxicating scent.

Even though Tommy was slightly amused by your little accident, his eyes were both your favourite and least favourite feature about him. You noticed them last night too, so intimidating and yet soothing all at the same time. They were deep blue, and absolutely piercing when he made direct eye contact. It gave you a strange sense of fear, and you now found yourself looking down when you spoke to him, afraid that, if you made direct eye contact, you might lose your train of thought.

‘Have a seat next to me’ Tommy then instructed after you took off your shoes and approached his desk, tippy toeing across the very cold wooden floor.

He then glanced at your shoes again and smirked. “You stole them, didn’t you?” he asked and you nodded shyly.

“Yes. I did” you said, chuckling nervously.

“Well, perhaps next time, you should steal some shoes you can actually walk in Love” Tommy said with a great sense of amusement before asking you a very important question.

“Do you know what I do for a living?” he wanted to know and you shook your head.

“I have heard stories, but I don’t believe them to be true. I know that you own factories and gambling dens, but that is all” you said shyly, causing Tommy to cock his eyebrows.

“Tell me honestly Love, do you not believe them to be true or do you not want them to be true. Because, the way I see it, there is a distinct difference between those two scenarios” Tommy then said before pulling a chair to his side and gesturing for you to sit down.

“Okay. I know that some of what you do is probably illegal, but I do not care. I just want this job” you told Tommy who smirked before giving you a slight nod.

“You want the job, eh?” Tommy asked with a smirk on his face before handing you his pen. “Then write down the names of every mistress taking pay offs from my customers at Madam Juans” Tommy then said and you immediately had to grasp for air.

“I can’t” you said, fidgeting again before realising quickly how terribly embarrassing you must have looked in front of this man right now. This was not the look you were aiming for.

‘Do I intimidate you Love? Is that why you cannot write down the names?’ Tommy then asked bluntly, looking at you with a slight smirk on his face again as you continued to fidget even more nervously now.

‘No Mr Shelby’ you said nervously, causing him to chuckle.  

‘No?’ he then asked with a smug smile and you immediately looked away from him. This was too much for you and, if he had not asked you another question right away, drilling you for an answer, you would have stood up and left.

‘Look at me and tell me the truth Y/N. Do I intimidate you?’ Tommy asked again and you complied with his request and told him the truth.

‘Yes, you intimidate me. But that is not the reason I cannot write down the names’ you said shyly while looking into his piercing blue eyes.

‘You can’t write or read, can you?’ Tommy then said almost gently and it was clear to you that he already knew. Lizzie must have told him and he was simply teasing you now, playing a game of some sort.  

“No, I can’t write and I can’t read” you admitted reluctantly and it was at this point that Tommy lid himself a cigarette and leaned back into his chair.

“In that case, you are fired as a secretary” he smirked, causing you to gasp for air again. You were devastated, needing this job and the money he had offered you.

“I understand” you said nonetheless and Tommy smiled.

“But, I have another job for you Love” he then said, taking you by surprise. “Just because you did not learn how to write or read doesn’t mean that you are not smart and smart people is what I need right now as my export business is expanding” he then said before asking you to pour him and yourself a glass of whiskey.

‘You think that I am smart, do you?” you asked, causing Tommy to chuckle once more.

“I know that you are smart. You stole from my patrons and you got away with it for several months. You just couldn’t fool me, eh” Tommy observed before making another sly remark. “In fact, no one can fool me” he determined and you broke out in a giggle.

“Really? No one?” you asked as you stood up and walked over towards the desk on which the whiskey bottles were standing and, just as you walked there, you could feel Tommy’s eyes on you, watching you as you walked across his office barefooted.

“No, no one I have met so far” Tommy said while taking in your natural beauty and the scent you left behind.

“You are very full of yourself” you then said as you took hold of a whiskey bottle and poured two glasses from it before walking back with them to where Tommy was sitting.

“And you do not believe in yourself or your abilities Love. We need to change that” Tommy then said as you sat back down and handed him a glass while taking the other for yourself.

***

Just as you were sipping on your whiskey while talking with Tommy about the mistresses at Madam Juan and the job he had for you, you began to relax a little. Your mind was clearly eased by the effects of the alcohol you consumed and you began to realise why Lizzie took a liking in this man.

He was incredibly attractive but also charming in his very own and somewhat brutal way. Then there was his voice, low and gruffy, making it difficult for you to concentrate. He was burdened with intellect and, for some reason, he spoke to you as if you were his kin.

You drank and spoke for hours. You talked about your life which Tommy seemed to be interested in. He asked you about your family ties, doing his research on your background before revealing more of his businesses to you.

You told him about your mother but purposely omitted reference to your father.

“What about your father?” he thus asked and you sighed deeply.

“I never knew my father. My mother always said that he was a dangerous man so she kept me away from him. All I know is that he went to France with his two younger brothers and never came back” you said, causing Tommy to furrow his eyebrows. This, he did not know about you but, before he could question you about your biological father again, you explained to him that you grew up with your mother and your stepfather who you considered to be an evil man.

“Did he do this to you?” Tommy then asked while trying to get hold of one of your wrists but you pulled away abruptly in fear.

“Please don’t” you said and Tommy was quick to apologise. Your wrists were clearly off limit and he respected that.  

“I am sorry Love. I did not intend to hurt you” he was then quick to say after seeing your reaction. You had almost dropped your glass to the floor and started fidgeting again.

“It’s fine…and no, I did this to myself” you told him, which is when he recalled that, at the brothel, you too were afraid of his touch and he knew that there must have been a reason for this. There was something that bothered you. You clearly did not like to be held or restrained and he wondered what it was that made you so fearful.

In addition to that, Tommy remembered that, at the brothel, you were wearing long satin gloves, seemingly in an attempt to hide your scars, of which he got a closer look now. Your arms were covered in them and, once again, you tried to cover them up with your jacket.

“Let’s talk about something else, eh” Tommy eventually suggested after you began to feel rather vulnerable around him and, with that, you nodded before simply listening to Tommy’s ideas about how to improve his businesses and how he thought you could help him with that. This conversation took at least another hour and you were in a cheerful mood again. You were laughing and, much to his very own surprise, Tommy did the same. He laughed, genuinely, for the first time in two years.

As you were talking about business, you stammered out some ideas as well, easing into the conversation as you scribbled down a point in your notebook that you were sure would make no sense to your later.

“So you can write” Tommy then observed sarcastically and you shook your head.

“Barely and not without spelling mistakes” you chuckled just before Tommy asked you to pour the two of you some more whiskey.

‘Yes, of course Mr Shelby’ you said, looking at your watch before walking back over towards the sideboard and pouring Tommy and yourself another glass of Irish single malt.

‘Please, just call me Tommy, eh’ he said as you handed him back his glass, causing you to smile.

‘Okay, Tommy, but if this is your way of making an advance towards me, then I must disappoint you…” you teased and, whilst this was meant to come across as a joke, Tommy did not see it that way and cut you off.

“Love, if I was to make an advance towards you, then I would not be doing it through words” Tommy chuckled before moving on. “I would be doing this instead…” he then said before, ever so gently, caressing your face and then, in a careful but calculated move, pressing his soft lips against yours in order to see how you would react.

You immediately froze but allowed the kiss to happen nonetheless. It was your very first kiss and it happened so suddenly; with a man you barely knew but who, for whatever reason, you trusted enough to take this further.

You just had a feeling about him. It was a feeling of comfort and safety and you knew that, provided that his hands remained where they were now, namely caressing your cheeks, you would be able to tolerate his touch, and perhaps even enjoy it.

When he kissed you passionately, you could sense that he was taking it slowly. As such, the kiss was reluctant at first and you could taste the remnants of smoke and whiskey on his lips.

 His lips were so surprisingly soft and smooth against your own and, as Tommy moved them sensually, a warmth flooded your body, causing you to feel desired for the time in your life.

 There was no pressure or force in this kiss. It was tender and calm and you felt Tommy’s lips massage every inch of your mouth in the most sensual way.

 His rough thumbs moved over the soft skin on your cheeks, over and over again and, without hesitation, you responded to his touch, your passion increasing the longer it went on.

 With every second that passed, there was a new sensation you had to take in and it was after at least a minute that Tommy reached out slightly with his tongue. He ran the tip along the length of your lips, probing away where you joined, seeking an opportunity to dip inside. By now, your mind was awash with arousal, a sensation which, too, was alien and foreign to you. Any apprehension you had just vanished, and you just wanted more.

 You gasped under your breath and your hands eventually found their way into Tommy’s hair. No sooner had you parted your lips, no sooner had you given him an opening, than you felt the tip of his tongue ease inside. You gasped once more as your tongues touched, a sense of electricity passing through you.

 The more you kissed, the more you relaxed. The more you relaxed, the more you wanted him. And, the more you wanted him, the more you felt your arousal stir.

 What on earth was this feeling? So strange. So alien. So goddamn amazing…until, suddenly Tommy pulled away. He broke the kiss, leaving you wanting for more. You started to protest, but Tommy simply brought a finger to your lips urging you not to continue.

 "I am sorry Love” Tommy spoke softly.

 “For kissing me?” you queried while shyly bringing your middle and index finger to your lips, feeling them after they have been kissed for the very first time. They felt swollen and moist and you bit your lower lip inadvertently, wanting to feel Tommy’s mouth against yours again.

 “No, that I am not sorry for” Tommy chuckled. “But I am sorry for my motive having been two-fold when offering you employment at my company. So, I must ask, do you still want the job knowing that I have taken an interest in you?” Tommy then asked and you blushed.

“Well, Tommy…” you began to say while trying to find your words. “Yes. In fact, I believe that my appetite for the position in your company has just increased quite drastically” you then said shyly while Tommy caressed your cheek again.

 “Good. I am glad” Tommy smiled before kissing you once more, this time more briefly. He knew that this must have been a first for you and he also knew that you must have been about fifteen years younger than him. He could tell by the way you had reacted to his onslaught and, with that in mind, he didn’t take it any further than that. He was patient, giving you time, regardless of how much he wanted you and, the truth was, that he wanted you a lot. He wanted you more than anyone else since the day he had met Grace. He was in awe with you and, feeling that way again, worried him. He felt alive and when he felt alive, he knew that he would do dangerous things.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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@camilleholland89

@forgottenpeakywriter

@fmo166

@foofarny

@vintagecherryt

@indierockgirrl 

@mrkdvidal1989​

@bluesongbird​

@dudde-44​

@gasolinesavages​

@kissforvoid​

@bluebird592

@1eugenia1isabella1​

@esposadomdp

@lulunalua23

[hrts4hanniehae]

clutch || two

there are written parts :)

warning: mentions of parental abuse (emotional), mental breakdown, blood

her move into her new shared apartment was fairly quick, considering all her stuff were still in boxes at minghao's house.

"luckily you found a new place the same week jun is moving in with me." - minghao

"my only friend abandoned me for his boyfriend. i'm so sad." - yn

he dropped a box into her arms. "i'd have let you stay longer, you know? but luckily my friend wonwoo had a room free."

"how do you know him anyways?" - yn

"we were schoolmates from high school all the way to college. he studied computer science in university so we split up." - minghao

"so what do all your friends do now?" - yn

"seungcheol is a rapper under woozi's production label. jeonghan is a model. joshua owns a company that makes jewellery. jun is an actor, hoshi is a dancer/choreographer." - minghao

"i've met hoshi before, right?" - yn

"while he was drunk, yes. wonwoo is a gaming streamer, woozi is a music producer and co-owns an entertainment company with hoshi. mingyu is a celebrity chef. dokyeom is a florist and a theatre actor. seungkwan is a model and a show host, and vernon is a model. dino is a soloist under woozi and hoshi's company." - minghao

"ah. so you all have faces blessed by genetics... great." - yn

amid her rant, she could feel herself begin to cry. where did it all go wrong? she was just a girl who wanted to be an artist. she didn't ask to not be "pretty" according to her mother.

she was a child born to be an experiment. her parents experimented with parenting on her. she was the 1.0 -- the start but never the finish.

in her rage, she threw her phone at the wall and punched a hole in her sculpture. but before she could succumb to her pain and just cry... her phone chimed.

"well, that was weird..." he muttered to himself, but he started his stream anyways.

gam3boiftw: HE'S BACCKKKKK

wonwoono.1fan: life update!!!!!!

"you want a life update? okay. so this streaming site decided to take 30% of my earnings every stream, and my apartment's rent went up so i've been busy dealing with that. it's okay now though. seollie is still very healthy... and i may be doing a vlog when i meet up with my friends next week. that's it."

gamegamebo1: play valorant.

gam3boiftw: no he should play a relaxing game

wonwo0o0o0o: nah he should play a gacha game.

"i'll play a few rounds of valorant... then maybe cookie run kingdom if it's not too late. don't blame me if i lose because i'm rusty."

-

obviously, he won all the games he played.

fbwovbero: no move the tree left some more. align it with the train

rebveornvp: no move it to the right!

"chill i know what i'm do-"

"OH FUCK!!"

a sudden shout from the room opposite his scares the daylights out of him.

gam3boiftw: wtf was that?!?!??!

fkbnenveln: help??!??!?!

"sorry i think that was my neighbour. let me go check it out, give me a few minutes."

while shaving down the side of her wood carving, she was distracted and sliced the knife along her palm, splitting it open. deep.

"OH FUCK-" oh shit. she slapped her hands over her mouth at her outburst, smearing blood all over her face. she didn't mean to shout so loud.

"oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god what the fuck do i do??????"

her door suddenly burst open.

"what h- oh my god are you okay?" - wonwoo

"i'm so sorry for shouting. i'm fine. i'll just go sort my hand out. go back to your stream." - yn

"the blood isn't from your nose?" - wonwoo

"why would the blood be from my nose?" - yn

"there's blood all over your face." - wonwoo

"OH MY GOD- oh shit sorry. i'll just go deal with this. i'm so sorry." - yn

she pushed past him, running to the bathroom to examine her cut. it was deep and bleeding non-stop.

"what the fuck do i do..."

"i ended my stream. let me drive you to the hospital." - wonwoo

wonwoo was standing in the doorway of the toilet.

"do you mind?" - yn

"you're injured. of course, i don't mind. safety first." - wonwoo

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ💓ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ badum.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

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tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour @heesbees

[thestalwartheart]

James Bond doesn’t like crowds.

Q’s only just started noticing. He supposes the fact that he’s noticed at all is a result of spending more time with Bond outside the office and the field.

Dating, some people might call it. He and Bond never bother to call it anything.

Really, the aversion to crowds should have been obvious. Q doesn’t like that it’s taken him long to catch on, but now that he knows, it throws a dozen past conversations in a different light.

Whenever Q suggests taking the Tube anywhere, Bond declines and offers to drive instead. It's something Q has, until now, put down to a) Bond’s well-known love of cars and b) a snobbish disdain for public transport. On their admittedly rare weekends away, Bond never suggests a city break. They always go somewhere quiet; often, it’s somewhere rural. Q had assumed it was because they live in a city (at least he does—Bond never stays anywhere long enough to be considered a local), and Bond was keen to shag him somewhere without the kind of walls the neighbours could hear through.

But there are tells to say otherwise.

Chief among them is the one in front of him right now. In the middle of Trafalgar Square, which is bustling with the signs of weekend life, Q tries to link his arm with Bond’s.

Bond flinches at his touch.

“James?”

Bond pointedly doesn’t look at him, though he does relax ever so slightly under Q’s hand. Yet, as they walk on, Q can tell there’s something still off.

“You know,” says Q, at the bottom of some of the most famous stairs in London, “I’m not much in the mood for art, after all.”

It was a romantic idea to come to the National Gallery. To see the Turner paintings again. To listen to Bond groan at Q playing the pretentious art critic while he reduced all the nude paintings down to cheeky one-liners. It was, perhaps, too romantic an idea for what they are to each other. Q parks that thought, leaves it to worry about in the midnight hours. The more pressing matter is that it’s too uncomfortable for Bond to be here at all.

“You’re terrible at lying,” Bond tells him.

“Yes, well. So are you, sometimes.” Q looks around at the busy square. The sky is turning that dark and foreboding grey that signals rain is on the way. The fountains look dull and coppery under it. “I know you hate crowds. What do you say we get out of here and go for a drink?”

It’s a gamble. It’s always a gamble trying to guess at Bond’s moods, but today, the gamble pays off. Bond offers Q a fond, relieved smile and squeezes the hand Q has resting on his arm.

“Thank you.”

Inside, Q warms. No doubt it shows on his cheeks. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss against Bond’s chapped, chilly mouth, one that promises more kisses to come. It’s the kind of kiss Q likes best: slow and thoughtful. Cosy.

All the while, he promises himself that he’ll pay more attention to Bond’s tells. He prides himself on knowing his agents, after all. What sort of Quartermaster—what sort of friend or, well, whatever—would he be if he didn’t?

[iheartzegras]

different type of love -jack hughes

request: @your-mom369 14 and 18 with jack?

prompts: “i don’t want to be just friends anymore” and “what’s the matter? you can tell me”

requests are still open, and my prompt list is pinned!

——————————————————————————

you and jack had been best friends since the first grade. inseparable really. you both never left each others side, no matter the distance between you two for hockey, you still talked daily.

it all started when you had moved to toronto during the summer. you just so happened to become neighbours with the soon to be familiar boys. as your parents were taking the boxes inside from the van, you saw jack and his brothers playing outside. jack particularly caught your eye because of his energy. you were normally a shy girl, but he really did look like he would be a fun person to stick with.

a couple minutes later you felt a tap on your shoulder. standing behind you is the boy that interested you the most. he held out his hand and introduced himself. “hi. im jack, i live next door!” he said while grinning like a fool. “hi, im y/n” you shyly said. “it’s okay, don’t be shy! wanna be friends?” “yeah sure!”

that one small introduction, lead to a lifetime friendship. after that day, the two of you, occasionally his brothers that you found to be quinn and luke, would always play after school. even at school, the two of you would stay by each other’s side the whole time.

fast forward until now

ever since you and Jack became best friends, his family invited you to the lake house every year. this year in particular you were extra excited because you got to see jack. you hadn’t seen jack since he moved to new jersey for hockey.

after packing your things, you began your drive to the lake house. it was quite a long drive, so after making some stops on the way there, you finally arrived. it looked just the same. the deja vu coming back every time you came.

waking inside you were greeted by luke and quinn who both yelled “y/n!” at the same time. although your bond with jack was seemingly better, you also were incredibly close to the pair of brothers as you practically grew up with them. you were like a sister to them, and they were like your brothers.

as you walked into your designated room, it was refreshing. everything still in its place from last summers events. this space was your comfort place. the smell of the room just like your perfume. you plopped right on your bed, and before you knew, you were dead asleep.

you were harshly awoken by a tall figure jumping next to you on the bed. with your vision blurry you tried to see who it was. looking a bit closer you realized, it was jack. oh how you missed him too much. you practically jumped into his arms and giving him the most loving hug you’ve ever given.

“jack!” “y/n!” the two of you yelled in synch. you both dove into another hug, but this time with passion. that was new. to say that you haven’t thought of you and jack being a couple, was a lie. you definitely have, but you brushed it off because you felt as though it would never work. maybe some old feelings were being brought back up.

later on, after dinner, some of the other friends showed up. trevor who you had grown close with greeted you with a big hug and then whispered something into your ear. “so, you and hughesy? i think you’ve got something going on” to which you replied with “what, where did that come from? and no, we’re just friends.”

all of you were sitting by the fire roasting some s’mores. everyone was busy, but you couldn’t help but replay what trevor said to you earlier. could jack feel anything or was he just joking? do you like jack more than a friend? too many things crowded your mind as you tried to relax but couldn’t. you needed to be alone to gather your thoughts.

“hey guys, im gonna head off to bed. goodnight!” you announced and hugged each of them. when you got to your room, you had changed into some shorts and an old t-shirt. you got into your welcoming bed and tried to doze off.

after hours of trying to fall asleep, you couldn’t. you had been restless all night and nothing helped. you decided to sit on the deck to see if the cool night air would help.

opening the door to the deck, you stepped outside and quietly shut it. you took your favourite seat that you had claimed to be yours, and sat down. you had gotten all trapped looking at the stars that you hadn’t noticed that someone had joined you. “what’re you doing out here all alone?” jack asked. “nothing, just couldn’t sleep. that’s all.”

too much silence had been happening for your liking. you look over at jack and said something truly bold. “have you ever thought of us as something more than friends?” you asked. he responded with “yes, actually. why? what’s the matter? you can tell me.”

after more silence you quietly said “i don’t want to be just friends anymore” “pardon?” he asked you to repeat. “i don’t want to be just friends anymore” you repeated louder.

jack was astounded. he wasn’t upset though, because secretly he had felt the same way all along. he paused for a minutes before responding again. “thank god. i couldn’t deal with the pain of being just friends for any longer. i’ve liked you since we were sixteen and skating laps around the rink holding hands.” he admitted. “really?” “yes. y/n, this is a big question, but will you be my girlfriend?” “yes of course jack!”

the new couple sat happily next to each other before jack took you inside to get some rest. the two of you cuddled for the rest of the night.

your childhood friendship had blossomed into something much more passionate and loving. as a small child, you would have thought such love would be intimidating and gross, but now, you feel so much more. it’s indescribable how much you feel for the man you love. it had only been a few minutes since he asked you to be his, but you already knew, he was the one.

——————————————————————————

ahhh, omg! im in love with this fic!

this was one of my longest pieces (i’ll still try and write longer in the future)

hope you all enjoyed! 🫶🫶