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#until my vacation is over in a few days then who knows work will probably murder me again
syrasenturi · 1 year
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i’m unstoppable
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rot my teeth, melt these cotton candy lips, i'd let you; left this trail of breadcrumb broken hearts so you'd follow me home.
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js1 x reader: the fisherman puts the heartbreaker out of commission.
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (f on m), idk like marking and lots of limbs and obviously we've been warned about the talking. i know i'm forgetting a lot but all my usual suspects. (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: favorites! what's new? probably nothing, right? (love a self-reference). this should serve as a warning for all of you - if you drop an anonymous ask, no matter how simple, you are running the risk of me emerging from my cave of teeth with a 14k story about someone i barely noticed until recently. and i may, consequently, become weirdly infatuated with a random third line winger (tf11) and force him into my story. my obvious disclaimers of lack of realism and weirdly flowery language and crazy plotholes and status as fiction are still very much on the table. of course i know nothing about being a private chef, or alaska, for that matter. so, uh, congrats to js1 on being an all-star, i guess? this is your prize! i posted about what's going on in my world recently - there's a lot, it's a lot, and just know that no matter what, what i feel most for you is gratitude. thank you. tell me what you think, i live for it. takeaway for today - your past does not determine who you are, what you are capable of. no matter how many guys insist it does, your body count and/or experience, or lack thereof, even, is irrelevant to the lovely person you are. you are a treasure, and you deserve to be treated accordingly. may we all find partners who think they're dreaming when they look at us. my snakes told me to tell your snakes they have a crush on them. okay, until next time, go canucks. all my love).
summers, for you, had always been something magical.
when you were young, they meant lake house vacations and playing tennis with your siblings and strawberry shortcake, grass stains and popsicles. when you were in school, they meant working as a line cook at a country club, a job and space that felt all your own, they meant salty beach days with your friends and pulling the caddies (the cute ones, at least) behind the clubhouse, kisses that tasted like gatorade.
now, a bit older, summers meant something different, but they were still magical. during the year, you worked as a personal chef for the same lovely family, the montgomerys, that you had built a trusting relationship with - a family that travelled extensively over the summer, leaving you, each may, to look for temporary work elsewhere.
you took work from whatever family offered you the best gig any given summer, usually on a referral from your main employer, usually a place like nantucket or charleston or something like that.
last summer, spent in the hamptons, you cooked for the family of mrs. montgomery's best friend. it had been a season of fish tacos and roasted artichoke salad and berry cobbler, cut with fireworks and white linen dresses and aperol spritzes.
this summer, mr. montgomery's coworker, mr. kelly, had hired you to keep him and his family fed for the season while they summered up at their alaskan vacation home.
so, this job, it wasn't new, not really. you were a seasoned professional in the world of being a private chef, in recipe building and gardening and plate presentation.
this place, however, this small town in alaska, was completely and utterly unfamiliar. you had met the kellys a few times, so you knew the parents and their adorable young son, but that was where the recognition would end. the rest was new, foreign.
you loved the prospect of learning a new place, though, like earning a new badge on a girl-scout sash. your mind hummed on the flight over as you thought about different seasonal produce, a new set of tastes and preferences to account for, techniques for preparing the seafood that would surely be spectacular.
a new set of streets to know the names of, a new community to put faces to, a new routine to settle into.
summers were magical, for you, they always had been, and you knew this one would be no different.
this was very much not the hamptons, though, you realized, very quickly upon landing at the tiny airport, which had only a few gates. which was fine, you considered, you didn't need to work at some crazy expensive beach town, or anything, but this place was kind of, well, scarce, maybe?
the taxi ride to the house was fast, a blur of main street and trees and not much else. finally, you arrived, a flurry of suitcases and thank yous and hair in your face.
the kellys welcomed you, all open arms from the mrs and kind smiles from the mr and timid waves from their son, stanley. they showed you to your room, gave you a quick tour, left you to settle in before the work started tomorrow.
exhausted from travel, you fell asleep quickly and dreamlessly.
the next morning, you awoke to the sun streaming in through the window, warm and lazy. after getting ready, you made your way downstairs, had your planning meeting with the family.
they told you their preferences, the important dates of the summer, when people would be coming over. thankfully, there were no allergies. they showed you to their garden.
"we'd love if you got some use out of it," mrs. kelly said, a gentle hand on your shoulder, "lord knows i don't give it enough attention."
"we're so excited to have you," mr. kelly said, "thanks again for doing this. see you for dinner?"
you called out your confirmation as you grabbed your market bags, began the five-minute walk to downtown, to the pier. the walk was peaceful, the air pleasant and fresh.
you made your way through main street slowly and methodically, learning the stores and their energies, their offerings. the market, sure, that would be where you spent a majority of your time, but you tried out the bookstore, too, the coffee shop, the vintage store.
before you knew it, your arms were loaded with bags, overflowing with produce and ingredients, a couple books, a bag of coffee beans, a vintage silk scarf.
your arms were full, but you still decided to make one last stop, at the fish market, all the way at the end of main street.
the smell made you scrunch up your nose, if only slightly, as you pushed the door open with your hip, heard the bell ring over your head.
you made your way to the glass display case, surveyed all the different seafood over ice. you were thinking salmon, for tonight, something simple that everyone would like.
you picked your head up, looked behind the counter, found nobody to help you. "uh, hello?" you called out. "anyone home?"
almost immediately, two tall figures came barreling out of the back, through the double doors. two men, bottom half in fishing gear, the rubbery protective pants attached to suspenders, which laid over black long sleeves.
"what's up?" one of them, the dirty blonde, said, his voice deep, almost cartoonish.
"hi," you said, "i'm looking for some salmon."
"didn't look very hard, did you?" the blonde said, teasing, nodding down to where the mass of pink fish laid atop the plane of ice. he cut a look to his coworker, who's gaze hadn't dropped from you since he came through the door. "but, uh, i think my friend jeremy's gonna help you out," he said, "i, uh, gotta do somethin' in the back real quick."
the blonde made a quick and forced exit, forcing you to turn and face the other man behind the counter.
"okay?" you said, halfway confused. "you're jeremy, then?"
there was a pause potent with awkwardness as he stood there, blinking at you.
a pause during which you realized, however slowly, that this man across the counter was sort of beautiful. beautiful in a way you weren't used to, beautiful in a way your men of the summer had not been before.
it was sort of an inside joke now, between you and your friends. how, no matter where you were, what job you were working, you'd have a "summer boyfriend," a guy with a finish line, someone pretty and nice enough to hang around until the sun set over the blood orange summer skyline one final time. your best friend joked that it was a seasonal position, almost like an internship.
the caddies you went for when you were a little younger were division one golfers, with all of the laser-focus and goody-two-shoes attitudes to match.
last summer, in the hamptons, it'd been a beachfront bartender named mat, all easy charm and comic book facial structure. he'd cared a little too much about his physique, said a little too much about what you'd cook for him, but he'd also been really sweet, sometimes, letting you borrow his jackets whenever you got cold on the beach.
jeremy, though, he didn't look like the laced-up amateur golfers, and he didn't seem like the discipline-fueled superhero, either. he was tall, for sure, tall enough that your neck craned slightly to get a good look at him, and wide in the shoulders.
it was his face that really got you, though - even with that sharp jaw, he just looked so soft, so gentle, so tender, like he wore every emotion across his face completely and utterly shamelessly. his eyes had welled up with something you had the sneaking suspicion was just kindness, brimming on his waterline, threatening to spill forward like salty tears.
you waved a hand in front of his face, cleared your throat, felt the slightest of blushes across your nose. "earth to jeremy?"
you watched consciousness creep into his eyes, cloud over the awe that was previously there. he gave a rigorous shake of his head, as if to snap himself out of a trance. "sorry, beauty," he said, and his voice was so genuine, so unabashed, it made you smile, your stomach turn. "must think 'm a real space cadet, eh?"
you shifted the bags in your hands. "well, you did just zone out for a bit," you said.
he let out a laugh, and it bubbled out of him, uninhibited. "my fault," he admitted, "i was thinking, 'woah, am i in a dream right now?' and then i was like 'wait, no, i don't dream about work,' but you look straight 'outta a daydream, beauty, i swear it."
his manner of speaking dripped with honesty, like every aspect of his thoughts was completely on the table, like you were someone entitled to knowing exactly what was going on in his head.
you averted your gaze at his confession. when was the last time someone had made you feel practically timid?
when you spoke, your voice felt unsure. "whatever you say," you told him. "maybe you could help me, now? i-"
"anything," he said, completely stone-faced and serious, which forced a laugh from your throat.
"right," you said, a slight smile quirking up on your lips. "i'm hoping to get some salmon for dinner tonight?"
he hummed, a sound you felt in your chest. your fingers twitched. "you cook, too?" he asked, sounded almost pained as he leaned his head onto a hand, the other flat on the counter.
you nodded absentmindedly. "'m a private chef. anyways, need enough for four, five people, maybe?"
"at your service, beauty," he said, in that funny voice, and then he shot you a wink before snapping his gloves on. the tips of your ears must have been a vengeful pink, at this point.
as he prepared the fish for you to take home, weighing it and wrapping it in paper, you set your bags down on the ground, stretched your arms out above your head, your body stiff from holding so many things.
"that's a 'lotta bags, there," jeremy said, nodding towards the floor. "what're you hoarding in 'em?" his smile pulled at his mouth, revealed a flash of white teeth that was nothing but teasing, kind.
you ran a palm across the back of your neck. "it's my first day on the job," you said, "first dinner for the new family, want to make a good impression."
he gave a light-hearted scoff. "ever made a bad impression?"
you rolled your eyes at him. "you don't know me, jeremy," you reminded him, not mean, almost a sing-songy melody in your voice.
he put up one hand in mock-surrender. "'course, you're right," he said, "just find it hard to believe, 's all."
"okay, sweet-talker," you chided, shifting on your feet as he finished wrapping up your fish.
his grin was triumphant. "think 'm sweet, do you, beauty?"
you handed over your payment, ran your tongue along your teeth as he gently took it from your fingers. you let that confidence well up in your gaze, willed the smile that worked on everyone.
the one that convinced caddies that maybe they could take a quick break, that maybe they deserved to have a little fun, the one that convinced the bartender everyone had lusted over that you were the only girl in the world, that no one else was worthy of his attention.
"oh, you'd rot my teeth, jeremy," you teased as you slotted the paper package into a bag, took back your credit card, loaded your arms full again, made for the door.
you looked over your shoulder one last time, found him leaning on his palm, again, watching you, practically with a wistful sigh. "'m not rotten," he said, gaze alight with something dangerous.
you smiled at him. "goodbye, rotten boy," you said, leaving as the bell rung above you, feeling his gaze on your back the entire time, until the air around you smelled less of the sea and more of the forest, like tree-sap and soil.
you fell into a routine quickly, like you had planned on, like you were so used to doing. you prepped and planned and worked on recipes. you cooked and cleaned up after yourself and looked after the garden with diligence. you spent your free mornings walking to get coffee, your free weekends exploring the nearby beaches and lakes and trails.
you gained the trust of the kellys, until they treated you like family. until mr. kelly was asking when your crabcakes would be making another appearance, until mrs. kelly was swearing there was sorcery involved in your strip steak, until little stanley would sneak into the kitchen when you were making dessert, just because he knew there would be some cookie dough to spare, maybe a finger swipe of brownie batter.
until the garden was looking almost complete, the pantries and fridge fully stocked, until the menu had a fairly regular rotation.
you made your first friend a few weeks into the summer, one morning, waiting in the short line for your daily coffee. you had long ago come to terms with the fact that, yes, it would probably be cheaper to make coffee at home, but you'd soak the economic losses to support a small business. coffee was one thing you'd spend money on, no matter where you were.
so, this morning, you were second in line, which should have meant a short wait, but the middle-aged man in front of you was taking a truly devastating amount of time to make a decision.
the poor teenager working the register was trying not to be rude, you could tell, but after a couple minutes, the growing line had begun to grow restless.
you were about to tap the man on the shoulder, but the woman behind you, maybe your age, a bit older, beat you to it.
"jesus christ, jerry!" she bit out, "just get your regular, or i'll run an article about how someone so indecisive shouldn't own a hardware store!" she huffed out an angry breath, shook her head as a scared jerry ordered a drip coffee with cream.
you met the woman's eye, and she smiled at you. "hey, new kid," she said, sticking out her hand. "i'm tj, local paper."
impressed, you shook her hand, gave her your name. "local paper, eh?" you asked, "lots of coffee shop and hardware store headlines?"
she laughed as you stepped forward and ordered your americano, motioned for her to order, too. "we don't get a lot of blockbuster news, around here," she said, making to pay, but you held out a hand to stop her. "you're probably just about the most interesting news we've had all year, since the frederic's dog got lost."
you hummed. "i could use you on my side, tj," you mused, "could help me get up to speed with this place."
she tilted her head, appeared in thought for a second before eventually nodding. "sure, new kid, i'll get you all caught up," she agreed. "and not just because you bought my coffee."
you laughed. "anytime," you offered.
"say, same time tomorrow?" she asked, headed for the door, swinging her shoulder bag around. "meet here?"
you agreed and waved goodbye. she saluted you, let the door close behind her.
"that girl's a terror," jerry warned you, careful.
"good," you told him. "all the best girls are."
as promised, you met up with tj the next morning, bought her coffee with your own before making your way up main street.
"so, i'm sure you're already familiar, because you've been here for a bit," she said, in step with you, "but we'll go over the basics."
"honestly, i don't know much," you said, "i'm at the market almost every day, every other place i've been only once or twice. and besides the kellys, you're the first local person i know by name." a flash of molten brown eyes and a tender smile blazed across your mind like a comet. "well, second."
tj's gaze shimmered, and you guessed this was the curiosity that makes someone want to be a reporter. "who else?" she asked.
"no one, really," you said, "this guy in the fish market, jeremy, but we talked for like a second."
she nodded like she understood. "oh, the fish market," she sighed. "the two biggest goofballs in town." she shot you a look. "don't worry, we'll make a stop there."
"oh, we don't have to, i'll go back eventually, mr. kelly's been wanting crab, anyways-"
"we'll make a stop there," she repeated, and that was that. first, though, she introduced you to the owner of the grocery store, an old woman who whispered to you that all the best stuff gets delivered on wednesdays.
next was the pizza place, and all the teenagers who seemed to be running it. "luke likes jenna, but jenna has a thing for her friend kayla," tj whispered to you as the door shut behind you.
"this is the kind of inside scoop you're privy to, eh?" you asked, amused.
she shrugged. "it's a real mixed bag. i'd never, like, run a story on the love lives of high schoolers, but everything is significant in a town this small."
you hummed, supposing she was right.
between the vintage store and the post office, she asked about your history, where you were from, your job.
"sounds like a pretty sweet gig," she said with an impressed sort of shrug.
you nodded. "it's a lot of work, but it's pretty awesome," you said, honestly. you loved what you did, and felt very lucky to be doing it.
"come back soon, girls!" mailwoman mindy called out after you both. you waved your thanks.
eventually, after your head was overcrowded with insider information and useless gossip all the same, you and tj stood in front of the fish market, the smell making your palms sweat with the memory of last time.
when was the last time a guy made you nervous? you shivered the thought away as tj pushed open the door.
"right, so this is the frederic's business, has been for decades," she said, "boys! show yourselves!"
on cue, the two men from last time shouldered through the double doors with the same lack of gracefulness.
"good morning, sunshine," the blonde said, almost taunting, looking right at tj, "to what do we owe this great pleasure?"
your friend looked particularly annoyed, all of a sudden. "'m giving new kid a tour," she said, gesturing to you, "she says she's been here, but i figured you probably didn't introduce yourself."
"right, as always, you sleuther," he said, making up the word, before turning to you. "i'm trent. and i remember you." he smirked, nodded to his coworker. "guy's been moanin' and cryin' 'bout when you'd come back."
"nice to officially meet you, trent," you said, giving him your name before finally allowing yourself to look at jeremy, whose gaze you'd felt like the sun on your face since he entered. he was every bit as beautiful, as genuine, as painstakingly tender as you'd remembered. "hey, jeremy." your words came out softer than you meant them to.
"hey, beauty," he replied, almost disbelieving, his hair just a bit shaggier than you remembered.
his smile was something brutal.
your grin was sly as you rolled your neck to the side, let his gaze drip over you greedily, but never shamefully.
tj cleared her throat. "well, not much of anything interesting happens on this end of the pier," she said, to which trent placed a wounded hand over his heart.
"no gossip for me, tj?" you asked, almost surprised, but not quite. these two seemed like open books, if jeremy's telling gaze was anything to go by. not to mention the fondness that had invaded trent's eyes when looking at your new friend, the way your eyes settle on your science class crush in middle school.
"you'll tell me something useful eventually, won't you, boys?" tj asked.
"guess you'll have to keep coming back, then. to find out," was trent's smug reply.
you weren't listening to their banter, really, though, not anymore, because you had drifted closer to jeremy, felt yourself walk over to him as if pulled by some thread. until you were leaning forward on the counter, like you were about to tell him a secret. until you could see each of his dark lashes, the light smattering of freckles on his nose.
"been moanin' and cryin', eh?" you teased, little more than a whisper, tilting your head at him.
"wouldn't've had to," he said, but it came out like a whine. "if you'd've come back to see me."
what would it be like, to be just, so, so honest? with others, with yourself? so honest, it rendered you just about speechless. almost.
you gave him that smile. "rotten boy," you said, watched his gaze become drenched in corn syrup. "so impatient, hm?"
"when do i get to see you again?" he asked, undeterred, not unaffected but so beautifully unembarrassed in his focus on the more, the next.
"soon," was all you said. he gave you a pout that you wanted to bite down on.
"alright, we're off," tj said, her voice pulling you from the daydream you had settled into. "when you've got something i can use, you know where to find me, frederic."
"you can use me anytime, tj!" he pronounced her name like tee-j, smiled as she rolled her eyes.
"good to meet you, trent," you said, "jeremy, i'll see you around."
"not if i see you first, beauty!" his goofy voice called out after you.
as luck would have it, you didn't even have to wait for the weekend to see him again. because, the universe, you were convinced, was trying to force you closer, closer, closer to this tall, kind, man with eyes that glittered. and what was there to do, really, except say thank you?
stanley, whom you had come to grow close to, whose laugh was like a bell, who was quiet but observant and passionate about things like glaciers and rainstorms, had started fishing camp earlier that week, but this afternoon, neither of his parents could pick him up.
"i know it's not in your job description, and i promise it won't be a regular thing," mrs. kelly had said to you over the phone, "but could you swing by the pier super quick to walk him home?"
and of course you had agreed, told her it wasn't any trouble at all.
and it really wasn't any trouble at all, until trouble was staring you straight in the face.
until you stood on the pier, waiting your turn in the pick-up line, and spotted trouble, himself, lifting kids by the waist from the small boat onto the dock.
he sparkled with life, in all of his gear, down to his water-proof boots. he appeared to have made something of a game out of pick up, making a rocket-ship noise as he hoisted kids into the air before setting them down. their laughter rang out in the clear air.
you could feel your heart beat in your chest, suddenly became acutely aware of what you were wearing, how your hair looked. this nervous energy was so foreign to you, it almost felt like a sickness, like a cold.
you scolded yourself to calm down, willed your heartbeat to normalize. these nerves, they weren't you - or at least, they weren't the you that you were used to. they were not the careless summer you that you had come to know and love. they were part of a different you, one that was not as familiar, perhaps one you believed to be not as magical.
"beauty!" you were pulled from your self-conscious daze by jeremy approaching you with agile steps, until he was right in front of you, larger than life, unobstructed by a counter for the first time. before you could do or say anything, his thick arms were around you, pulling you tight against his chest in a hug that muffled your surprise, maybe confusion. you didn't know him, he didn't know you, yet he was doling out hugs like they cost him nothing? "so happy you're here," he said into your hair, and you could have laughed at the absurdity of it all.
maybe you would have, if his embrace didn't feel so right around you, if his chest wasn't so expansive, yet so soft, if you didn't feel so completely safe, practically at peace in his arms. maybe you would have laughed, if there had been anything funny about this.
you rubbed circles into his back with your palm, almost dazed. "you work fishing camp?" you asked into his chest, felt the heat of your exhale in your face.
he didn't let you go, not yet, only pulled his head back slightly so he could talk to you, face to face. "oh, yeah," he said, generous with his smile, "boat captain of the baby minnows, more like."
you couldn't help your smile. "okay, big shot," you said, feigning being impressed. "do i call you captain, then?"
did you imagine the way his eyes darkened, if only for a second, a storm cloud over the sea line? did you imagine the way his embrace grew heated? did you imagine the way you wanted it to?
"think 'd let you call me just about anything," he said, breathy, and the air sparked.
he's not for you, a voice whispered in your head. he's not your seasonal plaything.
you coughed, tried to gracefully step away from him. he let you, didn't seem to be bothered by it. "have you seen stanley?" you asked, your skin itching to feel his arms around you, again.
jeremy smiled. "stan, stan, my bug-saving man? he's 'round here somewhere." he looked around, his gaze finally settling on the boy you were looking for, bent over a rock, looking at some critter that had caught his eye. "there he is." the two of you walked over to him. "not just here to see me, then? pickup takes priority?"
he didn't sound disappointed, not even sad, really, but almost wistful, hopeful. his words upset you, though, which scared you. it scared you, how much you didn't want to hurt his feelings.
it was this scared part of you that took his wide hand in yours and squeezed, which made his gaze cut to yours, wide, surprised. "'m happy to see you," you said, and it felt forbidden to say so, but you did it anyways.
you were happy for the distraction of the kid in front of you as you reluctantly let go of jeremy's hand and crouched down. "hey, stanley," you said, so as not to spook him.
he hummed his hello, pointed to the beetle in the dirt. "look," he said, seemingly content with just observing.
"i see," you said, "pretty cool." you had never been the best at talking to children. somehow, jeremy seemed to sense this.
"guess what, stan?" he said, eyes wide, like him and this small boy were in on some secret.
"what?" stan said.
"your friend over here told me that the first one home gets an extra special dessert tonight," he stage-whispered. stan's eyes grew wide at this information. he promptly took off, in the direction of home.
thank you, you mouthed to jeremy as you made to follow stan.
he ran a hand through his hair. "thankful enough for a helping of dessert tomorrow?" he called out after you.
you scrunched up your face playfully. "rotten!" you said, loud enough for him to hear, which made his bright laugh echo behind you, echo in your head. the feeling of his embrace, of his hand in yours, of his laugh in your mind, it all followed you home, where it stayed.
it lingered for long after, into days spent wrapped up in work, throwing yourself into your everyday tasks so that a certain someone would stay at an arm's length, so that your head might maintain some semblance of clearness.
between shucking corn and braising short rib, though, whenever you weren't entirely preoccupied, your mind would wander to corded shoulders under black long sleeves, to giggly belly-laughs and honesty that made you blush.
it was your wandering mind that had you seeking out stan, when he and his dad got back from fishing camp pick-up. "how was today?" you asked him, gentle, probing.
he shrugged.
"anything to report?" you tried, hoping maybe he'd say something about jeremy, but you'd take an update on the bugs and slithery things he seemed to like so much, too. you pushed a bowl of chocolate pudding and strawberries across to counter to him, placing a finger to your lips in a request for secrecy.
this, stan seemed to understand. "didn't catch anything," he said, digging into his treat. "set all the worms free."
you suppressed a laugh. "was jeremy mad at you?" you knew the answer though, knew it would take a lot more than that to make him anything close to angry.
stan shook his head, and his eyes flickered with a memory. "he told me to tell you about the pier party."
"what's the pier party?" you asked.
another shrug. you figured you'd ask tj about it.
"did he say anything else?" you asked, trying to mask the hope in your gaze, which probably appeared kind of scary to this kid.
stan thought for a moment, then his face scrunched up in distaste. "oh, and he told me to tell you that his hair looked really good today."
"did it?" you asked.
"not really," stan said, and then he laughed, muffled around his spoon, forcing a laugh from you, too.
following clarification with tj about what the pier party was (like a block party, summer tradition, that weekend), you walked downtown with the kellys on saturday night to find the pier all lit up, local vendors having set up stands, music playing from speakers, kids running around everywhere.
the night air was warm and sticky, making your thighs feel damp, your hair heavy on the back of your neck.
stan ran off with some of his friends from camp, the kellys joined a conversation with some people they knew, leaving you to find tj.
you quickly spotted her, leaning on a post next to the cooler, writing something down in her nearly-abused notebook.
"no days off, eh?" you said, amused, when you approached her, making her look up, roll her eyes at you as she shut her notebook, clicked her pen and shoved it into her messy bun.
"inspiration is everywhere," she said, joking, but you could tell there was some truth to her statement. "drink?"
"no, thanks," you said. you had grown sort of disenfranchised with the whole alcohol thing since last summer. not in a pretentious way, or a judgmental way, you didn't mind at all if others drank. you just didn't like the way it made you feel, sort of sluggish and swollen, and as soon as you'd stopped, you realized you didn't really miss it. "what were you writing?"
she opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by a funny, cracking voice. "oh, that's not her work book," trent said, grinning. "that's her diary. 'm sure my name's makin' quite a few appearances."
"in your dreams, frederic," tj chided, shoving the notebook into her bag nonetheless as trent pulled the pen from her hair, tucked it behind his own ear.
of course, where one was, the other was never far behind, so you weren't all that surprised to feel jeremy slide into place beside you. you did become momentarily distracted, though, by the smell of him so close, by the fact that he wasn't wearing his gear, instead opting for casual pants and a t-shirt you thought appeared a little too small.
you swallowed around your distraction, lodged in your throat, at his arms, thick with muscle, his body less-so obstructed by water-proof gear and more-so highlighted by his everyday clothes.
when your eyes finally found his, he looked positively delighted by your distraction.
you shook your head. "sorry," you said immediately.
his smile only grew. "don't be, beauty," he said, giving the arm not holding his beer a hard flex, posing like a bodybuilder, making you laugh. "just get my good side, hm?"
maybe it was his easy humor that had honesty welling up in you like a cresting wave. "every side's your good side," you said, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, willing him to relax. rest, you might as well have whispered into his ear. you can rest, with me. "you're so good."
that's what he seemed to hear it as, anyways, as his gaze melted into something like awe, like wonder, like pure kindness. when he spoke, there was a rasp to it that made you shiver. "want a drink?" he asked.
you weren't embarrassed to shake your head, softly. "'m not into drinking, right now," you said, then realized that could be taken as judgmental. "but i don't mind if you do, like, at all."
his expression didn't change, though, as he held out his beer bottle to trent, snagging his attention from whatever conversation he had roped tj into. "freddy, finish this for me, eh?"
trent just shrugged, took it from his hand, downed it in one go. tj grimaced. "you're gross," she said.
"it's saturday night," trent said with a one-shouldered shrug, as if that explained everything.
"you didn't have to do that," you told jeremy. "i really don't mind."
he just waved you off with a smile as trent and tj continued their argument about being appropriate at a neighborhood party.
the song that floated through the thick air grew slower, maybe something like the last song at a middle school dance. something that had the older couples swaying in time with each other, that had luke gazing across the pier at jenna, who was laughing with kayla. something that had jeremy extending a broad hand to you. "may i have this dance?" he asked, like some old-timey medieval, and you could have laughed, if he didn't appear to be completely serious.
so you only smiled, took his hand, said, "you may."
you set your free hand on his shoulder, tried not to blush at the firmness you felt under your palm as his other hand rested on your waist. you swayed and moved together gently, slowly, in time with the song, the pier under your sandals.
in a moment of indulgence, you dug your hand harder into his shoulder, massaging the muscle there. "a little tense, hm?" you said, meeting his gaze, coated in bliss.
maybe it backfired, a little, though, when he let out a little groan at your touch, at the feeling of your careful hand undoing the knots in the pocket between his shoulder and neck. something stirred in your stomach. you exhaled slowly.
the moment felt oddly charged, a sensual eye in the hurricane of normality around the two of you.
he hummed. "consequence of the job," he said, giving you a slight spin.
"it's tough on you, eh?" you asked, genuine, his touch on your waist distracting. time seemed to melt like a fourth-of-july popsicle.
he shrugged, a movement you felt in your fingers. "'m tough," he said, and you could tell he knew it to be true, knew it to be a keystone of his being.
you nodded, because you knew this, too. "can tell," you whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. "feel it in your hands."
his eyes became glossy, for a moment, like your admission was too much for his consciousness to bare.
this glossy look spurred you on, made the flirt in you emerge with a vengeance. "like to break a bit of a sweat, yeah?"
and he was nodding before you got the words out, feverish, almost desperate.
the music felt far away, up in the clouds, below the surface of the sea. it felt like you two might have been there, too, waltzing in some misty sky dreamland, some foamy ocean kingdom.
it felt perfect, he felt perfect, and when you went to sleep that night, your waist felt cold without his wide palm against it. your fingers twitched without his firm grip around them.
the next day, you called one of your old friends from the city, who had known you for a long time, who was the kind of friend that, no matter how much time had passed from when you last spoke, you would pick up right where you left off, no matter what.
you asked her about how she was doing, how her partner was, her job, her house renovations.
"alright, enough about me, i'm boring myself to death," she said after getting you effectively caught up. "tell me about your summer adventures, so much more exciting than redoing the master bath."
you laughed, and you told her about the kellys, their beautiful home, this lovely town. you told her about how the air was just different up here, how everything tasted fresher, how you had made a friend who made you laugh.
"and who's the lucky guy?" she said, eventually, as you sort of knew she would. at your silence, you could practically hear her disbelief. "don't tell me you don't have a seasonal hire, yet? how small is this town?"
you rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "it's not that," you said, "i mean, there is this guy, and he's really, really-" you trailed off, kind of, tried to think of how to describe him. scarily kind? handsome and beautiful at the same time? you let out a small laugh. "well, he makes me nervous, i guess."
there was a pause. "you're telling me," your friend said, slow and pronounced. "there's a guy in this universe who can make you nervous? and he's in alaska?"
"it's weird, right?" you said, almost laughing at yourself.
"weird? it's unprecedented!" there was a squeal from the other end of the line. "so, you've been there for a couple weeks now, right? so you must know him pretty well?"
you looked down at your hand, flexed it, cleared your throat. "i, uh, haven't really, like, initiated anything with him," you admitted. "i don't know, it doesn't feel like how it normally does. like i feel like my order and timing is all wrong, like i'm behind and going too fast at the same time."
"holy fuck," your friend said. "you, like, really like him. that's what really being into someone is, babe. exactly that."
you swallowed, blushed, even though her words just confirmed what you already had suspected.
"you have to ask him out," she said, as if she had made up her mind. "or, like, i don't know, next time you see him, just, like, kiss him, or something."
you laughed, rubbed your palm against your leg. "pretty sure there's, like, laws against that," you joked, but you got her point. whether you liked it or not, all signs were pointing to you being completely taken with jeremy. and even if it had happened quickly, and even if it wasn't in your typical summer style, perhaps it was time to do something about it.
"next time you call i'm expecting a wedding announcement," were your friend's eventual parting words. "and i like a sweetheart neckline for my bridesmaid's dress." you said your goodbyes and hung up with well wishes and a plan.
a plan that involved picking up some crab from the fish market the following day.
of course, when you entered, the main space was empty, as it always was.
"jeremy?" you called out, "you there?"
"coming!" came that tell-tale voice.
if trent was there too, he didn't make his presence known, as it was only the brown-haired boy who came bursting in from the back, eyes wide with delight when he registered your figure. he actually gave a little laugh, short and boyish. "beauty!" he said, like he couldn't believe his luck. "so soon?"
he didn't stay behind the counter, either, this time coming all the way around to lean against the display case, face you head-on. it was hard to imagine a time when the sight of him like this wouldn't make your mouth dry, just a little. when him, close to you, wouldn't make your heart sing.
he looked conflicted, standing in front of you now, like he didn't quite know what to do with his hands. that made the two of you - because what lines did you still want to remain in place? what boundaries did you want to abolish entirely?
your exhale felt like a bloodstained white flag, waving. "couldn't wait any longer to see you," you said, simply, trying on some of his honesty like a hand-me-down leather jacket. it made you feel just as cool.
and it was worth it to see the way he practically melted at your words, the way his eyes softened, how he seemed to lean further into the display case for support more than comfort.
maybe to push your luck, maybe because you knew you weren't really pushing it at all, you swung your bag to your back, opened up your arms, only a little timidly, stepped forward a bit.
the elementary school bully in your head snickered at your awkwardness, but jeremy only pushed out of his lean immediately, wrapped his thick arms around your frame until your nose was pressed against the black cotton of his shirt. he was warm, so warm, and smelled like the sea, and you had to have been imagining how your limbs practically gave a sigh of relief to feel him hold you again.
how could this possibly be? for so long, you'd been the heartbreaker that boys warned their friends about, and now you were weak in the knees because of a hug?
jeremy laughed, and it rumbled through your body.
"what?" you asked into his firm chest as your fingers fluttered on his back.
he didn't say anything, only pulled his head back a bit, a motion your mirrored until you were staring up at him, curious.
his gaze was almost dazed as he reached a hand up, pinched at your cheek.
you made a sound like it hurt more on instinct than actuality, batting his hand away nonetheless. "what was that for?"
he laughed, leaned down and pressed his lips lightly to where his fingers had been, making your nose and cheeks erupt in strawberry pink. the most tender touch you'd felt, almost embarrassingly soft, enough to make you want to hide your face.
his humor was evident in his tone when he spoke. "had to make sure i wasn't dreaming," he clarified. "with you showin' up here, sayin' you wanna see me, and all. lookin' like this."
the memory of his lips burned like a flame on your skin as you looked up at him. "pretty sure you're supposed to pinch yourself for that," you told him.
something awoke in his eyes. "pinch me, then, beauty," he said, daring you, "'s only fair."
you scrunched up your nose. "only want me to so 'l kiss it better," you mused, knowing the look in his eyes, knowing exactly how that felt.
he hummed, greedy, guilty, let the pause settle like molasses. a moment during which you could have said a million things, but nothing felt quite right. nothing could possibly add to the peace you felt here, right now.
"i know," jeremy said, a self-deprecating sort of tease in his tone that didn't quite fit with the shimmery satisfaction in his eyes. "i know it, 'm so rotten for you."
and maybe you had been about to make some joke about him being rotten, but he had flipped this whole conversation on its head entirely by saying that he was rotten for you. because now this was no longer a joke, now this was just so, so serious.
so serious you cleared your throat, but didn't step away, couldn't bring yourself to. you swung your bag around. "brought you something," you said, tried to hide the shake in your voice as you took the plastic container from your bag, held it up to him. "extra portion of dessert, as promised."
he took it from your hands like it it was made of glass, smiled so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners. "thank you," he said.
there was something almost violent about his kindness.
"anyways," you said, moving right along, for fear that you'd forget what you came for if you looked in his eyes any longer. "was wondering if, i don't know, maybe, you, uh, wanted to-"
as you rambled and stuttered, which was like speaking a foreign language, to you, which made you feel like the tongue in your mouth was not your own, his grin grew, and grew, until you had to shake your head at your ridiculousness. "yes, please," he said, putting you out of your misery.
you rolled your eyes, your face hot. "if you'd only let me finish, i was almost there," you said.
"'course, beauty," he said with a nod, a gesture for you to continue, "didn't mean to interrupt."
you took a breath. "was wondering if you wanted to get ice cream with me, tomorrow?" you managed, the words rushed. "like a date?"
you'd ask him a thousand times, if he kept looking at you like his, as long as he'd take you in his arms, as he was doing now, as long as he'd hide your burning face in his chest and hold you like to let you go would hurt. "yes, please," he repeated into your hair. "did so well, beauty," he said, softer, a murmur. you hadn't known how much you needed someone to tell you that until he mumbled it into your temple, the affirmation sitting atop your head like a crown dipped in gold.
you made it back to the house that day with a package of crab and plans for tomorrow. you immediately texted tj, needing to tell someone, anyone, so much so that you would have told stan, if he'd been around, even though you knew how he would grimace, said something about you not making any sense.
free tomorrow morning? you texted her.
coffee place at eight was her prompt reply.
that was where you sat, now, across the table from your friend, filling her in on what you'd done, what you were doing later today.
she let out a low whistle when you finished, a little out of breath.
"ice cream date, eh?" she said, finally, raising a brow. "what, will you get his snap after?" she crossed her fingers and shook them at you, teasing.
you rolled your eyes and waved her off, but something about her words resonated with you. because it did seem juvenile, it did seem childish and weird.
but you'd never done the juvenile and childish. you'd skipped that part, right to the thoughtful flirting and manipulative mannerisms that you now associated with adulthood. was it so bad that you wanted some of that time back? was it so bad to want the ice cream dates instead of the motive-driven smiles? the bear-hugs instead of the whole let-me-buy-you-a-drink dance?
was it so bad to want it to just be easy, for once? for you not to have to do all the heavy lifting, just so they thought it had been their idea all along? you were tired of hiding your tracks just so they could feel proud when they discovered what you had led them right to.
you told tj as much, and she gave you a soft sort of smile, much more gentle than her usual expression. "well, in any case, i'm proud of you," she said, before looking down, swirling around her mug. "i could use a little bit of your courage."
you tilted your head. "oh yeah?" you asked, "got someone in mind?" of course, you had quite the strong intuition, but you knew it had to come from her.
tj just shrugged. "'m not really looking for anything, right now," she said, non-committal.
"not even from a certain sunshine?" you said, giving her a look, to which she rolled her eyes.
"jesus, not you, too," she said, which had you asking what she meant. "our families have been trying to get us together since we were practically babies," she elaborated, "our moms are best friends."
this new information rolled in your head like creamed butter in a stand mixer. you waited for her to continue.
"and 'm not the kind of person to do what everyone wants, what everyone expects from me," she said.
"oh, really?" you said, sarcastic, "news to me."
she hit your forearm playfully. "'m serious," she said, "and it was fine, because he was on the same page, too, until pretty recently." she looked down. "now he's making it pretty hard to maintain my stone-cold reputation." she said this like a joke, but there was an air of truth to it, too.
you took her hand and squeezed it, because if anyone knew what that felt like, it was you. if anyone knew what it felt like to feel that pull, that pull towards something, someone, who was just so unlike the person you had built yourself up to be, it was you. and you told her us much.
"to the death of the heartbreaker and the ice queen," you said, raising your mug to hers, teasing, but not really, "and the birth of the softie and the lover girl."
she laughed, clinked her mug against yours. "maybe not the death," she amended, "maybe the birth of the softie with a flirtatious streak and the lover girl with a mean one."
you'd toast to that, any day.
later, after you'd prepped for the day's meals, tended to the garden, and planned out tomorrow, you spent a little too much time deciding what to wear for your date, eventually landing on your typical summer uniform of jean cut-offs and a flimsy tank top. you spent a little too much time messing with your hair, a little too much time worrying about how you looked, about everything, but as soon as you saw jeremy that worry all melted away.
you had walked downtown, of course, to the ice cream stand towards the end of the pier, which was attached to the pizza place, and therefore run by the same teenagers. you'd made sure to be on time, but it appeared that jeremy had gotten here early.
he was already standing out front, notably not looking at his phone, just looking around, like he was taking everything in. it felt like a privilege, to see him before he saw you, to simply observe him for a second.
it seemed unfair that you still weren't used to what he looked like without his fishing gear on. this other version of him, this more intimate, everyday version, in goofy cargo shorts and some old t-shirt, seemed almost scandalous in comparison. you'd become so enamored with him, so attracted to him, and you'd only seen his arms bare once before.
it didn't help that he appeared to be wearing a suit jacket over his t-shirt, despite the heat that made the air wilt and waver. his hair curled over the tops of his ears, his face flushed with excitement that multiplied exponentially when he spotted you, now just a couple of steps away from him.
his eyes lit up, his body seemed to hum, like a kid waiting in line for a roller-coaster, finally up next. of course, the first thing he did was wrap you up in a hug. of course, the first thing you did was melt into it.
"beauty!" he exclaimed, "you're here!"
you couldn't help the delighted laugh that he pulled from you as you squeezed him tighter before looking up at him. you smiled, and it wasn't the practice-perfect one, the one that worked on everyone. it was a genuine one, the slightly lopsided one, the toothy one that lit you up from the inside out. "'course i did," you said, before your voice took on a teasing tone. you tugged on his lapel. "you dress up for me, jeremy?"
he blushed, slightly, and you wanted to feel the pink under your lips. for now, you settled with tracing your fingertips across his cheeks and nose, a touch he leaned into, ever so slightly. "you said it was a date," he said, simply, like that explained everything. maybe it did. maybe it explained him.
"you look so handsome," you told him, only because you wanted to, only because it was true. and it was worth it, to watch his eyes well up with bashfulness, to see the way his gaze grew boyishly pleased.
"can't think much 'bout how you look," he said, and it came out soft, almost strained, "know how distracted i get."
with that, with both of you making the other flush, he made to hold the door open for you, followed close behind you as you stood in line, surveying the different flavors.
"what's the chef's favorite flavor?" came his voice from behind you, making you scrunch your mouth up in thought.
"the chef loves a good strawberry," you mused, "what about the fisherman?"
he thought for a moment, appeared to be taking this very seriously. "the fisherman gets something different every time," he told you, and this made a lot of sense. that he wouldn't confine himself to a singular order. "and today, i think it's gonna have to be cotton candy."
"cotton candy?" you asked, surprised, amused.
"oh, yeah," he said, didn't stray from his decision, though, as you stepped up to the counter to order. "lukey knows what 'm talkin' about."
he held out his fist for luke to bump with his own, the teenager sighing, like he was used to this. "hey, jeremy," luke said.
jeremy waved him off. "i thought i said you could call me j-money," he said.
"you did say that," luke deadpanned, picking up a scoop. "i just didn't agree to it."
"what's up, j-money?" jenna, the other worker called, approaching now with a wide grin. "what can we get for you?"
jeremy gave her a fist bump, too. "that's more like it, jenner," he said. "and we're gonna do two scoops of strawberry and two scoops of cotton candy, please and thank you." he turned to you, looked at you like he was trying to read your face. "cup and whipped cream for the berry, cone and sprinkles for the candy."
it wasn't what you'd normally get, but you'd never let him know that. "how'd you know?" you asked, stepping to the side so that the line could move along.
he came up behind you, wrapped his arms around your torso, clasped them in front of you, urging you to lean back into his warm chest. you turned your head to the side, peered up at him. "'m physic about these kinds of things," he said, low, like a secret.
"must be," you mused, a quirk of a smile on your lips.
you both got your ice creams, jeremy insisting on paying, also leaving a tip for luke and jenna, urging the closest thing to a smile you'd seen from luke.
you walked together in stride down to the pier, eventually sitting down on the dock, during which he asked about the menu for this week (cherries, corn, and tomatoes were in right now, so those were your focus), how stan was warming up to you (pretty well, if you did say so yourself), how on earth you had gotten tj to be nice to you (you explained that her nice looked different than other people).
in turn, you asked about how the market was doing (well, especially now that scallops and rockfish had begun to make an appearance), what was new with camp (he'd finally gotten luke's younger sister to hold a rod correctly), what trent was up to tonight (his family liked to do board game nights every week).
as the sun began to sink deeper into the sky, and as your ice cream began to melt into a soupy pink at the bottom of your cup, the conversation naturally became a little more substantial, too. you were surprised at how easily you welcomed that from him, surprised how easily you answered questions about how you got into culinary arts (there was something about food that brought people together in a way nothing else did), what your favorite part of being a private chef was (learning new people and places so closely), what your least favorite part was (you'd always wondered what it'd be like to cook for a larger, more diverse audience).
and you asked him about how he had grown so close to the frederics (trent had been his best friend since he was in preschool), what he loved so much about this place (he knew everyone, loved everyone like they were family), what was so special about fishing (there was nothing quite like feeling as if something as powerful as the sea was on your side).
eventually, the sky was saturated with that blood orange haze, the heat had subsided into something much more drowsy, more pleasant, the kind of air that had your gaze lingering on his mouth as he spoke, as he laughed.
the kind of air that had his knee against yours feeling like something much more serious.
you both took last bites of your ice creams, hands sticky and heads clouded with sweetness. you set your cup down, looked up at him again, found the corner of his mouth blue and pink with residue.
"you have, uh, something, right here," you said, motioning on your own mouth where.
he wasn't embarrassed at all, of course he wasn't, as he made to wipe at the wrong side of his mouth. "did i get it?" he asked, his gaze growing heated, hooded.
you gave a slight shake of your head, bit your lip slightly. how shameless could you be, here? how rotten?
time seemed to slow, to liquify as you reached out a delicate hand, gently swiped at his lips until your fingers felt sticky.
pretty shameless, you decided, especially rotten.
you brought your fingers to your own mouth, sucked the sweetness off of them in a moment, watched the way his eyes practically glazed over, the air vibrating between the two of you.
there was no one else on the dock, the sun was almost done setting, its slow descent all but finished. even if there had been other people there, though, you doubt you would have felt their presence, doubt it would have mattered.
there was very little that seemed to matter, now, as you let him tug you onto his lap, facing him. very little that seemed to matter as your eyes searched his, very little that seemed to matter besides the feeling of him, under you, besides his exhales and yours.
"please," he breathed, entranced, like in a dream, and of course you pulled him to you by the lapel of his ridiculous suit jacket, of course your lips met his in a kiss that felt like waltzing through a rainstorm, like equal parts innocent and sinful, like something cinematic, something spectacular.
you wrapped your arms around his neck, urging the softest of noises from his throat, something like a sigh of relief, something like a whimper as one of his hands found the side of your face, the other pressing against the plane of your back, pushing you closer against his chest.
he tasted like sugar and something waxy, from the sprinkles, making you smile against his mouth, almost laugh. you much preferred this to the kisses of gatorade and vodka, of rum and coke from summers past. this was something beautiful, something so entirely him, and you, and no one else.
his mouth slanted across yours like a smirk, easy as a laugh, and when you pulled away, rested your forehead against his, both of your chests were heaving, mirroring swollen lips and flushed cheeks and heated gazes. his thumb drew barely-there hearts into your jawline.
he looked practically blissed out, from only a kiss, the rambler at a complete loss for words. you smiled. oh, to make the sweet-talker speechless.
he gave your cheekbone the lightest pinch, a thousand words you understood in the action, and then it was your turn to be speechless.
there was something monumental in this quiet, the lull of the ocean harmonizing with your exhaling breaths.
this harmony echoed in your head the whole night, into the next morning, when you got a text from jeremy asking if you were free that afternoon.
freddy wants to take the boat out on the lake, he texted, followed by please come, followed by can't stop thinking about you.
so, of course, because you were very much past being able to say no to him, and because you had finished your work for the day by three, you found yourself on the smaller dock on the lake, dressed for the heat, a swimsuit under your shorts and tank, your bag slung over your shoulder.
tj stood next to you, mumbling something about how you had conveniently left out whose boat this was, to which you mumbled something back about how she probably should have guessed it.
"sunshine?" that odd voice called out once the two of you approached. "didn't know you were comin' out."
"finally got somethin' i can use, eh?" tj said, that sharp tongue quicker than ever.
"should'a warned me," trent shot right back, "would'a worn my five inchers." tj rolled her eyes as jeremy hopped down onto the dock, immediately enveloping you in one of his hugs that you had come to crave.
"hey," you said into his chest, rubbed careful circles into his back.
he pulled back slightly, planted messy kisses on your cheeks and nose until you were giggling. "missed you," he said against your jaw.
"missed you, too," you told him, because it was the truth.
the memory of last night sat between the two of you like a weighted mist, like a velvety curtain, making your stomach flip, making his embrace feel hot. the heat was cut by a familiar voice.
"no wandering hands, frederic," tj said to trent with a warning finger as he made to help her into the boat, placing his hands on her waist.
he rolled his eyes. "relax, sunshine," he said, lifting her smoothly and placing her down, slapping the side of her thigh playfully. "these hands don't wander." his eyes grew teasing. "they know exactly where they're going."
tj scoffed and made to set her things down on the bench at the front of the boat as jeremy crouched down in front of you.
"hop on," he said, grunting slightly as you wrapped your arms around him. he held onto your legs, pushing up as you laid your cheek against the back of his neck. you hadn't had a piggyback ride in ages, and it was just as fun as you remembered.
jeremy stepped up onto the small deck area, walking you up to the front, shifting you and setting you down gracefully on the bench, next to tj.
"thank you," you said, giving him a smile as you put your bag down.
he winked at you. "anytime, beauty."
the lake was stunning this afternoon, like the inside of a snow-globe, without the fake powdery snow.
it was an afternoon distinct in its easiness.
easy, how you and tj chatted about where you'd gotten your swimsuits, you launching into a story that involved a surf shop in nantucket.
easy, when jeremy asked you to help him with his sunscreen. how you gently rubbed the white lotion onto his forehead, his cheeks, how he laughed when you scrunched up your face at the smell, how you squealed when he nipped at your fingers.
easy, how, when the sun began its drowsy dip, the temperature stirring slightly, trent dropped his zip-up hoodie on tj's shoulders and told her to "knock it off and put it on, teej," before she could argue.
easy, how trent insisted that the food you'd brought for them was the best he'd had, even though it was just sandwiches and fruit. how tj said she knew there was a reason she was friends with you, immediately citing the way you'd cut up melon into perfect cubes. easy, how jeremy's lips on yours tasted like watermelon, that afternoon.
it was a beautiful day, through and through, filled with refreshingly-chilly swims and hours laying out in the tart lemony sunshine, until you felt pleasantly tired, until you felt the weight of the day in your limbs, the evidence of a day laughing in your throat and voice.
at some point, jeremy had pulled you onto his lap by the slinky strings of your swimsuit bottom, shifted you until you sat on one of his firm thighs, your legs crossed over the other as you leaned your side into his bare chest. you'd thrown one arm around his neck, tracing your nails over his shoulder, his collarbone.
this, sitting with him like this, like neither of you were really quite sure where one of you ended and the other began, this was easy as breathing. you had nothing to prove to each other, and you felt that lightness like a breeze.
the two of you watched tj and trent bicker with knowing smiles. you commented on what songs were playing from tj's speaker, your favorite concerts you'd been to. you talked about your plans for tomorrow.
when jeremy felt you shiver, he helped you shoulder on the sweater he'd brought.
"you won't be cold?" you asked, balling up the soft fabric in your fists. he only shook his head, kissed your temple, making your smile come easy.
"i run hot, beauty," he said, shifting you closer.
you hummed, feeling just about ready to fall asleep in his arms. "i know," you told him, pressing your lips to his chest, the underside of his strong jaw, which made his exhale shaky. you smiled. "my own heater," you whispered.
"anything for you," he breathed into your ear.
it was almost too much, this confession of his that seemed to get you, every time, combined with the feeling of him all around you, under you, his bare skin against your palms. almost. just enough.
just enough that when you were back on dry land, when the sun had set, when trent and tj had insisted that they'd pack everything up, jeremy's gaze on your frame felt like fire. enough that his grip on your waist felt heavy, made your stomach twist with want. enough that you told him you'd walk back to his place with him, if only to get a couple more seconds in his presence.
until you stood in front of his door, and the air seeming to bend around you like refracting light. you looked up at him, his eyes leaden with desire.
and it was sort of weird, because what was so different about him was how he made you feel younger, more innocent, less of the heartbreaker and more of the easy-to-smile sap.
was it odd that there was something sort of innocent in the purity of the want you felt, then? that there was something almost angelic about just how deeply you wanted him, how it was so undiluted by any other motive. you wanted him because of him, and because of you, and because of everything that had led you to this moment.
did you imagine the halo of light around his head as his gaze caught on your mouth, like a snag on a record player?
"d'you wanna come in?" he murmured.
did you imagine the way that halo melted into something like mischievous horns when you nodded, let him reach around you to unlock the door, lead you inside?
and you'd pause, for a moment, think about how this was technically the first time you'd been in his place, about how much it meant that he had offered this piece of himself to you, about how you wanted him to see your apartment back home, some time.
but that pause would stretch like putty, like something you could hold, when his voice would come out rough, choked, when he would ask, "do you want a tour?"
and you'd tilt your head, like you knew something he didn't, as he'd switch on the hallway light. you'd lean back against the wall, wait for him to settle, right in front of you, a breath apart. "no," you'd say, softly. "later, maybe."
his gaze would grow thicker, and he'd lay a light hand on your hip, boxing you against the wall with his frame. "what do you want, beauty?" you'd reach up, lay an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you. "tell me."
"let me show you, hm?" you'd breathe, and he'd give a desperate sort of nod that'd have you clashing together in a kiss of teeth and flame and fairy-floss sweetness.
now, you whimpered into his mouth as his grip on you grew more forceful, more intentional. he pulled you flush against him, wide hands clutching at your thigh, rooting in your hair.
you hooked a leg around his hip, to which he moaned, his mouth falling open wider, neck falling back, allowing you better access. you left open-mouth kisses down his jaw, his neck, his slight stubble rough under your lips, your teeth, your tongue, as you nipped and sucked, relishing in the noises you drew from him, whimper-ish moans cut with breathy pants.
he was already impossibly hard across your front, you could feel how affected he was by this, by you. it made you smile. it made you pull away, barely, for a second. you brushed his eyelids with your fingertips, willed them to flutter open.
"lost you, there," you said, your voice rough. you were acutely aware of the slow, almost undetectable grind of his hips against you, even though it seemed as if he was doing it subconsciously.
he gave a short shake of his head. "not lost," he rasped, holding the side of your face in his palm. "'m here, beauty, swear it." and maybe lost wasn't the right word, maybe it was something close to blissed out, maybe even fucked out, even from just a kiss, a couple marks on his neck.
"good," you said, and you certainly didn't miss the way his eyes darkened. "then will you let me-"
"yes," he said, before you could finish, which tugged a laugh from your lips, somehow more significant, more telling than any moan could be. he took you by the hand and pulled you to his bedroom.
"didn't let me finish, rotten boy," you teased, to which something like sorrow flashed in his eyes.
"'m sorry, beauty," he said, shutting the door behind him, pulling you onto his lap as he sat on the foot of his bed, and it was something sort of innocent, to be having this same conversation, again. "please, please, tell me what you need."
you massaged the muscles in his shoulders gently with your palms as you shifted on his lap. "need you in my mouth, jeremy," you said, the words heavy in their honesty, weighted when spoken through swollen lips. "let me make out with your cock, yeah?" and there was that glassy look again, simultaneously like he was somewhere far away and in the palm of your hand. you sunk to your knees in front of him, peered up at him through your lashes. "please?"
"fuck," he bit out, tugged and twisted his clothes aside. "yeah, beauty. yeah, you can."
you smiled as you took him in your hands, spit onto his cock, pumped your gentle grip up and down, watched the way his head fell back, the way his thighs clenched when you dug your nails into one to ground you.
that slick, lewd sound echoed in your head, making you aware of how wet you were, how potent the desire inside you had become.
you ran your tongue up the length of him, could have laughed at how his choked exhale gave you butterflies, instead took all of him in your mouth, held your head down until you felt resistance, hollowed out your cheeks.
when was the last time you had done this with a fire in your stomach? the last time you'd wanted, more than anything, to make it so, so good for someone?
you'd known you were good at this, for so long, that you couldn't remember the last time you'd sucked someone off like you had something to prove.
that's what it felt like, now, with the hard, hot weight of him on your tongue. i'd work for you, you seemed to be screaming, i'd let you work for me.
his rooted grip on your scalp was firm, warm. "fuck, beauty, like that," he groaned, the other hand coming to rest on top of yours, on his thigh. like a reminder than he was truly present, that the act of you, like this, wasn't lost on him. like he understood. like he was grateful.
you tilted your head to the side, forced him deeper, the tip running along the inside of your cheek. his neck rolled at the sensation, making you pick your head up off of him, continue to run your hands over his cock, wet with your spit, look up at his flushed face. "like this, baby?" you asked, your movements painfully slow. "bein' so good for me, hm?"
he was nodding, and when he spoke, it was a whine. "please, beauty, can i see you?" he asked, "wanna see all of you, need it."
you were long past being able to deny him something he needed so deliriously, so you let him pull your shirt over your heart, tug your shorts aside, paw at the strings of your swimsuit until there was nothing obstructing his view of you.
you pulled at the edge of his shirt, helped him out of it, and sighed at the sight, at the already darkening bruises on his neck, the solidity of his stomach and chest.
his gaze had grown awestruck, and you found yourself embarrassed, sort of, maybe just restless, at the heaviness of his eyes on you, coating you like a red candy apple.
"get my good side," you managed, throat rough, voice rougher, a smile on your face at the nostalgia of the moment, how you'd been here before.
he laughed, then, a genuine one, pulled you to his chest and kissed you, so gentle and soft your heart sprouted angel wings. "never seen anything so pretty," he mumbled against your lips, urging a flush you felt up your neck.
you grinned, not the one that worked on everyone. the one that worked because it was for him. "please, can i have-"
"yes," he said, and it sent both of you into breathy laughs, because how many times would he say yes to you before knowing what you were asking? then he flipped you onto your back, though, the cottony fabric soft under you. "yeah, beauty, you can have me inside you."
you wanted to ask him how he'd known, but then he dragged his fingers through your folds, found you practically dripping, caught his thumb on your clit, making you jolt. "please," you moaned, "dyin' for it, baby, 'm soaked for you."
"don't need to beg me, beauty," he said, running the head of his cock along your center, making you whimper. his grin grew wicked. "sound so pretty when you do, though."
your reply would have been witty, you were sure of it, but it was mangled, torn from your throat in a strangled sound when he pushed inside of you, finally, slowly, making you clutch at his shoulder for something to hold onto.
the stretch grew as he pushed further into you, until you felt him in your bloodstream, in the back of your head like a memory, in your palms.
"fuck," you bit out, "fuck, just there, hm? stretch me out, baby, want it so bad."
he finally bottomed out, fluttered his molten eyes open again. you watched them soften when they regained focus on you, witnessed yourself become his beacon, calling him home from dreamland.
he pulled back slowly, pushed forward again, began a slow rhythm that had your head spinning, had your vision clouding over, sun showers exploding behind your eyes at the impossible stretch.
time oozed like strawberry jam, thick, you almost expected the clock on the wall to stop ticking entirely, for its face to stare back at you, frozen.
"how's that, beauty?" he rasped, at some point, when his pace had progressed into something more mind-numbing, when your thighs began to feel the start of the coming-soreness, when his stomach and shoulders started to contract and tense in the most delicious way. "that good?"
you nodded, choked on a whimper when he moved his hand to your lower stomach, stretched his thumb to swipe methodically at your clit. "that's, fuck," you tried, exhaling shakily, "fuck, that's so good, baby, you're so good."
you clenched around him, making him stutter, his hips jerking. "won't last like this," he warned, "can't, beauty, feel too perfect. too, fuck, too perfect for me."
he pressed you down harder until you could feel the outline of the mattress against your shoulder blades. "'m close, too," you breathed. "just need, just-"
your words were lost as he dragged the heel of his hand along your clit and back, the friction so stunning that your fingers twitched. "please cum, beauty," he pleaded, like he needed it, like he'd die for it. "cum on my cock, yeah?" you practically writhed around him. "fuck, give me it, hm?"
your high came abruptly and brutally, so sharp and consuming you barely registered his own orgasm, the warmth and sensation of it, the way he dipped his head down to bite gently on your chest, just sharp enough to leave a mark. you only really noticed the way the heavy weight of his body collapsed onto yours, pinning you between his damp chest and the bed.
breaths came slowly and drowsily, as you regained a sense of the room, of time, of space, as he rolled over slightly, just to give you more air, laid a massive arm on the outside of your thigh, pulled you half on top of him.
he looked so beautiful, then, a glossy adoring gaze paired with swollen lips, traces of your mouth all over him. you had a feeling you looked in a similar way, fussed hair and watery eyes.
you could have stayed there for hours, the measure seemed irrelevant, as he palmed, kneaded your thigh softly, as you twisted his messy curls around a finger.
at some point, he brought his free hand up, pinched at his own cheek.
you smiled at the cyclical sense of it all. "you're not dreaming," you rasped.
"oh, i know," he said, a smug, lazy grin peeking through his lips before he turned his cheek to you, expectantly. "i still think you should kiss it better, though."
butterflies stirred in your stomach as you gave a playful roll of your eyes, leaned your head forward to press your lips to his cheek.
"rotten," you breathed.
"for you," he clarified.
dreamland had nothing on here. on this.
you know, i hear she used to be a real heartbreaker, the big hand on the clock whispered, low and secretive.
really? the little hand said, shocked, her? there was a pause. what happened?
the big hand shrugged. don't know, it said. shame.
a real shame.
fin.
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happiest-hotch · 9 months
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OMG please write about married!Hotch x reader going to a club tearing it up on the dance floor for a BAU night out, and an older Jack happens to be there maybe with his girlfriend and he’s mortified seeing his parents really getting down?
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i would dance all over this man
Nights out with the BAU have never gotten less fun. Even as team members changed and through the years you and Aaron were away from the team, first in WITSEC then just to take a break. The plan formulated during your months together in hiding had been to wait until Jack was at college before going back to work
Hanging out at the regular bar was a sign nothing had changed in a decade.
After finishing probably the roughest case you've experienced since you rejoined the team, a team night out was needed, so you happily join Penelope in her mission to drag everyone out.
These days, Aaron doesn't need much convincing. He's more casual after WITSEC, and letting loose a little around the team isn't the worst thing in the world. It probably helps that he's not the boss anymore, and your unit chief also isn't opposed to letting her hair down.
He's only a few drinks in when you're able to convince him to come and dance. Maybe there's some using how much he loves you, but he doesn't protest.
It's hot and sweaty on the dance floor, and you're in a less-than-professional amount of clothing, dancing up on your husband like you're 24.
Aaron keeps his hands firmly on your hips, swaying to the music with you, but what's most sinful is his lips against your neck, very visible to everyone else, and the hard-on in his pants which thankfully remains unnoticed by anyone who's not pressed as hard against him as you are.
Penelope leans over to speak to you, or yell, thanks to how loud the bass is. "He's going to pull a muscle if he keeps dancing like that!" She jokes.
You giggle as you let him spin you around so you're face to face. It's gotten much more heated, and there's no doubt you're grinding provocatively against each other.
You hold his strong forearms, leaning up to whisper something downright filthy in his ear, but he talks first. "Jack."
You chuckle, grimacing. "That's not my idea of dirty talk."
"No." He shakes his head before nodding across the room. "Jack's here."
You pull away from your husband quickly, following his glance across the room before you catch his son. "What's Jack doing here?" You ask in shock. It's definitely a compromising position to be caught in with his dad.
"I don't know," Aaron says, taking hold of your hand and pulling you away from the dance floor and towards his son.
You briefly wonder if it's more or less awkward to acknowledge that he's seen you all over each other. Ignoring it might mean you can possibly look Jack in the eyes again at some point in the next ten years.
There's a girl next to him and you guess it's who he had said he was bringing home to meet you and Aaron during summer vacation. Her dress is probably not what she was expecting to be wearing during a round of meet-the-parents.
"That was awful." Jack deadpans, exactly like his father. "Seriously, I'm not sure how I'm going to burn that out of my memory."
"What are you doing here?" Aaron asks, ignoring the comments that you're struggling not to laugh at.
"Thought you guys were still on a case," Jack explains. "I didn't think I'd catch you dry-humping in a club."
You let out a chuckle while Aaron shakes his head. "Don't say that." He scolds weakly.
"I am so sorry you had to meet them like this." Jack turns to the girl next to him and says.
You offer out your hand to shake hers. "I'm Y/n, and I promise we're not always like this."
Aaron shakes her hand as well, introducing himself. "Yeah, usually our son has far better manners and introduces us to people."
"Usually, my parents aren't engaging in foreplay in the club." Jack teases you both.
You know how to get him back, and you click your tongue. "You don't know that."
It makes both boys' eyes widen while Jack's girlfriend laughs slightly, and the tension is loosened.
"Should we not mention this tomorrow?" She offers, speaking more confidently now that she can read the situation as humorous.
"Deal." You agree for both you and Aaron. "We should go."
"Home to sleep." Jack finishes the sentence for you, raising his eyebrows like a parent would do to their child, rather than the other way around.
Aaron does something you don't expect, frowning. "No promises."
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yuri-is-online · 7 months
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Plead the Fifth (Riddle, Floyd, Azul, Jack, Lilia, and Ace x Yuu)
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Summer vacation is all fun and games until someone asks you to be honest with yourself. Unfortunately for Yuu, they got dragged to the beach by some "friends" and are getting a big old dose of heat stroke, just not from a source they want to confess to outside of a court.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, no spoilers for Lost in the Book with Stitch this is just about their summer outfits. Vague tsundere vibes from Yuu, Yuu is implied to be physically strong, Floyd knows he's hot and has a bone to pick from Portfest, also he's a red flag have I mentioned that before? Azul is only mildly possessive don't worry about it ♡. Mild suggestiveness all around, but I don't think it's too much. Feel free to check out my more serious work on my masterlist.
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Riddle
"Seriously!" Riddle's cheeks are puffed in annoyance, and you have an uncomfortably close view. Not that you don't like looking at Riddle, quite the opposite, it's just hard to look at him... properly when he's fussing over your injured hand. "You would think that such a highly recommended resort would have better quality glasses." You don't know if you should be relieved or insulted Riddle believes it's cheap glass and not your raw strength responsible for the glass shards stuck in your hand. You flex it uncertainly, and he stares you into stillness. It's hard to focus with him so close, hard to breathe even. How Riddle hasn't noticed how beautiful he is normally is beyond you, but with how carefree he's been, staring out at the ocean and happily bringing you to see every unique shell he can identify, there is no way he can't at least sense how you look at him. It's just too much, and you find yourself pulling away worried he will find you disgusting.
But that's not what Riddle sees. He sees someone he cares for refusing to let him help. He certainly does not see someone who is nervously infatuated with him attempting to soothe their heart rate, otherwise he wouldn't have the nerve to continue being strict.
"Just where do you think you're going?" If he could collar you, he would, but instead he has to satisfy himself with yanking your shirt to keep you from struggling away. "Don't move, that's a direct order, prefect." You wheeze and Riddle decides to politely ignore your struggles, instead focusing on the weight of your hand in his with a smug sense of satisfaction. He is useful to you isn't he? So let him monopolize your attention for just a little longer.
Floyd
"Oooh Little Shrimpy~" You want to die. You probably are going to, Floyd has never been so close to your face without pinning your back to a wall, you would be stupid not to see it as a threat to squeeze. "You better not be thinkin' about callin' me adorable that'd really piss me off." You swallow. Or at least try to, you are horribly painfully aware that he has chosen to pick this fight just off the boardwalk meaning everyone can see your little spat and how little you have been looking at his eyes. Floyd can too, it's been sending a vaguely exciting shudder up and down his spine all day. He knows every dip and curve along his chest your eyes have followed, every lingering stare at his flexing shoulders, it's like you want to eat him for a change. He found that electrifying.
Or at least he had, but this little dance was starting to get boring.
What sort of predator never makes a move after setting the mood? He had tried telling himself he should be patient, shrimps aren't predators. Maybe Yuu needed extra time to set up their attack, he could work with that, maybe leave a few openings. But he was starting to run out of buttons to undo on his shirt and he really didn't want to ditch the sunglasses or beads just yet. He had been such a good patient eel, so why weren't you jumping on him already?
"I don't think-" You force yourself to look up at Floyd's eyes instead of his chest and your brain immediately fries. "I mean that isn't to say-" He glares at you and you try to wrack your brain for what compliment he could possibly want out of you. There is no way Floyd Leech is going to these lengths to try and get you to call him cool.
"Y'know, it's really rude to not answer your seniors shrimpy." Floyd draws himself up to his full height, with an oddly solemn look. "You're usually such a well-behaved little shrimp, is somethin wrong? You know if somethings wrong you had probably better tell me or Azul's gonna have to call the Headmage."
"It's because you're too hot ok! I cant focus on what you're saying because I keep looking at your fucking chest! Happ-" You can't get your compliment out before he's squeezed you into his chest and started shaking you around like a rag doll, squealing something about how hunting isn't that hard and he knew you could do it.
There's no way you were ever the one on the prowl here.
Azul
This isn't a date. Nothing about this is meant to be romantic, you are having a "purely platonic at best but lets be real this is probably for business" drink with Azul at the tacky (his words not yours) poolside bar. "I wouldn't have thought about putting a water park next to a beach." He murmers to himself, carefully photographing every angle of his float before sitting down to drink it. "It just sounds redundant." You shrug, idly stirring your own drink.
"You'd be surprised. Some humans really don't like swimming in the ocean." You're the one saying it, so he has no real choice to belive it but it's hard to wrap his head around.
"How is one of these parks safer? They aren't nearly as clean." He thinks that if he ran a place like this, that would be the biggest problem, humans are messy creatures already, but the level of mess he has just casually observed while sitting here with you really makes him wonder just what the actual appeal of this place is. Well, at least just what the appeal was to paying customers, he knew why he wanted to bring you here. Usually, when Azul turns to look at you, you immediately look away from him. But as long as you've been on this little vacation, no matter how many times he's looked your gaze has remained exactly where it should be. He's puffing with pride, looking you over wondering exactly what angle he can press to get you to say what it is you actually are thinking and not whatever cheap jab you have prepared to protect yourself.
You remain none the wiser, stuck staring at Azul and his shirt simultaneously drowning in how attractive you find him and how much it reminds you of a man in his mid fifties who relies on his bank account to make up for his miserable personality.
"See something you like, prefect?" Azul is unbelievably happy, you are tempted to say smug but then he sort of always does. It's the glasses you think as you bite on your straw and hope he doesn't notice how hard it is for you to maintain eye contact. But he does, oh he does, taking advantage of your flustered state to move closer to your side.
"You- you..." Azul is stupidly attractive he has to know that, but you also know he is desperately insecure and don't want to send him into a spiral with your stupid tongue. "You look like a middle-aged dad on his third divorce on vacation trying to doge the tax man." You mutter, trying really hard to sound threatening. It doesn't work, Azul just gives his best put upon sigh as he clucks his tongue in disappointment.
To your great surprise, he moves his hand to tilt your head to look him directly in his bright blue eyes, a similar smile to the one he has while trying to sell you on something directly kicking your heart rate up. He is trying to sell you on himself, you realize...
"How insulting, my dear. You should know better than anyone that no one gets out of a contract with me so easily they'd be able to do it three times." ... and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer. Not that it was the answer you intended to give him in the first place, and oh how happy he is to know that.
Jack
"Honestly! You would think you'd know to be more careful by now." You might as well be talking to a brick wall, Jack's certainly solid enough to pass for one. He still seems to be under the impression that he's fine despite how much of his weight you are supporting. You think he is trying to talk, but the heat has him only babbling nonsense. Reluctantly, he lets you guide him over to a shady patch of trees close to a water fountain before he is well and truly gone.
"This is nothing. I handled the Savana I can take a stupid beach." He mutters as if he his extremely visible chest isn't heaving or rolling with droplets of sweat that other, lesser people have been watching drip from his abs with extreme disrespect.
Not you, though! No, your eyes have been firmly on the spicket on the fountain, determined to soak one of the smaller towels you brought and gently press it to Jack's forehead. Despite his insistence that he's fine, he leans desperately into your cooling touch, tension leaving his shoulders in one deep breath.
Just as all strength leaves yours as he decides to collapse into your lap.
"J-Jack!" You don't know what you want to ask next. Your back is pinned to one of the trees, Jack's head is resting firmly in your lap, but the arm that had been around your shoulder has decided to move around your waist. He growls (growls!) when you gently try to push him off you to try and get him set up in a more comfortable position. "Bad dog." It's all you can think to say and he doesn't seem fazed, if anything you swear he starts holding you closer. There is no way this could get any more embarrassing.
"Mommy, what is that guy doing to his partner? It looks like he's trying to eat them." Never mind yes it could. You make awkward eye contact with a very young mother as you try to silently plead with her that "no, this isn't what it looks like, I swear" as you desperately try to revive Jack with the damp cloth. The young woman looks at you then to her child, clearly trying to hold back her laughter and not doing it very well. She manages to usher him off before he can ask any more pointed questions and you glare down at Jack.
"You're setting such a bad example." You mutter and he lets go of your waist only to cross his arms over his chest and start to snore. Oh he is going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up, assuming he believes half of what you'll have to say.
Lilia
Love and Lilia are old strangers. He knows he can feel it, no matter what ancient denials he might have made, but he finds no matter how long he lives he is no better at recognizing it, no better at knowing what to do with it. There's something ironic about how much of an outlier this chance meeting between you both that makes him feel something akin to apathy. He doesn't think that's quite the right word, but he struggles to better find an explanation for the little knots it ties itself in sometimes.
So Lilia may not know just what this emotion is no, but he knows he likes the way it looks on you.
"Well, prefect? It's rude to stare you know." He says that as if he is not trying to make you, winking just over his sunglasses and striking a pose Cater had shown him on magicam in just a silly enough way that he can pass it off as one of his usual jokes. Your usual denial flutters up on your face, but your heart seems to be beating your brain to your tongue today.
"You look very cute, Lilia." That strange pit is filling with nervous flutters again, but his brain beats his soul to his mouth.
"That's good! I was worried I'd have to spend this vacation in the shadows out of shame." He says, fully aware that you are both currently sat in the shade of a particularly large umbrella precisely because he can't be out in the sun for long, even if that's the purpose of a beach vacation. Speaking of which... "Why don't you go join the others out on the beach, prefect? You helped me with my little errand, you deserve to take a break." He says it much more gently than he'd intended, if it wasn't pointless, he'd keep you here and needle you for more cute reactions. Maybe he would ask you to try on his shirt and demand yours as payment. But that's not fair, that's not life, this connection is destined to be as fleeting as it is precious. The way disappointment and confusion mingle in your eyes tells him you know that too, on some level.
"Calling you cute isn't a chore, but sure, I guess." You tell him something about calling for you if he decides to go somewhere else, and he thinks he promises you only if you do the same, but he doesn't know. He's too focused on the way the sun takes you into it's embrace, taunting everyone but certainly him specifically with just how much you look like you belong out there in the daylight.
But the moon can still observe can't it? In a way that's all he knows how to do.
Ace
You really hate how low your standards are. Who the hell gets all jittery and flustered over a guy in a boater hat? You apparently, Ace has the worst dad on vacation fit you have ever seen, assuming you are politely ignoring Azul. Something that's unfortunately easy for you to do and has led to you paying just that much more attention to Ace.
Or at least that's what you've been trying to tell him while pointedly staring out at the shore. You wish he was too lazy to put things together, but as usual, when there is an inch to tease you over, Ace Trappola will take a mile.
"Admit it, you think I'm hot." He sounds so infuriatingly smug. It makes you want to kiss him but only to shut him up! Not because you like him!
"The only thing hot about you is how full you are of hot air! Seriously, what's up with that bunch of fruit on your shoulder? Why would I find that attractive?" You know it only sounds like you are asking yourself, begging more like, because you really do think he's attractive. It's written all over your face, you might as well scream it with just how flustered you become when finally you decide to look back at him.
"It's ok to admit. It might be self-centered to say, but I really am a catch. Really prefect how did you get so lucky?" Oh he is never going to let you live this down.
"Please, you look like a dead beat dad on his third divorce!" Your voice is unnaturally high, and Ace just laughs off your insult. "Who would be attracted to you!"
"You, duh." He takes your hand and pulls you back towards the beach. "Besides, if I convinced you to marry me twice, I can do it a third time." He winks at you over his shoulder and you stop dead in your tracks, so overwhelmed with annoyed affection and embarrassment it's all you can do to grasp for a come back.
"Was it Duece."
"What?" Ace is momentarily thrown, extremely confused by what he perceives as a change of subject.
"You said you could convince me to marry you a third time, but you're on your third divorce. So when did you leave me for Deuce ?"
"Wait I didn't- you know that's not what I meant!" And yes, technically, you do know that's not what he meant, but you refuse to be the only one embarrassed here. You hope he chokes.
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#367
“That’s it?  That’s all you have to say?  Seriously?  You call me in on my day off.  I cancel my afternoon with my Marine buddies at the lake.  Ok fine, I’ll catch up with them later.  I drive twenty minutes to get here.  There’s hardly anybody else around.  I come over and you want to talk about landscaping this back region, something that could have waited until Monday?  Really?  I thought considering what happened yesterday that you would be asking to give me a blowjob or something….
“…Oh for fuck’s sake!  Do not fucking pretend that you and I weren’t at Ruby’s bookstore yesterday at the same time.  You and I were in the last two booths on opposite sides of a good sized glory hole.  You sucked my dick for fifteen minutes, edging me a couple times.  You whispered, ‘Let me lick your ass.’  You did just that when I turned and offered my crack for your tongue.  Then I flooded your mouth with my usual massive load.  Now do you remember?
“Good.  You can knock this coy shit off.  You called me to come in, brought me to the back part of the property where no one ever goes, in hopes of doing what?  Did you think that we would play strip parchesi?
“I get it.  You want me to do this, to take the initiative.  You want me to ask for a blow job?  You don’t have the balls to ask yourself. 
“For fuck’s sake.  There’s no need for me to ask you.  You are a fucking cock hound.  Yeah, you may have a wife, three kids in a ten-bedroom house on twenty-four acres, with a detached five-car garage with a two bedroom mother-in-law suite above it, a vacation home in the Virgin Islands, a mid-seven-figure job, and yet you drive half an hour to the nasty industrial part of town to suck rank blue collar dick at a glory hole at Ruby’s bookstore.
“The thing is that you clearly have been doing it for a long time.  That wasn’t a casual blow job you gave me.  You knew how to manage my fat sausage, like an expert.  Your tongue never stopped hitting my sensitive spot.  You throated me with a mild struggle, but you didn’t give up.  And then, you knew how to read my cock to sense when I was getting close in order to edge me properly.
“So how long have you been sucking dick?...  Junior high?  Wow.  Let me guess.  It was some blue-collar factory worker.  Probably some big and beefy guy like me.  Was it?... Thought so.
“Henry, the guy working the front counter who I have known for years—fucked him a few times—told me that you are a regular, and you pay him a hundred bucks to direct the big guys your way.  That’s kinda bold.  Hell, that’s how I wound up at your hole.
“I’m surprised I didn’t pick up your sperm burping vibes until now.  When I came out of the booth yesterday, you threw open your door to see whose dick you had been sucking.  Once we made eye contact, your face went from curious, to excited, and finally to panicked all in one second.  You bolted out of there so fast.
“So here we are….  …Faggot?  What do you want to do?  Your silence is not going to get you my dick in your mouth.  You want my dick?  Tell me….
“…No, no, no.  I know if I were to whip my cock out that you would be on your knees throating me down in no time flat.  No, I am asking do you want my dick in your life?… To rule your life?
“Good.  What about my ass?  Your tongue liked the sweaty musk.  You must be an ass eater too.  You want to worship my shithole too?...
“Cunt, I better start hearing some ‘Sir’s’ after the yes’s and no’s you give.  You understand?...
“That’s better.  I have been using men for my own thing for decades.  You ain’t the first closeted faggot I have come across.  I have worked this situation before.
“Look I work for you whenever anyone else is around, but when we are alone together, I own you.  I’m Sir to you, and you will be Cunt or Faggot.  I will be calling the shots here.  We’ll work out more later. 
“When was the last time you had a man use your cunt?...  That long?  You may not be a virgin, but you will offer the same tightness.  Get naked….
“…You don’t do anal?  I don’t care.  You need to be cunted.  You’re gonna be cunted.  Naked. Now!...  Cunt, I expect you to do what I say, without hesitation.  That’s better. 
“You need to realize that I fully know how to work with a closet case.  Yeah, we are here on a Saturday, when none of my guys are here, we are in the back of your property where no one goes, and most importantly Sarah’s SUV is gone.  Considering you are back here about to be cunted, it’s safe to say that she has the kids.  How long is she gone?... 
“All day?  Well hot damn!  Walk with me.  No, leave your clothes there.  You need to be exposed for a bit….  In the middle of the field here. 
“On your knees.  Your goal is to put as much throat slime as you can on my dick.  That’s the only lube I’m going to use.  Reach up, unzip me, and take it out.  Balls too.
“This is the cock that is going to rule you.  I don’t care how many other dicks you suck, my dick is the one at the center of your universe.  Suck.
“Ahh,… That’s the tongue I remember.  Mmmm.  This is the kind of a blowjob I like at the end of a hard day.  One that I can unwind with.  That’s why I stopped at Ruby’s last night.  But today, I’m in control.  Hands behind you and keep them there.  All the way down to the root.  All… the… way… down! 
“When I put my hand on your head, I’m in control of the blowjob.  You dedicate that airway to me.  Gag motherfucker.  Gagging only puts more throat lube on my dick.  I’m going to give you a minute to really lube me up.
“…Struggle with that fat cock.  I would have expected a more experienced deeper throat.  We’ll get that trained right.  Blowjobs when the man is in control are a lot different, hunh?
“…Ok turn around.  On your knees….  Don’t worry while we are out in the open, no one is here.  Knees spread.  Shoulders on the ground.  Arms at your side.  Palms by your knees and face up. 
“This is how to present a cunt for a cunting.  And what a pretty pussy it is.  So pretty, that I think you earned an extra glob of spit.  There.
“Scream fucker.  I always go right to the root.  No fucking countdown.  No time to accommodate.  Oh, fuck you are tight.  Man.  This cunt is mine now.  I decide what to do with it.  We are going to have some fun. 
“You like blue collar men?  Cunt, I am going to whore you out to some nasty big brutes.  I know places where cunts are used and tossed aside.  There are a few rest stops on the interstate, some truck stop with old school showers, there’s even a mechanic shop I know with a nasty bathroom around back.  I can’t wait to transform this cunt a perpetual sloppy mess. 
“Remember I told you I was going to the lake with my Marine buds?  We are all hard-working men who enjoy using cunt fags.  That’s why we go to the lake, to use them hard.  If you think you can get away from the family for an overnight, we’ll go up there later today.
“Oh there you go.  Now keep that cunt relaxed.  Tightness is hot in the beginning, but ultimately, I like it sloppy.  Oh man.  I’m getting close.  Fucking close.  This cunt was made for my dick.  Here it cums!  Here it fucking cums!  Ahhhh!  Ahhhh!
“Goddamn.  Cunt, you may give great blowjobs, but this cunt is gold.
“When I pull out, your mouth will move to clean me up.  If you want to jack off while doing it, go for it. 
“…Oh look, there’s a little blood mixed in with my load.  A tiny skid mark.  It all goes in your mouth….  Fuck!  Does that feel good. 
“Ok Cunt.  This is what’s going to happen.  I will rule your cunt, your dick, your mouth, basically you.  I don’t care if you still go to Ruby’s to suck on more blue collar dick.  I’m not that kind of possessive.  But when I want your holes, I want them now.  I understand there is the wife thing.  I can work around that. 
“I want to know all details of all the loads you take.  If you spend an afternoon at the glory holes, I want to know how many cocks did you suck, and how many loads did you swallow.  You’ll have a tracker on your phone so I know where you are at all times. 
“Getting away to service me is going to require some changes from you.  The one that pops into mind is get Sarah’s goddamned yoga studio out from over the garage.  I’m going to move in there.  It makes sense to have me on grounds in general, but now I will have a room nearby for my cock to enjoy some nearby cunt.
“I will also accept a raise.  If I’m going to be fucking you, it will cost extra.  Yeah that makes me a whore, but I’m fine with that. 
“Now we get to the part of the conversation where you realize just how much you are owned by me.  You know Ruby’s has hidden cameras throughout their booths?  No?  Not many are aware.  Henry showed me a few very clear videos of you going to town on some rather big dicks.  I have copies on my phone….
“No, no, keep cleaning the mess you left on my cock.  I can show the videos to you later.  My buds at the lake will definitely appreciate seeing them.  You know, having it on my phone, I can show them to anyone.
“If you think that our relationship is going to be all fucking and sucking, I’ve only just begun.  I keep telling you that I own you; I really do fucking own you.
“OMG are you cumming?...  Fuck yeah!...  You are a sick faggot!”
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valeskafics · 1 year
Text
Headcanons for Stepdad!Daemon Targaryen x Bratty!Reader (Modern AU)
y'all are sending me straight to hell smh (ill do an innocent reader one too!)
nsfw material under the cut
-your life is pretty good. sure, your dad is a deadbeat who walked out on you and mom as a kid, but your mom threw herself into working her way up the corporate ladder, got an amazing job as ceo of a Fortune 500 company, and you live a pretty fortunate life
-granted she's a total absentee parent and sent you off to boarding school, but hey, other people have it worse
-you have tons of friends at your all girl's boarding school and you're always pranking the teachers, laughing together, having a good time, you love being at school more than being home in the summers with your mom
-when your mom got remarried, you didn't care. you didn't even bother attending the wedding, it'll probably end in what will be her fourth divorce
-only it doesn't... you get a call during your senior year (18 AT THIS POINT OK THANKS) that your mom has passed and your stepdad (who you have never met!) is now your legal guardian)
-you're like okay well... this is a problem for summer vacation lmao. until you're told that you will no longer be attending the school because your stepdad doesn't want to pay its high tuition and you're going home lmfao
-he sends a car to pick you up from the airport and doesn't bother coming to get you himself lmfao so you're just chilling in the limo, you're used to this kinda shit you don't care, deadbeat dad, absentee (now actually dead) mom, you're a child of divorce, so all you care about is having fun with your friends, and your new stepdad has ruined that by dragging you home
-when you meet him, you're kind of floored... you hadn't seen a picture of him or anything, bc your mom never bothered sending you any of the wedding photos. he's tall, blonde, and disgustingly handsome
-he's just come back from a workout and he's sweaty and shirtless and just in his grey sweatpants (is this a kink? kinda think its my new kink)
-"oh, you must be the new daughter I got saddled with"
-you're like????? excuse me OLD MAN, I was happy at boarding school with my friends, thank you very much!
-he's so offended at being called old man?? and he's like "well I wasn't going to keep paying $100k per year for your tuition you're wasting money"
-you're like "it's my mom's fucking money, you leech", but then you find out he's just as rich as your mom if not richer lmao so you're like..... oops
-when he saw you come home from boarding school in that little plaid skirt, he was gone but goddamn you have a fucking mouth on you
-you call him daemon but he's like "no little girl, you're going to treat me with some fucking respect, you're going to call me daddy"
-and you're like??? this should not be as hot as it is
-he knows exactly what the fuck he's doing, he sees your pupils dilate, but now.... he wants to fucking mess with you. he wants you on your knees begging for him
-he's a total slut even though your mom only passed a few months ago, always bringing women back to the house
-but YOU aren't allowed to have any of your friends over, noooooo
-so what else is there to do but sabotage him? you steal one of his shirts and wear your cutest panties, walking out when he's in the middle of a hookup, like "daddy, what's for dinner tonight?"
-you're an adult so the women he brings home are like???? WHAT THE FUCK slap him and leave
-you kind of just smirk and are like :) goodnight daddy!
-you get sent to public school and you have boys in your classes for the first time.... daemon finds out and transfers you to a private day school for all girls when he comes to pick you up and hears the guys at school talking about the hot new girl
-you're like ok daddy :)
-he's like..... is she actually listening to me......
-you literally don't care about the guys at your school, you just want daemon's attention, so you're always walking around the house in your cutest little silk pajamas, sitting next to him at dinner, asking for help with your homework pretending not to understand it
-and you kinda slow down on the brattiness the more attention he gives you because you fucking crave it, his attention, his validation, you thrive on it
-you haven't been with a guy before but you and your friends at school watched more than enough porn to know what it's all about
-you definitely go on the house's main computer and leave a step dad/step daughter video open for when he comes home
-he storms up to your room like Y/N WTF ARE YOU WATCHING ON MY COMPUTER?!
-you're like :) idk what you're talking about daddy :)
-drags you up to your room, bends you over his knee and spanks you
-you did not expect that, but well well well, if it isn't the consequences of your actions
-when he sees you tearing up a little bit, he eases up, he asks how many boys you've been with
-when you say none, he fucking melts
-so gentle with you your first time
-but after that??? man he's edging you, he's choking you, he's spanking you
-you have to call him daddy, never daemon or he won't let you cum
-still makes you call him daddy in public too
-when you start college, he moves to the town your school is in, gets a massive penthouse and doesn't tell anyone you started off as stepfather/stepdaughter, you're just his sugar baby
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snow-pegasus · 11 months
Text
Soft thoughts with Chan
TW for light angst caused by insomnia (on Chan's part)
Reader and Chan are close and flirt with each other, but they aren't dating and aren't sure of each other's feelings.
Felix suddenly calling you wasn't really uncommon. You two were often playing together along with the other younger members, so you were used to getting calls and texts at odd times to invite you to play.
That usually didn't happened that late at night though. Especially not at 4am, even if they were on vacation.
You were awoken by your very loud ringtone on a Saturday and for a second you felt pissed, until you checked who was calling. Confusion took over, and then worry, before you accepted the call.
"Hi? Lix?" You mumbled, your brain still fuzzy with sleepness.
"Hi, noona." Felix's own tiredness was apparent on his voice.
"What happened?"
"It's, uhm, it's Chan." The younger boy started and before you could freak out he quickly added. "No accident happened, it's okay, but he hasn't been getting much sleep for a while now and he haven't got any for two days."
"What?!" You yourself winced at how loud your voice suddenly got and you heard Felix doing the same. "Sorry, sorry."
"'s okay." You heard the boy sigh. "Can you do us a favor though, noona? I know you and Chan have been going through a weird flirting phase and you might feel weird by doing this, but can you come over to the dorms?"
You felt your neck getting hot at his words, but your answer would be the same with or without them.
"Of course, Lix."
"I didn't even say why I'm asking you to come over." He chuckled.
"You know I would do anything to help you guys."
"Especially Chan." Felix was smirking so hard you could almost see it through the voice call.
"Blasmephy!" You teased. "I love all of SKZ members, Chan and non-Chans equally, okay?" The loud laugh the boy let out was worth the silly joke.
"Okay, noona, if you say so. I, uh," He got silent for a second and you hmmed to let him know you were paying attention. "I was thinking you could come over and just spend some time with him? Chris always gets more relaxed when you're around."
You felt yourself soften at his words. You also got more relaxed around the leader, and knowing the other boys thought — even if you had a hard time believing the words — that you did the same for him warmed your heart.
"Thank you for telling me this, Lixie. I'll just get dressed and be over in a bit, yeah?"
"Okay."
❄️
"Thanks, noona." Were Felix's first words when he opened the dorm's door for you.
"You don't have to thank me, sweetie." You pulled him for a hug, sensing he might be needing one.
"But I still want to." The freckled boy hugged you hard, before letting you go.
"So." You thought of asking something that was on your mind while you took an Uber there. "Chan doesn't know I'm here, right?"
Felix's cheeks got just a bit rosy, guilt taking over his face, and he replied with a quiet "Yeah."
"It's fine, sweetheart." You smiled. "I'll figure out what to say."
The younger boy quickly hugged you again and left the door, going back to his own dorm.
You left him to lock the door and quietly walked over to Chan's room.
Light was coming out under the door. Not the soft purple ones Chan left on when he slept, but the white ones. He's probably trying to work, you thought beforing knocking.
You waited a few seconds before the door slowly oppened, Chan's face peaking out with a confused expression on his face.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?"
You smirked, before kissing Chan's cheek and saying "I came to see my favorite boy, can't I?"
Red instantly took over his cheeks and ears.
"Uh, uh..." The boy gulped and you chuckled.
"Can I go in?"
"Yeah, of course." Chan stepped back, still just as red, and you kissed his other cheek before going inside. Just because you could.
"Y/N..." He whinned, a pout on his pretty pink lips.
"What, wanted me to kiss you somewhere else?"
He kept pouting but gave up talking.
You took this opportunity to take a good look at him. Chan looked more exhausted than ever: skin paler than usual, the dark circles under his eyes looking very proeminent, tense muscles, especially his shoulders.
A pang of hurt took over your heart.
"What are you doing up?" The leader suddenly asked after closing the door.
"I could ask you the same thing." You stared at him and raised one of your eyebrows.
"Touché." He chuckled.
It was easy to notice how he was trying to not show to you how tired he was.
The boy started to walk over to his chair, the monitor in front of it serving as proof that Chan was indeed working, but just as he was passing in front of you — who were standing in front of the bed —, you pulled his arm and made both of you fall on top of his blankets.
"Wha-?"
"Cuddle time." Your grin made Chan laugh and he tried to get up.
"I have to work, Y/N."
"Please?" You gave Chan your best puppy eyes. "I miss cuddling with you, Channie."
The older boy sighed, faking annoyance.
"Alright. But just for a bit!"
You smirked internally. You both knew you would end up sleeping.
"Okay." You let got of his arm, already missing Chan's warmth.
"What you had in mind?" His pretty brown eyes were looking at you, him looking so soft even in the all black pjs he was wearing.
"Hmm." You pretended to think, having already thought of a position even before you knocked on his door. "You could lay on my chest? I like to play with your hair while we cuddle."
Chan blushed once again, but nodded.
"O-Okay."
A couple minutes later, that was the exact position you two were. Chan's eyes were closed, his body slowly relaxing while you gently petted his curls.
You just left the silence take over for a while, enjoying the many pleasent sensations you were feeling: the softness of Chan's hair, the subtle smell of his coconut shampoo and his own natural smell, the beautiful sight he made when he was like this.
You loved him. You loved him so much that sometimes your heart felt like it was about to burst, and this was one of those times. Unlike the other times though, you didn't feel like swallowing the feelings. You wished to tell him, even if it wasn't a proper romantic confession, so that's what you did.
"I love you, Chan." You weren't sure if he was totally awake until you saw the boy's ears turn pink.
"Love you too..." He mumbled and pressed his face on your chest, trying to hide his rosy cheeks.
You lowered your head just enough to press a kiss on his hair, and then used your free arm to hug him tighter.
There was a lot more you could say to him, so many words about the many many things you loved about Christopher Bang, but you decided to keep these to yourself now. You would tell them all to Chan later. Now it was time to rest.
You two fell deeply asleep, just like you expected, comfortable and warm on each others' arms. You ended up having the sweetest dreams, and you hoped Chan had some too.
Taglist:
@my-favorite-bangchan @spacegirlstuff @sstarryoong @cursed-mars-bars @wooyussy @compersian @laylasbunbunny @imsolovelylovely @hugs4chan @wrengom
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jpitha · 1 year
Text
Just a Little Further
I woke with a start. I was going to be late! Today of all days!
I slept through my alarm, my backup alarm, and according to Starbase Picaresque, 5 minutes of him pinging me, trying to wake me up.
"I was about to call the infirmary, Melody. I was sure there was something wrong." He said.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" I said as I threw on my clothes. Fortunately, Vin'aren wouldn't leave until I was completely packed last night. I wouldn't have been done otherwise. Running a comb through my hair - luckily it was a fresh, cute short cut so it wasn't too bad - I grabbed my uniform jacket and glanced longingly at my kitchenette.
"There isn't time to make coffee." SP said.
I sighed. "I know. It's just..." I ran over to the kitchenette, grabbed my hand grinder, my brewer, my set of measuring cups, the scale and the airtight container of coffee and swept it into a bag. "I don't know what kind of coffee FarReach has, and I don't want to be a grump because they have bad coffee!"
SP sighed. "Really Melody? Fine. But you have to leave now unless you want me to get the Fire Brigade to bring you.
Starbase Picaresque was threatening me with having to get a ride from the only folks who have vehicles on board. The Fire Brigade uses them to carry hoses and equipment to a fire and sometimes bring injured people to the infirmary. If they brought me to the docking ring because I was late I would probably die of embarrassment.
"I'm going, I'm going!" I said, as I ran out the door, no breakfast and no coffee.
Hi, by the way. My name is Melody Mullen (ugh, I know) and I'm the information warfare officer on FarReach! The administration of Starbase Picaresque and the joint Human/K'laxi colony Zen'agan's Reach have sponsored our mission to travel the Warp Gates and go as far as we can!
Normally yes, humans would just use their wormhole generators and link to a location in space, it's instant and easy. And sure, a few people feel like they died and visited the afterlife, but not too many, and it's not like they get hurt. But before they met us, the K'laxi didn't travel that way. They'd use the Warp Gates and travel from gate to gate using an Addressing Module.
These days, K'laxi ships have both an addressing module and a wormhole generator. They actually bought the rights to build them from us and improved them! The newest Human ships have K'laxi wormhole generators and they're amazing! They use less power than ours do and they even have fewer people suffer side effects when they're used.
You know about the K'laxi right? They're the first sapient species we ever met! They're from a world that's smaller and lighter than ours, plus their planet is straight up and down, no tilt and their orbit is almost perfectly circular. That means they have no seasons! It's always a fall (for us) day there! I went once for vacation with my moms, it was kind of weird. We were there for a month and the weather was identical the whole time. They didn't even know what a meteorologist was until we explained the concept!
They're so cute looking too. They're shorter than us, and they have big expressive ears on the top of their head, a long fluffy tail that they can grab things with and fur all over! Someone said they kind of look like a cat or squirrel or fox person from comics and I guess I can see it, but they are definitely their own thing.
The crew of FarReach is about half K'laxi, they are a major sponsor of this expedition too. They share the work onboard with us.
Oh, I should mention FarReach too. She's an AI, and has been alive for nearly a thousand years, can you believe it? Humans and AI have been working together (mostly) harmoniously for two millennia. When AI take on a new ship, they name it and that becomes their name. I learned it's incredibly rude to call them by an old name, it's like deadnaming them. Oof. That was awkward. I apologized and She said it was okay and that I didn't know, but I think I was beet red for like three hours.
FarReach started out as a Starjumper, an old, old ship originally designed to go between human colonies at relativistic speeds. They were more than a thousand years old when the first wormhole generators were developed. They can thrust with their star drives at tens of gees when needed (though when there are biological people on board they keep the thrust around one gee) and they can cost through interstellar space at half the speed of light.
Before they were FarReach, the Starjumper was refitted at the Mt Greylock docks in orbit around The Reach. It's a brand new facility meant to bring the K'laxi and I closer together. Made up of Human and K'laxi facilities, it will enable us to work even closer together to design ships.
FarReach has more K'laxi parts than any Starjumper ever! They still have their stardrive and massive printers and hidden laser batteries (just in case) but a lot of the interior was refitted and reconfigured to be an exploration ship. There's a new information warfare suite (hello!) hibernation cabinets (just in case) and enough cabins for a dozen crew with room to expand later.
Speaking of which, I bet you're wondering why an exploration ship has an Information Warfare Suite (and your lovely Information Warfare Officer). We're not planning on going to war per se, but we don't know who we'll be meeting (if anyone) and how friendly they'll be. A few years back Venus decided they didn't like AIs and tried to apply applications to shackle them. They seemed to have dropped the rhetoric and aren't really making noises about being mean to AIs anymore, but the lesson was learned. Now, ships have an IWC (Information Warfare Community) which is a group of people who have the job of making sure that all the signals coming in are... safe.
We can also send out bad signals if needed, but we probably won't need to do that.
As I walk up only slightly out of breath, Captain Q'ari is standing there fielding questions from reporters. She sees me walk up late and flicks an ear, a K'laxi raised eyebrow. I salute and say "Apologies for being late Captain. Permission to come aboard?"
She returns the salute and says "Permission Granted Lieutenant Mullen. Please endeavor to be more punctual from now on." From her ears, I think she's annoyed, but not too annoyed.
"Yes Captain. Thank you." I say and head inside. I rush to my cabin and toss my belongings inside without even putting them away - I'll do it later. and rush up to the Command Deck. "Hi FarReach! I call out brightly as I walk onto the Command Deck. It's set up human style with the Commander's seat in the middle rear, and everyone sitting around them at their stations.
"Good of you to join us Melody." FarReach says wryly. "I was wondering if you were going to show up on the back of a Fire Brigade vehicle." There were chuckles from the other crew members. I'm known as being slightly late for things.
Just a little late.
It's really hard to be punctual, okay?"
"Har har, very funny FarReach. I made it, on my own even, and I managed to remember my coffee supplies." I said smugly.
"Good thing too" FarReach said "Because I just happen to know that there are thirty pounds of coffee from the mountains of Parvati that was loaded on just this morning."
I gasped. Parvati's mountain ranges were known for producing excellent coffee from the original Earth stock. It was a rare treat. "How did you manage that?" I asked, surprised.
"She didn't have anything to do with it, that was all me." A voice said behind me. I turned and Ambassador Vivenni was standing there, looking casually elegant. She wore a smarty tailored uniform of the K'laxi government and stood there with her hands on her hips. "I heard that some people here enjoy good coffee and I happened to know offhand of a shipment coming in, and was able to... ahem... ask for a donation to the cause." she said, her eyes shining.
I didn't think to ask where she learned so much about coffee, it's poisonous to K'laxi. Even decaf will mess them up. They do love tea though, and I'm sure the stores are packed with chamomile tea as well as other flavors.
"Thank you Ambassador!" I said gratefully. "It's so nice of you to think of us coffee drinkers."
She smiled "I know a bit about coffee thanks to my human friends and when I saw this go by, I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!" And she turned back to speaking with another officer.
Maybe this trip would be more fun than I had originally thought.
Part 2!
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misctf · 7 months
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Tim took a deep breath as he wiped some sweat off his face with his shirt, making sure to show off his toned abdomen. A good run always helped him work up a sweat. And even better- the cute single girl that lived in the townhouse across from him had just gotten home and he wanted to give her a little show. They had spoken a few times and Tim was feeling good about his chances.
“Hey.” He said, motioning with his hand and giving her his signature smirk. Girls could barely resist it and he was good at playing the long game. Something his older brother taught him well. Give a few smirks, show off a little. It was only a matter of time before she caved. But until then, he could wait. He gave one final nod before he headed back inside his apartment, where he tossed his shoes to the side and started to head towards his room.
“Hey Mike!” He called out, awaiting the response of his roommate.
No response. Tim frowned- must’ve missed him. Mike probably left for home. And Tim couldn’t blame him. He had a lot going on anyway, even if things were getting better. It started about six months prior when Mike came out- shocking nearly everyone who knew him, especially Tim. Suddenly, Mike was a different person- no more gaming, going to sporting event, or bro talk- it was like his friend disappeared overnight. And the worst was his boyfriend, Jeremy. They apparently met at the gym and the guy was incredibly overbearing. So when Jeremy went back to his family home for the month, Tim was relieved. Especially when Mike started acting like his old self. And when Mike asked Tim for advice about breaking up with Jeremy, he was more than happy to help.
“Alright, gotta get a shower in, I smell ripe.” Tim mumbled pulling off his shirt.
“I think you actually smell good.” Tim jumped at the higher pitched voice that came from behind him. He turned around quickly, his eyes narrowing at none other than Jeremy, “Woah dude,” Jeremy mocked, “if looks could kill.” He teased.
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“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tim asked angrily, “And what the fuck are you wearing?” Tim was disgusted, looking at the nearly naked Jeremy. Yet he continued to stare, his eyes drawn to the jockstrap that covered the man’s package.  
“Oh I didn’t come here for Michael.” Jeremy sighed, “I wanted to speak to you actually.” Tim raised an eyebrow, “The breakup hurt, was a real shame honestly. But I guess Michael was stronger than I thought.” Jeremy smirked, “Eyes up here BTW.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Tim replied, blushing, unable to stop staring. Jeremy chuckled.
“I know you helped Michael overcome my influence.” Jeremy his voice lowered, “He’s strong willed, part of the reason I was so into him. But I thought my hypnosis was enough at the time.” The dark haired man reflected.
“What are you talking about? You sound insane.” Jeremy sauntered over to Tim, who tried to take a step back but couldn’t move.
“When I saw him in the gym that day, his muscles bulging and all sweaty, I just... wow.” Tim’s eyes widened as Jeremy reached his hand out, gently caressing his cheek. He wanted to punch the freak, but couldn’t move, “And I knew I had to make him mine. And damn Tim I was good. I nearly had him, but he resisted. And then I left for vacation and all he had was you.” He spat.
“You bastard... You fucking hypnotized him? What even...”
“But Timmy.” Jeremy cut him off, “I realized something. When I look at you, feel you, I...” His hand moved across Tim’s chest.
“I’m not falling for any of your BS hypnosis bro. I’m not gonna be your new boyfriend.” Jeremy replied confidently. And for a second, he felt the hold over him break and he pushed Jeremy away.
Jeremy smiled, “Oh Timmy, I don’t need a boyfriend right now.” Tim was confused and it was evident on his face, “Don’t flatter yourself.” He chuckled, “I think I need some time for myself.”
“So then... what the fuck do you want?” Tim forced out. He was feeling hotter, sweat running down his chest and back.
Jeremy smiled, “Well, let me show you!” He walked towards the closet, shaking his ass with each step- something Tim couldn’t help but stare at, “You see, I can’t have Michael and I accept that. But break ups are hard. And honestly...” Tim watched as Jeremy pulled out a dog mask from behind the bed. From what he could tell, it was black and grey, likely made of shiny rubber, “I’ve always wanted a pup.”
“Fuck no, get that shit away from me.” Tim tried to move, but again found his body unable to move, his eyes fixated on the mask.
“These masks have been in my family for generations actually. I picked it up before I came back from vacay.” Jeremy said, now inches away from Tim, “I’ve only seen them in action a few times.” He frowned as he caressed Tim’s cheek, “It’s such a shame. If only I saw you first at the gym that day, maybe we would’ve been great together. I’ll miss seeing this handsome face.” And before Tim could get a word of protest in, Jeremy forced the mask over Tim’s face, pulling it into position.
At that moment Tim felt a burning sensation all across his face wherever the mask was touching. He let out a yelp of pain and his hands shot to his face, attempting to pull and tug at the mask. Jeremy stepped back and watched as Tim fell to his knees, desperately pulling at the mask that covered him. But no matter how hard Tim pulled, the mask wouldn’t budge. He was barely aware that the remainder of his clothes were burning away, leaving him naked. He looked up at Jeremy with tears in his eyes.
“Get this fucking thing off me!” Tim cried out. He tried to get his hands up underneath the hood, but to his horror, it was like the edge of the mask had fused with the skin of his neck. There was nowhere to pull it off, “What is this shit?!” He pulled at the snout and let out a yelp of pain. It felt almost like he was tugging at his own skin. He only confirmed his theory when he went to pull at the ears and felt a similar pain.
“Timmy, I’d stop doing that if I were you, looks painful.” Jeremy chuckled, watching as Tim continued pulling, “Ah that’s right. Tim stop pulling at your face.” Jeremy commanded, and much to Tim’s horror, he felt his arms fall to his sides. He looked up at the dark haired man, tears falling from his eyes, “As you can see, the mask has certain... qualities. All good pups are obedient, right Timmy?” Tim nodded slowly, “But the thing is, Michael told me a lot about you while we were dating. And I think in reality, this role will suit you very well.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Tim breathed out, still staring up at Jeremy.
Jeremy smirked, “You’ve always been a follower.”
His voice was firm and Tim felt something wash over him. A strange feeling that made him nod slowly. A follower? What could that even mean? He always felt like a leader- captain of his lacrosse team in high school, president of several clubs in college, and now was leading a team at his investment job. Was he actually a follower? Maybe he always listened to his parents and was easily swayed by his peers at times, but a follower seemed a bit extreme, right?
Jeremy cleared his voice, “You’ve always done what you think is expected of you.”
Tim shuddered. His accomplishments, his success and leadership roles- all those things were just what other people expected of him. His teachers, his family, his friends, his boss. All expecting him to do things, be something. He remembered his dad always telling him that he needed to go into business to make an honest living. His mom had encouraged him to eat healthy and stay in shape. His older brother always pushing him in sports and giving him tips on how to pick up girls. And why? Why did they do it? And... did he actually want these things?
“The more you think about it, the more you realize you’ve never wanted anything for yourself, only ever wanting to be guided.”
Tim looked down at his naked form. He was always taking in input from others, always modeling his interests and pursuits on what others suggested or pushed him towards. Who was he exactly? A stereotype. A straight jock who majored in business who lusted after women. But he was happy, wasn’t he? Did he even want to be someone else? And even if this wasn’t him or who he wanted to be, he was still successful, he still had friends, he was setting himself up nicely for a good future. He was making them proud, and that gave him a sense of accomplishment. And being told what to do was helpful. It made life easy- everything was so simple when his life was planned.
Jeremy smirked as he watched two arm bands materialize around Tim’s toned arms, “That’s another thing Timmy, when’d you start shaving your body hair?”
Tim looked up at Jeremy, forced to answer the question, “When Mike and I first started working out, I was impressed by how clean shaven he is. In the locker room. It looked good.” Tim admitted, “And I thought, I’d look good like that too. And Mike encouraged me.” He looked down immediately, a feeling of shame washing over him, “All the men in my family are hairy though, they say that’s how real men should be. My brother thinks I looked like a sissy.”  
Jeremy nodded, “Grow out your body hair, all good pups are furry.”
And with that Tim let out a moan as an unbearable itchy sensation coursed across his abdomen and chest. Dark hairs began to sprout from his skin, covering his chest, abdomen, arms, legs, and back. His pits filled in with more hair as well, intensifying the smell from his run earlier that day. He looked down at himself, unable to speak. He was so hairy now, more so than his older brother. Maybe even rivaling his dad. He shuddered- wasn’t this okay though? How he should be? This was how it was meant to be for him- just a follower listening and obeying.
“Also, the mask is about 6 years old. That makes you 42 in human years since ya know, dog mask.”
Tim moaned again as he felt a new feeling wash over his 24-year old body. He watched as a firm layer of fat covered his once toned abdomen. His arms and legs were no exception as more fat built up, covering his previously toned muscles. The impact of aging didn’t stop there. Tim felt a new tiredness wash over him and a mild pain in some of his joints. His skin lost its youthful glow and he felt more hair sprout from his chest and abdomen. He was closer in age to his dad now and older than his brother. His older brother... no longer older... Tim smiled, he’d never be called squirt again or bullied by his bro.
“Timmy, I wanted to ask you. Why did you help Michael end it with me?”
Tim shook his head, “You were too overbearing, I wanted my bro back.” Even his voice sounded deeper, more gravely.
“Hmmm... It was because you were jealous. Because deep down you actually had feelings for him, in fact you’ve always wanted to be with men. You’ve only pretended to be straight.”
And Tim felt the wind get knocked out of him. He felt more tears form in his eyes. It was true- all those late night talks with Mike, trying to get closer to him. Staring at him in the locker room, at his beautiful glistening muscles. The way his biceps curled when he lifted, the bulging of his triceps and pecs. The way he smiled and paid attention to him. More thoughts of men crossed through Tim’s mind and he felt his interest in women disappearing- even the girl from across the street. It was true- his family, even Mike, would have never accepted him if he was gay. But now... now he didn’t have to worry. Because Jeremy accepted him... And with that, Tim felt a warmth build up within him and he felt his dick grow erect as he thought more about Mike and the things he wished his friend would do to him.
“No boy, you need to learn to be obedient. No getting hard unless I tell you.”
And suddenly a metal cage wrapped itself around Tim’s erect member. Tim howled as his dick softened and shrunk, losing more inches until his once impressive member was 2 inches soft and maybe 3 hard, if Jeremy ever gave him permission. As the cage sealed itself, a jock strap formed around it. Tim continued to breath heavily, a small whimper coming from his mouth. He was so small now, the pleasure so intense. But he couldn’t do anything about it but accept it. He was a good boy after all.
“Take all that love for Michael and I want you to focus it on me and me alone.”
The pleasure from his dick dwarfed the mental pleasure that erupted within his mind. Tim’s pupils dilated as he looked up at Jeremy, an intense love for the man standing in front of him radiated through his mind. Jeremy was perfect in every way- so handsome and so caring. The way he smiled, the way his body looked in the dim light of the room. There was never a more perfect man that Tim had the pleasure of seeing. And he would do anything for Jeremy. Anything at all. The thought of Mike was now just a distant memory. He tried to push himself to stand so he could hug Jeremy, but found that he was unable to stay steady on his own two feet, always falling back to all-fours.
“And you love me because I keep you well fed.”
“Because you keep me well fed!” Tim replied as his gut pushed out further, now hanging over his jockstrap. Whenever he moved now, his gut would jiggle. A leather harness materialized and wrapped snuggly around his shoulders and chest.
“And because I gave you that mask.” Jeremy continued.
“Recause rou rave re rat rask!” Tim raised an eyebrow. His words sounded different. It was hard to get them out, his tongue felt heavy, “Ry roice? Hard ro ralk! Wruff!” Try as he might, his words wouldn’t leave his tongue.
Jeremy smiled, “Because dumb pups don’t talk because they aren’t thinking too hard.”
And Tim’s eyes widened, before becoming half-lidded. Jeremy was right, always right. So smart. Insightful. He had enough intelligence for the both of them. And he could feel his intelligence draining- years of education locked away. The English language lost to him. Why would he need to think or speak intelligently? He wasn’t supposed to think. Just follow and obey.
“And because I gave you your new name.”
“Wruff wruff!” Tim barked, shaking his butt in the air.
Jeremy smiled, “I think I’ll call you Titan. How does that sound boy?”
Titan looked up with his big eyes, filled with lust and longing, “Bark!” A collar materialized around his neck, tightening until it became fully secured. A lock appeared, securing his new accessory in place. And finally, the name Titan engraved itself into his new collar. He leapt up, hands balanced on Jeremy’s shoulders as he nuzzled into his neck.
“Woah boy! Ha-ha you stink.” Jeremy chuckled, and Titan plopped down to all fours again. Jeremy scratched behind his new pup’s ear and grinned, “Oh Tim, if only you could see yourself now. Definitely an upgrade over Mike.” Titan tilted his head to the side, “You’re going to be my good boy forever.”
Six months had passed since that day and Jeremy yawned as he picked up the newspaper from outside. He chuckled as he read another headline about Tim and his odd disappearance. Not a sight, no leads, nothing. As he walked back inside his apartment, he smirked. There was Titan, his good boy looking up at him and whimpering. His hands up as he begged for a treat.
“Ha-ha damn you’re eager. I’m already drained from earlier this morning.” Jeremy chuckled. Titan whimpered, his eyes filled with lust. And Jeremy looked down at the paper and frowned. They would never know what happened to Tim- hell by this time there’d barely be anything left of Tim anyway. As he looked at his dumb, hairy, horny creation, Jeremy felt new resolve, “Well boy, I ought to take good care you, shouldn’t I?” A mischievous grin formed on his lips. And as he pulled down his pants to expose his erect member, Titan couldn’t help but be the happiest pup in the world.
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harryforvogue · 1 year
Note
Mia proof reading one of Harry’s emails or contracts trying to find something wrong but she can’t and literally making something up just to drive him crazy
"you know," harry says, looking up from his laptop. he's just left a meeting (a really long one that had mia sighing with impatience every few seconds) and now his attention is on his girlfriend who's bouncing on her heels in front of his desk. "working from home literally includes working."
they're both working from home today since they've been snowed in for the past two days. it's still snowing, in fact, and while harry is accustomed to working in his home office, this is new grounds for mia. she's always had to go to her job.
"how can i work when i'm at home?" she says, sighing again. she walks around towards him and hoists herself onto his desk, kicking her legs. "i'm in sweats. how can i concentrate when i'm in sweats?"
"change out of them," harry says.
"but i'm so cold."
"you'd probably work better too if you didn't try to do your job while still in bed."
mia groans. "but how can i resist it?"
harry shuts his laptop and leans back in his seat. mia's eyes shine. "oooh. are you done with work? do you want to--"
"i'm not done with work. i'm taking a 5 minute break to talk to my girlfriend who is still on the clock and not being a very good employee."
"you know what's also not good? capitalism. but you don't know anything about because you're a nepotism child." mia rolls her eyes. she kicks her legs for a little bit and then says, "can i sit in your lap?"
"here i thought you were going to yell at me some more for being a nepo baby."
"you are!"
"i am not denying it." he pats his thigh. "come on."
happily, she jumps off the desk and sits down on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "i've missed you."
harry laughs softly when she kisses his face. "you saw me at breakfast, didn't you? and then the four times you wandered into my office just because."
"well i missed you then too."
harry turns his head and kisses her properly. she instantly melts in his arms and kisses him back.
"working from home is hard," she mumbles, breaking away from him to kiss his jaw. "i wanna do this. i don't wanna do work. i wanna kiss."
he places his hands on her hips and tugs her closer. "i know. it's terrible. it's just simply not fair that we cannot go to work in our offices because there's 4 feet of snow outside."
"don't be mean."
"i'm never mean. just honest."
"hate when you say that."
"do you?"
"now you have to make lunch today."
"hey! i made it twice already. it's your turn."
"i can't. i'm too cold. and bored." she lifts her head up. "you know i've done most of my work already. if i do the rest now, it'll be all done by the next hour and then i'll have 5 hours to do nothing! while you'll be at work pretending i don't exist!"
"i'll be working," he reminds her gently. "not ignoring you."
"same thing!"
"i really don't think that's the sa--"
"i have nothing to do!" mia dramatically complains, nuzzling against his warm neck. "i'm gonna stay here now."
harry holds her for a long time just hugging her back, rubbing her shoulders, scratching her scalp. he feels her eyes flutter shut when her eyelashes brush against his neck. he turns his head to kiss her forehead gently.
"you can't fall asleep, baby."
"i can," she mumbles. "and i will."
"you want to help me with my work?"
"i don't understand your job. makes my brain hurt."
"it'll be something you're good at."
slowly, mia lifts her head back up and blinks at him. she rubs her eye and harry holds her face firmly in between his fingers when he kisses her for it. he fucking adores her.
"mm. okay." she slides off his lap and sits back on the desk, waiting for instructions.
"i have this contract that i need you to proofread. my editor has been away on vacation so i have to make sure it's perfect before i send it over to the client."
"okay. i can do that."
harry nods and opens his laptop. he clicks around a bit until he finds the file and then hands over the laptop to her. "it's just 4 pages. take your time. my next meeting isn't for another half hour. get whatever you can done, all right?"
"if i have your laptop, what are you going to use?"
harry gestures to the ipad he's just taken out of his drawer. mia scowls and says, "nepo baby."
he smiles and leans in to kiss her softly. "thank you."
mia works on the contract for a long time. she squints down at it and rereads it several times as harry works on his own things in front of her. she enlarges the text, reads the text from back to front, and frowns deeply at it.
if harry wrote this himself with no editor, then he's actually insane.
because she can't find a single typo, a single spelling error, or a single comma out of place.
the document is perfect.
and it makes her annoyed. a little mad too.
i'll find something, she insists to herself. a mere incorrect semi colon. an extra space after a period. she'll find something!
but the more she drives herself crazy with rereading the conditions written in the contract, the more horrified she is to admit that there are no faults in the document.
harry asks her 15 minutes later, "how does it look?"
mia glances up at him. "fine."
"just fine?"
"mhm." she flexes her fingers. "actually, this third clause in the contract is a run on sentence."
"is it?"
"yeah." she turns the laptop to show him. "see? too many ideas in one sentence. and the roman numerals totally throw you off."
"that's because there are separate conditions in the existing clauses."
"make them all individual sentences."
harry hesitates. "in legal writing, it's best to use the roman numerals. especially for conditions."
mia shrugs. "fine. if you're okay with an confusing document."
"confusing, is it?"
no, mia thinks to herself. this is like the most perfect contract i've ever seen in my life. "i mean it's good. but this change would make it better."
"i think... i think i'll leave it."
"fine. you also spelled your name wrong."
"what?"
she scrolls all the way up. "see? you wrote harty styles instead of harry styles."
"i did not! you changed that!"
"i didn't. i just can't believe you don't know how to spell your own name." she clicks her tongue. "sad."
harry raises his eyebrows in disbelief and then laughs. he leans forward and takes the laptop from her, shutting the top and setting it aside. once his ipad is secured beside her, he stands and leans down on the desk. he kisses her quickly, holding her hips firm against his.
"not a single mistake, hm?" he teases, tilting his head to kiss her over and over. she whines and grabs his collar, kissing him back.
"not a single one," she complains, kissing down his neck swiftly, all the way down to his collarbones as he throws his head back and laughs softly.
"just for that, you should be the one making lunch."
she whines again, wrapping her arms around his hips to make sure he doesn't move. "take a break. please. let's go to our room."
harry peeks at the clock. "my next meeting is in barely 3 minutes, baby."
"i can't wait that long!"
he smiles and gently pries her off of him. he holds her face and says, "you'll survive." he fixes his hair and collar and then sits back down opening his laptop again.
he's instantly focused on his work again while makes mia growl and kick her legs, irritated.
he glances at her. "it's only twenty minutes."
"that's so long!"
"i'm sure you can find something to do in those twenty minutes. like your job."
mia crosses her arms and hops off his desk. she goes to head out the door, but suddenly pauses. she waits until harry is logged into his meeting to crawl under his desk and smile all innocently at him.
"mia." he says it warningly, but also breathlessly. she's certainly not imagining he way he parts his thighs to let her in between them.
"you said to make myself busy."
when harry greets his employees, mia reaches for his belt, undoing it silently.
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gaybybirth · 2 years
Text
hawkins' sweetheart - ch five
Eddie Munson x virgin!fem!Reader (NSFW)
Hawkins’ Sweetheart Masterlist
Synopsis: When your desire to do more with Eddie becomes restricted given your current location, you decide to take a risk and change spots.
Warnings: nsfw & fluffy content; corruption & innocence kink, dirty talk, pillow humping, over the clothes touching, Eddie explains some topics (and teaches you about them), edging, multiple orgasms
Word Count: 5k
A/N: reader's taking risks, let's hope it doesn't fuck up like the last one did
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You were exceptionally quiet during your lunch date with the three girls. Lillian and Rose went on about their test, talking about a family vacation that was coming up, too. Hailey had to bring her brother along, and Andrew picked up two unused straws and banged them against the table like drumsticks. And Hailey, when everyone was suitably distracted by food, leaned over and dropped a bomb. 
“My, uh, mom talked to me the other day. A sly comment about making sure I tell her about all my plans—late night or not.” She flicked her brow eyes up and gave you an expectant look. “I don’t mind covering, but a heads up would always be nice.” 
“Oh, crap.” You dropped your fork. “My parents called them, didn’t they? You didn’t get in trouble, did you? Crap, Hailey. I’m so sorry.”
“No, I didn’t. You got lucky, actually. My parents have been getting more relaxed about certain rules since graduating high school. My curfew’s been extended until one in the morning.”
“Wow, that’s…wow.” Yours was still ten o’clock. “Still, I’m so sorry.”
“Want to tell me why you were actually sneaking out?” 
“I’m, uh…” You fiddled with your ring before putting your hands on your lap. “I found my own Robert. I think. I don’t know. I just…I feel like I’m trapped in a box and I want to poke a few air holes in it.”
Hailey sat back and nodded. “Fair enough.”
She reached over and took your hand in hers. She gave it a gentle squeeze and reached across with her other hand and stole a bite of your salad. 
“Just be careful. My parents are more…carefree…than yours. Don’t want to see anything bad happen there.” She eyed you as she swallowed. “But this…hole poking. It’s making you happy?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Then keep doing it.”
You touched yourself two more times before you had to go to the church for the yard sale. All the profits were going to the local humane society and the whole front yard was littered with an assortment of objects. You and David were working the money box, giving everyone big smiles and warm greetings as they paid for their items. You felt a little bad, but as you sat next to David, there was one thing you could pinpoint. 
Or couldn’t pinpoint. 
You felt nothing when sitting beside him. He was nice, attractive, and very sweet. But he didn’t make you feel the same way Eddie had. And it was probably dangerous to associate those feelings with Eddie considering the whole ‘no strings attached’ thing, but…well. The more you replayed your time with him, the more you wanted to continue it. So you had to keep reminding yourself that you and Eddie? You had a transactional relationship. 
You tutored, he touched. 
Or, he taught. But he had touched in the process. And you couldn’t stop freaking thinking about his fingers or his mouth or his little whispers as you moaned. It made you shift in your seat, and a bit of wetness pooled between your legs the more you thought about him. 
You glanced up at the giant cross on the front of the church and muttered an apology. It was probably some sort of extra offense to be thinking about premarital sex with the man who led the local satanic-esque club. 
You weren’t as religious as Jodie, Lillian, or Rose, but you could feel the blasphemy radiating from you.
You tried it again in the shower before classes on Monday. You pretended Eddie was in there with you, hand between your legs as you leaned against the cold tile. The drastic temperature change between the wall and the steaming water was overwhelming but as it skated over your senses, it just made you cum faster. 
For the first time in weeks, you actually felt semi-relaxed before going to classes. Before having to deal with Spencer and his over-attentive mother. He even asked if you’d had some good news “or some shit” because you were in such a good mood. You ruffled his blond hair and told him to get back to work, pointing at the science problem on the worksheet in front of him. 
“See you Wednesday, Spencer,” you said as you walked towards the picnic table. Your heart jump-started in your chest when you saw Eddie already leaning against it. He was holding a worn-out book that he closed as soon as he glanced up and saw you. “Hey, Munson.”
“Hey, sweet girl.” His eyes glinted as he looked over you in your baggy purple sweater that felt sexier than it was. “Long time no see.” 
“You, uh, ready?” You motioned to the table, and Eddie smirked as you took small steps towards the table. 
“Mhm.” He plopped down next to you. “Looking fairly relaxed today. Have a good weekend?” 
“Yeah, something like that.” You dropped your notebook on the table and cleared your throat. “Did some experimenting.” 
“Y-Yeah?” Eddie laughed and peered over at you. “You get a little taste and want it all now, huh?”
You shoved him, but he barely budged. He reached up and played with the clasp on your necklace, making your breath hitch a bit. Each brush of his fingers made your heart skip a beat. He made no comment about how you subconsciously leaned against his touch, and he dropped his other hand in front of you. It was close enough for the tips of his fingers to graze yours. 
“I’m glad I could help. I’m being serious, too. Uh, you look a lot more relaxed.” His hand dropped from your necklace and skimmed down your back. “If you ever got any more questions, you still got my number, right?”
“Yeah.” You opened your notebook. “I got it.” 
A bit of silence passed as you and Eddie worked. It was comfortable and you couldn’t help the small flutters in your chest whenever Eddie’s knee would knock against yours or his hand would come close to yours. 
“Feel like I owe you a bit more,” Eddie said about halfway through the session. “You, uh, helped me out so much already. Feel like I owe you a bit more.”
You peered up at him, and he shrugged casually. He went back to scribbling on the worksheet, and you sufficiently tuned your mind off from your work. There was one option, but you weren’t sure how viable it was. It was based on information you’d overheard back in school, and given how much time had passed, it was possible it was true anymore. But since you couldn’t exactly do anything at school and you definitely couldn’t keep sneaking Eddie in—it was worth the shot. 
Even if you’d be on permanent house arrest if your parents found out. 
“Does your uncle still work night shift?”
“Should I be concerned how you know that?” Eddie cocked a brow, but his playful smile remained. “Stalking me, (Y/N)?”
“Heard you mention it back in school. Don’t ask me the context, I barely even remember you saying that.” You crossed and uncrossed your legs. “But does he?”
���He does.”
You’d get in so much trouble if you got caught, but wanted more alone time with Eddie. Desperately needed it. 
“When, uh, when does he leave for it?”
“Five o’clock.”
“I, uh, you know. We could always relocate our sessions to your trailer. Push them back an hour. You don’t live that far from me, so it’d actually be closer to my house.” You looked down at your hands. “Besides. You saw mine, I should see yours.”
Eddie laughed and shook his head. His hair was more unruly today and you reached out and finger-combed some of the stray strands down. 
“You sure? Really wanna risk that?” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Can't imagine your parents would like it.”
“I'll tell them I took up an extra student so I have to stay out later.” Your eyes were fixed on Eddie’s rings. Mind engulfing in fog as you remembered the phantom touch of his fingers dragging across the seam of your shorts. “I'm sure.”
“Okay.” He reached across and scribbled down his address onto your notebook page. “Be there five o’clock Wednesday.”
“I’ll be there.”
You stood outside his trailer. Tuesday had passed quickly despite the excitement to see Eddie at his trailer the next day. You credited it to the underlying anxiety. The worry of getting caught. But it wasn’t like someone was going to see you there. Well, someone who’d tell your parents. And it wasn’t like you were going to get home late and, if your parents were strict on the direction in which you pulled into the driveway, you still came from the same direction. 
They bought the extra student lie. You got a lecture about not taking on too much work, but you reassured them that you felt more confident than ever. You'd be able to handle the workload. But the second it got too much, you'd reconsider your schedule. 
“Promise,” you said, smiling at your parents. 
It was five on the dot and only Eddie’s car was parked outside. There was the faint scent of cigarette smoke as you stepped up the stairs and pulled the screen door back. It took a few deep breaths before you knocked. 
The door opened almost immediately. 
Eddie’s hair was damp, wetting his Metallica shirt. He grinned wide and proud as he stepped aside and held his arm out. 
“Welcome, welcome. Come in.” 
You stepped inside and instantly stopped to look around. The front door brought you into a small living room—mugs and hats hung from shelves and the wall. They had a small television, a folding bed, a couch and a recliner. Eddie laughed a little nervously as you walked to the left, looking around the kitchen and small eating space. Past the washer and closet and the bathroom. It smelled like vanilla, spice, and a bit of weed, beer, and cigarette smoke. 
There was a candle spotted in the bathroom as you walked towards the cracked bedroom door, the flame flickering high. 
“Just going straight to snooping, huh?” Eddie came up behind you, hand on the doorframe as you nudged his bedroom door open. 
But as you went to take a step inside his room—eyes trying to take in the onslaught of posters, tapestries, amps, books, and clearly made bed—Eddie tugged you back. 
“Hey.” You frowned as he reached forward and closed his bedroom door. “You got to snoop.”
“Mhm, but…” He motioned back towards the couch. “We have schoolwork to do first. Bedroom’s off limits.”
You narrowed your eyes as Eddie led you to a small table by the front door and held out his hand. He was a bit fidgety as he sat across from you and turned a worksheet towards you. It was a classic open textbook worksheet, and you responded to Eddie by pulling out your own homework. He smirked as he pulled the worksheet back and started scribbling on it, his textbook slightly overlapping with your notebook. 
He was halfway through the worksheet when he jumped up. You only spared him a passing glance as he cursed and went to his fridge, and pulled out two water bottles. He gave you a soft smile as he sat them down on the table before returning to his seat, his feet nudging yours underneath the table. 
“Eddie,” you murmured. 
“Hm?” He looked up, cocking a brow. “Please do not ask me to help with your homework. Already struggling here as it is.”
“I like your home.” 
A faint blush dusted his cheeks.
“Well, it’s no suburban shit with plastic pink flamingos and an annoyingly green lawn.” His eyes widened, and you already knew whose house he was talking about. They had about four pink flamingos, and you stared at them every day before you left for classes. “But…thank you.” 
You worked for a little over forty-five minutes, finishing most of your assignment and all of Eddie’s. There was a finality when he closed his textbook, and you glanced up. If he had any other homework, he had no intention of doing it. And as soon as his eyes met yours, you felt that restless feeling swirl all the way back between your legs. 
“So…” He tapped his hands on the table, the chair squeaking as he leaned forward. “Got any more questions for me? Any more, uh, lingering curiosities?” 
That restless feeling tripled. 
“You said there were other ways…to do what we did the other night.” You couldn’t hold his gaze and Eddie clearly loved every second of it. “What kind of ways?”
You started out at the table and it was all talk. Eddie talked you through what you could do by yourself. Some would be a little harder since you lived with your parents and you were limited on noise—so most toys were out of the question. But you could use your fingers if you wanted to go beyond outside stimulation. You could also use a pillow.
That’s how you ended up on the couch. 
Eddie had a stipulation. If he was going to show you anything, it wasn’t going to be in his room. Not on his bed. You didn’t argue as he retrieved a pillow from his bed, still trying to peek in at all he had in there. The sight of a hanging electric guitar made you smile. Made you wonder what he looked like playing that while at The Hideout. 
But you weren’t left with much time to think. Eddie had you beside him on the couch, pillow folded and between your legs. He sat behind you, hands on your hips, mouth beside your ear. You felt close to erupting as Eddie slowly guided your hips on the pillow, your dress leaving very little barrier between you and the thing. 
“Grind how it feels good,” he murmured. “Like how you do with your fingers, finding the, uh, best spot.” 
You bit back a moan and Eddie’s fingers twitched on your hips. 
“Don’t gotta hold back here. Just you and me.” 
So the next moan that slipped out, you didn’t try to stifle. And that grip on your hip worsened until Eddie pried his fingers off. He pressed a hand to your back to make you arch it and slide to sit in front of you. Pulled your hands forward, making you put your weight there. It was almost laughable how professional he was being about it until you cracked your eyes open and saw that faint blush back on his cheeks. 
When your eyes locked, hands on your wrists, you felt yourself clench around nothing inside you. 
“Feeling good?”
“Very.” You swallowed a wave of nerves. The next words slipped out of you without meaning to and your hips stopped. “Miss your fingers though.”
Your eyes dropped to where his hands twitched on your wrists. Crap. You technically meant to say you preferred the finger method, but it wasn’t a lie that you were missing his specifically. 
No strings. You repeated the words about ten times, hips stalled before Eddie leaned forward and smirked. 
“Up,” was all he said. 
And when you moved off the pillow, he was kicking it aside and pulling you onto his lap. His mouth grazed your cheek as he kicked your legs open and pulled your dress up. His chest rumbled when he looked down and saw your white underwear stuck to you from the wetness. 
“There’s some other stuff you can do while doing this, too. Alone or with a partner.” He skimmed his fingers along the inside of your thigh and you clenched your jaw. This was not how you’d expected the evening to go. But you were not going to complain. “Like holding your breath or choking, talking dirty, edging or denial. Things to…experiment with.”
Your head swam at his words—doubly when his fingers finally went between your legs and pressed to your clit. He found it easily, and as you pressed yourself back against him, he wrapped his other arm around you. 
“You can also try playing with these,” he murmured, guiding one of your hands up to your chest. 
When you looked at him confused, Eddie laughed, body shaking beneath you. 
“Nipples, baby.” He had you cup your chest, and you clamped your eyes shut, hips moving in time with how he rubbed your clit. “You can play with your nipples.”
“O-Oh.”
“It’s easier when you’re wearing a little less clothing. So that’s an alone time experiment.” He worked his fingers a little faster, making you whimper and squirm. “But the others? Any curiosities?” 
You could barely remember what he’d even listed, brain fogged from the pleasure. From the surreal reality of being alone with Eddie in his trailer, his fingers between your legs, making you feel so freaking good. And as you cracked your eyes open and glanced down at the ring on your finger, you felt only excitement. The guilt was long gone and you grabbed onto Eddie’s leg as another moan left you. 
“All of ‘em.” You mostly said it because you couldn’t remember. “Wanna know everything.”
“Think you’re a little drunk on the pleasure, baby,” Eddie murmured. “But I’ll explain.”
He started with edging, both in practice and in explanation. Because he didn’t want you to cum until he finished explaining everything. He had you count, too. Making you croak the numbers out as he pushed you to what felt like a breaking point. You got to three as he told you about edging, five as he finished breath play and choking, and seven as he mentioned denial. 
“That’d be like if I left you just like this,” he whispered, lifting his fingers as you muttered an eight. “And I think you already know what dirty talk is.”
He kept his fingers off of you as your body trembled. You were covered in a sheen of sweat, and when you dared a glance down at his watch, you knew you were going to be in trouble if you didn’t clean yourself up before going home. But you were getting closer to having less and less time for that. 
“Although I don’t know how much a mind as sweet as yours could conjure up. Doubt you’d ever had a dirty thought till recently. Didn’t even know what feelin’ horny was or how to touch yourself.” Eddie finally touched you again. “Things like having that pretty pussy stuffed. With a toy, cock, or cum. Or whispering about how sweet you taste and how tight and needy you are. That you’re so desperate to cum, you’ll ride my cock until you’re cumming all over it.”
A groan left you and you weren’t sure where to grab. Eddie was pushing you back to the breaking point and you had no idea if he was going to finally let you shatter. 
“Go ahead, baby. Not going to keep it from you this time.” 
You reached back and grabbed a fistful of Eddie’s hair as you came, hips lifting from his lap. That snapping feeling was ever more present, more potent, as he continued to touch you. Your moan left you through your teeth, choking out of you and ripping through the quiet room. Crap. You felt yourself gush and it made a diluted rush of embarrassment hit you, and you hid yourself in Eddie’s neck. 
Eddie had to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from falling off his lap as you relaxed. He nuzzled the side of your head and chuckled, squeezing you tight as you panted. You felt a little gross, covered in sweat and shaking as much as you were, but Eddie kept you in his arms. 
“Holy crap,” you huffed out. “Eddie…”
“Feel good?”
“Understatement, but yeah.”
“Good.” He squeezed your waist. “Take a sec, I’ll get you some water.”
“Wait,” you said, turning on his lap. He was grinning when you faced him, and you had a feeling you had some mascara staining your cheeks. “Next time, um. Can you show me…how to use my fingers inside myself? That’s a fairly unknown area for me.”
Eddie tensed and helped you off his lap. He said nothing as he grabbed your water from the table, passing it to you as he sat beside you on the couch. 
“Can’t.” He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. “Over the clothes only, remember?” 
You nodded and took a sip of your water. 
“Right, sorry.”
Not much else was said as you retreated to his bathroom to clean up and make yourself look remotely presentable. He was smoking a cigarette on his porch when you finished, holding it away from you as you stepped up beside him to say bye. 
“You’ll regret it,” he said as you started down his porch steps. “I’m me, (Y/N). I think you’ll regret it if you let me take too many of your firsts.” 
“You think I view that little of you?” You opened your car door and chucked your bag in. 
“No, you’re way too sweet for that.” He looked down at the cigarette in his fingers. “But I think you’ll regret asking a guy like me for help instead of having that sweet, rose petals on the bed equivalent of, uh, first times. Even for the small things.” 
You started to say his name, but he just smiled. 
“I will tell you whatever you want to know, baby, but I am not going to become a regret for you.” 
You were going to respond, but a familiar-looking car coming into the lot had you getting into your car. Eddie waved as you pulled out and you waved back. But his words did have you thinking. Through classes, through your next tutoring sessions, through the extra three you had on Saturday as you helped them prepare for upcoming big tests and presentations. You had to cancel your night out with your friends, but you had plans to go to the movies next week, so you’d catch up with them then. 
And thankfully, as Sunday finished and you came back from a volunteer gig at David’s church again, you shared some wonderful news with them. David had a girlfriend. They’d met at the last volunteer gig and were officially, as he stated while you made food baskets for those in need, courting. He even asked what flowers he should buy her for their third date. 
You barely had a response, stuck thinking about how awkward the next few sessions at Eddie’s were going to be. 
Monday especially. 
You weren’t sure if you wanted to talk about the elephant in the room, so you ignored it. You talked about classes, about the nerves of walking through your front door last Wednesday after your first in-home session with him. 
“Given that you’re here, I take it you didn’t get caught?” He asked with a sly smile, eyes glittering across the table. 
“Yup. Didn’t think anything of it.”
“Good.” 
That night, he had you on his thigh. He whispered praises in your ear as his hands guided your hips along his ripped jeans. Grinding seemed to be the theme. Or, thigh riding, more specifically. That if you really wanted to give your future partner a show, you’d get yourself off on their leg. Didn’t matter whether you’re naked or fully clothed—as you were—watching a girl “as pretty and sweet as you” get yourself off on his leg was more than sexy. 
He showed you a few ways to use your mouth, too. Showing where to kiss both on you and himself. 
Told you where to nip and suck, where to leave hickies if you wanted to. He had you leave one near his collarbone and your breath hitched as he tugged his collar down, exposing the two tattoos he had there. He laughed when your hips stuttered and you lifted your fingers, dragging over them and tracing the lines. One was a spider, the other a head of something that definitely matched Eddie’s aesthetic. You’d seen the ones on his arm—the bats, the puppet, and what he said was a Wyvern—but you hadn’t seen these two. 
“Ever thought about getting your own?” He tugged on your hips. 
“No. Tattoos are definitely against the rules.” But you leaned down and kissed the ink. “I like yours though.”
“Thanks.” He grinned and drew his mouth along your neck. You were starting to get addicted to the feeling of his mouth on your skin. 
You collapsed on the couch after you came, huffing as Eddie ran a hand up your leg. Glancing up showed a very clear wet spot on his jeans—even if they were blacker than your mascara—and you rolled over and buried your face into the couch. 
“Hey,” he muttered, tapping the inside of your thigh and making you part your legs. You gasped as his hand came up and skimmed over your underwear. The back of his knuckles grazed where you could still feel yourself squeezing around nothing, your heart racing in your chest the whole time. “Do I need to remind you that that’s a good thing?”
“It’s embarrassing,” you spoke against the cushion. You’d just cum and you still angled your hips for Eddie to touch you. 
“Nah, baby. It’s hot.” His breath shuddered out of him as you pressed yourself up a bit, and only when your dress rode up over your ass did you realize the position you were in.
Hips raised, ass in the air, hands grabbing onto the couch as Eddie teased your clit. When you tensed before slowly starting to lower yourself down, Eddie’s other hand grabbed your hips. 
“Stay,” he said, bringing the tips of his fingers to your clit. “Stay.”
You hadn’t even known you could cum again before Eddie had you panting and whining into the couch. And he had you on the verge of tears the whole time, drawing it out as much as he could, holding your hips still. He whispered little things that made you burn down your neck and he even gave your ass a light tap. Nothing too hard, but enough to cause a sting that you liked. A lot.
“Good time to probably tell you,” he whispered as you came down from your second orgasm. “There are a lot of positions to try out.” 
You grunted into the couch as Eddie rubbed your back. You stayed like that until he reminded you of the time and you rolled off. You really, really wanted him to put his fingers in you. You’d tried it a few times yourself, but it felt so foreign and strange that you gave up every time. You had no idea what you were doing down there and it was just like touching yourself before—you were too embarrassed.
“You okay?” Eddie leaned in the doorway of the bathroom, looking you over as you leaned your forehead against the cool counter. When you looked up, you wiped a damp piece of toilet paper to your cheeks to clean the mascara stains off. You laughed when Eddie held out an unopened package of mascara. “Feel bad making yours wash away.” 
You ignored the bubbly feeling passing through you as you looked down at it. 
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat and opened the package. You couldn't not use it now. “Just embarrassed, that’s all.”
“Knowing you get that wet for a person, that’s a compliment, (Y/N).” Eddie’s eyes stayed on your face. “It’s a real sexy thing.”
“Not, uh, not just that.” You blinked the mascara on and Eddie watching in the mirror. 
“The position?” 
“Yeah.” You closed the bottle and contemplated between putting it in your bag or leaving it on the counter. Eddie said nothing as you sat it beside the two toothbrushes next to the sink. “Uh, just…I don’t know. I’m just a little embarrassed by it.”
“I promise, the view it gives is nothing to be embarrassed about.” Eddie pushed up from the doorway. “It’s real fuckin’ sexy.”
You closed your eyes and sighed. He had to know what he was doing to you. 
“Hey, Eddie,” you asked as you stood beside his front door. He leaned beside you, the sounds of the tv soft behind you. “I, uh. Can I ask a favor for next time?”
“Anything.” 
“Can you, uh, would you mind. Um. Well.” 
Your words came out in stutters and Eddie reached up and tugged you close. You were rendered sufficiently speechless as Eddie’s mouth pressed against yours. You bumped into the tv behind you as he unexpectedly deepened the kiss, tongue grazing yours, only staying long enough to make you whimper. 
When he pulled back, it was just enough to break the kiss. His nose nudged yours as his thumb dragged along your bottom lip. 
“Ask away.”
“Can you talk me through how to use my fingers inside me?” You kept your eyes closed. “I-I’ve tried, but I don’t know what I’m doing. Not asking you to touch, just—”
“Yeah,” Eddie murmured back. “I can talk you through it.” 
You felt your body relax and Eddie pulled back, reaching out and squeezing your hand. You hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room, but you felt a lot more comfortable leaving Eddie’s than you had last time. Even if part of that was directed towards your next lesson with Eddie and the urge to practice that same position again, imagining what Eddie must have seen. 
That anticipation and excitement hadn’t lasted though. You’d gotten instructions for a massive assignment the next day and barely had time to work on it in between helping students. And you had absolutely no time that evening when your parents had friends over for dinner. Ones that you had to look perfect for. Making you help your mother around the house before they got there—even if the house was already spotless before their arrival. 
The stress kept you quiet for most of the dinner. The silent desire to retreat to your room, roll onto your stomach, and touch yourself while thinking about Eddie was what kept you grounded. For the first time, you found yourself exhausted listening to the light, performative laughter as your parents’ friends cracked dry jokes. 
You peered down when your ring clinked against your glass. 
It was going to be a long, long night. 
325 notes · View notes
rocketrhap3000 · 2 years
Text
off limits ~
part ii.
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summary: your run-ins with pedro become more frequent, causing you to set an ultimatum for yourself. you leave to go on vacation with oscar, elvira, the boys, and pedro, too. unfortunately you find it extremely difficult to be around pedro due to the nature of your feelings towards him. that is, until you find yourself in an extremely undesirable situation that he helps you out of, and the two of you have a little heart to heart.
warnings: probably swearing, awkwardness between pedro and reader, reader gets unwanted attention at a grocery store/catcalling, pedro helps her out, establishing an age gap relationship (pedro is his current age, reader is about 25 - if you have a problem with this then DONT READ)
a/n: part two yay! thanks for the love on the first part, i hope y’all enjoy this one 🤍
no beta, all errors are my own!
main masterlist
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The next few weeks pass quickly. You see Oscar and Elvira and the boys nearly every day, meaning you’ve had a few more run ins with Pedro, too.
Just a few days after driving you home, he appeared at your door unannounced with a tiny tube of lip balm in his large hand. Apparently you’d left it in his car - must’ve fallen out of your pocket or something - and he wanted to get it back to you. But making the extra trip just for a lip balm? Yeah, he’s got you good. You smiled, thanked him, then asked him, “how’d you know it was mine?” to which he simply responded, “you’re the only woman besides Elvira that’s been in my car recently, and when she said it wasn’t hers, I knew it had to be yours.”
Then, one evening he came over to Oscar and Elvira’s for dinner, just as you were getting ready to leave for the day. However, between the three adults insisting you stay, along with the boys begging you, too, who were you to refuse them? Conversation flowed smoothly, and Pedro made sure to ask plenty of questions to get to know you more. But the more he asked and the more he seemed invested in getting to know you, the deeper you started to fall for him.
A few days later, he stopped by the house again, but this time while Oscar and Elvira were both out. Oscar had left a folder of documents - which you could only assume was for an upcoming project - for Pedro to pick up. The boys were ecstatic to see him, and you were glad, too. You were especially surprised when he offered you a cup of Starbucks, telling you that they’d made his drink wrong and gave him the mess up one, so he thought to give it to you. But he didn’t stay long after that, and left within a few minutes.
And by the time Oscar and Elvira get back home that evening, all you can think about is the beauty and absolute gentleman of a man Pedro Pascal is.
In fact, your thoughts are so consuming that it’s that night, while talking with your roommate about the entire situation, that you decide to start pulling yourself away from Pedro. Your feelings towards him are too strong and you can’t jeopardize your relationship with this family all because you have a little crush on their (mind you, wildly inappropriately older) friend. It wouldn’t be fair to Oscar and Elvira, and certainly wouldn’t be fair to the boys if things were to get out of hand with Pedro, causing you to be unable to work for them.
The next encounter with Pedro was the night before the trip. Oscar and Elvira had offered for the both of you to stay the night so that leaving in the morning would be easier. Luckily, to save from driving any more, you were able to spend the night in one of their guest rooms. Pedro accepted, too, and camped out just down the hall from you.
However, the two of you had to share the guest bathroom. And seeing him walk out from his shower in just a towel hanging loosely around his hips, broad chest damp with condensation, and that mop of salt and pepper curly hair only fueled the fire of your imagination. He apologized profusely upon realizing he was not alone in this part of the house, hoping he hadn’t made you uncomfortable.
And after sneaking into the bathroom to complete your own nightly routine, then heading back to your room, it took you a while to fall asleep with that steamy image of Pedro stuck in your head.
~~~
The next morning, you wander out of your room just as the sun comes up; before Pedro, Oscar, Elvira, or the two boys. You’d set an alarm last night for probably earlier than you needed to, not wanting to take the risk of being the one to oversleep and hold everyone up.
However, Pedro is close behind you in rising, giving you only a few moments in the kitchen to yourself, getting a pot of coffee started for everyone, before his soft voice startles you.
“Morning, (Y/n),” he yawns, sleep still lingering in his baritone voice.
You spin around to face him, heart racing in your chest as your gaze falls on his sleepy appearance. His hair is mussed perfectly, his big, brown eyes are still glazed over, and he’s sporting a pair of loose, grey sweats and a ragged old Fleetwood Mac tee shirt.
“Morning,” you echo, finding it in yourself to turn back around to check on the coffee.
“How’d you sleep?” Pedro asks, sock-clad feet sliding over the pale, hardwood flooring to get to a stool at the counter.
Of course, you can’t say, ‘I stayed up half the night trying not to imagine what was under that towel and what it would feel like to get my hands on your big, strong chest. How’d you sleep?’
So instead, you opt for a simple, “Good. You?”
“Good, thanks,” he returns, giving you a small smile.
“Coffee?” you then offer quietly, seeing that the pot is almost full.
“I’d love some,” he nods, so you grab a mug from the cabinet and fill it with the freshly brewed beverage.
Handing it over to him, he gives you another smile, and you’re either too nervous or simply not awake enough to hear when he thanks you using that term of endearment - Sweetie - that left your knees shaking just a few weeks ago.
So, you stupidly turn around, ignoring his sweet remark as you pour yourself a cup of coffee, then disappear back up to your guest room.
Within the next hour that passes, Oscar, Elvira, and the two boys both wake up, and it’s not long before the six of you are all packed into the car and headed to the airport.
~~~
Thankfully, the plane isn’t too chaotic. The only issue that’s presented is the fact that your seats, despite the tickets being bought all together, end up being sprawled out all over the plane. Luckily, Oscar and Elvira manage to convince some folks to swap with them so that their young sons aren’t seated alone on this big airplane. And however it happened, you end up seated by Pedro.
You’re not complaining, but you sure aren’t celebrating. Seven hours stuck in a flying metal box next to the one man that you find criminally good looking, absolutely intimidating, and irresistible? Yeah, this will be difficult.
“Please enjoy your flight,” is all you hear over the plane’s intercom. It seems you’ve missed the pilot’s entire pre-take off speech, so hopefully Pedro was paying attention to the spiel about the emergency procedures.
“You excited?” his voice breaks you from your thoughts, turning your gaze from out the window over to him.
“Sorry?” you ask, swallowing nervously at the thought that this is where it starts; the downfall of your dignity, losing your mind over this absolute treasure of a man.
“Are you excited? To get to California, I mean,” he repeats himself, but he isn’t rude about it.
“Oh. Yeah,” you shrug and give him a barely-there smile.
“Me, too. I could use some beach time,” he chuckles, hoping to earn a better reaction from you. But when he doesn’t, he huffs quietly in frustration at your lack of response.
However, you’re glad for the minute of silence, and you hope he doesn’t try to talk to you the entire flight; you’d either get way too tongue tied, or get too comfortable and embarrass yourself by talking too much.
But alas, after another moment or two, he speaks up again.
“So when do you start back to school?”
“Uh,” you clear your throat, then continue. “Well, I’ve been taking three courses over this summer, so I technically never stopped,” you answer plainly, with a timid shrug.
“Oh, sorry,” he chuckles dryly.
“You’re good. But, I mean, the fall semester starts September sixth,” you finish.
“Cool. And you’ll graduate in the spring then?”
“That’s the plan,” you sigh, hoping he doesn’t pick up on the way your voice shakes when he gives you a smile.
But he mistakes your sigh of nerves for a sigh of annoyance; you unintentionally shut him out.
He nods once more, then grabs his earbuds from his backpack carryon. Next thing you know, he’s popping them in his ears and tuning out the world. And that includes you.
~~~
For the rest of the flight, the two of you barely interact. The only times are when you have your own earbuds in and he grabs your attention to see if you want anything from the flight attendant, when he apologizes for bumping his knee against yours, and when you have to excuse yourself getting past him going to and from the bathroom.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t felt the urge to rest your head on his shoulder while drifting off for a quick nap, but you knew that would be completely inappropriate.
And then, seven hours later, the two of you are reunited with Oscar, Elvira, and the boys; then, picking up the two rental cars. You opt to ride to the house with Oscar and Elvira, offering to help out with the boys right away instead of enduring another half hour of awkwardness with Pedro.
Unfortunately, when you get to the guest part of the house, you only find one room, and your stomach drops. If you have to share a room with Pedro, you don’t know what you’ll do.
But Pedro is quick to sort things out with Oscar; apparently there’s only one guest room, but a separate little house down by the pool, right before the path to the beach.
Pedro kindly offers to stay in the beach house so that you’re in the main house with the boys, and so that you won’t have to walk out alone at night, although you know this neighborhood is wealthy and well-protected.
Before you know it, everyone is settled into the house and rushing out to the beach for some fun.
~~~
“She’s pretty cute,” Pedro admits, watching as you hold the toddler while the older boy hangs off your back, giggles erupting from their little bodies, and from yours, as well as you spin them around in the shallow water.
“Who?” Elvira asks, wondering which lucky lady on the private beach strip has caught their single friend’s attention.
“(Y/n),” Pedro lightly blushes, trying but failing to avert his eyes from the heavenly sight of you, glowing under the late afternoon sun.
“Dude. You can’t hit on our nanny,” Oscar laughs and shakes his head.
“I’m not!” Pedro laughs, holding his hands up in defense.
“You literally just said she’s cute,” Oscar deadpans.
“I meant like, cute… sweet. Like, cute with the boys,” Pedro shrugs, trying to make a cover.
“Well, that she is,” Elvira agrees.
“But she’s off limits,” Oscar defends, leaning forward in his beach chair to look over at his friend with a scowl.
“Oscar,” Elvira scolds him. “(Y/n)’s not a little girl, and you are not her father. She can decide for herself who she wants to be around.”
“Yeah, as long as it’s not Pedro,” Oscar growls.
“Oscar,” Elvira warns him again before turning to their friend. “Pedro, I know Oscar is being childish right now, but I do see where he’s coming from. (Y/n) is the best person we could have ever dreamed of having for the kids. And if you two were to get together and then break up badly…”
“We don’t want you to scare her away,” Oscar states bluntly.
“Man, I’m not going to scare her away. I’ve barely even talked to the girl since you forced me to drive her home that night,” Pedro points out, as if he hadn’t enjoyed that little time he got to spend with you.
“You sat by her on the plane, Pedro,” Oscar rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, and we talked, but… didn’t talk. She’s so quiet, I could hardly pull a word from her the entire flight,” Pedro explains.
“Really?” Oscar wonders, clearly surprised at Pedro’s observation.
“Yeah. I think I could count on one hand the number of full sentences she spoke to me. Eventually, I just gave up and let her be,” he shrugs, the disappointment that he felt coming back to him, filling his chest.
“That’s not like her,” Elvira shakes her head.
“It’s not?” Pedro asks.
“No,” Oscar also shakes his head. “I mean, she’s quiet and polite and respectful, but she’s not that quiet. I mean, she’s bubbly and can hold a conversation.”
“Well she clearly didn’t want to hold one with me,” Pedro scoffs.
“She’s a sweet girl, Pedro. Maybe you just caught her on a bad day,” Elvira defends you.
“Or maybe she just doesn’t like you,” Oscar smirks and laughs.
“Cállate, man,” Pedro chuckles, acting as if he’s brushing off the joke that his friend made.
Although, deeper down, the thought of you not liking him makes him upset. He likes you. And probably more than he should, considering your status as his best friends’ nanny and the difference in your ages. But he can’t help it. And he’s not sure how to stop it.
~~~
“Boys are both asleep which means we’re off duty,” Elvira laughs quietly, treading lightly down the open staircase of the deck to meet you, Oscar, and Pedro back on the patio.
“It also means that we’ll need some snacks and booze for the trip,” Oscar says, standing in front of the cabinets in the mini kitchen on the patio, glancing at the barren pantry.
“Want me to make a trip to the store?” Pedro offers.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Oscar shrugs. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem,” he grabs the keys to his rental car and makes for the door. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“I can go, too, Mr. Pascal,” you speak up quietly, much to Pedro’s surprise.
He turns around, seeing you standing behind him all sweet and shy.
“It’s Pedro,” he firmly corrects you, the syllables rolling off his tongue so handsomely. “And, s’alright. I got it,” he forces a smile and denies your offer, much to his own dismay.
Of course he wants you to come with him. But you seemed to have made it extremely clear that you do not want to be around him. So to hear you offer to come with is quite confusing for him.
“Really, I wanna help,” you insist, hoping he’ll let you tag along.
“Alright,” Pedro shrugs indifferently, turning on his heels and continuing out the door.
You bite your lip and frown, wondering why he’s so cold to you all of a sudden. Last time you checked, he was nothing but a chatterbox to you, which is why you felt you had to distance yourself. But nonetheless, you follow him out to the car and gently hop into the front passenger seat.
Not a word is exchanged between the two of you for at least the first five minutes of the drive; only the quiet background music - that Pedro flipped on to make it less awkward - is heard.
Your gaze is cast out the window, watching as the sun sets behind the horizon line, painting the sky a beautiful collage of orange, pink, and purple hues. You had to look out the window because when you realized the sunset was casting a stunning glow over Pedro’s tanned skin and reflecting in his velvet brown eyes, you knew you wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself from staring at him.
“So you don’t hate me,” Pedro finally speaks up, and it’s barely loud enough for you to hear. You turn to face him, and the temptation to ogle him is no less present.
“Sorry?” you respond, feeling bad that you zoned out and missed what he’d said.
“Nothin’,” he brushes it off.
“Are you sure?” you wonder worriedly.
“Yeah. Just… Why'd you offer to come with me?” Pedro asks, in hopes of hearing that you don’t hate his guts.
“Well there’s not much for me to do since the boys are asleep and I figured I’d let Oscar and Elvira have some time together,” you shrug.
“Oh,” Pedro’s heart sinks. So it’s not because you wanted to spend time with him.
“And, I… well, it’s kinda dumb,” you shake your head, feeling heat flood your cheeks.
“What?” Pedro responds, looking over at you once stopped at a red light. When you don’t answer, he chuckles, then repeats himself. “What?”
“I dunno!” you shrug and giggle with him bashfully, feeling better that the ice has been accidentally broken between the two of you. “You… seem cool and I guess… I guess I just wanted to get to know you a bit,” you roll your eyes at how stupid it sounds, turning your head to avoid his gaze.
“That’s not dumb,” Pedro assures you, and when you turn back to look at him, he’s looking at you with a charmed smile. “I’ve been wanting to get to know you, too.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he smiles, then steps on the gas when the light turns green again.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he pulls into the parking lot of the little store.
“Well, thanks for tagging along,” Pedro finally speaks up again, shooting you a handsome smile. “I’m glad for the company.”
“I’m glad you let me,” you smile back shyly, following him out of the car and to the store doors. “So what are we shopping for?”
“Snacks and wine,” Pedro answers, grabbing a shopping basket from the stack. “Wanna split up?”
“Sure, but you’ll have to be on wine selection duty. I can’t say I’m well versed in that area,” you confess.
“No?” Pedro smiles at your innocent admission.
“No,” you shake your head.
“Well, then you’re on snack duty,” Pedro decides, without questioning you further.
And so the two of you go off in different directions - Pedro to the wine cellar and you to the snack aisles - with the promise to meet back by the check-out area. You spend a few minutes deciding between various chips, crackers, and granola bars, thinking not only of the three other adults on the trip but also the two little boys.
You briefly see Pedro going to scan the next aisle over, probably in search of his own personal favorite snack, but you continue with your task. Eventually, you settle on two boxes of crackers and a pack of fruit gummies for the kids.
But before you can exit the aisle and go to meet Pedro, the sound of footsteps catches your attention. You try to ignore them, but they’re slow and calculated, and they seem to be getting closer to you.
“Hey, pretty thing,” you hear from behind you, and the nasally voice is definitely not Pedro’s.
You turn around in an instant, only to find a man standing about five feet away from you, which feels too close considering there’s a hundred extra feet of space and that he’s a stranger. And he’s not a good looking one, either; his greasy blond hair is slicked back, his clothes have various mysterious stains on them, and his grey eyes aren’t trustworthy whatsoever.
“Got a minute?” he asks, despite your lack of a response.
“No. Excuse me,” you finally speak up after ignoring his initial, gag-worthy greeting, and try to walk past him.
But he’s like a moving brick wall, stepping in front of you to block you in between his body and the shelf with barely three feet of space between the two of you.
“Oh, c’mon, Baby. Just gimme a second,” he smirks, quirking his head to the side. “Just wanna have a little fun.”
“No,” you shake your head, looking him dead in his evil eyes as your heart nearly beats out of your chest.
“So hard to get, hm? I bet you’re a real tease,” he takes a step closer, and you feel a burning sensation in your throat, not sure if it’s potential tears, vomit, or both.
“Pedro?” you call out, lucky enough to turn sideways and step backwards away from the predator, but you know your voice isn’t nearly loud enough to reach the man you need, in the next aisle over.
“C’mon, Baby,” he growls, eyes darkening. 
“I said no,” you refuse, stepping further away from him, but not turning your back to him. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
You continue backing up, keeping your eyes on the man who, thankfully is staying put, until you back up into someone else’s solid body.
“Got what you need, Sweetie?” comes another voice, familiar and comforting this time, as an arm slings around your shoulders.
Quickly, you turn your head to see Pedro standing beside you with a bottle of wine, a few blocks of cheese, and a pack of Oreos in his basket. Next, he’s wrapping his free arm around you, securing you to his side so that even if the creep tried to go after you, he wouldn’t be able to get to you.
“Pe—Pedro,” you exhale a shaky sigh of relief, wrapping your arm around his back and grabbing onto his other arm with a death grip.
“Let’s go home,” he says loud enough, picking up on the tension and kissing your temple to claim you as his to the other guy, even though it’s the farthest from the truth. But the creep doesn’t need to know that.
And despite the unsettling situation, Pedro’s little display of affection not only brings you comfort, but also an intense swarm of butterflies, and he holds you close to his side as the two of you walk away.
“Thank you,” you whisper shakily, but don’t realize how tight your grip on him is until he unwraps his own arm from your shoulder. “Sorry,” you let go, revealing small marks where your fingers had been.
“(Y/n), what was happening?” he asks as he leads the two of you to a self check-out.
“That guy…” you start, finally regaining a normal breath rate as you hand over the crackers for him to scan. “He… he just tried to get with me,” you shrug and shake your head, trying to downplay what just happened.
“What?” Pedro quietly gasps, dropping the items into the shopping bag and turning to face you head on.
“Yeah, but you came just in time,” you assure him.
“(Y/n), did he touch you?” Pedro asks, defense and anger filling his voice.
“No,” you shake your head confidently. “You showed up before he could get close enough. So, thank you,” you give him a small, still scared smile.
“Well, I heard you call my name,” he nods. “And when I saw how sketchy the fucker looked, I just thought to… protect you… however I could,” he cringes at the wording, not wanting to make it sound like he thought you were helpless and weak. “Sorry about the sudden affection,” he winces, referring to the sweet kiss he gave you to tell the guy off.
“It’s okay. I mean, it worked. He stopped and I felt better,” you tell him.
“That’s good,” Pedro nods again, continuing to pay for the items, then grabbing the bag. “God, I’m so sorry that happened to you. I shouldn’t have offered to split up. Should’a stayed with you.”
“Pedro, really, I’m fine. Just a little shook up,” you admit. “I feel safer with you.”
“I’m glad,” he smiles, reaching a hand around you to rub your shoulder, then ushers you to the doors.
“And I’m sorry for pinching you,” you chuckle quietly, softly grabbing his forearm to check, seeing that the marks are already fading.
“It’s really okay,” he shakes his head and silently laughs along with you, keeping you within an arm’s reach to him as the two of you make your way back out to the rental car.
Once the two of you are in, you both let out a sigh.
“Adventures at every corner with you,” he shakes his head and grins. “First the airplane mixup, then the room mixup, and now this.”
“I’m sorry,” you chuckle, although you know it’s not your fault the two of you always seem to be getting into unlikely situations.
“No reason to be sorry,” he refutes, starting the car. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”
“Hate you?” your stomach drops at his words, pausing your movement to buckle yourself and instead turning to face him. “Pedro, why would you think I hate you?”
“Well…” he scoffs silently, avoiding your gaze. “Starting last night, you’ve just seemed… off. You kinda blew me off this morning in the kitchen, you barely talked to me on the flight over, and you’ve been avoiding me at all costs almost every second of being here,” he frowns bashfully.
“Pedro,” you sigh, and the fear of hurting his feelings starts to outweigh the fear of him finding out about yours. “I don’t hate you.”
“Well, I know that now,” he chuckles.
“Before, I just… I dunno. I wasn’t avoiding you because I hate you,” you begin.
“Then why?” he asks, soft brown eyes clearly displaying confusion and the slightest bit of hurt.
“Pedro, I get insanely nervous around you,” you murmur, scoffing at yourself.
“Nervous? Around me?” he laughs again.
“Yeah, I know. It’s dumb,” you roll your eyes.
“No, it’s not,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it like that, Sweetie. It’s just… I don’t think I’m very scary,” he admits, missing your point.
After another sigh, you give in.
“Pedro, I’m not scared of you. I… oh god…” you groan, already feeling the overwhelming sense of embarrassment from what you’re about to admit.
“You what?” he prompts, clearly eager to hear what you have to say.
“Pedro, I like you!” you finally spit out.
And the silence between you two is almost unbearably deafening, until he speaks up.
“You do?” he asks with way too much excitement in his voice, so he clears his throat in embarrassment, watching as you shrug your shoulders.
“Yeah, I do,” you roll your eyes. “Sorry to make things… weird.”
“You haven’t made things weird,” he assures you, grabbing your hand that’s been frozen on your seat belt since the start of the conversation, and linking his fingers together with yours. “(Y/n), I think you’re beautiful and extremely sweet. Not to mention, you’re way too smart for your own good. Except that you didn’t pick up on the fact that I… like you, too.”
“You do?” you copy his excitement from just moments before.
“Yes,” he laughs in return, lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles.
“But, you’re so much older than me,” you state bluntly, not meaning it to come off the way it does.
“Thanks?” he scoffs playfully, letting go of your hand.
“No, no!” you laugh, leaning back into him and placing a hand on his forearm. “I just mean… like, you’re a grown man. I didn’t expect you to take an interest in someone like me.”
“And why not?” he wonders aloud, picking up your hand in his once more.
“I guess… well, you have your entire life figured out and put together. You’re successful, extremely handsome, and probably have countless women lining up for a chance with you.“
“Cariño, is that what you think of me?” he smirks, and you nod timidly in response, a shiver going down your back at the new nickname he’s already given you. “Well, you’re wrong,” he hums, tracing your fingers with his, loving the way your hand looks so dainty in his, then looking back up into your eyes.
“I’m sure I am,” you whisper and nod.
“I don’t have my entire life figured out yet, I’m the farthest thing from being put together, and fooling around with women hasn’t been a priority for me since I was probably your age,” he tells you.
“Really?” you wonder, finding it hard to believe that with all the fame and glory he’s gotten, he hasn’t taken advantage of his status as an international heartthrob.
“Yes, really. What, did you think I go around sleeping with a different woman every night?” he plays, but you know he’s just taunting you.
“Not that extreme,” you assure him. “But, I was sure you would have enjoyed the game a little.”
“I did. In the past. But all that means nothing compared to having a real, true connection with someone you love. Dedicating your life to that person. I’m sure you’ll find that out later in life, Sweetie,” he suggests, and not one word that leaves his mouth is condescending or rude, despite your own rude misconception about him. Pedro speaks with such a lovely tone and with only the passion that a true romantic would have.
“Sorry to be such an asshole to you,” you frown feebly, hoping you haven’t hurt his feelings.
“You’re not an asshole,” he assures you, kissing your palm.
“Still feel bad, though. I’m sorry for pushing you away,” you frown, lazily resting your head on his shoulder.
“Don’t be sorry. Feelings make us do funny things, Cariño,” he whispers, kissing your forehead. “Now looking back, I should have picked up on your nerves. But I guess I was too distracted by my own,” he admits bashfully.
“I’m always nervous around you,” you giggle against his shirt.
“Well, you don’t need to be,” he promises, and you press yourself up off his chest just enough to hold eye contact with him. “When did you start… liking me?” he blushes.
“Honestly?” you ask, and it feels like you’re a schoolgirl talking to her crush at recess.
“Yes, please,” he chuckles.
“When you walked me to my apartment that night,” you admit with a short nod. “Instant butterflies.”
“Oh yeah?” he smiles proudly, to which you nod in response.
“Yeah. No one’s ever done that for me before.”
“Then you’ve never been with a real man, Cariño,” he hums, voice gravelly with pride.
“I guess not,” you shrug, gazing deeper into his chocolate eyes. “What about you? When did you… y’know,” you trail off bashfully, still unable to formulate the words that confirm he does, indeed, like you, too.
“Well, you caught my eye the first time I saw you, that’s for sure. But I think I realized I started to have feelings for you that night at Oscar’s for dinner. You were so fun to talk to, which is why it was so surprising… and crushing, when you started ignoring me all of a sudden.”
“I was a nervous wreck that whole night at dinner,” you laugh.
“I could tell,” he teases lightly. “But it’s all water under the bridge now, Cariño. No more to worry about.”
“Well, except for the fact that you’re technically my bosses’ best friend,” you sigh, sitting up straight and parting from him fully.
“Yeah,” he hums. “Yeah, that’s a little bit of a problem.”
“You don’t think they’ll have an issue with it, will they?” you wonder, although you fear you already know the answer.
“I just know that… well, I off-handedly mentioned how cute you were with the boys at the beach this afternoon, and Oscar lectured me about how you’re ‘off limits’ since you’re their nanny,” Pedro rolls his eyes and huffs, using finger quotes at Oscar’s outrageous statement. “And I don’t want either of us to get in trouble with them, but I can’t get you out of my head, (Y/n).”
“I feel the same,” you murmur, nibbling on your bottom lip. “But now I’m scared they’re gonna… fire me or something… if they find out about whatever is going on between us.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he coos, leaning forward to holding your face in his hands, directing your gaze to meet his. “They never said anything about that. Elvira only said that they weren’t too thrilled about the idea of us together because if we were to get together, and then end things poorly… well, they didn’t want you to quit because of me being their friend.”
“I’d never quit,” you shake your head. “I love this family too much.”
“Well there you go,” he coos, running his thumb over your bottom lip.
“So what do we do?” you wonder, blinking away the potential tears that seem to be settling in your eyes.
“We do what we want, and maybe just keep it on the down-low for now,” Pedro shrugs, leaning in to kiss your cheek with the utmost gentleness.
“Okay,” you murmur and smile nervously.
“So… you wanna give this thing a go, you and I?” he asks ever so softly. “See where it takes us?”
“Yeah,” you nod and smile more confidently this time, letting your eyes trail over the entirety of his beautiful face up close. “Yeah, I do.”
“Me, too,” he smiles, then drops his eyes to your lips for a moment before whispering even softer: “Can I kiss you, Cariño?”
“Please,” you nod weakly, glad that you’re seated because of the dizzy effect Pedro’s voice gives you.
And before you know it, his lips are on yours for the very first time, sending you into a spiral of feelings you didn’t even know existed. Both of his hands float up to your face, holding it securely in his spacious palms. His lips feel heavenly against yours, and you don’t know how you ever lived without this feeling before.
“I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep away from you in front of them,” you gasp once the two of you break apart for air.
“It’ll work out, (Y/n),” he whispers against your lips, going back in for another round. “I promise.”
And for both of your sakes, you sure hope Pedro is right.
~~~
read the next part here!
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daisynik7 · 1 year
Text
Sweet Like Honey
Chapter 3: First Vacation
Pairing: Nanami x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
cw: smut, phone sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spanking, cum eating
Summary: You and Nanami go on your first trip together to a hot springs resort and things get ~steamy~
Four months into your relationship, you and Nanami plan your first trip together. The two of you are sitting on the couch in your living room, digesting the dinner you just ate. Apparently, there’s a nearby mountain town called Hakone, known for being a hot springs resort with views of Mt. Fuji. Nanami has been there before and recommends it. Having never been to a hot spring yourself, the idea of snuggling up next to your boyfriend in a steamy stone bath excites you. That is, until he breaks the news to you.
“Hot springs are separate for men and women, sweetie. We won’t be in the hot springs together.”
You look at him, mouth agape. “Huh, what’s the point then?!”
He chuckles, lifting the back of your hand up to his lips. “To relax. You really can’t go a few hours without being beside me?”
Snatching your hand away from him, you retort, “Oh please. Says the guy who made me late to work every morning this week because you kept wanting to cuddle.”
Smirking, he responds, “I can’t help it. It’s starting to get cold and you are just too cute. Also, if it’s any consolation, I’m planning to book a room with a personal hot tub on the balcony. So, we can still relax together at night.”
That does sound nice. And it’s not like you are seriously upset about the separate hot springs. It’s probably a better idea not to be near each other when naked in public.
Since the day you two confessed your love for one another, the sex has ramped up quite a bit. And by quite a bit, you mean A LOT. With your dear brother Ren officially living in the dorms at Jujutsu High, you and Nanami were together nearly every day, either at your place or his. And with your love for each other growing by the second, it’s no surprise that sex has become a regular part of your lives. Honestly, you can’t keep your hands off each other. Sometimes, the two of you don’t even have the patience to move it to the bedroom, so Kento made sure to hide lube in the drawers of each room in both of your homes. Even in the most unsuspecting of places, like the kitchen and laundry room, which has definitely come in handy several times.
When you first started dating, there was still that trepidation of figuring out what each other was comfortable with. Both of you were extremely cautious of not crossing any lines, always asking, “Is this okay?” or “Do you like this?”. After a certain point, you started to feel comfortable with each other. You feel safe when you’re together.
Now, the sex is more passionate than it’s ever been. Knowing he loves you just as much as you love him makes all the difference. This is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. There’s no holding back anymore.
“Hot tub on a balcony? Sounds very romantic.” You scooch over to sit on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. “Let’s do it.”
“Great. I’ll ask Gojo to help me book it. He’s the one who got us in last time.” He leans forward to kiss you on the lips. “I can’t wait. Our first vacation together.” He nuzzles his nose against yours.
“I’m getting excited just thinking about it.” You kiss him as he cradles you in his arms. 
“What are you thinking about? Are you being naughty again?”
“Of course not! How dare you accuse me of being naughty! I’m innocent. You know I’m a good girl,” you say with a coy smile, walking your fingers up his chest to loosen his tie.
“You are a good girl. You’re my good girl.” His lips brush lightly on the skin of your neck.
In just a few minutes, clothes are shed and the drawer next to the couch is open.
~~~
The week of their vacation, Nanami is sent on a mission to Osaka with Gojo. Not only does he have to spend 4 days in a hotel room with his insufferable friend, but this will be the longest he’s been apart from his girlfriend since they started dating.
On the last night, Nanami groans at his phone, staring at a picture of the Yakisoba she made for dinner tonight as he eats a bowl of spicy instant ramen from a convenience store.
“Remind me why we don’t have any stipend for food?” Nanami asks Gojo, who is happily slurping away at his noodles as he sits on the bed.
“Geez, Nanamin. Sorry our agency can’t afford 5-star meals every night. Since when have you been such a snob?!”
“I’d rather be at home, eating my girlfriend’s Yakisoba than eating instant ramen with you.”
“I’m so glad you said Yakisoba and not something else,” Gojo jokes, with an eyebrow raised.
Nanami blushes at the joke and focuses on eating his ramen in silence.
After he’s done with his dinner, Gojo gets up to stretch. “I’m going to take a walk somewhere. I’ll be back in 30 minutes.”
“Where are you going?”
“I told you; I’m just going for a walk. I’m giving you some alone time so you can talk to your girlfriend. Take the hint, buddy.”
Surprised, Nanami mutters, “You don’t have to leave. It’s fine.”
“Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just tell her I say ‘hi’. And remember, 30 minutes. I better not walk in here with your pants down,” he teases with a sly grin as he opens to the door to leave.
“Oh, you are awful,” Nanami mutters before the door shuts closed.
Immediately, he calls his girlfriend. After two rings, she picks up. “Hi baby!”
He loves hearing her voice. It instantly puts him in a good mood. “Hi, princess. How are you?”
“Princess? Are you alone right now?”
“Heh, yeah. Gojo went out for a walk.”
They chat for several minutes about each other’s week. Nanami talks about the multiple curses they’ve exorcised and how Gojo has them eating convenience store food every night. She complains about work and her friend’s boyfriend drama, which he shamelessly indulges in.
“I miss you so much,” Nanami says. He’s sitting up on his bed now, loosening the tie around his neck.
“I miss you too, Kento.”
“I can’t wait for our vacation tomorrow.”
“Me too.”
There’s a brief silence over the phone, a familiar tension growing between the static noise. She breaks the silence first. “What do you want to do during our vacation?”
“Well, we’re going to do the hot springs, maybe a massage –”
“No, Kento. I mean, what do you want to do to me during our vacation?” He hears shifting on her end. He wonders what she’s wearing right now.
He exhales into the phone as he reaches for his belt, unbuckling it quietly. “What do you want, princess? I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
“Whatever I want?”
“Yes, anything.”
“Can you fuck me like the little slut that I am?”
“Fuck, baby. Fuck,” he mutters, pushing past the waistband of his pants and briefs to release his erect cock. He starts jerking off hastily, picturing her sprawled out on the bed for him, legs spread wide and ready to be railed. “You’re such a slut for me, huh? Always so needy for this cock. Where are you right now?” He rasps filthy words into the phone, all discretion being tossed out the window.
“I’m on the couch in the living room. I’m touching myself.”
“Fuck, princess, already? Couldn’t even make it to the bedroom? You really are a slut. Can’t wait to eat that pussy out tomorrow. Can’t wait to devour you. You always taste divine on my tongue.”
“God, Kento. Wish you were here. Wish you could fuck me on the couch like you did last week.”
“Have you been touching yourself while I’ve been away? Have you been naughty?” He bites his lip thinking about her touching herself, rubbing her clit with those cute little fingers, then sliding them in and out of her wet pussy.
“Yes, I’ve been very naughty,” she responds, voice trembling with arousal. “How will you punish me?”
“Going to give you a spanking,” he growls, fisting his cock faster. Precum is leaking out from the tip. “Going to fuck you until you can’t come anymore. Going to milk you dry.”
“Is that a promise?” she asks, coyly.
“Fuck, you’re such a naughty girl. Always trying to provoke me. Tell me exactly how you’re touching yourself right now.”
“I’m rubbing my clit. Spreading my cum all over it so it’s nice and wet. God, I miss you so much.”
“I know, honey. I miss you, too. Can you make yourself come? For me? Fuck yourself with your fingers, pretend it’s me doing it. I want to hear it.”
He listens to her faint whimpers as she masturbates on the phone with him, timing his strokes to match with her moans. “There you go, baby. Just like that. You’re doing so good for me,” he praises. He’s close and by the sounds of it, so is she.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he says in a low voice.
“Your big dick filling me up.”
“What position are you imagining?”
“Cowgirl. I’m bouncing on your cock until you come inside me. Like how we did it on the couch. Your cum was dripping down my thighs, remember?” Her voice is hoarse with lust.
“How could I forget?” he smiles to himself, vividly recalling the erotic memory. “And what did I do after?”
She lets out a loud moan before answering, “You put it back in me and fucked me again.”
“That’s right, baby. I know how much you like that.” He strokes his dick in a frenzy, ears hot and eyes shut tight as he reaches his climax. 
“I’m going to come, Kento. Come with me.”
At her command, his abs clench as he releases all over himself, painting the bottom of his button up shirt. He really should have taken this off beforehand, but as usual, they get too caught up in the moment to think logically.
“Did you come, sweetie?” Her voice is quiet over the phone, her breathing shallow just like it gets whenever she orgasms. 
“Yes, I did. All over my shirt.”
“Oh no! Baby!”
He laughs. “It’s okay. I have another one. Did you come?”
“Yes, I did,” she answers. He smirks, picturing her laid out on the couch, panties pulled down her legs, with a blissful look in her eyes. That’s my girl, he thinks.
“You should clean yourself up before Gojo gets back,” she suggests.
Gojo. Shit.
Nanami turns his wrist to read his watch; it’s been at least 45 minutes since his friend left for his 30-minute walk. In a panic, he checks his messages and finds three from Gojo that he somehow missed:
NANAMINNNNN coming back from my walk now
never mind, extending my walk another 30
you dirty bastard
~~~
The next day, you and Nanami reunite for your trip. It’s a two-hour train ride to Hakone. You rest your head on Nanami’s shoulder, hands interlaced with each other, basking in each other’s existence. A few days away makes you realize how happy you are being with him. As if you had any doubts.
When the train approaches the final station, Nanami lightly taps on your thigh to get your attention. He points out the window. “Look, sweetie.”
It’s a gorgeous view of Mt. Fuji in the distance. The hotel you’re staying at is only a 10-minute walk from the station, meaning this is the scenery you’ll have all weekend. You can’t imagine anything more romantic and peaceful than this.
The hotel is just as quaint as you pictured it. You and Nanami check into the room and settle in before getting ready for the hot springs. Two hours away from each other is a cinch, especially in paradise. You both enjoy your separate onsen experiences, feeling rejuvenated and relaxed for the night to come.
After a delightful dinner at the hotel restaurant, it’s time to retreat into your room. On the elevator ride up, Nanami presses you up against the wall and kisses you. You fumble with each other on the way to the room, exchanging delicate kisses until you’re inside. He removes his coat, then yours, before wrapping his arms around you in a bear hug.
“I’ve been waiting all week for this,” he says softly.
You both change into proper hot tub attire: Nanami in swim trunks, you in a two-piece bathing suit. He leads you to the balcony outside and into the spa. The sexual tension between you two is palpable. As you sit beside each other in the water, you feel your muscles relax under the heat. You let your head fall back against the edge of the tub as you sigh, feeling at ease. You stay like this for a few minutes. Even with your eyes closed, you can still feel Nanami’s gaze on you.
Cracking one eye open, you smirk. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”
You feel his hand on your thigh. “I can’t help it when you look like this,” he says.
With both eyes open now, you turn to him and ask, “And what do I look like?”
“You look happy. Tranquil.” He pauses before leaning in closer to add, “You’re beautiful.”
Butterflies flutter in your stomach. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Your lips brush together seamlessly, his breath warm on your mouth. With your hands on his chest, you feel the steady thump of his heartbeat pick up in speed as you continue to kiss passionately. Your skin prickles with goosebumps despite the surrounding heat. Something about the way Nanami kisses you always makes you tingly.
Straddling his lap, you start kissing his neck softly as you roll your hips against him, using his shoulders to hold on to. He lets out a guttural moan, causing you to ride him slower, making sure you touch every inch of him. You feel him getting hard beneath you. You want him. You need him.  
Water splashes over the edge of the tub, the waves rippling with each movement. The steam from the hot water is dewy on your skin. He runs his fingers through your damp hair and gently pulls you off his neck so he can kiss you again on the lips. With a firm grip, he tugs your head back just enough to expose your neck. He sucks on your skin, intent on leaving marks. You’re his. The other hand cups your ass, moving with the rhythm in which you ride him.
“You’re so good to me, Kento. Always so good to me,” you whine.
He whispers in your ear, “I want you. I want to feel you around my hard cock.” His grips your ass tighter, his self-control wavering. “Let’s go.”
You hop off him and get out of the hot tub first. The contrast of the cold, night air on your hot skin makes you shiver. When you watch him emerge out of the water with a very distinct bulge in his swimming trunks, you shiver even more.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” he teases, as he grabs your wrist and leads you back inside the room. His grip is strong, and his pace is quick. Seeing him unravel like this is arousing. Knowing how much he desires you in this moment makes your pussy quiver for him.
He takes you into the bathroom, where he immediately starts the shower, knob turned all the way to hot. He releases his hold on you to remove his swimming trunks. His hard dick flops against his abdomen as soon as he strips. The sight resonates straight to your pussy. In complete surrender, you bend over the sink counter and beg, “Kento, please. I can’t wait anymore. I need you right now.”
He leans over you, his lips tickling your ear as he chuckles, “Be a good girl and get in the shower. Just be patient, princess.” You feel his hard dick pressed against you as his lips graze the back of your neck. His hands roam to your back, removing your top, then down towards your ass, where he slides your bikini bottom off at an agonizing speed.
Pouting, you do as he says, his hand slapping your ass as you step over the bathtub. He follows you in, grabbing at your waist to pull you close. With a bar of soap, you stand underneath the hot shower, scrubbing the chlorine off your skin as Nanami watches you from behind. Soap suds travel from your neck down to your breasts. From the corner of your eye, you see him lick his lips. When you’re ready to rinse off, you turn your body around to face him, your hands eventually reaching between your legs. He smirks as you run your fingers between the folds, brushing lightly over your clit.
“I can’t wait to eat that pussy out,” he says in a low voice. The look in his eyes is carnal.
God, you want him.
Letting the water rinse your body, you offer him the bar of soap. He shakes his head and says, “You do it.”
This is the other side of him. Nanami is usually sweet and gentle with you. Never does he demand you to do anything or boss you around. But when he’s like this, you can’t help but heed his every command. Only you get to see him like this.
You scrub the soap on his skin, sliding your hands all over his body. You pull him closer to you, letting the water wash away the bubbles. When you reach down to his still erect cock, he snatches your hand away and growls, “Not yet. I want to fuck you on the bed.”
Once rinsed off, he gives you a small kiss on the forehead before stepping out, leaving you alone in the shower to wash your hair. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he gives you one last smirk before exiting the bathroom. What is he up to?
A small groan escapes from your mouth. Your patience is wearing thin as your pussy throbs for your man. This is the longest foreplay you two have managed to last through. How much longer is he going to keep you waiting? How has he managed to stay this hard for this long without giving in? The anticipation puts you on edge.
When you’re done, you put on a robe and quickly blow dry your hair just enough so it’s not sopping wet. As you walk back into the bedroom, you see Nanami sitting up on the bed, naked on top of the covers, watching you. He points to a small, black gift bag propped up on top of the blankets. “Open it.”
Inside is a black slip dress and a matching lace thong. You swallow hard as you glide the thin material between your fingers, nervous and aroused at what’s about to come.
“Put it on. Model it for me.” He leans back on the headboard, hands behind his head, cock stiff against his stomach. There’s a smug expression on his face; you can tell he’s enjoying this.
You shrug the robe off your body and wear the dress first. It’s a tight fit, especially around your chest. Your nipples poke out through the fabric. Nanami bites his lower lip and leans forward to get a better look. “Now put the thong on. Slowly.”
At his direction, you slip on the lingerie slowly. When it’s past your knees, he says, “Turn around and let me see.” With your back towards him, you stick your ass out and lift the hem of the dress to slide the thong between your cheeks.
You hear him moan quietly before he says, “Perfect. You’re perfect. Come here, sweetie.”
~~~
She crawls onto bed next to him, where they begin kissing. The kisses are sloppy and wet; he’s been salivating for her. Her hand reaches down to stroke his erection. He cups her ass, his fingers feeling for the lacey fabric buried between her round flesh.  
“Get on your back,” he tells her. He hovers over her, marveling at how insanely gorgeous she is. The satin dress accentuates every bodacious curve of her body. He makes a mental note to buy more of these for her in the future. 
He slides his hand under the dress to rub his fingers on the wet spot of her lacey lingerie. “So wet for me already,” he purrs, sliding his fingers past the fabric. “Always so wet for me, huh princess?”
“Please, Kento,” she pleads. He loves it when she begs. Absolutely loves it. It awakens something in him. The usually calm Kento Nanami becomes unhinged whenever he touches her. But when she begs for it, he wants nothing more than to make her feel amazing, to be the reason she squirms in pleasure beneath him.
He slides his middle finger along her folds, gathering as much slick as he can before he starts caressing her puffy clit. She whines under his touch, the sensation too much. She’s been waiting for this all night. Been begging for it. This is her reward for her patience.
She grabs the nearest pillow to cover her mouth, but as soon as she does, Nanami pulls it off and tosses it behind him.
“No,” he demands. “I want everyone to hear how good you’re getting it right now.”
He slides down the bed and spreads her thighs wide. With his head between her legs, he leans forward and teases her clit with a flick of his tongue, his fingers holding her panties to the side. She reaches down to grab hold of his hair as he presses soft kisses onto her clit. Suddenly, he flattens his tongue against her bud and starts moving it side to side, making sure to surround every centimeter of that pretty clit with his mouth. Lewd sounds fill the room, from her loud, uncensored moaning to the wet noises he makes as he eats her out. He adjusts his position to stroke his hard dick as he continues to devour her.
She feels like honey on his tongue, luscious and sweet. He cherishes every time he gets to do this to her. Usually, she is too shy to let him eat her out. She deprives him of this treat. He’s starved for it. With her like this, spread out like a fucking feast in front of him, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take full advantage of this moment.
He latches his lips around her clit and sucks on it tenderly as he lets go of his cock to slide his middle and ring finger into her pussy. As he releases her from his mouth, he watches as her chest falls and rises with each shallow breath as he fingers her. Then, he starts rubbing circles around her clit with his thumb. She cries out his name. “Kento!”
“Fuck. You have no idea how good you look right now, sucking in my fingers like this.” He bucks his hips against the bed, trying to feel any type of friction against his hard cock as he watches his fingers pump into her.
All he hears from her is a litany of fucks and his name. The sounds of her moans eventually turn into whimpers. He stops massaging her clit with his thumb and eats her out again, this time sloppier and more erratic as he continues to work his fingers in her. The sheets are damp with his saliva and her cum. He’s not sure how many times she orgasms but based on the evidence before him, he guesses it’s at least twice. She’s too busy taking it like a slut to even verbalize when she’s coming.
When he feels close to his limit, he places one more soft kiss on her clit before he releases her lacey thong; he’s been holding them to the side this whole time. His fingers slip out of her, shiny with her cum. The temptation to suck her sweet nectar from his fingers is too good to resist. As he kneels next to her, he leans down to put his face close to hers. Her eyes widen with anticipation, waiting for his next move. With a dark look in his eyes, he licks his glossy fingers, dragging his tongue up and down. Savoring it like it’s the most decadent treat. She whines as she stares at him, grinding her hips up, desperate to be fucked. He never gets tired of seeing her like this. 
Fully aware of how her slick glistens on his lips and chin, he murmurs, “Taste yourself. I want you know how good you taste.”
There’s a dazed expression in her eyes as she obeys, sitting up to kiss him sloppily, tongue lapping into his open mouth then down to his chin. It drives him crazy. Before he comes right then and there, he shoves his hand between her legs and tugs her panties off her body, taking a few seconds to admire how soaked they are. All for him. All because of him.
Under the pillow is the bottle of lube he hid right after he got out of the shower. He pops off the cap and pours a liberal amount into his palms, rubbing it over his shaft. He strokes his cock vigorously as he asks, “Are you ready, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Kento. Please. Please. I need you inside me.” Her eyes linger on his hard cock as he jerks himself off. He smirks at how eager she looks.
“I know, baby. I know.” He kisses her gently before scooting down to position himself in front of her spread legs. Aligning the tip of his dick with her slit, he enters her slowly, careful not to be too forceful. She’s always so tight, even when she’s dripping wet for him.
“Such a good girl,” he whispers, leaning over her to kiss her forehead.
Halfway in, her body adjusts to his size, allowing him to thrust into her in fluid motions. She wraps her legs around him, babbling. “Kento, fuck. Fuck.”
“So wet for me. You feel perfect around my cock.” Once he’s fully inside her, he kisses her with open lips, tongue licking up her saliva as she moans into his mouth. He pins her wrists above her head, grinding his hips against her slowly.
They make love like this for a few minutes, Nanami relishing the way her body melts around him. He knows what she wants, but he takes his time teasing her like this until she groans out, “Fuck me harder. Please.”
As if on cue, he pulls out of her and taps his fingers at her hips. At his command, she flips over onto her stomach and gets on her hands and knees, pushing her ass out. The hem of her satin dress rides up over the curve of her waist. The sight in front of him is immaculate. He wants this ingrained in his memory forever.
“Think you can take it, sweetheart? I’m not going to go easy on you.”
“Yes, baby. Fuck me hard. Please. I can take it.”
“Good girl,” he coos, placing a soft kiss on her back. Whatever she wants, he’ll give it to her, especially when she begs like this. He puts both of his hands on each of her ass cheeks and spreads them out, watching his hard, glistening cock slowly slide into her pussy.
“God, I wish you could see what I see right now. It’s exquisite. You look fucking incredible like this. My sweet girl.” Once he’s all the way in, he grabs hold of her hips and fucks her. Hard. Exactly how she likes it.
“Fuck, daddy, feels so fucking good!” she cries out. Her knuckles turn white with the tight grip she has on the sheets. He spanks her as he fucks her, causing her to groan into the pillow with her back arched. The sound of his pelvis slapping against her ass with each rapid thrust is filthy.
“I needed this, baby. It’s been such a long week,” he grunts. “God, you take it so well. Such a slut for me, huh? Say it.”
“I’m a slut for you, Kento. Feels amazing when you fuck me like this.”
Grip still firm on her hips, he continues to drive his cock into her, amazed at the way she swallows him up. She turns her head to the side, that dazed look on her face. Her lips are parted as she continues to moan incoherently, drool leaking down the side of her wet mouth. When she makes eye contact with him, her lips curl into a small smile. “Right there, Kento. Make me come.”
Grunting, he hits her sweet spot until she comes all over his cock. He feels her pussy tighten around him. His dick shines with more of her cum after each thrust. It’s obscene; he can’t hold it in anymore.
“Ride me,” he demands.
He pulls out and gets on his back, watching her climb on top of him. She guides his dick inside her, exhaling deeply as she sinks lower onto his shaft. It goes in easily, her pussy sleek from her multiple orgasms, his own precum, and the lube from earlier. When he bottoms out, she leans over him, kissing him passionately as she thrusts her ass back and forth onto his cock.
“Just like that. Fuck,” he moans. This is his absolute favorite position. He loves it when she rides him like this. Always so eager and greedy for his cum whenever she’s on top. It makes him feel like a fucking man. He cranes his neck out to the side and pulls the hem of her dress up to watch her ass bounce on him.
“Fuck, I love this. You know how much I love this, you fucking nasty slut.”
“I’m such a nasty slut for you, daddy. Only for you. Fuck,” she moans into his ear, riding him faster.
He’s close. How he’s managed to last this long without coming, he’ll never know. Maybe his stamina has improved after all the sex they’ve been having recently. Or maybe it was the thought of coming in her like this that kept him under control. Whatever it is, he decides he’s been patient long enough.
“Let daddy take over,” he whispers to her.
Her body relaxes against him. Now, he’s in control. He plants his feet onto the bed and thrusts into her at a rapid pace, holding onto her ass to move it in perfect rhythm with his hips.
“Come inside me, Kento. Fill me up,” she mewls into his ear.
At her words, he releases inside her as he cries out, “Fuck, baby. I’m coming.” He shuts his eyes tight as he rides out the rest of his orgasm. When he finishes, he pulls out and she collapses beside him. The dress is defiled with the aftermath of their lovemaking, just as he fantasized about.
~~~
You put your arm over his chest and lay your head against his shoulder. “Wow,” is all you can say, voice a little shaky. Nanami just rocked your fucking world, and you can’t find better words to describe it.
He chuckles, still with his eyes closed, and sighs, “Yeah. Wow.” He takes your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist. “I’m sorry for calling you a slut.”
You giggle. He always does this. “Baby, you don’t have to keep apologizing for that! You know I like it.”
“I usually don’t use degrading language like that. I just want to make sure it’s still okay with you.”
You can’t help but smile. He’s too cute for his own good.
“By the way, how long have you been planning this?” you ask.
He finally opens his eyes and turns to face you. “All week. Saw the dress on display at a mall in Osaka. I knew it would look magnificent on you. It’s even better than what I imagined.”
“You sneaky devil!”
“I’m only this way because of you. You really unleash the devil in me.” He grins as he rubs his nose against yours.
“I guess I’m the lucky angel then, huh?”
“You are,” he says, peppering kisses on your face. “My sweet angel. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
After a few more minutes of post-coital cuddling, the two of you wash up again and get ready for a well-deserved sleep. As you snuggle each other in pure bliss, you can’t help but look forward to more vacations with the man you love.
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television-overload · 6 months
Text
beautiful (X-Files fanfic)
Rating: G
Word Count: 4,985
Summary: Weakened by her latest round of chemotherapy, Scully doesn't feel much like herself. Mulder helps her find the strength to keep fighting.
Read on AO3
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“I wish you weren’t seeing me like this, Mulder,” she says out of the blue, drawing his attention away from the magazine he was idly flipping through at her bedside. Immediately, he sets it aside, dropping his feet to the ground from where they were perched up on the hospital bed.
“What do you mean?” he asks, grabbing her closest hand and running his thumb over her knuckles.
Scully sighs. “Don’t make me say it,” she responds. The answer looms over them both, and she’s right. He doesn’t like hearing it spoken aloud.
Dana Scully is wasting away, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
This latest round of chemotherapy has hit her harder than the first, and he’s starting to see the physical changes. She’s thinner, paler. There are dark circles under her eyes. The doctors have noticed it too, recommending that she stay in the hospital for a few days or even a week rather than recover at home.
Of course, she had refused on principle until Mulder told her he was being forced to take a few days’ leave anyway to use up some vacation time, which wasn’t exactly true, and she probably knew it.
But either way, she had let him accompany her to her appointment, which was more than he could say for her previous round of treatment.
“I look like the night of the living dead,” Scully mumbles, fiddling with the scratchy blankets on her lap.
Mulder tries not to show a physical reaction to her choice of wording. “Don’t say that,” he pleads, shaking his head. “Please don’t say that.”
Scully smiles wryly. He’s as predictable as ever.
“I just mean, I don’t look like myself. I don’t feel like myself.” She says this with such an unaffected voice, that anyone less familiar with her tells would think this was just some passing annoyance, but Mulder knows. He can see the way this has grated at her, and he just wishes he could take this all pain away from her. “I can’t even do my makeup,” she adds, throwing a breathy laugh in for good measure at the end of her sentence, as if to say, ‘but why should I care about that?’
Mulder tugs on her hand, and she follows his unspoken cue and meets his gaze. “I like you just fine without makeup,” he says, his eyes communicating the sincerity of his words. “Besides, who is there to impress anyway?” he asks, gesturing at the empty room over his shoulder to emphasize his point.
Scully gives a tired smile. “You’re a guy, Mulder, you wouldn’t understand.” Squeezing his hand once, she adds, “But thank you,” and he gives her a smile back. He wishes he could do something to help her.
She hasn’t had the strength for much, ever since they began the treatment two days ago. She’s having a better reaction to it than she could be, but he knows the fatigue is frustrating her. She’s told him a thousand times that he doesn’t have to stay here with her, but he does anyway, even when she’s sleeping for hours on end. When she’s awake, he reads to her, or they watch something on TV, whatever she’s feeling up to. If it weren’t for the harrowing circumstances, he might even be really enjoying this time spent together outside work.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Scully speaks, drawing his attention back to her. “But you’re not looking so great yourself.” Her teasing tone is softened by her genuine concern for him, but he can’t help but play along.
His eyes narrow at her in mock offense. “Just what every man likes to hear,” he says sarcastically. “Scully, you wound me.”
This earns a patented Scully Eye Roll.
“Go home and take a shower at least,” she amends, looking at him fondly. “You could use one.”
He simply stares at her, challenging her to more of this banter.
“Are you gonna just keep insulting me until I finally leave?” he asks.
“If that’s what it takes,” she answers. “I could touch on your poor posture next, if you want.”
Mulder laughs, waving a hand dismissively as he stands. “Alright, alright, I’m going.” He looks back at her, pauses, and pointedly straightens his posture before grabbing his bag and taking a step toward the door. “You’ll be okay while I’m gone?” he asks, unable to help himself.
Her gaze softens, her playfulness turning back to seriousness. “Yes, Mulder, I’ll be fine. I probably won’t stay awake for much longer anyway.”
He nods, shifting to take another step, but on looking at her again, changes his mind. He turns back, crossing the floor to her bed and leaning down to press a quick kiss to her cheek. The hand that isn’t busy holding his briefcase gives her left shoulder a squeeze before he pulls away.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promises, tucking her blankets back up to her chin.
She smiles, her eyelids already growing heavy. “I know you will.”
-.-.-
True to his word, Mulder makes a stop at his apartment to shower and change, trading out the books they’d already finished with new ones that she will probably roll her eyes at. He has to admit, he feels like a new person as he steps out of the shower. He needed that more than he thought he did. There was something to what Scully had said earlier, about feeling like yourself. It gave him an idea.
As much as he wants to get back to her, Mulder knows she’ll be out like a light for at least a few hours. He decides to make another stop before heading back to the hospital.
It’s still fairly early in the day when he knocks on the door and waits for a minute. He hears the shuffling sound of someone approaching on the other side before the door creaks open.
“Fox?”
“Hi Mrs. Scully,” he says, giving her an awkward half smile, his hands jammed deep into his front pockets.
“What are you doing here? Is it Dana?” The woman is understandably worried; it’s not like Mulder to show up out of the blue like this unless there’s some kind of terrible news to convey.
He is quick to reassure her. “No, no, nothing like that. I just had something I—I wanted to ask you, if it’s no trouble.”
Maggie’s brows pinch together in that distinctly Scully way as she pulls him into her home, shutting the door behind him.
“What is it?”
Sheepishly, Mulder rubs a hand over the back of his neck, feeling less and less certain of what he came here to ask.
“Well, it’s just—Dana mentioned something earlier about wishing she had her makeup on, and I wondered… You know, her strength isn’t what it usually is, so I thought maybe I could—”
Maggie’s hands wrap around his forearm, halting his rambling speech. He looks up to see tears glistening in her eyes, and she nods in understanding.
“That’s very sweet, Fox.”
He nods, hoping his cheeks aren’t turning pink. He doesn’t do well with motherly praise.
“So, are you wanting me to show you how?”
He lets out a breath, relieved that he doesn’t have to find the words himself. “That would be great, actually.”
Mrs. Scully smiles, jerking her head toward the stairs so that he would follow her. “Come with me, I’ve got some stuff we can use.”
He dutifully follows after her as she leads him up the stairs. This is the furthest he’s been inside Maggie Scully’s house. He wonders how much of her belongings are mementos from Scully’s childhood, whether a certain painting hanging on the wall appears in her family Christmas photos or if it was bought recently.
In his perusal of the house itself, he nearly collides with someone he knows by name only. “Mom, who was that at the door?” the man is asking, and the moment their eyes meet, the air in the room thickens. “What’s he doing here?” he demands, looking to Maggie for answers.
Maggie is quick to come to Mulder’s aid. “It’s none of your business, young man,” she says, shooing him toward the stairs they had just come up. Despite his protestations, she continues, “Why don’t you go to the drugstore and pick up some eyelash straightening cream for Dana, we can bring it to her when we go visit later this afternoon.”
“But—”
She swats him on the arm. “No buts. Dana would really appreciate it if we brought it.”
He grumbles all the way down the stairs, but does as she told him. As soon as he’s grabbed his jacket from the coat closet, he’s out the door and starting up the car.
“What was that for?” Mulder asks, breaking the silence that had settled after the front door shut.
Maggie gives a pleased little smile. “There’s no such thing as eyelash straightening cream. Bill will be there for thirty minutes at least. As I’m sure you can imagine, knowing my daughter as you do, he doesn’t like asking for assistance if he can help it.”
Mulder lets out a surprised laugh. This woman runs a tight ship, and he has to respect her for it.
“Alright, now sit right here, Fox,” Mrs. Scully orders, pulling out a small stool from the vanity in her bathroom. She quickly leaves and returns with another chair from the bedroom, placing it across from him. She hums quietly as she rummages through her drawers, extracting several mystifying objects and setting them on the counter. “Now, let’s start with the foundation. I’ll show you how, and then you can do the other side of my face, sound good?”
Mulder nods, sitting up straighter to watch as she blends the creamy substance onto her skin. She’s narrating as she goes, and Mulder commits her words to memory, hoping his ability to replicate them will be as good as his ability to remember her instructions.
“Here, now you try,” Mrs. Scully says next, handing the brush to Mulder. He pushes aside any lingering feelings of awkwardness or embarrassment and sets in on applying the makeup. Maggie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches him, tapping ever so gently on her face as if he might break her. She wonders if he’s done this before. “You’re a natural,” she praises, “Are you sure this is your first time?”
He lets out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. “I’m no expert,” he answers. He’s silent for a moment, not breaking concentration, and then adds in a quiet voice, “My sister had this play makeup set, real cheap quality stuff. She’d sometimes force me to be her test subject.” His eyes grow distant as he remembers.
It wasn’t all that long before her abduction, he thinks, the last time they did this. It always went the same way. He’d sit patiently—or as patiently as an eleven- or twelve-year-old boy could—while she clumsily dabbed colorful eyeshadow onto his eyelids. He’d learned early on that it was better to just go along with it, having suffered the wrath of Samantha Mulder once before for refusing to be her dress-up doll. The makeup rarely stayed on for more than a minute after she declared him done, scrubbed off like some kind of deadly germ in the sink, but it was enough to appease her.
When she was finished, she’d beg him to help her with her makeup, putting that pouty lip out that she knew he couldn’t say no to.
“Stop blinking, Sam,” he’d say, focusing intently on brushing on the mascara she’d stolen from her mom’s makeup bag. “You’re gonna mess it up.”
He remembers these times fondly, of rare moments where he managed to be a good big brother, instead of pretending to be annoyed by her like he often did. He’d give anything to be teased by his peers for spending time with his kid sister, if it meant having her back.
With the utmost care, Mrs. Scully walks him through the remaining steps, patting him gently on the cheek once he’s put on the finishing touches.
“You’re a good man, Fox,” she says, her fondness for him evident in her smile. “Dana is lucky to have you.”
Once again, Mulder shrugs, uncomfortable with the compliments, no matter how sincere they are. “I’m the lucky one, Mrs. Scully.” He thinks he’s never meant something more in his life. “But I appreciate you saying so. Thanks again for showing me everything.”
She pulls him into a hug. “Of course, you call me if you ever need anything. We’ll be by sometime this afternoon.”
He nods, and is thankfully out the door with time to spare before Bill can get home.
After a brief visit to Scully’s apartment to grab some of her things, he drives back to the hospital. When he arrives, Scully is awake in her bed, her upper body elevated so she can look out the window. She greets him with a warm smile, and he can’t help but grin back.
“Sorry I took so long,” he says in apology, “Had to make a quick pit stop.”
This catches Scully’s attention, and she watches as he produces a bag from behind his back, setting it on the tray table in front of her and starting to take items out. She recognizes it immediately, and looks up at him in wonder.
“Mulder,” she says, her tone jokingly admonishing. “You didn’t have to bring me this.” She’s smiling still as she starts to sit up, reaching out to grab a tube of lipstick, but he stops her.
“No, no,” he says, gently lowering her hand back down to the table and urging her to sit back and relax. “You take it easy, I’ll take care of this.”
She gives him a look with a furrowed brow, but eases back, watching him suspiciously as he selects a bottle of liquid foundation and a brush.
He sits sideways on her hospital bed so that he is facing her. With the limited space, his thigh brushes up against her blanket-covered one, but it barely even registers. This kind of closeness is nothing particularly unusual for them. If nothing else, it is an added comfort to them both.
“You ready?” he asks, makeup brush poised to start.
Scully searches his eyes for a moment and, deciding she trusts him, gives a nod. “Okay.”
With a pleased little smile, Mulder begins applying a light layer of foundation, leaning in closer to reach as he gently blends it into her skin.
Scully can only watch him, his brows drawn together in focus as he works to meticulously apply the makeup. Her eyes wander over his face, over the sharp lines of his nose and the roundness of his lips. Occasionally his tongue peeks out in concentration, and she can’t help but fall a little more in love with him.
She didn’t ask him to do this. If he thought her needless grousing earlier was a request, she felt terrible. He isn’t her servant. He doesn’t exist to make sure she has all the niceties of her normal life in this cold, sterile place. The last thing she wants is to be a burden, especially to him. He’s had enough to deal with in his life without having to look after his terminally ill coworker.
But that isn’t all they are, is it? They’re friends—the closest of friends. This isn’t the first time he’s gone out of his way to do something nice for her, and she suspects it won’t be the last, no matter how little time she has left. For some reason, he’s taken it upon himself to be with her throughout this whole ordeal, even when it means holding back her hair as she heaves into a trash can or when she can’t adjust the covers over her cold feet.
The words jump into her mind unbidden: “In sickness and in health.”
It’s funny, in a distinctly unfunny way. She supposes she should be thankful that someone cares enough for her in that way, even if they are nothing more than friends and coworkers. In some ways, their partnership is more of a marriage than many people will experience in their lifetimes, and for that she is exceedingly glad. She couldn’t have asked for a better person to have in her life than Mulder.
He’s moved on now to powdering her skin with translucent powder, beginning with her forehead. As he brings the soft brush down between her eyebrows, she scrunches her nose up, hiding a smirk from him. His sloping green eyes soften from their earlier focus and he lets out a chuckle, playfully tickling her nose with the brush.
“You’re not gonna sneeze on me, are ya?” he asks, getting back to work on her cheeks and chin.
Her only answer is a quiet, affectionate smile.
After a careful application of blush on the apples of her cheeks, it’s time for her eyes. She watches him open her eyeshadow palette and rub a brush over one of the colors, and she quirks an eyebrow in concern. As he brings the small brush closer to her face, she draws back and looks at him doubtfully.
“Don’t put too much on,” she says, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
Mulder rolls his eyes. “Relax, Scully, I got you.” He starts in again, shifting a few times to find the best angle before gently brushing over her eyelids in an arc.
“I like the brown color,” Scully informs him, her eyes fluttering in an effort to stay closed.
“I know,” Mulder answers. He pulls back just long enough to show her the tip of the brush, which is covered in a tasteful brown, exactly the right shade.
Before she has time to process that he knows what color eyeshadow she likes, she’s being told to close her eyes again and she complies, soaking in the feeling of being taken care of in such an intimate way.
“How did you know what eyeshadow I wear, Mulder?” she asks during a moment’s respite, while he returns the brush to the palette to pick up more of the colorful powder.
Now it’s his turn to glance at her disbelievingly. “I look at you every day,” he answers, as if it were obvious.
She takes in a breath, willing her heart to start beating normally again. The look on his face makes it clear that he’s laughing at her, amused by her lack of self-awareness in this respect.
“And…” he adds amusedly, “this one has clearly been used more than the others.”
Of course, she laughs to herself. There’s no way he was looking at her close enough to guess what shade of eyeshadow she wears. Although his perception of the finer details is greater than that of the average man. He has his Oxford education and eidetic memory to thank for that.
“Who knew a background in profiling could come in handy as a makeup artist?” she says as he finishes blending out the color.
“It was actually one of the main selling points when the FBI recruited me,” he deadpans, enjoying the banter. He could almost forget why she wasn’t able to do her own makeup.
The mascara comes out next, and it requires Mulder to encroach on her personal space even further, to the point where she can feel his breath on her face. He smells of peppermint toothpaste and hazelnut coffee, and she even catches the scent of his shower gel, like fresh rain water. All of this she counts as a marked improvement to the antiseptic smell of the hospital. It smells like their office. It smells like home.
When he’s done all he can to her eyelashes with her eyes closed, he asks her to open them so he can give them the finishing touches. Her eyes flutter open, and she is mildly startled to find him hovering only inches away.
“Do you have to be that close to my face, Mulder?” she asks, carefully hiding her nervousness behind a laugh.
Mulder chuckles and goes back to work, gingerly running the brush over her lashes. “That depends, do you want to be poked in the eye, Scully?”
Resigned to their positioning, she fights the urge cup his elbow with her hand, steadying him as he completes arguably the most delicate part of this routine.
“There,” he says, leaning back at last. “I think that about does it. Except—”
He pauses, reaching onto the tray table to grab the lipstick she’d picked up earlier.
“I knew I was forgetting something.” Before she can prepare herself, he’s removing the lid from the tube and drawing closer again, his hand finding its way to the back of her head to hold her still. She hardly dares to breathe, feeling his fingers threading through her hair as he carefully runs the tip of the lipstick over her lips, depositing the bright color on their surface.
She looks more alive than she has in a while, even if it is a false image.
She wants to avoid eye contact, being this close, with him doing this thing for her, but she can’t. Her eyes are locked on his as they focus intently on keeping the color within the lines of her plump lips. A few times, his eyes flick up to hers, and she catches the way the corners of his mouth quirk up when they do. She wonders what he’s thinking.
In no time at all, it’s done. Every last detail has been tended to, and he pulls back to survey his work. The hand that was resting on the back of her head drags forward along her jawline, and ever so lightly, his thumb comes to rest over her newly-painted bottom lip.
“There’s my Scully,” he says quietly. Proudly.
She feels the tears pooling in her eyes, but there’s nothing she can do about it. He, thankfully, doesn’t mention it.
“Can I see?” she asks, her voice managing not to waver too badly.
He smiles and nods, reaching for a handheld mirror and holding it out to her.
She’s not sure what she was expecting—clown makeup, maybe—but that’s not what she sees at all.
“Oh, Mulder…” She’s finding it very difficult to withhold the tears that are trying to escape. “You—you did a great job.”
Aside from perhaps just a little too much blush, everything is as it should be. She looks healthier, more confident. Her makeup is a mask. It is comforting to her, makes her feel like she can face whatever it is that lies before her. Mulder has always been able to see past that mask, and if it were anyone else, it might bother her. But not him.
“You didn’t cover my mole,” she says, reaching up to touch the offending spot beneath her nose.
Mulder takes her hand and pulls it away from her face. “Cause it’s cute,” he answers simply, smiling at her almost reverently.
She’s surely blushing now.
“How do you feel?” he asks. What a loaded question that is.
She tilts her head, surveying the surface of her face from every angle in an effort to stall long enough to regain her composure. It’s a placebo, she knows, but she feels reinvigorated. Ready to fight another day.
“It’s been a while since I’ve felt like myself,” she answers, her voice thick with emotion. “I… I look beautiful.”
He nods, an unnamable look in his eye, and she swears she hears a mumbled, “You’re always…” before he trails off, dropping his gaze to his lap. He subconsciously squeezes her hand once before letting it go, instead occupying his hands with putting everything away.
“You really did do a good job, Mulder,” Scully speaks after the somewhat awkward silence had persisted long enough. “Have you done this before?”
With a zip of her makeup bag, Mulder looks up at her with squinted, suspicious eyes and jokes back, “What me and the Lone Gunmen do on our boy’s nights is none of your business.”
Scully laughs, amused by the imagery that conjures. Never one to be thrown off, however, she persists. “Well, someone must have taught you,” she declares, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “Who was it?”
She gets a devious look in return. “I’ll never tell.”
-.-.-
As Bill pulls into the driveway after his wild-goose-chase trip to the drugstore (“You made me look like a fool, Mom!”), Margaret Scully greets him, sliding into the passenger seat with a bag full of goodies for her daughter.
He seems to finally be getting over his mother’s betrayal by the time they arrive at the hospital. They walk in, accepting visitor’s badges which they stick on their shirts before taking the elevator up to the oncology ward.
Bill’s admonishing tirade, which had persisted throughout most of the car ride, lingers on between intervening silences as they make their way down the hall. Once they approach Dana’s room, however, Maggie shushes him, holding out an arm to stop him.
Through the window, she sees Mulder setting a tube of mascara aside and exchanging it for lipstick. Bill’s curiosity gets the best of him, and he leans over his mother’s head to see for himself what it was that made his mother pause.
“Let’s give them some privacy,” she says, putting a guiding hand on her oldest son’s arm.
Inside the room, Mulder pulls back, and Bill can see even from this angle how his cheeks widen in a smile. His sister looks like herself again, and he doesn’t miss the shine of tears in her eyes, or the wobbling smile on her lips. Since they were children, he has kept a careful eye on her, monitoring her emotions, the protective big brother that he is.
And that’s why now, he understands. He hadn’t realized before, his own fault for not wanting to believe it.
His sister isn’t being dragged through hell by a sadistic partner, bent on destroying her life and everything she holds dear in one fell swoop. No. The truth is that she does it willingly, walks by his side through even the darkest shadows.
Because Dana is in love with her partner.
And he is undeniably in love with her.
The pieces slowly come together in his mind, everything he knows about Fox Mulder. His mother must have seen it long ago, hence her willingness to help him this morning. And he would have stood in the way.
The thought fills him with shame.
Mulder’s love for Dana goes so far beyond what Bill himself knows about love, that he had almost missed it entirely. What a blessing it is for his sister to experience it, for however brief a time.
With one final glance into the hospital room, Bill allows himself to be pulled away and toward the cafeteria.
“You see now, don’t you, Bill?” his mother asks as they walk, her eyes looking to him hopefully.
He nods, feeling his throat close up with unexpected emotion.
“Yes,” he answers. “I do.”
-.-.-
An hour into Mulder’s in-depth explanation (and diagramming) of the anatomy of dinanthropoides magnipus, otherwise known as “sasquatch” or Bigfoot, someone gently taps on the door.
“Come in!” Scully calls out, thankful for the reprieve.
“I hope we’re not interrupting…” Margaret Scully says as she enters, followed closely behind by Scully’s brother.
Mulder scoots back in his chair, shuffling the papers he’d strewn about and trying his best to fade into the background to provide them some privacy.
“Not at all,” Scully says, and she’s sounding better already than she has since they’d gotten here. “I’m glad you came by. Bill, I didn’t know you were in town.”
Bill clears his throat and steps forward, looking a little uncomfortable but otherwise happy to see his sister.
“I had a few days’ leave. Tara and I decided to make a weekend of it.”
Scully nods and looks between her brother and Mulder, realizing they’d never actually been properly introduced. She hopes they’ll both behave. Lord knows she’s told Mulder enough about Bill over the years, and she’s very familiar with her brother’s opinions about her partner.
She coughs. “Oh, uh, Mulder, this is my brother, Bill. Bill, this is Mulder.”
The two exchange an odd look before Mulder stands, and Bill meets him in the middle with a firm yet friendly handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Mulder,” Bill says with a pointed look, not at all unfriendly.
Mulder nods with a funny half smile. “Likewise.”
There’s another look exchanged briefly before they let go, returning to their respective awkward stances.
“We wanted to bring you some new magazines,” Maggie speaks, carrying a tote bag over to Scully’s bedside. “And Tara sent us with some crayons and coloring pages, in case either of you gets bored.”
Scully smiles, her fingers dragging the corner of Mulder’s silly sasquatch diagram out from its hiding place under a stack of other papers.
“I’m sure Mulder will appreciate being able to enlighten me on the specific coloring of Bigfoot’s spleen,” she says teasingly, and Mulder briefly wishes he could disappear, fearing the look on Bill’s face.
When he looks up though, both son and mother are smiling in amusement, not a hint of malice on Bill’s face.
Maggie leans in to place a kiss on Scully’s cheek, holding her daughter’s hand in hers.
“You’re looking like you feel a bit better,” she says as she pulls away, brushing her fingers over her brow and pushing back a lock of hair. “Lovely makeup, too.”
 With these last words, she looks to Mulder and—discretely—winks.
“Doesn’t she look beautiful, Fox?” Maggie asks, goading him knowingly.
He rises to the challenge, his eyes finding Scully’s and holding.
“Beautiful as always.”
-.-.-
The TikTok video that inspired this made me sob uncontrollably, so I hope I captured some of those same emotions here. I beg you to go watch the video too, but have tissues at the ready. It seriously hasn't left my mind since I saw it the other day. I hope we all have the chance to find a love like that in this lifetime.
Tagging some people: @today-in-fic @teenie-xf @cutemothman @queenlovett @tygertygerfoggybright @baronessblixen
If you ever don't want to be tagged by me, just let me know! You won't hurt my feelings. Alternatively, if you want to be tagged if/when I write more X-Files fics, let me know and I'll make a list!
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sroloc--elbisivni · 11 months
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"so how's the vacation writing going" well i made progress on a couple of the Actual WIPs i have posted and then i also saw this art by @wtf-a-psychoanalysis for space leosagi with usagi in the slave leia outfit and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i blacked out and came to with 2800 words typed up on my phone in the Notes app. anyway. love to commit sexual violence against a man via application of aliens amiright. went in a different direction than jabba the hutt, this is far future in the space bodice ripper au when the guys are running around having space adventures. cw: implied sex slavery.
“Well?” Leo hissed, prodding one of Donnie’s feet.
Donnie kicked him, face intent on his wrist computer. “I’m working on it. The camera network in this place is stupid big. Are we sure this is a guy and not an AI?”
“We’re not even sure he has the thingamabob we want,” Leo said. “Hence, you, hurrying up, in our near future, please.”
“Um,” Mikey said, peering through the slats of the maintenance tube exits. “Is this a bad time to mention—“
“Probably,” Donnie said, not looking up.
“—that the guy I saw earlier is standing right there?”
“What do you mean right there?” Leo shoved him out of the way for a better look and got an eyeful of draping black cloth and white furry leg. “Oh. Right there, right there.”
“Yeah,” Mikey said, pointedly.
“Listen, guys, I got this,” Leo said, and shoved the maintenance hatch open. “Heeeeyyy, sorry to ask, but do you mind just moving down the hallway whiiiiii…”
He got about halfway through his sentence before he pried his head out to talk with this stranger and convince him that they were just a couple of maintenance guys doing very important work who should not be interrupted. This was about when he got a good look at the man—very much a man—and lost his entire train of thought.
The legs that were uh, pretty muscly actually, revealed by the drape and cling of rich black silk shot with gold, led up to a belt of gold hanging low on some shapely hips. Trim hips. Put all your weight behind a solid punch shaped hips. The torso crowned with wrapping curls of gold around the shoulders and pecs was also muscled, in that really nice dorito-shaped bulk way. Scars crisscrossed the soft-looking white fur in more than a few places—a starburst on this hip, a slash on that shoulder, a scattering of burns like a meteor shower across the torso. Leo really wanted to touch all of them.
The look on the guy’s face said if Leo did that he probably would only get to enjoy it for like. Three more seconds before his untimely demise. He was some kind of rabbit alien, ears bound on top of his head and draping down like a fancy hairdo. There was one more scar over his left eye, arcing like an extra eyebrow and lending some punch to his glare.
“While what?” he asked.
“Um,” Leo said. Words. He could do words. Eventually.
The rabbit rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall and bracing his elbows in a way that showed off his abs. “Listen. Whatever you’re up to, I don’t actually care. If you’re going to try to kill Hikiji, I’ll have to stop you, but until you’re at his throat? Not my problem.”
“We’re here to rob him, actually,” Mikey chirped, sticking his head out of the tube next to Leo’s torso.
“Great. I mean it. Please, rob the bastard blind.”
“Do I. Uh.” Leo shook his head dragging his tongue back into place. “Who are you?”
The rabbit smiled. It didn’t look like a happy smile. “These days? No one.”
“Nice to meet you, no one,” Mikey said, and Leo elbowed him back into the vent so he could pull himself up and get on eye level with the rabbit.
“So, do you maybe wanna help us?” he asked, hopefully. If they could just get this guy to come with them, a little longer, maybe he’d loosen up a little bit. He probably had a nice smile, when he was happy.
For the moment, the rabbit loosened up enough to blink and snort. “What the hell, sure. What do you want to know?”
“Where’s the vault?” Donnie yelled from inside the vent before Leo could embarrass himself by asking for this guy’s number. “This map is useless!”
“He has fake copies of the blueprints on the servers. The real ones are metal engravings in the engineer’s quarters and can’t be photographed.”
“That’s—horrifyingly impressive. I hate that.”
“So do the engineers,” the rabbit said, dry. “Which vault? There’s three, but I don’t think you want the one for alcohol.”
“Wherever he keeps the, the,” Leo snapped his fingers, trying to remember.
“The Mambrino basin,” Donnie said. “Smallish, gold, contains a code only activated when a certain fluid is poured over it?”
“Oh, that. That’s in the leeward vault. You’re about three floors too far up.” He pointed down the hallway, and Leo admired the pretty blue crystal on an elaborately wrought bracelet he was wearing. “There’s a ladder that’s been locked for the last year, but if you’re blocking the cameras, you can probably bypass that too.”
A brief squabble ensued as Mikey and Donnie both attempted to leave the vent at the same time and tangled up their limbs. Leo ignored them with long practiced and grinned charmingly at the hot rabbit, trying not to look at where the smooth arch of his hipbone jutted out beyond the edge of the skirt-thing. “Sooooooooooo…wanna come break into a leeward vault with us?”
“I’ll pass,” the rabbit said, but he looked softly amused. “You all are really going to do this, aren’t you?”
“Of course!” Leo swept a little bow. “Stealing from rich bastards is one of our specialties.” He straightened and winked at the rabbit. “Along with daring rescues, if you know anyone in the market for one?”
Oop. Wrong tactic. The rabbit gave this horrible sad little smile and looked away. “Plenty of those needed out in the galaxy, I’m sure.”
Donnie and Mikey had finally worked their way out and stumbled upright. Donnie looked the rabbit up and down and said “Your outfit is derivative and tacky, I could do better. Call me if you ever need a stylist. Where’s the ladder I’m opening?”
“I’ll—” The blue gem on his bracelet flashed three times, accompanied with three chiming tones. The rabbit straightened immediately. “Down the hall, that way, third door.” He jerked his chin, didn’t point. His pointing hand was too busy wrapping around the bracelet, which had started to blink.
Leo grabbed up the rabbit's wrist—he was clutching it like he was in pain.
This was obviously a mistake. The rabbit’s eyes flashed and he jerked back.
“Let me go,” he snarled, and Leo was startled enough to drop his grip entirely.
“I—sorry,” he blurted. The rabbit was already turning around and striding away, black cloth swishing between his legs.
Leo hated to see him leave, and somehow, he didn’t much like watching him go either.
“C’mon,” Mikey said, tugging at his elbow. “The next person who catches us out here isn’t going to be that nice.”
“Yeah,” Leo said, staring at where the stranger vanished. “Sure.”
They got all the way down the ladder before he persuaded Donnie to follow the guy on security cameras all the way back to the main throne room of this big evil villainous castle on a meteor they were infiltrating to pass the time.
The rabbit walked in from a side door, not the big front one, and headed right for the big fancy dais where a human-looking alien in black and gold and brown was sitting like he owned the place.
The rabbit walked up to him and dropped to his knees. The guy, who had to be the Lord Hikiji they’d come here to rob, waved one hand for the rabbit to approach his fancy bench throne. When he came in reach, Hikiji took his chin in one hand, possessively, and held him in a bent-forward position that looked like it would be murder on the back.
The rabbit had his someone-else’s-untimely-death look on again, but he wasn’t…doing anything. Just standing there while Hikiji was saying something they couldn’t hear.
Hikiji turned his gripping hand into a caress down the rabbit’s throat and let him go. The rabbit moved to the side of the bench and dropped to the floor, leaning his back against Hikiji’s legs and staring at the wall. HIkiji rested one hand on his head like a Bond villain stroking a cat and seemed to forget about him.
“Hey, broskis?” Leo said, staring at the tiny screen like this might be the day he developed the ability to kill things with his eyes. “Change of plans. We’re going to destroy this guy.”
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jeon-s-sins · 1 year
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Middle of the Night | Part One
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Synopsis : In the world you lived in, humans were not the only inhabitants of Earth. For years, you had fantasized about your homeroom teacher without knowing his true nature. At night, you thought and dreamed only of him, unaware of the weight of your actions. What will happen when you finally discover what he is?
Incubus : An incubus is an evil spirit or demon who appears in the masculine form to sexually prey on sleeping women during the night. An incubus is what the stories from ancient myths and folklore also characterize as an entity that could impregnate women or even kill people while they were sleeping.
Word count : 5.9 k
n.a : English is not my first language, so it’s possible that there are some mistakes that I missed while proofreading.
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Index │☕️
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It was early August. You were about to start your last year of college after five damn years. You were both excited and not so excited. On the one hand, you were excited to graduate and enter the working world. On the other hand, you were a bit nostalgic. You would never have the opportunity to set foot in a school again. When you attend your children's parents and teachers meetings, you will, if you ever have any. Which is not a priority in your life right now.
The last year of the university also means a lot of stress and workload. As an International Business student, your senior year included a six-month internship abroad. So you have already started researching and sending applications to different companies abroad. Your destinations: Bali, Malta, and the Maldives. For this last year, you wanted to make it big. Go to a dream destination. So far, you have not received a positive response from any company. At the same time, August had come and gone, so most of them would be closing for vacation if they weren't already.
So, preferring to forget everything you'll have to do at the beginning of the school year, you decided to focus on the present. You are in a relatively quiet place, far from the city center and all that goes with it. Your parents owned a cottage near a lake. Every summer, you meet there to spend some time together. The rest of the year, you lived on campus. You had a dorm room that you shared with a girl who had become a good friend of yours over the past five years.
Unfortunately, the family reunion was coming to an end. Tonight, your brothers returned to their respective homes. Your parents were also returning to work, but would stay until the next day.
"YN, set the table, please."
Your mother, a great and renowned chef, had asked you or yelled at you from the kitchen. You were lazy to get up from the couch, but you did it anyway to avoid your mother's wrath. This lunch will be your last family meal. The next one probably won't be until after the holidays. And even then, it's not sure.
"Did you hear? There was another attack last night." Your father said as he sat down after pouring himself a red wine.
The last few days had not been easy. Many bad things had happened, shattering the tranquility of the population. A group seemed to have decided to attack the people for no reason, just for fun. Who would do such a thing? Only crazy people would do such a thing.
"This time, a young she-wolf was the victim of their cruelty. Her body was found dumped near a river. Stripped of everything she had, including her clothes." As if to emphasize your father's words, the news reporter had begun to speak on the subject.
This young girl, a werewolf, had been reported missing two days before her body was found. She had been the victim of several waves of physical and sexual abuse before she was stabbed about twenty times. It appears that the fifteenth was fatal.
It had been seven generations since the truth had been revealed to the world. Humans were not the only ones living on Earth. Among them were all the creatures that had been legends until then. We are talking about vampires, werewolves, angels and demons, elves, goblins, and many other fantastic and supernatural beings. Besides, there were some supernatural beings in your class as well. Despite their nature and stereotypes, they were not harmful to all of this; on the contrary.
Vampires were often characterized as immortal, merciless, and bloodthirsty. But this was far from the truth. In reality, they fed on blood, but were not all insane. Most of them were civilized, sometimes even more so than humans. In fact, your roommate was a vampire. There was a little bit of everything in your class: werewolves, vampires, nymphs, elves, and muses.
There was even a rumor that your homeroom teacher was a demon, and not just any demon. An incubus. An incubus is a demon that appears at night to sexually assault its victims while they sleep. They are also said to suffocate their victims because of their weight.
Whether this is true or not, you don't know. You have never met one or had the opportunity to fool around with one. At least, that's what you thought until today.
Lying on your bed, you exchanged messages with your roommate Chung-Ae. So far, everything has been going well. The conversations often varied. Sometimes you talk about your day. Other times you got into crazy games, but you never imagined that Chung-Ae would drop such a bomb in your face.
< By the way, do you know what I discovered? Or at least what they told me?]
[No, but I guess I won't wait long for you to tell me. >
< Do you know how conservative the man is about his private life?]
[I would like to say that everyone is. >
< I know, but I don't know if you remember the day we had an integration day].
[I remember it very well. That was the day we found out that Mr. Jeon wasn't human >
< Right!]
[Yes. So what? >
< After several years, we finally found out what he is.]
In fact, you've never wondered more about the true nature of your homeroom teacher. For months, the curious student that you are had tried to guess who he was, but the answer was always negative. You had even given up hope of finding out, so you decided to give up and move on. The fact that Chung-Ae announced a supposed discovery to you piqued your curiosity.
< It seems that Mr. Jeon is a demon].
They were speechless. You didn't think that Mr. Jeon was a demon. Sure, he was unbearably attractive, but it was confirmed that the thought never crossed your mind.
< But not just any demon. An incubus.]
Damn. This just gets better and better.
Since freshman year, Mr. Jeon has been your homeroom teacher. Once a semester, you would meet with him to discuss your studies and progress. You could also ask him questions. Every time you met him, you felt a strong attraction to him. It was as if something invisible was pulling you toward him. You almost succumbed to temptation and jumped into his arms more than once. You didn't care about the consequences. But you also felt a certain reluctance on his part. You were sure that you were not the only one who felt this attraction, not just physically.
At the same time, how could you not fall for your teacher's charm? He was quite a man - a demon at that. His body was strong, and his arms were three times as long as yours. Not to mention his thighs, my God. Thick and muscular, so much so that his pants didn't let them go unnoticed. His buttocks were bulging and plump, like peaches. The shirts he wore during class shaped his arms and pecs. Sometimes his pecs would squeeze his shirt so tightly that the buttons threatened to pop off at any moment. It drove you crazy. You couldn't concentrate during those lessons. You prayed that the buttons would fall off by themselves so that you could see his mounts.
Mr. Jeon's face was like a marble sculpture. His pink lips were enticing, and the scar on his cheek made him even more attractive. His cinnamon eyes were enchanting. Every time your eyes met, you were lost in them without regret. Even once, you seemed to see a slight smile on the corner of his lips when you came to after getting lost in his eyes. But it was short-lived, and he returned to his posture so quickly that you thought you had imagined it all.
You spent the rest of the evening researching the Incubi. You wanted to know more about these dark but fascinating beings. Not only that, you made many exciting discoveries, but you knew that people could say whatever they wanted on the Internet, especially on blogs. So you only considered the information frequently appearing on various blogs and websites. This meant it was more likely to be a relevant and current fact or knowledge. You also read some testimonies of people who decided to share their sexual experiences with incubi and succubi - the female version of incubi.
From what you read, these demons were called sex demons for a reason. A night with them was a guaranteed night of madness. But one thing you noticed was that in none of these testimonies did anyone talk about feeling crushed by the incubus that visited them. This was a good sign and proof that, once again, you should not believe everything you read and see on the Internet.
Some witnesses had even admitted that incubi and succubi could attach themselves to mortals. It was something rare but still possible. Something almost impossible but still existing, the experts in fantastic and supernatural creatures, made a rather exciting discovery. To understand their findings, we must go back to the time of the revelation of the existence of these beings.
Before coming to the human world and trying to have relations with them, incubi and succubi had tried it with each other. As a result, the pleasure and the end result were not the same. They were unable to produce babies and ensure the continuity of their existence. In addition, both male and female parties are dominant by nature, so during intimate moments, neither wants to give up their place as dominant to their partner and thus become dominant. Seeing that nothing was being done, they decided to try their luck with humans, which was successful. Not only were they able to maintain their dominant status, but they were also able to ensure the future of their species. The succubus automatically produced succubus babies and incubus babies, while the humans could have incubus and succubus babies or human babies.
It was also possible for a human to become an incubus or succubus, but not vice versa. No one knew how this was possible, not even the specialists. Only incubi and succubi see the secret. Not many people change their nature, but sometimes some people do.
Some websites explain how to summon your incubus or succubus. It was also pointed out that he didn't have to do anything occasionally and that they would appear on their own when they felt your call and desire. You wondered if Mr. Jeon felt your urge for him at that moment. At this thought, you blushed on your bed in the dark.
Deciding it was time for bed, you looked at the clock before turning off your laptop. 2 h 55. Almost three in the morning. They say it's nearly time for the devil and the demons. Not wanting to think about it too much to avoid nightmares, you had turned off your computer before placing it on your bedside table. You were careful not to drop it during the night and then went to bed.
It had been a few years - about three years - since you'd had sex with a partner, and it was taking its toll. You were more stressed and nervous. Nothing made you feel better, and you were sexually frustrated. Still, the one-night stand wasn't really your thing. You also weren't a very romantic person. If you had the opportunity to sleep with someone, you would be frustrated that the person wasn't Mr. Jeon, but you wouldn't say no. In fact, at this point, you'd be stepping out of your comfort zone lest you lose your mind and sanity.
Finally, as you lay on your bed, you got a crazy urge to masturbate. So, without thinking, you take out the petroleum jelly in your drawer, which is more discreet than a typical tube of lubricant, in case your mother or a family member searches your drawer. When you got up, you went straight to your private bathroom. You opened the cabinet where you kept your towels, cosmetics, and bath products and took out a white plastic box with flowers. As you opened the box, you took out another small white box with the same numbers as the big one. Inside were some of your favorite little companions.
There was your precious little butterfly clitoral stimulator that you had in black. The part that stayed out was a clitoral massager. While attached to it was another vibrator. The part that was left out was a slight butterfly shape. This part was used to stimulate the outer interest of the clit. The part that went into the pussy was shaped like a penis, six centimeters long and twenty-seven millimeters in diameter. While the outer part massaged the clit, the glans massaged the G-spot. They were pretty happy with this little device. It was relatively quiet and discreet. Practical when you go to hotels or your parents' houses for parties or vacations. It was also waterproof, so you could use it in the shower or bath, but a little extra was that it came with a bit of remote control that allowed you to control the nine different vibration intensities. So far, you have not exceeded intensity number six, which was not bad.
Then there was your second baby in the box. A vibrator in the shape of a rose, red. It had two functions. In the center of the rose was a hole that allowed the function of sucking. While on the other side, a classic vibrator allowed me to stick it in the pussy. The suction mode was a nipple and/or clit stimulator. We could make a choice.
Like the previous one, it was waterproof, silent, and rechargeable with a USB cable. It was made of silicone and had ten vibration frequencies and five suction modes. It was one hundred and ninety-eight millimeters high and thirty-five millimeters wide. They had this little gem for two months and were not disappointed.
Then the last of the family. This time it was just a slight pink color. Unlike its big red sister, there was no hole in the center of this little jewel, only a tiny tongue. It might have been small, but it was still powerful, with nine different levels of tongue vibrations that could make you see stars.
But for tonight, your choice was quickly made. Since Chung-Ae told you about Mr. Jeon, your body has been on fire, and your brain has been replaying many not-so-Catholic scenarios with your teacher. Unlike your classmates or the women in your college, your attraction to Mr. Jeon wasn't just physical; far from it. It was also about his personality. He was calm and collected. He was patient with his students, including you. His goal was to push his students to be their best. He was also close to his students, always willing to help them. He was passionate about his work.
The more you thought about him, the more your body burned. You were almost feverish. So, without wasting more time, you grabbed your butterfly clitoris stimulator, and the red rose for a sucking effect. Thank God your three precious babies are quiet. You couldn't forget that your parents were still home and their room was down the hall.
Back on your bed, you reached for your nightstand to get some petroleum jelly. You had finally gotten rid of all the tissue that covered your body and prevented you from accessing your private parts.
Brushing your clit and slit with Vaseline to lubricate them well, you had done the same with the stimulator on the inner and outer regions. Before you lay on your back and finally started to relieve yourself and let your fantasies take over, you inserted the clit stimulator into your pussy. Like a dick, you had gently pushed the glans of the part going into you, careful to let it slide in and out as the length stretched you. You sighed as you felt every millimeter of the stimulator slide into you, creating a good feeling of pleasure.
It had been a while since you had used it, playing with the youngest of the family. How could you miss this little miracle? Even though it wasn't turned on, you felt pleasure as it slid into you. Picking up the small remote control of the stimulant, you press the first button to turn it on before pressing the second button, just below the previous one. Immediately, you felt movement and a little pressure on your external and internal clitoris, also known as the G-spot. The intensity was not the craziest, but you all felt pleasure. This rhythm is perfect when there are two of you, and the other wants to torture his partner, making him want more than anything else.
Besides, your mind was already starting to produce scenes with you and your favorite teacher. Mr. Jeon. This man-made everyone addicted to him without even touching them. To fully immerse yourself in the illusion your mind was projecting, you had to be more comfortable before closing your eyes. The images in your mind were crystal clear. You might have believed it was all real if you hadn't known it was all a mirage. A reality you wouldn't mind.
You saw Mr. Jeon standing in front of you with his shirt off. You could finally see his body without any barrier hiding the magnificent view of his body. Only his lower body seemed covered by black sports pants that fit him well in all parts. All without exception. Seeing the shape of his cock pressed against the fabric of his pants, you were sure he wasn't wearing any underwear. The thought alone was enough to make you salivate. The way he stood in front of you, legs slightly apart, showed how much his family jewels must have weighed.
The look in his eyes burned your skin every time he paid attention to you. The room was dark, but the window was open, and the breeze came in, caressing parts of your body you were not used to feeling.
The only light source was the moon's faint rays, causing a silvery glow on the floor, part of the wall, and one side of your teacher's face.
A thread of light was also on your body, illuminating the most essential and intimate part of you. Neither of you broke the peaceful silence, although it was full of sexual tension.
Your teacher was delighted with the sight before him. You lay naked on your bed, your body trembling with desire for him and his cock.
The trickle of light that caressed your skin didn't let you see much, but he didn't care because the part that interested him more came to the fore. You had spread your legs wide, allowing him to see your pussy unhindered. Your wetness flowed from your slit and slid gently down your butt hole. Your clit was swollen with the excitement of seeing the man who haunted your nights and thoughts, even when you were awake. When you noticed that your teacher had his eyes fixed on your womanhood, your pussy clenched in anticipation of the man's cock - supposedly a lust demon - standing at the foot of your bed.
He didn't do anything. As he looked at you, you felt pleasure in your pussy and inside. You couldn't stand the weight of his dark, lustful gaze on you. You were about to lose your mind. He had to do something. Your desire for him only increased. You wanted to get up and jump on him once and for all. You needed to feel his hands on your skin. Furthermore, you wanted to feel his lips on yours. His writing is around your neck, putting gentle pressure on it, slightly cutting off the oxygen in your system, making you lose your mind.
"Please." It was the only thing you felt able to say in the state you were in.
You'd seen a smile form on his lips - as if his pants had magically disappeared. He was naked in all his glory. Adonis had nothing on. Mr. Jeon looked as if he had been carved from the finest marble in the world. His skin was flawless, and he didn't have a single hair on his chest, which made his skin look smooth. His caramel color drove you crazy. You wanted to taste it, to bite into it. Mark him as yours and no one else's.
He crawled onto the bed and approached you. He was standing over you, but he didn't touch you. All you could feel was the warmth of his body against yours and his musky, masculine scent caressing your nose. Enough to make you lose your mind even more. Holding on to his inactivity, you lifted your hand from the mattress to place your palm against his cheek. You moved his face closer to yours. Your teacher thwarted your plans when he grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the mattress above your head.
"No." Her voice was deep and husky, perfect for setting your body on fire even more. "Just be patient, you little bitch." He'd whispered, his lips caressing yours as he spoke to you. "You'll get what you deserve. In time. For now, let me enjoy you as you should." Then he sealed your lips. His other free hand was immediately on your womanhood.
Mr. Jeon wasted no time in getting to the point.
He began to move down your body until he reached the desired area. Jeon could see that your clit and lower lips were swollen with excitement. Sniffing your pussy, he loved the smell that came from that area. It wasn't the smell that all humans smelled, but as an incubus, he was given something more. Something more attractive, perfect for him. But that smell also pointed to something else he had been searching for, for a long time.
"Finally. I've got you." Without giving you time to understand what he was saying, he had fallen full mouth on your pussy. His expert tongue had gone straight to your slit to taste your nectar. And you were creamy, just the way he liked it. Feeling the touch of his tongue on your pussy, you let out a not-so-discreet moan as your hand came to rest on the top of his head, grabbing his hair. Jeon had moaned against your intimacy, making his mouth vibrate and increasing your pleasure.
He had no mercy. He devoured you greedily, as if he'd been deprived of you for a long time. "Mr. Jeon." You tried to moan quietly to not wake your parents, but it was mission impossible. This man was driving you crazy. Jeon doubled his intensity in response, alternating wildly between your clit and slit, getting you wet simultaneously. He licked, sucked, and penetrated you with his tongue. Your pelvis kept moving, and Jeon tried to hold it to the mattress, but you kept moving in pleasure, making him grunt increasingly, his mouth still glued to your privates.
You weren't far from climaxing. But you didn't want to come with Mr. Jeon's tongue around you. You tried to go around his cock. To feel it deep inside you while he was beating you fervently. "No." You protested just before you came.
"Patience, baby. I'm not done with you yet." You were relieved. You didn't want it to end so soon. Not to mention you hadn't had a chance to taste it yet. "Come on, my tongue, baby. I got you." His hands moved under your thighs, which were raised, to get a better grip on you before he doubled his licks.
"Mr. Jeon." You had surrendered to pleasure. Your body shook all over. Mr. Jeon continued his licking and sucking even though you were sensitive. With your hand still gripping your teacher's hair, you tried to push his head away, but he didn't move a muscle. "Way too much."
You'd pleaded, but he'd continued anyway. He collected all the wetness dripping from your slit, swallowing it as if it were the only thing he was allowed to drink from, and it had been too long since he had been deprived of it.
When Mr. Jeon felt that he had lapped you up, he raised his head and looked straight into your eyes. His eyes were dark and full of desire. As he got down on his knees in front of you, between your legs, you saw his hard cock. Long and thick. At that moment, you wondered if you could take it inside you. Your doubts were short-lived as your teacher fell over you, pressing your lips together in a lazy, searing kiss. His tongue had found an unhindered refuge in your mouth. You could taste yourself on it. Strangely, you didn't mind.
Your body had arched against his as you felt your slit invaded by his long fingers. Followed by another, then another. With three fingers inside you, you felt complete. Mr. Jeon was excited to see your reaction. He loved the way your body responded to his. His cock trembled as it touched your walls, tightening and swallowing his fingers even more. "Fuck." He'd said as he broke your kiss.
Feeling you sufficiently spread and ready to receive him, he had removed his fingers from your lower cavity before taking them into his mouth and sucking his fingers. He didn't want to waste any of your juices. It was far too precious to him. When he had nothing left on his fingers, he took his cock in his hand before pumping it. Your buttocks that had roamed over your lover's body had ended their trajectories on his well-rounded, plump, and firm buttocks. One of them had positioned between your two bodies before pushing his hand. Once there was nothing between you and her member, you'd taken it in your hand. "Oh yeah."
His head tilted back as you pumped his member with your hand. To make it better for Mr. Jeon, you'd stopped all movement before running your hand over your pussy, catching the wetness that leaked out before running it over his glans, lubricating it. "Fuck." Your hand slid over his hardened member with greater ease. As you moved your hand back and forth over his cock, you tightened your grip around it a little. "Just like that, baby. Keep going." His voice was hoarse as he encouraged you to continue.
Your teacher rested his face on your neck, then let your wet kisses fall on that area. One of your weaknesses was kissing the neck. Whether during intimate moments - like now - or just an innocent kiss. And if the neck kiss was accompanied by a hug from behind, that was the holy grail for you. You loved the feeling of arms wrapped protectively around your waist as your back was pressed against your partner's chest. It made you feel protected.
Your teacher juggled kisses on your shoulder and neck. Sometimes he'd move up to your earlobe and nibble on it. "Baby, don't stop." He begged you, and you loved the control he gave you over him. It wasn't easy for an incubus - if he ever was one - not to have the upper hand in the situation. That Mr. Jeon let you have the upper hand right now proved that he had some confidence and ease with you.
Your movements on Mr. Jeon's cock caused the tip of his glans to brush against your clit, giving you pleasure as well. You continued to pump him, but this time you weren't satisfied with just grazing the clit, but took advantage of the fact that you were in control to push the tip of his glans into your slit as well. "You like playing with my cock, don't you?" He had whispered in your ear in a deep, husky voice, sending a million shivers down your body. "You like to torture yourself by pushing my glans into you." You didn't answer, too busy pumping him and teasing the entrance to your privates. You wiggled your pelvis every time the tip of his penis made contact with your tunnel, increasing your pleasure.
Although he had allowed you to be in control until now, Mr. Jeon felt it was high time he took the reins back. So he took advantage of the moment when you titillated your slit by thrusting the tip of his glans into you to move your hand away from his length and thrust into you. Not expecting this from him, you let out a cry of pleasure. "Did you think I would always let you be in control?" You were no longer able to answer him. He was hammering fast and hard inside you. "Did you think I would let you use my cock to pleasure yourself, you little minx?"
Mr. Jeon grabbed your leg before placing it on his shoulder. "You were wrong." His hand had found its way around your neck as he pounded into you. You wanted to hold on to him, but didn't get the chance. Mr. Jeon again pinned your hands above your head as he continued his movements. "You wanted to torture both of us. Now suffer the consequences, baby." You started to whimper helplessly.
You were out of control. You knew you had a good chance of waking your parents, but you didn't care if you got caught right now. All you cared about was the pleasure your teacher was giving you.
His movements became wilder. He fucked you as hard as you loved. "Take me like the good girl you are." His grip had tightened a little.
Inside, you could feel his cock twitching, signaling that he was at the same stage as you, not far from your climax. "Mr. Jeon," he had kissed you on the mouth, cutting you off. "I know, baby. I can feel it." Your prey closed around your teacher's cock, choking him, making his hip movements harder and harder.
Finding it harder to keep your moans at a discreet volume, you'd found a way to keep yourself from waking the whole house.
Concentrating on running after your climaxes, your teacher had been surprised to feel your teeth sink into his shoulder, making him hiss and grunt. The pain of your bite mixed with his pleasure, causing him to convulse on top of you, emptying his balls into your pussy. Your partner's grunts, combined with his movements, were the cause of your orgasm.
The walls of your pussy clung to Mr. Jeon's cock, giving him tenfold pleasure. But he didn't stop moving his pelvis. He tried to make you feel it to the end without missing anything. As for Mr. Jeon, he was satisfied. You had bitten him. Even if the skin was not pierced, in his world, when two lovers bite each other during the act, it is a sign of ambivalence between violence and affection. The eternal duality between Eros, love, and Thanatos, death. It stimulates the wild and primitive side of each of the living. Mainly when these bites occur during the intimate moment between two beings - human, demon, or other - the most exciting places are the collarbone, the neck, the lips, the thighs, the buttocks, the breasts, and finally, the wrists. But it also meant that the other belonged to us.
"Wow." You didn't have enough words to describe how breathtaking it was. So much so that your legs still shook, and you had trouble regulating your breathing. Mr. Jeon was quite a man. He had everything to please everyone, women and men alike. Tonight, you had seen the duality Mr. Jeon had in him. In the eyes of everyone, he was a brilliant, talented, and dedicated man. He helped everyone who needed it. But once inside the four walls, this man was a demon. He knew how to put aside his dominant side to let his partner enjoy the power. The power to give pleasure to the other.
But he knew when to take control and dominate his partner. He wasn't rough, but firm and confident in his movements and words. His words were enough to make you lose your mind. And his voice. God, his voice. Hoarse and deep, just the way you liked it. When he spoke, your stomach would twist in all directions from the desire he was arousing in you, making you wet your pants. How often had you left his class with your panties soaked from excitement? It had happened so many times that you had lost count. Just thinking about it made you want a second round.
When you turned your head to look at Mr. Jeon, who was still lying on the mattress next to you, you saw him looking at you with that damned smile. You didn't have to speak for Jeon to understand what you wanted. Your body and your eyes betrayed you.
Positioned on his side facing you, still in Adam's outfit, your teacher had moved his face to yours before kissing your lips softly. "Soon, baby." His lips had brushed yours before they pulled away. When you opened your eyes again - you didn't even realize you'd closed them - you saw her figure slowly disappear. A pang of sadness and disappointment washed over you as you watched him slowly disappear. And yet, a sweet smile remained on his lips, showing his buck teeth. A smile you loved so much.
"No!" At the same time, your eyes opened, and you abruptly sat down on your bed. A wave of frustration washed over you as you came to your senses and realized that everything you had experienced with Mr. Jeon was just a dream. A damned plan, but it seemed natural. You didn't understand anything. You didn't even remember falling asleep. When you looked at the side of the bed where Mr. Jeon was lying, you saw your sex toys and the bottle of Vaseline.
When did you take it off?
You couldn't remember anything except the dream with your teacher. Your skin seemed to remember as well. You could still feel Mr. Jeon's touch on your skin. His hand had been all over your body. His lips had dominated yours, and you could feel that too. Your intimacy was still sore, remembering Mr. Jeon's abuse.
Everything was very confusing. But it was already very late - or relatively very early. It was seven o'clock in the morning, but you felt like you hadn't slept at all. Your body was crying out for rest, so you listened. You decided to postpone your little investigation. As soon as your head made contact with the pillow, your eyes closed, and you returned to dreamland.
Lying on his back in bed, Mr. Jeon stared at the ceiling of his room and smiled stupidly. He had finally found what he was looking for. Jeon was determined not to let it out of his sight again. Now he was sure that he had found the right person. For years, he had had doubts, but not anymore.
You were the one he had been looking for, for so many years. And it was only a matter of time before he claimed you and made you his forever.
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n.a : I hope you enjoy this short story as much as I do. To make sure you don't miss the progress of the chapters as well as their release, don't forget to check out the Working on and Updates section, where you'll find not only updates on "Middle of the Night", but also other stories and "One Shots" that you'll probably enjoy as well. Also, don't forget to check out the Masterlist, you'll probably find something for you among my other stories in progress and those to come.
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