#-> loaded in the dirty ones - cleaned up the kitchen sink

[honeybreadbee]

Today's mood is atrocious say sike

[foldingfittedsheets]

Since I already have established myself as a little pickle freak with no shame I have another extremely embarrassing story that will probably make you laugh.

When I started dating Brendan he was still living at home, but after we'd been dating a while he and his best friend Charlie decided to move in together. Another friend of theirs was looking for roommates and they decided to go for it. It was the lower level of a house.

Here's where I need to set the stage a little. Looking back on the time I spent in that space, I don't actually even know if it could have been nice under other circumstances. I feel almost pity for that house, full of young disgusting boys. Bare and wretched, it had minimal threadbare furniture, no decorations, and the guy who lived there already was hands down the most disgusting person I've ever met.

Not his character, but his habits. This boy's name was Josh. I genuinely don't know if their moving in with Josh was a handshake deal or if they saw the place beforehand. No sane person would ever have chosen to live there otherwise, I feel certain.

There was a kitchen. Sorta. But like. Was there a kitchen? Every counter, the whole sink, everything was just covered in dirty dishes. Brendan and Charlie said, "Josh, you need to do the dishes, we can't even wash anything cause it's so full of dirty dishes."

Josh's response to being asked to clean was to load all the dirty dishes onto a blanket. And then he dragged that blanket down the hall into the laundry room.

Crusted on residue, molding slimes, and horrible odors arose as he moved the blanket. After two months they said, "Josh, you can't just leave your dirty dishes on a blanket in the laundry room."

Josh's response was to drag the blanket of misery and miasmas into his room instead.

Josh didn't shower very much and he was a big guy. At one point I walked past his door when it opened. His girlfriend was crossing to the bathroom and I almost dry heaved directly in front of her. The smell of rotting foot, dried on sweat, and sex musk swirled together into the most eye watering assault my nose had ever faced.

So that's where our story takes place. A home of no hand towels, no soap by the bathroom sink, a blanket covered in months of early-twenties depression dishes.

I was meeting some of these people for the first time on the night of our story. Josh had a crew of two others guys who just hung around constantly. So it's me and five dudes hanging out, chatting, ignoring the various smell scapes to live in the moment. Josh left briefly to go pee.

Then I felt a stabbing in my guts. I shot a panicked look to Brendan and casually said I had to pee too. At that time in my life I was experiencing some of the most god awful IBS I've ever experienced. I knew I was going to make a crime scene in there. To my dismay there was no fan to turn on. But Brendan, like the champion partner he was, started telling a story at extremely high volume to cover the sound of my anus exploding under the force of my anxiety poops.

When I flushed and turned to the sink, I was dismayed. There was no soap. I looked around the bare bathroom and didn't see anything useful. No one had ever wanted to wash their hands here before. I then looked over the tub and spotted a tiny window that I wasn't tall enough to open. I wanted to let out the truly rank and terrible smell I had filled the bathroom with, but I had to give that up as impossible.

I slipped out and quietly said, "Hey, is there dish soap or something to wash my hands?"

"Oh," said one of Josh's friends, "There's a bar of soap by the window, let me grab it for you." This was not unreasonable, because again, I couldn't reach the window but I was doused in fear at the ridicule I was about to face.

He went to the door of the bathroom and literally staggered back from the unholy smell I'd left there. He had his arms up as if to protect his face from the malevolent beast my bowels had left behind. When he turned to us there was tears standing in his eyes.

In this house of awful smells and terrible hygiene, I was the stinkiest monster of all, bringing this boy to tears. I broke out in a sweat, ready to cry myself at the shame that was about to be cast upon me.

But instead. He said, "JOSH!"

"I can't believe you dude! Oh my god! That is the nastiest shit I've ever smelled!!" He waved the door frantically to dilute the awful power of my shit and then plowed through to open the window and air out the bathroom, passing me the soap. "I can't BELIEVE you had to go in there after him, oh my god, use the kitchen sink to wash your hands! It's gnarly!"

Everyone turned to rag on Josh for the newest addition to the gallery of smells in the house and he didn't look at me once. He laughed and pulled my shame onto his shoulders with grace, taking the bullet for me like a true hero. Only Brendan and I knew I was the stinky villain.

Josh never brought it up after, but I remain grateful to this day.

[libingan]

— tf141 calling you “ma’am.”

no smut, only fluff

JOHN PRICE

you’re preparing for a cozy movie night and have a specific vision in mind. you turn to john with a list of tasks. “john, could you move that armchair closer to the middle? i want to make sure we get enough light for our movie marathon,” you instruct.

john flashes a playful grin and replies, “yes, ma’am.” he lifts the armchair with ease, carefully positioning it just where you want it. he checks it from different angles to ensure it’s perfect, making sure the light hits just right. once he’s satisfied, he looks over with a smile. “what’s next, ma’am?”

you direct him to arrange the snacks. “the popcorn goes on the left side of the table, and the chips on the right. make it look inviting,” you say. john nods, his focus clearly on creating the perfect setup. “on it, ma’am,” he says, arranging each item with meticulous care.

after setting up the snacks, you notice the pillows on the couch look a bit out of place. “can you fluff these pillows a bit more? i want them to look just right,” you request. john chuckles softly and responds, “absolutely, ma’am,” as he fluffs each pillow to perfection. he checks and re-checks their placement, making sure they’re exactly how you like them.

as you think of more details to perfect the evening, you ask him to adjust the drinks. “the drinks need to be kept on one side, can you do that ?” john adjusts the drinks with a practiced hand, saying, “yes, ma’am.”

by the time you’re done with all the adjustments, john has followed your directions to the letter. his willingness to accommodate your every request highlights his affection and dedication to making the evening special for you.

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

you’re preparing for a shopping trip and have gathered a large number of items. you turn to kyle with a stack of bags and hand him the first one. “kyle, can you hold onto this for me?” you ask, passing him the first bag.

“yes, ma’am,” kyle replies with a grin, taking the bag from you. as you continue to collect more items, you hand him another. “and this one too, please.”

kyle shifts the bags to balance them better and responds, “yes, ma’am,” taking the new item with ease. you keep adding more bags, and each time, kyle responds with a cheerful “yes, ma’am,” as he adjusts his hold.

after a while, you’ve accumulated quite a stack of bags and packages. you hand him a few more smaller items, each time asking him to hold onto them. “i’ve got a few more things,” you say, handing over the last items.

“yes, ma’am,” kyle says, adjusting his grip to accommodate the new load. despite the growing pile of bags, he maintains a good-natured demeanor. “anything else you need me to carry, ma’am?” he asks with a smile. his readiness to help shows his enjoyment in being of service to you.

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

you’ve caught johnny leaving dirty dishes around the kitchen and decide it’s time for a chat. “johnny, we need to talk about cleaning up after yourself,” you say, trying to keep it light-hearted.

johnny looks a bit sheepish but responds with a nod. “aye, alright, ma’am,” he says, picking up a plate and heading to the sink. he starts rinsing off the remnants of his meal, scrubbing the plate with a determined focus.

as he works, you continue the conversation. “you know, johnny, leaving dishes everywhere makes more work for everyone.” johnny nods, scrubbing away. “aye, i ken, ma’am,” he replies, giving the plate a final rinse before moving on to the next one.

you notice a few utensils left behind. “don’t forget to wash the utensils too,” you remind him. johnny looks up with a grin and says, “aye, i’ll get tae it, ma’am,” as he tackles the utensils with the same thoroughness.

once he’s done with the dishes, you point out some crumbs on the counter. “and don’t forget to wipe down the counters,” you add. johnny grabs a cloth and starts cleaning, his tone still light-hearted. “got it, ma’am,” he replies as he meticulously wipes down every surface.

as he finishes up, you mention the floor needs sweeping. “the floor needs to be swept too,” you say. johnny grabs the broom and starts sweeping. “anything else ye need, ma’am?” he asks with a playful tone, clearly taking your instructions to heart while maintaining a light-hearted approach.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

you’re relaxing on the couch, lost in a book, when simon quietly enters the room with a tray. “i thought you might need this, ma’am,” he says softly, setting down a steaming cup of tea on the coffee table next to you.

you take a sip and smile, feeling the warmth of the tea. “this is perfect, simon. thank you,” you say, feeling content. simon sits down beside you, his presence comforting. “how’s the tea, ma’am?” he asks, his tone gentle and caring.

“it’s exactly what i needed,” you reply. simon’s eyes light up, clearly pleased with his little gesture. “is there anything else you need, ma’am?” he asks, eager to ensure your comfort.

if you mention needing a blanket, simon immediately gets up, retrieves it, and drapes it over you. “here you go, ma’am,” he says, adjusting it to make sure you’re snug. if you ask for anything else, such as adjusting the lighting or fetching a remote, simon is quick to respond.

“just let me know if there’s anything else, ma’am,” he says each time, his voice filled with genuine attentiveness. whether it’s adjusting the room temperature or fetching a book, he shows his dedication to ensuring you’re completely comfortable.

[embbarnes]

Rinse Cycle.

summary: Bucky pulls his arm from the dishwasher and you love how warm it is.

warnings: Smut | 18+ MDNI | TB*!Bucky | Fingering | Dirty talk | Swearing | Groping | Nipple play | Teasing | Orgasm denial (you do finish in the end hehe)

a/n: Thunderbolts* trailer has me feral af. I have so many ideas I want to write, but this is a start. I didn't mean for this to get so long but maybe that's just Bucky pulling more passion out of me. I need him. We don't know how he's going to act in the movie so I just sort of winged it from what the trailer provided. Unedited. ;; wc: 5.8k

It was chore day. You hated chore day.

The monotony of it all felt suffocating, an endless cycle of tedious tasks that seemed to pile up endlessly. Dishes stacked in the sink, laundry overflowing from the hamper, bathroom in dire need of scrubbing, kitchen counters cluttered with remnants of meals past, and trash threatening to spill over - it all felt like an insurmountable mountain of responsibilities.

The weight of these mundane tasks pressed down on you, a constant reminder of the adulting you'd been avoiding. But there was no escaping it any longer; you had procrastinated to the very limit of what was tolerable.

You tried not to be too hard on yourself about the state of things. Both you and Bucky struggled with mental health and that often made seemingly simple tasks, like washing dishes or tidying up, feel overwhelmingly difficult. You both understood this struggle and did your best to help one another out. You developed a system and worked together, splitting household chores as a team when possible. But you both had your days where you couldn’t contribute as much, so it was up to the other to carry it.

With a heavy sigh, you began the dreaded process by gathering the scattered laundry. Your movements were deliberately quiet as you crept into the bedroom where Bucky was currently taking a heavy nap. His face, usually etched with worry lines, appeared peaceful for once. You couldn't help but pause for a moment, taking him in, his features and how beautiful he was to you. It was a stark contrast to the terrorized nights you'd both endured, filled with his restless tossing and turning.

Thankfully, the relentless nightmares he suffered from had become less frequent since you'd started sharing the bed. It had been a slow process, watching him migrate from the cold, hard floor, to the slightly more comfortable couch, and finally to the warmth and safety of your shared bed.

You often slept with him before his migration, napping on the floor during the night or on the couch while he remained on the floor. You both laid together on the couch, but you also slept separately. Now, you were just glad he had finally moved into bed with you.

He was curled up in bed, his form a picture of peaceful slumber. His messy hair framed his face, giving him an endearing, boyish look. His mouth was slightly open, soft breaths escaping in a gentle rhythm, and his metal arm was absent from his body. It wasn't an uncommon thing, as he occasionally removed it when he slept, he said sometimes it feels better without the weight of it straining his back muscles when he laid down. Bucky really only did this when he felt truly safe and secure in his surroundings, aka, only around you and in your shared home. The missing prosthetic wasn't on the bedside table where he usually placed it, so he must be cleaning it.

You gathered the scattered laundry from around the room so you could leave him to his nap, creating a neat pile in your arms. Making your way to the laundry area, you passed the kitchen and saw the rinse cycle on the dishwasher, figuring his arm was in there. You threw the dirty clothes into the washing machine when you reached it, setting it to run. There was a load of dry clothes waiting to be dealt with, so you folded these items and set them aside for later. Your next task took you to the bathroom, where you began the process of cleaning and tidying. You finished scrubbing just in time to come out and see Bucky standing at the dishwasher.

Bucky looked absolutely precious when he woke up, despite his usual brooding when you fawned over him so sweetly, his tousled hair framing his face in a messy halo, and his eyes still heavy with sleep. His expression was one of endearing drowsiness that only comes from a deep slumber. When his gaze finally focused on you, a flicker of realization crossed his features. In an adorable attempt to appear more presentable, he quickly turned to the sink, fumbling slightly with the faucet before running his hand under the cool stream of water.

"Hey doll..." he mumbled, his voice still rough with sleep. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep for longer than an hour." His hand continued to run through his disheveled hair, attempting to tame the unruly strands. The water caused his dark locks to stick up at odd angles, somehow making him look even more endearing. "Guess I needed it more than I thought..." he added sheepishly, a small, apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You've been pushing yourself so hard lately, Bucky. Your body was probably crying out for a break," you replied softly, your voice filled with understanding and affection. You made your way around the sleek granite counter, each step bringing you closer to him. A warm smile spread across your face, your eyes twinkling with amusement at his disheveled state and hurried attempt to tame his hair. He decided to grow it out a while ago, he liked having you play with it, and his shorter hair didn’t feel as satisfying when your fingers carded through it.

"So..." you began, your tone taking on a playful lilt. "I see you put it in the dishwasher again, huh?" A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gestured towards the kitchen appliance, your eyes dancing with mirth. It was a recurring joke between the two of you, one day he forgot to tell you about his arm and you were shocked to find it in there.

He opened the dishwasher and pulled out the bottom rack, his eyes immediately drawn to the peculiar sight of a metallic arm nestled beside two off-white ceramic plates. The sight of the advanced prosthetic among mundane kitchenware was both amusing and slightly absurd to you. "Do not tell me you ran a whole cycle and there were only two plates in there..." You groaned softly, a mixture of exasperation and disbelief coloring your voice. Your reaction elicited a low, rumbling chuckle from him, the sound warm and slightly mischievous.

"Maybe." Bucky's response was accompanied by a playful smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He reached into the dishwasher and carefully retrieved his steaming vibranium arm, the advanced metal still radiating intense heat from the cleaning cycle. The heather black surface of the arm was a striking contrast against his skin, with intricate gold accents peeking through the articulated plates, creating a mesmerizing interplay of light and shadow.

As he deftly maneuvered the prosthetic towards his shoulder, the air seemed to hum with anticipation. The arm's sensors flickered to life, bathing the immediate area in a soft, ethereal violet glow. Bucky aligned the arm with his shoulder socket, and in one fluid motion, it locked into place with a satisfying click. The plates of the arm began to shift and recalibrate, the movement reminded you of a living organism adapting to its environment. You remembered once you had made the comparison to a caterpillar squiggling across a leaf.

He threw his arm in a quick, fluid motion, the circular movement causing a sudden surge of heat to radiate through your core. The soft grunt that escaped his lips as his arm swung through the air didn't go unnoticed by you. You found yourself moving closer to him without any sort of cause, your body responding instinctively to the simple action.

The arm still retained the warmth from the cycle it ran through, you could feel the radiating heat even from a short distance away. Vibranium was notorious for holding and distributing kinetic energy, this also applied to heat and cold. Unable to resist, your fingertips delicately grazed over the smooth, metallic surface. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt the temperature of the arm in comparison to your cooler skin.

Bucky's piercing gaze followed your every movement, his eyes immediately drawn to the telltale flush that had begun to spread across your cheeks. A knowing smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he observed your reaction.

"Ah...what's wrong, sweetheart..." he murmured, his voice low and husky, carrying that unmistakable teasing tone that you had come to recognize all too well. It was a tone that never failed to set your heart racing, a prelude to the passionate encounters that often followed. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, you shuffled in place and felt your legs squeeze together for some kind of friction.

"Nothing..." you huffed out, your voice much quieter than anticipated, barely above a whisper. "Your arm is just... so warm. It feels nice…"

"Does it?" he inquired, his tone a mixture of curiosity and amusement, the gentle lilt in his voice made your heart flutter ever so slightly.

Your mind began to wander, racing with vivid thoughts of how his arm would feel against your body. You imagined his strong hand tenderly caressing your back, his fingers tracing delicate patterns as they ran down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The mental image continued, his touch ghosting over the curve of your ass, his hands gently massaging your thighs, kneading away any tension and replacing it with a tingling sensation that spread throughout your body.

Or simply Bucky holding you close, his warmth enveloping you completely when you felt a little chilly, providing not just the physical comfort you craved from him but also a sense of safety and belonging, something you had always struggled with before you met.

He had done all of that countless times before, yet for some reason, with the arm radiating a warmth significantly more intense than its usual room temperature coolness, a deep, tingly sensation began to stir deep within your core. You found yourself swallowing hard, your gaze slowly lifting to meet his.

You guided his hand towards your neck, Bucky's eyebrow raised ever so slightly at your action. But, he wasn’t stupid. He unfurled his palm, allowing his fingertips to caress your skin with a delicate touch. The feather-light contact sent shivers down your spine, once he felt your body give him that little shiver, he encircled your throat with his fingers, maintaining a loose yet unmistakably present grip. His voice was low and husky, leaning down a bit until his lips grazed the shell of your ear. "What do you want, babydoll?"

"I...want...to feel your hand." You rasped in response, your voice thick with desire. A wave of heat coursed through your body, pooling between your legs as his voice sent shivers down your spine. Your body responded to him instantly, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, you shuffled closer to him, your hands splaying across his broad chest. The fabric of his shirt did little to mask the warmth radiating from his skin, and you found yourself growing more desperate with each passing second, craving the feeling of him close to you.

Bucky chuckled, the low rumble in his chest vibrating against your palms. His scruff tickled your cheekbone as he leaned in, laying a hasty but tender kiss to your temple. The brief contact left your skin burning, yearning for more, like a drug being given and suddenly taken away. His metal hand moved down your body with agonizing slowness, the fucker did it on purpose to tease you more. He gently teased the sensitive skin just above your shorts, his fingers dancing along the waistband before sliding beneath your top.

While your skin was feverish, the touch of the very hot vibranium felt electrifying against you. Normally, the touches from his hand would tickle, raising goosebumps in their wake from the cold metal. But now it felt incredibly comforting and arousing all at once. The warmth spreading through your body was addictive, a delicious heat that you couldn't get enough of. He continued caressing you with a gentle and possessive touch, you arched into his hand in response, silently begging for more.

You couldn't suppress the soft whimper that escaped your lips as his hand continued its tantalizing journey across your abdomen. His fingers danced along your skin, deliberately brushing against your sensitive sides, making you quiver. His trail was agonizingly slow, but his touch ascended, finally reaching the delicate area just beneath your breasts. Your breath was caught in your throat, and he stopped moving his hand completely, having it instead rest still on your skin and the area turning a bit red from the heat.

"You want more?" His voice, low and husky, cut through the tension-filled air. His icy blue eyes locked onto yours, piercing through to your very core. There was amusement dancing in those glacial depths as he observed your flushed face and quickened breathing. He was clearly enjoying the effect he had on you, reveling in the way your body responded to his touch. Bucky was always super cheeky when it came to making you like this, he took great pride in turning your legs into Jell-O.

You weren’t able to form coherent words, your mind clouded thickly with desire. His mere presence was intoxicating, and the light caresses he had bestowed upon you were enough to reduce you to that quivering mess he was so eager to see. You were putty in his hands, desperate for more of his touch and he had barely begun.

Already, you were teetering on the edge of losing all self-control.

"Bucky, please, I can't handle this teasing anymore," you whimpered softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your breath had become increasingly rapid and shallow as waves of adrenaline coursed through your body, setting every nerve ending alight with anticipation. The mere thought of his hand, that powerful, yet gentle hand, exploring your most sensitive and intimate areas made you feel increasingly wet.

Bucky's fingers found the hem of your top and he paused for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, silently asking for permission. At your almost imperceptible nod, he began to lift the fabric, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of your skin. The cool air of the room kissed your newly exposed flesh, adding to the sensory overload you were already experiencing. He pulled the garment completely over your head and carelessly tossed it aside, where it landed in a forgotten heap on the floor.

Now bare from the waist up, you felt a moment of vulnerability as Bucky's intense gaze roved over your exposed chest. His stormy blue eyes darkened with desire, drinking in every curve and contour of your body as if committing it to memory. The weight of his stare ignited a fire deep within you that threatened to consume you entirely.

Bucky's hands slowly and deliberately roam upwards, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns on your skin before finally reaching your breasts. He gently cups them in his large hands, beginning to massage and caress them with a tender yet passionate touch. Bucky's ministrations quickly begin to urge you on, your legs flexing together to create some kind of pressure between your legs.

The vibranium hand was still hot, it distributes those waves of heat through your body in a much gentler fashion than how you’ve seen in other circumstances. You’ve seen his arm break through concrete, crush otherwise impossible to damage objects, choke the life out of aliens. And here he was, treating your body like precious, tender treasure with the same limb.

You can feel your skin tingling …the dichotomy between his two hands - one warm flesh, one hot metal - adds an extra layer of sensory stimulation. A feather or an ice cube couldn't compare to how he made you feel.

The pure captivation in Bucky's eyes made the butterflies in your belly swarm even more, how he eyes your breasts makes you want to pull him in and push them against his face. His movements become more focused when he senses your desires, kneading and massaging with a rhythm reminiscent of a contented feline. The gentle yet insistent pressure of his fingers elicits a soft, involuntary moan from your lips.

Unable to resist the opportunity for a bit of playful teasing, you murmur breathlessly, "Mmm... you learned from Alpine?" The reference to his beloved white ragdoll brings a flicker of amusement to Bucky's intense gaze. He responds with a dramatic eye roll, clearly torn between exasperation at the interruption and appreciation for your attempt at humor.

"Shut up..." he growls softly, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. The playful admonishment is accompanied by a gentle squeeze of his hands, your eyes widened as you let out a gentle mewl.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, but he doesn't kiss you fully, no.

Bucky Barnes is the master of teasing.

He maintains his playful demeanor, reveling in the way you squirm and moan for him. That signature cocky smirk of his spreads across his lips as he watches you shuffle and attempt to press closer, seeking more contact. "Ah, ah... patience, doll. Stay still for me," he commands, his voice low and husky with desire.

"Bucky..." You drawl out his name, elongating the syllables into a desperate whine. Your body trembles with need, silently begging for more of his touch. You're acutely aware of his penchant for teasing, knowing all too well that he's unlikely to give in to your pleas so easily.

If anything, your desperation only seems to fuel his determination. Knowing Bucky as you do, he'll draw this out, savoring every moment of your mounting desire until your legs buckle beneath you.

His fingers begin to tease your sensitive buds, eliciting those exquisite sounds he so deeply adores from you. Those needy, desperate noises that eloquently convey how incredibly good he makes you feel, encouraging him to continue his ministrations. His skilled fingers pinch lightly, gently tugging and rolling, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your right breast is noticeably warmer and more flushed from the recent contact with the hot metal, though it didn't cause any discomfort or burning. The sight of your reddened, sensitive skin makes him groan softly under his breath, his desire for you growing rapidly.

"Ugh...look at you. You're drivin’ me crazy," Bucky whispered, his voice husky with desire. He nudged his knee between your legs, effectively pinning you in place. Your back pressed firmly against the cool counter, leaving you delightfully trapped between the unyielding surface and Bucky's warm, solid body.

"Please, don't tease me anymore..." You begged softly, your voice trembling with a mixture of anticipation and desperation. You didn't truly expect him to relent, but a small part of you hoped that he might show mercy. Your plea, however, only served to amuse him, eliciting a low, throaty chuckle that sent shivers down your spine.

His thumbs continued their torturous dance, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the very peaks of your sensitive buds. Each touch sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, making you gasp and squirm. Your back arched involuntarily, pressing your chest further into his skilled hands, silently begging for more despite your earlier words.

You were already teetering on the edge, your composure crumbling with each passing second. You always liked to think you were more hardy against him but…damnit could he get you to break. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he had reduced you to this quivering mess, and he had barely begun. His touch had been confined to your breasts alone, yet you felt as though your entire body was on fire.

"I've got you...m'gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart..." His voice was low with a promise that made your heart race even faster. With a fluid motion, he grasped your hips and turned you around, pressing your back firmly against his broad chest. The heat of his body seeped through you, adding to the inferno building within you. His hands, those wonderful, torturous hands, began a slow, teasing journey down your body, leaving trails of tingling sensation in their wake.

Slowly, he pushed your underwear down, as the fabric inched its way to your mid-thighs, he paused, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. Sticky strands of your excitement formed delicate bridges between your core and the fabric. The underwear continued its descent, finally coming to rest just above your knees, leaving you exposed and trembling.

"God, look at you," he breathed, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Just from me handlin' you a little, you got this wet for me?" Bucky whispered directly into your ear, his hot breath fanned across your skin, his scruff tickled your sensitive flesh as he spoke. The slight abrasion only served to heighten the ever-growing need you felt in your core.

He tilted his head closer to you, lips barely grazed your temple as he placed teasing kisses there. Suddenly, his knee moved, gently but firmly knocking against your legs. The silent command was clear, and you found yourself widening your stance, your body responding to his unspoken desires.

The tension that had been building within you reached a crescendo. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you let out a whine - a needy, desperate sound. Your voice so thick with desire, managed to break through those desperate noises, "Bucky..." you pleaded, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. "Please," you repeated, your body trembling with the effort of restraining yourself. "I can't take it anymore..."

The scorching metal continued its relentless journey across your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake. Your body quivered involuntarily as it inched closer to your most sensitive area. The heat radiating from your cunt rivaled that of his arm, but nothing could have prepared you for the jolt that surged through you the moment his fingers made contact with your intimate folds. The sensation was so intense that you barely managed to stifle a scream.

"Bucky!" His name escaped your lips in a breathless gasp as his skilled fingers found their target with unerring precision. They danced teasingly over your bundle of nerves, easily locating the center of your pleasure and lavishing it with gentle, circular motions. Each swirl of his fingertips sent waves of loud ecstasy coursing through your body. Your sensitive bud throbbed and pulsed under his expert touch, responding eagerly to every caress. The flood of need that washed over you was so potent that you could feel it trickling down your inner thighs.

Bucky’s fingers ventured lower, drawn to the source of your wetness and he probed your entrance. He held you still as he swiftly slid two fingers deep inside you. The sudden intrusion into your velvety depths caused your eyes to roll back in your head, overwhelmed by the sensation of his still very hot fingers inside you. You let your head fall heavily onto his shoulder, a loud, unrestrained moan escaped your lips as his fingers began a gentle yet insistent rhythm, pumping in and out of you with a practiced ease.

"That's it, sweetheart..." Bucky let out a deep, guttural grunt of pleasure as he listened to your soft whimpers and moans. His voice was thick with his own desire as he continued, "How's that feel, hm? My fingers exploring every inch of this needy little hole of yours. You were practically dripping before I even laid a hand on you, weren't you?" His skilled fingers deftly navigated your cunt, searching for that one spot that would drive you wild.

Suddenly, his fingers found that elusive sweet, spongy spot deep inside you and curled up against it. The sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. You couldn't help but let out a desperate, keening mewl as your hips instinctively bucked into his hand, seeking more of that friction. But your eager movements only resulted in Bucky withdrawing his fingers slightly, denying you the intense stimulation you craved.

"No, no, doll... stay still for me," he rasped into your ear, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin and sending shivers down your spine. "I know you can do that. Be good…" His voice was a horny mix of command and encouragement, leaving no room for argument.

His fingers resumed their steady movements after seconds of stillness, but now they purposefully avoided that sweet spot that had you seeing stars just moments ago. The deliberate teasing had you trembling with need, but you weren’t shocked by it. Bucky loved watching you like this, he wasn’t satisfied unless you were shaking and begging through your pretty tears. He had you caught between the desire to obey and the overwhelming urge to chase your pleasure.

The Wakandan metal radiated an intense, penetrating heat that seemed to seep into your very core, like having smoldering coals nestled within your body. It didn't burn, of course - the sensation was far more nuanced than that. Besides, if his steaming arm burned you, he wouldn’t ever put it on your skin.

It instead felt like an overwhelming surge of warmth, akin to the comforting embrace of a steaming bowl of soup on a cold winter's day. The heat consumed you, leaving you feeling inexplicably full and satiated. You tried, your fervent attempts to remain still were failing, the mounting pleasure proved increasingly difficult to resist. He was acutely aware of your struggle, reveling in the power he held over you.

Your body cruelly betrayed you as your hips instinctively jerked upward, responding to the touch of his fingers as they grazed your most sensitive spot deep inside your cavern. Bucky, surprisingly, permitted this small transgression…but he was far from ready to grant you the release you so desperately craved.

He continued to curl his fingers relentlessly, expertly manipulating your body until he could feel the telltale tightening of your inner walls around him. Your voice, thick with need and barely above a whisper, managed to form the words, "I-I'm close, Bucky I...-"

Just as your body tensed, poised on the very edge of ecstasy, Bucky abruptly withdrew his fingers, denying you the climax you had been building towards. The sudden loss of stimulation made you release a pained, desperate cry from your lips, a sound that reverberated with raw frustration and unfulfilled desire. You attempted to crane your neck, seeking to make eye contact with him, silently pleading for mercy.

He was so unfair.

"Not until I say, baby...you know that," he whispered against your ear, his fingers thoroughly coated in your essence. You caught sight of the glistening strands of your unmistakable arousal dripping from his hand. The sight made you blush deeply, a mix of shame and excitement coursing through you as you whined softly, your body instinctively squirming against his other arm that held you firmly in place.

"Please...I need to..." you started, your voice trembling with need, a shiver running through your body as you felt the sudden loss of his warm, skilled fingers against your sensitive flesh. The absence of his touch left you aching, yearning for more, trying to get closer to that hand just inches away from you.

Bucky let his hand return to your folds, deliberately spreading your arousal across the delicate skin. The slow, purposeful movement of his fingers sent more addicting pleasure through your body. He began to tease your precious clit once more, his expert touch reigniting the fire within you.

His fingers warmed the pink flesh to a deep, blushing red, each caress bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy while still keeping you teetering on the brink of release. He did just enough for you to feel those shocks, but not enough to push you over.

You couldn't contain yourself, your passionate cries echoing through the room with such intensity that you were convinced your neighbors would surely lodge a complaint later. You didn’t really care, and neither did he. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding desperately against his hand as he expertly pleasured you.

His organic hand slowly traced its way down to your entrance, teasing and tantalizing with feather-light touches, then plunged deep inside you, curling over and over against your g-spot. His metal fingers continued their relentless assault on the sensitive bundle of nerves nestled between your slick folds, your clit at the mercy of his ministrations.

His voice was so deliciously deep and husky with arousal, it cut through the haze of your pleasure as he spoke to you. "You gonna finish for me, doll?" he growled, his own hips now moving in tandem with yours, the friction adding another layer to your mounting pleasure as you felt his hard cock grinding against your ass. "Hm? You gonna make a mess on my hands?"

The raw need in his tone, combined with the skillful ministrations of his hands, pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel your climax rapidly approaching, a tidal wave threatening to crash over you at any moment.

You felt an overwhelming surge of sensation wash over you, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your mouth fell open, ready to cry out in ecstasy, but at first, only a soft, breathy whine escaped your lips. Every muscle in your body tensed, your inner walls clenching tightly around his skilled fingers.

His hand continued its relentless assault, moving in circles around your sensitive bud, alternating between gentle pinches and teasing tugs. Your vocalizations grew louder and more desperate when he pinched your clit, his gentle tugging made the blood rush straight to it, the sensitivity increasing.

The climax washed over you, your passionate cries for him echoing through the empty kitchen. His name tumbled from your lips in a frantic mantra, your voice raw with need. Tears of intense pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes and your legs gave way beneath you, unable to support your weight any longer. But he was there, strong and steady, holding you up as you shattered in his arms.

"That's it, baby," he murmured encouragingly, his voice a low, seductive rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Let go for me. Don't hold back. I want to see you make a mess, make a fuckin’ mess for me..." His words were a siren song, coaxing, commanding you deeper into the throes of ecstasy.

Bucky's touches never ceased, fingers working tirelessly to prolong your pleasure, pushing you higher and higher until you thought you might lose your mind. What felt like mere seconds stretched into an eternity of blissful agony, your body alight with sensation, trembling and arching against him as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you.

Your vision blurred as tears pricked your eyes, cascading down your cheeks while you completely soaked his fingers. The intensity of the sensation overwhelmed you, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably. As waves of pleasure coursed through you, your mind went blank, consumed by the sheer ecstasy of the moment.

As your cries died down, your orgasm began to subside, having run its course through you. Your once rigid body slowly relaxed, muscles unwinding one by one, mirroring the gentling of his touches. He held you securely by your hips, his strong arm providing much-needed support to prevent you from collapsing. Even with the counter in front of you, you weren’t sure if you could even stand right now.

The aftermath left you in a state of blissful delirium. It felt utterly incredible, as if you were floating on cloud nine, your senses still reeling from the intense experience. You remained dazed, barely able to process the lingering sensations coursing through your body. Bucky slowly withdrew his fingers, the movement eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

His touch became so tender and affectionate, traced a path along your skin as he placed gentle, reverent kisses on the back of your shoulder and the nape of your neck. The warmth of his breath caused goosebumps to rise all over your body as he murmured words of praise against your skin. "So good for me...so perfect, babydoll. You did so good for me," he whispered, his voice held soft adoration and satisfaction.

"I... I can't... feel my legs," you managed to say, your voice coming out in a raspy whisper as you struggled to catch your breath. Your chest heaved with each labored inhale, the exertion of your intense orgasm still evident in your flushed cheeks and trembling limbs.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck where his lips were pressed, sending a shiver down your spine despite your exhaustion. His gentle hands supported your weight, helping you regain your balance until you were able to stand somewhat steadily on your own, though your legs still felt like jelly beneath you.

"My bad, doll," he replied with a cheeky grin, that familiar smug smile spreading across his face as his eyes roamed over your disheveled form. There was a glint of satisfaction in his gaze as he took in the sight of you, clearly pleased with the effect he had on you. His eyes lingered on the places where his metal hand had touched, tracing the patterns of blotches and handprints that now adorned your skin in various shades of red from the heat of the vibranium.

"S'pretty, you know that?" he whispered, his voice low and husky. His eyes raking over your body with an intensity that made you feel both exposed and cherished. His gaze held vibrant, burning embers of lust that were still very much alive, but also a deep well of affection and love that made your heart skip a beat.

Bucky leaned close to you, his eyes softening as he gazed into yours. He caressed your cheek with his organic hand and gave you a tender, lingering kiss. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest. Your hands were still slightly trembling from your overwhelming release, but they found their way to his cheeks. Your thumbs traced delicate circles on his cheekbones, savoring the feel of his skin and scruff beneath your fingertips.

The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into his embrace. The world faded away until there was nothing but the two of you, you cherished the moments like this, when it was just you both enjoying a sweet moment together. No worries, no stress, no fear. When Bucky finally pulled away, that familiar cheeky grin spread across his face, lighting up his eyes with mischief and affection.

Your eyes narrowed in response, growing suspicious thinking about the many possibilities he could be up to. "I gotta wash my arm again," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, the plates of vibranium still coated thickly with your orgasm.

Your cheeks flushed and you groaned softly, rolling your eyes. "Put the pan on the stove this time," you replied, your voice equally soft but tinged with playful exasperation. "I am not hand washing that thing."

Thanks for reading - em🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[littleskeletonprincessss]

Stepbro Schlatt pt 2

to @lvrj4mie, @princessbiteme0o0, countless anons, and EVERYONE ELSE here's Part 2 to Stepbro Schlatt.

(SMUT Minors go away)

"Alright. It's your kids turn to do the dishes" your mom said, as everyone finished up dinner.

Taking your plate to the sink you began to unload the dishwasher. Behind you, you could hear your parents leave the kitchen and felt Schlatt step next to you before beginning to rinse the dirty plates in the sink.

A few minutes later you sense Schlatts eyes on you and notice he's shifted closer. His arm ghosts across your back and his hand lands on the counter next to you, moving behind and trapping you against the sink.

"You look pretty today." He whispers in your ear before moving down to lay lazy kisses against your neck.

Stopping yourself from instinctively relaxing into his strong chest you glance over your other shoulder listening for any signs of your parents. Hearing nothing you lean back into your stepbrother.

"I thought you'd like this dress." You say with a smirk, running your fingers along the thin halter straps holding the thin fabric over your chest. "Oh I do cupcake," Schlatt starts, teeth grazing over your bare shoulder. "But so did every other fucker at school. Fucking undressing my baby girl with their eyes, thinking about you the way only I can..."

His large hand circles around to your chest, harshly squeezing your breast before sliding down to cup between your thighs.

"Schlatt..." you gasp, knowing someone could walk in at any moment.

"Shh baby. We can't let mom and dad know can we? Imagine what they'd do if they found out that their sweet-" his hand lifts the hem of your dress slightly, "innocent-" once his hand is high enough he slips it into your panties "angel were letting her own stepbrother fuck her sweet little pussy, huh?"

Gripping the sink you brace yourself against the feeling of Schlatt's thick fingers dragging too slowly through your wet slit humming a moan, letting your head drop.

"Fuck..." you whisper.

"You like that baby?" Schlatt asked, his voice seemingly in your head.

"Uh-huh..." you managed to moan out.

"Hmm, good girl." Schlatt continue for a moment before all together taking his hand back and continuing to unload the dishwasher leaving you whimpering in betrayal "Schlatt.." you whine.

"Hush, sweetheart. There's more where that came from. Now we better finish the dishes before mom comes in." he finishes with a wink and a soft spank.

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

After all the clean dishes were put away and the dishwasher was started with a fresh load Schlatt wrapped his arm around your waist again.

"How about you stay in my bed again tonight? Would you like that sweet stuff?" He presses a kiss against the side of your head.

Since a month ago when you and Schlatt started your taboo relationship you'd slept almost every night in his arms. You were always careful to make sure your alarm was set so you could wake up before either of your parents and sneak back to your cold bed before they started getting ready for work.

One night your mom found you trying to sneak into Schlatt's room. When she asked what you were doing you told her that you needed to use the bathroom and yours was out of toilet paper. She seemed to buy it, but you didn't want to risk her noticing you not leave so you only went in for a quick, albeit heated kiss goodnight before heading back to your room.

Smiling at his question you turned in his arms and draped yours around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. As he tried slipping his tongue into your mouth you heard someone coming down the stairs that lead into the kitchen.

In a flash Schlatt's head was buried in the fridge, feigning looking for a snack leaving you looking stupid in the middle of the kitchen floor. Snapping yourself out of the stupor you do the only thing you can think to do at the moment and--wash your hands? You could hear Schlatt trying to hide his chuckling from the fridge.

"Schlatt, honey I need you to put on a load of laundry today. Your room reeks of teenage boy and...all that entails." Your mom came in the kitchen. You didn't need her to specify that the smell emanating from his room was cum. And she was right, she just didn't know it wasn't solely his.

"Whatever." He responds, putting back up the asshole façade.

"Oh, Y/N sweetheart. Remember Samuel Cooper? From when you were little?"

"The boy I used to play house with?" You saw Schlatt slightly pull his head out of the fridge out of the corner of your eye.

"Yes! His parents have to go out of town for a couple days and I offered to let him stay here while they're gone."

"That's nice of you, mom" You said, not sure where this was going. You and Sammy were friends growing up, but as you got older you drifted apart and after the wedding and you moved, you lost contact all together.

"I was thinking maybe he could stay in your room. We could move you into Schlatt's for the time being. If that's okay with him." Your mom stated, turning to look at Schlatt.

"Yeah, fine." Schlatt said, his tone cool and uncaring, but you knew better and noticed the tinge of excitement behind it.

Briefly resting her palm on his cheek your mom left the kitchen. Schlatt looked at you with his mischievous eyes before sauntering closer and pulling you into his arms, burying his head in your neck and blowing kisses, making you giggle.

"Schlatt, stop."

"Can't help it. Get to have my perfect girl in my arms every night without hiding it." He smiles against your skin, making your lips tilt into one of their own.

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

The next day the doorbell rang while you were watching a movie. Alone, unfortunately, since Schlatt had gotten in trouble for failing science and was banished to his room to study until dinner.

"Y/N! Schlatt! Come in here!" Your mom called from the foyer.

Getting off the couch, turning back out of habit to make sure there weren't any stains, you walked in, stopping when your name was called.

"Y/N!"

"Sammy! Good to see you."

"I go by Sam, now actually." He said, pulling you into a hug.

"Ooh, Y/N got a boyfriend or something?" You heard a rough grumble from behind you.

"Hey, what's up man? I'm Sam." Sam introduced himself to Schlatt, holding his hand out. Schlatt, of course, being the man he is, took the outstretched limb as a challenge, taking Sam's hand, squeezing tightly as he shook.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Jay." He left it at that.

"Don't worry about him, Sam. This is my stepson. He's very nice when he warms up to you." Your mom says, glaring at Schlatt.

"So Y/N do you want to watch a movie or something? Catch up a bit?"

"I'll join you." Schlatt interrupts before you can even answer.

"Nice try, young man. I believe you still have some Biology homework left. Now go." Your mom scolded. You caught Schlatt give Sam a look behind his back before climbing the stairs, grumbling.

"Now that you're here Sam i'm going to start dinner. Have fun you two." With that your mom left.

"Come on, living room is this way." You say.

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

Sitting down to dinner around the table Sam ended up on your left while Schlatt sat on your right. Jeremy was out of town for business so it was just you four and your mom decided it'd be nice to sit around the smaller kitchen table rather than in the dining room. Before any of you even started eating you felt Schlatt's hand splay across your upper thigh and squeeze before releasing and just resting there. Looking around you make sure no one noticed before shifting your foot around his ankle and beginning to rub.

"Prom is coming up soon, isn't it? Either of you planning on going?" Your mom asks. Glancing at Schlatt from the corner of your eye you look back down at your spaghetti.

"Probably not. I don't know who would ask me."

"You could hang out with my friends and I." Schlatt says.

"That's very kind of you, honey." Your mom praises. "I'm so glad you two have started getting along better. "

"Or-" Sam starts, "I could take you, Y/N."

You can feel Schlatt's large fingers start to dig into your thigh and notice his jaw clench slightly.

"Oh, Sam. Thank you. That's- that's very sweet of you." You blush, suddenly very interested with your plate.

The rest of dinner passed pretty uneventful. You felt awkward, Schlatt was angry, and Sam and your mom were none the wiser to the situation playing out in front of them.

After dinner Schlatt helped your mom set up an air mattress on his floor while you grabbed all the clothes you'd need for the next few days out of your room.

Hearing knocking from behind, you turned to see Sam leaning on the doorframe.

"Thanks again for letting me use your room. It's really nice of you."

"It's no trouble. Schlatt is the one you should be thanking."

"I'll let you do that for me. Honestly, he kind of scares me."

Laughing to yourself at thanking Schlatt, and at Sams comment, you grab a final shirt out of your closet before fully turning to the door.

"Don't mind him. He's all bark and no bite."

"Maybe. Listen...about prom, I was thinking maybe we could get dinner before...somewhere nice. Kinda like a date."

You stopped in your tracks in the middle of the hall. Sure, you wanted to go on dates, but you never thought about going on them with anyone else since the night you and Schlatt and first had sex. And you knew that with him, there would be no dates.

"Yeah, uh yeah, that'd be nice. Thanks, Sam." you said, turning to smile at him.

He smiled back briefly before the door behind you opened.

"Princess, your bed is all made up." Schlatt's deep voice mumbled.

"Anyway, goodnight Y/N. Schlatt." Sam shut the door behind him.

"I don't like him." Schlatt said, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.

"You only don't like him because he's got a six pack." You said, poking his soft stomach.

"You don't mind my lack of one when I'm on top of you." He whispers, lips pressed against your ears as he pulls you back into his room.

Tossing blankets loosely on the air mattress Schlatt lies you back on his bed, pulling your pants down before settling himself between your thighs.

"Time to say goodnight, Tootsie Pop. Gotta give my honey a proper one."

"You're the corniest motherfu--God dammit, shit!" His tongue pressing flat against your labia cuts you off, his brown eyes smirking up at you.

"Shh baby. Let me taste my good girl."

"Just- hurry. We can't let mom know." You rush out, spreading your legs, inviting him in.

"Don't tell me what to do." He says, lightly biting your thigh, making you jump before he shifts his focus on your clit, pulling it between his lips, sucking on it. "i'm gonna enjoy you as long as I fucking want. Gonna enjoy my fucking pussy whenever I want, too."

With that, Schlatt pressed your legs back further, moaning into you, wet slurping noises filling your ears, the pleasure too great for fear of it filling the room to even cross your mind.

Feeling the pressure building in your tummy you press your hand tight against your mouth. Tears trailing down your cheeks you try pushing Schlatt away, your legs betraying you, crossing behind his head, keeping him close.

"There you go, baby. Gonna come for me?"

"Uh huh. Please Schlatt...." you whimpered.

"What was that? You gotta ask correctly babygirl. C'mon, beg me again."

"Daddy, please?" tears began to run down your cheeks out of frustration and desperation. "Please let me cum for you?"

"Awe there's my sweetheart. My sweet princess. Come on, baby, come for me. Come all over my tongue." He half mumbles, diving back between your legs.

With a final flick of his talented tongue you feel that familiar feeling of an orgasm wash over you, making you pant into your hand, trapping the scream you so badly wanted to let free.

"F-Fu-So-Mmm'so good." you cry, almost melting into his pillow as he crawls up next to you, licking his lips and pressing kisses up your stomach, arms, neck and finally to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his mutton chops.

"I'm glad you liked it, Pretty. Now you lay there, looking sexy as fuck while I go get something to clean you up a bit so we can go to sleep because you are goddamn exhausting." He laughs, rolling off his bed and stepping towards his bathroom. Stopping at his closet he pulls out a sweatshirt throwing it to you. "Put that on and get comfy, gorgeous."

Smiling softly you peel off your now sweaty t-shirt, slipping into his sweatshirt, and lying back against his pillow, opening your arms for him after he comes out and wipes you down with a warm rag.

"G'night, baby" he yawns, snuggling into your chest.

A/N OKAY I'M SORRY GUYS HERE'S THIS THERE'S PROBABLY GONNA BE A PART 3

[summerlovingbaby]

the love you deserve

Kuroo really didn’t deserve her. He had quite possibly one of the worst days in his life and just wanted to crawl in a cave in die. Kenma was out of the country and didn’t have a phone that could pick up reception from another country, so he couldn’t even call his best friend to tell him about the crappy day that he had.

He was gonna get home way later that normal, witch meant that Y/N would probably be asleep or trapped in her office working way past midnight and wouldn’t want to be disturbed. He assumed that the house was a mess because the pair of them made a mess the night before  and made no attempt to clean it up, and he knew that Y/N had a busy day and had no time to clean so he now had a crappy day, and now had to clean a mess because he promised Y/N that he would when he got home. He also had no clean shirts for work so he would have to do a load of laundry.

But when he got home the house smelled oddly clean, for 2 day old dishes in the sink and weeks of his dirty gym socks in the hamper.

“ My love,... is that you?” he heard you call from the bedroom.

“ Yeah it’s me princess.” he replied. He walked through the door and dropped his bag off at the door and ditched his coat on the floor in front of it, not even bothering to pick it up.

The living room was... clean. The coffee table was dusted and the floor was swept and it smelled like lemons. Y/N came out of the bedroom wearing one of his t- shirts and a pair of his old boxer shorts.  The kitchen looked clean. there were no dishes in the sink, and there was a pot on the stove. 

“ I washed your clothes, if you don’t mind hanging them up.” she smiled.              “ Dinner’s on the stove if you’re hungry”, she brushed the hair out of her face and fiddled with the shirt she was wearing. “ I can heat it up for you, while you get cleaned up.”

“ The house is clean?” he stated. 

“ Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t finish the laundry. I had a lot of work to do today.” she wiped her tears sadly.

“ You cleaned the house.” his voice was shaking a bit. He didn’t usually cry a lot, but he had a bad day, and a stressful week. “ Why?”

“ Well the house was dirty soo..” she said. “ Are you okay?” she asked looking at him. He was hiding his face.

“ I know but yesterday I said I would clean up when I got home, because you had a lot of stuff on your to-do list today.”

“ I did... I mean I do have a lot to do, but I know that you’ve had a long a week, and I assumed it was a bad day because you didn’t text me today-” she stated.

“ I’m sorry-”

“ Hey baby, it’s okay, I’m not mad. I just know that you don’t like going to bed with the house not clean, so I cleaned it.”

He really didn’t deserve her. Her stupid smile that lit up a room, a laugh that could make anybody happy. She made him feel like she built the sun for him in a toolshed.

“ You cooked?”

“ Yeah... you’re favorite.... my love is something the matter?”

“ I just had a really crappy day.” he said.

“ It’s okay... c’mere.” she opened her arms and he melted into her. She was his sun.

“ I really don’t deserve you.” she spoke into her shoulder.

“ You deserve the world.”

[backtothefanfiction]

The Dishwasher | tasm!peter imagine

Summery: sure he dresses up in a costume and goes and fights crime in the city, but god forbid your boyfriend actually loads the dishwasher.

A/N: there has been a lot of rage in our house over dishwashers and clean dishes lately.

“PETER PARKER!!! I SWEAR TO GOD, I AM GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FUCKING FACE!”

“What have I done now.” He innocently says as he comes to stand in the kitchen doorway. He’s already in his suit, his mask scrunched up in his hand.

“Uh uh. No.” You say, stepping forward to meet him, a face like thunder. “You have one job,” you say holding your finger up to him, “ONE JOB! In this house. I cook you dinner. I do your laundry for you. I clean the bathroom. Hoover the -entire- apartment. And all I ask in return is for you to do THE FUCKING DISHES BEFORE YOU GO OUT- IN YOUR STUPID SUIT-“

“It’s not stupid-“ he throws out but you cut him off and continue to talk over him.

“It’s one job Peter. ONE JOB. We even got you a fucking dishwasher so you wouldn’t have to spend ages washing up by hand and could go out on patrol sooner. I mean- COME ON!”

“Fine. FINE! I’ll do it!” He says, hands up placating you, just wishing you’d stop shouting at him.

You barely move as he gingerly steps around you, placing his mask on the kitchen side as he begins to reach for the days worth of dirty dishes stacked in the sink.

“Oh my god.” You sigh, your hands flying into your hair exasperatedly. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m loading the dishwasher.” He groans, annoyed at your micro managing.

“Peter, glasses do not go on the bottom!” He grumbles as he begins to move the glass onto the top rack instead. “When you put the glasses on the bottom, all the left over little bits of food on the plates end up sticking to the glasses and they don’t actually get clean.”

“Alright.” He huffs.

You watch as he then reaches for a small saucepan, also placing it onto the top tray. “Woah woah woah! What are you doing?!? Pans go on the bottom. Fuck Pete, no wonder half the glasses and bowls in the cupboard have crap dried to them. Did no one ever teach you how to load a dishwasher properly?”

“No, Aunt May always did the-“

“Nope. Nah uh. Don’t tell me you actually let that saint of a woman do everything for you when you have been more than capable to help out since you were 12 years old.”

He shied away from you guiltily. “She insisted.” He shrugged.

“No. No. That poor woman. Come here. Let me show you how to load a dishwasher properly so that you can do it every time we have dinner at her house for the rest of her life.”

You wish you could say that that was the very last time you nagged Peter about the dishwasher or how he loaded it. But unfortunately things with that man were never that simple. But no matter how hard he struggled with the simple task in his own home, he at least did do it at Aunt May’s house whenever you ate there, for the rest of her life.

[fredwkong]

Gateway Drug

You had always had fantasies about marijuana. The DARE officer had described the sensation of being stoned, the desire to do nothing but get stoned again. He’d scared you deeply, scarred you, even. You’d never even gotten close to buying any, terrified that you would… what? Enjoy it?

Now, here you were. It was legal, and not only that, the psychiatrist had told you it would help with your anxiety. You had walked into the dispensary and walked out with a product, and the world hadn’t ended.

The clerk had handed you three pre-rolled blunts, and said that they were guaranteed to ease you into getting stoned. He’d had a strange smile on his face as he’d said it, but you had been so anxious that you hadn’t registered it. You’d barely been able to get a word out faced with him: a laid-back, blissed-out stoner who stank of skunk and body odour.

You hurried home and got ready. You laid out some of your favourite snacks on your obsessively clean counter, and tidied everything away. You thought about dusting a second time, but realised you were delaying. You tugged down your scratchy polo shirt and wiped your sweating hands on your pressed khakis.

With shaking fingers, you flicked on a lighter and lit one of the blunts. As soon as the smell of the smoke hit your nose, you felt yourself loosen up. It didn’t smell so bad.

You took a hit and resisted the urge to cough. By the time you breathed the smoke out, you were already starting to feel relaxed. Your polo shirt loosened into a soft, old band tee, and your khakis became a pair of worn sweatpants. As you took a second hit, the smell of weed embedded itself in your pores and the fabric of your clothes, filling your whole awareness.

With the weed hitting you, you started to sink deeper into the couch, which had just been a new Ikea loveseat but was swiftly becoming a beat-up, stained, broken-in sofa with a dent for your thickening ass. Your head, facial, and body hair grew out sloppily, greasy with unwashed sweat and oil. The smell of weed mixed with the growing scent of your unwashed, musky bod.

You took another slow hit, and your slow, stoned brain sent you a new idea: you started to strip off your musky, threadbare T-shirt and wiggle out of your sweatpants. It felt great to get naked in the comfort of your own home. The cool air tingled against your oily skin as you settled back onto the couch. You wiggled your long toes against the carpet, enjoying the sensation against the oily digits.

The growing cloud of pot smoke briefly obscured your vision, and when it drifted away your apartment was transformed into a proper stoner den. The couch faced a wide-screen TV with a full shelf of gay porn under it. The floor was covered in dirty clothes and trash you were too lazy and stoned to pick up. In the kitchen, the grungy counter was covered in empty takeout containers, and the sink full of dishes. The bed in the opposite corner wasn’t even visible under piles of clothes that might have been clean or might have been dirty.

Your body changed, too. Rather than being slender and weedy, you were now softer, shorter, and definitely hairier. You scratched your hairy balls as you alternated between tokes on the blunt and sniffs of your rancid armpit. At this point, your dick got more than interested, standing to attention and beginning to spurt jets of pre from your big stoner ballsac. Getting stoned always got you horny. And you were always getting stoned, so you were always horny. The rich smell of your uncut dick mingled with the stench of weed.

As you took the last few hits from the blunt, expertly smoking it right down to your fingers, you started to jack off, using your ample precum like lube. As you leaned back and moaned in a deep, blissed-out voice, your collection of bongs and other weed paraphernalia appeared on the coffee table in front of you, the only place you cared about keeping tidy. You shot a huge load all over your naked pecs and belly, which you rubbed into your thick hair as you discarded the spent blunt in an ashtray.

You grabbed a half-finished bag of cheetos from the kitchen counter and lay back down on the couch, scrolling Grindr and wondering if the hot clerk from the dispensary was available to bottom. Then you remembered the pack of three blunts he had given you. Your previous life was like a distant dream in the back of your mind, but you knew just enough to wonder if two of your old, uptight dude friends might want to come over and try some of your special weed.

It was a gateway drug, after all.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I started putting my partner's dirty dishes on their desk after they leave them on my desk?

So, my partner and I have our computer desks in the same room. They stay up later than me and will frequently have a late night snack that produces dirty dishes. Very often, they will put the dishes on my desk if I'm already in bed so that it's out of the way while they game. The problem is that when they're done for the night, they'll frequently leave the dishes on my desk instead of taking it to the kitchen.

I don't really have a problem with them not taking the dishes to the kitchen right away because god knows I leave trash/dishes on my own desk sometimes too. I would just rather they don't leave it on my desk because then I have to move it somewhere before I use my computer, and I just end up putting it in the sink or dishwasher. I've tried asking them not to do it anymore multiple times and reminding them after they do it, and while they've gotten somewhat better they still leave dishes on my desk pretty often (it used to be every night and now it's just most nights kind of thing).

I really don't think asking them is going to do much more than it already has. We both have ADHD, but theirs is Definitely worse than mine. Very specifically their clutter blindness is a lot worse than mine, so I know the issue is that the dishes are out of sight, out of mind.

I want to start just moving the dishes to their desk so that it's back in their line of sight and they're reminded to deal with them without me verbalizing it, but I'm going back and forth about that idea. One one hand, I hate feeling like their mom and constantly reminding them to clean up after themselves. And if I don't remind them and just clean it up, then I pretty often end up doing more chores and not sitting down to relax as soon as I'd like to (i.e, oh they left some wrappers and a dirty bowl on my desk, well I'll just take it to the kitchen. Ugh, the sink is full and the dishwasher is clean. Well I'll just unload it really quick and load it again. Oh and the trash is also full so if I want to throw these wrappers away I need to take the trash out and put a new bag in. Suddenly it's 20-30 minutes later, which doesn't seem like much but it adds up when it's happening multiple times a week.) But on the flip side, I feel like this is the kind of thing that could be read as passive aggressive even though I really don't mean it that way. I'm not trying to punish them I just don't want to always be cleaning up after them when it's cutting into my already short evening relaxing time.

[crazyoffher]

WATCHTOWER. - 2

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: the same late-night visitor meets with you once again, this time with a goal in mind.

warnings: unedited. somewhat long, which i'm very sorry for i just love attention-to-detail sometimes.

word count: 2600+

part one part three

Scandal was playing on the TV, but you weren’t paying attention to what was happening — not that it mattered because you replayed the show so much you could name an episode's events off the top of your head. It was a rather chilly Thursday night for springtime, and you lay on the couch all sprawled around with a massive headache and a runny nose. 

You had allergies, and they acted up harsher than usual, causing you to take the entire week off of work. You wanted to stay around in case Jenna came in that week, but you felt like fainting the first Monday, and you had been told to go home by your manager, Derek.

You were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, looking through Jenna’s entire Instagram your feed, when you were interrupted by a caller screen. It was your regular closing buddy, Jack, calling. 

“I told you, the cleaning supplies are stocked under the boxes on the shelf next to the cooler.” You sighed, assuming that he was calling because he couldn’t remember the location of where you put the items. 

“No, bro, it’s not that.” He practically screamed into the phone, erupting a groan out of you. “Keep your voice low; I have a massive fucking headache.” 

“Well, I'm sorry that I can’t contain my emotions after just dealing with Jenna Ortega, who was looking for you.” That got you to sit upright. You have to be fucking kidding me.

You sighed heavily. “You can’t be serious! Ugh.”

“What? You were expecting her? God, I hate when you keep exciting secrets from me (Y/N), like when you literally served Zendaya and I had to sit and gawk at you when you were telling me you and her had a conversation!”

Rubbing your eyeballs, you put the phone on speaker as you pulled yourself up, turning to clean up the mess of tissues and plates that had accumulated over the past two days. “What did you say to her?”

“I told her that you work Monday, Thursday, and Saturday every week, but that you’d be gone the rest of the week because you were sick. When the fuck did you meet her?” You loaded the tissues (and empty ice-cream pint) into the trash and set the plates into the sink, saying, “Two weeks ago, when you decided to do the easiest job on Earth and leave me to do all of the cleanup work, you assface.”

“Man, you better be good by Monday because she looked pretty down when I told her you weren’t here.” You sighed at that; it only made your hatred for your pollen allergy worsen. “And she told me she’d be back on Monday if she wasn’t too busy that day.”

“I’ll take this as a sign to actually start taking my antibiotics.” You filled a cup with water, grabbing a Tylenol pill for your headache. “Why haven’t you been taking them in the first place?”

“So I’d have an excuse to take more than four days off. You just have to hate working at a Michelin star that celebrities love to raid sometimes.” You downed the pill, or more so, tried to, as it came back up, making you cough.

“Yeah, well, you tell that to Marissa, who’s been covering your days. She looks like she’s on the edge of a breakdown constantly.”

You attempted to swallow the pill again, this time successfully, as you downed the entire glass of water before placing it in the sink, joining the dirty plates. “Well, she’d be more accustomed to it if she didn’t decide to work only once a week and constantly coax me for a share of my tips. Now go back to cleaning up.”

Leaning against the counter of your kitchen, you hung up the phone, saying your goodbyes to Jack. Couldn't she have come around next week?

On Monday, you returned. In your nice suitwear, you made sure to groom yourself extra well in the morning in case Jenna did make her return to you that day, and she did…not.

To say you were disappointed was an understatement; you even stayed out five minutes past twelve to see if she’d walk in, but to no avail. Closing the doors to the restaurant with Jack, you took each step to your car with a form of anger.

“Are you alr-”

“You said she was going to come today!” You huffed. He shrugged, choosing the right words to reply to you; otherwise, you’d go insane.

“If she wasn’t too busy, she said. She probably just had an overwhelming day.” He assured you, but you weren’t necessarily in a positive mood. You mimicked him, putting your hands on your face and rubbing your eyes.

“Or she just didn’t want to see me. She probably saw that I wasn’t there and was like, “Oh, well, fuck that girl then.” Ugh, I hate sickness.” Sneezing right after your sentence, Jack shuffled away from you slightly before climbing into your passenger seat when you unlocked your car.

You had promised to give him a ride because his car’s engine sounded off and he didn’t want to take it to work. “I call the music!”

“It's my car, asshole.” You jumped into the driver's seat without fighting Jack for the Bluetooth, as he had already been connected. “All I’m saying is, you shouldn’t worry. Celebrities, especially rising ones like her, are always busier than we are. Plus, you’re not all that special; I know I wouldn’t willingly go to a restaurant to see you at midnight when I’m a second away from passing out from tiredness.”

You shoved him, one hand on the wheel, as you rolled out of the parking lot and onto the immediate freeway. “And you’re so amazing?”

“I’m perfect, thank you very much.” 

It took you about thirty minutes to drop off Jack at his apartment, seeing that it was in a different town, and he made you stop at a gas station for a bag of Munchies. As soon as you fell onto your bed, you were out like a light.

When Thursday came around, you weren’t so optimistic about Jenna showing up. Actually, you debated calling out just because you didn’t feel like working that day, but you knew that your request would probably get declined because it was last-minute and it wasn’t for an emergency, so you got ready.

To your surprise, the day was calm. There were only about two well-known celebrities, and they were enthusiastically nice to you and tipped generously, leaving Jack to complain about your tips for the day, considering that he had almost half less and had a drink thrown on him by a TikTok influencer.

“Why do you always get the nicer tables with big tips while I get stuck with cows who try using their “influence” to get out of paying for their seven-fifty ($750) dollar meal?” He huffed, pretending to be busy because he was currently dealing with — actually, not even a D-lister, just somebody who was in the background of a Marvel movie in 2015.

Meanwhile, you were on your thirty minute break, munching on a burrito you had bought before walking into work that morning. “Because I’m nice and charismatic, even to those that throw their food on my clothes. You, on the other hand, have no charisma at all, and you purposefully set a bitchy tone whenever someone’s mean to you. Nobody’s tipping a man who looks to be on the verge of throwing them onto the highway.”

“Well-”

“Carlile!” Derek called out Jack’s name — or technically, last name, “Back to work, there’s a girl that came in, I’m thinking B-list but on her way to the A-list.”

“I’m dealing with some background extra right now!” He called out, buttoning up his vest he had unbuttoned earlier to breathe, and Derek came into the back where you guys were. “They wanted to leave, so Harvey gave them their check and took your tip from them while he was at it, so go and serve the girl!”

Derek left, and Jack huffed. “God, I hate that fucker. I’m getting that tip back.” And with that, he disappeared as well, anger evident in his step. You just laughed at him, twenty minutes left on your break as you laid back on the chair, tearing up the bulky burrito.

Not even five minutes later, Jack came rushing in, sweat beads on his forehead as he had a large smile on his face. “Guess who’s here.”

“Mmm, by the way you’re smiling, I’d say Spencer Charnas.”

“No, dumbass! Jenna’s here.” You coughed, choking up the burrito chunk you tried to swallow. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Getting up, you viewed yourself in the mirror. Your hair was messed up, tie in disarray, and your shirt sleeves slightly wrinkled from having them rolled up. You were not looking sharp.

“Yes, I told her that I’d switch her table over to you after getting her the drinks she and her — might I say, massive bodyguards, ordered. So go!”

He ushered you out of the backroom, hands on your tie fixing it into place and undoing your sleeves, fixing them down to your wrist. “I thought she was gonna come after we closed, like how she did before.”

“I guess she couldn’t wait to see you, buddy. Now you go and get your first girlfriend, yeah?” He patted your back, and you slapped him on the arm before heading into the dining section. Luckily, she was sat at the edge of a window where there was an empty walkway to her table, avoiding you of any interruptions by surrounding customers.

“What would you like to get started with?” You adjusted your vest, not making eye contact with Jenna just yet. Any observant person could tell you were nervous. “Well, hello to you too.”

You looked up, meeting her eyes and smiling. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there last Thursday, got a little sick and thought it was best to not infect everyone, especially you.” 

“It’s fine. Oh, and here.” She reached into the bag sat next to her, pulling out the book before handing it over to you, urging you to take it due to the weight of it. “Thank you. I didn’t expect you to finish so early, you said you’re busy constantly, after all.”

“I read it on the days I wasn’t all too busy, mostly on the way to meetings and in my trailer on set.” Jenna shrugged it off, adding, “And you were right, it’s a really good book.”

“Well, if you ever need any more book suggestions, I’m here. You want to get something to eat, or do you want me to come back in a bit?”

“Mmm, give me like five minutes, yeah?” She flashed you a smile that you dumbly nodded at, turning on your heel and heading into the kitchen, meeting Jack halfway there and you practically jumped on him.

“Someone’s giddy.”

“Oh, shut up. She’s making me nervous, Jack, she keeps eye contact — do you know what it’s like to hold eye contact with a pretty girl?”

“I’m assuming it’s nervewracking.”

“Oh right, I forgot. You can’t talk to girls.” You put his hand on his shoulder, sending him a fake sympathetic smile that he glared at.

“So, when are you asking her out?” Jack grabbed a couple plates, presumably for the table he was serving and you just laughed, causing him to send you a look.

You stopped upon seeing his confused glare. “Oh, you’re not joking. She doesn’t like me, I think I’d know if a girl likes me.”

“But, you wouldn’t. You’ve never had a girlfriend in your life, despite your many talking stages, all of which were online. You’re not experienced in body language, bud. Go out there and take her order, and see how it goes from there.” Leaving you standing in the busy kitchen, you thought about it.

Taking advice from Jack wasn’t the best idea, though. He dated a catfish for five months, for fuck's sake. 

Walking back into the main room, you walked over to the shelf and put the bulky navy-colored book back in it’s former place, shifting some books to slot it in. Eyeing Jenna’s table, you saw how she sat there, hands clasped together, talking to her bodyguards.

“You ready now?” You walked up to the table, hands together behind your back, and gave her a small smile.

“Yeah, I’ll have,” Jenna re-opened the menu, pinpointing her option as “Lobster ravioli with Mascovy duck breast, whatever that is.” She laughed slightly, a smile still etched on your face, and said, “And…a date with you.” She spoke lowly, as if she were purposefully lowering her voice so you couldn’t hear her.

“And a what? Sorry.” You apologized, leaning in slightly closer to hear. “A…chance to hang out with you, if you’re up for that. Other people, like friends, can be there too, of course.”

Your mouth gaped open, and the longer you took to answer, the more anxious Jenna became.

"Definitely, yeah, sure.” You managed to get out, nodding your head extensively, and Jenna’s anxiousness faded. 

You got her bodyguard's order as well, practically running to the kitchen to give your paper to a chef before scanning for Jack and watching him eat a lobster that one of the cooks seemed to have prepared for his break time. “Did you ask her out?”

“No, but she asked me to hang out with her.” To your words, Jack shot one hand up and mumbled something that you couldn’t recognize, lobster in his mouth.

“She practically wants you.” He repeated, this time more recognizable. “Yeah, yeah.” You waved him off, pacing around with your hands glued together, thinking. 

“No, think about it.” Jack set his plate down, swallowing the last bits of his lobster. “She’s busy, right? She’s got like five thousand movies coming out this year and next year, which means that she’d be making time through her busy schedule to be with you! She likes you a lot.”

You stopped, your hands transferring over to your hips. You eyed him, skeptical at first, before sighing. “You think so?”

Jack nodded. “Definitely, go get her tiger.” He pushed you away, hearing the sound of your name being called along with four plates being set off to the side.

You took the plates, setting them on a tray before balancing it on your hand, suddenly a lot more paranoid about dropping them than you’ve ever been. “Here you go.”

Bringing the tray into both your hands, you set the plates aside one by one before tucking it under your arm. “If you guys need anything else, just call me over.”

“Well,” Jenna’s voice stopped you from walking away, “In order for me to see you again, I’d need your number.”

“Right!” You said rather enthusiastically, taking her phone that she held out and typing your number in, sending her one last smile before retreating back into the kitchen.

Sadly, that was the last time you saw her that day because Harvey decided to steal your table, as he did to Jack earlier, to try and capture your tip.

“(Y/N).” Derek called out for you, walking into the room to catch you wiping up tables. “That girl you served earlier, the one that Harvey stole, told me to give your tip to you. She definitely caught on to him.” He laughed, handing you a stack of money before waving goodbye.

You gawked at the amount, five-hundred dollars as a tip was probably the biggest you ever got, and it was from a girl who, besides you, took an interest in you that she was sure to soon act on.

☟ ☟ ☟

i feel like part one was written remotely better than this part, but regardless, i hope you enjoy this :)

[pursuitseternal]

A “Mistrial” with a happy ending (literally and smutty): Modern Faerûn AU Astarion x Tav (reincarnation) ⚖️

Astarion x F!Tav | E | 4.9k sex, modern convenience

Summary: Back in the penthouse, Astarion and Tav find happy ending… after happy ending… after happy ending💞

CW: Astarion is a mess and so is his place, cunnilingus on the counter, shower sex, male receiving oral sex, post-coital care bath, Astarion’s microwave is his favorite invention, happy endings forever.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 2…

⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️

“Gods,” Tav groaned as the elevator door closed at last. The second they were alone, riding up to his suite, he was on her. Just like old times. Thigh pressed between her legs, her hips grinding furiously for relief, craving more of him inside her. His lips consumed her own, that cold, caressing palm cupping her chin. His fangs nipped and caught her lips, little drags of their sharp points bringing just a hint of coppery blood to tease both their tongues.

Then, it dinged, sliding doors opening to his private penthouse. His arms swept her up like some bride from the magazines, carrying her into the inner gloom of his place.

With haste, he made his way in the dark, setting her down on some plush, velvety couch. Instantly crushing her beneath his wiry frame.

Even her dark vision struggled to make out the details, as if he pinned her down to keep from looking. She chuckled, suspicions raised. “Astarion….” she rasped into his kiss.

But he just kept kissing her, working on those stubborn little buttons of her shirt again.

Ignoring her.

“Astarion,” she said louder, a hand pressing on his chest. “Why won’t you turn on your lights?”

“Hmm?” he slowed just a bit as he kissed her, keeping his hips pressing his erection hard into her mound. A little faster grinding into her. Eager to pull her back under his spell. “Can’t seem to hear you over that wet cunt of yours…”

Tav gave him a humored shake of her head, wrapping her thighs around him, shoving his face with both her hands. “Earn it, my love,” she laughed, fighting against him. “I’m hungry, I need to wash myself and use your… facilities…”

“Fine,” Astarion groaned, one last grind between her legs, “if you want to get up and leave all this…” Another thrust for good measure.

“I’m sure,” she laughed, giving a buck of her hips to match him. “Let me eat and drink and… relieve myself and I’ll be ready for more all night long.”

He groaned, rolling his crimson eyes, “Bathing chamber is to the left, kitchen just over there, but I’m afraid you’ll find my stores… lacking.”

Tav slid herself free, giving his pouting lips a little placating kiss and giving his cold cheek a little pat. “Good boy,” she purred, “you won’t regret it.”

“Pretty sure I’m about to,” he cringed as she stood. Even in the dark, her elf eyes could see… everything.

“Hells bellow,” she whined and shook her head. “Astarion, you… pig.”

His grimace only grew deeper as he turned to look at her. At her own shocked gaze.

Clothes scattered, books and magazines and empty blood bottles across the floor and chairs and tables. Scraps of paper and cheap trashy novels… law books from a hundred years ago, potion bottles…

“Worse. It’s worse,” she shook her head. But then, she flashed him a sultry smirk. “Good thing you have me back, huh?”

“You have no idea,” he purred, standing from the couch, stretching as if he didn’t have an agonizingly hard erection almost popping out from his pants.

The second the door to his bathing room shut, he raced to his bedroom. A disaster, just like he had been especially these last few centuries. He quickly pushed piles of clothes under his bed, kicking them roughly, not even separating dirty from clean. He grabbed the arm-load of filthy, bloody cups from his end table, dashing to his kitchen to the already overflowing sink.

Hells, he was a mess. Just like when he first stumbled into her path next to that crash site.

And just like last time, his heart thawed, and he would get his life back in order. He glanced towards the sounds of her washing up across the room, debating how much time he had to make any effort to be presentable.

Do the dishes… check the fridge…. No. Make his bed as decent as possible. As pleasurable as possible.

He hurried back down the hall and into his room, stuffing his dresser drawers shut and stacking the random piles of books across the floor.

“You don’t need to hide it now, Astarion,” her voice purred from the door, “it’s not like I don’t know who you are… who you always have been. You may be work, my love, but it’s… pleasurable work.”

He turned slowly from where he crouched at the foot of his bed. A groan released from his throat at the sight of her—just her crisp, white button down, gaping open at the top to let her breasts swell from the opening. And those long, bare naked legs, he scanned them as he swallowed, standing as he hoped his cock hadn’t pressed his zipper open yet. He could see the little curve of her mound peeking from the hem.

“Like what you see?” she gave that sultry grin, her eyes hazy, begging him to come closer. To touch her.

To fuck her.

“Most definitely, darling,” he rasped as he crossed to grab her in his arms. But her hand stopped his mouth, freezing him on the precipice of taking what was his again.

“Tch, down boy,” she gave a little purse of her lips. “I ordered some food delivered… for me at any rate since I’m the only meal you’ll need now.”

A little whimper escaped his mouth from under her touch. Even as his hands wrapped beneath the hem of her shirt to grab those warm, rounded cheeks of her ass.

She held up her little phone, “Found a place online that makes my favorite dishes and they deliver and… before you get too nervous, I told them to hold the garlic.”

Astarion laughed as he pushed her into the hall, fingers lifting the dimmer on his lights to bathe his large, if messy, penthouse. Even cluttered, it was nothing to turn a nose up at, Tav assessed, keeping her jaw from dropping. “Sleek designs, top of the line brands…” she commented as she glanced around. “Clearly you have been doing well over the years, Astarion.”

“Financially, yes,” he preened a bit as he gave her that sidelong, desirous glance. “In every other way, I’m hoping I… improve… now that you’re… here.”

At that, Tav turned, eyes soft and kind and wet, raising herself on her bare feet to place a little kiss on his lips. Reassuring him. Loving him.

“Got anything to drink?” she whispered, a question far too mundane for the sensual tone that escaped her throat.

“The finest tap water Baldur’s Gate City has to offer?” he tried to match that lilt in her voice, even if his mind was wondering if he had any clean cups to offer as well.

She didn’t need to say a word as she crossed the room to the marble-topped island. Bared grey stone in every direction uncluttered, he watched her nod and smile as she looked around his kitchen. By far his cleanest and least used room.

But the approval instantly slimmed as she looked at his sink overflowing with used and bloodied cups. “Ummm, I know I once could wash blood from clothes and armor… but porcelain and stone might prove much harder,” she turned and smirked. Arms folded under her breasts to make them plump out all the more. Taunting him. “Once you decide to actually wash your dishes, I’d be happy to look online if you need…”

“No, no,” he grinned, trying so hard to recover some semblance of control. “After all, you’ve given me plenty of reason now to clear every surface in this place.” His face twisted into that ravenous smirk, his body drawing up to hers from behind as she looked into the sink, pressing his bulge into that bare cleft of her ass. “Clean enough to eat you off of…”

Tav groaned, bucking back slightly. “I think the phrase is just eat off of…” He eased enough for her to turn and give him all of her half-lidded hazy stare. “But I do prefer yours.”

Instantly, his hands gripped at her hips, heaving her to slide onto that cool smooth countertop. “I have always had a way with words, very skilled with my tongue, you know darling.”

Uhhh…. She let him bring her right to the edge of the island. The cold stone beneath her only made the heat between her thighs flame more. Even as he sank to his knees before her, her phone gave a little buzz. “It’s almost here… my food I mean…” but her voice was slick, her words stuck in the pool of lust that coated her throat and belly.

“Funny,” he pushed on her belly to make her recline just perfectly, “mine is already here.” Just a hint of a twist on his lips and a glint in his crimson eyes before he buried it all between her thighs. “Good thing I don’t care about messes, darling. You’re already just drenched for me…” he purred, letting his tongue barely dip between her splayed folds slowly. But at the moan that shuddered from above him, he held nothing back. Circling and sucking, he lapped her up greedily, as if he needed to keep every drop of her arousal from that stone top beneath her for himself.

Tav could have collapsed right then and there, sprawled over his kitchen like the meal she was for him. But it was too sexy a sight to neglect, the press of his nose as it disappeared between her legs, the silver mess of his curls she just had to grip as he ate every last corner of her cunt. Her body remembered it all, the little rolls of her hips in time with his tongue, the command of his hands parting her swollen lips to dive all the deeper…

The ancient dance between them, remembered at last. He was magic, true arcane power at the tip of his tongue as he caught her every burning nerve and flooded her with pleasure. She was lost, fed on and yet hungry herself, chasing the gnawing in her belly to find the fiery bliss that would spill into his mouth at last.

“Gods, my love,” she groaned, his fingers delving and pulling harder into her walls. “I’m… I’m…”

Her phone shook, vibrating on the stone beside her. An unknown number calling.

A rough, dark laugh in his throat, Astarion grabbed it from the counter and answered it. Nevermind the way her juices dripped from his chin. “Yes?” A pause as Tav buried her face in the palm of her hand to hide the egregious gasps that she was making. His eyes watched her anguish. Smirking at her agony. “Yes, the doorman will let you up.”

Click.

“Think I can make you finish before he gets here…?” Before she could pant a yes or no, his hands tore those buttons apart, sending little circles of plastic skittering loudly like rain over the marble. He dove back in, hungry and sloppy now. Voracious as he pumped his fingers and sucked her clit, he wouldn’t stop if that elevator opened and put them on full display.

Hundreds of years of barely touching another soul that wasn’t her, and all his skills came flooding back. The little way he let his fangs catch on her folds, the taste of dribbles of blood—its copper mixing with the salty tang of her arousal, it’s so devious. He couldn’t eat his fill any faster.

Her hand moved his head, goading him faster. Deeper. Shoving his nose hard into that apex of her mound. His cool breath tickled her clit as he rubbed its long point harder where she burned for more. “Close… hurry… so close…” she didn’t even need to take another breath before she erupted with a scream, his name on her lips.

Just then, the elevator dinged, so loud to her ears as she groaned, laying boneless and writhing still on his counter. But Astarion just giggled, wiping his chin on the corner of her shirt as he hurried to meet the delivery.

The poor boy’s blue eyes went wide as he braved the mess inside, distracted enough in that moment to miss the naked female strewn in his kitchen. Astarion reached into his pocket, grabbed the brown paper bag from the youth’s hand, and shoved the coin for 50 pieces into his palm. The boy’s eyes went somehow wider. That tip was earned just by him not uttering a sound, the vampire laughed as he watched the kid stare into his palm at the money until the doors shut.

Giggling, he returned to Tav’s side, her lithe form barely making progress past sitting up and rubbing her thighs together to stretch them out. “Oh my gods,” she laughed, short of air yet from her pleasure. “That was…”

“I’m glad you think so,” he smirked, setting down the bag within her reach. “Now, eat, darling…” he pulled out the plastic containers and utensils. “And, maybe, just maybe… you’ll allow me something warm and fresh as well?”

Her eyes glinted, mischievous, seductive. As if he needed any help making his cock even harder or wetter with those early drips of his seed. “As long as you don’t force me to make too much a mess… again…”

“I make no guarantees, darling,” and just like that he was back on his knees, mouth sucking on her salty thigh, bringing her blood to the surface just a bit before he…

“Mmmm,” Tav moaned as he finally bit. “Delicious.”

“Aren’t you just?” he purred against the warm softness of her skin before sucking a mouthful of her blood. She squirmed under his lips, her takeout growing decidedly colder, untouched the more he touched her.

Untasted the more he tasted her

“Suddenly not hungry?” he crooned, licking his lips as he pulled away, sated enough for now. At least in his belly if not other ways.

“Well…” she pressed her legs together again, sliding herself from the counter to land gracefully before him. “I was just thinking the food can wait… while you’ve waited hundreds of years, my love.”

His left brow arched so wryly, lips curling harder into that feral smirk. “And…?” he rasped. Goading. Prying. Leading her on.

“And… I don’t think I want to talk…” words that made him shiver with ancient recognition. “I am hungry… just not for food, anyway.”

“You dirty, little minx,” he purred, grabbing around her waist. “But look at the state of you, how can you tolerate such a sloppy mess down your legs, hmm? Does someone need to get cleaned up?”

“More tongue bath?” She practically mewled against his lips.

“I was thinking of traditional means, my darling. Why spend all this good coin on luxury when I’ve been alone? Why not... show it off for you, just a little.”

“I hope it’s cleaner than the rest,” she giggled, hand woven in his as he pulled her back towards his bedroom suite.

“Well, despite growing lax in many ways over the long grinding years…” he paused in the frame of the inner doorway, flicking on the softest of lights. “I have never once taken my grooming for granted. A well-presented face has always opened a lot of doors for me, darling.”

Tav froze at the wonder before her, at the floor to ceiling windows that held a sprawling view of the city, of sparkling lights in every direction, of sky high buildings and racing masses of people in every direction. Not that anyone could see all the way up here, his little slice of nowhere above them all. The bathing room itself was pristine, all chrome and glass and marble tiles. A massive walled shower to her left that butted up to the span of windows, a luxuriously deep tub cut so elegantly to her right. And everywhere, the finest soaps and washes and towels imaginable, all heady-scented and clean.

Just like him.

She turned, almost tearing up at how… him… it all was.

His face was like flint, flinching a bit, eyes sharp and mouth forced into a little nervous smile. “Well?” he prompted after clearing his throat.

“Beautiful,” she breathed, “just like you.” She crossed to the wall of glass, her gut dropping as she looked all the way down from such a height. “What do you do for privacy or if you should need to bathe on a sunny day?”

A flicker of his smirk on his face, and he reached to push a single button beside the door. Instantly the windows darkened to black. “Every amenity money can buy,” he purred before pressing it one more time to clear the glass once more. “But, for tonight, I’d like you to indulge in all the stimulation of your senses I can grant you.”

It was so easy to slip the remnants of her pristine shirt from her shoulders. She slid it so easily in retreat, her bare feet slapping on the tile as she made for the open door of the shower. Giving chase, hands busy tearing off his own clothes, he growled to see her already turning on the hot water, already having bubbles and drops streaming over her shoulders and down those perfect swells of her breast.

Making herself right at home…

On purpose.

And there it was, that sly, come-hither slink of her lips and bat of her eyes. Water sprayed off the wall, the vista of the metropolis sprawled beneath them as she pressed her hands against that window glass.

That pert little ass was on display, begging him to fuck her.

And Astarion didn’t need to be given permission twice. Droplets splashed down his back, steam caressing their faces even as her breath brought more moisture with her every exhale against the glass. “Please,” she moaned, a little wiggle of her cheeks enough to brush that perfect pink head of his cock as he closed in.

“Cheeky little pup,” he replied with a single laugh. His hands skated up her sides, reverent and tender. Until he reached those swaying breasts, one in each hand, gripping them greedily. So young, so lithe, she curled against him, arching to grind that rear against him, until his cock rubbed between her cheeks and the plane of his belly. Those fingers slipped over the wet trails on her belly, scoring oh so slightly over where she was burning.

Tav pressed her forehead against the cool glass, just trying to catch her breath. Moisture from her exhales painted the smooth surface before her, until her lungs locked up, just as his fingers slipped their coolness into her to flick over her clit. He touched her just a few times, just enough to get her legs spread and her ass sticking out more for him.

“Wetter than water, my darling,” he purred, sinking two and three fingers deep inside her cunt. “How delicious.”

Tav rolled her hips in time with his movements, her already swollen, sensitive nerves flaming under his cool caress. She would easily unravel in a moment… again.

“Wait,” she breathed, forcing her body to turn, no matter how bad she wanted for him to rut her into oblivion against the glass. Not yet. “You’ve been so good to me, Astarion, but I would hate for you to feel… neglected.”

“I am far from, my pet,” he crooned, taking the opportunity to trap her chin in one hand and press her flushed back against the window.

“Your bouncing, straining, weeping cock says otherwise,” she chuckled slowly, one hand barely brushing a single finger over his sticky slit to make it lurch hard at the touch.

He tried to swallow the grunt in his throat, but his body, so long starved of touch, betrayed him.

“Let me be good to you, Astarion,” she sweetly smiled, sinking on her knees to the sopping tile floor. “You haven’t had anyone to tend to you, it seems, for so long. Let me take care of you now.”

“Decades, centuries I’ve been on my own,” he whimpered as her lips just slightly drew that flushed pink head into her mouth. “Nothing came close to what I had, to how much I loved you, Tav.”

Her responding moan at his words rattled his teeth, vibrating down his shaft right to the base of his spine. Old habits reignited, his fingers spread into her damp locks, riding her head as she drew her mouth back and forth along his cock. Her own touch cradled him, pulling him closer with one hand on his ass. Making sure he kept himself going. “Gently,” he hissed as she sucked harder. Faster. Instantly, she obeyed, checking her own addiction for that salty taste and musky scent that transported her through time itself. “Good girl,” he groaned as that tongue began to take long, languorous licks down his shaft.

Shuddering, he needed to slow himself, having foregone the feeling of a tongue on his cock for so long. It would ruin him and ruin him quickly at this rate. And there was nothing he wanted more than to make that drenched cunt of hers all the more dripping once he came inside. A commanding tug in her hair, and she released; two fingers under her chin and he drew her to her feet once more.

Her lips quivered, all the pinker and fuller from their hard work. Running a thumb across them, he smirked all the more as her tongue darted out to lick its caress.

“Hungry?” he purred, leaning so close, his lips brushed her own, his thumb now pulling her chin to open that eager mouth.

“Ravenous,” she replied as she yanked him hard enough by his shoulders to make him crush her against that slippery glass. Her lips lashed to his, catching on his fangs with purpose to draw just a hint more of her blood. Fumbling as his fingers slipped on skin, he gripped at her leg until it wrapped tightly around his hips.

A growl in his throat, he guided his cock through her slick, hotter than the steaming water that trailed through the scars on his back. Just a little smile against her lips, and he sheathed himself once more. His head dropped to her shoulder, one hand pressed against the steaming window as he held nothing back now. Her nails dug into his back, cold sharp pain piercing the wash of warmth over his skin and around his cock.

The sloshing of water as the coupled, the sloppy pants he made as he pressed his head into her neck, noises echoed off the glass walls, but the only sound he could hear was wet slap after slap of his hips snapping against hers. “Darling,” he groaned, “you’re perfect… always have been…” he grunted as she arched just a bit more to have him fuck deeper, “…always will be.”

Little mewls escaped her, his fingers clawed hard into the crease of her thigh, his hand squeaking down the window as he began to lose control. His legs shook, her walls clenching hard as she arched against him one more. Those lithe fingers of hers slipped to his ass, holding hard and fast to steady herself as she rode his own thrusts through her haze of orgasm.

The way she trembled, clinging hard to him like he was the only thing in this life to keep her steady… that wash of connection, that intimacy he craved for so long… it swept him away, his whole body giving her everything. All the ache and numbness from the years alone washed in the warm flow of water.

There was only her now.

Every muscle went taught and he forgot to breathe as he fucked erratically into her. His vision swam in the wave of pleasure that consumed him, a swirl of wet and blinding dark as his face contorted in ecstasy. Pump and pump of his spend filling her again before it dripped down both their legs.

He couldn’t stand on his own two feet much longer, not with how he shook from exertion. But for her, he would make one last effort. He slipped from between her legs, hand turning the tap of the shower to stop the gentle flow of water. For her, he would steady his legs, scoop her in his arms, and caress her lips until he set her carefully in the deep white circle of his tub. He let the faucet run until they were both chest deep in bubbles and scented waters, surrounded by warmth. But there was nothing so comforting or delicious as the heat from her well-pleasured body as she cuddled into him.

Lights from the city sparkled, the best breathtaking view money could buy. But even such marvels paled in comparison to the lights dancing in her eyes, her gaze soft and sweeping over every detail of his face. Her hand stroked slowly up his cheek and into his hair.

Those crimson eyes closed, his face almost frowning, the sadness of centuries of isolation and heartbreak drained by each brush of her fingers across his soft, cold, and lustrous skin. She watched as a single tear gathered in the corner of his eye, but she didn’t say a word, sparing his pride as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Time slipped by, hardly noticed as they soaked in their love more than the waters, growing colder as their love flamed all the brighter.

Night had darkened, the waters now as chilling as his undead skin… and then Tav’s stomach rumbled so loudly, Astarion could only laugh quietly and stand from the tub, her hand cradled gently in his.

He took the fluffiest towel in his long, lithe hands and wrapped it around her back. A deep, contented sigh in his throat as she used it to slowly wipe those drops from her beautiful body. “Let’s go warm up your meal, darling,” he smiled so softly as he did the same before tucking the towel around his narrow waist. “I might have to wipe all the blood of Gale first….”

He started to leave the bathroom, Tav trailing after, wrapped snug as she frowned in tickled confusion. “G-Gale?” she stuttered as she followed him towards the kitchen.

Astarion drew up short, a bit shocked. “I’m… I’m sorry. I…” he gave the most sheepish, most embarrassed grin, hand sweeping through his damp locks to try and fluff them back up. “It’s been such a long time without… company, I took to calling the microwave… Gale…”

Tav gave a tickled, humored smirk. “Adorable. Because he makes sure your food is always warm?”

“And I can yell at him when it doesn’t work properly, yes,” he added, a rakish smirk twisting a bit as he grabbed a rag in his hand. He busied himself wiping off the largest splotches of brown from the inside of the chrome walls, watching from the corner of her eye as Tav retrieved her phone and smiled as she looked at its screen.

“I know that look,” he said, still fixing his gaze on his cleaning. “Tell me what’s caught your notice, checked your perception?”

She set the phone down and crossed quickly to hug him from behind. “I… I didn’t know… I didn’t think it would… happen. That any of,” she gestured to the room, to his half naked body wrapped tight in fluffy cotton, “this would happen.”

He turned, embracing her as she positively vibrated with something exciting. “Well?” he gave that single word its own tremor as he purred.

“When I was… assigned to this case in the City, I just… had a feeling. I applied at a firm here in town, to take a shot at moving and at being a prosecutor in Big Bad Baldur’s Gate City.” She was blushing, trying to hide her beautiful face against her shoulder.

His fingers wrapped around her chin, making her turn slowly to meet his gaze. “And?”

“I have an interview with them, two days from now…”

Astarion grinned widely, taking her container of food and tossing in his magic box to warm it. And then he grabbed her, to spin her around in joy. “Two days will be plenty, enough time for you to prepare and us to… reunite properly…”

“What about…?”

He silenced her with his lips, ignoring that hunger in his belly and groin for more of all she had to offer him. “Don’t you think twice about our silly little mistrial now. I’ll take the penalty, go on probation… I don’t care. The mistrial can be all my doing. I have more than enough coin for us to live in comfort for centuries, more than enough time to create a new, glowing reputation. But one thing’s for sure, I’m not wasting any time without you, my darling.”

Tav grinned into his kiss, his fangs tugging at her lips, but for once her hunger matched his own. Even still, even when the timer dinged as the scent of cooked food filled his penthouse for the first time ever, she couldn’t bear to break from that mouth, those hands.

Not now that they had each other once more.

[nothingsure127]

🍃Unplanned Journey🍃

Pairing: Park Sunghoon. as father, fluff🍬 _________________________________

-🍼

chap: 02🎐

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The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating his messy apartment.

The sun crept through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day. & the sound of his alarm clock ringged, He groaned and reached over to turn it off,

waking Sunghoon from a restless night. He slowly opened his eye,

As he sat up, wincing from the pain in his back.

He looked at the clock on the wall and realized it was already 7:30 o'clock in the morning. He had slept for 6 hours straight, a rare luxury in his life lately ,the longest and most restful sleep he had gotten in days.

He sat up probably protesting the movment on the couch his body stiff and sore from sleeping in an uncomfortable position all night.

still holding his son in his arms.

He looked down in his arms the baby sleeping peacefully.

The baby was sleeping soundly in his arms, drool dribbling down his chin.

A warm fatherly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth even in spite of his discomfort, feeling a sense of love and pride swell in his chest.

Sunghoon looked around the apartment and groaned. It was a mess, and he knew he needed to clean it up. But first, he needed to take care of the baby.

He carefully extricated himself from the baby's grip and set him down in his bassinet.

The baby stirred but didn't wake up. Sunghoon stumbled to the kitchen, his mind foggy from lack of sleep.

He made himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, sipping the hot liquid.

As he stood there, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him. His anger at the baby's crying, his guilt and regret for his outburst, and his determination to make things work. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

he winced as he remembered yelling at the baby. He had been so frustrated and exhausted, but that was no excuse.

He should have never taken his anger out on the innocent baby.

He still felt guilty for yelling, but he also felt frustrated and overwhelmed.

Taking care of a child on his own was harder than he had ever imagined.

As he sipped his coffee again, he looked around the apartment, taking in the mess Laundry was piled up in the corner,

take-out containers were scattered on the coffee table, the floors were all messed up, and the sink was filled with dirty dishes,

in this past 1 week after the baby's birth he did no house choreos, he get no time for himself either,

rushing to hospital to store, his saving was endeed already, He thought about his job, wondering if he should call in sick again. He already had taken so much time off to take care of the baby

In this past 1 week from his work,He needed to clean the apartment,

grocery shopping, and figure out how to balance his job with taking care of his child.

He had no idea when the last he had a proper meal was, He felt overwhelmed just thinking about it all He knew it was going to be a long and exhausting day.

He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "One thing at a time," he muttered to himself. He needed to take better care of himself, not just the baby, if he wanted to make it through this.

He took another sip of coffee and let out a deep sigh. "Okay," and set his coffee mug down on the counter.

"I'll start with the most important things and work my way down the list."

He also realized that he had run out of formula, and he needed to buy more. He also needed diapers and baby food. He made a mental list of all the things he had to do,

He found a notepad and started making a list of things to do. First, he needed to figure out how to feed himself and the baby. He opened the fridge, but it was empty except for some old takeout containers and a few condiment packets.

He picked up the baby's & his dirty clothes from the floor and headed to the bathroom He loaded the machine with the clothes and some detergent, then started the wash cycle.

As he waited for the load to finish, he began to clean up around the apartment.

He picked up trash and put it in the bin, swept the floors, and He wiped down the counters and scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom floors. The whole apartment soon looked much tidier than it had before.

After an half hour later when he was hanging the washed clothes on balcony to get dry, he folded it carefully and put it away in the baby's drawers.

He then realized that he hadn't eaten anything for breakfast yet. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him of the fact

Sunghoon looked around the apartment, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

He had accomplished a lot more than he thought he would, and the apartment was starting to look like a real home.

He looked in the fridge but found it mostly empty.

All he had was some leftover pizza from a few days ago. He grabbed a slice and began to eat it cold, thought that he would need to go grocery shopping soon.

Sunghoon finished his slice of pizza and headed to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water felt refreshing on his skin, and he closed his eyes, letting the water wash over him, he started to relax, he didn't hear any cries coming from the baby. He assumed the baby was still asleep,

and he let himself relax under the hot water, enjoying the rare moment of peace and quiet.

After a few minutes, he finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed, but still tired from lack of sleep.

He stood infornt the mirror in bedroom, d was drying his hair with towel when his mind drift to something.

He was lost in thought, his mind wandering to all the tasks that still needed to be done.

He didn't realize that the baby hadn't cried at all, and he didn't hear the soft sucking noise coming from the baby's crib.

However, the baby had been awake for quite some time already. He was lying in his crib, suckling his thumb, He was probably thirsty & hungry, He just watched the sunlight streaming in through the window birds flying.

The baby's stomach growled softly, hungry for some food. His diaper was now quite full wet, but he still didn't let out a sound.

He just lay there quietly, As the minutes passed, the baby started to get more and more restless. His face twisted in discomfort, and he squirmed in his crib, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Finally, the baby let out a small whimper, his hunger and discomfort becoming too much to bear. He sucked harder on his thumb, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

He was done drying his hair with a towel after his shower. He was whistling a tune, feeling refreshed and slightly more energic than he had in days. As he looked himself at mirror all refreshed cool.

He stopped whistling, as he heard a small sound coming from the crib - the soft, whimpering sound of a baby in distress., and his heart sank as he remembered that he hadn't checked on his son since he woke up.

"fuck hoon!" he cursed himself & dropped the towel and rushed toward the crib in living room he saw the baby in his crib, tears streaming down his face, suckling on his thumb desperately.

"Oh, oh no," he said, He picked up the baby, feeling the wet and sticky diaper. "I'm so sorry, little one. I forgot,"

The baby whimpered and snuggled closer to Sunghoon, seeking comfort.

"Shh, shh," Sunghoon said gently, cradling the baby in his arms. "I've got you. Let's get you cleaned up and fed, okay?"

Sunghoon carried the baby to the bathroom and began to prepare a bath for him. He filled the bath tub with warm water and added some baby wash, making sure the water wasn't too hot or cold.

"It's okay," he murmured to the baby as he lowered him into the water. "We're going to get you all cleaned up, and then we'll feed you. Sunghoon sat on tool baby in his arms

Sunghoon gently washed him, being extra careful with his sensitive skin. He poured water over the baby's body, washing away the dried spit-ups and caked-on drool.

The baby looked up at him with large, trusting eyes as Sunghoon gently washed his body, being careful around his sensitive areas. The baby seemed to relax slightly, enjoying the warm water and the soothing sound of his father's voice.

Sunghoon kept talking to the baby as he worked, trying to keep him calm and comfortable.

"You're a good boy," he whispered.

"You didn't cry out, even though you were hungry. Are you still upset with papa? For yelling last night? Is that why you didnt cry? Hm?"

"Papa is sorry little one pls don't do that again.. you're such a strong boy you know?"

The baby seemed to understand the tone of his father's voice, and he cooed softly, reaching out to touch Sunghoon's face. Sunghoon smiled at him, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over him.

As he washed the baby, Sunghoon couldn't help but feel guilty for forgetting about him.

He had been so focused on himself and his own relaxation that he hadn't heard the baby's soft, quiet cries. He vowed to be more attentive in the future and to make sure his son's needs were prioritized above his own

He finished washing the baby and lifted him out of the tub, wrapping him in a soft, warm fluffy baby towel.

The baby cuddled closer to him, letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

Sunghoon smiled down at the baby, feeling a wave of affection wash over him. He knew he had made a mistake, forgetting to check on his son earlier.

But now he felt grateful that the baby hadn't cried and had remained patient.

"That's better," Sunghoon said, gently drying the baby's body with the towel. As he sat down on couch.

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Sunghoon was staning acroos the balcony holding the baby in his arms.

He held the baby close to his chest, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he watched the baby drink from the bottle.

He spoke softly to the baby, whispering comforting words. "There you go, little one," he said. "You're getting nice and full now. You must have been so hungry papa is sorry.."

The baby suckled eagerly at the rubber nipple of the bottle, his tiny hands grasping the fabric of Sunghoon's shirt.

He looked up at his father with wide, curious eyes, seeming to listen intently to the soothing words he was whispering.

Sunghoon smiled down at the baby, his heart swelling with affection.

Sunghoon was watching the baby closely, his heart swelling with love and tenderness.

"That's my boy," he murmured, "Drink up. You must have been so hungry, waiting for me to feed you. I'm sorry I took so long."

The baby continued to drink, his eyes never leaving his father's face.

Sunghoon couldn't help but chuckle at the serious expression on the baby's tiny face. It was as if he was trying to concentrate completely on the task at hand, making sure he didn't miss a single drop of milk.

Sunghoon continued to talk softly to him, telling him how much he loved him and how proud he was to be his father.

"You're such a good boy, So patient and strong."

The room was quiet except for the sound of the baby's suckling and Sunghoon's gentle voice.

It was a moment of pure peace and connection between father and son, a moment that Sunghoon wished could last forever.

As the baby finished drinking, he let out a soft burping sound. Sunghoon laughed quietly and gently patted the baby's back, helping him to let out the gas.

"Better?" he asked, cradling the baby against his chest again "Good job," he said, patting the baby's back softly.

"You drank that whole bottle like a champ. You're a growing boy, aren't you?"

He lifted the baby up to his shoulder and patted his back gently, waiting for another burp.

The baby snuggled closer to him, his tiny body warm and soft against Sunghoon's chest.

as he checked the time on his phone it was 9 am, his shift is in 10 he sighed heavily.

He rocked the baby gently in his arms, start speaking softly to him again.

"You're my whole world, you know that? Everyone left me.. i have no one instead of you little one."

talking about everyone tears filled corner of his eye he sobs trying to held back his tears.

"I love you so much," he whispered, running a gentle hand over the baby's soft, velvety hair.

"More than anything in the world. And I promise I'll do better from now on. I won't neglect you like I did earlier. You're my top priority from now, okay?"

"You're such a good boy," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of the baby's head. "I'm so sorry I didn't feed you as soon as you woke up. I promise I'll be better from now on. You come first, always."

The baby cuddled closer to him, seemingly satisfied and content after his meal. He held him close, feeling overcome with love and a fierce protectiveness.

The baby babbled softly, seemed to understand the words, as if he was listening intenly to every syllable. He continued look up at his father,

his small tiny hands reaching up to touch Sunghoon's cheek, as if he could understand the words being spoken to him.

Sunghoon felt a lump form in his throat at the gesture, touched by his son's innocent sweetness..

he suddenly heard door bell ring, "who could it be at this time?" he thought to himself, he didn't gave anyone his this address nor even any friend's or family.. he stepped forward to open toward door the baby was still in his arm..

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____________TO BE CONTINUED..

(I didn't recheck so unsee my mistakes in grammar spelling I hope you guys enjoyed the first one chap look forward for more. Do note & reblog🍃 & let me know your opinion pls :' ()

[littleadaline]

Broken Record [P.G6]

Tous les mêmes by Stromae

Warnings: Angst 🤭?????

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: In my anti-Cupid era. COPE.

Part II

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First occurrence:

“Pablo Páez Gavira! Your socks are on the stairs again!” You yelled out, picking up Pablo’s sweaty training socks. A few weeks after moving in together, Pablo’s habits started to worsen. Socks left and right. Shirts left and right. Unkept personal space, hair from his beard trimmer sprinkled in the bathroom sink. Every single time, an argument erupted.

“Pablo, your socks are still on the stairs. I asked you to put them away hours ago. I’ve already done laundry, I’m not doing a load just for your socks.” Your words echoed against the four walls of your room, Gavi’s focus being solely on his phone. “Oye, I’m talking to you!” You snapped your fingers at him.

“Mh, yeah. Thanks for the laundry, amor.” He said, barely looking up from his phone.

You sighed, exhausted from picking up after him. “Why do I stay?” You asked yourself.

Calling Aurora, you sobbed as you explained her brother’s behaviour.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. He’s just… a slob. Dirty dishes everywhere, dirty clothes. Tissues and towels randomly discarded. I don’t recognize the state of our home anymore. And I can’t keep cleaning for the both of us anymore, not as he undoes everything the second I’m done.”

But Aurora’s words were only excuses. She made you feel hysterical; unreasonable for feeling the way you did. She idolized Pablo’s actions, refusing to see the emotional and physical strain his behaviour had on you. Sobbing in bed, you turn away from Gavi, refusing to sleep face to face anymore.

Second occurrence:

The house was a mess. With his injury Gavi was always home. You, on the other hand, were juggling between your university classes and your internship, leading to an easier than normal exhaustion rate. Finally pulling up to your street, you prayed that Gavi had remembered to call the plumber. Opening the door, your face fell as you saw the state of the kitchen.

“Pablo…?” You called out for him.

“Gaming room.” His eyes were glued to the screen, barely greeting you as you came into the room.

“What happened in the kitchen?” You asked, a twinge of exhaustion in your voice. You were bracing yourself for one of Pablo’s nonchalant answers.

“Wanted to cook, but the dishwasher was broken. And I was too tired to do the dishes by hand. Why didn’t you tell me the dishwasher was broken?”

“Please tell me this is a joke…Pablo I told you to call the plumber, because the dishwasher is broken. The plumber goes on vacation for the next 3 weeks. That’s 3 more weeks with a broken dishwasher.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Dunno what the big deal is… You can just wash them by hand. Besides, how was I supposed to know to call him?”

“I left you a reminder on your phone, a voicemail and a handwritten note in the kitchen.” You said, slamming the door close.

Instead of catching up on the reports for your internship, you spent that night cleaning up Gavi’s culinary mess. You were finally putting away the final dishes when Hurricane Páez Gavira came and undid everything, leaving you in a state of emotional distress. “Why do I still do this?” You asked yourself.

Third occurrence:

Pablo Gavi. That was the name everyone in the media was talking about.

Gavi, rising midfielder, caught going out with a social media influencer.

Pablo Páez Gavira is simply a man.

Y/N Y/LN unable to keep her man away from other women.

Is infidelity a requirement to being a football player?

Headlines had your head spinning. Yes, Gavi has been caught going out with an influencer notorious for breaking couples. But you weren’t worried, not anymore. Your relationship was barely functioning at this point, with you and Gavi sleeping in separate rooms. In the eyes of the media, you and Gavi were still dating. But in private, you had gone from lovers to strangers in the span of a few months. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, the news stung, but something inside of your soul burst. A feeling of hope overtook you. You started packing your bags, leaving behind anything that reminded you of Gavi. After everything you had put yourself through in order to save the sinking ship that was your relationship; after the nights spent praying for a better partner, you finally had your way out. Gavi would forever be painted as the villain in your relationship, the reason why you had split, the reason why you had changed. And you didn’t mind, not one bit.

“Where are you going?” Pablo’s voice interrupted you.

“Away.” You coldly answered. He shuffled closer, picking up the hoodie he had given you for your 2nd anniversary.

“You forgot to pack this.” He handed it to you. It took a lot of self control to not smack it out of his hands.

“Keep it. I have no use for it anymore.” You lifted your suitcase from the floor, bringing it to the hallway.

“What if you get cold?”

“Why do you care, mh? Why do you suddenly care? Is it because you were caught with that influencer? Was it worth it? Was she worth it? I loved you, Pablo. I really did. But you proved yourself to be a selfish person, and an ever more selfish lover. I’m leaving,” you held back tears. “ I’m leaving this city, you, this house. Whatever happens to you in life, good luck. Maybe we weren’t meant to workout, but I would have loved to be treated with some much deserved respect in this relationship. I hope this failure serves as a lesson for your future relationship.”

“Respect? I respected you-” Pablo started arguing, but was cut off by your voice toppling his.

“You never respected me. I was left to pick up the slack, rain or shine; tired or not; I was the sole caretaker for this house. I cooked for us, I not only cleaned up after myself, but after you! For things I shouldn’t even have to remind you! Like your fucking socks, or the goddam dishes, or to call the fucking plumber. You couldn’t even bother Pablo. And I grew tired. So maybe you cheating off with this influencer isn’t that bad of a thing, because now I have an excuse to say to your face as to why I’m leaving you. Have fun being the villain in this story, Pablo, because I’m done.” You picked up your remaining bags and loaded them off in the trunk of your car.

Pablo was still standing in the doorway, his face closed off. He couldn’t do anything besides watch your car leave the driveway, the portal closing behind you for the last time.

[wildemaven]

meant to be | javier peña

-> pairing: javier peña x f!reader

-> wc: 1645

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; domestic javi, established relationship, unprotected p in v, fluff, talks of starting a family, reader has zero descriptive features

-> a/n: this was posted on my other account and i am moving it here now. it is also a rewrite of an older fic i did with frankie.

masterlist

Fall is settling in nicely in Texas. The days are still warm, but the weekends no longer hold as much daylight as they did weeks ago. 

Everything transitioning into its autumnal journey, your yard drenched in rustic hues and sunshine. 

You and Javier both loved taking advantage of the nicer weather, wanting to soak up as much of it as possible before the shift into a colder season, deciding to spend your evenings on the patio as the days wound down and the sun set behind the pasture on the west side of the ranch.  

Chores were the first thing that needed to be tackled. Divide and conquer seemed to work well for you both. You took on the inside duties of laundry, dusting, and food prep, while Javier managed the outside— mowing, tree trimming, truck washing. 

Bed made with clean sheets, a load of dirty clothes placed into the washer– the previous load hung in the backyard on the clothesline, dinner prepared and waiting– your list of to-do’s dwindling as the day went on. Now you find yourself planted at the sink of dirty dishes, your kitchen window a front row seat to the old barn, your eyes glued on your husband as he washes his truck. 

His striped sky blue shirt encapsulates every detail of his back, sleeves tight around the bulk of his arms, muscles flexing as he scrubs the soapy sponge back and forth across the metal surface– and you thank whoever designed his well-fitted jeans.  A week's worth of dirt slowly slid off the sides of the old ranch truck, a prized possession that had been passed down from Chucho when Javier had decided to take on more responsibilities around the ranch. 

It has been two years since moving into the home Javier grew up in, wanting something big with the hopes of starting a family in the future. Chucho insisted you both move in, stating the house was far too big for just him— he moved into the ranch’s guest house down the dirt road. Memories tucked to every corner of the house, old family photos still hanging in the very spot his Mama placed them.

Javier must sense he’s being watched when he turns towards the kitchen window, catching your eyes on him. His gaze lingers a bit, soap and water dripping from the sponge in his large hand. He shoots you a wink with a smile that makes you instantly weak. 

“Shit!” The mug you had been washing slips from your soapy hands into the water below, water splashing back at you, soaking the thin material of your dress, your attention drawn back to the sink and the remaining dishes. Somehow Javier still makes you flustered after all these years with just a simple look thrown your way. 

Glancing back out the window again to find Javier is no longer there, the suds freely dripping off the truck door and sponge discarded on the ground. The creak of the screen door lets you know exactly where your husband is as you proceed to dry the drinking glasses and place them in the cupboard. His shuffling around in the living room does little to help you know what he’s up to. 

“Javi?” You call out to him as you finish putting away the last of the plates and bowls, wiping the counter off before you go in search of your husband. 

The slight crackle of a record starting makes you aware of his location– the living room. His old collection of records and record player had been boxed away in the attic after he moved away. Last Spring, while you were putting away the winter blankets, you stumbled upon his music collection– something from nearly every genre. You pulled everything down one weekend while he was busy in town with Chucho, having everything set up on the bookcase and a record going when he got home. It became a habit that one of you would slip on a new record, windows open allowing the breeze to carry the songs throughout the house. 

A familiar tune begins, it instantly brings a smile to your face.

“Wise men say...”

The low timber of his voice sends a tingle down your spine any time he sings your wedding song. For such a reserved man, who refuses to indulge in karaoke, he jumps at any chance to serenade you within the walls of your home— one of the many things you love about him.

A set of arms wrap around you, welcoming you back from your walk down memory lane, pulling you against his chest as he begins to move about the kitchen with you. Your bodies swaying together as the music continues, his face nuzzled in close to your cheek as he hums along with the song.

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be…”

Your body leans into him, the rest of the chores fully abandoned as you both waver about the kitchen, savoring how easy it is to create new memories in your home.

“You sure know how to get out of chores Peña.” You tell him just as he spins you around so you’re facing him, looping your arms around his neck while his hands settle on your back— Javier singing along completely ignoring your comment. 

“If I’m not mistaken Querida, I’m pretty sure you were hardly putting an effort into yours.” He teases you before grabbing your hand to send you twirling around. You can’t contain your laughter, living for these spontaneous moments of ease with the man you’re so completely head over heels for. Your body is pulled back into his, resuming the energetic flow between the two of you. A sweet rhythm of bliss now strumming through your body as you melt into his arms. 

“Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Hiding your smirk into his warm neck, knowing full well what he’s referring to. 

“That wasn’t you gawking at me through the window—“

“I was not gawking, Javi!” As you playfully pat his chest. “I was just admiring the view.” 

“You were in fact gawking. I think I clocked you at 10 minutes from the first moment I noticed you hadn’t moved.”

“You are so exaggerating!” He’s definitely not wrong though, it’s hard to pull your eyes away from such a thing of beauty. 

“How about we take this to the bedroom, Querida– and I’ll show you exaggeration!” He taunts into your ear. 

 “Javier! Your truck is half washed in the driveway— and I know you’re going to be pissed about the soap drying on it right now. Plus, I already made the bed.” 

He’s dragging you back towards the stairs that lead to the bedroom, his infectious smirk displayed across his stupid handsome face, your body doing little to stop itself from his magnetic pull. 

“I’ll just wash it again. I’ll even set a chair up for you to admire up close. Get you one of those ice cold beers too.” He says as he falls back into the bed, pulling your body on top of his. 

“And I’m pretty sure this won’t be the last time we dirty these sheets this weekend…” His voice muffled against your neck, his lips planting kiss after kiss as he pleads his case– you easily succumb to his antics.

His hands work at the line of buttons that trail down the front of your dress, your own undoing his buckle before working at the button and zipper of his jeans– he hisses as your hands hastily move over bugle straining behind his jeans. 

Your dress is open and hanging off your shoulders as you slowly sink down on Javier’s cock, the stretch of him a welcomed adjustment, his length hitting something delicious as you settle at the base of him. 

“Fuck, Javi!!” Hands splayed over Javier’s firm chest for support, your head thrown back as a rapturous whine pours out into the room, a slight bounce to your breasts as you move— the cups of your bra pulled down, the cool air has your nipples pebbled and tight. Javier is taken by your angelic state— you're a sight to be seen. 

Javier’s fingers are digging into the meat of your thighs, the slow stuttering roll of your hips as you move over his cock has him worked up faster than he has anticipated. 

“Querida— Shit! Baby, I’m not gonna last— you look so good riding my cock like that!” His hips bucking up at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him. 

“I’m right there with you, Amor!” 

A few swipes over your throbbing clit and a string of quick thrusts, both of you cresting the euphoric peak in unison. 

You collapse on top of Javier, a strong arm wraps around your waist, a hand cupping your neck, Javier determined to keep you as close as possible— you fully melting into his touch. 

Breathing ragged and hearts racing— bodies perfectly satiated and filled with an intense love for each other. 

“I should probably get up and get dinner started. That should be plenty of time for you to rewash the truck.” You don’t show any signs of actually doing so, too relaxed to care about finishing the rest of your chores. 

“Or— we can just lay here a little longer. Save the food and truck washing for tomorrow. We can go into town later and get dinner instead.”

“A man after my heart. I’d marry you if I wasn’t already.” He rolls you off him onto your back, hands roaming over your dewy skin as he kisses you slowly. 

The lull of the record player echoes through the house as the music fades out, clothes and sheets are thrown about the bedroom, the day’s plans forgotten as you both seek out a more exhilarating afternoon. 

[lilith-little-world]

Could you please write some domestic headcanons for reader and wukong? Love your story btw^^ (or more like the concept lol)

Awww thank you, I wanted to do a slight twist to the isekai trope that explains how the reader got transported to another world. Although, the reader is far from the only one. She just happens to survive the transmigration... Kind of. I'm honestly kind of excited to start writing the first chapter soon. It's going to be one hell of a ride.

Now to those domestic headcanons, hope there are no spelling errors, I manage to break my Grammarly keyboard every single time I write something-

(Don't you dare judge the quality I was rushing through so badly then I realized I forgot how to fucking draw. I'm going to post some art here, it's going to be meh quality just until I get used to drawing again.)

- At first, it took a good while for you guys to settle down in one place. With you enjoying the urban lifestyle. Since it made visiting shops, friends, and just having a fun day out way easier. Wukong prefers to be isolated, his only interactions being mostly with Mk and you. However, after Wukong complains for the 100th time, you move to Flower Fruit Mountain under the condition he takes you out every few days into the city and that your friends can come and visit every once in a while.

- Surprisingly, he tries to renovate and spruce things up. House feeling a little small? Want a room for your things specifically? He and his clones will start making preparations (Also maybe ask Mk and the gang for help on what exactly to do and if he's desperate enough, he'll ask DBK for some advice.) Slowly but surely, the once small hut becomes more home-like. Then when you're both satisfied, he'll move on making the pathway to the house to the entrance of the waterfall. Cleaning up any debris or rumble of pillars and crumbling murals of the past. It was by your constant nagging that he restores it, getting rid of vines and moss.

- Other than wandering around or chilling at the house you literally have nothing to do. As much as it was a nice thought of spending most of the day doing your hobby, you physically don't have enough willpower to do it every day. One day while laying around, you noticed how dusty and unorganized the house truly was. So that is how you got stuck with cleaning and keeping things organized. Yet that didn't stop there, you noticed small things like a creaky loose floorboard. That you managed to fix after searching for how to on your phone. The sink isn't draining properly, drain cleaner is already on the need-to-buy list. The problem still not solve, time to put in some elbow grease and hope you won't get too dirty.

- However, you're definitely not touching his little hoard that he has been collecting over the centuries. The last thing you want is to release some ancient curse or break something that was once important.

- He can't cook, don't even try to make him, you don't want another fire, so get that cookbook open and pray you made something edible. Over the months you had gotten better, but there's much to improve. Yet, complete failure or not, Wukong still tries it out since he is immortal, it won't kill him, and the last thing he wants is for you to get seriously sick from food poisoning. If the food was not edible, then he's either going to get takeout or you both are going out to eat, give him a few minutes to throw up the abomination you created out his stomach.

- It's only fair that he washes the dishes. You make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it's the least he can do. (That's if he still suffers from food poisoning, it's your turn to wash the dishes.) He picks up around the kitchen, any produce you left out back in the fridge. Spices in the cupboard in their usual spots. He knows you do a lot around the house, so it's now his turn to help.

- There's one chore you both do together, it's washing and putting the clothes away. You separate the clothing in their respective pile, while Wukong loads the washer. Whoever hears the washer finishes, loads the dryer, (cough you cough). Then when the loads are done, you guys come together and fold the clothes. While watching tv to pass the time. Although Wukong likes to make a big scene whenever he grabs your underwear or bra, it was only natural that you do the same with his boxers. You guys now know each other's undergarments and clothes sizes after that. Well, it makes shopping easier.

- Wukong kept his word and takes you to the city, and if you want a vacation away from the mountain. He got a temple ready to stay at and landmarks to show you. Over the years, he saw many things and wants to show you all of them. He never liked big crowds, so going to festivals was never his thing until he finds out you enjoy it. Well, looks like he's hanging out with the gang in the city, yaaay... Just make sure you're beside him for a good portion of the time there.

- He was a little hesitant about inviting the gang to the house, but he couldn't say no to both the student that he considers like his own son, Mk and his darling lover, the love of his life, you. In all honestly, Mk and you had already planned a day to bring the group over, and you guys decided to tell him last minute. Even though he would like a heads up, so he can reject the idea, strangely the simian doesn't mind. He had nearly forgotten that the mountain could feel so... warm and lively.

- Just be warned now that he has you beside him 24/7, this touch-starved monkey will be cuddling and kissing you, the first chance he gets. Don't fall for his tricks, he's a sneaky one.

- You made a small habit to groom his fur. Running your fingers through, him relaxing within your hold. If there's a comb or brush, you will get out any tangles or knots. His fur is now soft and fluffy and he is ready for pets and cuddles. You like to spoil him once in while.

- You guys hardly argue or fight, there was a time you even feared that the honeymoon phase will be over and then reality will hit. Yet it hasn't, maybe because Wukong is actually trying to be a better person so he can stay by your side. Also, he saw you angry once and he will do anything not to get on your bad side... again. Wukong tries to get your thoughts first and asks for people's advice, though he still has trouble speaking his ideas or thoughts. Being alone for centuries will do a lot of damage to a person’s psyche.

- So things are pretty peaceful, Wukong is opening up more and you managed to have a happy life despite the odds being against you. Now it's time to answer the question, will you become immortal and join Wukong for eternity, or prolonged/have your regular human lifespan? Sadly, Wukong wouldn't be able to handle your death. It will take all of his last remaining time to ever move on...

Wait a minute-

[pedrostylez]

The Call

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

summary: reader and Javier are coworkers that typically hate each other, but find each other helpful in relieving that stress

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count:2.2k 

warnings etc: trigger warning-mentions of abuse, but this is mostly fluff, angst and sad exclusive NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: I’m wanting to wrap up this mini story I have created by giving some context to 2 different things I’ve mentioned along the way. 1 being this, where the reader opens up about her past so that Javier has some insight, and the other one shot being related to Peña not getting off…OOP! 

Happens between “The First Week” and “Mi Luz”

It was just another weekend where you and Peña had not followed up with each other initially, when he called you from his home phone saying, “I bought new whiskey so I could get to know you better.” He laughed to himself, giddy at the prospect of getting you in his bed again. He had thought about you last night, and wondered why you hadn’t come over after work, but the week had been long and you likely wanted to rest. Today was a new day, and he hoped to get you to come over. 

“I don’t like whiskey.” You scoffed through the phone, looking up at your living room ceiling. You were too quick to answer the phone, thinking it was going to be your mom who had just hung up on you. You hoped that Peña didn’t read too far into it. 

“Good thing I got tequila for you cariño, now come over.” He chuckled, loving how you were so quick to respond. 

“Peña…” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I really can’t, I am waiting on a phone call.” Admitting it wasn’t something you wanted, but you didn’t know how else to get him to leave you alone for today. It wasn’t a good chance you would be the company he wanted. 

He paused on the other end-you didn’t typically sound so defeated. He thought about cracking a joke that you were waiting for another guy to call, but he stopped himself. “I’ll come your way in a little bit. Tequila will go to waste at my place.” And with that he hung up, not giving you a chance to tell him no. 

He was quick to be knocking on your door, alcohol back in the paper bag he had originally purchased it in and smirking at how surprised you were to see him. You ushered him in, not even making a snide comment like usual. He turned to look at you, eyes raking up and down your body to see that on this Saturday, you were paler than usual, and less put together. Sure, you would not be done up, wearing comfy clothes, but something was off today. “Are you alright, hermosa?”

You glanced up at him while wringing your hands. “Take off your shoes Peña, stop tracking dirt in my place.” You knew he was watching to see if you were okay-having a comment was the only way to get him off your back. 

But he knew, toeing off his boots and setting the bag down on the counter. He looked to your sink, seeing no dishes in the rack that were clean or dirty ones waiting to be done. Eyes back on you, he frowned. “I’m starving, I am going to order some food. Do you want anything?” Maybe you were just hungry.

You shook your head no as he searched through your takeout menus you had stuck to the fridge, finding the most crumpled one as an indicator that you called them most. He waltzed into your living room to your phone to call them, sitting on the arm of your couch. He smirked at the pencil scribbles in the menu, stars next to the meals you liked the best while waiting for them to pick up. He glanced at you again, seeing your stiffness as he was using your phone. This phone call you were waiting on must be important. “I’ll be quick, I promise. Could eat a horse right now.” He winked, watching your shoulders drop and turn away from him. He watched you pace in the kitchen for a moment before going into your bathroom and shutting the door quickly. 

He was concerned.

You listened to how he ordered all your favorite dishes and a few more through the bathroom door, loading up his bill to be much higher than usual. You could feel your stomach grumbling when the delivery man came, finally out in the common living area pretending to clean as Javier watched you from your couch. The sounds of your stomach made Peña look at you and smile like he had won something. You didn’t understand this game he was playing.

You sat on the side of the couch that was close to the phone and stared blankly at the tv show that Peña had put on. He poured you a drink, topping it up with tequila every chance he got and you gave little complaint. He watched you from the corner of his eye, seeing you take slow bites and looking to the phone every few minutes. 

Maybe you were drinking enough now that he could prod. “Who are you waiting on calling you cariño?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, fork halfway to your mouth before setting it back down. “I’m waiting for my mom to call me back.” You said sheepishly.

He watched you for another second, waiting for you to continue. When you didn’t, he set his own plate down and turned his body toward yours. “Did you talk with her already today?” Something was clearly wrong. He had never seen you like this, never known you to be shy about what you were doing. You were typically so confident, and to watch you pull in to yourself made him nervous. 

You nodded, looking over to see his chest facing you, shirt unbuttoned with a tank underneath, jeans looser than usual and socks scrunched down around his ankles. His hair wasn’t a mess, but ungelled. He looked relaxed in your home. “She, uh, checks in on me sometimes but I had called her first and…my dad didn’t like that.” you whispered, not wanting to make eye contact with him and keeping your stare on the hollow between his collarbones. 

He noticed your look, hoping he wasn’t making you uncomfortable. He reached for your arm, gently grabbing your wrist and sliding them to your fingers. “Why doesn’t he like that, mi luz.”

He felt his heart stop at the first sign of your eyes pooling with tears. You tried blinking them back, making the mistake of glancing up to his eyes and seeing the pity in them. You hated that. “He thinks I’ll try to convince her to leave again, and he’s not wrong.” You sniffle, looking down at your connected hands. “But I can’t do much from here.” 

Javier was trying to control his breathing so as to not show that he was upset for you. He had a feeling that you didn’t want that, and that you needed someone to have a level head asking you questions. “What did he do when he found out you were on the other end of the phone?”

You squeezed his hand, chuckling to yourself. “He started yelling, but Mom ran away before I could hear too much. She knows I don’t handle it well but I heard him break a few dishes…” you pulled away from him, reaching for the glass of tequila he had poured you and downing it in one go. “She will call me back when he has either left or fallen asleep so I have to wait for it.”

Peña sighed, leaning into your couch and watching you fidget, down the alcohol, and glance at the phone again. Maybe it was the whiskey, but he felt like he could ask you more questions than usual. “How did you get her to leave the first time?”

You paused, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Probably the fact that he punched me so hard I had bruises on my ribs and a black eye. But even that didn’t stop her from going back to him once I took this job.” You sounded spiteful, almost spitting the answer at him. 

He felt rage boil beneath his skin at the idea that you had endured that. But he continued his questions. “How long has that been going on?” He was trying to keep his hands to himself. You pulled away from him for a reason, and he didn’t want to cross your boundaries. 

“Since I could talk back, I guess.” you sighed, leaning farther into the couch and looking at the ceiling. Peña could be your therapist today, you supposed. “I don’t handle yelling that well.”

His rage paused long enough to think back to how you had yelled at him in the archives on one of the first days he worked with you. The minute he was out of the room he could hear you sobbing to Murphy about something. He had raised his voice first, clenching on to your desk like he was going to throw it. Had he really done that? To you? His rage subsided to guilt at the thought he had caused you discomfort so soon after dealing with your mom returning to your dad. Before he could stop himself, he reached a hand out to you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, tilting your head into his hand slightly. “It’s not your fault, Peña. I just have to wait it out, and hope that she will step away again when she is brave enough.” You inhaled deeply, looking at him again. “I can only do so much, but she’s my mom and I love her.”

He sighed, wanting to pull you to him when your phone rang making you both freeze. Your eyes widened, feeling your stomach turn and wishing you hadn’t eaten what Peña ordered, no matter how starving you were. With a shaky hand you picked up the line, immediately hearing your mother’s struggling breath on the other end. “Ma?”

“Hey sweetie.” She panted, voice small and quiet. “Sorry about hanging up, I, uh–your father just had a bad day at work.”

“Are you alright?” Panic was prominent in your voice, glancing over to Peña who sat still beside you. 

“Oh yes, of course! He wouldn’t touch me.” She coughed, clearing her throat. You weren’t aware but Peña heard the emphasis your mom put on that sentence he wouldn’t touch me and clenched his teeth. “Like I said, just upset about work. No problems here. Anyways, we were talking about your job. How is that going?”

You looked back at Peña, seeing the tension in his jaw at how your mom was brushing it to the side. “It’s okay, Ma. Just organizing and helping the agents.”

“You were always so particular about how you organized! Glad you like it sweetie. Hope you’re not giving anyone trouble?” She pressed, sounding distracted as if she was looking over her shoulder. 

You shut your eyes and sighed. “No, everyone thanks me for how I organize everything. I’ll…I’ll let you go. Thanks for calling me back.”

“No problem sweetie. Let me call you next time alright? Love you.”

As you started to say it back, the line went dead. Your hand was shaking, unable to put down the phone as tears swarmed your vision. She didn’t even wait for you to say it back? Was it really that bad, or was she over speaking with you?

Peña reached around to the phone and gently took it from your grasp and put it on the receiver, immediately wrapping his arms around your front and pulling you into him. You felt tears start to overflow and streak down your face, unable to move away from him and not wanting to do anything but lay down. 

Javier didn’t know what to do beyond holding you, feeling your hiccups, your breaths, your sobs. He shushed you quietly, turning your head to lightly run his fingers through your hair to massage your scalp. “It’s okay baby, she’s alright. You have to believe her right now.”

You shook your head, moving your hands up to your face. You felt embarrassment at your current state but couldn’t stop, covering your eyes to hide some of the shame. “I don’t know what to do.”

He felt his heart break at how defeated you sounded, squeezing you tighter. “You’re alright cariño, just relax with me.” He sighed, finding himself rocking you while you cried, wanting desperately to never see you like this again.

Slowly you calmed,  reaching to push yourself up from Peña’s chest and wipe your eyes. You refused to look at him, reaching back to the food that had been forgotten and stirring your plate around. He watched you, keeping one hand on the small of your back. “I’m okay.” You sniffed, bringing your fork up to your mouth. 

He waited, watching you take two more bites before exhaling through his nose. “Okay cariño, you’re okay.” He said quietly, reaching for his own plate. 

You ate in silence with Peña, watching the television again and cleaning off your plate with another serving being put on it by Javier. He had the inkling that you had a habit of not eating when your mother was supposed to call, and wanted to make sure you were having enough. He watched you, spreading his arms out on the back of your couch as you began to settle again. Your eyes began to feel heavy, the adrenaline and worry tiring you out as you leaned your head back on his forearm. 

Eventually, you fell asleep, leaning toward Javier subconsciously until your head rested on the side of his chest, Peña moving his arm to wrap around you protectively. He looked down at you, feeling his heart soften at the puffiness of your eyes, and swore to himself to never raise his voice at you again.