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#sincerity live brought me so much happiness
alovesreading · 11 months
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just got home and i genuinely cannot believe THAT was my show… i need at least 14 business days to process, thank you very much
i feel like camping was ages ago and it was just last night lollll this whole experience was insane but i would do it again idgaf
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coolemmasulivan2 · 17 days
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The Woman Next Door
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Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: After winning the Dutch Grand Prix, Lando returns home to Monaco, eager to prove his genuine feelings to his neighbor, especially after their bet.
Word Count: 4181
You're my downfall, you're my muse My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues I can't stop singing It's ringing in my head for you
Lando had been your neighbour for nearly two years, a friendly presence in the building. But with you, his charm seemed to intensify. He flirted casually, his eyes sparkling with a playful passion. "You're my type!" He'd always say. Yet, your heart remained unmoved. The women he brought home were a strong contrast to you: tall figures in designer heels, showing their immense beauty. You, however, were a simple person who preferred simplicity over expensive clothing and felt most comfortable in jeans and sneakers.
Lately, his flirtations had intensified. He always ensured you knew he was single and was waiting for you. His promises of making you happy and treating you right were sweet, but you weren't fooled. Deep down, you couldn't deny a flicker of attraction, but you kept it hidden. Lando was a handsome man, but you'd seen enough to know he was more than just a pretty face.
"How was your family?" Emily asked, turning to you as she drove. She'd picked you up from the airport in Nice.
You smiled. "They're fine! It was great to be back home. I missed them."
"You know who else missed you?" Emily teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Who?" You asked, confused.
"Your hot neighbour! I ran into him yesterday at the supermarket and he asked about you."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "Did he?"
"Yeah! He said, 'How's Y/n? I haven't seen her for a while. The building seems quite boring without her.'"
You crossed your arms. "He didn't say that!"
"I'm serious! I told him you were coming back today, so maybe he'll be waiting by your door, ready to confess his feelings. And then... BANG! Happily ever after."
You couldn't help but wince at Emily's over-the-top dramatic gestures. Despite her tendency to go overboard, you couldn't help but love her for it.
"You've been watching too many films."
"You're going to end up together. Mark my words." She replied and you made a gagging sound that made her laugh.
As she dropped you off at your apartment building, you grabbed your luggage and thanked her with a tight hug. You entered the building and pressed the lift button.
As the liftdoors opened, you stepped inside, dragging your luggage behind you. You were admiring your reflection in the mirror when a hand stopped the doors, causing them to reopen.
You turned to see Lando, dressed in a McLaren white vintage t-shirt and black jeans. His curls were perfectly coiffed, and a smirk played on his lips. Like always.
"Look who's back!" Lando's voice filled the cramped lift. "Good to see you."
"Hi, Lando." You replied.
The two of you lived on the top floor, making the lift feel even smaller and slower. "How were the holidays?"
"Fine! Too short." You admitted, the tension palpable. "What about you?"
Lando studied you from head to toe, his gaze lingering on your face. "They were good. Family, friends, good weather. But I'm glad to be back to work." The lift seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. "And happy to see you again."
"Here we go!"
Lando chuckled. "What?"
"You know what! You know that flirting with me isn't going to work. I'm not interested."
"But I am!" He said. You quickly looked away, praying for the elevator doors to open. "I'm very much interested."
"To how many girls have you said that?" You asked, your voice laced with scepticism.
"None, believe it or not." Lando replied, his tone sincere.
As the lift doors opened, you stepped out and fumbled for your keys. Lando leaned against the wall beside you. "What can I do to convince you to go on a date with me?"
You took a deep breath, finally finding your keys. He was starting to make you nervous. "I don't think your fans would like to see you having dinner with a woman."
"That's not a problem for me." He said confidently. "I'll have dinner with whoever I want." As you unlocked your apartment door, he continued, "But if that's the issue, we can have dinner at my place, eat McDonald's in my car, anything to make you comfortable."
You pushed your luggage inside and faced him. "Lando…" You began, your voice soft but firm. "I'm not looking for a one-night stand. I want a relationship. A public relationship. I want to go out with my partner, have dinner, eat ice cream, have meaningful conversations on the balcony. I want trust, and I don't want to worry about being cheated on. I want kids and I don't want to wait until my thirties. Marriage isn't essential, but I want this person to be my last. If you want me to go on a date with you, prove to me that you're that person." Lando listened intently, his expression serious. "Bye, Lando!"
You started to close the door, but Lando's hand quickly stopped it.
"Uh, when was the last time you saw me bring a woman home?"
You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure. "What?"
"I haven't brought anyone home since I told you I liked you. Four months ago! I never told you I was looking for a one-night stand. I've always been open about my past relationships and I've never cheated on anyone. I also want to have a family and I'll convince you to change your mind about marriage." You stared at him, speechless. "But if I have to prove myself, I'm up for the challenge!" He said, winking as stepped away. "Bye, Y/n."
You closed and locked your door, your heart pounding in your chest. Your cheeks were flushed. For the first time, he had left you speechless. You'd always dismissed his flirting as a joke, but now you realized that maybe it was more than that.
Later that night, you invited your friends Maria and Lisa over for dinner and a movie night. You didn't want to be alone with Lando next door, and you needed to talk about it.
"He's so into you!" Lisa exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's the classic boy-next-door story."
You set the popcorn and wine on the coffee table. Maria, already a bit tipsy from dinner, was making the most confident comments you'd ever heard from her.
"Just go on a date with him. He's handsome, rich, and lives next door. What more do you want?"
"I want stability, honesty, and someone who makes me happy and laughs with me." You replied.
"He already does that!" Maria insisted. "He was honest with you, you laugh with him, and I'm sure he'd make you happy, if you know what I mean." She chuckled, and Lisa joined in.
"You're drunk!" You teased.
"I am, but I'm still the wiser one." She retorted. "Why don't you just sleep with him? See how that makes you feel."
Your eyes widened in surprise. "You know I'm not like that. When I'm with someone, it's because I like them."
"But you do like him." Lisa argued.
You rolled your eyes and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom."
Lando was engrossed in a game with Max when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock, surprised by the late hour. He wasn't expecting anyone and it was unusual for someone to just walk into the building and ring his bell.
"Someone's at the door." He told Max, removing his headphones. The doorbell rang again. "Give me a second."
He was taken aback to see your friend, Maria, standing there. Her cheeks flushed and the scent of alcohol was strong.
"Lando, hi!" She slurred.
He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. One of your other friends was watching from your apartment door.
"Hi, Maria! What can I do for you?" Lando asked, his tone polite but curious.
"Quick!" Lisa whispered to Maria.
"Look, I'm going to the point. Y/n wants to go on a date with you, but she's afraid you only want to get in her pants." Maria blurted out.
Lando crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Is that so? Does she know you're doing this?"
You were nowhere to be seen, and he couldn't believe you'd ask your friends to do something like that.
"Of course not! But we're her friends and we know she really likes you. She doesn't show it, but she does." Maria insisted.
You dried your hands and glanced in the mirror, adjusting your hair before opening the bathroom door.
To your surprise, the girls were gone from the living room, but you heard giggles coming from the door. As you approached, you realized what was happening.
"So, about the date…" You pushed past Lisa, finding Maria deep in conversation with Lando.
You quickly stepped out and grabbed Maria's hand. "What are you doing?" You were panicking.
"I'm helping you!" She whispered, but everyone could still hear her.
"You're not. Come on!" You started walking her back to your apartment, but Lando stopped you by gently grabbing Maria's wrist.
"You can't take her now. She was about to tell me what I need to do to convince you to go on a date with me." He said, smirking. You resisted the urge to slap the smirk off his face.
"She's drunk. She doesn't know what she's talking about." You argued.
"She clearly does." Lando insisted.
Maria nodded in agreement. "Yes, I do. Lando, you just have to win."
You and Lando looked at her, each holding one of her wrists.
"What?" You asked.
"She'll go on a date with you if you win the next race." Maria announced.
Lando smirked and looked at you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker. "We have a deal!"
"No, we don't!" You said, but no one seemed to be listening.
Maria extended her hand for Lando to shake. "Deal! You better win, because I won't be able to help you again." She winked and went inside your apartment.
You looked at Lando, your arms crossed. "That's not going to happen, you know that right?"
"Why? Are you afraid I'll win?" He challenged.
"No!" You replied.
"So, let's do it. If I win, you go on a date with me--"
"And if you lose, you'll stop asking me to go on a date with me!" You added. Lando stood still, considering. "What? Are you afraid you'll lose?"
After a moment, Lando extended his hand. "Fine!" You grabbed his hand and shook it.
The weekend arrived sooner than you'd expected. Lando had qualified P1, making you question your decision to agree to the bet. You were a Mercedes fan, but deep down, were you rooting for McLaren? It was great to see him win again, but was this really the best time to root for him?
You sat on Emily's sofa between Lisa and her dog, Zeus, watching the race. You wore your Mercedes cap, while Lisa and Maria sported their Ferrari t-shirt. Neither of your friends was a McLaren fan, but today they couldn't stop shouting the name of the British driver.
"Oh my god, he's going to win!" Lisa exclaimed.
"Don't jinx it." Emily replied, slapping her arm.
You slumped on the sofa, unable to say anything. Only when the race ended did you let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding. He had won the Dutch Grand Prix. He had actually won.
Your friends jumped in the air, celebrating his victory. You ran your hands through your hair.
"Guess who's going on a date with a hot British driver!" Lisa mocked, pulling you up from the sofa.
"You are!" Emily repeated, jumping around you.
An hour later, you were walking home alone. The Monaco weather was pleasant, and the streets were bustling with people.
As you arrived at the building, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out to see a message from Lando.
Lando: Hope you're free tomorrow night! I can't wait for our date.
Fuck, you mumbled to yourself.
On Monday, you left the apartment earlier than usual. The night before, Lando had knocked on your door, hoping to talk to you, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer. The next day, you woke up an hour earlier and left for work, hoping to avoid him on your way out. But the universe had other plans.
As you were leaving the building, you bumped into Lando, who had been out for a run.
He chuckled. "Leaving earlier to ignore me?"
You cleared your throat. "No, I just have a big project going on… and have to go earlier."
"Okay." He said, clearly not believing you. "So, I hope you're excited for tonight."
"I don't-- I don't think I have time tonight." You stammered.
"Well, I already reserved our table, and I don't think you'd back out of a bet. So, I'll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something orange if you have it." He whispered in your ear before walking away.
You'd been thinking about Lando all day, your mind racing with anticipation and nerves.
Upon returning home, you immediately took a long shower and emptied your closet to find the perfect outfit. A nice orange summer dress caught your eye. You couldn't remember the last time you'd worn it, but you recalled how flattering it was with your tan.
When you put it on, it looked even better than you remembered. However, doubts crept into your mind. What if he just wanted to get in your pants? What if this was all a joke to him?
Lando knocked on your door at 7 pm sharp, and a few seconds later, you opened it. Lando struggled to contain his astonishment at your appearance.
You were wearing a cute red dress and heels. Your long hair was wavy and you looked stunning. You always looked amazing, but tonight there was a special glow about you. It was a shame you weren't wearing orange.
"Wow!" He said, taking in your appearance. "You look... beautiful."
You blushed and looked away, trying to hide it. "Thank you." You whispered.
You closed your apartment door, and Lando called for the lift. The ride to the garage was silent, surprising you that Lando hadn't said anything flirty or teased you.
He guided you towards his Lamborghini Urus, and you muttered a silent thank-you that he chose the Urus. Of all his cars, it was the most "normal" on the streets of Monaco.
As you left the garage, you broke the silence. "Where are we going?" You asked over the soft music of the radio.
Lando glanced at you. He looked good in his black pants and white shirt. You loved a man in a white shirt.
"It's a surprise."
"I hate surprises!" You said.
Lando laughed. "You hate surprises or you hate my surprises?"
You looked away. "Look at the road, Lando."
After a minute or two, Lando spoke again. "You look really beautiful."
Once again, you blushed. Thankfully, it was starting to get dark. "You already said that."
He stopped at a red light, gazing intensely at you. "And if you allow me, I would say that to you every single day." For a moment, his intense gaze made your legs feel like jelly.
The tension was broken only by a car honking behind you. Lando raised his hand in apology and pulled away. Three minutes later, he pulled up at the marina.
"I agreed to a date with you, not to run off." He said, getting out of the car.
You unbuckled your seatbelt and Lando opened your door. He gently placed his hand on your back, barely touching it, and guided you towards a large yacht named Aurora.
"It's from a friend of mine." Lando said as he pulled you towards the yacht deck. "He named it after his baby daughter. He let me borrow it for a few hours." Your mouth gaped open in surprise at the sight of the table for two, beautifully set with roses and candles. "I thought you'd be more comfortable alone." He explained. "Without the prying eyes of strangers or paparazzi."
Once again, he'd left you speechless. The candlelight, the city view, the soft music, and the sound of the water hitting the yacht created breathtaking scenery.
"I didn't picture you as the romantic type." You said.
Lando put his hands in his pockets and looked at you. "I can be romantic… when I have to." You didn't respond, just stared at him. He had two buttons undone, revealing the tan of his chest and the necklace he wore. "Let's sit?" He suggested and you nodded.
He pulled out your chair, demonstrating his gentlemanly side. He sat down opposite you, and a moment later, a man in a black suit approached with a bottle of wine.
The man poured the wine for the two of you. You could tell it was a very expensive wine just by looking at the bottle.
"Cheers!" Lando said, raising his glass. You clinked your glass with his and took a sip. It was delicious. "Do you like it?"
You nodded. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"
Lando chuckled. "Far from it. I want you to stay sober and experience firsthand how great of a date I can create for you."
"You're really taking this seriously!"
"When I like someone, I always take things seriously." He said, his face turning serious. "I fight for what I want. And it's no lie that I want you."
You swallowed hard, trying to hide your emotions. Before you could respond, the food arrived. It was a pepperoni pizza for you and a prosciutto one for Lando.
"How-- how did you know--?"
Lando smiled. "You order a lot of pizzas. Like… a lot. So one day, I stopped the delivery guy and asked him what you had ordered. He said you always ordered the same one."
You tried to suppress a laugh at his silliness. "Not creepy at all." You said sarcastically.
Lando laughed. "I know, I know. But I wanted to do something nice for you."
You kept on talking and eating, and you both laughed a lot. You had to admit that you had never felt so comfortable with someone before. After you finished eating, Lando and you walked to the car.
"I'll take you home." he said. He turned on the car but paused. "Unless you don't want to go home yet." For a moment, he seemed shy, which was unlike him, at least around you.
You thought for a moment. "I don't know..." It surprised you that you were considering spending more time with him than necessary. "I'm not going home with you if that's what you're thinking."
Lando laughed. "Well, I guess I'll have to call you an Uber if you're not going home with me. Like, to the same building." You blushed and let out a sigh. He loved teasing you. "Do you trust me?"
You gave him a side look. "No!"
"Wow, that was brutal. Let me rephrase the question: Can I take you somewhere, please?"
You hesitated, but eventually nodded your head.
Lando drove to the top of the hill, a spot he liked to visit when everything felt overwhelming. The view was breathtaking. Monaco looked beautiful during the day, but it was at night when the city truly took your breath away. He parked the car, and you both stepped out.
"This is beautiful." You said, looking at the view.
"It is. But it's not as beautiful as you," Lando replied. You blushed and looked away. You'd never blushed so much in your life.
You sat down on the bench and Lando joined you. "What do you really want from me?" You asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
"What do you mean?" He replied.
"I'm not stupid, Lando. You're an F1 driver. You're young and handsome. You could have anyone you wanted."
"But I want you!" He smiled. "You're smart, funny, and incredibly beautiful. And you're different from the women I've dated in the past. You're genuine. Like I've already told you, I like you. A lot."
You looked at him, your heart filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I don't know, Lando."
He squeezed your hand gently. "I understand that I'm not the easiest guy to be in a relationship with, but I'm willing to take things slowly. I just want you to know how I feel." The two of you sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. "Do you want to go back?" Lando asked after a while.
You nodded. "I think it's time."
As you drove back down the hill, you couldn't shake the feeling that something special was happening between you and Lando. You were excited, but also a little nervous.
When you arrived at your apartment building, Lando parked the car in the garage, but neither of you made a move to step out. "Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it." You said.
He smiled. "I'm glad you agreed."
"Well, I had no choice, remember?"
"Yeah. Remember me to thank Maria for the bet." He laughed, and you joined him.
"Yeah, yeah." After a while, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was a sweet kiss, and Lando closed his eyes as he felt your lips against his face.
As you pulled away, Lando hesitated, but after a second, he cupped your face and gently kissed you on the lips. Your heart raced, and you closed your eyes, quickly kissing him back and tangling your hand in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours. His touch was gentle, and you felt a warmth spread through you.
When you pulled away, you were both breathless. You looked at each other, your eyes filled with love and desire. "I've been wanting to do that, for a very long time." He said.
You looked into his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "To how many girls have you said that?" You teased him.
He looked at your lips. "None. And if you let me, you're going to be the only one." He said and he couldn't help but smile.
You smiled back. You couldn't help but think that your life had just taken a turn for the better. And so did Lando. Finally, he got the girl. The woman next door.
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spencerreidsreads · 2 months
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What am I going to do with you?
Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader
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Summary: You and Aaron share a cute moment in the kitchen
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 850 (just a short little one)
*based on THIS request*
AN: Just a short request today. I hope you enjoy! :)
“Ow ow ow”
Your moans of pain are the first thing Aaron hears when he walks through the door of your shared apartment after a long day at work.
As he shuffles further into your living space, he notices the smell of his favourite home cooked food and hears the sound of water running.
He approaches the kitchen where he heard you curse in pain and he sees you bent over the sink, holding your left index finger in your right hand and holding it under the stream of water of the tap.
You hadn’t noticed him yet, he takes a look around the kitchen and sees a variety of foods dotted around the counters. You had been preparing dinner for the pair of you.
“You ok sweetheart?” Aaron asks with sincerity in his voice. He knew based off of your facial expressions that you weren’t injured too badly. But Aaron doesn’t like seeing you in any pain whatsoever, no matter how big or small. So he can’t help but be concerned.
You turn around in surprise, having not heard him enter the apartment. A small smile makes its way onto your face, hiding the slight grimace you previously wore.
“I burned my finger on the pan” you exclaimed, inspecting the barley there burn on your finger.
Aaron walks over, gently prying your finger out of your other hand and placing it within his own. He lowered down to your height and squinted his eyes slightly to get a good look at your finger. It was red and he could tell it would be painful, but nothing too bad. And not much could really be done about it, running it under the tap and being gentle with it would work just fine.
He brought your hand up to his mouth, placing a slight kiss just below the burn, not wanting to hurt you more by touching it.
“Again?” he asked cheekily. This wasn’t the first time Aaron has caught you cursing to yourself over a kitchen based injury, you’ve burnt yourself several times. You’re simply just clumsy in the kitchen.
“It’s not my fault the stupid pans are too hot” you respond with a slight pout on your face, not liking being called out for your clumsiness.
Aaron laughs lightly at this, he thinks you’re adorable. Clumsy, but adorable.
He brings you into a tight embrace, both from having missed you whilst he worked today, and to show he meant no harm with his teasing.
Aaron slowly rocked you both side to side as he held one hand around your lower back, and the other gently stroking your hair on the back of your head.
After a short moment of indulging in you, he pulled back and looked lovingly into your eyes.
“What am I going to do with you?” he sighed teasingly, placing a kiss on your forehead.
“Maybe you can do the cooking for the rest of the week. I’m too injured to do anymore” you dramatically reply as you hold up your ‘injured’ finger, a smirk on your face.
“Oh of course, honey. I couldn’t possibly expect you to carry on with such an injury. Why don’t you go sit down while I finish plating up the food?” He questions, playing along with your dramatics.
You eagerly nod your head and rush to sit at the table. Aaron watches you go, his heart filled with so much love for you.
Once the food is all plated up he sets everything down on the table and sits to join you.
“Thank you for dinner sweetheart, everything looks great” Aaron tells you.
“You’re welcome” you respond. “I missed you”
“I missed you too. But I’m home now and should have the weekend off, so you have me all to yourself for a couple days.” Aaron is truly happy about this, he values every single minute he gets to spend with you. An entire weekend will be bliss. “What do you wanna do over the weekend?”
You thought about it for a second, there was plenty you had been wanting to do with Aaron for a while. Date nights out, museum visits and more. But honestly, you just wanted this weekend to be you and him with no disturbances. And nothing sounded better than staying in all weekend, with no one but each other. Cosy mornings and soft touches, movies and takeout, that sounded like bliss.
“Well… since I’m so terribly injured…”
You once again showed the burn on your finger (that had already practically disappeared)
…”I think we’ll have to stay in and watch movies and eat takeout all weekend”
Aaron truly couldn’t think of anything better. God he loved you so much.
“That sounds perfect, though I guess I’ll have to nurse you back to full health” he suggested with an eyebrow raise and a smirk.
You knew his suggestive intentions with that comment. He was going to take good care of you.
You smiled back, both of your eyes beginning to gloss over with lust.
This was going to be a fun weekend.
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sl-vega · 3 months
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✮⋆。 MEMORIES OF YOU
pairings: Itoshi Sae, Itoshi Rin, x [FEM!] Reader
genre: fluff, oneshot(s), drabble/imagines, established relationship (for some), implied angst if you squint (?), first love, post-u 20 arc, canon compliant
synopsis: in which their friends stumble across photos of you, their first, and only love
CW/additional tags: mild language, potententially ooc, Google translated Spanish in sae's part, English = Japanese in this, might make more scenarios with other characters if people request it
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ITOSHI SAE
Sae was slumped across the cushions of his couch as Shidou rummaged through some of his storage boxes.
The other boy had been rather insistent on coming over to his new appartement, and helping him properly move all his stuff into his new living space.
"So does this mean I can finally move in with you?~"
"Keep dreaming."
Shidou pouted, giving Sae uncharacteristically begging eyes, almost like a sad lost puppy, naturally he didn't fall for this and settled for returning his pathetic look with his signature cold glare.
He simply gave him a sickeningly sweet smile in return, and continued taking objects out of the boxes, among the possessions were a lamp, a few photo frames, and an album.
Ryusei's eyes widened in surprise as his eyes came into contact with the book.
"Oh, what do we have here?"
Shidou said with a slight lilt in his voice clearly intrigued. Sae lifted his head from his phone to see what Shidou was doing, surely if something of his managed to pique the interest of Shidou's filthy mind, it would probably be in his best interests to throw it out-
Is what Sae would've said before he spotted the photo album in the taller boy's hands, Shidou fingers gingerly opening the front cover.
Sae reacted before he could even think.
"Put it down."
His voice is cold and sharp, not threatening, more defensive-scared almost, if he was even capable of fear that is.
Shidou's eyes widened momentarily at Sae's reaction before his face shifted back to his usual shit eating grin.
"Why Itoshi? Got some dirty photos you don't want me seeing? I promise I won't tell y'know."
Sae rolled his eyes and grabbed the album out of the blonde's hands.
"They aren't dirty, for your information."
He paused, as he looked at the cover of the book, dust was collecting on it, and there were a few marker stains that he couldn't get off.
"I'd just rather forget about them..."
He muttered, as he gently stroked the spine of the book with his thumb.
"Why'd you keep it then? You seem awfully attached to it."
Shidou's voice dropped lower and took a momentarily more serious tone before switching back to his flamboyant and teasing demeanor.
"I'm kinda jealous of it~."
Sae rolled his eyes, more playfully this time. He opened the book-making a point to hide the rest of the pages from Shidou's view-and took out a single photograph and handed it to him.
It was a photo of Sae and you. He didn't talk about you much, but he maybe he should change that.
"You clearly won't stop bothering me about it."
He waved the piece of paper before Shidou prompty snatched it and eyed it carefully, his eyes widening.
It was a photo of the two of you by some beach in Spain, hands interlocked, and a rare smile on a younger Sae's face. You were wearing a white sundress with a hat as you ran across the shoreline, taking Sae right along with you as the two of you stumbled across the sand together.
He remembered that day crystal clear, you brought a Polaroid camera with you and you got one of the locals to take the photograph for you. You had forced him to take a break from constant training, and before he knew it. He was far from Madrid in that moment, just you, him, and the ocean.
Shidou's eyes flickered with a brief moment of sincerity, Sae looked genuinely happy in the photo.
"And here I thought I actually had a chance with you."
Sae blushed, yet another look that Shidou wasn't used to seeing on him.
"We aren't-She wasn't-"
He stuttered, unable to express the nature of his relationship with you. Sure he had thoughts, but he never acted on them, which he regretted.
"Aww, so Mr. Itoshi Sae had an unrequited crush back in Spain? How tragic."
Shidou teased as he fidgeted with the sides of the photograph still in his hand.
"It wasn't unrequited."
Sae replied, quicker than he should have.
Shidou quirked a brow in response.
"Care to elaborate?"
Sae sighed, memories of you flooding back into his brain. Repressed feelings that he had long since left for time to slowly erode, yet a single reminder brought them all back.
"We... ran into each other a lot back when I was still in Spain."
He trailed off, recalling when you first interacted.
Sae was around fifteen when he first met you, he was at a cafe in the city, when he was on an annoyingly mandated week long break, issued by the heads of Real Madrid themselves. It just happened to align with the holiday of your school, and the cafe was a pretty popular spot among the locals. It was crowded, with students and several other adults given the day off. From what Sae remembered, you didn't come with the intention of being with a friend, but rather to spend time alone, it was rather difficult though with how many people were currently in the cafe. So before he knew it, a stranger-albeit a very pretty one-had sat right next to him, drink in hand. You only realized you were sitting next to him after you had actually made yourself uncomfortable. "Oh, lo siento, ¿está bien si me siento aquí? Hay mucha gente aquí…" You seemed to have muttered a quick apology in Spanish, while he had lived here for the past two years, he was ashamed to admit that his fluency in this country's native tongue was rather rusty. He had mainly prioritized learning all the needed terminology for soccer and for any interviews, but he could tell that you were apologizing, and probably asked him if you could sit with him. He tried to muster together a coherent response "Está bien... no me importa...?" He trailed off, unsure if what he said was right, or if you could even understand him with his heavy Japanese accent. Your eyes blinked in surprise, maybe he completely butchered that without knowing. Then your eyes widened in surprise for a moment, almost as if you just pieced together something about him. "Ay dios mio! You're Itoshi Sae! I knew you looked familiar!" You responded, in Japanese this time, almost as if it was second nature to you. "You speak Japanese?" It was more of a statement rather than a question, he sounded impressed, it had been a long time since he's actually been able to converse with someone else in his own language. You nodded, eyes sparkling, still clearly hung up on his identity. "I took some classes online, sorry if I'm hard to understand." You weren't hard to understand at all, sure, it was tinged with a slight accent, but if anything that just added to your charm. "I'm (Y/N), huge fan." You extended your hand to him, a bright smile adorning your already beautiful face. He took your hand and shook it. "Sae." He responded, his usual nonchalant tone fading. "You already know that though..." Was he blushing? You giggled at his sudden bashfulness, your laughter was a sweet melodic sound, it was almost embarrassing of how much it affected him. "You know, I'd thought you'd be a lot colder in person, you're actually really sweet huh?" You laughed once more, and this time, Sae actually cracked a grin.
Sae finished his story to Shidou, his friend had listened intently.
"Aww, so you were whipped from the start?~"
Shidou teased, smirking at him.
"Care to share more? I'd love to learn more
He asked, a slightly playful lilt to his voice.
"If you score another hat trick next time I might just tell you."
Sae responded, his playful tone contrasting his nonchalant demeanor. Shidou smirked, clearly pleased by the offer.
"And will you let me move in?~"
"Maybe."
Sae smiled, gentle and hidden. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. After all, it would give him an excuse to talk about you once more.
"If you score another hat trick next time I might just tell you."
Shidou smirked, clearly pleased by the offer.
"And will you let me move in?~"
"Maybe."
Sae smiled, gentle and hidden. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. After all, it would give him an excuse to talk about you once more.
BONUS; TRANSLATIONS (potentially inaccurate)
"Oh, lo siento, ¿está bien si me siento aquí? Hay mucha gente aquí…"
╰┈➤ "Oh, I'm sorry, is it okay if I sit with you? It's super crowded in here..."
"Está bien... no me importa...?"
╰┈➤ "It's okay...I don't mind..?
"Ay dios mio!
╰┈➤ "Oh my God!"
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ITOSHI RIN
"Bachira! I swear to God if Rin kills us because of this-"
"Lighten up Isagi! He's not gonna catch us."
It was a miracle that Rin had already agreed to Isagi and Bachira coming over to his place, though it was more because his mom was constantly nagging him about "needing more friends" or "being more social with the rest of the boys from Blue Lock"
Of course Bachira took this as an opportunity to snoop around Rin's room.
"If we find anything too private, we'll just put it right back and pretend we never saw it, simple as that."
Isagi sighed, bemoaning their current actions against their teammate's own personal life.
"You make it sound like Rin of all people would actually have something incriminating to hide."
Bachira shot him an unimpressed look.
"Are we talking about the same Rin? I'm like 90% sure the guy has some kind of criminal record, I wouldn't be surprised if he had a dead body hiding around in here somewhere..."
He continued looking around the room, glancing at crooks and small gaps in-between shelves as if some hidden treasure was stuck in them.
"Bachira you aren't going to find anything-"
Isagi was promptly cut off by Bachira, who in fact, found something.
A photograph taped to the side of Rin's closet, it seemed a little old, and dusty, but it looked well taken care of.
"Rin never striked me as the sentimental type..."
Bachira flipped the photo back and fourth in his hands before actually focusing on what the picture itself was holding.
Of course before he could actually view the photo himself, it was quickly snatched from him.
Rin was back, and he gave Bachira his signature cold glare, that probably translated into "One more wrong move and I'm throwing you off a cliff in your fucking sleep." or some worse same intentioned threat that Rin would probably use.
"What were the two of you doing?"
Rin asked in a condescending, accusing tone, and rightfully so.
"Rin, we're sorry-"
Isagi was about to apologize, but then Bachira fell to the floor, gripped the younger Itoshi's leg and wailed out a far more incoherent apology than his friend.
"I'm sorry Rin-chan! I promise I won't do it again!"
He was wailing at this point, a string of even more whiny apologies coming from him.
Rin shook Bachira off his leg and sighed.
"It's fine..."
He murmured as he trailed off, his attention completely stolen by the photograph he had just took back.
It was a picture of the two of you at the beach, he was around fourteen in this photo, it probably took place during the final months of his last year at middle school. The two of you had gone on a stroll by the ocean earlier before finding a resting spot nearby. You had pulled out a camera out of nowhere and snapped the photo almost without Rin notcing. You were flashing a big smile at the camera, while Rin's face was nuzzled into your neck, clearly camera shy. If you looked closely however, you could spot the blush slowly creeping up his cheeks.
Without noticing, Bachira had gotten a little too close for Rin's comfort. The older boy's head rested on his shoulder as he ogled the picture alongside him.
"Is she your girlfriend or somethin'?"
Rin shoved Bachira off his shoulder, the other boy laughed as he stumbled away.
"Shut up... she's just a friend."
"I dunno, the two of you look awfully cozy in that photo~"
If only you saw the others...
Rin had held on to the photo for longer than he would like to admit, the two of you hadn't talked for a while, especially after graduation.
But now that his annoying lukewarm teammates had decided to scour around his room for no reason, Rin was met with a wave of memories.
All of which were about you.
The most prominent memory he had of you was the day of middle school graduation.
The cherry blossoms were in bloom, and the third years were about to assemble in the auditorium for the farewell ceremony. Several of Rin's classmates were gushing about graduation, and how they would miss each other, some were already planning methods of communication after moving on to high school. Another hot topic of conversation among his classmates (mainly the girls) was the topic of button giving. In Japan, a guy giving the second button of his uniform to a girl on the day of graduation was essentially a love confession, Rin thought that the tradition was rather stupid. For one thing, he had no time for romance when he was trying to become the best in the world, nor did he have any interest in the subject. Or as he would say 'everyone here is way too lukewarm for my tastes' Well, that's what he would have said if he wasn't so preoccupied with you, but here he was, just outside of the auditorium, fidgeting with his uniform trying to get a button off. Normally the girl would have to ask the guy for the button, but Rin was never one for tradition-then again he was already going along with this stupid love confession so there was a first time for everything-and it didn't look like you were going to talk to him anytime soon, you were constantly hanging around with your friends for most of the day, so he never found the right time. So he didn't know what came over him when he dragged you aside in some secluded area of the courtyard, all his courage had been used up in that very moment because of that moment, he had been reduced to a blushing and bashful mess. "What did you need me for RIn?" You asked with curious doe eyes, clearly oblivious to the fact that there was a button missing from his uniform. Rin gave you a blank stare for a few minutes, taking in your appearance. Your hair was adorned with several hair pins, all engraved with special patterns and decorated with pretty charms. You were wearing make up today, not super noticeable, but noticeable enough for it to enhance your natural beauty. "Rin?" You called his name, snapping him out of his thoughts. Oh right, he was supposed to give you the buttton "Can I have your hand for a second..?" He asked bashfully, you extended your hand to his, this time, you were blushing as well. You muttered a quick 'sure' as you avoided eye contact with him. He gently dropped the button into your hands. "I-I wanted you to have this." This time, Rin was looking directly into your eyes, the same cold teal that always seemed to have no light behind them, but this time, they were filled with warmth and sincerity. The two of you stood in silence for a few more moments, before you heard the teachers calling you and the rest of the third years over for the ceremony. As Rin walked into the auditorium with the rest of his classmates, one of his teammates from the soccer team leaned down and whispered something in his ear. "So who's the lucky lady Itoshi?" He turned to his friend, noticing that his button was missing too. Rin simply shrugged, feigning nonchalance and muttered; "Wouldn't you like to know?" That graduation photo captured a very rare smile from him.
Bachira accidentally knocking something over promptly snapped Rin out of his nostalgia.
"Oh my God you're actually smiling in this photo?!"
Bachira waved Rin's middle school grad photo in his face, clearly shocked by the notion that the younger Itoshi could actually feel happiness.
Suddenly, Rin's mother came into his room.
"I know, it's one of the few photos I have of him that actually feature him smiling."
She sighed.
"Anyways, I just made dinner in case you boys are hungry."
Mrs. Itoshi smiled at the boys.
"And maybe you could tell them all about (Y/N) hm?"
Rin's face grew very hot all of a sudden.
God, he was in for it now...
634 notes · View notes
edenesth · 8 months
Text
The Way to His Heart [5]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 4 | Fic Masterlist | Part 6
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"She's severely malnourished, and the injuries on her body tell us that she's undergone quite the abuse, seemingly for years. But I assume you already deduced that much, yes?" Yunho stated as he turned to your husband.
Seonghwa nodded grimly, "Yes, unfortunately. Is there anything you can do to help with all the marks?"
"Given the lack of proper treatment for so long, most of her wounds have only worsened, resulting in permanent scars from various infections. I'll do my best to treat as much as I can, but please understand that I won't be able to eliminate most of these scars." The physician explained, not wanting to give the general any false hope of restoring your skin back to its original form.
Thankfully, Seonghwa wasn't naturally inclined to optimism, and he didn't care to entertain the idea of a miracle. He sighed, "I understand, Yunho. It doesn't matter to me if the scars remain, just... make all the pain go away for her. That's all that matters."
Though possibly surprised, Yunho didn't reveal it in his expression. That might have been the sweetest sentiment he had ever heard from the general. He nodded, "Very well. I'll need a few tools and herbs to prepare her tonic and ointment. Should I stay in the usual quarters until my work is complete?"
Eager to see her mistress recover quickly, the head maid was ready for action. She stood up as soon as her master addressed her, "Eunsook, you know what to do. Organise a team of servants to assist Physician Jung with everything he requires and prepare his usual accommodation."
Without having to be told twice, she swiftly moved to leave Seonghwa's room, "Yes, master! Please come with me, Physician Jung." The general watched as everyone exited his private quarters, leaving him alone with you.
Bringing a chair beside the bed, he seated himself next to you and mustered the courage to hold your hand. Gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, he felt a pang in his heart, realising that it was far from how the hand of someone your age should be – smooth and flawless. Instead, it bore the marks of what he could only imagine as endless pain.
Reflecting on the unfounded accusations he had hurled at you after your sincere expression of gratitude during dinner, he wished he could turn back time and retract his words, if only it were possible. As if your life hadn't already been hell, he had only made it worse for you.
Suddenly, the notion of you being genuinely happy with The Cold Palace didn't seem so far-fetched. After all, who could fathom the inhumane living conditions you had endured for all those years? However, this realisation brought him no comfort; the fact that your life back in the Jang estate was so bad that you had to express gratitude for being given such a place was heartbreaking.
Seonghwa was jolted from his thoughts when he sensed your weak hand squeezing his. Looking up, he noticed your anguished expression as you cried in your sleep, your voice brokenly uttering, "I'm sorry..."
He felt his heart clench at the sight, prompting him to move and sit closer to you on the bed. Lifting his free hand, he gently wiped away the tears streaming from the corners of your eyes down your cheeks, "Hey, it's alright... You're safe now." He whispered, returning the soft squeeze to your hand.
As if aware of his presence, your eyes snapped open in alarm, and a whimper of fear escaped you as you saw him. For the first time in a long while, the general found no satisfaction in the fear reflected in someone's eyes. You gasped upon realising that the lifeline you were clinging to was him, noticing your hand in his.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried harder when you realised your marks were still fully on display. Pulling your hand away from his, you grasped the sheets around you and clutched them close.
Despite the disappointment he felt at the absence of your hand, he didn't have time to dwell on it with your little panic attack. To ground you, he cupped your face with his hands, "Look at me," and you complied, your trembling eyes meeting his gaze, "Stop apologising and tell me what it is that you're sorry for."
"I-I'm sorry for all this," You gestured miserably to your own body, "I'm hideous. I'm tainted. I'm n-not good enough to be your wife, a-and I never will be. I-I don't deserve happiness... I was foolish to think I could find it h-here... with you."
Shaking his head, he caressed your hollow cheekbones, staring firmly into your eyes, "No, you listen to me. Never think that again. I forbid you from believing you're hideous or tainted or anything ridiculous like that. Whoever dares say you're not good enough to be my wife can go to hell because you're the only one I want. You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I will give you just that. You're not foolish to think that. I'll prove it to you."
Leaving you speechless, Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you before you could muster a response, pulling you close. The sudden warmth felt foreign but good, and you nestled your face into his broad shoulder, allowing yourself to relish the moment.
Am I dreaming? Feels too good to be true.
Marvelling at the luxurious interior of this beautiful room, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was all a product of your imagination. How could any of this be real?
The last memory you had was the general storming angrily into your room and ripping your hanbok open. After seeing you in your truest form, how could he have ended up acting this way towards you? It didn't make sense; he should have been disgusted and hostile. Instead, here he was, seemingly accepting you.
Exhausted from a lifetime of pain, you lacked the energy to question the reality of your situation. Even if it were just a dream, you decided to embrace it and savour the experience. On the other hand, if this was reality, you knew you had the rest of your life to understand his change of heart.
All that really mattered now was that the pain and the suffering stopped. If Seonghwa truly accepts you as his wife, the reason behind it doesn't seem important. You would simply be grateful for his kindness, or perhaps sympathy—whatever it was, you welcomed it wholeheartedly.
So long as there's no more pain.
With that decision made, you set aside the lingering questions in your mind and focused on how comforting it felt to be held in a warm embrace like this. A contented sigh escaped you as you whispered against him, "Thank you, my lord."
He responded by tightening his hold around your frame, gently cradling the back of your head with a hand, "No, don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything to deserve that from you. I've been horrible, the absolute worst. And for that, I'd like to apologise. I'm sorry, my dear. I promise you, I'll make up for it."
When you attempted to voice your protest, he halted you with a knowing shake of his head, "I know I may seem like an angel in comparison to the people who have... done all those horrendous things to you, but I won't lie and say that I'm proud of myself for the way I acted. You're important too, okay? You're the general's wife now, and I want you to remember that. I won't let anyone disrespect you again."
With a grateful nod, tears of relief welled up in your eyes. This transformed version of Seonghwa before you was a stark departure from the one you initially encountered. You didn't think he was capable of being so soft and caring, but you had no complaints; you could certainly get used to this.
"Oh, mistress! You're finally awake!" Eunsook exclaimed, standing at the room entrance with the physician in tow. This caused you and your husband to break eye contact. The general cleared his throat and averted his gaze, a faint blush tinting his cheeks when he realised the two had witnessed your shared intimate moment.
Yunho suppressed his smile and respectfully bowed at you, "Good day, Lady Park. I'm Physician Jung; it's nice to properly meet you." Blinking, you struggled to come up with a response, gaping at his handsome face.
While the elderly woman giggled at your loss of words, Seonghwa was less than amused at your reaction to the doctor's appearance. He scoffed lightly, finding it ridiculous that you were here gazing at another man after he had just poured his heart out to you.
How dare you be unfaithful this soon?
Upon catching the enticing scent of food, your eyes swiftly moved away from Yunho's face. Your face lit up as you finally noticed the bowl of piping hot congee in Eunsook's hands.
"Oh dear, you must be famished. With Physician Jung's help, we concocted this healthy meal for you. I know it's not very appetising, with all the medicinal herbs in it, but you must get better before indulging in tastier foods, alright?" She smiled encouragingly at you.
You shook your head as she approached with the bowl, "Not appetising? It already smells and looks better than anything I've ever had. Thank you for the food." You murmured, eagerly waiting as she fed you.
Unbeknownst to you, your innocent response had affected Seonghwa more than you realised, and it also surprised the physician. While Yunho had heard a bit about your situation from the head maid, he wasn't fully aware of the extent of it, and hearing it directly from you was truly heart-wrenching. That definitely explained the severe malnourishment.
The congee was gone within moments and Eunsook couldn't help but coo, "Well done, mistress." You bit your lip shyly, feeling embarrassed for devouring it in such an unladylike manner, but nothing mattered the moment the food touched your lips.
As if on cue, a group of servants arrived with a fresh set of clothes and bath supplies originally intended for you earlier in the morning. Turning toward the two men, the head maid bowed and gestured toward the door, "Master, Physician Jung, if you wouldn't mind stepping out. We shall bathe and change the mistress."
Yunho nodded, "Certainly, I'll be getting back to work then," and immediately excused himself, reassured to know you had finished your first sitting of medicine.
The general stood up from his spot, "Alright, Eunsook. I'll leave her to you for now. Take care of her for me." He said, moving to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. The action caused your eyes to widen, and all the servants internally squealed, shocked to see their master being so affectionate for the first time.
Your heart swelled as you watched him leave, his back suddenly seeming so reliable. It was hard to believe that he was your husband, yours. How lucky were you to be wedded to Park Seonghwa?
"Come, mistress. Let's get you cleaned up."
You observed with intrigue as the servants rushed around to prepare a bath for you, an experience you had never had before. However, as they began to assist in stripping off your clothes, you realised you had forgotten all about the marks on your skin earlier. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you pushed the hands of the servants away and shook your head.
Reassuring you, they withdrew their hands with warm smiles, "It's okay, mistress. Please know we are all on your side; nobody here will disrespect or look down on you. You are now the official wife of General Park, and we will work our hardest to serve you."
The head maid nodded in agreement behind them, their sincerity deeply touching your heart, "Thank you for your kindness." You whispered, finally allowing them to help you out of your hanbok. They handled you with gentleness, and it took you some time to get used to it—finally not being manhandled like you always had been.
After they finished scrubbing you clean, the other maids momentarily left you alone to enjoy the bath, touched by your endearing demeanour—constantly expressing gratitude for every little thing. To them, it felt almost like caring for a child. Exchanging excited glances, none of them could hide their pleasure in having such a sweet mistress.
With your presence, perhaps the general's anger could finally subside, and the estate could experience some peaceful days. If only you knew the hope you had brought with your arrival.
Eunsook lingered in the background, cleaning and tidying up, while you played with the rose petals floating around the bath water. You couldn't recall the last time your life had been so relaxing, so peaceful. Turning to the elderly woman working nearby, you gathered the courage to ask, "This... this isn't a dream, is it?"
Setting down her supplies, she approached you with a motherly smile on her face, "I assure you, mistress, it is not. This is all very real. Perhaps the master's sudden shift in behaviour can be confusing."
She gently held onto your hand, "Trust me, he is actually not such a bad person at all. There's a good reason why all the servants here have been with him for a long time. Though he believes it is simply because of the good pay, it isn't. He just... has a hard time trying to express his feelings. Let's just say master did not exactly grow up living an easy life. He struggles to show his love because he has not been given nearly enough of it while growing up."
That sounds a little like me too.
Giving your hand a soft squeeze, she added, "And now, with you here, it seems we can all hope that things will change for the better, for master and for you, mistress."
"M-me? Better because of... me?" You whispered, returning the squeeze, and she nodded, "Yes, mistress. All because of you. You are our light and our hope. Thank you for coming to us. You're so important to everyone here, you know that? Never let anyone tell you otherwise."
You didn't realise you were crying until you felt a gentle touch as the elderly woman wiped away the tears rolling down your cheeks, assuring you, "No matter what happens, I promise you won't be alone anymore from now on."
Standing in the centre of the room later on, it almost felt like a dream come true as the servants attentively assisted you in getting dressed. For once, you felt genuinely cared for and respected, a stark contrast to your previous experiences at home, where most servants treated you as less than human.
Turning to face the mirror, a gasp escaped you as you gazed at your reflection, "You look beautiful, mistress. Master is going to love it." A servant exclaimed, admiring your natural beauty. Your eyes widened as you took in the pleasant appearance before you, surprised that despite the visibility of your scars, you could look appealing. It appeared that with proper care, hair, and clothing, you could indeed appear somewhat pretty.
I guess all hope is not lost.
"We'll be taking our leave now, mistress." The rest of the maids bowed in a line before you as they finished up. Panic crossed their faces when they saw you about to return their bows, and Eunsook stopped you in time, saying, "Oh dear, mistress! We'll have to work on that. Please remember you do not have to bow to any of the servants here, or anywhere, for the matter."
You nodded, "I'm sorry, I'll remember that next time."
She chuckled and shook her head, "That too, you do not need to apologise to us. We are here to serve you." The maids nodded to signal that the elderly woman was right, smiling encouragingly at you before bowing one last time and leaving to return to their other tasks.
"Now, there's still a bit more time before dinner. What would you like to do until then, mistress?" The head maid asked.
You blinked, realising you didn't know how to answer. You never had the luxury to do as you pleased; all your supposed spare time was spent rotting in your prison cell of a room. What did your stepsisters usually do? Right, make your life hell. That's what.
What do young ladies around your age do?
Suddenly remembering Eunsook's earlier words about having to work on what you should and shouldn't do, you perked up, "I... I wish to learn. I want to be a proper lady, to be a proper wife for the general."
You stared, puzzled, as the elderly woman tried to hide her cheeky grin, "Well, the master's study is full of all sorts of knowledgeable books. Maybe you can find something in there. Would you like to go there now, mistress?"
Finding nothing wrong with the suggestion, you agreed. The next thing you knew, you were left standing alone by the entrance to the study she had been talking about. She had explained that she needed to assist the physician with an important task before hastily disappearing.
Not wanting to be impolite, you knocked on the door and waited for a response, "May I please enter, my lord?" After a moment of silence, you knocked again, only to be met with silence.
Maybe he's not inside.
With a shrug, you cautiously pushed the door open. Your eyes widened when you immediately spotted Seonghwa seated at his desk, deeply engrossed in his reading with a slight furrow of his brows. Despite planning to leave, you found yourself rooted to the spot, admiring how attractive he looked, even when only sitting there.
As if sensing someone watching him, his eyes immediately shot up in alert, only to soften when he realised it was you. Caught off guard, you sputtered and bowed repeatedly, "I-I'm sorry, my lord! I didn't mean to spy on you or anything like that. Eunsook told me I could occupy myself with some books in here until dinner, and I—"
Too busy staring down at your feet, you didn't notice he had been making his way towards you. You gasped when his shoes came into view, looking up to find him right in front of you with a gentle smile on his face, "Relax, I'm not angry. You're welcome to spend time with me; I'd be happy to accompany you."
Looking at you closely now, his heart raced as he realised how stunning you appeared in this natural state, even more so than with a face full of heavy makeup, "You... you look beautiful, by the way." He remarked, watching with admiration as a blush tinted your cheeks when you quietly thanked him.
As you bit your lips shyly, he found it hard to look away, feeling a desire to kiss you that he had never experienced with any woman before, "M-my lord?" You stuttered, feeling flustered by the sudden attention he was paying to your lips.
With a hand outstretched, he cleared his throat and gestured for you to join him, "R-right, let me know what you're looking for. This is no royal library, but I'm sure I'll have whatever you need."
You gulped, shyly placing your hand in his waiting one, "I was hoping to learn more about lady etiquette. I... I want to be a proper lady and wife for you, my lord." His heart melted at that; despite the less-than-warm welcome he had given you, you were still willing to work hard and be better for him.
"Very well, come with me." Tightening his hold on your hand, he gently led you towards the bookshelves lining the side of his study.
As you passed by his desk, you couldn't help but do a double take at the reading material he had been so focused on just earlier. You'd recognise the Jang family crest anywhere.
"Wait, isn't that—"
Before you could inquire about it, Seonghwa was already in the process of tidying up the space and simultaneously putting the book away, "Sorry for the mess. Now, which area of lady etiquette did you want to start with first?" He asked, gesturing to the entire row of books dedicated to the topic.
"O-oh, I haven't really thought about that. I wasn't aware there were so many different areas. Gosh, I have much to learn..." You trailed off, your mind already reeling as you tried to figure out which area would be best to begin with.
He sighed in relief, successfully redirecting the conversation. His heart nearly stopped when he spotted the recognition in your eyes upon seeing your family records. The general didn't want to have to interview you in order to delve into your past; he didn't want you to relive any nightmares. More importantly, he didn't want to worry you by revealing any of the plans he had in store for your family.
« Preview of Part 6 »
Jongho entered his master's study that night, panting and puzzled to find the desk filled with books on... lady etiquette?
"S-sir?"
Seonghwa snapped up immediately, catching the assistant's appalled gaze on your books. He chuckled, "Oh, those are just your mistress' books. She said she wants to learn to be a proper lady and wife... can you believe that?"
Without himself noticing, the general had an almost dreamy look on his face as he smiled, lost in thoughts of you, unaware that he was letting it show on his face, revealing his affection for you.
"I see. I'm sure the mistress will no doubt make you proud with her studies soon." Jongho responded with a knowing grin, pleased to see his master being soft for a change, the intimidating General Park momentarily gone, all because of his wife.
Recalling his aide's purpose for being here this late, Seonghwa quickly turned serious, "Well, have you managed to find anything?"
The assistant immediately straightened up, moving closer to the general and lowering his voice, "I have, sir. With the funds you provided, I hired a private investigator willing to infiltrate the Jang estate. Fortunately, one of the older servants didn't take much to crack; she told him just about everything."
With a clenched fist, your husband asked for confirmation, "Well? Was it her father?"
Nodding, Jongho's expression turned grim, "It was as you assumed, sir. It was him, his wife, his stepdaughters, and even the servants. But there's... more. We've uncovered new information, the minister... he truly is despicable."
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Sorry, this part took a little longer! Happy to report that I'm feeling much better! I was out all day with my family and immediately got to work finalising this as soon as I got home!
Thank you so much for 800+ followers! And as always, thank you for reading and I'm so excited to hear all your thoughts (or even predictions for what's to come😈), I promise I won't spoil anything in my replies! <3
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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lovelyangelxxx · 3 months
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anthophile | various one piece characters x reader
anthophile; (n.) a person who loves flowers
→ they buy you flowers
→ trafalgar law, eustass kid, vinsmoke sanji, roronoa zoro
→ fluff, slight angst, gn reader
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
~ eustass kid: skeleton flowers represent affection and happiness ♡
a rare, mystical flower was perfect for someone who was willing to take the time to understand his dedication to work and stay patient despite his capricious attitude and turbulent life. he believed that skeleton flowers would be the best gift to you. you were just as kind and resilient as these flowers were. flowers that adapt to their environment reminded him of your independence and strength. you were truly the only person who was capable of keeping up with his pirate life and rash personality, adapting and swaying, yet remaining beautiful, loving, and strong all the same. despite not showing his affection much, you’re perfect in his eyes and kid couldn’t imagine a life without someone like you in it.
”thank you for understanding.”
~ trafalgar law: lily of the valleys represent a return to happiness and purity, but are highly toxic ♡
you were a beacon of hope and light in his dark, sorrowful life. the cold surgeon had never looked at anyone until you. you brought back joy and peace into his life which he thought was impossible. law knew that lily of the valleys were the ideal flowers as a gift for you. your purity and light helped him when he refused to open up to the world around him. however, not only were you a ray of hope for him, you were also deadly; having to live in a world with pirates shaped you into a gruesome foe and terrifying figure. he admired that side of you and hopes you never change, nor adapt to the world around you. for he would never want you, the person who brought him happiness, to conform to this ugly, horrid world around you. 
“you make life worth living.”
~ roronoa zoro: gladiolus represent faithfulness, sincerity, and strength of character ♡
zoro believed that a gladiolus would convey his feelings toward you better than he could express with words. zoro has never been a man of many words and is not always the best at expressing emotions, especially his affection. despite his rough personality, he wishes to display his faith and unwavering loyalty to you. not only does he wish to communicate his love, zoro also believes this flower mirrors your strength and unyielding determination. he adores hearing you talk about your passions and wants you to know he admires that about you. although he may fail to use his words, he prays you will stay by his side with this sign of affection. 
“you mean everything to me.”
~ vinsmoke sanji: the queen of the night is said to be a flower descended from the heavens ♡
his dedication to you is unwavering. sanji believes you are an angel who came down from the heavens and blessed the world with your grace and kindness. he decided a queen of the night would be most fitting to present to someone so similar to the title of the flower. given his personality, he loves you with all his heart and can never thank you enough for taking your time to understand him and support him even further. your love has become a gift he feels as if he doesn’t deserve. he concludes that someone as rare and precious as you deserves a flower that blooms only once for a brief time in a lucky person’s lifetime. 
“i’m so lucky to have you.”
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idleoblivion · 2 months
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"The Dismal Story of Our Creation" Malleus Draconia x GN Reader
Spoilers for Book 7!
Synopsis: Malleus has put the island to sleep, but the dream he puts you in is an especially unique one.
Word Count: ~1200 A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent me happy birthday messages! I hope to finish a few more drafts soon to make up for my absence. I loved writing him as a yandere, it just fits him so well to me.
Warnings: Yandere Malleus, captivity? (trapped in a dream), forced kissing
Something wasn’t right.
He’d done it. He overblotted. Putting everyone to sleep, leaving them to their dreams. For their own good, to make them happy. That’s what he had said. 
So why was this your dream? What had happened to you?
You remember catching a glimpse of the unconscious forms of your friends, sleeping under the power of his magic. You remember the fear that washed over you as you expected the same fate. And you remember the satisfied grin he wore as he faced you, and then everything went black.
Darkness surrounds you now. You are stranded in a void, an empty black space. No floor beneath your feet, no walls indicating you might be in some strange room. You hesitantly take a few steps forward, and then in another direction. Still nothing. You are walking through some kind of purgatory, left alone with nothing but an endless darkness and eerie silence.
Until you hear footsteps behind you.
You whip around to see him, uncomfortably close to you. Looming over you, with that same smile as before.
“What…what did you do? Where am I?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.
Malleus’ smile still doesn’t falter as he answers you. “Our home, Child of Man.”
As he speaks, the space around you starts changing. You blink repeatedly as a room starts creating itself from the darkness, walls and furniture forming from the shadows before manifesting as real objects. Everything appears in the same gothic theme you’re familiar with from Diasomnia.
“What do you mean, ‘our home’?”
He tilts his head at you a bit, mirth still palpable in his expression. “I think it’s quite self-explanatory. This is where we will spend the rest of our lives together.” Your head is spinning as you process his words. “Malleus, what are you talking about? I don’t understand, you’re scaring me.”
He frowns immediately at that. He sighs quietly before speaking again. “My apologies, Child of Man. I suppose I’ve yet to explain myself properly to you. Please, fear not. I never would wish you any harm, you should know.”
“Child of Man,” He starts after a deep inhale, “I know this may feel sudden, but I must confess something to you.” He reaches for your hand, and you cautiously allow him to take it. “I…I love you. I care for you so dearly, my Child of Man. You’ve brought life to my life, brought me a kind of joy that I’ve always considered unobtainable for me. I’ve never known someone as kind, brave and sincere as you. I love you, from the bottom of my heart. So much that I don’t know what to do with the feelings you stir in me sometimes.” He grinned softly to himself. “You treat me like no one else does. You seek out my presence yourself, you look at me with fondness in place of fear. You’ve taken over my mind and heart, and I couldn’t do without you anymore.”
“So,” he continues, “I’ve created a place for us, and only us, my love. I’ve put much thought into it, and come to the conclusion that it would be difficult for us to be together in reality. It would be blasphemy for me to attempt to introduce a human as my partner in Briar Valley. As heir to the Draconia lineage and future king, such a thing would never be allowed.” His brow furrowed at the thought. “And on your end, the headmaster is searching for a way to send you back, to separate you from me. There are many obstacles to our love. This is the solution I’ve come up with.” His hand moves to cradle your cheek gently, staring deep into your eyes. It takes great effort for you to not tremble under the weight of his gaze. “There is nothing but us here. No Crowley, no other world to return to, no royal duties or expectations, nothing at all to disturb us. We will hide happily in here forever, where nobody can interfere with us.” You’re shaking now, fear coursing through your veins as you realize the gravity of your situation. You are trapped alone with him, in a space of his creation and control, completely at his mercy. And he’s seemingly decided you won’t be going anywhere.
“M-Malleus, please. I don’t…I don’t want this.” You meekly speak, your voice hardly above a whisper. You’re terrified of rejecting him, but equally afraid of what would happen if you accepted his advance. “I don’t want to be asleep forever. And what about everyone else, my friends-” “Do not speak of them.” His harsh tone cuts you off and makes you flinch. There’s a new darkness to his eyes that makes your legs want to buckle. You avert your eyes from his to avoid it.
“Look at me.” He commands. You don’t comply, too nervous to meet the anger in his expression. He grabs your face roughly and forces you to tilt your head up. “I said, look at me. Do not speak of them again. This place is for us, not them. Your life is meant to be spent with me, not them. Your place in this world is with me, not them. You will not mention them again. I will not allow any others but myself to occupy your thoughts. Do you understand me?”
Tears start welling up in your eyes as you nod slightly, dread heavy in your stomach as the weight of your circumstances only seems to keep increasing.
He stares down at your teary face, eyes wet and lips trembling. He still holds your face in his large hand. His eyes soften the longer he looks at you, and after what seems like an eternity he starts leaning in towards you. You don’t dare to close your eyes, scared of what he’d do if you avoided him again. He gets closer, and you hold back a fearful whimper as his lips softly press against yours. Your stomach turns as he holds the kiss, leaving you anxious and uncomfortable. He pulls back and meets your gaze once more. 
“You’re…ethereal. Perfect, so perfect my love. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. I’ve always wanted to claim you as my own.” He kisses you again, with more need and passion than the first. The tail of his overblot form comes to wrap around your waist and pull you into him, pressing your bodies together. His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you with more and more fervor. His tongue slips past your lips and you let out a small groan despite yourself. He smiles against your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours. His demeanor had lost some of it’s intimidating aura as he looked at you completely lovestruck, strong hands caressing your back as his tail still held you in place.
“I’ll be all that you need, my love. I will be your entire reason for being, your entire purpose, as you are mine.” You shudder a bit in his hold, but if he notices, he pretends he doesn’t.
“This is my creation for us, dear. Our paradise. Doesn’t it make you happy?”
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pretty-little-mind33 · 9 months
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Count Alexei Vronsky x wife!reader
Summary: When Alexei brought you a kitten, he didn't think you would spend your entire time with her.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: mild jealousy
~ i hope you like it <3 @vanessavampiaives ~
COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST
Count Alexei Vronsky doesn't usually have any reason to be jealous. 
He's devilishly handsome and incredibly wealthy, and more importantly, he has you. 
His lovely wife, whom he loves dearly and who he knows loves him just as much. Since you met him, he'd fallen for you hard and you remain the sun he revolves around. 
So, when he comes back home one evening with a small basket and calls your name, he's expecting you to greet him like you usually would: with a hug. 
Instead, just as you prepare to rush up and wrap your arms around his shoulders, you make a small squeal and cover your mouth as you see the basket. "Alexei, what is this?" you whisper as he chuckles and holds out the basket for you. 
You peer inside and when you pull up the blankets and see a small soft bundle of white fur, your heart almost explodes. You look up at your husband, a wide smile curling your lips. "Oh! Is that for me?" 
Alexei smiles. He kneels down to put the basket on the floor. You mimic him and watch happily as he gently picks up the kitten in his hands and lifts her out of the cushions in the basket. The kitten yawns, scrunching her little pink nose, and looks up, blinking with her blue eyes as she looks at you. 
"He's adorable," you say, moving your dress so you can fully sit on the floor. 
"She is all yours, my love," Alexei passes the kitten to you, joining you on the floor as he crosses his legs. "Do you like her?" he asks expectantly, leaning in and smoothing his knuckle under the kitten's chin. The small kitten meows, and you don't know if it is a sound of disapproval or enjoyment. 
You caress her carefully. She's so tiny in your arms. "I love her," you whisper, looking into your husband's eyes and sending him a sweet smile.
"What did I do to receive such a sweet present?" 
Alexei chuckles and stands up. He dusts his uniform and leans down, resting his hand under your chin to pull your head up to him. He kisses your forehead gently. "Do I need a reason to spoil my darling?" he teases, smirking a little before he adds, "I listen to you, you know. I know you've been wanting a cat for a while and I couldn't resist when I saw this precious little thing."
You cradle the kitten in your arms, eyes lighting up as you feel the small animal start to purr against your hands. "She's lovely, thank you," you say sincerely and Alexei's heart swells seeing the pretty smile that gracious your lips. He tucks some hair behind your ear and hums warmly. 
His happiness is short-lived considering all you talk about for the next week is Princess. He's convinced you've spent more of your time petting that cat than talking with him.
It's a Sunday morning and you're sitting on the couch with Princess curled up in your lap as you scratch behind her ears. You're humming softly, whispering praises as she purrs. 
Alexei walks in, adjusting the cuffs of his suit and his eyes narrow when he sees you. He sighs and leans against the wall, crossing his arms. "You know you don't have to be with her all the time," he states, his voice a little strained.
Your expression twists into concern and you look up at your husband. "What do you mean?" you ask quietly, continuing to caress Princess's fur. 
Alexei sighs again, this time walking over and sitting next to you. "I mean you're always with her. Always. She sleeps in between us in our bed goddamnit!" he runs a hand through his blond curls, seeming exhausted and his curse earns him a frown. "And it would all be okay, but it's been days. And I miss you."
You catch on to his tone and smirk. "Honey, please tell me you aren't jealous of a kitten, are you?"
Alexei's cheeks turn crimson and he coughs. "Of course, I'm not, that would be ridiculous."
"Seems like you are," you giggle, scratching Princess's ear one last time before picking her up and placing her down at your feet. Completely unbothered by the change, Princess starts to lick and clean her leg.
You turn to Alexei, gently ruffling his hair. "All you had to say was that you wanted some pets too and I would have happily given you some," you joke with a smile.
He pushes your hand away, still embarrassed. However, his chest feels full as he enjoys your attention. He's like a starved man and he'll take whatever he can have. "Don't laugh at me, love."
You look up at him, running your finger across his jaw. "You're cute when you're jealous."
Alexei rolls his eyes and leans down to capture your lips in his. He kisses you deeply and then mumbles against your lips, "I love you. I absolutely adore you. I worship you, my dear."
You feel your cheeks becoming warm at this and you kiss him back. "I love you too, you silly man," you say after a moment, pulling away. Your words are interrupted by Princess jumping onto Alexei's lap. He looks down at the small animal, unsure what to do as she curls up into a small ball. Your smile widens. "She likes you," the happiness in your voice fills Alexei with warmth. 
He brings his large hand over Princess's head and starts to pet her. "I will admit, she's very cute," he whispers and then looks at you from the corner of his eye, smirking, "Although, not cute enough to warrant ignoring your husband."
You swat his arm, frowning, "Oh shush," you stare up at him fondly, "You must know I love you more than a cat, right?”
Alexei leans over, careful not to disturb Princess, and kisses your lips. "Mmm, if you say so, my lovely," he says, smiling against your lips. 
You pull away, that adorable frown Alexei guiltily loves appearing in between your eyebrows. "I mean it," your voice is like velvet and Alexei's hand finds your cheek. His thumb caresses your skin and you subconsciously move into his touch.
"I know you do love," he murmurs, "I'm just teasing you."
You smile at him, your eyes shining. Just like the sun, he thinks, and for a moment he feels blinded by your beauty and then kisses you again.
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denim-devil · 11 months
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SOFT DOM MIKE EDGING A TRANSMASC READER PLS PLS PLS PLS
•.* Melting | M.S •.*
Summary - It’s not the first and it won’t be last, Mike can’t shake the look on your face when he pulls away at the last minute…he wants it all over again and again.
A/N - To whoever requested this, I hope you are happy, I am now DEAD, he’s…just…UGH
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Mike couldn’t help himself.
He watched you roll your hips majestically against his thigh, the sudden cooling of the clear substance that continuously dribbled from your tip travelled wide over his hairy skin brought him into a place of bliss and comfort.
“Please baby, i fuckin’ need you-“
He mumbled with a deepness that rattled his ribcage, eventually his chest, irking the once dormant desire to push you back and plant himself balls deep inside of your hole but he settled for less, for your pace, latching his soft lips into the supple skin of your neck, once bare now blossoming with several bruises, deep purple with shades of nightsky blue.
“You got me Mike, just wanna feel you deep, wan’ you to fill me up-
The ache grew further into the very core of his body, his cock weeping, no, begging to be connected into something that had him yearning for you and only you, the very place that drew peaceful and laboured breaths all in one.
“Fuck, I gotta- please baby, just for me”
It wasn’t as much of warning, not entirely for you but for himself, he couldn’t help the sudden drawn out movements he forced upon himself from pushing his heavy cock backwards until his fat tip lingered against the puckered skin of your entrance, or the way his other hand, free, grasped harshly at your hips, making you still, the rolling stopping which made it that much easier to push into you.
A sigh escapes you, lingering in the air and filling Mike’s mostly empty thoughts with nothing but you, his lips turning up into a smile, almost sincere but maybe the tiniest little bit of cocky, he practically lived on the way you fell apart as soon as he sank into you, from his tip to every ridge and vein softly scraping against your velvet walls, is this what Heaven felt like?
“Fuc’ Mikey shit- feels so fucking big”
Each time felt like the first, you could never get use to the feeling of him stretching you out, slowly sinking in inch by inch, swallowing up the greed that grew inside of you, almost threatening, forcing you to just push back and take him whole, you hold off each time, allowing the slight, soft force Mike pushed on your hips direct you, make you focus on just him and nothing else.
“Yeah-“
He ushers out, halfs chuckles the rest like a highschool crush who’s just scored with the most popular, eyes almost shining with pride once you settle against his bare thighs, his balls heavy yet soft and almost welcoming, resting perfectly between the two globes that brought him idolised release most sleepless nights.
You gasp, stilling once the sting begins to grow like a cherry blossom, sprinkling it’s fallout within, his fully sheathed member warm and thick, flawlessly fitting without troubles almost like a lost jigsaw piece but Mike was so much more, his arms grew heavy around you, holding you close whilst he got use to the profuse heat you supplied.
He stilled watching the pretty pink lips he claimed moments ago shine delicately underneath the dim yellowing of his bedside lamp open wider once you begin to get use to the burn, the stretch, to him.
“Baby, look at you, takin’ what I’m giving you”
He was proud, proud like a father would be when his child won at the egg and spoon race, it grew, his heart warm and head fuzzy, you relished in the look that his eyes wore, the bags underneath alluding to the darkness that threatened to take over any second, it felt becoming to latch onto the contact, sharing the same view of one another, it felt tantalising, spine tingling.
“Never gonna get use to the feeling of you, never want to, feels to damn good Mikey”
He groans at the nickname, urging him to pull out slowly before pushing his way back in, the same gripping like feeling from before pulsed around his throbbing cock, you dazzled in and out of a dazed wet dream, flicking back and forth from the light dusting of brunette hair that travelled from his pubis up to his chest, his cock, thick and proud stretching you out and forcefully pressing against that sweet spot which clouded your foggy head with stars.
You could already feel the deep sensations from your gut, how his fingers massaged at your hips before travelling to the base of your aching member, messily taking a hold before he repeated each step, pulling outwards before pushing back into your open hole, each one becoming swifter and deeper then the last.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was on the job- about how tight your pretty little hole is for me, you think that’s fair?”
He half mutters, half grunts before returning to the already bruised skin of your neck, breathing heavily, taking your smell in, intoxicating himself just enough to force his hips inwards repeatedly, the once quietened room now full with echoes of skin lewdly slapping together almost representing a mantra which soulfully chattered with one another.
His mouth was nothing short of vulgar but you could taste the smidgen of sweetness he laced within it whilst he wetly lapped and lathed at your ear, heavy breathing and pants forcing the once tightened coil within to loosen up like a flower in a spring.
“Mike- baby, gonna cum; fuck- I-“
Stuttering was the only option when Mike slammed repetitively into you, balls drawing long breaths from you when they made contact with your taint. It felt close, how he practically mauled you like a dog in heat, his dark curls a mess and his mouth working wonders against the quickened pulse point between the crook of your neck and shoulder.
“Not yet baby- please, I need you”
He whimpered whilst squeezing the base of your throbbing erection, cutting off what you chased after, the high you seeked whilst wrapped up in him, against him.
A loud sob escaped you followed by a short dainty choked moan which felt trapped, scraping along your throat, it almost felt impossible to say anything, brain scrambled purely from cock, you would never admit to such things and just how worked up he got you, how much of a mess he could turn you into it, it was embarrassing to say the least but Mike loved it, you crumbled like his favourite shortbread, sweet and light on his tongue, worth his while.
His impending “doom” creeped upon him, his hips effortlessly rolling his cock back and forth in quick fashion, hitting every spot you needed it to as you desperately clung to the arm holding you up and into him.
“I can’t, please Mikey, let me cum”
He shakes his head, beads of sweat rolling from his skin like a rainy Tuesday. He was denying you of the very same thing he chased after, the certain bliss that had you feeling other worldy, a candle in the wind almost.
“You. Can. A-And. You. Will.”
He paused with each interval, emphasising that you were his and he owned that, especially when you began to seek the easy way out, he wouldn’t let you of course but trying, god, Mike was dying to see what would unfold when you do, he wanted to watch you break.
“Come on baby boy, wanna see you cum”
Just like that. The constant jamming of his cock and the deep warmth he supplied drove you over the edge, body falling limp against his sweat slicked chest as he still slipped ever so easily inside, his bulbous tip abusing the spot that caused your very own defeat.
Mike watched, stilling. Focusing. Each spurt landing on the soft white duvet beneath, dribbling from your angry head, it brought both satisfaction and adoration…and his one-way ticket to heaven.
“Fuck-“
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INSIDE EVERYTHING. | ingrid engen
ingrid engen x reader
genre: smut, minor disastrous.
warnings: +18 writting, semi-public sex, touching, fingering, r sub, maybe a bit realistic, did not reach the limit, half sex, almost caught.
notes: i'm not a big fan of writing smut but i tried to use all my neurons 🤷‍♀️ also i wrote this when i was sleepy so maybe there are some things that don't make much sense
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: It's shopping day, however you are very doubtful on which denim shorts you are going to acquire.
How to solve? Ask a certain norwegian woman for her impression.
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“ You're on my mind, been there all the night. I've been missing my midnight queen. ”
Rosenfeld.
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❝ No. ❞ You heard Ingrid disagree before you even got fully dressed.
Arms crossed with some shorts folded, back leaning against the cabin wall and beautiful grassy eyes staring at you.
Engen looked more like a fashion critic than your girlfriend. That was the bad side of being her girlfriend: always having an opinion in what you would wear.
❝ Why not?! ❞ You would need good justifications to ditch those shorts. You walked around completely to make sure it was comfortable. ❝ It's perfect. ❞
❝ Too short. ❞ Worse than having a critical girlfriend? Having a jealous and critical girlfriend.
You and Ingrid have been dating for a year. It are flowers, there is nothing to complain about apart from the midfielder's very few inconvenient attitudes.
After all, you were also a bit inconvenient with her.
Your optical orbs landed on the norwegian, indignant and not convinced that these would be the perfect shorts for your summer vacation.
❝ But isn't that the point of shorts? ❞ You argued, extending a hand to Engen, waiting for her to give you the next shorts you would try on.
❝ Yes, but this one is shorter than the normal ones. ❞ Ingrid claimed as she watched you from top to bottom, mainly focusing on the beginning of the curve of your buttock. ❝ And your ass shows. ❞
You rolled your eyes, unzipping your shorts inside the cabin; Just the two of you, there was nothing to worry about.
You wouldn't even need to face the norwegian in person to find out her reaction, as the mirror that almost completed the wall gave it away.
❝ And what’s the problem? ❞ At that point you were mocking with her, but it was these types of comments that touched the player's heart the most. Your eyes landed on your girlfriend's reflection.
Engen was not happy about this at all. ❝ Are you kidding me? ❞ Her perplexed tone was so noticeable that it brought a silly smile off your face.
The laughter on your face was there for a long time, and so was the silence. Not so much, in reality, the only thing that passed through your ears was the scattered sounds of the store's environment.
❝ Give me the next one, miss possessive. ❞ You whispered without receiving a response. Your brow furrowed in doubt, until you noticed Ingrid's sudden approach to you.
So, you turned your body towards the woman, who suddenly handed you one of the next shorts you were going to try on. ❝ We had agreed that you wouldn't call me that anymore. ❞
❝ How can I not call you that if you live up to your name? ❞ You played again, pulling down the shorts you were wearing while you felt her greenish eyes penetrate you.
Basically, it was completely fun to irritate and pay attention to the norwegian, mainly because she gave in very easily to this type of emotion.
It just wasn't expected that this time would be different. Really very different.
You threw the previous shorts on the armchair inside the dressing room and immediately put on the other one. Sincerely? That was the best.
❝ How about that? ❞ You questioned without looking back at Engen. It was comfortable, probably wouldn't be too short in your girlfriend's opinion, and it wasn't long either.
You gave the norwegian some time to formulate an impression about the shorts. And given how long it took, something positive would probably come out of those lips.
Or maybe because Engen's eyes were too busy staring at your thighs and part of your groin.
❝ Not short. And it's more practical. ❞ Gotcha. Ingrid murmured, immediately placing her index finger inside one of yours side waistbands.
Your eyes finally met the midfielder's, who had a very tempting look on her face. And you knew very well what that meant, but not for that moment.
❝ Practical? ❞ You slowly dissipated the word from your lips, confused by what was said.
❝ To take away. ❞
And gradually you discovered it. Your eyes widened, eyebrows rose in surprise and your head began to shake slowly in denial.
❝ No. ❞ You inhaled, shaking your head faster. ❝ No way. ❞ Your cheeks began to burn with tension.
❝ I didn't say anything. ❞ Ingrid smiled the stupid smile of someone who had the best idea in mind. Suddenly, you weren't the one playing with her anymore.
And yes, she is playing with you.
The finger on the waistband previously pulled you closer to Engen's body, who saw the opportunity to seal your lips quickly.
At first you forced yourself to give in, after all, who would deny a kiss from the woman of your life? Presupposedly, you moved your face inches away, before the norwegian started advancing.
❝ Shit, Ingrid. We are not doing it. ❞ You whispered, placing the palm of your hand on the woman's lips and gently pushing them. ❝ We are in public. ❞
❝ No, we are not. ❞ Engen played with the situation once again, moving your hand away. ❝ Please, it will be quick. ❞
Your optical orbs stared at the stupid malicious expression that the midfielder carried on her beautiful and angelic face.
The long silence without responding to the norwegian was the key for Ingrid to carefully seal her lips again. Slowly, your body was pushed against the mirror on the wall. ❝ The chances of them seeing us are low, Kjære. ❞ (darling.)
Your body was already warm from the closed and small place that was the cabin, and now with your girlfriend touching you? It was like adding gasoline in aflame.
Ingrid controlled her lips so well, being nice and slow until you got used to the situation. The taller girl's long, cold, left-handed fingers slid down your torso, looking for some treasure while the other hand delicately grabbed her jaw.
You grunted between the kiss, perhaps due to the tension, to the lack of breath that was present or owing to the fear of someone opening that door.
Your eyes closed, giving up on the situation you found yourself in. Your mind focused on the sweet flavor of Ingrid's lip flesh and creating scenarios of an employee opening that door.
The only thing that sounded inside that semi-dark room were the sticky lips mixing and the sound of the environment.
❝ Ingrid— ❞ You murmured between the kiss, which slowly broke from the moment Engen led them south.
The norwegian's lips found themselves on the skin of the curve of your neck. And that was the final step for you to finally give yourself to the woman.
Your fingers slipped between the black strands, combing and pressing them each time Ingrid gently nibbled or sucked your skin.
If you were looking at her correctly, you could easily see how the midfielder had a short and emphatic smile.
Lips half-open, echoing muffled sounds and your skin getting chills more and more. It was magnificent, incredible and crazy how a certain norwegian woman could make you ecstasy.
❝ That's a bad idea. ❞ The words slowly came out in a murmur between muffled grunts. Ingrid increasingly enhanced her lips on your skin.
The midfielder had the talent of always studying your body with tenor and affection, it was a gift to have Engen's delicate lips glued to your figure.
But despite this, your concern for the environment was the counter to affectionate touches. Even though every cabin had a door, they didn't lock.
And being inside for more than six minutes was also a danger, at some point someone would enter there.
❝ Trust me. ❞ Engen finally released her lips from your body, but it screamed, begged to have her back.
You hated Ingrid for always leaving you at ease in situations like this, always halfway. At this point, your legs were almost begging to open and let the Norwegian do whatever she wants with you.
It was a fight. You wanted to, but you also didn't.
But in reality, there was no turning back from this; Your needy and passionate side won.
Screw it. You're in public, people should see how much you love each other. People should watch how you loved being touched like that.
Ingrid finally reached her fingers at the beginning of your genitals through your shorts, gradually touching them with just her index finger.
Your body was sensitive, any touch was enough to make you grunt or arch. The norwegian's fingerprint did not rub, but slid, circularly.
Even though the fabric of the shorts is thick enough to not feel the outside touch, Engen had the capacity to do so.
It was the wet lips touching your skin and marking it, it was the slightest touch of the long finger in the region of your genitals; Ingrid wasn't even inside you and your breathing was so heavy.
Your lungs inflated and deflated as quickly as a marathon runner's, a strong struggle between containing the slightest groans and finding breath for the situation.
❝ Do you want me to stop? ❞ Engen murmured between her lips glued to your skin, slowly pulling away and resting her eyes on your face. ❝ We can do this at home. ❞
Despite all this attitude, Ingrid was a person with a strong personality, always putting your well-being first.
The norwegian's fingers, too. They stopped, but without leaving their place.
You took a second breath before confirming your answer. You shook your head negative, finally giving your answer.
❝ Please, no. ❞ Your lips wet with your own drool, hardly satiated because you were busier moaning.
Your body began to release drops of sweat, your sly eyes looked at Engen; carrying the stupid horny smile.
Her left hand slid down to the south of your thighs, pressing your fingers against the norwegian's wrist. You slowly guided her delicate hand into your shorts, unzipped.
Therefore, the midfielder's fingers were a tissue away from her clitoris. Your gaze stared into the greenish optical orbs, somewhat perplexed by his sudden attitude.
❝ Finish what you started. ❞ You brought your lips close to your girlfriend's ear area, enough to whisper.
You freed her wrist, intending to give Engen full consent to touch your body however she wanted. Your arms rose and wrapped around the player's neck.
Slowly, Ingrid wet her own fingers with her lips, lubricating them. The ring finger started the touching, even over the panties.
It was slow, but well done. The midfielder had a lot of experience when it came to creating elation in you.
The circular movements were enough to make you grunt and muffle the sounds on Engen's skin, indirectly begging her to do more and more.
Within seconds, the only thing you could feel was Ingrid's finger invade your clitoris, especially when you noticed your panties being dragged to the side.
Exposed to her and everything, your eyes refused to look at anything other than the cabin door. You had many missions: not to moan so loud, not to grunt and not to make any rough movements.
After all, you were one step away from being in public.
Ingrid's ring and middle fingers did not penetrate, but rubbed against your warm vaginal skin. From side to side, top to bottom.
And that was enough to make you act like she had two fingers inside you. It wasn't a lie when it was said that your skin is sensitive.
With each second it increased in intensity like a sports car starting up, Ingrid moved her fingers so well that you even wondered if that was the woman you knew.
Your face was buried in the midfielder's collarbone, muffling short, sly moans that left your lips.
❝ Damn, Ingrid. ❞ Even though you were busy blocking out the sounds coming out of you, there was still space to murmur your loved one's name.
Engen acted concentrated, rubbing her fingers on you, which inch by inch entered you. But also, the woman's cold lips touched your skin.
Body arched towards your girlfriend, fingers leading towards the long black strands of her. You bit your own lips with each long finger you received, stopping the moans from coming out.
Slowly, you could feel the sweat dripping down your entire body, especially on the inside of your thighs. A sweat so powerful that it was enough to slide.
The heat inside the dressing room was so intense that the mirror fogged up every minute, perhaps due to the control over your bodies.
❝ Relax. ❞ Engen murmured so low that it was difficult to decipher, even close to your ear.
You didn't know what to say and didn't even know what to think: you didn't know whether to moan the norwegian's name, order her to stop due to the tension or beg for more.
And down there, it was impossible to describe what was happening. Ingrid wrapped her fingers around it, took it out and put it back in several times and always increased the intensity as if she knew exactly what she was playing with.
Engen played with your body as if she knew every detail and secret of yours.
❝ Fuck. ❞ You repeated this once, twice, three times, almost increasing your intonation. Your mind surrendered to Engen, surrendering so much that you even forgot you were in public.
Your very long arms pressed more and more around the taller woman's neck, mainly as a bridge to sink your face even further into her neck.
The norwegian brought her lips back to your neck, carefully kissing your skin, but also biting it.
On your private part and now on your neck? This was the perfect combo, but at the same time crazy. It was at that moment that you were sure you were crazy about Ingrid Engen.
But you were so focused on praising her and moaning the norwegian's name that you completely forgot you were in public.
Especially on a Saturday night, where people go out to buy clothes and try them on. Which meant your time was limited.
At that moment, even though you were mentally occupied with Engen's face and fingers, it was very noticeable steps meters away heading towards you.
Your eyebrows arched, immediately pulling the player's hand away; even though she had noticed it too, since she had stopped moving her fingers.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
❝ Men hva i helvete. ❞ (what the fuck.) Ingrid murmured so swiftly that it didn't even sound norwegian. The woman's body reacted so quickly by moving towards the armchair, that Engen seemed experienced in being caught in act.
And you were no different. The only problem is that you only had the opportunity to stare at the door, praying that whoever opened it wouldn't notice anything.
The footsteps approached and stopped, knocking twice on the door and asking permission to open it just a crack.
❝ Yes? ❞ You responded to the touches with a fragile intonation, as you were trying to catch your breath.
❝ Sorry to interrupt, but I noticed that you've been in there for almost twenty-five minutes. ❞ A female voice came from outside. ❝ Is everything ok? ❞
You took a while to respond, as you were more concentrated and having difficulty taking off your shorts due to the sweat caused.
❝ Yes, everything fine. I am leaving soon! I just need... ❞ Your eyes fell on Engen, who carried a stupid smile of someone who was clearly holding back a laugh. ❝ ...Fold the clothes I wore. ❞
❝ No need, just leave the ones you won't use on the counter after you leave. ❞ The door gap has closed. ❝ Once again, sorry for the inconvenience. ❞
An uncomfortable silence remained inside the cabin, you wiped off the little sweat that remained on your own neck.
❝ I knew this would happen! ❞ You finally said something, looking at Ingrid.
❝ If you had known it was going to happen, you wouldn't have accepted it, miss moans loudly. ❞ Engen got back at you, expressing short laughs that were definitely meant to stress you out.
❝ But I— ❞
She got up and walked towards the door, carrying the other shorts you had already worn. ❝ Can we finish at home? ❞ At this point, Ingrid was making fun of you.
❝ ...Fuck you. ❞ That was the only thing you said before pushing the Norwegian; which barely moved. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.
You put on your own pants, soon carrying the shorts you were previously wearing between your fingers. Now, you were forced to buy it.
❝ We will never do this again, you idiot. ❞
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logansargeantsbabymom · 4 months
Text
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt4
Lando Norris x Fem!Reader , Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader
warnings: fingering
Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10
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Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
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A faint cry is what had awoken me from my slumber. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before making my way to Yelena’s nursery to change and nurse her before burping and rocking her back to sleep.
I’d looked at the time as I rocked her back to sleep reading ‘5:53am’. There was no point in going back to sleep if I had to wake up at 6:30, so I decided that I was gonna go to the kitchen to start breakfast for my family.
On my way to the kitchen, I stopped in the living room grabbing the small bose speaker I had charging before continuing my journey to my big, beautiful kitchen. I opened the fridge and grabbed out enough food to make feed a village. Eggs, Munster Cheese, Turkey Bacon, Turkey Sausages, Greek Yogurt, Granola, Strawberries, Blueberries, Pineapples and Bananas.
I hear faint but heavy footsteps coming close to the kitchen while I mixed seasoning with the eggs before cooking them. I felt arms snake around my waist and a face being nuzzled in the crook of my neck before feeling faint kisses making their way up to my jaw.
“Good Morning beautiful, Did Yelena wake you up again?” I turn around to face my boyfriend before I rake my hand through his crazy bed hair.
“Yes Logan, Yelena did wake me up.” a smirk made its way on my lips as I saw a frown make its way on his.
“I thought I told you to wake me up when she did. You’ve been working too much and you need rest.” he said sincerely. I could never get over the look in his eyes, I could get lost in those greenish blue orbs forever.
“Babe, you think you’re not tired too?” a chuckle makes it way past my lips.
“It doesn’t matter if I’m tired. All that matters is I got her. I got her and I have you, and I’m determined to never let you go again” he said as he snuggled deeper into my body. A piercing sound is what pulled me away from him, it was getting louder and louder until.
“Good Morning sleepy head. Yelena woke up so I heated up some breast milk you have in the freezer and I rocked her back to sleep, we should have about another hour and a half before she wakes up again” Lando said as he walked into our shared bedroom, his feet heavy as they padded against the bedroom floor.
A smile peaks on my face “Thank you handsome. I love you so much, you’re too good to me” I said sleepily as I welcomed Lando back into the comfort of our king size bed.
it had been 4 months since I’ve given birth to Yelena and it had been the best 4 months of my life.
I mean I really did have it all, I had an amazing boyfriend, a wonderful daughter, whom had an amazing dad, I had gotten a job at McLaren as Lando’s food prep and nutrition manager which allowed me to travel with him and keep my daughter with us.
After I’ve gotten the job, one of the first people I told besides Lando, was Logan.
That moment we shared after I’d given birth to Yelena replays in my mind almost every morning and I can’t help but yearn for us to be a happy family together.
We all can’t have what our hearts yearn for though, can we? Not after what Logan did to me, the way he made me feel, how much I wanted to die with every moment I stayed with him, how ungrateful he was whenever I did something for him, the way he hurt me day after day, how he always told me I was crazy when I brought up him not loving me and how he tried to win me back after telling him I was pregnant again before leaving.
Logan was excited to hear that McLaren had offered me the job as Lando’s Food Prep and Nutrition manager seeing as that it would allow not only me to travel with them but Yelena could too. Logan wouldn’t have to resort to seeing her every 2 months or whenever his job could let him escape for a minute.
Traveling with Yelena would be a bit of a hassle but thank god that Lando’s current nutrition manager had 3 more months before his contract was up so that allowed me to mentally prepare myself for having to travel with a baby for work.
“What’re you thinking of?” Lando mumbles against my neck as he rubs his hand up and down my side before they landed on my waist and drawing imaginary circles.
“Us. How lucky I am to have you with me even when I was pregnant and how you stayed, even during the hard nights.” tears welled up in my eyes as I recall some night we had. “How whenever she was keeping me awake with the kicking how’d you stay up with me and rub my belly until she stopped, how you’d wake up whenever I had my weird cravings, because there were so many” I let out a sniffle as the tears that once threatened to fall came pouring down.
a sniffle leaves Lando’s nose “so many” he lets out a light chuckle “and you know what Y/N/N?”
“What?”
“Even though Yelena is not biologically mine, she’s the second best thing that’s happened to me. The Miami win is first, you’re third” a chuckle elapses past my lips as I playfully swat his arm “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re number one, you always have been and you always will be. I wish to live in no world at which you are not in, I’d rather die than let you live without me beside you.”
I’d rather die than let you live without me beside you. If Lando knew about the same dream I’ve been having since that moment between me and Logan in the delivery room I don’t think he’d be saying this. I’ve made my feelings very clear to Logan that night I left our apartment and Lando knows, so why am I dreaming about him, about us being a happy family?
I want to confide in someone about these dreams but I don’t want them to go to Lando with it before I’m ready to tell him. What would Lando think if I did tell him? Would he leave me? Would there be a possible explanation on why I keep having these reoccurring dreams? Do I want to be with Logan? No. No, that one I’m very adamant on. I want nothing to do with Logan relationship wise. I mean he has been a great dad to Yelena but he’s not fit to be my boyfriend or husband, so co-parenting it is for us.
I mean I’m not complaining about that right? I’m the one that left him knowing I was pregnant, I’d be an ass if I showed up to a grand prix walking into the Williams garage being like “Surprise Logan, we have a daughter” you know, I wasn’t that stubborn enough to do that to him.
“We should go back to sleep but I have better plans” a smirk made its way on Lando’s face as he reaches for the covers to put it over our heads. His hand travels lower before they reached the waistband of my already soaked panties, his fingers moving the fabric to the side before moving them between my fold slicking them in my juices. I can feel Lando’s fingers ghosting my aching hole before a cry breaks my heavy breathing.
No, No, please go back to bed I thought “I’ve got her Y/N/N, just stay here and wait for me to come back.” Lando presses a kiss to my lips before he retreats to the nursery. The thought of my boyfriend taking on a dad role turning me on. I fully removed my panties and stuck two fingers in my aching cunt awaiting Lando’s return, before I could actually give myself some pleasure my phone buzzes on the nightstand.
A loud and frustrated sigh leaves my lips as I flip over and look at the caller ID “Logan ‘Merica Sargeant” a shaky breath escapes past my lips as I press answer
“we need to talk”
ENJOYYYYY (i have work)
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mustainegf · 2 months
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james fluff where he's just holding reader after a stressful day and rubbing her back and wiping her tears away and telling her that he loves her ??<3 thanks :)
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𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ¹⁹⁹⁷
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I was lying on our bed. I could feel the stress building up inside me all day, bubbling in my throat. James held me in his powerful arms, now gentle and caring in their hold, against the warmth of his chest. Being warmed by him soothed me to no end, but I knew he could sense my exhaustion.
"It's okay," he whispered smooth and soothing, his hand rubbing my back. "I'm right here. You're safe with me."
My eyes, which had been welling with tears all day, finally overflowed, and he very carefully wiped the tears away with his thumb. His calloused fingers were in a way, soft. "Shh, don't cry, baby," he purred into my forehead. "I love you so much..."
I sniffed, trying to smile through my tears. "I just... it's been such a tough day."
His grip tightened, and his nearness medicated me. "I know, sweetheart. I'm right here."
He pressed another kiss to my temple, and with fingers combing through my hair, the pattern of his ministrations soothed me shaking body. "Remember that time we went to the beach and you got all excited about finding that perfect seashell?" he asked, a playful tone in his voice, and I wondered where he was going with this. "You looked so adorable, like a little kid. That's one of my favorite memories."
I chuckled softly through my tears, something about the memory brought a small smile onto my face. "I still have that seashell," I said, my voice a tad steadier now. "It's in my dresser."
His voice had warmed up and sounded sincere. "I love how you enjoy so much in the simplest of things."
The words that tumbled forth from his lips wrapped about me like a blanket as he spoke on. "You know," he started off, "I've been thinking a lot about our future . I want us to have all of it, a nice house, maybe with a big garden to plant flowers and vegetables in. And kids... I want kids with you. I want to see little versions of us runnin' around, laughing and playing."
The thought made my chest light, and I looked up at him, peering into his those gorgeous eyes for a hint of doubt. All that showed there was love. "You really want that?"
He only nodded, his eyes soft. "I want to marry you, build a life. I want to wake up every morning with you by my side and fall asleep every night holding you just like this."
He pulled me in closer, if that was even possible, and I felt his lips lightly touch my forehead again. "You mean everything to me. You're never alone, baby. You have me, forever."
I was crying once more, but they were tears of happiness, tears of love. "I love you so much, James," I could barely speak.
His smile, all crinkly at the corners, which I adored. "I love you too. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy."
He kissed me again, and with that soft, tender pressure, the last of my worries vanished away into the night.
He told me about all the little things he loved about me, how I scrunched my nose when I laughed, how I always knew just what to do when he was sick, how I made the best pancakes in the world. Each word was a soft touch.
"And you know what else?" he added. "I love how you always steal the covers in the middle of the night. It's a pain in the ass, but I wouldn't have it any other way."
I giggled, feeling lighter than I had all entire day. "I don't do it on purpose," I protested.
"I know," he laughed, and pecked a kiss onto the end of my nose. "That's what makes it cute."
Soon enough, as we kept talking, stress left through the window. James kept telling me sweet stories of things to remind me of all the good times that we had spent together and all the great moments still to be spent in each other's company. He spoke of our dreams to visit places we had not been to, to travel around the world and explore new places together, and to create memories for the rest of our lives.
"And someday," he said again "We'll have our house, our kids. And every day I will remind you of exactly what you mean to me."
"You mean so much to me," he whispered, his lips against my ear. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
I snuggled myself deeper in his chest, feeling his heartbeat against my cheek
Feeling myself start to drift off, I felt James press one last kiss onto my forehead. "Goodnight, my love," he whispered. "Sweet dreams"
"Goodnight," I murmured, the smile creeping onto my face. "I love you, Jamie."
"I love you too," he replied in a whisper. "Always."
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tj-dragonblade · 23 days
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[FIC] Past the Wit of Man (or, Bottom's Dream)
Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: M Word Count: 3657 Tags: comedy, attempted comedy, comedy devolving into feels, identity reveal, sex worker Hob Gadling, advancing my Men In Lingerie agenda, long-haired Hob Gadling agenda, stretching timelines like taffy, Desire and Dream get along AU, but Desire is not actively in this, Dead Boy Detectives comic spoilers mentioned, miscommunication, Dream of the Endless finally uses his words, happy ending
Notes: Kudos props and huge thanks to everyone in the Mr Sadman discord who creatively interpreted a snippet I posted of something else and launched the whole idea of Hob working for a supernatural escort service; this would not exist without y'all and your beautiful brainstorming. ❤️
This fills the August monthly @dreamlingbingo prompt Identity Reveal, replacing square A2 (creature: Veela) on my bingo card
Summary: Hob is nicely settled in a new career and a new identity and does not expect to see his Stranger until 2089. The universe, apparently, has other ideas.
On AO3
~ "Your client is Dream of the Endless. He is extremely ancient and extremely powerful, an underpinning concept of the universe. Absolutely terrible about loosening up and letting himself relax."
"Don't think I'd be much good at relaxing if I was an underpinning concept of the universe either," Hob jokes, opening the profile that the Agency rep has just airdropped to his phone and thumbing through it.
The rep, a foppish vampire with curly white hair and impeccable fashion sense, arches one elegant eyebrow at him. "Apparently his most recent girlfriend dumped him quite harshly and his sibling has arranged this booking on his behalf; he's—and I am quoting here—'absolutely incompetent at managing his own happiness'."
"He knows he's been booked though, right? I'm not gonna catch the fallout because no one told him what kind of appointment this is?" It's only happened once, a prank played on a shy ace nixie by her well-meaning but ill-informed friends; all the same, Hob does not care to repeat the experience—particularly with someone potentially more dangerous.
"He is very much aware and in agreement, yes. We promised him our top companion." The rep dimples at Hob, a smile of saccharine sincerity that shows only the barest hint of fang. "And that's you, sweet Nick."
"And that's me," Hob agrees matter-of-factly, frowning at his phone, then turning it to show his guest. "No photo?"
The rep glances at the screen and makes a commiserative noise. "Oh, yes. Unfortunate, that. Cameras have a very hard time with this fellow, something to do with his general relationship to reality." His tone takes on a simpering air of great melodrama. "We were forced to use an artist's rendition instead! Tragic, really; it doesn't do him justice."
"Huh," Hob says, turning his phone back and studying the cartoony hand-drawn image. Guy looks like he's got some sort of steampunk insect for a head, dark and bolt-laden and bug-eyed, with a trunk that's strongly reminiscent of a disembodied spine. "Dream of the Endless, you said? Looks more like a bloody nightmare."
The rep gives an exaggerated roll of his shoulders, as if shrugging off his delivery duty now that it's done, and turns to leave. "Well whatever the case, an Endless is far above the average client, darling. Give him your best."
"'Course." Hob grins. "That's why you brought the assignment to me, after all."
"Just so." The Agency rep gives a lazy wave in parting and Hob closes the door, still scrolling through the profile as he makes his way to the kitchen.
"Dozens of titles and names", he murmurs, glancing through the list of them. "King of Dreams and Nightmares, alright. Contains the entire collective unconscious of every living being in. Every…universe…?" He shakes his head. "Has never taken a vacation ever. Bested Lucifer Morningstar and oversaw the reassignment of Hell—okay, wow. Billions of years old." He whistles, a long sound of awed disbelief. "Maybe I throw in a free massage for this guy; sounds like he could use it."
He shakes his head again, pockets his phone, carries on with getting breakfast together.
Bug-headed workaholic foundational concept of the universe. Won't be the weirdest client he's ever serviced.
~
It's been ten years since his stranger showed up late for their meeting and smiled so openly and named him friend. That had been their longest meeting yet, lasting all afternoon and on into the evening and it wasn't until the Inn had started closing up for the night that they wound down. His stranger had spoken briefly of the missed appointment in 1989, making clear that something at least mildly traumatic had kept him away and also that he did not wish to elaborate, and Hob had let it go. There was so much to tell of his own century past, his friend remarking with interest on a great many of his stories, and it was enough. His stranger, his friend, had come back, and they'd had a lovely long meeting. Perhaps in 2089 he would be comfortable sharing more of his own story, but even if not, Hob didn't mind. He was confident once more in the friendship he'd declared back in 1889 and willing to coax it out bit by bit, meeting by meeting. He had all the time in the world, after all.
Within a year of that meeting he'd wrapped up his teaching career, arranged for ownership of the New Inn to transfer to a 'relative' in the States who'd keep it running the next few decades, and started searching for a new career for his next identity.
He stumbled quite by accident into the broader supernatural world after being stalked by two dead teenagers helping that de Rais creep who wanted to steal his immortality. It all turned out fine in the end but opened Hob's eyes to exactly how much the supernatural had integrated into the modern world around him. And once old Hettie clued him in to the existence of a certain Service Agency catering to supernatural clients, his next career path was all but decided. What was he going to do, not seize the opportunity for fantastical sexual exploration when presented with it? Life was for living! Werewolves, vampires, sirens and fae and merfolk, the occasional ghost and even an extra-terrestrial or two; scales, feathers, tentacles, knots—Hob's shown them all a good time and earned a stellar reputation among the Agency's clientele. He doesn't plan to do it forever, but he enjoys exploring new avenues and stretching his limits and 'Nick Bottom' is the perfect persona to let him do so.
And now sweet high-priced in-demand Nick has been booked to rebound-fuck an uptight concept in humanoid form who looks like something straight out of a nightmare.
Hob can't wait to completely take this guy apart one orgasm at a time until he's a boneless puddle of satiation and send him home afterwards a brand new man.
Concept. Entity. Whatever.
~
The booking is scheduled for the following day and when the time comes, Hob is fresh and clean and set up in the Agency's most lavish suite. He's let his hair grow the last few years, sports a proper Hozier-like mane at this point, is wearing it down for this appointment. His beard is several weeks old, trimmed to artfully-scruffy perfection and well-groomed. He's lounging on the bed in a short open silk robe and a pair of lace panties that hug his hips and leave most of both arse cheeks exposed, a popular outfit in his repertoire sure to please the classiest of clients with the most discerning taste. Both pieces are a matching vibrant cobalt blue that complements his skin tone beautifully. He's wondering what fucking a concept is like, idly massaging his dick now and then to keep it primed, when finally there's a peculiar displacement of air and then a figure in dark robes with a weird spine-trunked bug-eyed head is standing in the middle of the suite. He's taller than Hob and inhumanly rail-thin; the robes plunge deep from the neckline, displaying milk-white skin without a hint of chest hair and clavicles that beg to be nibbled on. He's in profile, angled slightly away, and Hob has the distinct sense that this is a deliberate pose meant to make an impression, to instill awe and possibly fear in him.
So Dream of the Endless has a flair for drama, got it.
"Hello," Hob greets in his best breathless-and-sultry tone, rising from the bed to approach his client. He layers in a suitable amount of awe, pitching his voice toward 'smitten' with a subtle ring of sincerity to support it. "Oh, wow. You must be Dream of the Endless; I'm so delighted to get to meet you! I'll be taking care of you today; you can call me Nick."
The guy, the concept, Dream of the Endless, he goes stock-still as Hob speaks, and it's like the air in the room pauses with him. He turns, slowly, until Hob is face to face with his…oh, possibly that's a mask, then; the bug-eyed lenses are somewhat translucent in the light though Hob still can't see beneath them.
"There has been some mistake." The voice is deep and distorted through the helmet-mask, bone-rattling in an almost-pleasant way and, somehow, somewhat…familiar? "I was meant to be meeting with 'Nick Bottom'." The quotes around the name are audible.
"That's me!" Hob says, raking a hand back through his hair and shaking it to settle around his shoulders attractively, flashing his most charming smile. "At your service, love, whatever you need. I'm here to make sure you have a very good time, and—"
"Hob Gadling."
That draws him up short. He's currently Robyn Gadrin for tax-paying purposes in the outside world, but the Agency wouldn't give out his current identity let alone his true name, so how—
Hob's brain is babbling insistently about the note of familiarity in that voice and he finally lights on why as Dream of the Endless reaches up to remove his helmet.
Hob finds himself staring at the slightly-more-than-human-but-still-very-familiar face of his Stranger, his centennial touchstone, his friend.
Everything about his reality tips a little bit sideways, dominoes crashing one after the other in his brain until all that's left is that awful ringing alarm tone that features in emergency broadcast alerts on American telly.
Between them, the silence stretches awkwardly, until finally Hob breaks it, the first thing that comes to his tongue spilling out while his poor brain is still rebooting.
"Six-hundred some-odd bloody years, and this is how I learn your name?!"
~
It is five minutes later. Hob is sitting on the side of the plush bed in his short silk robe and lace panties, clutching a bottled water and seriously considering availing himself of the bar in the next room because his emotions are all over the place. His Stranger—Dream of the Endless, apparently—is seated next to him. His eyes are not the blue that Hob is used to, are fully black with actual stars winking in and out of them; it's gorgeous but uncanny. He's currently not looking at Hob, has got the weird bug-spine helmet gripped tightly in both hands. Which are still so pretty, Hob can't help noticing, his fingers longer and more spindly than normal, splayed wide around the curve of the helm, nails painted black. Or maybe not painted, maybe they just are black.
Pretty, regardless.
Not a helpful thought at this juncture.
It's not like he'd thought his Stranger was actually human, obviously, and okay yes the possibility of meeting up with him via this particular career choice had crossed his mind once or twice, might've featured in a private fantasy or two; but also he'd never seriously imagined it because it felt so entirely implausible that his prim and lofty Stranger would ever engage in something so mundane. So casual.
Apparently, Hob was wrong about that.
He's not sure how to feel about it, either.
The smooth inhumanly-pale chest on display in the plunging vee of those artfully-draped robes is also not helping anything.
His Stranger—Dream— moves slightly, glances at him with those starry eyes, flexes those pretty fingers on the helmet. "I will. Arrange. For another. To take your place, Hob, you need not—"
"Now hold on a minute," Hob interrupts, sudden direction presenting itself for his floundering emotions to flow. "What do you mean, 'arrange for another'? What's wrong with me?"
Dream, his name is Dream of the Endless, Dream looks perplexed. "Our. History—"
"Oh yes, our illustrious storied history wherein we have met all of seven times before now and, may I remind you, you took offense to my suggestion that we might be friends until you'd had time to digest it properly, yes."
"Eight."
"Eight?"
"I visited your dream, before undertaking a daunting journey from my realm to another. We shared wine. You gave a most thoughtful toast."
"I. Okay." He remembers that dream, yes; he remembers the wine that followed him out of it, and now with the knowledge that his Stranger is apparently King of all dreams and nightmares suddenly it all makes brand new sense. But he will process that later. "Eight. Still not a factor in my ability to do my job."
Mostly. It is his Stranger, after all, and it's not like he hasn't ever wanted—
"Sex would be. Awkward," Dream insists, and Hob loses it, never mind he'd half-thought the same thing until a second ago; Dream saying it makes him refute the assertion with everything he's got.
"You dare," he says, setting aside his water.
Dream boggles at him, cosmic eyes wide, mouth slightly parted.
"You. DARE. To disdain my professional services just because we know each other?!"
"Hob— "
"No. No, your booking was very clear that you were to have the very best, and that. Is. Me. So you will not be re-booking with another companion on the grounds that our acquaintance makes it 'awkward'; if you mean to partake of the services you've hired you will partake of them with me."
"My sibling."
"What."
"My sibling hired your services. Did they know—" He's half talking to himself and Hob sighs, forcefully pulling the conversation back on track.
"Yes, right; your sibling booked you and here you are. Did you want to get laid today?"
"You need not be so crude about it."
"Forgive me. Of course. Did you come here hoping to have a sensual skillful sexual experience with a stranger intent on your pleasure with no judgments or expectations placed upon you in return?" He makes a valiant effort to rein in his sarcasm. "Because I can still provide that. Minus the bit where we're not strangers."
Dream looks positively miserable, a sodden wet cat of a man in sex-appeal robes hunched on the edge of the decadently-plush bed, and there is certainly an understandable element of embarrassment to the situation but Dream is taking it so seriously. Hob is not surprised, exactly, but christ—he's more than willing to follow through never mind any feelings he may or may not want to admit to, and Dream is the one who'd agreed to the booking in the first place. You'd think he could handle this hiccup with a little more grace.
"It was my intent to. Do, as you say," Dream says at last, and Hob sighs.
"Is that still what you want, then? I promise I'll take good care of you." He's actually really warming up to the idea, not that he was cold to it to begin with. It's his Stranger after all. He's been willing to say yes for centuries. "They really did book you the best, and I would love to show you how well-earned my reputation is—"
"Hob—" Dream sounds pained, gives an artfully-dramatic shake of his head. "My wants are. Manageable. If no one else is available. I cannot simply engage with you so frivolously—"
Hob leaps up from the bed, stalks a frustrated few steps away and whirls back, spreads his arms. "Am I not appealing to you, Dream of the Endless?" He tosses his head, shakes his hair back, gestures at the blue silk and lace that he knows looks absolutely spectacular on him. "Would you like me to change clothes? I have a dozen more ensembles I'd be happy to put on if you'd rather peel me out of one of those. Would the Prince of Stories prefer roleplay? Golden-age pirate, biker bad boy, Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth, cowboy, librarian, Starfleet officer—I'll dress however you like." He's fired up, he's…it feels like anger but it's more like alarm; he is absolutely not about to let a colleague fuck HIS Stranger if Dream's looking to unwind. Not with all the thoughts he's entertained the last couple centuries, not when Dream is looking so entirely miserable about the whole experience. Hob wiggles his bare toes in the plush carpet, forcing a deep breath; he is jealous and possessive and protective all at once and has no idea how to safely navigate this storm to get Dream what he wants without pissing him off.
"Your…clothing becomes you greatly, Hob." He's sneaking a glance as he says it, like he's not allowed to look but can't help it. "Your clothing is not at issue."
"Then what is?" Hob rakes a hand back through his hair, frustration fizzling, careening toward concern. "If you're truly that put off by me, I'll let it go. But you're here, for sex, which you did say you wanted; this is my job and I'm good at it and you clearly need—" Someone to take care of you, he'd nearly said, and while Dream has been giving him so much leeway in this conversation he thinks that might be one straw too much for this particular camel's back.
Nice to know he appreciates Hob's hairy chest and his dick in blue lace, though.
Dream levels him with a look that almost puts him right back to 1889, and Hob has half a second to start panicking before Dream closes his eyes, draws himself up, sets his bloody weird helmet on the bedside table with a soft leathery clunk. When he opens his eyes again, they are resolute, resigned, the eyes of a man headed for the gallows despite the stars winking hopelessly in their depths.
"I do not wish to be intimate with you. When you view it as simply a job. I. Would like—but not. If it is a transaction. If I am merely a client."
Oh. Oh.
Oh shit, really?
Impossible.
Really?
"You want. You want it to mean something?" Hob is embarassed at how small his voice comes out.
Dream closes his eyes, something like shame written all over his beautiful otherworldly-pale face. "I had thought. At our fifth meeting. That perhaps there was the possibility of. Attraction, between us." He opens his night-sky eyes again, meets Hob's resolutely. "Had we not been interrupted…" He shakes his head. "I pondered the idea until next we met, anticipating the possibility of. Seeing, where we might have come to. But you named what was between us friendship, you named me lonely; I perceived your words as mockery and acted accordingly. I spent the next century with a surplus of time to wander my own thoughts. They turned to you, Hob Gadling, with regularity. As I expressed when last we met, I regret leaving our previous meeting so abruptly, so harshly. Your friendship is of great value to me. I am content to let it remain friendship, in the interest of keeping it. But I am unwilling to engage with you, who named me 'friend', as I would a lover when I have yet to fully bury the wish. That you might have been my lover in truth."
Hob is desperately trying to keep from bluescreening again and while he's focused on that, his mouth runs along without him. "You never even gave me a name, but you wanted us to be lovers?"
"I am. Aware, of how foolish my wishes—"
"No, oh no. Dream. Love." He absolutely cannot let him think that. "All you ever had to do was ask."
Dream looks at him, starry eyes full of misery with the faintest spark of hope underneath, glimmering with unshed tears. "I. Could not—"
"That was then. Water under the bridge. What about now."
Dream shivers, his more-than-human face wary and pleading and resigned all at once and the last of the fight drains out of Hob. He approaches gently, until he is directly in front of Dream on the edge of the bed again; he half straddles Dream's lap with one foot still on the floor and a bare knee sunk on the mattress beside him, threads both hands into Dream's hair behind his lovely ears, tips his pale face up.
"Ask me now. Please."
Dream's hand settles above his bent knee, a gentle, tentative touch; his eyelashes flutter, and the sound that leaves him steals Hob's breath. That hand travels softly around to grip the back of Hob's thigh, slides hesitantly higher, and then it's Hob making the helpless noise as Dream's fingertips card beautifully through his leg hair, run up beneath the short robe. Dream's spindly black-nailed hand caresses up over his exposed arse cheek, squeezes, and all the while Dream's beguiling uncanny eyes are fixed on him, wet and wondering, full of blossoming hope.
"Hob Gadling." His voice is hushed, almost reverent. "I should like to have you, as my lover. If you are amenable." His face is tipped up, so close between Hob's hands, and Hob.
Hob's shaking. He's actually trembling, pent up, a little scared; daring, as he leans down and his hair falls around them both, hoping—
He brushes his lips to Dream's.
He kisses his Stranger, his friend, his touchstone.
And Dream of the Endless, who is all of those things, kisses him back.
It's nothing like he might have imagined, and ten times as wonderful, and over before he realizes he's ended it.
"Do you mean it." His voice is breathless, the words spoken directly against Dream's mouth. It's a stupid question, in light of the entire conversation gone before and the hand still on his arse, but he can't help asking. This entire turn of events is just too good to be true.
"Yes."
But true it is, apparently, and Hob's heart soars.
"Then. Dream of the Endless. My Stranger. My friend." He presses soft kisses to those plush pink lips between each moniker, dizzy that he's allowed. "Let me add another title to the list, darling. Take me to bed; the suite is ours 'til tomorrow. Let me learn how you would have me. Let me show you how I would treat you. And let me, at long last, name you mine."
= Started: 8/21/24 Drafted: 8/27/24 Posted: 8/30/24
If you're looking for a spicier take on this concept, @delta-pavonis has you covered: Dossier 54392 - please, give it a read, it's delicious.
(and here, have a post-script-y epilogue-exchange of sorts that did not quite fit:)
= "You chose to name yourself Nick Bottom?"
"What better name for a callboy to the supernatural than the bloke who got unwittingly embroiled in a fae lovers' spat and ultimately survived the entire encounter unscathed? Feels pretty relevant to me. Empowering, a bit?"
"Nick Bottom was less 'empowered' than simply lucky, perhaps."
"Perhaps. I'll not turn my nose up at good luck, either. But a name like Bottom in this business is also too good a pun to pass up, and I figure old Shaxberd would approve."
"I believe he would, indeed."
"The irony being that fully half of my clients want me to top them, heh."
"I do not wish to speak of your clients while you are in bed with me."
"Got better uses for my mouth, have you?"
"Other sounds I would prefer to hear from it, yes."
"Fair enough. Why don't you tell me what you want, Mr. Sandman, and see if I can make your dreams come true."
"Must you be so cliché?"
"You love my clich—mmph—"
"Stop. Talking."
"Yes love."
(Dream will tell him about commissioning A Midsummer Night's Dream at some other time 💖)
= Nick Bottom's lines from A Midsummer Night's Dream that lent themselves to the title: I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was and also The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream
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zhongrin · 2 years
Text
newton’s second law of motion
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◇ characters ◇ al haitham (ft. kaveh, cyno, tighnari)
◇ tags ◇ divorced dad al haitham as your ex-hubby, possibly ooc al haitham (?), you have a daughter, al haitham pines on you badly, angst to fluff, crack, kaveh-cyno-tighnari support group ftw, brainrot format with a little fic
◇ a/n ◇ happy birthday you dolt (/aff). i didn't plan to post any birthday fic for him but this thought hit me as soon as i read that silly bday letter. this was supposed to be just a brainrot help-
𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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divorced husband!al haitham who is hit by a revelation over the year he lived separated from you - that he had taken you for granted and he had driven you away by failing to communicate and appreciate you properly.
divorced husband!al haitham who receives a little package from you on his birthday; just a small, store-bought birthday cake. he's reminded of the biting words he said the year before, when he tasted the cake you made with your daughter. in hindsight, it was perfectly normal for a three-year-old to mistake salt for sugar. in hindsight, he should have known to hold his tongue. in hindsight, he could have done better than just stare as your daughter cried in your arms.
divorced husband!al haitham who knows that you were just being nice with all these small gestures. for updating him about how your daughter is doing in school every month. it was all a formality of sorts and it was an agreement you had when you broke your marriage. but he can't help the hope that sparked within his chest when he sees your handwriting and hears your voice on the rare meet-ups you organize.
divorced husband!al haitham who admits that you deserve someone better. who resolves to be someone better.
divorced husband!al haitham who picks up that parenting book he abandoned and buys new ones because four-year-olds are different from newborn babies. people stare at him in awe when he starts attending the parenting-themed seminars, and it's like he's back in his akademiya days, taking notes and analyzing research journals.
divorced husband!al haitham who, to his previous roommate's surprise, lets himself be dragged into the 'severely unproductive' weekly tcg game meeting. he silently sits and listens to cyno unconsciously bragging about the warm home he built with his spouse, tighnari proudly retelling story after story about collei taking the lead of the forest rangers, and kaveh gushing about the love of his life.
divorced husband!al haitham who, to everyone's shock, asks for their advice on how to rebuild what he's lost, who for once listens to kaveh as he guides him to emphatize more and shows him the values of white lies when used properly, as inefficient as he though it was. soon enough it turns into a full-on lecture at one corner of lambad's tavern - tighnari had brought out a whiteboard out of nowhere, and even cyno who was at first skeptical about giving him a second chance was animatedly giving his own two mora to avoid worsening the disaster that is the scribe's love life.
divorced husband!al haitham who picks up a new pen and delicately writes a letter with the ink of your favorite color, intending to ask you to meet at the library because he wanted to "further encourage our daughter's newly-found interest in reading". he's hoping it would show his sincerity (yes, he did listen when you absentmindedly told him about your daughter on the last update meeting) and imply that he wishes to make amends (because he remembers not taking much interest in the more 'trivial' things that concerns your daughter when he should have).
divorced husband!al haitham who does not understand why you didn't reply to him, and so he proceeds to recite the letter, word-by-word, to the curious table of the same friends from a week ago, their tcg match long forgotten. kaveh throws a deck of cards at him. cyno slumps back to his chair with a steely expression, arms crossed. tighnari sighs and bemoans about how al haitham is the worst student he's ever had thus far. kaveh rubs his face with his palms - "alright. okay. alright. look. clearly one lecture isn't enough. we could just. we could try again. hey, at least he tried!"
divorced husband!al haitham who wakes up the morning after because of his doorbell, with barely two hours of sleep, coffee-less (you used to make him coffee and he does not understand what he's missing because he could never make them taste the same), grumpy (he remembers the way you would laugh and boop his nose whenever he feels like this), darkened eye bags under his hazy green eyes (which you used to try and will away with a kiss; it never worked but he wishes you were there to do it still), opening the door of his abode (the house feels far too big without you) and promptly almost collapsing from shock at the sight.
it's you.
divorced husband!al haitham who fumbles with his words; his brain isn't working properly and his composure is nowhere in sight. you're holding your daughter's hand and you're looking at him from head to toe with a frown. he asks why you were here. you tell him icily that it was your scheduled date for the usual monthly update; you thought he would have appreciated you bringing your daughter this time. his brain stops. his heart swells. his chest feels warm.
divorced husband!al haitham who invites you in and blushes when you see the remnants of last night's "lectures". kaveh's silly flowchart ('when you should shut your mouth') is still present on the whiteboard. tighnari's books about child development created little towers around the coffee table. cyno's headpiece is still lying on the sofa. and his own copious notes are all over the place.
"what kind of.... project.... are you working on, exactly?"
his brain's broca's area must have been terribly damaged from all the 'scenario exercises' kaveh put him through last night, because what was supposed to be a 'pay no mind to it, it's merely a personal interest of mine' somehow turned into a sheepishly spoken: "i wanted to become a better partner and father."
and you must have thought he was crazy, too, with that look of utter shock on your face. al haitham decides to change the subject. he sees the way your daughter is eyeing the pantry - more specifically, the cabinet that used to store her snacks, and maybe it's all the books and seminars he attended but somehow he understands.
"have you... had breakfast?"
"..... no," your tone is cold and you avert your eyes. the implication is not lost on him. you had not planned to stay for long.
"i see. would you like to procure-" he pauses, gazes towards your daughter, remembering what he read - and he drops to his knees so he can be of a similar eye level with the young child. when he speaks next his tone is higher, softer, and you almost can't believe what you're witnessing, "-would you and mommy like to get some food with daddy?"
"..... yes."
his little angel's voice is barely above a whisper and slightly unsure, but it still makes a genuine smile spread onto his lips for the first time in...... what seemed like forever. he directs his gaze up towards you, like some kind of a lost puppy seeking permission from its owner. you throw one last glance at his notes and sigh before nodding stiffly.
"alright.... you look like you badly need coffee anyway."
divorced husband!al haitham who, despite the tiredness in his bones, readily escorts the two of you out of the house after quickly scribbling a note for the three guests sleeping on a pile in the guest room.
divorced husband!al haitham who asks his daughter about where she'd like to eat and agrees immediately upon her answer despite knowing that their destination would only serve that trashy coffee he loathes with his whole life (and when you ask him again whether he's really okay with her choice, he says yes even though he wanted to say no).
divorced husband!al haitham who asks you about the latest updates on your job and tells you that he thinks it's admirable, for you to balance caring for their child while also having such a stable career (you did not express the need to be getting constructive criticism on how to further improve your career and branch out your skills, so he decides to keep his mouth shut).
divorced husband!al haitham who stumbles, trips, and is still horribly clumsy as he paves a path back to walk beside you and your daughter. but he tries. and he hopes to spend his next birthday with you, your daughter, a kitchen that looked like an oven has exploded, and a deformed cake.
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and as the front door closes, the three guests high-fives each other in a small circle from behind the slightly opened door of the guest room.
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea
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queenshelby · 7 months
Text
An Illicit Affair
Part 21: CAUGHT
Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)
Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity
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Inside the kitchen, Cillian poured you two a glass of wine and heated up the food while you watched, marveling at how easy it was to be around him. It wasn't just his charm or experience, but the passion that seemed to radiate from him. It was infectious and invigorating.
As you sat at the dining table, picking at the delectable dishes laid in front of you, the two of you started talking, about everything and nothing. You discussed everything from poetry to life choices, the conversation flowing naturally, almost effortlessly, as if you had known each other for years.
And then, eventually, he brought up his wife and the fact that, on the morning of this very same day, he had phoned his lawyer.
"I am filing for divorce," he confessed with a solemnity that turned the atmosphere heavy with a looming sense of foreboding. "I just can't do it anymore," he sighed heavily but with a hint of excitement in his voice. 
His words hung in the air, weighty and inevitable. You sipped from your wine glass, feeling a sudden chill seize you. 
"Please tell me that it's not because of me," you demanded, your voice wavering slightly.
"No," he reassured you, grabbing your hand across the table. "It's just...I can't pretend anymore. I can't keep pretending that I love her when I don't and, after all she has done to me over the years, I am certain that, leaving her, is what I need in order to be happy," he confessed.
His words pierced your heart, and you felt a sense of guilt creeping up inside you. Despite his reassurance, you couldn't deny the fact that you had somehow played a significant role in the end of Cillian and his wife's relationship, although it wasn't intentional. Your affair had started off as a simple short-lived escape from reality for both of you, but now that you confessed your feelings for one another, it was much more than that.
"What are you thinking?" Cillian asked, his voice soft and soothing.
"I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't deny the guilt you felt over what was happening. "She might try to ruin your career," you warned, causing Cillian to nod.
"I know, but like I said, I cannot keep going like this," he confessed. "Life is too short, and I refuse to let her dictate how I should live mine."
You both fell silent for a moment, the gravity of the situation soaking in. The thought of Cillian's name being dragged through the mud was unbearable - even if you felt confident that he was making the right decision.
"What about us?" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Will there ever be an 'us'?" you wanted to know, causing Cillian to gaze at you, his intense blue eyes meeting your own.
"I want there to be an 'us' Y/N," he affirmed, squeezing your hand. "But I have to take care of this first," he explained, a solemn expression crossing his face. "And to tell you the truth, I do not know how I would ever explain this to Max," Cillian sighed, seeing that until just a year ago you were dating him, his very own son.
"I know. It seems like an impossible situation," you agreed, a twinge of sadness creeping into your voice. "But once you finalise your divorce, we may be able to come up with a plan to address this," you told him, a determined glint in your eyes.
Cillian nodded solemnly, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"I could not possibly ask you to wait for me, Y/N. You are young and deserve better than someone like me, who comes with baggage," Cillian admitted, a look of regret flashing across his handsome features as the weight of his words settled between them.
"Cillian, I am in love with you," you declared before taking in a deep breath. "And it's not something that I thought would happen when we started sleeping with each other, but it did," you confessed with all the sincerity you could muster. "So, I think me waiting for you to sort out this mess might be worthwhile. Despite, we can still go on like this, in secret, for the time being," you suggested, your voice hopeful.
Cillian's eyes lit up, his surprise palpable. "You'd do that for me?"
"I would," you replied, a determined expression on your face. "But only if you promise that we will work towards something real after all this is over."
"I promise," he assured you, cupping your cheek before placing a tender kiss on your lips. The promise of a future together was exhilarating, yet tinged with uncertainty. You knew it would not be easy, but the thought of being with Cillian - of sharing yourself fully with him - made the struggle worthwhile.
After you finished your meal and settled on the sofa together, the hours crept towards midnight. The two of you were cocooned in a blanket of warmth, your legs tangled together as you shared stories of your lives.
You relished in the opulence of his penthouse suite, the skyline of London bathed in an ethereal glow as the city lulled to sleep outside. The sounds of the city seemed to fade away until only the gentle hum of his heater filled the silence. Your head rested on Cillian's chest, lulled into a peaceful trance by the steady beat of his heart.
You glanced up at the clock, noticing the time had slipped past the midnight hour. Reluctantly, you detangled yourself from him and stood up.
"I should get going," you mumbled, stifling a yawn. "Early start tomorrow."
Cillian grabbed your hand, his face unreadable in the dim light. "Can't I convince you to stay?"
You hesitated, the desire to spend the night beside him battling with the responsibilities that awaited you in the morning. 
"I guess I could get to work straight from here," you mused aloud, glancing up as a sly grin spread across Cillian's face. He tugged gently at your hand, pulling you towards him and trapping you within the circle of his arms.
"Good, then stay," he murmured, nuzzling your hair.
A sigh escaped your lips and you leaned into his embrace, feeling as though you could remain in this moment for an eternity. 
"Okay," you agreed, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. "But only if you promise me something," you declared, looking him directly in the eyes.
"Anything," he vowed, his voice low and ragged with desire.
"You will let me sleep," you giggled. "No fooling around," you commanded, your voice barely audible.
Cillian merely chuckled at your words, kissing the top of your head affectionately. "How about a little more fooling around and then I will let you go to sleep," he teased, nipping at your earlobe with his teeth.
"Hmm, not fair," you whispered, closing your eyes and loving the sensation of his lips on your sensitive ear.
He placed his hand underneath your chin, tilting it upwards slightly. His lips found yours in a soft kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. You opened your mouth to allow him entrance, the taste of wine still on his tongue as it danced with yours. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you.
Despite your exhaustion, your body immediately responded to his touch, a slow burn working its way through your veins as arousal built within you.
"I am going to be sore tomorrow, won't I?" you joked, pulling back from his embrace and smiling up at him.
Cillian chuckled softly, his arms still wrapped around your waist. "That's the idea. I want you to remember this moment tomorrow, so you know how much I want you," he admitted, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
You shivered, your body aching for his touch, but your mind still tried to resist, knowing that the morning would soon be upon you.
"The sheer thought of being tired and sore from having been fucked by you all night is quite the turn on," you said, biting your lower lip in anticipation.
"Oh, yeah? That's good to know," Cillian murmured, capturing your lip between his teeth for a playful nibble.
His hands slid up your back, lifting the hem of your shirt and caressing the bare skin beneath. You gasped, your body tingling with anticipation.
His t-shirt came off next, revealing his toned but slim frame and the smattering of freckles across his shoulders.
You couldn't help but trace the line of freckles with your fingers, savoring the feeling of his bare skin against yours.
Cillian then captured your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your mouth.
You yielded to him, allowing yourself to become lost in the passion of the moment. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath your fingertips.
Despite your earlier reservations, your body begged for more. Each brush of his skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine. His cock hardened against your leg, the sensation making you gasp and, by this point, you were so engrossed within each other that you didn't realize that Max had walked through the front door.
"What the fuck!" Max exclaimed, his eyes widening in horror as he realized the scene that was unfolding before him after his mother had sent him to Cillian's apartment to get something for her, knowingly, claiming that his father wasn't home. 
To be continued...
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littledollll · 8 months
Note
I have a request!
Lucifer sitting on the bed while their partner (reader) shows them how they look in different lingerie and asking which one they like better
Take your time and take care 🫶
Fashion show
Lucifer Morningstar x reader
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A/n: this was so FUN to write man. I’ve had daydreams about this before actually. I love it here. I hope you enjoy<3
Warnings: touching, lingerie, aludes to sex, nipple play, praise.
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“Look who’s finally back..” Lucifer says with a smile as they spot you come in through the heavy throneroom doors. You came in with a returning smile and a few bags in your hands, which were quickly taken off you and dropped off in your shared room by one of the maids.
“Happy to see me?” “Overjoyed. Every second here without you is torture.”
“Well you can’t blame hell for being hell!” You mused as you approached the devil.
“I can, and I shall. I’m always happy to be accompanied by you, my love.”
“Will you let me put on a little show for you?” You smiled as you moved into your devil’s lap. “A show?” They asked in an amused tone, tilting their head as one of their hands caressed your cheek.
“Mhm!” You nodded. Nuzzling against it, you placed a kiss on their palm. “A show. So you can see all the lovely clothes I brought back from the living.”
“Ah, a fashion show, just for me? I do believe I would enjoy that.” They nodded as you moved off their lap, keeping a hand on theirs as you quickly ushered them to your private quarters. They followed along without issue.
Once you arrived, Lucifer was a bit forcefully pushed to sit on the bed, your excitement getting the better of you. “That’s no way to treat your lord, angel.” Lucifer said with a quirked brow, tilting their head curiously your way.
You loved it so much when they did that adorable headtilt.
“It’s no way to treat my lover! I apologize sincerely. If my fashion show doesn’t make it up to you, I’ll let you choose a reward as compensation.” You played along, placing a hurried kiss to their cheek before running along into your unnecessarily large closet to get changed, the bags already being placed inside.
“Pick a color!” You yelled from the closet. Lucifer chuckled. “Any color?”
“Well I don’t have every color. But I might have the one you pick! Or something similar..”
“Oh alright.” They entertained.
“I’ll say... red.” Of course they would. Who is Lucifer without their signature red, black and white colors?
“Perfect choice, my love. As always.” You were more than prepared for this.
You slipped on the most conservative one you had first. ‘Slipped’ is the wrong word for it, considering these things were half impossible to put on. But you managed.
A simple deep red, lacy, one piece with quite the lot of holes, but not in the necessary places.
You looked at yourself in the mirror once, and then thrice to make sure everything was as it should, before you made a rather dramatic strut out of the closet doors.
Lucifer’s smile reached their eyes at your behavior. The piece suited you beautifully but it was all about how you wore it. “Oh so this is how it’s going to be?”
“I told you, red was a very wise color.” You nodded and they motioned you to come closer.
As you did, Lucifer’s hands found your waist, where the lingerie has the cut outs to show your stunning skin. “Very nice… I’m already loving every second of this.” The touch made a shiver go up your spine, and you looked at their face, studying the fit on your body.
They turned you in their arms, getting a full view of what you had on. The back was pretty and simple aswell. Not much revealed but still appreciated by them. “Delightful. You might be pardoned for pushing me onto the bed because of this.”
“Oh no don’t forgive me yet, I have a few more!” Lucifer hummed. “How many is a few?”
“Mm.. it’s a surprise!” You smiled, turning to face them once more. “A surprise… Alright I’ll bite. Go on and get changed.”
And so you went. You very purposely picked out lingerie in their three colors, of course. So you had two more left to show. And you’d leave the white for last.
Next up was a cute black one. A two piece. It had a big, Star-shaped cut out in the center of the chest, your nipples just peaking from the corners of it. It was slightly uncomfortable, you’d admit. The way the fabric rubbed against you was providing a special type of feeling.
The bottoms were a little more risky, having a star pattern all over that showcased almost all of your skin.
“Turn for me, angel.” You did as asked and Lucifer’s hands moved down your hips and ass, which was on full display, giving a gentle squeeze. “Now this.. is a beautiful view. What made you choose the stars, sweetheart?”
“Isn’t it just adorable! And well.. you are the Morningstar. I thought it fit quite nicely.”
Lucifer nodded along as you spoke. “Yes, yes it does. Very lovely choice this one. I hope to be seeing it again very soon.”
You giggled, pulling yourself away from their arms. “Alright, one more left. Then you’ll get to touch and hold me all you want.”
“I like that idea. Go ahead, angel.”
The white one went on easier, perhaps because there was significantly less fabric to mess with. This one was quite the piece. The most revealing you had, definitely.
Lucifer’s jaw was practically on the floor when you stepped out. It was a tree piece, the bra could barely be considered a bra, it was more like a few thin straps barely holding together. For only decoration since your nipples were revealed by small heart shaped cut outs. The lower half was once again barely held up by some tiny string on each side that went over your hips, your breasts on full display, and a bigger heart shaped cut out, was exposing your mound.
You didn’t bother to wait for them to call you closer, instead you freely moved towards them, giving a little twirl to show all of it. The backside was basically naked if not for a few straps that held the garment together. And what caught their eye for a moment was the pearly and white garter you had wrapped around your thigh.
“You saved the best for last.” Lucifer said after regaining their composure. Their eyes practically eating you up as you stood before them. You hummed. “Do you really think so?” Lucifer nodded quickly. Their hands gripping on your skin, which was far from gentle but very much welcome. “Yes, definitely.”
“The white looks beautiful on your skin… it’s decorating your body just so nicely. Not hiding a thing from me but giving me more to see, yes. This is certainly my favorite.” And how they could’ve continued rambling on about its perfection for years to come.
“What a cute little thing… shall I slide it off with my teeth?” Lucifer murmured as they snapped the garter around your thighs, giving you a small sting. “Later, maybe…”
“No. Now. Right now.” Their voice showed urgency as they pulled you to straddle just one of their thighs. The feeling of your bare cunt against them could send them straight back to heaven.
Lucifer’s lips were quick to meet your chest. Warm mouth wrapping around your soft nipples that were just so readily available to them. They delighted in the way you gasped in pleasure, tangling your hands into their hair and holding them against your chest.
“Oh I-“ you released a shaky breath, closing your eyes. “I believe I’ve been convinced…”
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