Tumgik
#wanted to try with ink but was too scared
sanzosin · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Long legs, boi has such long legs..he tol boi!
sketch commission for @theevilscribbler
A softer moment...
gift Bonus:
Tumblr media
sometimes i get carried away or need to reset my mind or just do character study, dis boi is fun to draw!
151 notes · View notes
aropride · 1 year
Text
65 notes · View notes
euphreana · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
I got started working with ink and now I can't stop send help
27 notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months
Text
𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here
cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 
You see both sides of him now. 
“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 
“Hello,” you call back. 
The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 
“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 
“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 
“Shit, you wanna see?” 
You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.
He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 
“Another bat?” you ask. 
“Not cool?” 
“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 
“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 
You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 
The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 
“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 
“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 
“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 
You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 
“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 
“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 
“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”
“You don’t wanna line up?” 
“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 
“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 
“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 
You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 
Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 
“You okay?” he asks. 
You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 
“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 
“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 
“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.
He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 
“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 
You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 
You pull your head up slowly. 
He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 
Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 
You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 
With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.
You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 
Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 
“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 
You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 
“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 
“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 
This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 
His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 
“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 
“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 
He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”
You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 
“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 
He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 
You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 
“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 
You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 
“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 
You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 
6K notes · View notes
smileysuh · 1 month
Text
dark protector
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
tw/cw. mentions of past relationship abuse/trauma/cheating, alcohol, bar fights, Cheol gets grazed with a knife, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, blow job, pussy eating, fingering, pleasure dom!Cheol, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, size kink/manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, groping, Cheol is a big muscled tattooed man, creampie, birthday sex, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k
🍭 aus. tattoo/motorcycle au, nurse!reader, soulmates, etc…
☀️ mlist + an.  The tarot deck used in the prologue is ‘The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Guide Deck’ by Kim Krans. I had so much fun exploring a more spiritual-themed plot, the idea of soulmates and spirit guides and such :)
Tumblr media
Prologue
It’s been six months since your breakup. Six months of self-work and healing practices. Six months of connecting with your spirit guides, hoping you can work through this dark period of your life and come out the other side.
You’ve just gotten off a long shift at the hospital, where you work as an emergency room nurse. Cleaning up other people’s messes makes you feel a little more whole every day, it shows you that while your wounds might be deeper than the skin, you have the resources to fix things that seem unfixable.
After a shower, you slump onto your couch, your hands reaching for one of your tarot decks. It’s as if you can feel the energy radiating off your spirit animal cards, and you remove them carefully from the box, holding them close to your chest.
“Spirit,” you say softly. “I think I’m finally ready to try dating again. But I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll end up in the same situation as last time, finding a man who needs to be fixed- I know my pattern is finding broken men, and I’m done with that. I need guidance. I need some sort of sign that will show up when I meet the right person.”
Part of your healing journey was writing down what traits you’d want in a partner. You’d made a list that included, ‘kind, smart, patient, stable, loyal, and protective,’ and you’d folded to your own physical tastes by writing ‘tattoos’ as well. You can’t help it, you like the way art looks on skin, and although all the tatted bad boys you’ve dated in the past have been assholes, you’re holding onto a hope that you can find a good man with tattoos. You know they’re out there, you just have to find one.
“Spirit, can you help me pull a card, and whatever animal is on that card could be a tattoo that my future significant other would have?” you ask. “Please don’t choose a lion or a wolf or something super common- I want an animal that is a little more unique, something that couldn’t just be coincidence… but, I mean, if my soulmate is meant to have a wolf then I guess I can make that work.”
You hate questioning your guides, hate putting boundaries on them. If your soulmate has a stupid, overdone tattoo like every other man with ink, then so be it.
Taking a deep breath, you begin to shuffle your spirit animal deck. 
You’re not being too fast with your shuffle, you prefer to sit for a long time and wait for cards to pop out rather than force a reading with erratic motions. Focusing on your breathing, and your ask from the spirit, you wait patiently.
Soon, a card pops out, landing on the coffee table in front of you.
An Elk looks up at you, and you take a moment to assess the card before finding the guide book.
You flip to the Earth section, finding the Elk easily. There are a few keywords at the top of the reading, they say ‘Stable, resilient, headstrong, the father.’
Stable is a word you’d written into your boyfriend manifestation notes, and you consider that for a moment before reading further. 
“The great Elk represents the Earth element in its masculine form. This means it provides underlying support and stability amidst life’s many changes. An Elk personality is fully established in themselves and knows their core values. They become known and respected for acting in ways that uphold those values. Sometimes the Elk’s ego can become inflated, but for the most part, they make damn good fathers, mothers, lovers, and friends. The world needs more elk energy.”
You think about the type of man who could be stable, whether that’s financially or emotionally. You’re hoping to find a man as set and in love with his job as you are- the kind of man you could build a future with. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about kids, and the note that Elk personalities make good fathers and lovers makes the feeling of hope stir within you.
However, the Elk - like the Lion and the Wolf -  is a pretty common tattoo. 
“I’m wondering if I should ask for a second card,” you tell your guides. “This deck has numerous animals connected to zodiac signs. Fish for Pisces, Scorpion for Scorpio… I know not all zodiacs have an animal correlated to them, so I won’t use this as a defining factor, but… maybe to make things even a little more specific, could you help me pull a card to represent the zodiac sign for my future Elk tattooed boyfriend?” 
This feels like a lot. And you’re aware that there are only a few cards in this large deck that will actually connect to the zodiac, so you prepare yourself for a dud card.
You begin to shuffle, and this time, a card pops out even faster than the first. It’s face down on your coffee table, and you take a breath, willing this to be a sign.
When you flip the card, you find a lion staring up at you.
The lion is correlated with the Leo zodiac, and you swallow thickly, thinking about the traits generally connected to Leos. The words that come to mind are ‘confident, loyal, ambitious, and protective,’ two of which are traits you’d manifested.
You find your guidebook again, reading the top line of traits: “Patient, regal, a complete master.”
“The Lion is a master of the fire element and the living mascot of self-transformation. A lion personality dedicates their life to personal and spiritual growth. This dedication inspires some and intimidates others, therefore the Lion is respected by all but known intimately by few. Some mistake the Lion as hard to access or aloof, yet those with a keener eye know better. Lions are observant, stealth, and precise in their words and actions. They do not waste energy or resources. This card reminds us that self-mastery is available to all, no matter where our quest begins.”
You consider your reading as you put your deck away and head to bed. A Leo man with an Elk tattoo, someone who is patient, stable, headstrong, loyal, and maybe a little egotistical, but hopefully not in any ways that would be damaging to you like your narcissist of an ex-boyfriend.
You’re prepared to not find a man who fits this bill, but you feel a little better about narrowing down the traits you’re attracted to. Some people don’t believe in tarot, and while you can understand that, this reading has spoken to you in a way that you can’t quite explain.
There’s no timeline to the reading, and you won’t be restricting yourself waiting for a man with an Elk tattoo to sweep you off your feet, but it feels a little easier having some parameters. 
When you fall asleep, you dream of a large man standing in shadows, Elk-like antlers protruding from his head. 
Tumblr media
One:
“Tell me again how you found out about this place?” you sigh, getting out of your best friend’s car to stare at the tattoo studio.
“God, I’ve told you a hundred times,” Sunmin rolls her eyes. “One of my sister’s boyfriend’s cousins’s boyfriends work here.”
“I’m going to need you to say that slower.”
“My sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, his cousin is dating one of the artists here, and he says they’re all super hot. And I figured, since your tarot cards told you a few months ago that you’ll find some dude with an elk, a tattoo shop is a good place to look for him.”
“Okay, but please don’t bring up the actual tarot,” you plead. “People judge me for that shit all the time.”
“My lips are sealed but my eyes will be wide open,” she grins.
The two of you enter the tattoo shop, and the air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from the hot summer outside. Your friend chats with the receptionist about her consultation with an artist named Vernon, and soon the two of you are being escorted deeper into the studio.
It’s an open plan layout, with small sections for each artist. Only one man is currently tattooing someone, and you suppose that since it’s the morning, they likely get busier as the day goes on.
There’s a large man who approaches you and your friend as you sit in Vernon’s section. “Hi! You must be Vernon’s ten o’clock consultation! I’m Mingyu. Vernon’s just chatting with our boss in the back, but he’ll be out pretty quick.”
“Hi, I’m Sunmin and this is y/n,” your friend introduces you. “We have no problem waiting.”
“Cool. I don’t have a client for a while, I can keep you guys company while you wait for Vernon if you’d like.”
“We’d love that,” Sunmin beams. 
“How did you guys hear about us?” Mingyu asks, taking a seat on the tattoo artist chair.
“My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin is dating one of the guys who work here,” Sunmin explains.
“Is your sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan?” 
You’re shocked the man was able to follow what Sunmin just said.
“Yup! That’s him!” Sunmin confirms.
“Love that guy,” Mingyu grins. “Yeah, I’m dating his cousin. He told me he’d tell others about the shop but I didn’t think he’d actually follow through with it.”
“Well, here he is, following through,” Sunmin laughs. 
“So is this tattoo consult for you?”
Sunmin nods. “Yup! I’ve always liked ink, got a few small pieces, but I wanted something bigger for my thigh.” 
“How about you?” Mingyu asks. “Any future tattoo plans?”
“Not at the moment,” you respond, gaze shifting to a door that leads to the office in the back. Two men have come out, they’re both quite handsome, dressed in oversized hoodies that obscure any ink on their torsos. 
“I’ve actually been looking at elk tattoos,” Sunmin lies, “know anyone with anything like that?”
Mingyu opens his mouth to respond, but one of the men from the back is already approaching. “Hi, are you Sunmin?” he asks.
“That’s me,” your best friend beams.
“I’m Vernon,” the soft looking man smiles. Mingyu gets out of his seat, bidding a quick farewell before going back to his own section. As Vernon and Sunmin begin to talk about her tattoo plans, you find your eyes shifting to the man who must be the boss as he walks over to inspect the tattoo taking place.
He’s got a nice build, and you can see the outline of strong shoulders even from under his large black hoodie. He rolls up the sleeves, and you can see he’s heavily inked, but from a distance, you can’t make out any elk-like marks. 
Sunmin had done her best to try to ask Mingyu about a tattoo fitting what your tarot had told you to watch out for, but you suppose you shouldn’t be shocked that your soulmate isn’t in the first shop you’ve gone into. 
You relax against your chair, listening to Sunmin and Vernon talk.
You’ll do your best to find your Elk inked Leo, but you suppose you can’t rush the process.
Tumblr media
Two: 
You’re at a bar with friends when you hear a commotion just outside. As the designated driver of the night, you haven’t touched any drinks, and although it might not be anything serious, your emergency room nurse instincts kick in, drawing you to the possible danger as you quickly make your way to the front of the bar.
You catch the tail end of what’s happening, one bouncer chasing after some guy who’s booking it down the street, and another man being held back by a second security guard. 
The man being held back looks enraged, and he manages to break out of the bouncers grasp- which is when you see blood on the back of his white shirt.
“Fuck that guy,” the injured man snarles, and when he turns, you catch a glimpse of his profile.
It’s the man from the tattoo parlour, the one you assumed was the boss.
While he looks extremely pissed off, you can’t help but approach. “Excuse me,” you say quietly, grabbing his attention. “You’re bleeding.”
“Am I?” He looks over his shoulder, grabbing at his shirt where the blood is. “Fuck, he must have grazed me.”
Must have grazed him… with a knife?
“I’m uh… I’m an ER nurse, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask.
“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” the bouncer tells you, darting back into the bar.
“I’m fine,” the tattooed man tells you.
“Then there’s no harm in me taking a look to confirm that.” You try to smile softly at him.
The man looks at you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“I think I was at your parlour last week, my friend had a consult,” you explain. “I’m y/n.”
He looks you up and down. “Seungcheol.”
You can see the anger and tension dissipating from his shoulders. 
“Why don’t you take a seat on the curb and I’ll look at your shoulder?” you suggest.
Seungcheol sighs, but does as he’s told. He sits down, grabbing at the back of his shirt. You catch him wince as he tugs the bloodied fabric off, and you’re shocked at what’s revealed.
It’s not the slight gash that makes you take a step back, it’s the Elk head tattoo on the center of his spine, with large antlers tangling up toward the back of his neck.
“Is it that bad?’ Seungcheol asks, looking over his shoulder at you again.
“No, it’s not that.” You do your best to compose yourself, kneeling down to look at the wound, although your eyes keep going back to the Elk. 
The bouncer returns with the first aid kit, and Seungcheol sits there quietly while you clean the wound. “You’re right that it was a graze, but I still think stitches would be a good idea,” you tell him.
“I’m not going to the hospital,” Seungheol responds while you press gauze to the wound, bandaging him up with medical tape. 
“Why not?”
“I just don’t like hospitals,” the beefy tattooed man says simply.
You release a sigh. “Listen, I’m going to give you my number, and if there’s any sign of infection, call me, okay?”
“You said you're an emergency room nurse, right?” he asks, standing up when you finish with his shoulder.
“Uh huh.” Words evade you as you look at his chiseled chest, and you do your best not to be too obvious at the way you’re gawking at him.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did to piss off the dude with the knife?”
“It’s not important,” you respond quickly. “You identified it as a knife wound, and that’s all I needed to know.”
“I was in the emergency room one time, got stabbed by some kid outside a strip club, the nurses kept pestering me about the details. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like hospitals,” Seungcheol explains.
“Well, your business is your business,” you tell him. “All I care about is that your wound doesn’t get infected, and you take care of it if you’re not getting stitches.”
Seungcheol’s gaze feels hot as he stares at you, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Here. For your number.”
Your fingers are shaky as you type in your digits before handing it back to him, and you can’t help but notice the way your hands briefly touch.
“I need a drink,” Seungcheol says. “You coming back inside? I’ll buy you something, as a thank you for not pestering me.”
“No thanks is necessary,” you try to assure him, but Seungcheol is already reaching for your hand.
“Don’t fight this,” he tells you. “Let me say thank you in the way that I know how.”
You allow the big burly man to guide you back into the bar. He orders himself a shot of tequila, then turns to you expectantly.
“Uh, can I get an iced tea?” you ask.
“Not drinking?”
“I’m the designated driver tonight,” you explain. “My friends are over there-” you turn and catch your whole table of friends staring at you. 
Seungcheol follows your gaze and smirks, offering your friends a small wave. “Okay, so you're a stay in your lane ER nurse, and you’re a designated driver.”
“That sums it up I guess,” you laugh.
“She’ll get an iced tea,” Seungcheol tells the bartender.
You like that he’s not pushing you. Some people pressure you to drink when you’re out, but you like to have your head screwed on straight on your shoulders. You never know when an emergency is going to happen, and your soul calling is helping people. On top of that, it’s nearly midnight, and you’ve got a shift in five hours that you need to be sober for.
“I’m trying to find red flags with you, you know?” Seungcheol says nonchalantly. “But so far, I’m not seeing any.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t have any?” you suggest.
“I’ve been told I’m a walking red flag,” Seungcheol muses. 
“Tattoos can be deceiving,” you point out, although, studies do show that people with trauma are more likely to be inked- all your ex’s have had tattoos, and they’ve all had dark pasts. You can’t help you type, and staring at the man with the elk on his back, you wonder if this is going to be just another repetition. 
Your drinks are set in front of you and you watch Seungcheol down his tequila shot. He shakes his head out a little at the taste, and you appreciate the way his dark curls look with the motion. 
“Anyways, you’re here with friends, I won’t keep you,” he sighs.
“Thanks for the iced tea,” you smile softly.
“Don’t mention it,” Seungcheol nods.
You mirror the movement, grabbing your drink and heading back to your table.
The moment you’re seated, all your friends erupt into chatter.
“Who was that?!” one asks.
“He was hot!” another friend notes.
“Wasn’t that the dude from the tattoo shop?” Sunmin questions, looking after Seungcheol. “Is he… bleeding?”
“Yeah, it’s the guy from the parlour,” you sigh. “His name is Seungcheol, and yes, someone tried to stab him outside.”
“Jesus!” Sunmin’s eyes widen. “But… he bought you a drink?”
“I just cleaned the wound and bandaged it,” you explain. “He insisted on getting me a drink.”
“Well… that’s nice, isn’t it?” one of your friends says thoughtfully.
“I guess.” It’s clear you don’t want to talk about this further, and your friends quickly go back to discussing something else, but you inch closer to Sunmin. “He has a tattoo.”
“He has a lot of tattoos,” she laughs.
“No, he has like… this big elk head and antlers on his back.”
“What?!” 
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warn her, not wanting her to raise her voice too loud so your other friends hear. You’re quite private about your spiritual leanings. Being a woman of science, and ER nurse no less, sometimes it feels like believing in fate isn’t something that works well with your job.
“We’re talking about this later,” Sunmin tells you.
“Yeah.”
You sit back, thinking about it.
Obviously your interaction with Seungcheol was short. He came off as a bit of a hot head, perhaps you’d even use the word brash- there was certainly a level of ego that radiated off of him as well, but, at the same time, he’s one of the most handsome tattooed men you’ve ever met.
You’d asked your guides for a sign, and tonight, the Elk had bared its antlered head.
Now it’s up to you to decide if you trust in fate, or if this is all just a coincidence. 
Tumblr media
Three:
You’re about seven hours into your eight hour shift. Having started at five am, after being a designated driver and getting your friends home at three, you’re quite tired. Things were very busy for a while in the emergency room, but for whatever reason now that it’s noon, things have seemed to calm down a little.
You’re just sitting in the nurse station with your coworker Joshua when your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s an unknown number, and at first, you’re not sure if you should answer it.
Against your better judgement, you bring your phone to your ear, “Hello?”
“Is this the stay in your lane ER nurse who’s also the designated driver?”
You let out a sigh. “Y/N.”
“Yeah, you.”
“Hi, Seungcheol.”
“Hi. So, I tried to stitch up the wound when I got home, and I’m not sure if I did a good job.”
“You tried to stitch it up?” you ask, already exasperated. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it at the bar?”
“I just didn’t,” he says simply.
“Send me a pic of the stitches,” you instruct.
“One sec.”
You wait patiently, and Joshua catches your eyes. ‘What’s happening?’ he mouths.
You quickly mute your call. “Some guy I helped at the bar last night got grazed by a knife, he didn’t want stitches, but decided to try to stitch himself up this morning.”
“What the fuck?” Joshua laughs.
“Okay, sent.” Seungcheol’s voice makes you hit the unmute button, and you open your messages to see the picture.
Joshua rolls closer, staring at your phone. While Seungcheol’s broad muscular back is a bit of a distraction, the stitch up job on the wound is sloppy, and draws most of your attention.
“Seungcheol,” you sigh. “I’m going to say this in the nicest possible way. You might be a tattoo artist, but your stitching skills are sub par at best.”
The line is quiet for a moment, then you hear a chuckle. “Someone’s in a grouchy mood.”
Joshua’s eyes widen, and he looks at you for your response. 
“You would be too if you spent all yesterday sleeping, woke up to be a designated driver for your friends, got home at three and had to be at work for five.”
“Oh… are you at work now?”
“Uh huh.”
“I shouldn’t bother you then,” Seungcheol says quickly.
“It’s no bother,” you assure him. “Look, I’m off in an hour. I’ll swing by to your shop to check out the stitching. Most stitches should be sewn within six to eight hours, we’re bordering on twelve- I just want to make sure there’s no infection.”
“You should just go home after work.”
“You should listen to your ER nurse and let her help you,” you retort, too tired to argue with him over this.
Seungcheol makes a groaning sound. “Fine.”
“See you in an hour.”
You hang up the phone and Joshua looks you up and down. “What’s his deal?”
“Honestly,” you sigh, “I couldn’t tell ya.”
Tumblr media
Four:
You and Joshua often have the same shifts, and you carpool together to feel more green, so it’s Joshua who drives you to the tattoo parlour when you’re done work.
Seungcheol is waiting outside, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he eyes Joshua as the both of you get out of the car. 
“Hey,” Seungcheol says as you approach, “who’s this?”
“My coworker, Joshua,” you introduce them, and Joshua has the decency to hold out a hand.
You hold your breath, releasing it when Seungcheol gives him a customary curt handshake.
“He’s your ride?” Seungcheol asks.
“Uh huh, is that a problem?”
“I just don’t feel comfortable having him around while you check out my shoulder, even if he does work with you” Seungcheol explains. “Listen, I’ve got a motorcycle and an extra helmet in the shop, how about I take you home after this?”
Both men look at you, and for a moment, you feel flustered and put on the spot.
You’ve never been on a bike before- but fuck it, you’re too tired to work through Seungcheol’s weird alpha behavior and territorial mentality about you having a male coworker with you.
“That works,” you agree. “Thanks for the ride, Josh.”
“Text me when you’re home,” he warns, pulling you in for a hug.
You can practically feel Seungcheol staring daggers at the two of you when Joshua pulls away and heads back to his car.
Seungcheol’s demeanor is a bit icy as he leads you into the shop. You notice Vernon and Mingyu. Mingyu even says a loud “Hi, y/n!” and you nod politely as Seungcheol takes you into the back office, closing the door.
“So, is that dude your boyfriend?” he asks, heading to the first aid kit already open on his desk.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone right now. My last ex, uh… he did a number on me.” 
“Yeah?” Seungcheol takes off his shirt while you grab medical gloves to pull on. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I’m not sure what there is to say,” you admit with a sad laugh.
“Then you don’t have to say anything,” he decides.
“How about you?” you ask, softly prompting him to turn away from you on his spinny chair so you can assess the wound, gently removing the gauze. 
“What about me?” he counters.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Nope.” He’s quiet for a moment. “My ex was a bit of a shit show too.”
“Well I guess we’re kindred in that at least,” you smile, leaning close to get a better look at his shoulder. 
Seungcheol shivers slightly, and you think your breath on his throat must have set him off a little, but he stays silent. You notice his hands balling into fists on his thighs.
“I think your stitching can stay, but I’m going to clean your wound again and rebandage it.”
“Sounds good,” Seungcheol responds gruffly.
“While I’m doing this, do you mind if I ask about your tattoo? This big Elk?” You gently graze your surgical gloved pinky finger down his spine, and Seungcheol shivers again.
“Jesus, don’t do that,” he snaps.
“Sorry. It’s a pretty tattoo, I couldn’t help myself.” Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and you notice Seungcheol’s ears turning red too.
“I uh,” he swallows thickly. “My grandma was a tarot reader. She was always doing these readings, very connected to the Earth and shit. She used to tell me I had an Elk soul, like her. Something about spiritual guidance, protection, kindred souls or some shit. I’m not super into that stuff, but when she died, I kept having these stupid Elk dreams. Sort of felt like she was trying to communicate with me- if you believe in that sort of thing. Anyways, I figured if I got the tattoo, I’d feel closer to her, like she has my back.”
This is not the tattoo explanation you’d ever considered would come from a man like Seungcheol, and it takes you a few moments to register it and decide on a response.
“It sounds like you were very close with your grandma, I’m sorry that she passed.”
“It’s okay,” Seungcheol shrugs it off. “Shit happens.”
And just like that, he’s closing up again.
You wonder if you should tell him about your tarot connections, but you don’t want to sound like some crazy chick if you mention your spirit guides pointing you toward an Elk. Instead, you bite your tongue as you finish up his wound. 
“All done,” you announce.
Seungcheol doesn’t say anything as he stands up and puts on his shirt. “What’s your address?” he asks, pulling out his phone.
You show him on the maps where you live. “Are you sure you want to give me a ride? Don’t you have… clients?”
“I can get you home and be back in time for my next appointment,” he assures you. “Think of this as another way of saying thank you for fixing me up.”
So far, he’s shown two love languages. He’s bought you a drink, and now he’s doing an act of service. He’d seemed hesitant on touch today, unlike last night when he’d been drinking, and you wonder what his history in relationships is like.
It sounds like you’ve both had shitty past experiences.
You just want to figure him out.
“Have you been on a bike before?” Seungcheol asks, grabbing a small black fullface helmet off a shelf of motorcycle memorabilia. 
“No.”
“Are you scared?”
“More tired than anything else,” you admit with a laugh.
“Well, my Harley has a sissy bar, so you’ll be okay.”
You don’t even know what a sissy bar is, but you follow Seungcheol out to his bike anyways. 
“Here, we can put your stuff in my saddlebag,” he explains, opening a large additional compartment near the back tire of his bike. “I don’t always ride with these, but for whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have them on today.”
He helps you put your work bag in his bike, and then, he helps you with your helmet, his fingers delicately grazing your throat as he tightens the strap there.
“If anything is wrong, just tap my thigh,” he tells you, swinging a leg over his bike and starting the engine.
Even with layers of protection over your ears from the helmet, his Harley is loud. It purrs, like a lion, and you stand in a daze for a moment before he makes a motion for you to hop on. 
You’re careful of his injured shoulder as you slowly get on the bike, adjusting yourself on the seat. 
Seungcheol reaches for your hand, settling it on his hip. He opens his visor. “Ready?”
You nod.
He nods back, and the bike roars to life. He pulls out of the parking spot, and you hold on tighter, thankful for the additional padding of a safety bar behind your back- is this the sissy bar he was talking about? 
You can’t dwell on motorcycle terms as Seungcheol gets onto the street, the bike moving even faster. The feeling of summer air is hot but pleasant on your skin as you ride between cars. You get the sneaking suspicion that Seungcheol is holding back on his driving-
You could imagine him weaving between vehicles and being a general menace on his bike, but with you on the back, he’s trying his best to be a gentleman.
You’re shocked at the trust you already have in this man. A man who a little over twelve hours ago, was a stranger.
You’ve never considered yourself an adrenaline junkie, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, everything else slips away.
You’re at your home before you know it, and you almost feel sad when Seungcheol pulls up to the curb. He motions for you to get off, and he joins you on the sidewalk a moment later, quickly helping you with your helmet.
“How was it?” he asks.
“That was super fun,” you tell him, beaming.
Seungcheol grins when he sees the expression on your face. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Listen, keep the helmet for now,” Seungcheol says. “I have your number and I know where you live, so I’ll come back for it.”
You feel your expression drop, and Seungcheol cocks his head to the side, concern written on his face.
“You good?”
“I just-” you swallow thickly. “Sorry, my uh- my ex used to say that to me. That he knew where I lived when I broke up with him. It felt like a threat, and it’s one of the reasons I had to move a couple of months ago.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “Fuck that guy.”
You nod. “Fuck that guy.”
Tumblr media
Five:
You’ve had Seungcheol stuck in your head. After he’d dropped you off, it had been hard to sleep, your mind preoccupied with his answer about his tattoo. When you’d finally woken up hours later, you hadn’t been able to help yourself, you’d pulled out your tarot deck.
“Spirit,” you’d breathed. “I think I may have met him. The Elk. And even though you’ve given me the sign with his tattoo, I feel like I need more confirmation. I’m going to shuffle, and if this is meant for me, can you please give me a love card?”
There are numerous cards within the deck that talk about relationships, partnerships and new beginnings, and you’re hoping that one pops out.
You begin to shuffle, closing your eyes and taking it easy.
It’s about a minute before a card pops out. It’s upside down on your coffee table. 
You take a deep breath, slowly reaching out to flip the card.
The Two of Cups stares up at you, and you don’t even have to open your tarot guide book to know what that means. It’s a card of unity, of partnership. Other than the Lovers, it’s one of the most clear relationship cards you can get. 
You stare at it for a long while. The Elk may have been a coincidence. The fact that his own late grandmother had been a tarot reader may have been a coincidence. But pulling the Two of Cups, out of any other card, when seaking confirmation- this feels like fate. 
Part of you wants to be extra sure and ask for the lovers card, but you also think this might be a good time to trust your spirit team. They’ve guided you twice now, and maybe you have to look inward.
Why are you so cautious that Seungcheol might be the one?
Are you ready for a new relationship?
You’d thought you were ready- and here you are, meeting a man who fits your type-
Maybe it’s the fact that he is your type that you’re worried. What if he turns out to be a dickhead like the last ones? You’re still holding onto a lot of fear. You want to protect yourself, which you validate as a legitimate concern.
But… are you going to spend the rest of your life frightened?
Or are you going to try to let go of those fears and learn to trust again, even if it ends up biting you in the ass?
The possible risk is heartbreak, but the possible reward is endless happiness.
Fate can only do so much, this is the part where your own actions will dictate the future.
Tumblr media
Six:
“So, how’s that dude with the tattoos doing?” Joshua asks, taking a seat next to you in the nursing station when things have finally calmed down.
“Cheol? I uh… haven’t talked to him since he dropped me off at my place two days ago.”
“Is that good or bad?” 
You shrug. “I’m not sure. We’re both busy people. I work here, and he owns a tattoo shop.”
“I guess that’s true,” Joshua nods. “Maybe you should call him and see how he’s doing?”
You quirk a brow at your friend. “What’s your angle here?”
Now it’s Joshua’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “No angle. I think, as your friend, sometimes it’s important to give you a little push. After all, your tarot said he’s your soulmate.”
Joshua’s one of your only coworkers who you’ve felt comfortable opening up to. He knows about all your spiritual inklings, and you’d filled him in on your whole Elk, Leo, Two of Cups fiasco yesterday. 
“Fine, I’ll give him a quick call,” you sigh. “Strictly as a nurse who wants to see how the wound is doing.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Joshua grins.
You roll your eyes at him, fishing your phone out of your pocket.
Seungcheol answers on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hi, how are you doing?” you ask, putting him on speaker phone. Joshua might be encouraging you to do this as a friend, but you know better than anyone that he also loves some good tea.
“Doing okay.”
“And your shoulder?”
“Good as far as I know… why? You worried about me?” You can hear the grin in his voice, the fact that he’s loving the concern you have for him. “I’ve had worse, you know.”
“I’d just hate for it to get infected,” you sigh.
“Look, if you want to do your due diligence as a nurse and everything, how about you get drinks with me and assess it yourself?” he suggests.
Joshua grabs your thigh, eyes widening, waiting on what you’ll say next.
“We could do that,” you respond.
“Sounds good, when are you free?”
“I’m off tomorrow.”
“How do you feel about eight o’clock?” 
“That works,” you nod.
“I’ll pick you up at eight then, and bring your helmet.”
You find yourself smiling. “Will do.”
“It’s a date. See you then.”
“Bye, Cheol.”
Your heart is racing as you hang up the phone, and Joshua immediately repeats Seungcheol’s words, “It’s a date.” 
“It’s a date,” you respond, jittery at the idea.
“Some guys are assholes and say ‘let’s hang out,’ but this one says ‘it’s a date.’”
“That’s a good sign,” you insist.
“A very good sign,” Joshua agrees. “If this dude ends up being the one, I might just have to get into tarot.”
Tumblr media
Seven:
You’re surprised to find yourself playing nighttime mini golf with Seungcheol on your date. “What happened to drinks?” you ask as he pays for your tickets and grabs your clubs from the attendant.
He shrugs. “Figured you’re a nurse so you might not wanna get on my motorcycle after I had a few drinks, also the fact that you were designated driver last time I saw you at a bar- I thought this might be more your style. But, I’ll warn you, I’m not going to go easy on ya.”
You laugh, pleasantly surprised at how astute this man can be. “I think this will be fun.”
“Me too.”
Seungcheol’s wearing black jeans and a charcoal v-neck that shows off his strong shoulders. He’s the epitome of your type: a bad boy with tattoos. Yet, when you begin to play, he’s shockingly patient.
“Let me show you how to hold the club,” he suggests on the second hole, waiting for you to nod before he steps behind you and wraps his body around your own. “Feet positioning is key.” He also gently adjusts your hands, and your heart leaps in your chest when he breathes against your throat. “It might take some time to get used to,” Seungcheol warns, “so don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t come naturally.”
You hit the golf ball, and it goes a lot closer to the hole than your first shot had.
“Did it take a while for you to get into mini golf?” you ask.
“Nah, I was always a natural,” he teases, flashing you a wink before he takes his own shot.
You admire the way his shoulders look with his back to you. “So what got you into being a tattoo artist? Into having your own place?” 
“Well, my grandma passed, and she left me a pretty big inheritance. She always thought I could succeed as a tattoo artist, but before that I was stuck doing blue collar type shit. I think, the money was her final way of telling me to follow my dreams. I’m kind of obsessed with ink, if you haven’t noticed.” He holds out his arms, which are littered with patchwork. “How about you? How does someone get into being an emergency room nurse?”
“I just like helping people,” you explain. “When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I’d always been scared of hospitals, but the nurse who helped me in emergency was an angel. She made it less scary, and when it was over, I realized I wanted to be just like her. When people come into the emergency room, it’s never fun. It’s frightening, and cold- and I want to be there for people who are going through that, to be a warm, friendly face.”
“My grandma had a light worker's soul too,” Seungcheol nods. “That’s what she always called it anyways. She wasn’t ever officially trained, but in her later years she got into herbal medicine. Anytime I was sick it was lemon and garlic chicken noodle soup with bone broths and the works- always made me feel a lot better.”
“She sounds like she was an amazing woman.”
“She was,” Seungcheol agrees. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think she would have liked you.”
You grin. “Is that an important trait you look for when taking girls to mini golf?” 
Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “It should be. My last ex wouldn’t have fit the bill, and at the time, I thought that was okay, but it didn’t end well.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I’ll talk about mine if you talk about yours,” he suggests. “You said your last boyfriend was a creep when you broke up, threatened to come to your place and shit, he sounds like a piece of work.”
“He was,” you sigh. “I’ve got this thing for big tattooed men, bad boy types. It always leads to me getting my heart broken. He would tell me I was the one and everything, but I found out he was cheating on me with some waitress at the bar he used to go to all the time.”
“So what I’m hearing is… I’m your type.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m sorry to hear that. Cheaters are the fucking worst.”
“Sounds like you’ve experienced something like that too.” 
“Looks like both of our ex’s were cheating fucks,” Seungcheol says. “I know it’s a red flag to talk shit about your ex or whatever, but some ex’s deserved to be talked bad about.”
You nod. “A hundred percent.”
“Did you think you were going to be with your last one forever?” Seungcheol asks after a moment.
“I thought so.”
“Me too with mine, I was just about ready to get her a ring.” He frowns, looking down at his golf ball. With a sigh, he easily knocks it into the hole. “Well, this is just the way life happens I guess.”
It’s clear you both have very similar wounds. You’re shocked at how easy it is to talk about this with Seungcheol. Some people say not to talk about ex’s on dates with new people, but this almost feels therapeutic. You understand Seungcheol better, and you’re sure he understands you too.
It’s promising to know he thinks about the future, that he’s ready to settle down, not all men are.
Maybe you’re both in the same boat with all of this, and that’s a hopeful thought.
Tumblr media
Eight: 
Seungcheol can’t seem to get you out of his head. 
He’d never thought of himself as a particularly superstitious man. His grandma had been spiritual, and he’d always loved that aspect of her. He’d enjoyed doing tarot readings and making all sorts of elixirs with her in the garden. She’d told him he’d be a successful tattoo artist, she’d seen it in the stars, and while she’d been a big part of making that premonition come true, he wonders what else she might be right about.
Seungcheol’s grandma had always told him he’d end up with a healer like her. A doctor, a psychiatrist, a nurse- she wasn’t very specific, but she’d said his soul would call in a light worker when the time was right.
He feels drawn to you, his little emergency room nurse, designated driver, light worker. 
It’s been such a short amount of time, but there’s something unexplainable about the way he feels.
“You look distracted,” Mingyu muses, coming to join Seungcheol outside the tattoo parlour where he’s puffing on his vape.
“Just thinking.”
“About your birthday party tonight, or that girl you brought through the other day?” Mingyu presses, grinning as he bumps his shoulder against Seungcheol’s. 
Seungcheol can’t help but sigh at his friend’s prying ways. 
“Look you don’t have to tell me anything, but summer is almost over and you need a backpack. My angel has been surrounded by testosterone motorcycle rides for months, and we’d all love another girl to be part of the group. You should invite her out tonight.”
Of course Mingyu’s coming at this from an angle of having a girlfriend. He and Wonwoo are obsessed with their ‘little angel,’ and Mingyu’s always talking about the joys of being in a relationship. It can get somewhat tedious for Seungcheol.
“Don’t you have a client soon?” Seungcheol sighs.
“Point taken, I’ll leave you be,” Mingyu says, patting him on the shoulder. 
As soon as his friend is inside, Seungcheol pulls out his phone. He thinks about what he’s going to say to you, before typing out an easy, “Up to anything tonight?”
He’s shocked by how quick your response is. “It’s Sunmi’s birthday this week so we’re celebrating tonight since it’s Saturday.”
Seungcheol’s mood drops, and a moment later, you’re calling him.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you respond. “How are you doing?”
“Not so bad.” He wants to tell you that it’s his birthday tonight, wants to try to convince you to come, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to guilt you, doesn’t want to mess up your plans. “What’s up?”
“I just… I know we’ve only gone on one actual date, and I only met you a week ago, but… I just want you to know, when I go out tonight, I’m not going to be hitting on anyone or anything.”
He’s taken aback for a moment. “I wasn’t really worried about that.”
“Okay! Good! I just- I know with your ex and everything- and I just, I figured I’d clarify, even though we’ve only been on one date, I’m a one guy at a time kind of girl.”
He respects that you’re so direct about this, and he appreciates your loyalty. You really are a good person. 
“I’m a one girl at a time kind of guy,” Seungcheol says finally. “Glad we’re on the same page about that.”
“Me too.” He can hear your smile, and it makes his heart swell. 
“Anyways, I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight.”
“I will, bye, Cheol.”
Tumblr media
Nine:
You’re having a great night. The drinks have been flowing, and you’re having a fun time celebrating Sunmi’s birthday. Things are fuzzy in the best way- until you hear a familiar voice say your name.
You turn to find your ex standing close to you at the bar, and your heart sinks in your chest.
“It’s been a while,” your ex states.
You can’t even find the words to speak, suddenly getting drunk seems like a horrible idea.
You’ve just started to feel safe again, to feel stable- you’d thought being out with your friends, you could let loose, but now your ex is here and your heart is beginning to race.
“Have you been drinking?” your ex asks, coming to stand closer to you at the bar top, where you’d been sipping a gin and tonic. 
“I, uh-” your words catch in your throat, and you swallow thickly. “It’s Sunmin’s birthday.”
Your ex nods, and when you look toward your table, you see Sunmin gaping at you.
Turning away from Sunmi, your ex addresses you. “Is she still a huge bitch?”
“I-” you want to defend your friend, but you feel frozen. You can’t think- you’re completely overwhelmed, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your heart like thunder in your chest.
“We need to talk,” your ex says next. “Come outside with me.”
He grabs your arm, and then a hand wraps around yours. You turn to see Sunmi standing there, glaring at your ex. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she asks.
“Y/N and I need to have a chat outside,” your ex sighs, being very dismissive.
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Sunmi insists. “Honey, do you want to go with him?”
You quickly shake your head, moving closer to your friend for safety.
“She doesn’t know what she wants,” your ex rolls his eyes, tightening his grip on your arm to the point where it almost hurts.
“We’re going to the bathroom,” Sunmi insists, somehow successfully tugging you away from your ex. 
“Run away, but I’ll be right here to talk to her when you’re done.”
It feels like a blur as Sunmi races you to the woman’s washroom. “Y/N,” she helps you to the sink, looking at your face. “Are you okay?”
“I-”
Sunmi pulls you to her chest, hugging you deeply. “We’re going to sort this out,” she promises.
“How?” You feel like crying. All the emotions come flooding back, the fear, the helplessness-
“We’re going to call Seungcheol.”
“What?” You’re in shock. “We can’t do that!”
“We can, and we will. Men like your ex only respond to other men. We’re calling him. Give me your phone.”
Reluctantly, you hand Sunmi your cell, turning on the sink to splash your arms with cold water.
“Hi, Seungcheol?” There’s a pause. “No, this is Sunmi. I’m out with y/n, we’re at a bar on Elm and fifth street, her ex just showed up- okay, okay, yeah, we’re in the bathroom in the back.”
She hangs up and you look to her for an explanation.
Your friend lets out a sigh. “As soon as I said your ex was here, Seungcheol said to give him five minutes. I’m going to keep you here and he’ll come get us, okay?”
You nod. “I’m sorry to ruin your birthday.”
“Honey, you’re not ruining anything,” she assures you, pulling you in for another hug. 
You hold back tears while you wait with Sunmi, and in no time at all, there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Seungcheol pokes his head in, and you see his expression drop when he sees you.
“What happened?” he growls, coming to join you.
“Her ex was trying to drag her outside-” Sunmi tries to explain.
“He touched you?” Seungcheol asks, anger laced in his words.
You nod, pointing to your forearm. 
“Grabbed is more like it,” Sunmi breathes.
“Okay,” Seungcheol nods. “Okay, I’ll get you out of here. Just hold onto me and we’ll get out of here.”
You nod again, allowing Seungcheol to gently take your hand. He guides you out of the bathroom, and you huddle close to his side as he walks you through the bar- you almost think things will go smoothly when your ex steps in front of you.
“Who’s this, you’re new boyfriend?” he asks, venom dripping from his words.
Seungcheol stops in his tracks. “So you must be the dip shit ex.”
“Say that again, asshole,” your ex growls, eyes narrowing.
“You must be-” Seungcheol broadens his shoulders, “the dip shit ex.”
Your ex releases a laugh, and then he’s taking a swing. It feels slow and fast at the same time, Sunmi tears you away from Seungcheol, who dodges the punch easily, only to land a blow to your ex’s stomach-
“Y/N! Sunmi!” Mingyu’s voice appears out of nowhere, and suddenly two strong arms are wrapping around you and your friend. “Outside!”
Mingyu keeps you close as he gets you and Sunmi out of the bar while a commotion ensues in your wake. Four motorcycles are pulled up on the curb. You recognize Vernon, and there’s another man you’ve never seen before.
“Cheol’s starting shit,” Mingyu tells his friends quickly.
“We heard your ex was here?” Vernon offers, giving you a sympathetic look.
“He threw a swing at Cheol when I got inside,” Mingyu tries to explain. “Y/N, we’re going to get you out of here, Wonwoo pass me the spare helmet from the saddlebag.”
“What about Seungcheol?” you ask, watching the men fuss.
“He can take care of himself,” Mingyu assures you, helping you put on the helmet.
“Cheol will meet us at our place,” the new man, Wonwoo, says. “When he gets hot like this, he doesn’t drive very safely.”
“Trust us,” Mingyu pleads. “We just gotta get you out of here, your ex made the first swing, and nothing good can come from this now.”
You turn to Sunmi and she squeezes your hand. “It’s okay, get out of here. I’ll text you what happens.”
You can’t even think as Mingyu gets onto his bike and you awkwardly take the seat behind him. You can’t comprehend how things happened the way they did- how fast the altercation had been before your ex had taken a go at Seungcheol.
As you leave the bar, heart thundering in your chest, it’s the most you can do to try to slow your breathing, your body still carrying the trauma that you’d endured with your ex, the wound you’d thought was healed now torn open.
Tumblr media
Ten:
“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as Mingyu covers you with a large fluffy blanket on his couch. “I mean- you just said your girlfriend is four months pregnant and sleeping in the other room-”
“It’s fine,” Mingyu assures you.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You’d found your ability to speak again once you felt safe and in Mingyu’s apartment, and now, you can’t help the anxiety bubbling inside of you. You feel like a burden- and it’s an all too familiar feeling from your time with your ex.
“You didn’t ruin it, we were almost done anyways,” Wonwoo notes. 
“Are you sure?” 
“Y/N, deep breaths,” Mingyu tells you, sitting on the couch next to you, offering your calf a reassuring squeeze.
“Is Cheol going to be okay?” you ask.
“He’s going to be fine, that man has never lost a fight,” Mingyu explains, smiling softly.
In the distance, you hear an engine revving, and Wonwoo sighs. “There he is.”
Not even five minutes later, Seungcheol is practically bursting through the door. His eyes find you on the couch, and you’re quick to stand, allowing him to envelop you in a hug. His heart is racing in his chest, he’s clearly panicked, and when he pulls away, he looks down at you with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?” he questions, cupping your face as if checking you for injury.
“I’m okay, are you okay?” you retort.
“Just a few bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 
You find yourself laughing, and as you laugh, your eyes well up with tears. Now that he’s here, you finally feel like you can take a deep breath, and he’s quick to tug you back to his chest as you cry.
“I’m going to give you a moment, then I’m going to take you home,” he tells you, hand smoothing up and down your back.
You stay in his arms until you feel a bit better, and when you pull away, Mingyu is offering you a tissue. You clean yourself up, say your goodbyes, then Seungcheol walks you out with the spare helmet in hand.
He doesn’t say anything on the way down, but at the bike, he hands you his fullface. “Want you protected,” he tells you, grabbing the bucket helmet from your grasp.
You nod, putting on the helmet and allowing him to help you fasten it up. 
You’re quiet as you both get onto the bike, and Seungcheol adjusts your hand to his hip, squeezing gently. 
The bike roars to life and you take off.
It’s a different feeling to be on a motorcycle while still a little drunk, and you find yourself throwing your head back to look up at the night sky. 
You’ve seen the stars before, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, it feels like you're experiencing them for the first time. 
You lose track of time doing this, and the ride is done sooner than you’d like when he pulls up to your building. “Come on, baby,” he says softly, helping you take off your helmet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
He holds your hand, helping you with your keys to get into the apartment complex. The elevator ride is quiet, but his hand is a reassuring constant, warm and large wrapped around your own.
He’s never been to your place, and you feel a little self conscious as you open up your door. It’s a modest apartment, one bedroom- there’s really nothing to be insecure about, but you think maybe your anxiety from the bar incident is just making you a little crazy.
“How about you sit down, and I’ll get you some water?” he suggests, helping you to the couch.
You kick off your high heels, curling up on the cushions while Seungcheol putters around your kitchen. He already looks like he belongs here, and for a brief moment, you can forget about your ex.
Seungcheol rejoins you on the couch, handing you the cup. “Here.” 
“Thank you.”
You sip on your water, trying to breathe properly again.
Seungcheol gives you the space to unwind. He doesn’t pester you with questions about the altercation with your ex at the bar, and you’re grateful for it.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks finally.
You shake your head, your eyes dropping to his hands. “You’re hurt though.”
“Just bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 
“There’s blood,” you insist. “I’ll-”
“Tell me where your first aid kit is and I’ll grab it.” 
You direct him to the cupboard in your bathroom, and he returns with it, setting the case onto your coffee table. 
“How’s your shoulder?” you ask as you take out the tools you’ll need.
“Almost better, I heal fast,” he says softly.
It feels good to focus on his wounds rather than your own, and you gently clean the scrapes on his hand. His right fist is pretty badly bruised, and you do your best to treat it. Then you begin to slowly wrap his knuckles, taking your time. Two wraps around his wrist, diagonal across the top to his pinky, under the hand, to the pointer, diagonal- 
It’s a nice repetition of motions, and when you’re all done, you lift his hand to your lips, gently pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “All better.”
You look up at Seungcheol, and he stares back.
Then, he slowly moves in, carefully watching your expression. He stops just an inch from your lips, and you can feel his breath on your face. He’s waiting for you to make the final move, for you to be the one with control.
With one last look at your beautiful, dark protector, you close the distance.
It’s a soft kiss, not the kind of first kiss you’ve ever had before. Seungcheol doesn’t immediately try to dominate you like men in the past have, he lets you set the pace. You lean in closer, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you deepen the kiss. 
Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you, and it’s a somewhat awkward position on the couch like this, so he simply pulls you onto his lap. 
You lose yourself in the kiss, allowing all your anxiety to dissipate while you enjoy the safety Seungcheol provides. 
After a while, Seungcheol pulls away, and you’re both breathing heavily. 
“How… how do your knuckles feel?” you ask.
He laughs, looking down at his hands. “I might black out my fingers when this is all healed,” he admits. “I get into too many barfights. My grandma used to say it was the Leo in me.”
“The Leo in you?” you repeat, heard thumping wildly in your chest.
“Yeah, I uh…” he lets out a soft chuckle, “I didn’t wanna pressure you to come out or anything after I heard you were at a friend’s birthday party, but it’s sort of my birthday today.”
You’re frozen for a moment. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re a Leo,” you say again.
“Uh huh. You’re not about to tell me some weird zodiac rule about our signs not being compatible, are you?”
“No, it’s not that.” You take a deep breath. Just a short time ago, you’d decided not to tell him about the Elk tattoo meaning, and now here you are, about to tell him everything. 
You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the bar situation, or the slight tipsyness, but you think fuck it, if he could tell you about his tarot loving grandmother, you can tell him about this.
“A few months ago, I did a reading,” you begin to explain.
“A tarot reading,” he clarifies.
“Yeah. And I asked my guides to show me a spirit animal card that would be a tattoo on the person I’m supposed to be with. The card came up as an Elk- and before you tell me it’s a very common tattoo, I know it is, which is why I asked for further clarification with them telling me the zodiac of this person too-”
“And they said Leo,” he breathes.
You nod. “Then, when I met you, the Elk lined up, but I still wasn’t sure, so I did another reading on us, and the Two of Cups came out, it’s a love card. So with those two cards, and now the fact that you’re a Leo-”
“Is this your way of telling me you think I’m your soulmate?” Seungcheol grins.
“God, I should have guessed you’re a fucking Leo,” you roll your eyes.
“Don’t be rude,” he tuts, gently pinching your hip. “If it’s any consolation, my grandmother always told me I’d end up with someone in the medical field, and you’re an ER nurse.”
“She really said that?” you ask.
“Uh huh.” Seungcheol’s gaze dips to your lips then back up again. “I wonder if she saw this future.”
Your heart melts. After your last relationship, where the lovebombing came on fast, you’d promised yourself not to get burned by that sort of thing again- but here you are, falling for Seungcheol way quicker than you ever have with anyone else in the past.
Even so, something about this feels so right.
You let out a breath. “One time with the Elk may have been coincidence. Two times with the Two of Cups card was a little odd. But three times with your Leo Zodiac-”
“I guess the question is, do you believe in fate?” Seungcheol moves closer.
“I think you know that I do,” you laugh.
Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your hips, and he doesn’t say anything else as he brings his mouth to yours.
You kiss him eagerly, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chests together. His tongue glides against your own and it feels like magic- there’s a bulge growing in his pants, and you can’t help but begin to grind down against him.
Seungcheol releases a small groan and it’s music to your ears, prompting you to apply more pressure to his cock when you wriggle against him.
With a sigh, Seungcheol pulls away. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’ve been drinking and I don’t want to take advantage tonight-”
“I swear that whole situation with my ex sobered me up,” you admit. “Besides, maybe I want to give you a birthday present.” 
“A birthday present?” he repeats with a chuckle.
You nod. “Cheol, I haven’t even kissed anyone in months- I’m already practically drenched from making out, you won’t make me wait even longer, will you?”
He studies your face, and you can see the moment he folds. “We can do this, but at any point if I think you look drunk, we have to stop. I don’t want you to regret this being our first time.”
“I could never regret this,” you promise, leaning in to press your lips to his throat.
Seungcheol throws his head back, his fingers digging into your hips again. The low moan he releases tells you that he has a sensitive neck, and you enjoy simply teasing him for a minute while you mentally prep yourself for what’s to come next.
You do want to move on, and this is one of those steps.
You’re not afraid of it. You had been frightened about intimacy with someone new, but Seungcheol makes you feel more safe than you’ve ever felt in your life.
You want this. 
You shift a little on Seungcheol’s lap, reaching down to cup his cock with your palm. 
Seungcheol swallows thickly, his hands smoothing up and down your hips. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”
“It’s your birthday,” you point out. “And you took care of me at the bar, I think it’s my turn to show some appreciation.”
He doesn’t argue with you, and you can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He lets out a deep breath. “I know it’s early,” he says, “but… if we do this, I don’t want any confusion. I want you to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours.”
“Honestly? I’ve been yours since practically the moment I saw you take your shirt off so I could clean your shoulder wound.”
Seungcheol releases a chuckle. “Really?”
“Uh huh, you make me fucking feral.”
He lets out a groan of appreciation. “It’s been hard to control myself too. That day at the studio, when you touched my back tattoo- I was so close to breaking. Wanted to throw you onto my desk and make you feel good.”
You imagine what that would have been like, and it makes you moan. “Why didn’t you?”
“I could tell you had a past, and I didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits. “I’ve been… trying to be a good boy.”
Your bad boy trying to be good to make you comfortable. You really hit the jackpot with Seungcheol.
“Cheol, I’ve told you I have a thing for bad boys,” you tease.
“So maybe I should take control right now,” he suggests with a grin.
“Let me suck you off, and then you can take control,” you tell him, pulling away. “I’m going to get on my knees now.”
Seungcheol watches you slip onto the floor infront of him, and your hands find his belt. You try to focus on your task of getting his pants off, but you enjoy sneaking glances at him, seeing his pretty face as he tries to keep composure.
He lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down, and his cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, hard and already leaking.
He’s a decent size, somewhere between six and seven inches, and his cock is as girthy as the rest of him. You lick your lips, grabbing the base so you can adjust him toward your mouth as you lean in.
“No teasing,” Seungcheol warns, voice softening when he says, “please.” 
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Liar,” he laughs, reaching out to stroke your head.
You slip the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue. 
“And that’s the teasing I was talking about,” Seungcheol muses. “Feels good though.”
You sink further down onto him, beginning to suck as you move up and down.
“Fuck, that feels even better,” he groans.
When you were with your ex, blow jobs were an expectation, and because of that, you never really enjoyed them. There’s something powerful about doing this of your own volition, about making the conscious choice to pleasure Seungcheol.
You close your eyes, getting lost in the motion of providing this for him. Hallowing your cheeks, you suck hard when you’re near the tip, and Seungcheol groans loudly, shifting further down on the couch so you’re not bent over him in such an awkward position.
“You’re good at that, baby,” Seungcheol says. “But there’s only one birthday present I’d enjoy more than this.”
You let out a “hmm?” sound, an inquiry.
“When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
Your pussy throbs at his words, and you increase your speed on his cock, letting out a moan of appreciation. 
“Yeah? You like that?” he asks. “Say the word, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”
You pull off of him, your hand smoothing up from base to tip to pump him while you address your beautiful dark protector. “I just want to make you feel good a little while longer.”
His expression softens. “Making me feel really good.”
You grin, returning to your task. 
Seungcheol’s hand is gentle in your hair. He caresses you while you suck him off, never applying pressure or trying to get you to deep throat him. It’s an ever constant, soft touch, and you’re shocked at how much of a gentleman this heavily tattooed, bar fighting, Leo can be. 
“Baby?” His voice draws you from your thoughts. “I know I said you could say the word and be done, but- this feels too good, and I don’t wanna bust the moment I begin to fuck you.”
You pull off of his cock with a pop, smiling up at him. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He lets out a shaky breath and grins. “Where’s your bedroom, gorgeous?”
“Right there.” You point at the door adjacent to the living room.
“Come on, baby, it’s my turn to take care of you.” He helps you to your feet, pulling his pants back up, and you’re shocked when he throws you over his uninjured shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom while you erupt in a fit of butterfly fueled giggles.
Seungcheol lays you softly onto your bed, staring down at you. He takes in your silky shirt and your dress pants, you like to be more classy when you go out, to keep up with your reputation as a nurse.
The two of you are very different people. He’s black ripped jeans, plain tshirts and tattoos. And you’re classy outfits, scrubs, and a healer’s touch. Somehow, even with these differences, the two of you work. Like Yin and Yang, complementary forces, light and dark.
“Can I take these off for you?” he asks, tugging at your pant leg.
You nod, watching the way he begins to undo your button and zipper. He’s slow with his motions, precise. It’s not a rush to get you naked, it’s an enjoyed exploration, and you love the way his eyes glow when you lift your hips to allow him to pull the fabric off your lower half.
“You’re so pretty,” Seungcheol muses.
“Yeah?”
“That day you were in my shop with your friend, doing a consult with Vernon- I was trying to act like I was watching my newest apprentice work, but… I kept looking at you. And then, outside the bar, when you showed up again-” Seungcheol shakes his head, his hand smoothing along your leg gently. “Baby, you’re going to turn me into a believer.”
“Invisible string theory, perhaps,” you grin.
Seungcheol chuckles. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
He takes off his own shirt, and you watch the way his muscles move under his skin. He’s littered in tattoos, patchwork on his arms and chest. There must be a hundred small to medium sized tattoos, and you want to know the story behind each and every one.
But there’s a time and a place for that, and right now, you’re eager for something else.
Seungcheol gets on top of you, and you immediately thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, pulling his lips to your own.
Your free hand explores his muscular shoulders, careful of the bandage still on his bar wound, and you’re practically tingling with how attracted you are to this man.
He kisses you deeply, cupping your face while his other hand braces him to the bed over top of you.
Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, and he grinds against your panty clad core.
The pressure on your clit has you moaning, and Seungcheol responds by kissing down your throat. He licks at your collarbone, and then his hand moves from your cheek to your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asks.
“Uh huh, there’s a tie at the back.”
Seungcheol pulls off of you, and in one motion, he flips you onto your stomach. His warm hand smooths over your shoulder, toying with the tie there.
You hold your breath in anticipation as he begins to undo the corset style back of your slinky top. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck that makes your body erupt in goosebumps. 
You enjoy the way he takes his time with your shirt, and he slowly helps you slip it off. You’re laying flat on his bed, your tits pressed to the comforter, while Seungcheol explores your back with his hands. He traces the curvature of your sides, pressing kisses along your spine. Soft curls tickle your skin, and you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat at how good this feels.
Seungcheol flips you over again, and his gaze dips to your exposed breasts. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, gently groping your chest, his thumb grazing over your nipple. You watch him swallow thickly, and then he’s leaning over, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth while you tangle your fingers in his curls again.
With his mouth on your breast, his free hand slips down your body, and he tugs your panties down just enough for him to access your core.
Two digits rub between your pussy lips and you feel him smile against your nipple. “You weren’t lying about being wet, baby.”
“Would never lie to you,” you breathe out shakily.
“No?” He circles your clit and you moan loudly. 
“Never,” you repeat, pushing your hips up toward his hand, needing more friction.
Seungcheol rewards you by slipping both of his digits into your wet core, pressing his palm to your clit as he begins to finger fuck you. He sucks on your breast while he does this, and you’re lost in the sensations he provides.
“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper when his teeth graze your nipple, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers.
“Wanna make you cum,” Seungcheol says, pulling away from your breast to look down at you.
“Then make me cum,” you respond, nodding at him.
Seungcheol presses one last kiss to your lips and then he shifts down the bed, pulling his fingers from your core. He gets onto his knees at the foot of the mattress, dragging you toward himself and pulling your panties off.
He spreads your thighs. “So pretty,” he muses. “Everything about you is so fucking pretty.”
Your skin heats, it can be hard to take a compliment, but something tells you that Seungcheol will get you used to this kind of praise.
He leans forward, eyes meeting yours as he presses a kiss to your clit. You jolt at the small contact, releasing a shaky breath.
No one has eaten you out in months, and your core is already throbbing with anticipation. 
“Gonna take care of you,” Seungcheol promises, and you know that this promise extends far past the sexual setting you’re in right now.
He moves forward again, capturing your clit in his mouth while his digits easily slip into your pussy again.
You throw your head back, enjoying the sensation of him worshiping your cunt. He’s gentle with his motions at first, kitten licking your sensitive bud. You know he’s getting used to your sounds, figuring out what pressure works, what you enjoy, whether thats sucking, or more gentle stimulus.
“Feels good,” you tell him. “Like the way you crook your fingers.”
He responds by applying more pressure to the ‘come hither’ motion he’s making, and you release a whine at how good it feels.
“Just like that,” you whimper.
He sucks your clit harder too, and you moan louder, hips bucking toward his face.
Seungcheol’s free hand finds your lower abdomen and he pins you to his bed, keeping you still while he works on your pussy.
You can feel your walls clenching around him, and Seungcheol releases a groan of pleasure. It adds to your own feeling of euphoria that clearly he’s enjoying this. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’s usually a giver, and the fact that he doesn’t see this as a chore has you able to enjoy it fully, unlike certain past experiences where men had to be begged into eating you out.
Sex with Seungcheol - even foreplay like this - feels so natural. You’re not as in your head as you usually are, with his nonverbal communications and moans, you can be certain he’s enjoying this as much as you are, and it gives you the confidence to give yourself over completely to the pleasure.
Sex should always be like this, you realize.
There’s no pressure, no worrisome thoughts, it’s just two souls connecting physically in a way that’s mutually beneficial. 
Having not been eaten out in a long time, it’s not surprising that you’re extremely sensitive, and Seungcheol works you all the way to the edge before you can even comprehend what’s happening.
“Cheol-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair, “I’m gonna-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, he sucks harshly on your clit, and your words become moans as your orgasm surges through you.
His hand on your abdomen keeps you steady as he works you through your high, sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking on his broad shoulders.
Seungcheol pulls away, and you open your eyes to watch him wipe the back of his mouth, licking his fingers clean. 
“Still want this?” he asks, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his jeans.
“More than anything,” you smile.
A moment later, Seungcheol is as naked as you are, and he gets between your thighs again, lips returning to your own. He doesn’t immediately slip his cock into you, instead, he grinds against your core, teasing your sensitive clit and driving you wild.
You kiss him eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair and groping his muscular shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him despite the need growing inside of you.
You’re reminded again that there’s no rush.
You can take pleasure in this without feeling like you need to be getting fucked to be worth something.
You’re a hundred percent sure that if you’d told Seungcheol you’re not ready for sex, he would have stopped, cuddled you, and not taken it personally. There’s this feeling that Seungcheol is going to be around for a long time- and as crazy as it is with how short of a time you’ve known him, you know that your connection runs deeper than your physical attraction.
Seungcheol shifts slightly, grabbing at his cock. You bite at your lip while you wait for him to line it up with your core, and you break your kiss, panting. Your eyes meet as he slips the head of his length into your wet hole, and you both groan at the feeling.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, sinking in inch by inch. “You feel so fucking good.” 
“You feel better,” you retort, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his nose.
“Impossible,” he grins, burying his face in your throat as he begins to fuck you.
You claw at his shoulders, crying out with each thrust. He fills you so well- he has probably one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever taken, and the way he stretches you out is like heaven, like he was made to be in your pussy.
The sounds he’s making are unlike any other pleasured noises you’ve ever heard.
Nothing has ever felt this right.
Seungcheol’s uninjured hand finds your own, and he laces your fingers, squeezing you reassuringly as he fucks you harder, his speed increasing.
His lips are hot on your neck, and it feels delightful. You love just laying back and taking everything he’s giving you. He’s so big, like a warm, weighted blanket covering your form.
Your toes are already curling at how deep he’s hitting, and your thighs shake desperately around his hips.
“Cheol-”
“Yes, baby?” he asks.
“You just- fuck, this feels so good-”
“You deserve to feel good,” Seungcheol tells you. “You work so hard for others, I’m lucky I get to be the guy working for you.”
Your heart swells at his words. Past boyfriends’ haven't ever truly appreciated how hard it is to be an emergency room nurse. You spend your whole shift taking care of others, and that high pressure, intense mentality bleeds into your personal life. It's a sweet relief to be the one on the receiving end, to relax and know that you can fully give yourself up to the pleasure and desire you feel, without feeling obligated to return this favour with future sexual gratifications.
Seungcheol’s lips meet your own, and you get lost in him, moaning desperately as he works your pussy open.
His thrusts slow, and he stays completely still inside of you for a moment, then pulls away.
“Can you shift onto your side for me?” he asks. “One leg straight on the bed, the other thigh pulled closer to your chest.”
It’s a position you’ve never tried before, but you trust Seungcheol, and you’re quick to adjust. You lay half on your side, one leg stretched between his knees while you bring your other toward your breasts. 
Seungcheol’s warm hand finds your thigh, and he helps bend you, his free hand guiding his cock to your pussy again.
When he pushes in this time, it feels even deeper, and you let out a squeak at the stimulation.
“You like that?” he asks, hand moving from your thigh to your breast, where he gently pinches your nipple.
“So deep- I feel so full-” you whimper.
Seungcheol only grins, and he’s an absolute vision in this position. He’s practically on his knees, and his chest is all exposed and gorgeous. His tattoos are beautiful as he massages your breast with one hand, the other on your thigh, anchoring you while he fucks you.
You’re not sure if it’s the sideways angle or what, but he’s hitting a spot that has your toes curling tight, your pussy clenching.
“Fuck-” you moan.
“Shit, I should have asked this before-” Seungcheol says, voice shaky, “do I need to pull out or-”
“I’m on birth control,” you assure him. “You can cum inside.”
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, rutting into you even harder. 
“Kinda want you to fill me up,” you admit.
“You’re way too sexy, baby, holy shit-”
You can tell your words are doing a number on him, and it makes your core throb with pleasure.
“Can you rub your clit?” he asks. “Want you to cum with me. I hate cumming alone.”
“Yeah.” Your hand slips between your thighs awkwardly, and Seungcheol decreases his pace  to give you a chance to catch up to his pleasure.
His movements are slower now, more precise, his cock hitting that spot deep inside that has you crying out again.
“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you. “My pretty little nurse.”
For some reason, his words just do something to you, and your core throbs even harder. “Cheol, I’m close-” you warn him,
“Tell me when you’re almost there and I’ll go fast again.”
You focus on the sight of him, on the tattoos and muscles, his strong features and the pretty dark curls. His small groans egg you on, and you’re at the edge in no time, giving him a nod. “Okay-”
He releases your breast, using both hands on your leg now to steady himself as he fucks you stupid, your whole body jolting with each motion. You let out a desperate whine, rubbing your clit even harder-
“Fuck, fuck-” Seungcheol groans. “Feels so fucking good- fuck, cum with me, baby, cum with me-”
You moan in response, your core clenching down desperately on his cock as your orgasm explodes through you. Your whole body shivers with endorphins, heart racing in your chest.
Seungcheol throws his head back, releasing an extremely sexy groan as he cums with you, fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts slowly and deeply, working you through your orgasms.
You rub your clit until you can’t take it anymore, tearing your hand away.
Seungcheol slumps forward, stilling completely, and you greedily grab at his shoulders. He collapses half on top of you, and you thread your fingers through his hair, panting hard.
His forehead rests against your own, and you both just try to catch your breath.
You’ve never felt connected to someone the way you feel connected to Seungcheol in this moment. It’s all consuming, and it makes you emotional as you come down from your high.
Seungcheol must notice your shaky breathing because he opens his eyes and looks at you. “You okay, baby?”
“I’m just-” you swallow thickly. “I don’t know-”
You can’t voice it, can’t voice the way you’re feeling. There are so many thoughts swirling around in your head, so many past traumas rearing their ugly faces and making you second guess yourself-
“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Seungcheol breathes, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And just like that, he can clear all of your anxieties, as if he was able to read your mind and see your fears. 
You’ve always been drawn to bad boys, to men who you envision as some kind of dark protector- and now, you think you’ve finally found the right one. 
Tumblr media
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this fic is written in conjunction to my other story 'crossroads,' read more about Mingyu, Wonwoo, and their y/n here
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. Seungcheol’s thrusts get faster, and he rests his forehead against your spine while he rails you into the blow up mattress at a campsite where anyone could walk by. His baby fever is at an all time high, and he’s fucking you like a man who means every word he’s saying.
cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, sex in a campsite, exhibitionism, staying quiet during sex, pussy eating, fingering, large/muscled/tattooed Cheol, quickie, baby fever, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise, breast worship, etc…
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 180
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
Tumblr media
 bonus
It’s been just under a year since you started dating Seungcheol, and through him, you’ve found a family. Many trivia nights, and bowling excursions have been spent with Seungcheol, his friends, Sunmi, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan. Once you’d met everyone face to face, it had been much easier to track Sunmi’s convoluted explanation of her connection to the tattoo parlour, and it’s been a joy to become so close with so many wonderful people.
Sunmi’s sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, is cousins with Mingyu and Wonwoo’s girlfriend, who’d had a beautiful baby girl this past January, and now, it’s the baby’s first summer. You don’t mind the shift of hang outs to be more baby inclusive, and now, you find yourself at a campsite with the whole gang.
While everyone is quite enamored with the little baby girl, Haesoo, no one is more obsessed than your boyfriend Seungcheol. You always get to see him coddling her while out and about as a group, but in the past three days at this campsite, you’ve contracted a serious case of baby fever.
Tumblr media
☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.6k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list
Tumblr media
general taglist
@gotshinct - @runahways - @milkteade - @mocha000
@anothershorthuman - @notbeforelong - @darthlunaa
@chogiwapadada - @meowniee - @pandabur666
@just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono - @lovelyhan -
@grilledbananas - @quennlenn - @zezedoesshit
@unlikelysublimekryptonite - @wonwoothinker
svt taglist
@candidupped - @cheolussy - @aaniag - @imprettyweird
@xcynthiaaa
thanks to those who interacted with the teaser
@sourkimchi - @honeyhotteoks - @hearts4yawnzzn - @blspphr3
@amazinggraxia - @biancaness - @iightsung - @luvseungcheol
@9900z - @clownprincehoeshi - @heydaystay - @gimmematchas
@bouclesdefeu - @if-i-like-i-reblog - @gyuguys - 38 @sammylvr
@xcherrywaltz - @bobathi - @simpxxstan - @changbinlov3r
@jeonghansbf - @amultislifeforme - @wonyderful - @markgeollie
@ibelieve-icanfly - @cherrycheoliee
2K notes · View notes
misserabella · 11 months
Text
what girls can do
abby anderson x fem masc! reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary; abby wasn’t gay… right?
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, abby being scared of liking girls, reader is masc presenting!!!, reader fucking another girl (she has a reputation) and abby hears, switch reader and abby, masturbation (abby), kissing, make out, tension and touching in the showers, teasing, praising, praise kink, use of good girl, oral (abby and r receiving), boob and nipple play, hair pulling, hickeys, abby’s first time with a girl…
abby anderson wasn’t gay.
she had liked owen for as long as she could remember. she had even dated him. and sure, the sex was…, boring, to say the least. but that didn’t mean she was gay.
but then…, why couldn’t she look away?
you were working out at the WLF’s gym, white wife beater and grey sweats, hair up on a low bun as you grunted at the effort of lifting weights.
your thighs were spread, shirt slightly sliding up your stomach as you bench pressed. abby’s eyes lingered on the soft plush skin, wanting, no, needing to see more.
she bit down on her bottom lip, too out of focus of her own rutine. she was staring.
even more when she noticed angela passing by. she stopped to talk to you with a flirty smile, which you returned, smirk on your lips. abby heard rumors. rumors about how good you were in bed. how good you could make a girl feel. how they always came back to you for more… angela was an example of it. you had fucked her just a mere couple of days ago and there she was, looking for more.
abby watched as one of your hands landed on the back of her thigh, since she was standing up and you sat on the bench. she wondered how it would feel like. skin against skin. how your eyes would feel like on her.
she shook her head. yeah, no. she was just curious. pure healthy curiosity. she couldn’t imagine herself fucking you, or imagine you in between her legs, tongue out, mouth and chin dripping in…
she huffed, getting up from the machine she was working on and picking up his towel and bottle of water. she was not on the right head space to work out.
her way to her and manny’s room was not long, plopping herself on her bed with a huff and taking from her nightstand a book she had been meaning to finish in hopes to avoid thinking about you at all, which lately seemed to be the only thing she could think about.
that was until she recognized your voice though the other side of the wall, and angela’s, as you entered on your room, which stood next to abby’s.
the walls were so thin she could even heard the first contact of your lips against hers, the lewd smacking and the wet sounds of your tongue sliding against hers.
“you missed me, huh? needy girl…” you voice sounded muffled, but still high enough for her to hear, along with angela’s moan.
abby tried her best to ignore it, focusing on the ink letters of her book. but it was impossible to simply ignore you.
“you’re so wet…” abby’s cheeks flushed, feeling her cunt throb at your words. “you’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you? of course you have…” abby closed her eyes, trying to recompose herself. she should probably leave her room and go somewhere else, maybe pound on your door and ask you to keep it down. but somehow, she couldn’t move. she was glued down to her sheets.
suddenly, angela was moaning, and you were grunting. “that’s it. taking my fingers so good, good girl.” abby’s throat dried up. holy fuck. her thighs clenched, and her heart was beating so fast…
“fuck.” she sighed, embarrassed of herself. she shouldn’t be listening to this. but you sounded so good… and she was getting so wet… why was she getting wet? she didn’t like girls!
she tried and think about owen and the times the two of them fucked. she always struggled to get wet, and now? her hand pushed inside her sweat shorts and into her panties, fingers sliding through her folds.
she was fucking soaked.
“holy shit.” she muttered, her index finger touching her throbbing clit, her mind filling up with images of you. of your eyes, your arms, your muscles, your thighs, your chest, your mouth, your hands, your fingers…
she had to bit down on her lip to not let out a pathetic moan.
“look at you. what a dirty girl, i bet you’ve been thinking about this. about my fingers in your pussy, huh?” abby then pushed her ring finger inside her tight warmwalls, a gasp leaving her lips as she followed your voice, imagined it was you who touched her.
she was supposed to be embarrassed, touching herself to you while you fucked another girl on the next room… it was sickening. but she couldn’t stop. it felt good. better than it had ever felt before. and she hadn’t come in so long...
“that’s it. doing so good for me. want my cock, baby? want me to fuck you dumb?” she added another finger in, crooking them against her g spot as her other hand came up her shirt to squeeze one of her breasts, pinching her nipple. she nodded, imagining it was her you were talking to, you were touching and fucking. “you’re gonna cum? gonna cream my fingers?” she could hear angela’s moans, how they became more repetitive, gasps and huffs leaving her lips.
abby was getting closer, her thighs shaking. little low grunts we’re leaving her throat.
“yeah, go ahead. let me see it drip.”
she’d never come so hard before, vision turning white, breath leaving her lungs, mouth falling ajar in a silent scream as cum coated her fingers. her free hand, the one that had been playing with her chest gripped the sheets as her back arched. “fuckfuckfuckfuck…” she fucked herself through it, stilling her fingers inside her cunt once she had fully come down from it. she took a deep breath, her fuzzy brain finally reconnecting to reality. she realized what she had done, and quickly pulled her hand out of her pants, cheeks flushed and eyes unable to stare at the cum making her fingers shine. she hurriedly got up from her bed, quickly taking a change of clothes as she heard still muffled moans and voices. just as she rushed towards her door manny came in, and it only made her flush even more. holy fuck, she could have gotten caught.
“hey abs, wanna-“ before she could finish she was getting out the room. “okay… tremendas prisas…”
she went to the community bathrooms and took a towel, getting rid of her clothes to get into the showers. she slightly cringed at the feeling of her slick making her cunt stick to her panties. the water was just what she needed to calm down, splashing it all over her face.
she wasn’t gay… right? maybe she had just slipped. she was really pent up. maybe it all clouded her mind.
and then, there you were, opening the door and getting inside the bathrooms. abby’s eyes widened as she watched you slowly take off your clothes. you started by your wife beater, your hands gripping the rim to pull it up your toned stomach and chest, one of which hands you had just used to touch someone. abby wondered if you had already cleaned the cum out of your fingers, probably used your mouth and sucked it clean. her cunt throbbed at the thought. even more when she took in the sight of your exposed chest, beautiful perky nipples hardening due to the cold air hitting your newly exposed skin. you shimmied your grey sweats down your strong thighs, staying on your boxers as you made your way to grab a towel. abby’s eyes trained on your ass, even more on the wet patch on your crotch, she wondered if you were as wet as she had been thanks to your voice, if angela had touched you. had she made you feel good? had she made you cum? had she eaten you out? how would you taste? how would you sound? how…
she tightly squeezed her eyes shut, dipping her head back under the water.
“hey.” you said as you got beside her in the showers, opening the water. abby had to control herself to not look at you.
“hey.” she answered.
abby was cute. hell, she was beautiful. with blonde hair, broad shoulders, thick thighs and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. you’d lie if you didn’t think she was attractive. but she was straight. sadly enough. so you two had a pretty standard relationship. that being said… why was she blushing? maybe due to all the steam inside or here?
you discretely looked at her.
your eyes trailed down her toned arms to her little breasts, strong thighs and her plump ass. your tongue darted out from your mouth to wet your lips. she was hot. really hot. owen was, or had been, a lucky motherfucker.
abby caught you staring and her whole face seemed to burst in flames, but of course, you caught her too as you soaped up your body, slippery hands over your chest. you two stared at each other, and suddenly, the room was heavy.
you smirked as you watched her eyes follow your touch over your boobs. maybe she wasn’t that straight, you thought, but then she was looking away.
“abby?” you called for her, and her whole body seemed to tense up. bottom lip in between her teeth.
“yeah?” she inquired, and you leaned against the tiles of the bathroom, looking at her.
“you can look.” you said, softly. you could sense it, the nervousness, the inquiries. you could almost read her anxious and confused mind, could see yourself on her.
abby’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, her wet unbraided hair falling over her face before she would slightly peek at you. she gulped at the sight. you were completely bare, soft skin in display for her hungry and curious eyes. and you were beautiful. she took everything in. the curve of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curls on your mound, your toned stomach and thighs…
you slowly walked closer, until you were caging her against the cold tiles, chest almost brushing hers.
“i thought you didn’t like girls.” you muttered, her blue eyes on yours.
“i don’t.” she said, and you scoffed, watching as she shivered when one of your hands took her hip. she was so soft…
you slowly leaned in, ‘till your breaths intertwined. abby looked down at your lips. what the hell was happening?
“are you sure?” you muttered, your lips brushing hers. she felt her heart beating faster inside her chest. “ ‘cause it seems like you wanna kiss me… do you wanna kiss me, abby?” you teased, fully pressing your chest against hers, making her groan. “i think you do…” your free hand came up her face to her chin, thumb pressing against her bottom lip. “why don’t you open up for me, hm?” she followed, her jaw falling and lips parting. “good girl.” you whispered against her before you’d close the distance, hearing her moan in your mouth, your tongue pushing inside her own. her hands came up to your shoulders, fingers gripping you as you lewdly and softly kissed her. for a moment it seemed like she was gonna push you away. she probably should’ve. but she didn’t. instead only pushing you closer, making you hum. your hand trailed down to her neck, where you left it, keeping her in place as you hungrily kissed her.
holy fuck. you were kissing abby anderson. you couldn’t remember for how long you’ve been dreaming about this. you’ve had a little crush on her for years.
abby should’ve feel weird about it, you’d just fucked a girl, put the same tongue that was on her mouth on angela’s, used the same hands that you were touching with to touch the brunette, but instead, she couldn’t just think about how fucking good it felt.
you pressed her against the wall. the hand on her hip going up to her chest, where you cupped one of her tits, kissing her harder. her body arched against you, and her hands found your hair, tugging.
she groaned when you pulled away, kissing the side of her neck.
“fuuck.” she sighed, feeling your index and thumb pinch her nipple.
“that’s it. you like it, hm? like it when i touch you like this?” she nodded, and you smirked. “shit. never thought you’d go for girls.” you incredulously said, to what she reacted.
suddenly she seemed to be lucid, pushing away from you.
“abby?” you inquired, but she was quickly taking her towel, draping it around herself and picking up her stuff. “abby!” you watched as she hurriedly left the bathrooms. her heart was on her throat. she thanked god her dorm was a few steps away from the bathrooms or else the whole WLF would have seen her running practically naked around the halls.
that afternoon abby locked herself on her room and didn’t even got out for dinner.
-
days passed by in which you hadn’t heard anything from abby. days in which the only thing she had done had been think about your time in the showers. in which she hadn’t gotten any sleep, feeling your touch all over her body, your kisses, your breath against her skin…
she could hear your voice, remember your teasing. she’d touched herself to it over and over again, facing the fact that yeah, she liked girls. she liked you.
that’s how she had ended up here, in front of your dorm’s door, knocking in the middle of the night. she was biting down on her bottom lip, hands sweaty and shaky and pupils blown. her cunt was aching and her heart was beating fast. way too fast.
she wanted it. she wanted to feel your touch again. she wanted you to kiss her again. to show her what pleasure really felt like. she wanted to know what fucking you felt like. would she moan like angela did? would you talk to her like you’ve talked to angela?
you opened the door, only a pair of boxers and a wife beater on. you seemed to had been still awake.
“abby?” you inquired, fully opening the door. “what are you-“ but before you could finish she was jumping at you, her warm hands cupping your cheeks to bring you in on a kiss. your eyes widened in surprise, still quickly closing when you felt her lips on yours. you hummed, stepping backwards and closing the door once the two of you were inside. you pushed her against it, her tongue inside your mouth, her hands on your hair, tugging as you took her by the waist. “what are you doing?” you pulled away, breathing on her lips with a smirk tugging from your own. instead of answering, she tried and kiss you again, but you didn’t let her, dodging her lips. “nuh-uh. speak.” abby groaned.
“isn’t it obvious?” she inquired, eyes on your lips. she wanted to taste them over and over and over again. she wanted to suffocate.
“i mean, i’m not complaining.” you said, crooking your head to the side. “don’t get me wrong. is just that the last time we kissed you ran away…” abby’s cheeks flushed. “so… what is it that you want, abby?” you inquired, your free hand coming up to push behind her ear a strand of her blonde hair. she shivered.
“i want you to kiss me.” she said, voice low and decisive.
“i can do that.” you said with a smirk before leaning in, pushing your lips against hers before your tongue would enter her mouth, wetly kissing her. you made her knees almost buckle. abby moaned against you, and you pulled her closer to you. your hands, which stood on her waist, crept under her shirt, feeling her abs. “is this alright?” you asked. you didn’t want her to get scared again. she nodded, her hands taking yours to guide them over her chest. “oh yeah?” you smirked. “you want me to touch you?” she nodded. “words.”
“yes. yes, please.” she gasped, and you tweaked her nipples, making her moan.
“fuck. you sound so good…” she sighed as your lips met her neck, crooking her head to give you more space. abby’s hand left your hair to get the rim of her shirt, pushing it over her head to leave her chest exposed. your mouth watered at the sight, a sight that you’ve missed the last couple of days. your kisses trailed down her neck to her chest and her boobs. her hands were back on your hair as your tongue darted out to lick at your nipples, one of your legs pushing in between her legs.
“shit.” she hissed, tugging on your hair. you hummed. “please touch me, please.” she begged, her hips rutting against your thigh.
“get on the bed.” you grunted, and you two quickly made your way to your bed. you thanked god you didn’t have roommates. abby’s thighs parted for you, your lips against hers. she moaned as you pushed down her legs her pajama pants and boxers. abby shivered when the cold air hit her wet folds, moaned when your fingers dipped in between her slicked lips. “fuck. you’re soaked.” you groaned. “you really want this, don’t you?” you teased her. “want me to fuck you? want me to make you feel good?” she nodded. your fingers met her clit, drawing little circles on it and hearing her moan, hips pushing against your touch. “that’s it. just what you needed, isn’t it? poor thing just wanted to feel good…” abby’s mouth fell agape when you plunged one of your fingers inside of her warm walls. “what is it, hm? your little boyfriend couldn’t fuck you good enough?” moans fell from her lips at the pumping of your finger in and out of her, your lips brushing against her own, eyes never wandering from her face. you wanted to see her fall apart. “of course he didn’t, i’m sure he couldn’t make you cum even if he tried. but i can. i’m gonna fuck you so good… gonna make you come so hard you’d be coming back for more. begging for more.” you added your ring finger, curling them and making abby whimper. “is that what you want? want me to fuck you dumb, abby?”
“yes, fuck. yes.”
you hummed. “wanna taste you.” you muttered against her lips, and in a blink you were in between her thighs. abby’s back arched and she gasped when your tongue licked at her throbbing clit.
“oh my god.” she moaned, and you hummed as you felt her grip at your hair. you kept her thighs spread as you sucked on her clit, fucking her open on your fingers.
“pussy taste so good…” you groaned, lapping at her arousal. you were slurping on every drop of her juices you could get. you noticed her squirming, moaning non-stop. it was as if she’d never… “have you never gotten eaten out?” she shook her head and you cursed under your breath.
“owen said it was disgusting.” you felt rage flowing through your body. disgusting?
“does it seem like i’m not enjoying it?” you inquired, and her cheeks flushed, shaking her head no. “exactly. that’s because i love it.” you licked a fat strip up her cunt. “i could drown in this pussy.”
you curled your fingers, hitting her g spot over and over again. her moans were getting louder, her thighs trembling and walls clenching around your fingers.
you knew she was close.
“i’m gonna cum.” she whined, and you only thrusted harder with your fingers, sucked harsher on her clit until her moans came to a stop in a silent scream and cum poured from her hole and soaked your fingers. “fuckfuckfuck!” you hummed as she whimpered, fucking her through it.
you kissed her inner thighs, and left a little peck on her clit before pulling away. she looked absolutely fucked out as you crawled up her body, pushing your lips against her and hearing her hum when she opened your mouth for your tongue. she could taste herself on your tongue. and it was making her wonder how would you taste.
“can i do it too?” she inquired against your lips.
“you don’t have to if-“
“i want to.” she cut you off, and you smiled, kissing her back. “you’ll tell me how, right?” you nodded.
“yeah, i’ll teach you.” and somehow, abby was getting wet again at those words. you pushed your wife beater off, along with your boxers before exchanging places with the blonde, who once she was on top of you couldn’t help but groan.
“so beautiful…” you sighed when you felt her kisses trail down your neck, sucking bruises that had you wanting more. usually you’d ask the girls that you’d fuck to not leave any marks on you. but you wanted abby’s. and you weren’t ashamed of it. her warm big hands cupped your tits. “couldn’t stop looking at you in the showers… you looked so fucking hot.”
“what do you mean the showers? you were staring at the gym too.” you teased her, and her cheeks flushed.
“shut up.” she said.
“why don’t you make me?” you smirked, your face quickly changing to one of pleasure when her hand cupped your cunt, fingers pressing against your puffy clit. “you’re wet.” it was as if she were surprised.
“no shit.” you let out a chocked laughter at the little circles she draw on that little bundle of nerves. “you’re hot, abby.”
“yeah?” she inquired and you nodded.
“been wanting you since the start. too bad you were with owen.” you said.
“yeah. too bad.” she agreed, slowly trailing down your body to lay in between your legs. “but you have me now, don’t you?” she inquired, eyes on yours and you hummed.
“yeah.” but then you were moaning at the experimental lick she made up your pussy, the heavy and earthy taste of your arousal hitting her and making her groan. it was over for her. she knew she’d become addicted. “oh, fuck.” one of your hands laced on her hair, your hips rutting against her tongue. “just like that.” abby hummed, lapping at everything she could get, her strong arms surrounding your thighs to push them over her shoulder and keep you there, at her mercy. “shit, abby.” you moaned her name when you felt her slightly suck on your clit. at your reaction, she did it again, harder, hearing you whine as your back arched.
“you’re sensitive, huh?” she teased, licking at your throbbing clit, and you hissed.
“why don’t you be a good girl and keep your mouth busy with my pussy, hm?” abby swore she could come, her stomach flipping at the nickname. you noticed the blush on her cheeks. “you liked that, didn’t you? like it when i call you my good girl?” she nodded. “speak up.” you ordered.
“yeah.”
“of course you do…” you cooed, taking the hair out of her face. “then earn it. make me feel good.” that’s all she needed to go back in between your legs, sucking and making out dirtily with your pussy. “just like that. atta girl.” abby moaned, her hips rutting against the sheets in need of friction. “use your fingers, come on.” one of her hands came in between your legs, her middle fingers prodding at your hole before slowly pushing in, making you sigh in pleasure.
she started to slowly pump it in and out, relishing in your breathy moans and grunts as she sucked on your clit, after a couple of minutes pushing in a second. wet squelches coming from your pussy taking her thick fingers filled your room, along with her hums and your groans.
“good girl abby, fuck, good fucking girl.” she was eating you like a starved woman, hungry for more. she couldn’t get enough of it. of your taste. of you. “i’m gonna cum. you’re gonna make me cum so hard…” your hips were subconscious rutting against her mouth, chasing your upcoming orgasm. she only curled her fingers faster, sucked harder, until she felt it; the squeezing of your walls around her fingers and your thighs against her face and the cum coating her fingers and tongue. she hummed, suckling and slurping on your juices, on every last drop, making a mess out of her cheeks, lips and chin until you pushed her away due to the overstimulation, pulling from her blonde hair. her hazy blue eyes looked at you, and your heart shuttered. you pulled from her so she could lay on top of you. “so pussy drunk… did you like it baby? liked eating my pussy?” she nodded, opening her mouth for you when you kissed her, feeling your hands cup her ass to thrust her against your pussy, making the two of you moan. “why don’t i teach you what else girls can do, hm?”
-
a/n;🤭
3K notes · View notes
hiitsm · 1 month
Text
Whispers of Desires
Tumblr media
You and your girlfriend are navigating the tender stages of experiencing your first time together.
Whispers of Desires is for 18+ only.
This piece contains intimate conversations about sex, characterized by a mix of awkward, shy, and loving moments. It also includes a depiction of soft, slow, and tender sexual activity, with a focus on emotional connection and mutual care.
-
Note: I’ve spent a lot of time crafting this piece, and while it may be a bit longer than initially planned, I felt that each moment deserved the detail it received. I've adjusted it a little. I hope it meets everyone’s expectations. Thank you so much for the kind messages and support after the teaser. I appreciate it a lot.
-
The kitchen is warm with the scent of freshly baked pastries, the lingering aroma of sugar and butter mixing with the comforting familiarity of Alexia’s home. You stand at the counter, carefully folding a dishcloth, trying to keep your thoughts focused on the simple, repetitive tasks. The to-do list lies nearby, a silent reminder of the things you can control, and the one thing you can't seem to face.
You glance at the list, its contents scribbled in your neat handwriting:
To-Do List: 1. Clean up the kitchen 2. Fold laundry 3. Talk to Alexia about her sexual desires
Your eyes linger on the third item, the one you've been dreading. With a sigh, you quickly strike through it, the pen's ink cutting across the words as if that could erase the anxiety gnawing at you. You can’t bring yourself to talk to her about that, not yet. What if the rumors are true? What if her desires are something you can't fulfill? You don’t want to lose her, but you also don’t want to lose yourself in the process.
You’ve heard all the rumors about Alexia Putellas. That she loves to dominate, to pull her partners apart with a fierce intensity. That she revels in control, in the thrill of the chase. That her passion is raw and fast. Each whisper you caught only fueled your anxiety, a churning storm of nerves that seemed impossible to quiet. You tried to ignore them, to push the thoughts aside, but they lingered in the back of your mind, casting shadows over the love you share.
And now, with the possibility of taking the next step in your relationship looming before you, the fear has only grown. You’re scared to take that step, terrified that your desires aren’t the same as hers. What if you can’t match her intensity? What if what she wants is something you can’t give? The thought of not being enough for her, of failing her in some way, sends a cold shiver down your spine.
You start wiping down the counters, moving in a methodical rhythm, each swipe of the cloth offering a brief distraction from the storm brewing in your mind. The sponge glides over the cool surface, removing traces of flour and sugar, but the tension in your chest remains.
As you straighten up the scattered baking supplies, your eyes drift toward the small, framed photo on the windowsill. It's a candid shot taken on a sunny day, the two of you caught mid-laughter, arms wrapped around each other, the kind of joy that feels almost too good to be true. The memory makes you pause, your fingers brushing the frame lightly as you wonder if you’re letting your fears overshadow the truth of what you have.
The whispers, the rumors, they all seem so distant when you think about the woman you know. The Alexia who smiles softly at you over breakfast, who texts you in the middle of the day just to say she misses you, who holds your hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. But still, the doubts linger, making you question whether you truly know her as well as you think.
The front door clicks open, and you hear the familiar sound of her footsteps, steady and sure, as they approach the kitchen. You barely have time to turn before she’s there, her presence filling the room with an effortless grace.
“Hola, amor,” she greets you, her voice soft and filled with warmth that wraps around you like a blanket. She glances around the kitchen, taking in the clean counters and organized space. “Cómo va todo?”
You quickly grab the to-do list, folding it in half and slipping it into your pocket before she can see the items you’ve been obsessing over. “Everything’s good,” you reply, hoping your voice sounds more steady than you feel. But Alexia is already closer, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of affection and curiosity.
Before she can ask anything more, you close the distance between you, leaning in to kiss her softly. Her lips are warm, and for a moment, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, shared moment. She hums contentedly against your lips, a small, pleased sound that makes your heart flutter.
“Mmm, that was nice,” she murmurs when you pull back, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She switches to English, her accent making the words sound even sweeter. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer into the safety of her embrace. “What were you up to, amor?”
“Just trying to get things sorted around here,” you say, your voice quieter now, more intimate. “How was your day?”
“Busy, but good,” she replies, her voice a little softer now, as if the closeness between you demands a gentler tone. “I missed you, though.” The sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten with emotion.
“I missed you too,” you admit, your hand resting on her arm, tracing small patterns on the sleeve of her shirt. You can feel the steady beat of her heart through the fabric, and it gives you a small sense of calm. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Alexia’s eyes soften as she leans in for another kiss, this one more urgent, more filled with the longing that has been building up in both of you throughout the day. Her lips move against yours with a tenderness that quickly deepens into something more, a hunger that you feel echoing in your own chest.
Your heart races as you return her kiss, your fingers threading through her hair, holding onto her as if she’s the only solid thing in your world. For a moment, you lose yourself in the warmth of her touch, in the way she makes you feel safe and cherished.
But as the kiss grows more intense, a wave of anxiety crashes over you, pulling you back to the surface. You break the kiss abruptly, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Alexia pulls back just enough to look at you, concern etched on her features.
“Qué pasa?” she asks softly, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture. Her eyes search yours, trying to understand what’s going on inside your head.
You struggle to find the words, torn between the love you feel for her and the fear that’s been gnawing at you for days. You want to be honest with her, to share what’s been weighing on your heart, but the words stick in your throat, refusing to come out. You’re scared, scared that your desires don’t match hers, scared that what she wants is something you’re not sure you can give. And more than anything, you’re scared of losing her, of the possibility that this might be something that could drive a wedge between you.
Alexia waits patiently, her gaze steady and filled with a quiet strength that both comforts and intimidates you. She deserves the truth, but you’re not sure you’re ready to face it yourself. Not yet.
Alexia's concerned gaze remains locked on you as you struggle to find the right words. Your chest tightens with the weight of your fears, and you can feel your face flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety. The warmth of her hand on your cheek feels comforting, yet it only amplifies your nervousness. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
“I—” you start, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been... thinking a lot about us, and, um, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” You stumble over the words, each one feeling like a hurdle you’re barely able to jump. You clear your throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “I mean, I know we’ve been... close and everything, and I love you so much, but... but I’ve heard some things, and I—”
You stop abruptly, your hands gesturing awkwardly as if trying to physically grasp the right words. The shame of not being able to articulate your feelings is almost overwhelming. You glance around, desperately searching for something to focus on.
Alexia, sensing your distress, gently guides you towards the couch. “Come on, amor,” she says softly, her voice soothing. “Let’s sit down. You look like you could use a minute.” She leads you to the couch and gestures for you to sit, her touch light but reassuring.
You sink onto the couch, feeling a mixture of relief and dread. Alexia moves to the kitchen, her movements quick but purposeful. She returns with two glasses of water, handing one to you. “Here, drink this. It might help you feel a bit better.”
You take the glass, your hands still trembling slightly as you sip the cool water. Alexia sits beside you, her proximity comforting, yet her eyes are filled with an inquisitive tenderness. She reaches out and takes your free hand in hers, squeezing it gently.
“Whatever it is, we can talk about it,” she says softly. “I’m here for you.”
Feeling the pressure of your emotions building, you fumble for the to-do list you’d tucked away in your pocket. With a sheepish glance at Alexia, you pull it out and hand it to her. Her eyes widen slightly as she looks down at the list, and you see a faint blush spread across her cheeks.
“I, um, I had this list,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It was supposed to help me keep track of things... but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about... that last item.” You gesture vaguely at the paper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Alexia’s eyes dart to the list, and she blushes lightly as she reads the crossed-out line. The color in her cheeks deepens, and she bites her lip, clearly feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation. “Oh, um...” she stammers, her cheeks growing warm. “I see you’ve, uh, crossed out that part.”
You can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as you watch her reaction. The sight of her blushing and stumbling over her words makes your heart ache. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I’ve been hearing these things, and I didn’t know if we were on the same page.”
Alexia’s eyes soften with understanding, even though she’s clearly flustered. She reaches out, gently squeezing your hand in a gesture of reassurance. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression,” she says, her voice a little shaky but kind. “I really didn’t mean to cause any worry. I guess I didn’t realize how much those rumors were affecting you.”
You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, they’ve been on my mind a lot,” you admit. “I’m just scared that my own desires might not match up with what you want. I’ve always preferred things to be a bit softer, you know?”
Alexia’s blush deepens, but she quickly shakes off her shyness, her eyes meeting yours with a sincere intensity. “I understand,” she says softly. “And I want to make sure you feel comfortable with us exploring this together.” She pauses, then adds, her voice growing more confident but still tinged with a hint of awkwardness, “I, um, like to be in control and, well, sometimes a bit rough. But that doesn’t mean we can’t adjust things to fit what we both want.”
You feel a wave of relief wash over you at her honesty. “Thank you for sharing that,” you say, your voice tinged with gratitude. “I really appreciate you being open with me. Can I ask you something? What do you like, exactly?”
Alexia takes a deep breath, her shyness melting away as she becomes more animated. “I, um, really enjoy taking the lead, feeling like I’m in charge,” she says, her eyes brightening with a newfound confidence. “But I also love hearing what you like, what makes you feel good. I want to make sure we both have what we need.”
Her willingness to adapt and consider your feelings makes you feel incredibly valued. You squeeze her hand back, your heart swelling with appreciation. “I like it when things are gentle and tender,” you admit, feeling more at ease now that the conversation is flowing openly. “It’s important to me that we both feel good about what we’re doing.”
After the conversation, the dynamic between you and Alexia shifts subtly but significantly. There’s a new warmth in her gaze, an added layer of intimacy that wasn’t there before. The initial awkwardness has melted away, replaced by a deeper understanding and a tangible current of desire that flows between you.
In the days that follow, the air seems charged with a new energy. You notice the way Alexia's touches linger a little longer, the way her kisses are filled with a gentle urgency that wasn’t there before. Conversations take on a more flirtatious tone, filled with playful teasing and soft, suggestive glances. The connection between you feels more electric, more alive, as if the boundaries between affection and desire have become wonderfully blurred.
One evening, after a particularly busy day, you find yourselves curled up on the couch together. The soft light of the lamp casts a warm glow around the room, creating an intimate cocoon where it’s just the two of you. Alexia’s head rests on your shoulder, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on your arm as you talk about your day.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about,” Alexia murmurs, her voice low and warm. Her breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. “I’m really glad we had that conversation.”
“Me too,” you reply, your voice soft. “I feel like things are... different now, in a good way.”
Alexia lifts her head, her eyes meeting yours with a sparkle of playful mischief. “Different how?” she asks, her voice taking on a teasing edge.
You smile, feeling a flush of warmth at her proximity. “Well, for one, there’s this new... tension between us,” you say, your words coming out with a hint of nervousness and excitement. “I feel it every time we’re close.”
Alexia’s smile widens, her eyes darkening with a mix of affection and desire. “I’ve noticed that too,” she says softly. She leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that quickly deepens into something more passionate. Her hands find their way to your face, cupping it gently as her kisses grow more fervent.
As the days pass, the physical connection between you both becomes more intense. You find yourselves stealing kisses whenever you can, your touches lingering with a newfound intensity. Each caress, each look, becomes a promise of what’s to come, a gentle build-up to the moment when you’ll finally give in to the desire that’s been growing between you.
With your heart full of anticipation and a touch of nervousness, you decide to make tonight special. Something that reflects the tender connection you both cherish. You spend the afternoon preparing, wanting every detail to be perfect.
The apartment is filled with the warm, inviting scent of your cooking. You’ve prepared a simple yet elegant dinner, something that you know Alexia loves. The table is set with your best dishes, a bottle of wine breathing on the side, and soft, flickering candlelight casting a golden glow over everything. The lights are dimmed, the apartment bathed in a warm, romantic ambiance that feels almost magical.
You’ve added little touches around the room. Fresh flowers in a vase on the table, the soft strains of music playing in the background, the living room rearranged slightly to create a more intimate setting. It’s a space that feels safe and inviting, designed to make tonight memorable.
As the time draws near, you catch yourself fidgeting with the edges of your dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, adjusting the candles on the table one last time. There’s a nervous flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and anxiety as you wait for Alexia to arrive. You want everything to be perfect, but more than that, you want to show her just how much she means to you.
As the final touches are set, you hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. You quickly smooth down the fabric of your dress, a soft blush warming your cheeks. You’ve chosen something special for tonight. An elegant dress that flows gracefully, making you feel beautiful and confident, even if your heart is still racing with anticipation.
When Alexia steps into the apartment, she pauses in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the sight of you. Her reaction is immediate and genuine. A wide, happy smile spreads across her face, lighting up her features. For a moment, she just stands there, staring at you as if she’s seeing you for the first time. The look of admiration in her eyes makes your heart swell with warmth.
“Wow,” she breathes out, her voice tinged with awe. “You look... increíble, amor. So beautiful.” She takes a step closer, her gaze sweeping over you with a mixture of affection and admiration. “I—I’m so lucky,” she stammers, her usual confident demeanor giving way to a shy, almost bashful expression.
You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at her praise, and you can’t help but smile shyly. “Thank you,” you reply, feeling a rush of warmth from her words. The way she’s looking at you makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.
Alexia’s gaze then shifts momentarily to her own outfit—casual training wear that she’s clearly worn just for comfort. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she nervously tugs at the hem of her sweatshirt. “Oh, I, um... I didn’t realize I’d be, uh, underdressed,” she stammers, her eyes flitting between you and her own attire. “I didn’t expect—”
You cut her off gently, stepping closer and taking her hand in yours. “You look great,” you say sincerely, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I love how soft and relaxed you look. I just wanted to make tonight special for you, for us. It’s not about the clothes. It’s about being together.”
Alexia’s blush deepens, but she seems to relax at your words. She looks into your eyes with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softening. “You really didn’t have to do all this, but it means so much that you did.”
Without another word, she leans in and presses a tender kiss to your lips. The kiss is warm and full of affection, a perfect encapsulation of the love and understanding that has blossomed between you. When she pulls back, her eyes are filled with a soft, loving glow. “I’m really lucky to have you,” she murmurs, her voice full of emotion.
Her words are reassuring, and you feel your nervousness begin to fade, replaced by a sense of calm. You lead her to the table, pulling out her chair before taking your seat across from her. The candles flicker between you, casting soft shadows on her face as she looks at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell.
Dinner is a quiet, intimate affair. The conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared glances that say more than words ever could. The food is delicious, but it’s the company that truly makes the evening special. With each passing moment, the connection between you deepens, the unspoken promise of what’s to come lingering in the air.
After the last bite of dessert, Alexia leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours. “This was amazing,” she says, her voice low and warm. “Thank you for doing all of this.”
You smile, feeling a flush of pride at her words. “I’m glad you liked it. I just wanted us to have a night that’s... just for you, for us.”
Alexia’s eyes soften even more, and she reaches across the table to take your hand, her thumb gently stroking the back of it. “You’ve made me feel so special tonight,” she murmurs, her voice filled with emotion. “And I want to make sure you feel the same.”
The intensity in her gaze sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s a different kind of shiver than the anxiety you’ve felt before. It’s one of anticipation, of knowing that you’re about to share something incredibly intimate and meaningful with the person you love. You nod, unable to find the right words to express what you’re feeling, but knowing that she understands.
She stands, pulling you up with her, and with a gentle smile, she leads you into the living room. The atmosphere here is even more intimate, the music playing softly in the background, the candles you’d placed around the room casting a soft, romantic glow. Alexia pauses in the middle of the room, turning to face you, her hands resting lightly on your waist.
She looks at you with such affection, such care, that it takes your breath away. “Are you okay?” she asks softly, her voice filled with concern and love. “We can take things slow, amor. There’s no rush.”
You nod, your heart full of love for her. “I’m okay,” you reply, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I want this... with you.”
Alexia’s smile is soft and full of warmth. She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, one that speaks of all the tenderness she feels for you. The kiss deepens slowly, her hands moving up to cup your face, her thumbs brushing your cheeks in a gesture that is both protective and loving.
As the kiss lingers, your hands find their way to her back, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. The room seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of intimacy. The fears and doubts that had once clouded your mind now seem distant, replaced by the certainty that this moment, this connection, is exactly where you’re meant to be.
When she pulls back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, you can see the love and desire in her eyes, tempered by the same care she’s shown throughout the night. “I want you to feel safe with me,” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin. “And I want you to tell me if there’s anything you need, anything you want.”
You nod, your heart swelling with emotion. “I feel safe with you,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your feelings. “And I want to be with you... just like this.”
Her smile is full of understanding, and she takes your hand, leading you to the couch where you’d spent so many nights talking, laughing, and just being together. But tonight, it feels different. There’s a sense of anticipation, of something new and beautiful blooming between you.
She sits down, pulling you gently onto her lap, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both protective and possessive. Her lips find yours again, the kiss slow and tender, her hands exploring your body with a softness that speaks of her care for you. You feel her breath hitch slightly as her hands move over the curves of your body, her desire evident but tempered by the gentle way she touches you.
You respond in kind, your hands moving through her hair, down her back, holding her close as you both sink deeper into the kiss. The world outside ceases to exist, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace.
Her lips trail from your mouth to your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, each one sending a shiver of pleasure through you. Her hands continue their gentle exploration, never rushing, always mindful of the pace you’ve set together. You can feel the tension in her body, the restraint she’s holding onto, and it only makes you love her more.
You shift slightly, straddling her lap, your hands resting on her shoulders as you look into her eyes. “Alexia,” you whisper, your voice filled with all the love and desire you feel. “I want this... with you.”
Her eyes darken with desire, but there’s also a softness there, a tenderness that reassures you. “I want this too,” she murmurs, her hands settling on your hips, holding you close. “More than anything.”
The moment feels like it’s wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and mutual affection. Alexia’s fingers gently trace the curves of your waist, and you can feel the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second.
Suddenly, with a playful glint in her eye, Alexia shifts slightly beneath you and starts to rise. You yelp in surprise, your arms tightening instinctively around her shoulders as she lifts you effortlessly from her lap. Her strength is both reassuring and exhilarating, a reminder of her athletic prowess.
“Whoa, careful!” you laugh nervously, gripping her tightly as she stands up. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she chuckles softly at your reaction.
“Relax,” Alexia teases gently, her voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you. I’m an athlete, remember?” She holds you securely against her, her muscles flexing as she adjusts her grip to make sure you’re comfortable.
With a tender smile, Alexia walks slowly towards the bed, her steps measured and deliberate. As she reaches the edge of the mattress, she carefully lowers you onto the soft surface. Despite her careful movements, you cling to her, your arms wrapped around her neck as if reluctant to let go.
She pauses for a moment, her eyes roaming over your body with a mixture of admiration and affection. Her gaze lingers on you, taking in the sight of you stretched out on the bed, your dress clinging to your form in a way that makes her eyes darken with desire.
A warm, affectionate smile spreads across her face as she looks up at you. The connection between you both feels electric, charged with an intensity that makes your heart race. Without breaking eye contact, Alexia leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. The kiss is soft and lingering, a promise of the intimacy to come.
As she deepens the kiss, she begins to lay her own weight down beside you, her body pressing against yours with a comforting warmth. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, syncing with your own in a rhythm that feels perfectly natural.
Her hands explore your dress, her fingers tracing along the fabric as she starts to unfasten it. You help her, your movements synchronized as you pull the dress up and over your head. The dress slides off with a soft rustle, leaving you in your underwear.
Alexia’s fingers trail along your exposed skin, her touch light and teasing. She smiles up at you, her gaze filled with adoration. “You look beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice low and sincere. The way she looks at you makes you feel cherished, every inch of you appreciated.
She then starts to peel off her tracksuit, her movements slightly awkward as she tries to juggle her clothing while maintaining her focus on you. You help her, your fingers brushing against her skin as you assist with removing the tracksuit. Her clothes fall to the floor in a soft heap, leaving her in a simple, form-fitting top and underwear.
With the room filled with a tender, expectant silence, you take a deep breath, your fingers hovering hesitantly above her skin. You let your hands drift toward her chest, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You want to trace your fingers over her beautiful breasts, but you hesitate, unsure if you’re crossing any boundaries.
Shyly, you lift your gaze to meet hers, seeking reassurance in her eyes. The vulnerability in your expression is met with a soft, reassuring smile from Alexia. Her eyes, full of warmth and encouragement, seem to invite you to continue.
“Está bien, amor,” she whispers in Spanish, her voice soothing and full of affection. She gently takes your hands in hers, guiding them with a loving touch to cup her breasts. The warmth of her skin beneath your palms is both exhilarating and comforting.
As you make contact, Alexia lets out a soft, breathy moan, a sound so beautiful and intimate that it sends a shiver of pleasure through you. The sound resonates deeply within you, amplifying the connection you share and making you feel incredibly close to her.
With a gentle yet assertive grace, Alexia begins to take more control of the moment. She shifts her weight slightly, pressing her body more firmly against yours, allowing her warmth and softness to envelop you. Her hands glide over your body with a tenderness that feels both exhilarating and reassuring.
“Just let me guide you,” she murmurs softly, her voice a mix of confidence and tenderness. “Tell me what you like, and we’ll explore this together.”
You nod, your breath coming in soft, uneven gasps as you let her lead. Her fingers trail down your sides, exploring your curves with a careful touch that sends waves of pleasure through you. She lifts her gaze to yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, and you respond with a soft, encouraging smile, giving her the silent permission she needs.
Alexia’s hands continue their journey, gently slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. She eases them down slowly, her movements deliberate and careful as she uncovers your skin. The cool air against your exposed core contrasts with the warmth of her touch, intensifying the sensations you're experiencing.
As she removes your underwear completely, she turns her attention to her own, her fingers deftly working to peel them away. The sight of her undressing, her body illuminated by the soft light, makes your heart race with anticipation. When she finally discards her last piece of clothing, she pauses, letting you take in the beauty of her fully exposed form.
Overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment, you slowly shift into a sitting position on the bed, reaching out to wrap your arms around her. The softness of her skin against your body is electrifying, and you hold her close, your breath mingling with hers.
You lean in to plant gentle kisses on her exposed breasts, your lips brushing against her warm skin with a reverence that conveys just how much you adore her. Each kiss is tender, filled with love and a desire to show her how much she means to you.
You then trail your kisses down her left inner arm, admiring the beauty of her tattoo as your lips make contact with her skin, adding a layer of intimacy and appreciation to the tattoo. You slowly and softly set you teeth in her soft flesh.
The sensation of your kisses and bites elicits a soft, appreciative sigh from Alexia, her body responding to the gentle affection. “I like that,” she murmurs softly, her voice laced with warmth and pleasure. “It feels so good.”
She continues to revel in the intimacy you’re sharing, her hands tenderly caressing your back as you continue to kiss her. The closeness between you both becomes even more palpable, each touch and kiss a testament to your deep connection.
After a while, with a loving and considerate touch, Alexia gently guides you back onto the bed. “Let’s take our time,” she says softly, her voice filled with reassurance. As she helps you settle onto your back, her gaze remains tender and attentive, ensuring you feel both comfortable and cherished.
Once you’re comfortably situated, Alexia positions herself above you with a graceful and deliberate motion. Her core makes contact with yours, and she begins to move with a slow, rhythmic motion. She rocks back and forth with a gentle, deliberate pace, creating a sensation that blends pleasure with the perfect amount of pressure.
Her movements are tender yet purposeful, each shift and glide against you enhancing the intimate connection you’re experiencing together. The rhythm she sets is both soothing and stimulating, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the shared moment of closeness. The feeling of her body moving against yours is a harmonious dance of pleasure and tenderness, deepening the bond you share and making each moment feel incredibly special.
As the pleasure builds, you finally allow yourself to be vocal about how good she makes you feel. Soft, breathy moans escape your lips, each sound a testament to the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. You find yourself unable to keep quiet, your voice betraying the immense pleasure you’re experiencing. The sounds you make only seem to encourage Alexia, her own movements becoming more attuned to your responses, amplifying the mutual pleasure you both are sharing.
As the pleasure between you builds, Alexia’s focus remains unwaveringly on you. Her eyes, filled with a mix of adoration and passion, roam over your face and body. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, her voice tender and filled with genuine appreciation. “And you make me feel so incredible.”
Her words are a soothing balm, adding to the warmth of the moment. The pleasure between you becomes almost overwhelming, and in the throes of it, her movements start to quicken. The rhythm of her grinding grows faster, her passion driving her actions as she becomes more lost in the sensation.
In her heightened state of desire, Alexia’s hand reaches out and firmly grabs your right breast, her fingers pinching your nipple roughly. The unexpected intensity makes you gasp in surprise, your body reacting sharply to the sensation. Her eyes widen in alarm as she notices your reaction, and she immediately halts her movements.
“Oh mierda, lo siento, lo siento mucho,” she breathes, her voice laced with concern. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Despite the sudden stop, the sensation had been unexpectedly pleasurable, and you find yourself blushing, feeling exposed but also intrigued. You look up at her, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. “It, um, actually felt good,” you admit shyly. “If you want to, you can continue.”
Alexia’s expression shifts from concern to a warm, relieved smile. Her eyes reflect a blend of affection and excitement as she takes your words to heart. “Are you sure?” she asks softly, her voice tender and filled with a gentle eagerness.
You nod, feeling a newfound confidence in sharing your desires. “Yes, I’m sure,” you affirm. “I trust you, and I want to experience this with you.”
With your reassurance, Alexia resumes her movements, her touch becoming more deliberate and attentive as she finds a rhythm that balances both pleasure and sensitivity. Her continued exploration of your body is filled with a renewed passion and care, ensuring that every moment is both thrilling and deeply intimate.
As the sensations between you intensify, Alexia’s movements become a rhythmic dance of passion and tenderness. Her body rocks gently but purposefully against yours, each motion sending waves of pleasure through you. She maintains a steady gaze, her eyes never leaving yours, communicating unspoken affection and desire.
“You feel so amazing,” she murmurs softly, her voice a tender caress against your ear. “I love the way you respond to me.”
Her words are a constant comfort, her sweet reassurances adding an extra layer of intimacy to the moment. She leans down to kiss you, her lips finding yours with a fervent yet gentle touch. The kiss is a melding of emotions, a silent conversation of love and longing that deepens with each passing second.
As the pleasure reaches its peak, her hands move with a delicate precision, enhancing the sensations and making sure you feel cherished and adored. She holds you close, her body pressed against yours, and the steady rhythm of her movements becomes a perfect symphony of shared ecstasy.
The culmination of your mutual pleasure comes as a breathtaking crescendo. You both feel the rush of release, a powerful and overwhelming wave that washes over you, leaving you breathless and blissful. Alexia’s soft, contented moans mix with your own vocal expressions of pleasure, creating a harmony that is both beautiful and deeply personal.
You kiss her tenderly, your lips moving in a gentle rhythm that matches the lingering waves of pleasure. The kiss is a promise of love and devotion, a sweet exchange that further cements the bond you share. Her hands cradle your face, her touch tender and reassuring as she pulls back slightly to look into your eyes.
“Thank you for being so amazing,” you whisper, your voice filled with genuine affection. “I’ve never felt this close to anyone before.”
Alexia’s eyes shine with a mix of love and satisfaction. “It’s because of you,” she replies softly. “You’ve made this so special. I love you so much.”
As the euphoria of the moment begins to settle, Alexia’s teasing smile makes a reappearance, her eyes twinkling with playful affection. She leans in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face before speaking, her tone light yet filled with meaning.
“I don’t stand a chance of having a normal life with you, do I?” she teases, her voice laced with warmth. “You’ve made me want to do this with you every single moment, exploring new things, finding out what we both like. We’re just getting started, and I’m so excited to explore even more with you.”
She punctuates her words with that little shy smile of hers, the one that always manages to melt your heart. It’s a perfect blend of her natural confidence and the sweet, awkward vulnerability that makes her so endearing.
You can’t help but laugh softly at her words, feeling both exhilarated and a little overwhelmed by the intensity of your connection. “Gosh, what have I gotten myself into?” you tease back, your tone playful but your heart swelling with affection.
Alexia chuckles, her smile widening as she leans down to kiss you again, this time more slowly, savoring the moment. “Whatever it is, I hope you’re ready for it,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice carrying both a promise and a challenge.
“I am,” you whisper back, feeling a surge of anticipation for the adventures yet to come.
With her by your side, you’re ready to explore everything. Every desire, every emotion, every new discovery. As you lie there in each other’s arms, the future feels wide open, full of possibility, and you know without a doubt that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
As you hold Alexia close, the warmth of her embrace and the depth of your connection make you realize how unfounded your doubts had been. In this moment of intimacy and understanding, you know with certainty that your fears were unnecessary, and that what you share is stronger and more beautiful than you ever imagined.
-
Note: I realize that some transitions might not be as smooth as l'd like, and plan to refine them later. I just wanted to share this now, even though I haven't done a thorough grammar check yet. Please be gentle with your feedback!
596 notes · View notes
notyourhetloki · 1 month
Note
Can I request headcanons for Logan x GN Reader x Wade with Reader who's oblivious that both of them like them romantically please?
Logan x oblivious!Reader x Wade
Tumblr media
Reader: they/them (gender neutral)
/Logan x Reader x Wade/
A/N: Heey! I know you asked for headcanons but I wrote it as a little fic... hope you don't mind!
Tags: SFW fic, poly relationship, oblivious!reader, Wade is desperate, they are NOT normal.
You should know by now that they liked you... right? But it was hard when they were so fricking cryptid about it! All they did was look at you longingly and compliment you and flirt with you! How were you supposed to know?
Jokes aside, you genuinely thought they acted like that around everyone... especially Wade, the guy was a flirt and couldn't be taken seriously.
As for Logan, you thought he was just being polite. Calling you pet names wasn't necessarily a way to flirt, after all.
Besides, they were already in a relationship with each other! That's what everyone imagined, at least.... so you weren't expecting them to open up a space for you in their lives.
But then you started receiving notes in the mail, written in red ink and saying things like: YOU'RE AMAZING / GIVE US A CHANCE / YOU'RE SO PRETTY IT'S HURTING MY FEELINGS / (Y/N) WE REALLY LIKE YOU.
You were a little scared at first, but soon would discover it was actually Wade sending you those! You figured it out one day when you caught him slipping one card into your mailbox, Logan was beside him and tried justifying the act. "It was his idea."
You smiled sweetly at them as they awkwardly made their way to you, Wade opening his mouth to mutter some words. "I just wanted to make sure you knew..."
"Knew what?" You asked in disbelief, still not sure of what he meant.
They looked at each other, confused at your confusion. "That we like you, (y/n)... I thought it was obvious!" Said Wade.
"But I already knew that! I like you too, boys." You would try to respond, but Logan carefully grabbed your hand and brought it towards his chest.
"I don't think you understand, beautiful... we really like you. We... want you." He said looking into your eyes as Wade shook his head, confirming.
"Ooh..." Realization hit you like a brick, they DID actually want you! Crazy right? How all those hints flew over your head... now everything made sense! "Oh, boys... you have no idea how happy that makes me! I-I didn't realize, I thought-"
"It's alright, love." Logan squeezed your hand gently, looking over at Wade and complaining. "See? All we had to do was tell them directly like normal people."
"Oh, peanut... you know better than anyone that we're not normal!" Wade whispered, turning at you and grabbing your other hand. You smiled at them and as they smiled back, Wade continued. "But I have a feeling that they don't mind..."
488 notes · View notes
starrystevie · 1 year
Text
hurt/comfort | mentions of anxiety and trauma | crossposted to twitter
"what's that?" eddie murmurs into the quiet darkness of their bedroom.
dread piles into steve's stomach. he wants to tug his sleeve over his hands so eddie can't see the writing on his palm anymore. wants to hide the pen marks by holding onto his hips instead.
"it's nothing," he whispers back, attaching his lips to the underside of eddie's jaw. he knows his boyfriend melts at the kisses he puts there. knows it will distract him from asking any more prying questions.
the ink is smudged, hardly legible anymore after a day at work. between washing his hands and shuffling papers and rubbing subconsciously at his palm when that certain type of anxiety knots into his gut, the pen marks from earlier are halfway to disappearing until he starts it all over again the next morning.
steve can't help it. he thought that moving in with eddie, having his support, would make it easier to cope with it all. thought that having someone else to help hold him accountable was the answer.
yet here he is, writing a list on his hand every morning, just to help him remember simple things.
he turns on the coffee pot in the morning, makes a note of it on his palm, crosses it out when he turns the pot off and tells himself over and over that it's actually off and he's not imagining it.
he locks the door and writes "LOCKED" in all caps so he doesn't come home halfway through the day to check and make sure it's actually locked.
he brushes his teeth, he feeds the dog, he puts his wallet in his briefcase, he closes the refrigerator door after breakfast and writes reminder after reminder on his palm in sticky black ink.
it helps, really it does, when steve's mind starts to wander in a boring meeting and he gets that hot rush of guilt of forgetting something burning through his veins. he'll look at his hand under the table and scan over the notes, find what's looking for, and try to breathe.
he'll read it over and over, the crossed out "coffee pot" or the "wallet in bag" or the "fed duke", until he feels like it sinks in, blinking back into real time to focus.
it's some strange mix of anxiety and lack of control and head trauma, robin thinks.
steve can't talk to a lot of people about it, embarrassed that he can't remember doing simple fucking tasks, but robin gets it. gets him. robin lets him swing his legs into her lap and pulls his hand up to her face so she can inspect the notes from the day to piece them all together.
it was her idea in the first place to write on his hand. she had suggested paper first but that was too easy to lose especially if he couldn't remember setting it down. she traces over the ink and lets him vent about feeling like a failure or stupid or some type of broken, reminding him gently that none of them got out hawkins without scars.
but steve hasn't let eddie see that yet, too afraid of breaking whatever they've made together, too afraid of scaring him off with his cracked brain and clenched jaw. too afraid of being built so wrong that he'll look like a once shiny penny covered in rust-colored problems.
so he digs his fingers into his palm, nails slicing into flesh & ink, and presses his lips fiercely into eddie's jaw to stop him from spilling any secrets. lets his tongue sneak out as an apology for not showing him his jagged edges. lets his teeth bite against the words he wants to say.
"baby," eddie whispers, his gentle callused hands trailing over steve's arms to settle on his clenched fist. he shakes his head against eddie's chin, bites at his neck again, ignores the way the love of his fucking life is trying to peel his fingers open to see it. see him.
steve feels raw, a live wire, one second away from snapping into sparks of electricity. he shakes his hand free and curls it around the small of eddie's back, tugging him closer, hiding his shame.
"it's nothing," he repeats, voice shaky and rough against eddie's skin.
if he just slots his leg right, if he just presses into eddie right, if he just tips his head and rolls his hips and plays his cards right, he can avoid all of this all together. he can take eddie's mind away from the writing on his hand and convince them both everything is okay.
but it's not that easy, it never is, because there fingers wrapping around his wrist at an awkward angle to pull his hand back and heat flares up in his cheeks. eddie's going to see, going to ask, going to figure out that steve is broken beyond repair and it's all thanks to one too many blows to the head & one too many times of fucking up & one too many times of leaving the goddamn door unlocked.
"i just-" he bites out, trying and failing to pull his arm out from eddie's grasp. maybe some part of him wants to come clean and get the inevitable over and done with. "-they're just some notes okay?"
and now eddie's looking between him and his palm with those eyes that hold love and the pity that he hates, so he blinks away, jolts to get his arm free again. he doesn't want pity, he doesn't want puppy dog eyes, he doesn't want the reminder that he can't-
but then there's lips pressing oh so gently to the hand he rubbed raw earlier when he could have sworn he didn't triple check that he paid the water bill. there's the flutter of eyelashes against his fingertips as eddie trails kisses over the thing that makes him feel less than.
steve doesn't fight to pull his arm back anymore. his shoulders drop, his muscles relax, and that ball of dread in the pit of his stomach eases away into something that feels more like acceptance.
"that's smart," eddie mutters against his palm. "to help you remember?"
and just like that, it isn't secret anymore. just like that eddie's peeled back the layers of bravado and nonchalance and seen steve for the mess he is.
he kisses the notes like it's the easiest thing to do and maybe for eddie it is. maybe taking a piece of steve's hurt is what they found each other for. maybe eddie was made to understand every inch of steve from the inside out like the way a vine instinctually knows to follow the sun.
steve resettles his face in eddie's neck, nods and breathes him in so he has him deep in his lungs. "it was robin's idea."
"she's smart too, then." eddie hums and drops steve's hand gently, letting it wind back around him so he can tangle his in steve's hair. "does it help?"
"yep," steve mumbles.
"how have i never noticed you scribbling on your hand everyday?" eddie asks with his lips pressed into the crown of steve's head.
"i didn't want you to see. i'm pretty good at hiding."
he can feel when eddie takes in a deep breath. feel when his chest expands and collapses before whispering "start adding 'eddie loves me' on there."
steve shakes his head with a small grin, his heart beat slowing from an anxious jack-rabbiting speed to something more eddie paced. "i never need a reminder of that one."
2K notes · View notes
bbystark · 23 days
Text
♡ simon is a bad stalker part 1 ♡
bad!stalker!simon x reader
Tumblr media
♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡
summary: simon being a stalker but really it's just him being sweet. price makes an appearance. mdni
a/n: as per usual this is way longer than it needs to be, enjoy
simon kind of sucks at being a stalker but it's because he doesn't really want to scare you, he just wants to be around you
he doesn't even really realize what he's doing at first, tells himself that he's only trailing you in his car as a random act of kindness, who knows what could happen to you in broad daylight walking 2 streets over to grab a coffee
he finds your number too easily, and even pays some sketchy site $20 after a pop-up promises to scrub your information from sites like the one he's on now. wouldn't want someone finding out all the information he did
you suddenly are getting way less spam calls/emails, and chalk it up to being lucky
it goes on for months, you have no idea who he is and that you're being stalked. the only inkling you have of anything weird going on is you're having terrific luck lately.
obviously, the luck is a huge war-torn man that can't seem to stop making your life easier
like one day it's raining hard after work, and you have prepared yourself to get soaked on your way to your car.
that is until you see an umbrella leaning against the building, a note with running ink that says "free" on it. talk about right place right time!
or the time your cat gets sick from eating a hair tie and you spend almost all your money on surgeries and medicine. you're starting to worry that you'll be short on rent when a literal child knocks on your door with an envelope full of money saying that he has a youtube channel and chose you randomly to give $5,000 to. what the fuck?
you're still standing motionless in your doorway with a stack of money in your hands when the kid rounds the corner, looking up at simon expectantly. "the lady took the money dude. where's my xbox?"
simon chuckles a little, handing the kid a bag from gamestop with the newest xbox in it. the little kid runs off, yelling thank you as he leaves.
then simon ramps it up a little, starts sneaking in at night to watch you sleep and go through your little trinkets. homeboy just wants to know every little thing there is to know about you
he starts showing up to the place you get coffee, where you grocery shop, etc
you start feeling like you're being watched, start hearing things at night that make you sleep a little lighter.
you figure out you're being stalked a few months later. you had started feeling so off that you began seeing a therapist, worried that some mystery mental illness is starting to creep in.
simon starts noticing that you're not sleeping as well, not smiling as much from the paranoia. so he does the next logical step of leaving you notes of reassurance
the first one is when he's watching you sleep one night, on his way out he trips over your cat who seemingly came out of nowhere. he catches himself on the wall, a dull thud echoing throughout your home.
the next morning you find a note, that simply states "sorry about the noise last night, i tripped on your cat. i'll try to be more quiet next time. yours, s."
you immediately start tweaking out. someone was in your house? and they left a fucking note? apologizing of all things?
then you realize that this has probably been going on for months
for some reason it calms you, you've been living in ignorance all this time and you always knew something was off, at least you knew what it was now
and as far as you knew your stalker hadn't done anything dangerous besides, you know, stalking you
so you stay quiet. mostly because you feel insane but a part of you also worries what would happen if you broke your stalker's routine. would he start becoming violent? would the police even have enough information to stop him?
simon takes that as acceptance and an invitation for more contact. so he starts calling you.
the first time is when you're about to leave for work. you answer with a bright "hello, this is y/n" and almost jump when a deep gravelly voice responds. "hi luv. take backroads to work today, there's an accident on the freeway, it'll probably make you late."
before you can respond you hear the "call ended" tone. you rapidly look around your street, seeing no one out of the ordinary. you say fuck it and take the freeway, not wanting to be lured into a trap or something. lo and behold, you're almost 20 minutes late to work.
the calls stop freaking you out when you realize one night, almost dazed, that whoever this man is actually helping you. like a lot.
just the other day after a girl's night out you had been struggling to find an uber around, cursing when the driver canceled on you after waiting for 15 minutes.
you're already about to cry when a black suv rolls up, a middle-aged man with impressive facial hair popping his head out of the window.
"y/n?" you hesitantly say "yes?" and take a step closer to the car.
"i'm your uber, stupid app canceled while i was on the way here. hop in." he opens his own door, tall frame making his way around to the door closest to you, opening it and waiting.
you're admittedly really drunk. and you realize that this might be a horrible idea, but for some reason the story makes sense, and you find yourself slipping into the back of the man's car.
"temp all right for you luv?" you freeze a little, the pet name feeling familiar somehow. you stay quiet, looking at him through the rearview mirror. he makes eye contact with you and suddenly you're blurting it out before you can stop yourself.
"you're not an uber driver, are you?"
he holds eye contact for a second, surprised when he doesn't see fear in your expression, just desperation for the truth. he sighs deeply and looks back at the road.
"nope" your heart leaps into your throat.
"are you..." you didn't even know what to say. "are you, him?"
price knows what you're asking. when ghost called and asked him to pick you up, he knew he shouldn't. the stupid fuck was stalking you for god's sake. but price has a soft spot for his broken LT.
"no. i'm not him."
"do you know him?"
price hesitates. "yeah. i know 'im."
you're quiet for a few minutes, briefly realizing that you're a few streets away from home. you didn't know what you expected, but actually being dropped off unharmed wasn't it.
price turns down your street and suddenly you have a million questions.
"does he hate me? does he want to hurt me? why me? what does he want?"
price puts the car and park, kind of irritated at ghost for putting him in this position and not being normal and just taking you out on a date.
"he's not gonna hurt you, y/n. he just wants to take care of you, make sure you're safe." you stare at him like he's an alien.
price decides that's all he's going to say and leans over the seat to unbuckle you. "time to get to bed youngin."
you slowly grab your purse, grabbing the car handle. you sit for a second, before turning back to the man. "thank you for the ride. and tell, him, thanks, i guess." you don't wait for a response, just get out of the car and walk up to your house.
you turn around and watch the man pull out of your driveway, speeding down your quiet street. you unlock your front door in a daze, still half expecting to be murdered at any second.
your phone rings and you answer without looking at the screen.
"y/n?" it's him. he had gotten a call from price, recapping his drive home with you and started panicking when price shared that you had clocked him not being an uber driver. he didn't know what else to do but call you and try to explain and not lose you.
"it's you."
"y/n, i-" you cut him off.
"i want to meet you."
simon realizes that he is so fucked.
393 notes · View notes
surielstea · 4 months
Text
Tattoos older than you
Tumblr media
Based off that Tik Tok trend: “I have tattoos older than you.” because age gap is everyone’s favorite trope, let’s be honest.
Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!Reader
Warnings: Age gap | suggestive | cute fluffiness
1.2k words
Tumblr media
I peek my head through the door of a familiar Shadow Singers bedroom with a mischievous grin. "Love, not tonight," The male warns from his desk, giving me a pointed look. I enter anyway, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
He sighs in faux disappointment as I approach him, footsteps padding on his carpet as shadows swarm me, curling around my ankles, up my arms, into my hair. "They love me," I beam, looking at the dark tendrils.
“They do,” He nods in heavy agreement, as if they never shut up about that fact.
"And so do you," I redirect my attention to the winged male in front of me.
"Do I?" He tilts his head tauntingly and as my reply I straddle over his lap, mounting his hips with a knowing smile. "I think I'm too old, forgot how to love," He shrugs.
"Az you're not that old," I groan.
"I'm twenty-three times your age," He argues, and my amused grin returns.
"You did the math," I tease, leaning closer to him, and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.
"Of course I did, I can't get you out of my head," He grumbles as if it's my fault he's always thinking of me.
"Then why can't you admit that you're in love with me?" I cup his face in my hands, tilting his head and forcing him to look into my eyes.
"I do love you, and that's why I refuse to subject you to the judgment that us being together will bring you," He denies and my smile falters.
"I don't care about the judgment, I just want you," I confess, dragging a hand through his hair. "C'mon, Az," I huff, arching my back so my chest is pressed to his as I tease his lips with my own. His large hands come to my waist, his touch is tender and for a moment I think he'll give in, but instead, his grip tightens and he lifts me off his lap, placing my feet down onto the ground.
"No, the difference is too much," He rejects and I groan dramatically. The Illyrian stands, looking down at me with lowered brows. His height towers over me and his wings only add to the intimidating factor. Such an animalistic thing to do, making himself appear bigger than he truly is. He was trying to scare me off, and it wasn't going to work.
"You're fae, does age really matter as an immortal?" I take a daunting step forward and he mirrors it with a step back.
"When I'm old enough to be your great, great, great grandfather? Yes," He argues and I roll my eyes, such a stupid analogy.
"But you're not," I take another step forward.
"But I could be," He doesn't pace back.
"But, you're not," I repeat with another stride and suddenly I'm directly in front of him, chest to chest. He looks at me, his eyes swirling with both adoration and regret, adoration because he loves me, and regret because he allowed me to love him back. I stare with the most devoting and comforting gaze I can muster, I don't dare break eye contact, making it clear that my stance on the matter won't sway.
"I have tattoos older than you, love," He drags his hand through his hair, and I know in that movement that he's been defeated.
"Oh, I know," I bring my hand up to his neck, my nail tracing over dark ink that's lived there for centuries.
"You're like a friend to—" He tries but I cut him off, "That's bullshit, I could treat you better than all your previous lovers and you know it," I claim and he looks at me with those same hazel eyes I fell in love with.
He sighs, clearly upset because he's horribly losing this argument.
"Your five-hundred-year-old brothers are dating my twenty-year-old sisters. They can't judge and isn't it their opinion that matters most?" I point out and he slowly closes his eyes, needing a moment to think about the situation.
"They're mates," He attempts to explain but I don't buy it for a moment, I sling my arms around the nape of his neck with a troublesome smile.
"Are you trying to tell me you don't feel a connection between us?" I ask and he only stares down at me, knowing that if he spoke all of his truest intentions would come out.
"We're in love, let yourself be happy," I whisper, we're close enough so he can hear me. I lift onto my toes, our noses brushing and he doesn't have it in himself to back away. "Let me help you be happy," I murmur and his brows crease, in conflict with himself and everything else going against this, but I could tell by that look on his face that he wanted every part of this too.
"Do you know how helpless you make me feel?" He rasps and my smile widens.
"That's called love, Az," I explain.
"Is it always so consuming?" He asked, his voice tender and raw. My heart swells against my rib cage and I tilt my head, nose moving past his as I press a gentle kiss onto his lips then pull away as quick as I came.
“Yes,” I whisper, knowing the exact feeling he was describing. “And it’s not going to go away,” I smile softly. "Because you love me," I mumble, mostly to myself, the new confession will be at the front of my brain for the rest of the week.
"A little too much for my liking," He hums.
"Impossible," I shake my head with a grin and he leans in, pressing a hard kiss to my forehead, then one on the tip of my nose, and finally plants one to my lips. I pull him closer, my chest pressing to his as I smile onto his lips, my fingers twining into the back of his hair.
“I do love you,” He whispers against my skin as he begins to peck down the line of my jaw.
“I know,” I tease, dragging my hand from his hair and down the expanse of his tattooed neck. He pulls back only a fraction, narrowing his brows with a glare and I giggle.
“I love you too, Azzie,” I roll my eyes, pressing a tender kiss to his lips which he barely got the chance to reciprocate before I was pulling away.
“I hate it when you call me that,” He huffs.
“Would you rather I call you my great-grandfather?” I smirk and he playfully pushes me away, and I dramatically fall down onto his bed.
“I’m revoking sex tonight for that,” He warned and I smirked.
“Not even for the rest of the week? You must really love me,” I croon and he tosses me a glare before climbing into bed beside me.
“An unfortunate turn of events,” He sighed while slinging his arm around me and pulling me into him, as if it was torturous to be cuddling with me even though it was him pulling me closer.
I sling my leg over his waist and roll over, straddling his hips.
“I can’t believe you ever thought you could reject me,” I scoff and he looks up at me with a knowing expression.
“Shh, sleep now.” He pulls me down onto his chest, my chin propping up on his sternum to stare up at him. “You can tease me all you want in the morning,” He promises as I stretch out, my legs intertwining with his.
“Sounds like a perfect plan.”
Tumblr media
General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @secretlyhers @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @mahealanipunea @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @andreperez11 @nerdy4itall @whatsupbi8
Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme @summerandsalt @annamariereads16
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
aweina · 11 months
Text
୨୧. honest eyes — mortal kombat one. kameos : raiden. johnny cage + kenshi takahashi & liu kang
when you stare at their hands for too long.
Tumblr media
raiden was confused at first. he was not dreaming, right? he knew his small crush on you could make him overthink certain interactions, but the more he quietly observed you, he realized that your mindless staring was in fact, reality. coming into terms with this realization was hard for raiden, dissecting every possible outcome as to why your unreadable gaze seemed so glued to him. ignoring this dilemma sounds more unnerving, offering him temporary peace, and so he did. but only then the limelight that you unintentionally showered over him the past few days left him flustered and somewhat clumsy. it only began to worsen when he caught your intense gaze on his quivering hands, the warm tea swishing around the small ceramic cup. silence fell between the two of you, with raiden watching your eyes drag over the fine details of his hands — rough from working in the fields yet gentle with anything he touched. “what’s so particular about my hands that you seem to like so much?” it took a bit of courage to ask, but he was pleased to see you gaze away nervously, sputter something incoherent, just like he would with you. maybe his crush wasn’t actually one-sided all along.
Tumblr media
johnny never seemed to notice your blatant staring, or so you thought. under the foggy lenses and his humorous exterior, his was incredibly sharp when it came to observing his surroundings — particularly you drooling over the sight of his hands. after making such a huge discovery, he has been absolutely insufferable and loud. the flirty little comments you’ve received became much bolder, he was more expressive with his hands — pointing things directly by your face and “casually” articulating them around every time he talked. he would even exaggeratedly stretch out his limbs as his ring gleaming under a nonexistent light — the wolf whistle was the cherry on top. despite all his teasing gestures, you still gazed hungrily over the callouses and subtle veins that swelled over his skin. with his strong fingers dancing along your knee, you try to keep his movement still, tracing over his hands carefully once he complied. “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he snickers at his own joke, but this was his idea after all. next time, he’ll make sure to get a few angles saved in his camera roll.
Tumblr media
kenshi has always been particularly tense when it came to unwanted attention. that’s why he instantly felt your lingering gaze — like he had a sixth sense. but confusion dawned upon him. what were you staring at? he learned to be cautious about his appearance, hiding his troubling past under long sleeve shirts and keeping a calm demeanor to not scare off others. yet you constantly assured him that his former affiliation with the yakuza didn’t bother you. it’s when he’s eating idly in the dinning hall of the academy, kenshi felt your unwavering eyes on him again. this time he followed the tilt of your head, noticing a blush on your blank features, and finally stopping at his rough tattooed hands. he’s heard of this before, a hand fetish? kenshi smirks knowingly, placing his utensils on the table as he raises a hand over your hard gaze. “if you wanted to look, you should’ve just asked.” he teases with a smile, lowering his hand to let let your fingertips ghost over his inked skin — something that he would never let anyone else do.
Tumblr media
liu kang did not need his divine intuition to notice your unwavering eyes — it was quite obvious and rather amusing. when he crafted this new timeline, he never suspected that you would ever see him in a certain light. although he usually wears hand wraps on a daily basis, there are rare occasions when he would rather continue his routine without a tight fit pressing fine lines onto his skin. with your curious presence sifting through the halls of the fire temple, liu kang feels it’s only natural to shred off the one thing that taunts your prying gaze. your subtle reactions to his rare exposure never failed to make him smile. now, you sit alongside the fire god in a daze — mesmerized by the veins and small cuts that decorated his hands. liu kang gently held your smaller hand, applying a soothing balm over your healing cut. his glowing eyes flicker to your lingering stare, openly gawking at his hands and periodically, dragging along his inked muscles. that’s when he suddenly broke out laughing, breaking you out of a trance. “your gaze never seems to falter, huh?” he keeps a firm grip on your hand when you try to flee away, basking in your flustered eyes.
Tumblr media
© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
2K notes · View notes
robin374 · 8 months
Text
Alastor with an artist S/O
Character: Alastor
Notes: First Hazbin Hotel hcs sorry if it's out of character.
Tumblr media
He might not show it, but he loves your paintings and your dedication to them. I feel like he would be a very observant person, so he didn't ignore the fact that you were always painting something in your canvas or drawing in your small sketchbook.
At first he thought that you were just entertaining yourself, because y'know, you're gonna be eternity down there. However, when he approached and saw the literal masterpiece that should belong in a museum that you were painting with those focused pretty eyes of yours, he felt as if he was in another universe, just you, him and the painting. In a world filled with suffering, massacres and anarchism, where everyone had to be really aware of their surroundings, your painting seemed to calm Alastor. He let his tensed body calm down a bit, not letting his elegant posture go away of course. It
Be prepared to be scared by him. He's always behind you watching you paint on your canvas, he wouldn't dare to say anything until you turn around in search of anything you forgot. Then, you will be met with his smiley face looking at you, "That's a pretty drawing! I reckon that tenebrism is your favourite technique?" You laughed a bit nervous, you never had thought that he had knowledge in art. "I guess that baroque is the closest movement to Hell." You answered.
And that exact moment, he knew that the happiness he was feeling wasn't because he just killed someone. It was because of you. He thought of that feeling for a very long time and realized his feelings towards you.
Since that day, you will always find new art material in your painting workshop. Sometimes a small note with a smiling face drawn with red ink.
He will often stop by your workshop/room to give you a small visit, and he always has a new compliment for you too. "I've heard that Lucifer wants you to paint his next family portrait!" It wasn't true at all, but he had planned to scare Charlie to convince her father to do so.
If he ever finds sketches of him in your notebook he will take that as a sign that his feelings are mutual, so he'll try to draw you next to that sketch and a small red heart above the two of you.
He's a hopeless romantic. Don't dare to tell me otherwise.
988 notes · View notes
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || You're Pregnant [Mafia Edition]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
Fem!Reader
CHAN:
You struggled against the cable ties that were wrapped around your wrists and bit down on your lip as you thought back to your morning with Chan. The two of you had gotten into an argument over babies, you were ready to have one and he told you it wasn't the time yet...but it was too late for that since you already knew you were pregnant. It had been an accident, a happy accident for you at least and you'd been trying to get an idea about what Chan could possibly think about it all when it turned into a huge argument. You'd stormed out and now you were sitting trapped inside of a jewellery store being held hostage while two idiots decided that they were going to try and rob the place. The silent alarm had been sounded judging by the amount of cop cars outside but you knew that they weren't exactly great at their job and you desperately wanted Chan here.
"What are you doing? They'll catch you," Kat hissed out as you continued to wriggle your hands around in the cable ties, slipping one hand free and smirking at her,
"Just shut up and tell me if they're coming," You mumbled at her carefully sliding the phone from your pocket and dialling Chan's number, You didn't even need to speak you just needed him to pick up the phone.
"AYE! We got a free one!" A voice cried out, within seconds you were dragged onto your feet and you kicked your phone to Kat who was quick to hide it.
"You just made yourself the token hostage, baby, you're going to be famous." The slimeball who was holding you whispered in your ear, biting down on your earlobe as you resisted the urge to fight back against him. Fighting someone who had a gun, as well as four friends with guns probably wasn't the best idea in the world.
"Open the doors, I want everyone to see us." He ordered two of his men before dragging you to the main entrance, a gun pressed against your temple as you did your best not to cry. 
"We want a clear passage out of here, no cops, we also want 50,000 in cash that's not inked or traceable!" He boomed, your eyes finding a camera as you stared into it. If Chan was watching he would come for you, he'd come and save you and everyone else inside.
"If I do not get what we asked for in the next hour, I'll start taking them out one by one, starting with this one." He yelled before dragging you back inside and throwing you down onto the floor beside Kat.
"He answered, he heard...These bastards won't know what hit them," Kat told you before you nodded weakly, hoping Chan had a plan to save everyone inside of this store.
[X]
"It's been 56 minutes, If they were going to give us what we wanted they would have done it by now," JP - one of the robbers said, They'd all begun to take off their masks clearly no longer bothered showing their names or faces anymore. 
"Then we'll show them I meant business," Lawson said as he pulled you up by your wrist, pushing you toward the door while you begged for him not to do this but before you could reach the doors they opened and Chan stood there.
"What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?" Lawson quizzed, his gun now pointed at your head as Chan looked at you,
"You okay baby? I came as soon as I could," He was far too calm about this and you didn't know if that scared you or excited you because it was easy to underestimate the men holding you hostage right now.
"I asked you a question!"Lawson screamed out making you flinch when you heard him cock the gun back,
"I suggest you let go of my wife, or you'll be down one man at a time,"
"Yeah like-" The shot rang out before Lawson could finish his sentence and people screamed as JP hit the ground.
"You have two seconds to let everyone go before I take you out as well," Chan suggested, still far too calm for your liking. 
"I don't answer to you!" He boomed before another shot rang out and you already knew Felix was somewhere doing these long-distance shots, there was no one else Chan would trust with it. Lawson's grip on you only tightened though,
"You have no one left," Chan moved closer to you and your eyes watered as you felt the gun slowly dropping toward your stomach.
"You took everything from me, so it's only fair I take her," Lawson growled out,
"HE CAN'T SHE'S PREGNANT!" Kat screamed out, it was enough time for a shot to ring out and hit Lawson in the shoulder, you scrambled away from him and over to Kat as Chan stared at you both in utter confusion. Cops rushed in taking Lawson while you stared at your husband, 
"Surprise?" You stuttered out as he held onto your waist, he'd always wanted kids but was it even time? You were still in danger, anything could have happened to you.
"We need to get you somewhere safe, somewhere no one can hurt you or our baby," You stared at him as you nodded,
"Sure, but...aren't you mad? Excited? Anything?" You were terrified this was going to ruin everything between you, it wasn't how you wanted to tell him you were pregnant but here you were.
"Of course I'm excited...Starting a family with you?!" His eyes were starting to tear up and he whimpered a little,
"But we need to figure things out, more protection, everything...Let's go home," He told you, wrapping you in his arms as you cuddled into him a little.
MINHO:
Ever since Minho had found out that you were pregnant he had been going above and beyond for you and your unborn child. The two of you attended every single scan together, as well as every class...Every...Class. Any class that was available it appeared as though Minho was right there signing you up for it and you couldn't get away from them all.
"What is this?" You questioned, staring down at the one-eyed baby doll that was screaming loudly like someone had dropped it in front of you while your husband smiled proudly. The baby was still continuing to scream out as its one eye opened and shut every now and again, it was starting to freak you out a little.
"They're like little robots, We take care of them during this lesson to see what kind of parents we'll be and then at the end, they'll tell us what we can improve on." You blinked at your husband, when he took you out of the house today it was with a promise of mint chocolate chip ice cream, something you'd been craving desperately all morning long.
"I was promised ice cream," You reminded him of what he'd told you that you'd come out of the house for. It was the only reason you were dressed in dirty sweatpants and a shirt covered in stains because you were told Ice cream and home.
"After the lesson, we need this." He told you with a slight stutter to his voice.
"Do you think I'm going to be a bad mum? Is that why you keep bringing me to lessons?" You whimpered a little, tears rolling down your cheeks as you realised what all of this was about. It was the only explanation for all of the classes he'd been signing you up for, he thought you were going to be a bad mum.
"No! No...No baby," He put both his hands on your shoulders trying to make you look at him but you refused to, instead, you chose to move away from the table and whine at him. 
"Clearly you think that. That's why you're so insistent on every class you see," You sniffled, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe your cheeks before Minho let out a low sigh.
"It's not you that I think is going to be a bad parent." And that was when it hit you. All of the classes had mostly male parents that were in attendance and you remembered one of them asking Minho why he was there and Minho had been really shady about it.
"Minnie..." You cooed out, running your hand over his cheek in a soothing manner.
"You're going to be a fantastic father," You whispered but he scoffed at you.
"I'll barely be home and when I am, what if I do something wrong? What if I don't know the temperature I need the bath water at? What if they grow up and hate me." Tears were now dripping down his face and you smiled a little to see your tough husband showing his vulnerable side.
"First of all, they could never hate you and secondly baby, you can't get it wrong but if you get confused I am right there to help," You told him as he nodded at you, slowly looking you in the eyes.
"Let's go get ice cream and go home?" you suggested before he nodded once again taking your hand in his and heading out of the room.
CHANGBIN:
You'd known that you were pregnant for a while but you'd been doing everything within your power to hide it from your husband which was getting consistently harder to do. It wasn't that you didn't want him to know but you already knew what was going to happen as soon as he found out. You could kiss your freedom goodbye, there was no way you were going to be able to go out shopping with your friends anymore, Changbin was going to turn into that overprotective man and as much as you loved him, you wanted your freedom as well.
"I'm calling the doctor," He told you as he watched you from the bathroom door, you were hunched over the toilet bowl throwing up and it was starting to worry your husband. For the last four days, you'd been throwing up and it was starting to scare him but whenever he asked you about it you told him that it was nothing. 
"I'm fine," You groaned, flushing the toilet and sitting up straight leaning against the bathtub and looking at your husband who was looking a little pale. 
"You're being sick a lot, you can't be fine." He knelt down on the floor in front of you, reaching for the bottle of water and handing it to you. You could tell how much this was worrying him and you let out a small sigh, it was obvious that you were going to have to tell him the truth.
"I'll be fine because I know what's wrong with me," You mumbled, using the edge of the bath to help yourself stand up and move out of the bathroom and into the bedroom where you could sit down and talk.
"You're scaring me," He admitted once you sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand into yours, You squeezed it softly while looking up at him.
"Binnie, I have to be honest with you." You swallowed the lump that was in your throat and tried to think of the best way to tell him this. You knew he would be excited about it but maybe a little angry that you'd kept it a secret for two months now.
"I'm pregnant." You said it quickly enough that Changbin was almost sure he hadn't heard you correctly, his eyes staring into your face.
"What?" He stuttered a little, he'd been wanting to have a baby for a long time, The two of you had been trying for a very long time and he was worried it was something wrong with him that you weren't able to conceive.
"I'm two months pregnant and I didn't tell you because I was scared if I did you weren't going to let me leave the house," He stared at you still in a complete state of shock as he thought about what you'd just said to him.
"Babe...Say something, please?" You begged as he nodded his head a little acknowledging that he'd heard what you said but that he was still processing everything.
"A baby? Our little baby?" He ran his hand over to your stomach, your bump wasn't even there yet but you smiled placing your hand on top of his on your stomach.
"Our baby. You're not mad at me, for hiding it?"He shook his head at you quickly kissing your temple
"I could never be mad at you, but you are right about one thing." He told you as he chuckled a little.
"You're not leaving the house without extra protection," You laughed a little and nodded your head. At least if there was more protection around you, you could still go out into the world. A few more bodyguards weren't going to hurt you.
HYUNJIN:
From the moment that Hyunjin found out about your pregnancy, it was like something switched inside of him. He'd turned into a slight control freak when it came to your safety and you'd suddenly been ripped away from your world.
"Are you going to let me out anytime soon?" You quizzed your husband as you stared at him, he'd just come home from a supply run and smiled at you.
"Once our son or daughter is born, yes." You sighed at him, you knew he was just doing this to protect you but you were going insane. Seven months of the same walls and you were beginning to question your sanity at this point.
"Hyunjin...I'm going to go crazy if you keep me locked up." You wanted him to realise how bad it was for you to be trapped here for so long. He'd hidden you from everyone, only those who NEEDED to know about the pregnancy did, your family, some of the staff in the house and your guards. Other than that it was hidden from the world, Hyunjin didn't want to risk someone trying to hurt him or his child.
"You get to go out." He reminded you as you stared at him. Going to your scans and classes didn't exactly give you the kind of freedom you were after. You missed going shopping for yourself, going out and doing things during the day instead you were stuck inside.
"To appointments and then it's back here. I miss the outdoors," You mumbled at him, looking at the painting supplies he'd just bought back for you. Ever since you'd been locked inside of the house you'd found more and more time to paint out your feelings and you'd eventually run out of paint. 
"I'm seven months pregnant, please, I need fresh air." You begged with him but he stared at you, nothing was going to change his mind on this.
"You have the back garden." He grumbled, sitting on the sofa as you stared down at him, Maybe it was the hormones making you extra crabby today but you weren't in the mood for his games.
"I could kill you in your sleep." You reminded him as he smirked up at you,
"Cute, but we both know you wouldn't. You love me too much," He winked at you but you continued to glare at him, folding your arms across your chest and shaking your head.
"Not if you don't let me go out. I'll leave you."
"Yn." He said in a warning tone, putting down the book he'd picked up but you shook your head at him, if that was what it was going to take for him to take you seriously then so be it.
"Seriously, Hyunjin. I need to get out. I need to get away, just somewhere please." It was beneath you to beg your husband for something and his heart shattered a little.
"I'll organise something," He told you with a small smile on his face, he was sure he could take you to the beach house for a few days without someone seeing.
"More than an hour." You warned him and he smirked at you.
"How does three nights sound? At the beach house, just us..." You screamed before practically throwing yourself on your husband's lap and pampering his face with kisses.
JISUNG:
"You look bored," Jisung whispered in your ear, the two of you were attending Jeongin's wives' event tonight and you were a little bored, to say the least. Everyone else was drinking and having fun while you were drinking orange juice or water trying not to seem suspicious about it. You'd known you were pregnant for about six weeks now and it was getting harder and harder to hide it from your husband. Just last week he'd been trying to get you to have some sushi as well as trying to take you to a new deli that was opening and you'd done everything you could to get out of it.
"You're not drinking, that's why." He chuckled before handing you a glass of champagne and waiting for you to drink from it but you just stared at it.
"I can't," You lied putting it down onto the table in front of you and smiling warmly at him. You hoped he'd drop the subject, the last thing you wanted was to announce your pregnancy at a party, No, you wanted to do it privately with him. You'd even ordered some items to help you tell him that you were pregnant, you were going to put a small bag together with baby growth inside as well as a mug that read "best daddy ever" on it so he could take it to work with him.
"Why? Are you sick again?" Concern seeped through his voice as he placed his own glass down and held onto your hands. He'd heard you throwing up the other week and ever since he'd been calling every day to check up on you and make sure you were okay.
"No, I'm fine. I'm just not in the mood for it," You smiled trying to seem as convincing as possible but it was clear your husband wasn't going to drop the subject.
"I'm going to use the little girl's room." You told him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you slowly got up and left him alone with his thoughts. You were sick, refusing alcohol and even some foods and that was when it hit him. 
"Oh my god," He hissed out, rushing after you as he tried to follow you into the toilets.
[x]
"Jisung!" You cried out as he shoved out the last remaining women that were inside the hotel bathrooms with you. There was a guard manning the door on the outside to make sure no one else came in while he spoke to you.
"You're pregnant!" Your eyes widened as you stared at him. How did he even know? You'd done everything within your power to make sure no one else knew except for you.
"Jisung?"
"It makes sense, you wouldn't eat certain foods, you keep peeing more frequently, you won't drink and you've been sick." You hated him in that moment, you hated that he found out and this was how he was talking to you about it.
"You weren't supposed to find out this way." You pouted out your bottom lip and he chuckled bringing you into a tight hug.
"How would you have told me?" He quizzed, and you stared up at him before explaining the details of your plan.
FELIX:
You hadn't been trying for a baby which was why it was surprising to you when you suddenly found out that you were expecting your first child with Felix. You hadn't told him yet, you were waiting for the right time but you'd been buying some things for your son or daughter and keeping them locked in the spare bedroom. You'd bought lots of shoes and clothes whenever you were out and saw something you wanted.
"What are you doing?" Felix questioned as he walked into the spare bedroom to find you crying on the floor over a box of stuff. You'd been acting weird for weeks now and he was starting to worry that you were going to leave him. You were quick to shut the box and wipe your eyes,
"Nothing, I was just looking at old photos." You lied and Felix could already tell you were lying to him, he'd been with you long enough now to know when you were lying to him.
"Are you packing things up to leave me?" You stared at him and frowned,
"What?" Leave him? Why would you ever leave him? The man was the love of your life, the two of you would fight and bicker but that was like every couple.
"You've been acting weird for weeks...I-If you want to leave, I won't stop you but...But please, tell me what I can do to make things better." He knelt down beside you and you stared at him, whimpering a little at the thought of him thinking you could ever leave.
"Lix, I could never leave you." You whispered, placing your hand on his cheek making him look at you with a saddened expression on his face.
"Then...Why are you being so secretive and weird?" You shifted away from him a little and pushed the box between you, you were going to have to tell him sooner or later and since you didn't know how to begin you figured this was the best way.
"I'm pregnant and I didn't know how to tell you." You explained as he slowly lifted the box open and his eyes landed on everything you had inside. There were so many pieces of clothes and shoes, the box was too full now and you'd been crying over it which seemed silly looking at it now.
"We're going to have a baby?" Felix couldn't hide the excitement in his voice as he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with so much joy.
"Y-Yeah and I know we weren't trying but this is a good thing...We're going to have a family," You sniffled as the tears began to stream down your face once again, this time Felix wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to sit on his lap.
"We're going to have a baby," He breathed out, smiling brightly as he began to think of all the things you needed to do together to get ready for your little bundle of joy to be here.
SEUNGMIN:
"Mr and Mrs Kim, it's so lovely to see you." The car salesman said as you and Seungmin walked through the building. The two of you were on the hunt for a new car and you had both been extra picky with what you were looking for. It wasn't as though you had none back home but this was an anniversary gift, according to your husband at least. You didn't want to spend too much but it appeared as though he wanted to go above and beyond for you. 
"It's lovely to see you too, can we go and talk in your office?" Seungmin asked as one of the ladies who worked inside made her way over to you. Elsie, she'd been working here for years and you knew her thanks to your husband who liked to shop for cars.
"Here," She handed you a small mug of hot chocolate and you smiled, the two of you leaving the men to talk as you walked around all of the cars together.
"We got the new Mustang in, do you want to sit in it?" She giggled holding up the keys, your eyes lit up as you rushed with her to go and find it. You'd never really been into cars but you knew when one was pretty and you liked to see them but as you opened the door you let out a small groan. The smell of the leather seats made you feel sick instantly and you backed away from the door holding your hand over your nose,
"You doing okay?" Elsie questioned nervously, she knew the car was cleaned since she'd just finished cleaning it the night before.
"Yeah, just smells are getting to me a lot lately." You mumbled, shutting the car door not being able to stand the smell of the leather.
"Oh? Are your boobs a little sore...And does your back hurt?" You stared at her as she listed off everything you'd been feeling for the last few weeks and you nodded
"Yeah, I thought it was a bug so I've been trying to rest a lot." Elsie could see straight through it though, it wasn't just some bug or the flu you were clearly pregnant. 
"Oh gosh, no...Follow me," The two of you joined hands as you ran toward her office where she began rooting through the bottom of her drawer.
"Take this to the bathroom and I'll call Mr. Kim in for you." She placed the package in your hand before you had time to question her on it and you frowned glancing down at the blue package.
[X]
Two minutes were passing by slower and slower and you were beginning to freak out a little with how calm Seungmin was being about all of this.
"How can you be so calm?!" You freaked out, pacing around inside the bathroom as you waited for your timer to sound and let you know that the two of you could look. Seungmin was sitting on top of the bathroom counters watching you closely, the car dealership had shut down this bathroom so that the two of you could do this privately with one another.
"I want a baby," He shrugged, it had been his dream to have a family with you and now it was finally coming true. Sure, the two of you hadn't exactly been trying but it was obvious that if it was meant to be then it was going to be.
"I do too...B-But are we ready?"
"We'll have to be," He chuckled snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you to stand between his legs your breathing calming down almost instantly as you stared at him. Seungmin moved his hands to your face and cupped your cheeks,
"We're going to be amazing parents," He promised you as the timer sounded, both of you letting out a deep sigh before looking at the test. A smiley face displayed on the screen with the words "pregnant" making your heart race as you looked at him.
JEONGIN: 
"I want this place spotless!" You called out to the event hall of your hotel, everyone inside was rushing around at the last second to make sure everything was perfect for you. You placed your hand on your stomach and watched as one of your guards - Carlos - made his way over to you with some snacks,
"You're going to make it obvious," You mumbled to him as you took the crisps from him and started to eat from the packet. It seemed as though ever since you'd hit the 6-week mark of your pregnancy you'd been craving crisps or anything that was savoury and Carlos had been the man to help you. Mostly because he was the only other person who knew about it and he only knew because he found you crying in your office whilst holding the stick.
"I think it should be obvious. Too much stress isn't good for the baby and have you told Mr Yang yet?" Carlos was far too comfortable with you, you thought maybe it was time to switch him for another guard but you'd grown comfortable with him also and you enjoyed your talks together.
"No." You mumbled with a mouthful of crisps, shaking your head at him. All week long he'd been trying to get you to tell Jeongin about the pregnancy but you were nervous about it. You knew if he found out he was only going to stop you from working the event that your hotel was hosting and that was the last thing you wanted
"Don't you think you should?" He raised his brow at you but you mumbled what he said back to him in a mocking tone and walked toward your office. You opened the door and stared at Carlos with a weak smile,
"I'll tell him when the time is right after the event is over." You shrugged not realising that Jeongin was standing inside of your office and Carlos held back the smirk. He'd known about Jeongin coming to visit you and it was his intention to try to get him to overhear everything,
"Tell who what when the time is right?" You cringed as you heard Jeongin and you glared at Carlos.
"You're a betrayer and I hate you." You mumbled slamming the door in his face and making your way toward the chair behind your desk.
"Is there something I should know?"
"No. It's nothing, it's just Carlos worrying for nothing." You hated the fact that you were lying to your husband but you needed to make sure you worked this event. You'd been planning it for months now and you weren't going to let Jeongin or anyone else take it away from you.
"Is it about your pregnancy?" Your hand paused midway to your mouth and the crisps fell from your grasp,
"How-" Your heart sank as you thought about him finding out through someone else but you. The last thing you ever wanted was for him to be upset but he didn't seem it in the slightest, in fact, he seemed rather happy.
"Please, you've been eating crisps non-stop, you're throwing up and not to mention some of the maids were gossiping about it when they found the test in your trash." Jeongin had known for weeks and at first, he was a little upset that you hadn't come to him but he could understand why.
"Those little rats," You mumbled to yourself, sighing and looking at him, suddenly feeling the guilt take over you as you whimpered a little.
"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd stop me working."
"Did I?" He smirked, raising a brow at you. Sure, at first he wanted to stop you from doing everything but he knew that would only make you worse and neither of you wanted that.
"Well, no, but-"
"I won't stop you working but as soon as I see you stressing that's when I'll put a stop to things." He reached his hand over the desk and squeezed yours softly, 
"Thank you," You whispered, smiling a little as you thought about it.
"We can go shopping this weekend...I have my first scan in a week, after the event." You told him as he nodded at you, this he already knew since he'd called doctors to get things ready for you.
Tumblr media
Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @lost-leopard-beanie @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
filmsmakkari · 2 months
Text
your highness
fred weasley x slytherin!reader
Summary: When Slytherin beats Gryffindor in the final quidditch match of the season, Fred Weasley decides to give the Slytherin princess a little reward
CW: NSFW, semi public sex(?), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praising.
Author's Note- As usual, I had a black reader in mind, so (Y/N) is described as having braids, but that's the only physical description. Anyone can imagine themselves in this fic. Also emmm I have never written smut in my life saurrr... I hope this makes you horny and I'm sorry if it doesn't!
Tumblr media
To say that (Y/N) (L/N) hated Fred Weasley would be an understatement.
The Princess of Slytherin was in the prefect’s restroom, trying to wash the red and gold dye out of her hair. The last quidditch game of the autumn term was the next day, and Fred fucking Weasley thought it would be funny to make a mockery of the Slytherin team captain by having Peeves throw ink at her as she tried to run down the moving staircases. 
“That bloody…” she muttered as she roughly scrubbed her scalp. She’d been at it for what felt like hours when the dye finally washed away, and the raven-winged color of her long braids was finally visible again. 
Enraged, (Y/N) stomped out of the bathroom, envisioning ways to get her revenge. In her anger and fantasies of all the means of torture she could inflict upon the irritating prankster, she was barely aware of her feet carrying her down to the ever-calming bioluminescence of the  Slytherin common room. She waved her wand violently, blowing around a stack of papers and knocking over a desk, catching the attention of Blaise Zabini. 
The boy seemed slightly frightened as he said, “Hey (Y/N/N), you alright?”
(Y/N) huffed with irritation. “Oh, I’m more than alright. I’m ready to knock Weasley off his bloody broom.”
-
The Great Hall was alive with conversation. Some students excitedly cast charms, creating fireworks with their house colors and animals, while others feasted on fruits and vegetables in preparation for the big match. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor games were always the most anticipated. The extreme disdain between the two teams brought out the absolute best in them as players. Even if it was occasionally violent, it made for a great game. 
Fred and George Weasley sauntered into the hall with the typical swagger of Gryffindors, scanning the tables and admiring the displays from the students. As Fred eyed the Slytherin table, his gaze fell upon her. There in her quidditch sweater, brown knee-high boots, and a horribly tempting skirt, the Slytherin Princess, who’d earned her title by getting the best grades in her house, being captain of the quidditch team, and being so ridiculously beautiful that even the proudest Gryffindors tried their luck with her, was sitting on the table, locked in conversation with Blaise Zabini and Emma Vanity- the Slytherin chasers.
“Discussing a new and improved strategy for the pitch?” Fred asked, approaching her. “I might as well tell you now, you’re wasting your time.”
(Y/N) turned to him with an eye roll.  “Keep taunting me, Weasel. It’s the most satisfaction you’ll get today.”
“Keep dreaming. Tell me, how’d you like my little gift yesterday?” Fred asked, resting his hands on the table and leaning close to her face.
(Y/N) hummed. “To be honest I’d expected more from you, beater. You couldn’t even do the job yourself. That scared of little old me?” 
“You wish. You’ll see out there today. Tell you what. If you win, which you won’t, I’ll reward you,” Fred smirked.
“Please, what could you possibly have that I want?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Too bad you’ll never find out.” Fred winked and walked over to the Gryffindor table, filling (Y/N) with so much irritation that it made her face hot.
-
Fred Weasley was eating his words.
The match was over before it began, the Slytherin players flying like bullets, (Y/N) ’s strategy working to absolute perfection, giving (Y/N) the perfect opportunity to catch the snitch without hesitation, winning the last game of the season.
The after-party was a blur of green and silver, fireworks, and cheering. One second (Y/N) was being hoisted up in the air by her teammates while they chanted her name; the next, she was playing games with giggle juice and fire whisky with her classmates. The snake lair was on fire with passion and excitement. While (Y/N) was reveling in it all, she had another celebration in mind. While her friends chanted so loud that the paintings were all forced to cover their ears, (Y/N) quickly slipped out of the common room and skipped happily up the stairs with a clear destination in mind.
As the sleeping form of the fat lady came into view, (Y/N) suddenly realized she had no actual plan. She couldn’t get into the Gryffindor common room, and even if she could, what would she do? Find Weasley in his dorm room and slap him? Cast a spell turning all the furniture silver and green to boast Slytherin pride? Steal Fred’s clothes while he was in the shower and- oh. Somewhat embarrassed at how eager she’d been to go to the Gryffindor common room and at how her thoughts kept wandering back to Fred, (Y/N) quickly turned around and began to go back to her dorm but was quickly stopped in her tracks.
Standing before her was the very person who’d been nagging at her thoughts all night. There was Fred Weasley, with dripping wet red hair and no shirt, looking down on her with irritation and amusement.
“Well well,” he said tauntingly, stepping closer and closer to her until her back was pressed against the wall. “Just what is the snake princess doing so close to the lion’s den? Came here to gloat?” Heat was radiating off of him. He was angry about the match.
(Y/N) swallowed, suddenly nervous, her usual Slytherin pride and confidence nowhere to be found. “As a matter of fact, Weaselbee, I’m here to see you. I told you I’d win, I’m here to claim my reward.”
Fred raised an eyebrow at this. He walked over to the fat lady, knocking on the portrait softly. The fat lady awoke with a jump, giving Fred a frustrated glare.  “Sorry about this,” said Fred. “Iced Mice.” The fat lady hesitated. “And just what are you doing bringing her in here?”
(Y/N)’ s bite finally returned as she spoke, “I can show you better than I can tell you. How about a charm for taking the tongues of bad singers?” Fred chuckled at that.
“Why, I never!” said the fat lady as she finally swung open the door.
Fred took hold of (Y/N) ’s hand as he walked in, dragging her behind him.
(Y/N)’ s words were full of venom as she whisper-shouted, “Just what do you think you’re doing, you slimy-”
“Just be quiet for once, princess.”
Indignation swelled in (Y/N) ’s chest, but she obeyed. Though she toothlessly fought back, attempting every now and then to snatch her arm away from him, deep down, she wanted to see where this would go.
Fred dragged her to a dark corner, taking her by her hips and lifting her onto a desk. 
“What the hell are you doing?” (Y/N) asked with a furious look, but there was no bite behind the glare. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid he’d hear it. 
“You came for your reward, didn’t you? You were so desperate for it that you were willing to cheat during the match,” he said, moving her hair and leaning into her ear.
(Y/N) shuddered at the closeness before pushing him away. “I didn’t cheat, Weasley, the hell are you talking about?”
Fred hummed, smoking at her and placing his arms on either side of her, caging her in.
(Y/N) scoffed. “This is ridiculous, I can’t believe I wasted my time coming here. Have a nice life carrot top.”
(Y/N) pushed him again, hopping off the desk and starting to walk away from him, but Fred quickly grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back into him and placing a wet, passionate kiss on her lips. (Y/N)’ s eyes widened in shock as Fred Weasley, the person she hated most since first year, slipped his tongue into her mouth and lifted her back onto the desk. Shocked and confused, she pushed him away a third time.
Fred looked deeply into her eyes, a tendril of red hair hanging over his eyes, making him impossibly more attractive. “Oh c’mon, love, don’t act like you don’t want it too. Like you haven’t wanted it since fourth year when you walked in on me showering after the quidditch cup.”
(Y/N)’s face got hot at the memory. “I hate you. You hate me. I’m the “princess of Slytherin,” remember?”
“Well then, your highness, allow me to serve you,” said Fred, dropping to his knees.
“What are you doing?” (Y/N) asked, her voice shaking as Fred ran his hands up and down her thighs, barely past her skirt. The tight little green dress and those white knee-high socks she was wearing had been driving him crazy since he first saw them, and he wanted nothing more than to see what was hidden underneath them.
“I’m rewarding you, even if you did cheat like a naughty little serpent, somehow I feel like this will be just as much as a reward for me.” He spread her legs wide, getting in between them and slowly peeling back her skirt.
(Y/N) breathed in sharply. “You have tormented me for six years, and now you expect me to let you use me to get off?’ 
“‘M sorry,” said Fred, kissing her thigh softly. (Y/N) shuddered. Fred kissed his way up to her sopping wet heat, muttering “I’m sorries” between every kiss. He finally made his way to her lacy undergarment, placing a soft kiss there. “You’re so wet, darling,” he said, popping his head out and looking at her, “It seems like you’ve already forgiven me.”
“In your bloody dreams, Weasley,” (Y/N) said with an unconvincing scoff. “I’ll hate you until the day I die.”
Fred hummed before quickly dipping his head back between her thighs, sliding her panties to the side, and licking a long stripe through her slick.
(Y/N) let out a throaty moan at the sensation, gripping the desk tightly. 
Fred chuckled against her, the vibrations making her breathe in deeply. “What was that about you hating me, love?” he asked.
“Shut up and get on with my reward, asshole.”
Fred smirked. “As you wish, your grace.”
Fred grabbed her thighs tightly and went to work, taking her clit into his mouth and sucking it like a starving man. (Y/N) moaned loudly before placing her hand over her mouth. Fred looked up at her, his sudden pause making her whimper. “No, no, no, darling. Don’t hide the noises.” He slowly pushed a single long finger inside her. “Let the whole school know.” Another finger. He looked into her eyes with a wicked smile. “Let them all hear how the snake princess let a lion make her scream.” He added two fingers that time and rapidly pumped in and out. And, just as he said she would, (Y/N) screamed. She went to cover her mouth again, but with his free hand, he took both of her wrists and held them in front of her. It burned, but it felt so good. (Y/N) began to move her hips slightly to increase the sensation, making Fred smile. “That’s it, beautiful, good girl. Good girl.” Fred spoke in a way that was almost patronizing. If she weren’t so close to the edge, she probably would have made some snarky remark, but (Y/N) couldn’t think straight as the pressure in her stomach was building up, and the Weasley boy was making her see stars. She let out another loud moan, throwing her head back as the pressure became unbearable. 
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” (Y/N) screamed as Fred’s fingers slammed into her g-spot, and she finally couldn’t take it anymore. (Y/N) let out a scream as she came, barely aware of anything around her. Her vision went blurry as the hot juices spilled out of her. Fred wasted no time re-attaching his mouth to her drenched cunt, licking up her juices until she was clean. “Mmm, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Surprising for such a nasty girl,” Fred said, slapping her thigh, sliding her panties back over, and standing up.
He placed his arms on either side of her, staring at her intensely, his hair disheveled and her cum around his mouth. (Y/N) matched his gaze with equal intensity, her heart pounding, a million questions running through her head. After a few beats of silence, she finally spoke. 
“I still hate you.”
Fred actually laughed at that, shaking his head before looking back at her. “Beat me again, princess, and I’ll give you a better reward then my fingers and my  mouth,” he rasped into her ear before walking off to his dorm room, leaving her with her legs spread on a table of the Gryffindor common room.
“We’ll see how much you hate me then!”
383 notes · View notes
cumikering · 6 months
Text
Neighbour Ghost x reader 3
2.9k | fluff To him, nothing existed outside the walls of his favourite flat (part 1) (part 4)
When was the last time Simon was this on edge about meeting someone? Probably when he first met his captain when he joined the SAS, about to take the CQB test.
What was he even nervous about this time? This was no first impression - he already scared you the first time you met. He was lucky you still wanted to talk to him after. If he were you, he probably would avoid the huge, grim-faced bloke with the horrible dad jokes.
That Sunday evening, wearing a crisp button down, he knocked on your door and waited. He had his sleeves rolled up his forearms, trimmed his scruff that morning, even put on some cologne, but as he stood there he realised he never explicitly stated this was a date.
Did he need to? He wanted it to be without having to say it. He knew assumptions were the leading cause of misunderstandings, but would you still want to go if it was?
You emerged from your flat with a sweet smile, wearing a cute dress and pretty heels, all dolled up for the evening. You looked like you were ready for a date. Was this a date?!
He blinked, the fabric of his shirt strained slightly across his chest as he breathed in. “You look lovely.”
Your smile widened. “Thanks. You look nice yourself.” Your gaze lingered, but he hoped not because you thought he was trying too hard.
In front of his car, he silently offered you his arm. He wasn’t even looking at you, but he heard your faint chuckle when you took it to walk up to the restaurant.
“I’ve got a reservation for 2 under Simon Riley,” he answered the young host.
“Mr. Riley…” He repeated as he went through the tablet. “I’m sorry, perhaps a different name?”
Simon pulled out his email confirmation.
The host squinted at the phone and upon realisation widened his eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. There must be a mistake on our end. Your name isn’t on the list.” He blinked. “We’re uh- we’re fully booked tonight.”
“Can you please check again? Or is there a way you can squeeze us in?”
The host winced, and at this point he reckoned it was more from scrutiny of his stare rather than the unfortunate error.
“I’m terribly sorry, but we’re booked solid, sir.” He swallowed. “May I let you know if something opens up?”
No, no, no. His first night out with you wasn’t going to be ruined. Did he have to intimidate someone into giving up their table? He knew he could.
“It’s okay, Simon, we can go elsewhere,” you reassured, your hand still on the crook of his arm.
No, he didn’t want to go anywhere else! He wanted this. You wanted this.
You thanked the host and led the defeated soldier out, rubbing his inked forearm. On the pavement, absolutely gutted, he turned to you, shoulders sagging.
“Hey, isn’t that famous taco shop nearby? Just down the street, I think?” You looked up at him. “Been meaning to try it. Do you like Mexican?”
It didn’t matter what he liked. “We can get anything you want.”
Your warm hand remained on him the short walk to the place. Unfortunately, it was packed, leaving no table left so you got the meal to-go. He felt terrible - you got all dolled up for his plans to go sideways, only ending up with tacos in the car.
You nudged him with your elbow. “Don’t look so sad, Simon. We can pretend this is round two, the late-night snack because the fancy dinner wasn’t filling enough.”
He glanced at you, your smile bright as you looked up the sky, your hair danced to your steps. He smiled to himself. At least the weather was nice, and most importantly, you were there. His for the evening.
“Oh, those are humongous!” you gasped, steps coming to an abrupt stop.
He followed your line of sight to the bright display of a tucked away cookie shop. You tugged on his hand as you made your way there. He chuckled lightly as you revelled in the selection, leaving with four hefty cookies roughly the size of his palm (which you fought him to pay for).
You beamed up at him when he took your hand which fitted perfectly in his. He wished the walk to the car was further so you didn’t have to let go so soon.
While dinner delighted you, Simon was trying his best to pretend the coriander in his mouth didn’t taste like soap. His eyes closed as he breathed in deeply.
“Simon, you should have told me you don’t like tacos.” You grimaced.
“At least you’re enjoying yours.”
“I am, but it’s no fun if you don’t! You eat each in two bites, and chew like you’re trying not to throw up.
“’m fine.” He’d had far worse in the field.
“You need to tell me if you don’t like something next time, okay?”
He hoped there would be a next time.
“Should we get you something else? You can’t tell me you’re full.”
He sighed and gave you a sheepish smile. “Maybe Chinese near the flat?”
You laughed. “You’ve got good taste.
While Simon got the takeaway, you headed to your flat. He figured he might as well get changed into more comfortable clothes to enjoy his dinner in, still annoyed by how the evening turned into another mediocre night in.
His mum popped out of his kitchen with a mug of steaming hot tea, grinning. “Si, the cookies are mint. You should have taken me there!”
Oh? You’d raved about them, but the two you saved were for his mum? Why did you have to be this kind? So generous, even after the lame evening.
When he made his way to yours, you’d left your door unlocked. You lounged on the couch, your hair still damp, watching a baking show.
“What’s this?” He sat next to you.
“Great British Bake Off. Have you seen?”
He shook his head. “Don’t watch a lot of TV.”
“The cookies put me in such a baking mood.”
He scarfed his meal down in silence, simply grateful this round didn’t taste funny.  When he was done, he brushed against your arm as he placed the empty takeaway box on the coffee table. He casually stretched his arm along the back of the couch, and you scooted closer, pressing against his muscled thigh. The couch didn’t feel so small anymore, but he needed it to be even smaller.
The steak dinner might have failed, but this wasn’t bad at all - staying in, enjoying your quiet company like this. Maybe you didn’t mind his presence after all.
While this sort of show was not his first pick at all, to his surprise, the calmness mesmerised him. Despite the tense nature of a competition, the show was serene and kindly. You were right - it was quite inspiring. Although he couldn’t help but laugh when the sweet Merry Berry earnestly said ‘soggy bottom’ when judging the contestants’ pies.
Simon peered at you. He’d never learnt to cook beyond turning things edible, let alone bake anything, but watching deft hands peeling, slicing, rolling and braiding was hypnotising to say the least. He wondered when you we’re going to bake again because he’d love to watch you and your delicate hands again.
Should he get the apples? Would you knock on his door with another pie if he did? If he could do it all again, he’d have leant in to kiss you instead of leaning against the doorframe to scare you.
When the episode came to an end, he excused himself for the night. It was later than the time he usually left, but losing a little sleep over your company was worth it.
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask where you got your hoodies. They look so thick and comfortable.”
“They’re from this shop near the base. Would you like one?”
“I’d love that! Could you take one of mine for size reference?”
He nodded and you went to retrieve your hoodie from your room.
“Please don’t judge! It’s my favourite.”
With a small smile, he took the old and faded hoodie from you, knowing it had the most soul. “They’re the best when they’re worn, yeah?”
Back at base, Simon placed your possession carefully in his wardrobe. It felt oddly intimate to be trusted with your clothing, especially your favourite, like it didn’t belong in his cold and dark room. But as he lay in bed, he wondered why he didn’t kiss you on the cheek, or anywhere you allowed him, really.
He turned to his wardrobe. You wouldn’t mind terribly if he kept your hoodie on his bed, would you? He stifled a smile when he laid it next to his pillow. He thought of the movies you watched wearing said hoodie, the teas you sipped. He wondered if you’ve danced in it alone in your kitchen, and to which songs, and what you were cooking.
That night, in the silence he didn’t want to break, he sighed softly. Things could be alright after all.
While Simon had been busy that week, he could leave base on time that Friday and arranged dinner with you (and his mum too, of course). He even had some time to drop by the hoodie shop to get you one (you didn’t need to know he got the exact same one for himself), although he was a little gutted that he didn’t have an excuse to have your hoodie with him anymore.
He picked you up from work before driving to his mum. He was excited to present you the gift which sat in his backseat, but he figured he’d do it later at the end of the night at yours. You patted his forearm when you got in the car, and he just couldn’t look away from your smile. Your hands lay idle on your thighs during the drive and he itched to grab one. He prayed for a moment, an excuse, an opportunity.
But when he pulled up at the bakery, from the large window, his eyes narrowed at the scene in the usually peaceful shop. His mum stood behind the counter, hands clenched over her chest, next to an elderly man who was shouting at another man in front of the counter.
Rage flared in the lieutenant. He slammed his door shut and stormed into the shop, throwing the door against the wall.
The man in question turned at the interruption. It was the devil of Simon’s nightmares, Mr. Riley, eyes wide as he registered the sight of the livid 6ft 4 soldier. Simon strode across the room and took a huff of breath before pulling his fist back. The blow knocked his dad straight onto the floor.
“Simon!” his mum gasped.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he spat at his dad who cowered from him.
“I’m- I’m just trying to apologise. I know I was wrong for what I did.” He held his skinny hands up, as if they could protect him against his son’s wrath. “I’m a changed man, Simon.”
A changed man? Yeah, right.
“What you’ve done is unforgivable, and the least you can do is leave her alone,” he said through gritted teeth. He pulled his fist back again, and his dad closed his eyes in resignation.
“Si, no. He’s made enough of a scene.” His mum pulled him by the shoulder. “Come on, Si. Don’t get yourself in trouble for him.”
He heaved, pausing, but his fist didn’t relent. Still pulled back, like the string of a bow more than ready to snap, the tension in his arm aching. But he remembered you were there, witnessing everything, how the illusion that he was an ordinary man crumbled.
It was a rude awakening that even when the pain in his life was out of sight, he was still the Simon with all his baggage. That day, the disgrace clawed its way out of the ground like the undead. Because this, his history, was never dead to begin with. He was cursed with the shame of being related to such a man.
“You don’t want to find out what I’m going to do if I see your face again.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll leave her alone.” He held his trembling hand up, scooting backwards before scrambling out the door, bumping into you as you watched in stunned silence.
“Melanie, you can go,” the elderly man behind the counter said.
She let out a shaky breath and disappeared to the back before emerging back with her belongings.
The room was tense, and with a tight smile, you only nodded at who he assumed to be the owner of the bakery. You went to his mum, rubbing her arm as you led her out. Simon hadn’t said a word since, his fists in his pockets, telling himself to not run after his dad and bash his face in once and for all.
Though on the outside it looked business as usual with Simon, always quiet with an icy stare, he was seething at dinner. The meal didn’t taste any better than MRE as his fork stabbed the pieces of whatever-it-was on his plate.
His mum seemed unaffected too, chatting and laughing with you, patting your forearm. As if she’d expected it, like her husband was a sentence that haunted wherever she went, waiting to strike. Thankfully, you were nice enough to not ask anything about the incident, preventing the evening from being even more shameful.
While you went to your flat to settle in, Simon and his mum went to his.
“What did he do to you?” he asked as soon as the door closed.
She sighed softly. “He was grovelling, asking me to come back.”
“How did he even know you work there?”
“I’ve got no idea, Si. But he always finds a way to get what he wants.”
He stared at her, wondering what that meant - if she was folding. He looked away before letting out a deep breath, running his fingers through his overgrown blond hair.
“I’ve been thinking about it. I’m arranging a meeting with a divorce lawyer.”
His lips quirked into the tiniest smile. It was about time.
After a shower, Simon knocked on your door. You didn’t seem to lock it anymore when you were expecting him. From the couch, you looked over your shoulder with a smile.
“I figured it was an Earl Grey kind of night.”
You had the kettle on the table, next to two mugs – one empty.
His eyes flicked to you, standing by the couch. “You must be wondering what the fuck that was.”
“Oh, you don’t need to tell-“
“That was my dad. My mum came here to get away from him.”
You gave him a sympathetic nod, patting the seat next to you.
He dropped himself onto the couch. “He hasn’t been nice to my mum to say the least. Hasn’t been to any of us in fact.”
“Must have taken a lot of courage to walk away, leaving everything she’s ever known.”
He turned to you, brows raised. “She told you?”
“No, but it’s not hard to see. She’s got no one here except you. Something must have happened back home.” You paused. “I know it’s just… difficult to do two people’s work.”
His gaze stayed on you, watching how yours cast down. He didn’t know what possessed him, but he asked, “How do you deal with guilt?”
“Accept that sometimes it’s not your fault.” You scooted closer, your hand on his. “That sometimes there’s nothing you can do even when you desperately want to. That you’re not always the good guy in everyone’s story.”
He leaned into your shoulder, his nose brushing against the smooth skin of your neck as he let out a long sigh.
You wrapped your arms around him. “I told you I’ve only got my dad now. He kept forgiving my mum, but it just didn’t work when your heart’s not there. It might have not been my fault things fell apart, but I wanted to have a hand in rebuilding what’s left. I like to think we’ve been having a pretty good time.”
Simon could tell you were smiling from the climb of your voice.
“You’ve still got your mum. There are still nice things to be had.”
His thick arms slipped around your waist. The TV droned on as the last half of your tea went cold, but you didn’t let go, fingers running through the hair above the nape of his neck.
His shoulders were still heavy. His dad wasn’t out of their lives yet, but with you like this, it was easy to forget it all. That anything else existed outside your quiet flat – his favourite flat.
He sat back and pulled you to him, an arm around you. You put on another episode of GBBO and lay on his chest. As the both of you stayed wordless, he contemplated if he could let himself stay - the couch or the floor would be fine. He wouldn’t leave if you asked, but you didn’t.
Near midnight, he excused himself to his flat - his first time staying there since his mum came. At the door, he braved himself to kiss you on the cheek.
“See you at breakfast.”
@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @eve-lie @luvecarson @ghostslittlegf @gluttonybiscuits @jaguarthecat @nocturnalreader106 @devils-dares @sparrowgalaxy
532 notes · View notes