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#bad mistakes I've made a few
shadowed-yet-vibrant · 2 months
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Wow turns out there's a reason every lawyer I'd ever met told me "don't be a lawyer."
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shining-gem34 · 3 months
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JADE'S ROLEPLAYING HISTORY
the rules are simple! post characters you’d like to roleplay as, have roleplayed as, and might bring back. then tag ten people to do the same ( if you can’t think of ten, just write down however many you can and tag that number of people ). please repost, don’t reblog!
Current Muse:
Honkai Star Rail: Dan Heng/Dan Feng
Genshin Impact: Wanderer
Multiverse OC: Rook
Want to write:
Honkai Star Rail: Arlan and Sushang.
Genshin Impact: Chiori and Noelle
Tales of Berseria: Velvet Crowe
Pokemon: Riley and Pokemon OC
Have written:
Tales of the Abyss: Luke Fon Fabre
Genshin Impact: Diluc
Saiyuki: Son Goku
Food Fantasy: Peking Duck, Cheese, Cassata, Steak, & Martini.
Monochrome Factor: Akira Nikaido
Would write again:
I'm somewhat still in Food Fantasy fandom (small group of friends on discord). Other than that, I definitely would be open to writing Luke Fon Fabre again especially attempt his bratty self before his character development! I never got a chance to roleplay that side of him. I think there is something appealing about a sheltered boy learning the world outside of his home. He's a spoiled brat, but he's a genuinely good kid at heart. It's something akin to Luke protecting his vulnerable self...
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normally try to be a big believer in people being allowed to have different opinions and stuff but also i’m about to start blocking wu haters for real
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anirudhpisharody · 4 days
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love that i keep making mistakes and ruining my life❤️
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thingswhatareawesome · 8 months
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have super torn through the materials from the $bp, nice to make good progress on some characters though (like march/himeko/yukong and their light cones as I mentioned earlier). also did a ton more work again on evaluating relics. making sure to max out any gold ones that have 2+ needed substats. been trying to be conservative with the resources but that's holding my characters back, they're weak bc of low relics. so i think i've been too picky waiting. so yeah, so long as it's got the right main stat and at least 2 substats, i'm upgrading.
also then had to take a ton of time to do more with salvaging to then generate more of the material, and i really struggle with salvaging what really isn't a great item vs but what if a future character needs it or what if a 2/4 pc bonus combines with unexpected stats and gets recommended in the guides, like i wouldn't have suspected healing stats being needed on what looks to be non healing relic types. so hard to know what's trash and what the guides are going to suddenly say is useful. (and jfc is everyone going to end up in hackerspace?)
but doing my best. trying to use mats and not just hoard them for 'just in case' when characters need them now and i can tell it's why i'm so much weaker than other players. and trying to learn, like i know it takes me so much longer to pick up this information (just finally getting to where i understand pity and 50-50). wish there were a bit more info on this stuff for those of us who're new to hoyo games (like my dabbling in genshin never got me to gearing and evaluating stats so sr is basically my first).
not that many levels left on the battle passes, i'm in the 40s, so yeah, it'll be a bummer when that dries up. bc there's quite a while left before the new one.
#it'd still be nice if i could find people doing text guides about salvaging basics i'll have to keep looking#just not youtube i need writing >_>;#it's sad that i'm this game dumb but i've always been like that#took me all of vanilla wow to really learn the basics of mmos and raiding and to start to understand my class (rogue)#ofc then i promptly switched to warlock with burning crusade lol#but i think this style of game is different enough that i've really been clueless even though it's been since june#though it's *only* been since june like a few months? compared to the years i spent in other games (or near a decade and a half in wow)#it's just kind of like i think so many are so familiar with these systems from so much time in genshin or even that other honkai game#that it's all second nature like everyone's in hoyo college and i'm still in grade school#trying to find guides that handhold and speak to my 'for dummies' level >_>;;#and lord i still don't know if i'm rushing it and wasting materials maxing out upgrades on relics that match 2+ substats#maybe others wait for 3 or 4 substats? bc i tried and was upgrading so few it was so rare?#or do people max out just if the main stat matches or with that or one substat?#this is where i miss the social aspects of mmos i could ask others easier and compare what i was doing vs them#i like game8.co but i still have made so many so many mistakes bc even being a guide that assumes more knowledge of the system than i had#like i needed guides that said no don't trust their automatic relic assignment button it's bad you have to evaluate each item and here's ho#and here's where you use your resources to upgrade#finally have the achievement for synthesizing 5 relics though i'm going to be super cautious on doing more#what with the extreme rarity of the resin#anyway... babbling to the void here i know#please ignore my sr bs#and figures i salvage all that disciple stuff bc i don't have blade and the guides say other stuff for arlan (who i won't lvl for ages)#only to find out that it's exactly what fx will need and while i don't have her what if i do get her?#it's exactly why i've been in 'save everything' mode bc the moment i got rid of something i didn't need whoops turns out it might be needed#i swear this game makes me so often feel like i'm always not doing the right thing while constantly doing the wrong thing#i'd like to feel like i truly understand the basics and am mostly competent with them but i'm not to that point yet :/
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cookies-and-creamless · 11 months
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Balloon Art Day 12
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11
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42. Shrimp - Frye
I opened up my box of balloons today fully intending to do some warm ups before diving into this one, but I just forgot to and ended up getting right to it instead. I know that I made a great effort to give Ortencia the crab the right number of legs, but that was simply never going to happen with Frye here. I also went with a light pink color, more because I like it than for any realism. I have already received complaints about the color, but I don't mind. I know I say this just about every time I make something new, but I'm very proud of how this came out! I do think, however, that I'd like to make another one someday, in a pose less associated with shrimp as food. In terms of balloon construction, I find this classic curl to be more interesting, but I think a lively, fully extended shrimp would be more fun to have around. Not to say that I don't enjoy having Frye around, of course.
The construction of this piece took a teensy tiny bit of creative problem solving on my part, but there weren't any major issues. I had to add new balloons earlier in the process than intended, but this difference didn't end up increasing the number of balloons involved. I would say that this design is deceptively simple, if anything. Still, the end result looks very nice, and the shape makes it very nice to hold and carry around.
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genderfreakxx · 1 year
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Dude. Queer people are literally the champions of the world. Queen was right.
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markster666 · 4 months
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Alas I have fallen for the radio demon! He is perfection and so is your writing! I’m sure you’ve got a lot of requests but I was hoping you could do an Alastor X fem! reader where she likes pulling/gripping his hair while he *ahem* breeds her? Her kink is bearing his demon spawns! = u =
Mmmm gotta love the Radio Demon! Saw this request at work and was like "I'm immediately writing this when I get home" sooo here we are! Thank you so much for your request and hope this is what you were looking for. Lots of love.
ALASTOR THE RADIO DEMON X READER (SMUT/18+) - Breeding B*tch
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Shameless Smut, 18+, Breeding, Hair pulling, Porn without much Plot, Pet kink, Pet play, Impregnation kink, etc.
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 878
A/N: Thank you so much to @lingeringherealways for taking time out of your day to put in this request and trust me with it! I absolutely adored this prompt the second I read it and had to write it out before I head to bed. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. Requests are open.
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The entire Hazbin crew (except for you and Alastor) decided to go on an outing. Charlie wanted to try and recruit sinners on the streets and offer them refuge in return for possible redemption. She invited you and Alastor to come along, albeit last minute, you both declined respectfully as somebody had to keep watch over the hotel while they were away. Alastor could easily do it by himself, sure, but you were burdened with the thought of sleep. As soon as they left, you slumped onto the lobby couch and shut your eyes.
Alastor waltzed into the room, his microphone staff hitting the ground with a thud every step he took. You opened one of your eyes to get a look at him, only to see he made his way to the edge of the couch, staring right at you with the same, expressionless wide-grinned look he masked all the time.
"Everything alright, Alastor?"
"Mmm, may I speak to you my Dear?"
You groaned and sat up lazily, rubbing your eyes.
"It's kind of a bad time, I'm half asleep."
His ears furrowed back and he sat at the edge of the couch, making sure to keep a good few feet of distance between you two. You could feel his demeanor shift promptly as he started speaking,
"Ah, yes, well, I'll make it quick. You see, I've been having this insatiable urge to... um... how do I speak of this-"
You raised your eyebrow as you waited for him to continue.
He sighed.
"I need to breed."
Your eyes widen in shock. Of course, you knew he was an animal and it would make sense as to WHY he had these desires but...
"And... why are you telling me this?"
He laughed.
"Hah hah hah! Because I want to breed YOU my Dear."
You stare at him open mouthed, unable to process what he just said. You have had fantasies about him for awhile, sure, but never in a million years did you ever expect it to finally be happening.
"O-Okay Alastor, but only this ONE time-"
He cut you off as soon as you gave him full permission to do what he wanted. He set his microphone down and pounced on you, his tall figure covering your entire body.
"Mmm, thank you my Dear, but I don't think one time is going to be enough for that pretty little body of yours."
You were about to say something before he crashed his lips down onto yours, forcing your mouth open with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he tore open your clothes in a couple fluid motions. He stopped kissing you as he ran a finger in between your folds.
"My my! Look how wet you are! Oh how I've been CRAVING to ravish you. I hope you don't expect me to take my time."
He quickly undid his pants zipper before instantly slipping his length inside of you, his ears pinned to the sides of his head trying to hold back grunts of ectasy. You were whining, going non-verbal from how full you felt. Every time he thrusted, it felt like you hit a new stage of bliss, and suddenly you didn't care about redemption into Heaven.
You were already in it.
He gripped your hair and held you close to his body, his face burrowed in your neck and shoulder crease as he aggressively, yet sloppily thrusted into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist so he could thrust as deep as he could.
He finally let his pleasure take control and started grunting animalistically. He was nipping at your collarbone and squeezing you into him as hard as he could, sweat being combined between your two intertwined bodies as the heat filled the space.
"You feel so gooood, you truly are a BITCH in heat. Let me hear more of those pretty little sounds of yours, Love."
He whispered into your ear before kissing your jawline quickly, smiling against your neck. Your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure and you could not contain your mews.
Your hands moved up to his hair, gripping it very aggressively out of pure passion and need.
"P-Please, Alastor, breed me. Impregnate me. I want you to mark my womb with your seed. Please-"
You senselessly babbled into thin air, gripping his hair harder and tightening your legs around his waist.
"Your begging is music to my ears! As you wish, Dear, stay still for me."
His thrusts quickened in pace before becoming sporadic. He finally unleashed all of his seed into you, making sure his cock was as deep inside of you as it could go. You were a panting mess, slowly loosening your grip on his hair, and he was making a bunch of radio static, also trying to catch his breath.
After a bit, he pulled out slowly and watched as his cum dripped out of you. His smile widened,
"Make sure you lay like that for awhile, Love, to make sure it all stays in."
You didn't ever want to move again. Everything was just bliss in that moment.
"Oh, and by the way my Dear, this will not be a one time thing. Expect it frequently!"
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.
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pyrrhiccomedy · 24 days
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I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.
Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.
My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.
Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.
And then the pandemic hit.
And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?
And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."
Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.
And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.
We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.
The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."
I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."
Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"
I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.
"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."
She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.
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rboooks · 1 year
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Child Support Part 2
Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.
Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.
They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?
Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.
Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)
It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.
"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.
Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.
"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.
Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."
"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."
"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.
Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."
Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.
But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.
If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.
Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.
"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."
The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"
Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."
A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."
Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."
Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?
"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.
Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.
He can't wait to tease Damian later.
"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.
"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.
"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.
"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.
Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.
"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"
Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"
"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.
He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.
"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."
"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"
"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.
"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug
"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."
"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.
Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."
Then the man vanishes in a green portal.
There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."
Tim wants to take a nap.
( Part 1 )
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No Such Thing As Filler
Okay, so yes, this is another post based on something I saw that irritated me, but it seems like this idea keeps coming up, so I need y'all to internalize this. There is no such thing as filler in good writing. None. Do not approach your work thinking you have to fill space in a story, I will beat you with this wiffle bat. Don't ask me where I got the wiffle bat. Don't even worry about it.
The idea of filler comes from a very particular place - when an anime or TV show has to fit in a certain number of episodes, but doesn't have enough content (hasn't caught up with the manga, the source material isn't long enough, etc) to cover those episodes. An episode has to be written, but the characters can't really progress, and so are given something else to do. Many a trope has come from these episodes, and they're sometimes necessary. Filler in this context is something that makes sense.
The dark side of filler is the idea that you need some space between Big Event 1 and Big Event 2 in your story, therefore you need throw anything in there to take up space and make your word count. This is a mistake I've made and I've seen plenty of other writers do it too, but it's a huge waste of your time. You do need something between those big action scenes, but you should always be writing to accomplish something.
Instead of thinking of that writing as filler, try to approach it with three things in mind:
Move Forward With Character Development and Backstory - Your characters barely survived a huge gunfight, and they won't encounter the big bad again for another few chapters. How do your characters decompress from that gunfight, and what does that say about them? Did a cocky character go in guns blazing, only to be deeply shaken by how a real fight works? Did that fight spark a moment of deep trauma for the main character that they have to reflect on afterwards?
Filling this space with meaningless scenes is a huge waste of opportunity. Think about how to dive deeper into your characters.
Move Forward With Plot and Subplot Development - The bad guy beat the heroes to the stolen gem, but they left behind a clue to why they want it. However that clue could reveal some painful truths about the protagonist's beloved great aunt... Carmen Sandiego???
A major goal following a big action scene is having the characters figure out what to do with what they've learned and what to do next. It's where romance subplots or secret relative subplots make progress, when truths are revealed and next steps are taken. You can absolutely do this in any setting - a flirty conversation while at the battling cages, a tense moment of feelings while hunting down a wayward chicken - but your main goal is making progress for both the characters and plot.
Move Forward With Worldbuilding - Worldbuilding has it challenges, believe me. You don't want to write a chapter on how an airship works only to have to cut it later. But you should still try to flesh out your world, and you should do so with the perspective of how to use that worldbuilding to your benefit. Maybe a critical scene hinges on the main characters knowing how that airship works, or that lake your main character often stares at is the setting of the big Act 3 Boat Battle. The weather can play into both perspective and emotions. Knowing what the main character's house and car looks like can reflect a lot on their personal character or backstory.
When you're struggling with a scene or a chapter, rather than writing filler, take a few steps back and think. What can you establish with your worldbuilding? What can you reveal about your characters through their dialogue and actions? What subplot could you explore or add in these between moments?
Filler from a fandom perspective - Now let me make this clear - if you're writing a fanfic just to have a cute moment between the characters you like, or you really want to force everyone to do that weird Twilight baseball scene, that's fine. You don't need a grand goal to achieve for every story, there's no need to justify your fanwork in any way other than you wanted to do it.
But I'd also argue fanwork doesn't fall under the filler label either - something you create, be it a character snapshot or a 'what if the gang meets Slenderman' parody, isn't taking up meaningless space. It's something fun you did that you and others enjoy, and there's nothing wasteful or pointless about that.
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z0mb13-b0y-m4t30 · 3 months
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LUCIFER X DOM READER (reader has a cock)
Hello pervs, it's been a fat second since I've really posted anything. Which I hope I've gotten slightly better since than - reading my slightly older posts on here are so messy and disorganized.
So I've resorted to porn without much plot (pwmp) I think I'll start doing this more often than not because im not the greatest at storyline writing. Unfortunately I've been hooked on this godforsaken app for 2 days straight and I'm motivated as FUCK rn, so let's do this.
You
Lucifer
CW; Dom reader, reader has a dick/strap-on, Lucifers a whiney little bitch, nipple play, readers kind of sadistic(?), choking, belly bulge, size kink, creampie, petnames, lucifers kinda Pervy, degrading, readers kinda Pervy too.
🍎✨
You've been apart of the hazbin hotels staff for awhile now, being with her since the beginning, so finding out she decided to have to dad come over for the first time was a bit confusing - since when did he have time for her?
The whole entrance of her father was a bit dramatic and over the top as a whole musically charged argument between Lucifer and alastor happened.
Although...while Lucifer was here you couldn't help but notice him sneaking glances at you, his eyes wondering over your body without shame, you've caught him looking below your belt a few times, not complaining though, having a dilf check you out wasn't a bad thing, you couldn't help but wonder a few things.. like him on his knees sucking your big cock while he chokes on it, with teary eyes, knowing he's getting off on it aswell.
Through Lucifers eyes - he couldn't stop looking at you, you were so much more taller than him, the fact you tower and loom over him...fuck it turned him on so much. Just knowing you could pick him up and use him as a toy for your own pleasures made it all the more exhilarating.. although his pride and stubbornness would never allow him to admit that out loud...but he just couldn't help but to wonder how'd it feel to be underneath you while you fuck him dumb.
Speaking of him looking at you..you were sleeping in your bed, you lived in the hotel as well as the other staff. You kept waking up with a paranoid feeling but you shrugged it off as you couldn't care less, this was hell, your always being watched by your past mistakes anyways. But..no, it was him, Lucifer, watching you through the crack in the door, his red pupil being barely visible as he gently opened the door.
He quietly entered the room as he locked the door behind him with a small ‘click’. He sauntered to the side of your bed as he stared down at you with a lidded look. He had a wet dream about you..of course he did..he's a dirty whore who hasn't had sex in a while..let alone with a guy so when he felt himself lusting after you..he needed to fill that need. He gently palmed himself through his pants as he stared down at your sleeping form, soft grunts and moans left his pump lips as his cheeks flushed slightly.
Just then you blinked a few times as you slowly woke up, feeling paranoid once again, Lucifer on the other hand swiftly moved his hand away from himself as he just stood there. You looked up at him as you raised an eyebrow, his flushed face and glazed over eyes caused you confusion.
"Dude- what the hell are you doing?? It's like 4am." You glared tiredly at him as you weren't really shocked..just confused if Anything. What's this twink doing in YOUR room this late?
Lucifer flinched a bit as his usual wide grinned masked his embarrassment - he then replied in a slightly sheepish tone, "I just ..wanted to check up on you..make sure your doing okay and all..is it so bad i wanted to check in on my .. favorite guy ever?"
He played it off in a friendly tone as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at you, his eyes never leaving your as you sat up in bed..that made his eyes leave yours, is gaze followed down to your exposed chest as the blanket slid down your torso, the thin blanket covering your lap and leaving a soft outline of your dick, why should you care? Your dick pics are surrounding the Internet (by choice) and plus! It's late, your tired.
He bit his lip as he shamelessly stared at that outline before he snapped his gaze back up to yours, you raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him and rolled your eyes, "seriously? I have a hard time believing that, what do you actually want."
Lucifer realized this wouldn't go anywhere unless he initiated it, he put his hand on your cheek and leaned in just a bit, "..I've been .. watching you and thinking about you..I had a dream about you and all..I just wanted to see you." He answered truthfully but his trembling tone made you believe there was more than just an innocent dream that made him wanna see you.
"Really hm? What typa' dream? Wet dream?" Your eyebrows raised in amusement as you felt more awake, a small smirk made a way to your lips as you stared at him expectantly, you knew you were right, your not an idiot - you can tell who's being a horny fuck underneath.
A small blush crept onto his face as he chuckled gently, his hand still on your cheek as he mumbled a small, “Maybe…” His eyes were starting to roam around the room, checking everything from his side as if he was thinking of something. “..You do look ..tempting, you know.”
His finger hooked around the thin blanket covering your lap as he went to pull his down just a bit to tease himself like the masochistic bitch he is. His face flushed once more as your felt yourself getting aroused by this sudden advancement.. Lucifer couldn't help but wonder how you'd feel inside him, hitting his prostate and making him cum an unholy amount of times...god that made his dick twitch as he looked back into your eyes,
"I..I need you so bad."
That's how you got here. He's underneath you as you kiss his jawline, your lips trailing down to his neck as you bit into his soft flesh, leaving a mark as you did so, he let out a moan that made your dick twitch so good,
"A-Ahh! Oh Fuck your gonna-..I'm gonna oh- please..no..no more teasing please..ohgodohgod.."
you couldn't help but feel the need to ruin him. Your fingers gently pinched his nipple before your lips trailed down his collarbone to his chest as your tongue swirled around his sensitive nipple - earning a moan from him.
"Pleaseplease! sir..I need you so so bad..please...AH- oh fuck!" He whined, his back arched as you bit down gently on his sensitive bud, it caught him off guard as your hand trailed down to his boxers, your finger hooked around his waistband before pulling back and letting go - letting it snap against his hip, a sharp hiss left his lips as he felt that slight pain. "Please! Oh god I think- I think I'm gonna-"
You smirked at him approaching his orgasm just from some touches from your tongue and hands.
"no no.. sweetheart, were just getting started and your already so riled up.." You smirked as your eyes lidded into a smug grin, "Look at you.. already a mess underneath me..I'll be sure to punish you for sneaking into my room all because of some dirty fantasy you had of me..how perverted of you, luci."
Lucifer groans softly as his dick twitched uncontrollably just from your words and sexy voice..he was so turned on, “please... Stop. Don't... I'll do anything, just please-please! Oh fuckfuck.....” Everything you're giving is making him crazy. He is losing control every second.
“Y-You're making me crazy....”
Your smirk widened almost sadistically as you tilted your head, "awe..look at you, baby...how pathetic." You grinned down at him, you wanted to make him cry and loose his mind, "Crazy.. already? Your so sensitive..at this rate you'll be a blubbering incoherent mess the time I'm done with you."
Lucifer groans as he clutches your poor sheets tightly. The way you're making him feel, oh boy it's too much! He feels himself hanging on by a thread and you've only just started. "Please... I'm barely hanging on, just give me a break." He breathes heavily as all of those kisses and bites are making him crazy, and all he can do are these pathetic whines.
"hmmm no..now that wouldn't be too fun..now would it?" You ripped his boxers off almost immediately, you were already naked and now he was too, god he looks so pretty so needy..his bruised porcelain skin making it hard for you to hold back. "God your so pathetic.. its like you want me to overstimulate you like the whore you are."
Lucifer's body shuddered at the touch. Oh, this is just unbelievable. He was actually getting desperate for you now. You could tell he was at his breaking point. Lucifer was breathing heavily from all the arousal and the pleasure you were giving him, as he was unable to say a single word.
"I... i-i Can't... Take... It.. Anymore..please sir I need you..I need you in me so so..deep."
Please let me cum in you..was all you could think, you absolutely need to be in him but your holding back for the sake of teasing him, "Hmm? And who came into my room? Who made the first move?~ can't back out now Sweetheart..you know you want me to use you like a toy..I see the way you look at me like the pervert you are.."
Lucifer is breathing heavily. Every single move you're making is driving him crazy, he is a total mess right now, and he is loving every single second of it. "You... don't... understand... What... you're... doing... t'me... Please.." His hands grip the sheets tightly almost ripping them as he tries so hard to be in control but this feels good, way too good.
"good boy-.." you spit on your middle finger and pointer finger as you went to prep him but before you did, your eyebrows raised in slight amusement and surprise, your smirk widened as you held his hip and thigh so he couldn't squirm away from you, "..did you already prep yourself? ..Did you expect me to do this too you, slut?"
Lucifer's cheeks turned even brighter red at that revelation. He couldn't speak as he continued to squirm, his breathing was heavy, but he wasn't struggling anymore. His body was letting all of these feelings flow through. Lucifer's whole body was twitching slightly, as his whole body was so close to being overwhelmed. He bit his lip once again, he was trying so hard... "Yes... I did expect.."
"god your really a slut for me, huh." Your grip on him tightened as your smirk widened, your eyes narrowed as he looked down at you..that pleading look in his teary eyes turned you on beyond belief,
"You think you can handle me?"
"I.... I-I think I can, b-but..." He moaned and whined as his mind was absolutely overwhelmed, as you had now completely taken control over him. Lucifer was now fully under your grasp and there was nothing he can do about it. He was yours and all yours to claim. "I.. Will be a good... Slut... For you..."
Your hand snaked up his torso as you wrapped your hand around his throat, applying a bit of pressure as his breath hitched, a jolt went through his whole body as you applied that pressure to his throat. His breathing became more shallow as his heart was pounding in his chest.
It felt like his whole body was being overwhelmed right now, but at the same time, it felt so good. Lucifer's eyes locked with yours, as you can see that he's trying very hard to just relax, to just surrender and let you have your way so you could penetrate him without much problem..you lifted his thigh and placed it over your shoulder as you aligned your dick with his hole, precum flowing out of both of your cocks. With that - you pushed into his eager hole going around halfway as Lucifer moan loudly,
"Ahh! Ahh- oh- goddamnit! Ahh, what the FUCK?! Your huge!" He groaned and moaned as he squirmed at the sudden feeling of you entering him,
"shhh ..shhh..relax sweetheart..I'm only halfway in." You kissed his cheek which was a drastic change from your previous behavior although it did work in calming him down, this was all Lucifer could hope for...sorta, when he heard you were only halfway in he felt himself feel a tad bit of fear.
Lucifer's eyes widen and his body starts trembling a bit. You can easily tell that the sensation is too intense for him to handle right now. His breathing is shallow and you can see he is a total mess right now. His grip on the sheets are all that seems to be holding him to one place at the moment, "holy fuck I'm gonna die...your gonna kill me.."
"oh don't be so dramatic." You pushed in all the way as a bulge was prominent in his lower stomach from you going balls deep within him, your dick hitting his prostate as his walls clenched around your cock as you let out a quiet groan, you rubbed his hips as you continued. both of you felt so much pleasure it was so so good..
His whole body is trembling as his breath catches. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he moans loudly. His grip on the sheets are now tightening, his teeth are clenched as he tries to remain conscious. He looks at you with shaky eyes, his cheeks flushed and sweaty. A sudden jolt went through his body in that moment. He is just losing it at this point, his mind is blank with no actual thoughts other than this. Every single movement of yours felt like an overwhelming feeling and his body was responding to that. His fingers were digging deep into the sheet while his whole body quivered with pleasure.
You started to thrust in and out of him deeply, hitting his prostate as he moaned relentlessly, "ah! Ah! Ah! Goddamnitttt- fuck! Fuck! Don't- don't stop-" his eyes rolled back, he looked so pretty - tears streaming down his cheeks, his puffy lips pink and his face was red as you wrapped your hand around his throat, pounding into his slutty man cunt, giving him no time to take a breath. He came in which you chuckled, "awe... already? Did my slut already cum?"
He choked out a sob as you continued to hit his prostate repeatedly, your hand only applied more pressure on his pretty throat as he moaned and whimpered, "plea- Ohhhuh!..can't..can..sooo..i can't; I can't ..take it sir.." his speech was slurred as you didnt have any remorse.
"too bad. We just started."
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sickuma · 11 months
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SILLAGE — a Simon Riley fic. 2/2
❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it ꜝ? Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.
paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !
Part 1 (^_^;)
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SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.
—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—
There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.
—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.
It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.
Too accepting.
—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.
There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.
—it wasn't.
He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,
Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,
Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.
—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.
The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.
You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.
He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,
For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.
—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,
He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,
He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.
—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back. 
He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.
—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.
He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.
—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.
As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.
There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.
It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.
Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.
“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”
You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,
For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.
“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?” 
The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”
Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?
With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.
“[name]?” he knocks,
Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”
The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,
“I'm sorry,” he whispers,
“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”
To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?
“[name] I love you.”
He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance. 
It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”
“Baby are you okay?” no response.
Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.
The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...
Right?
“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.
The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.
“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”
He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,
He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent, 
“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”
The silence rung,
Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.
A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”
“Jokes over [name] get up—”
When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours. 
How long have you been here?
In this state? How long has it been since you left him?
He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him. 
How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?
He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,
There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?
If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.
It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,
Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,
Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.
He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,
The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while. 
“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe. 
Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.
Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,
Cradling whatever is left of you,
Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.
The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body, 
but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.
At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.
This person right this moment was your simon,
He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.
As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,
If i didnt leave,
If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?
He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?
His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.
Like you always did.
At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.
Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.
Simon,
I felt everything.
Thank you, and im sorry,
I love you :)
Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.
He cant imagine a greater pain,
It felt surreal.
How could I..
How could I have lost you this easily.
With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.
How could he have not seen?
How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.
The very fear you spoke of,
He did just exactly what your family had done.
If anybody could have saved me,
it would have been you.
He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you. 
Despite the war inside your mind,
Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.
May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.
He read it all,
Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,
Everything you failed to say while you still lived.
It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,
How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel. 
It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.
He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.
Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's
If he stayed,
If he hadn't walked out,
If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,
If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.
He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.
Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,
So you could return.
A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back. 
"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."
"I'm sorry you had to be alone." 
"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him. 
At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.
Thank you for making me feel.
The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail. 
"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm so sorry for not being here you."
He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,
To avoid losing you.
Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.
The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,
"Can I hug you?"
"One last time?"
Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,
You were bidding him goodbye.
That really was the final hug. 
The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you. 
He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?
It ached.
And it ached painfully.
The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.
The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,
As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.
This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,
If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.
As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,
You left a sillage worth remembering.
"I'll keep you in my heart,
Even if that damage me,
Even if it kills me.
I'll keep you safe forever."
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velvetures · 10 months
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Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.
So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.
So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!
Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))
I Knew, Sweetheart
A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.
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John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.
Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.
Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.
You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.
A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.
John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.
At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.
Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.
God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.
Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.
Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.
“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.
“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”
He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”
Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.
He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”
You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.
John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.
“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.
You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.
“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.
“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.
“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.
Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.
“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.
“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.
“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.
“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.
He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.
“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”
“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”
“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”
His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.
John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.
In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.
“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.
Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.
Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.
“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.
“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.
“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.
“Give me hand, Captain?”
He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.
The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.
“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.
“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.
His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.
John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable
With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.
Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.
“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”
His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.
John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.
Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.
Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.
“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.
It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.
“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.
Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.
God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.
Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.
“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”
Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.
“Please, I want this. I want you John.”
Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.
“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.
“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.
Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.
“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.
Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.
Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.
Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.
“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.
You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.
“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.
You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.
He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.
Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.
Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.
“I love you, John. More than anything.”
He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“You’re my best friend.”
He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.
“You’re mine too.”
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yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.
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summer-princess · 4 months
Text
Inappropriate Response: Leila Ouahabi x Reader
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Summary: Leila confronts you after a bad tackle. Things escalate. 🔞Smut. Mdni. 🔞 Pairing: Leila Ouahabi x Reader Warnings: Everything is consensual but not explicitly negotiated beforehand. Fingering, degradation, wall sex Disclaimer: Obviously fiction. Notes: I've had this partially written for so long! I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to leave requests! Words: 2674
You knew you had fucked up as soon as you collided with your opponent. 
Her pained shout as she fell to the ground under your mistimed challenge made your stomach roil as you hopped back up to your feet, barely noticing the referee as she pulled out the yellow card and held it up in your direction.
Even as your teammates surrounded her, beginning to argue on your behalf, you didn’t bother. Instead, you peered around the backs of City’s medical team, trying to catch a glimpse of the player you’d taken out. 
Through her grimace of pain as the medical staff helped her to her feet and off the pitch, Leila Ouahabi still managed to send an impressive glare your way.
She had to be substituted off, and the knot of guilt in your stomach only tied itself tighter.
You could see her glaring at you from the City bench, clearly still stewing over the bad tackle as she sat with her ankle covered in ice, but it faded from your mind as the match continued on. When it was over, you retreated back into the locker room with your teammates, not expecting the Spaniard to make anything more of it.
You couldn’t have been more wrong.
As you knew for a fact that you were the last one in the lockers, the sound of the door made you jump, water bottle clattering down to the floor as you whipped your head around, catching sight of black hair as the Spaniard fixed you with a steely glare.
You didn’t know Leila well, having only played against her a few times, but you could tell that she was still angry as she stalked toward you, ankle clearly still tender. You wanted to melt into the floor as she got closer, wishing that you could disappear before you had to hear exactly what the Spaniard thought of you.
There was no such luck for you as Leila stalked towards you, her approach pushing you further and further back.
“What the fuck was that tackle?”
You shrugged, back pressing against the white wall as she cornered you. You wanted to apologize, again, but your words were lodged in your throat as her glare froze you in place. The sensation of the back against the wall, the beautiful woman with ire in her eyes growing closer and closer, was going straight between your thighs.
You knew that your reaction was entirely inappropriate. 
Her response was entirely disproportionate, the rational side of your mind told you. It had been a mistake, and you had apologized for it. Repeatedly, in fact. You shouldn’t be standing here and listening to her shout at you, back against the wall. You should be yelling back, standing up for yourself.
But you weren’t.
Instead, your eyes were locked on the defender’s pretty face as she cornered you, and her fury had you shivering for a very different reason.
Your cheeks were red and heated with a scarlet blush, and your face wasn’t the only part of your body that felt hot. 
“Well?!”
You didn’t know what to say as she shouted at you once again, the fierce bite of her words sending a fresh shiver through you. Your silence was clearly beginning to grate on her nerves as she clenched her jaw, unwilling to leave you alone until you’d explained yourself to her satisfaction.
“I… Um…”
Unconsciously, you pressed your thighs together, your pussy beginning to tingle with arousal. You worried your tongue between your teeth, only getting wetter as the Spaniard glared at you, so close. But she couldn’t know, could she?  
There was no way that Leila could figure out why you were a stuttering mess, know way that she could know just how wet you were getting. 
How, if she did figure it out, you would do whatever she asked of you.
The defender was, however, remarkably observant when she wanted to be.
Still narrowed in a glare, Leila’s eyes drifted downwards from your nervous face to the spot where your thighs were pressed together. You were trying desperately not to clench down around nothing, praying that your entirely inappropriate reaction to being backed into a corner by a beautiful woman would go unnoticed by the woman herself, that you could get her to accept your apology and flee home with your tail tucked in to take care of your need on your own.
Leila’s gaze, however, should have warned you that things wouldn’t exactly work out that way.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, realization flooding her face as you flushed scarlet, unable to stop a little whimper from escaping, cursing every decision you had ever made that had led you to this situation.
“You… You’re… Fuck. This is making you wet, isn’t it?”
You shook your head frantically, trying to deny it. Even as you did, another wave of arousal flooded through you, her looming presence going straight between your legs. The air between the two of you felt charged with electricity as she invaded your space, able to sense the way your breath hitched at her proximity.
“F-Fuck you, that’s-”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
Her growl drew another noise from you, much louder than the first. Your breath froze in your lungs as Leila slid one of her knees between your legs, her lower thigh making the barest contact with the place where her words had gone. 
Even through your kit, the touch of the defender’s skin against your pussy made you whine. You just managed to stop yourself from grinding down against the other woman’s muscular leg, but the sound did nothing to disprove Leila’s conclusion.
You couldn’t meet her eyes.
There was no way this could be happening. There was no way you were trapped in a corner by a beautiful woman who was very angry at you, and there was no way she had just slid her leg between yours to confirm that the situation was making you wet. 
“Look. At. Me.”
Even though it was torture, the blush on your cheeks setting your face ablaze to the point where you were fairly certain you were seconds away from spontaneous combustion, the bite behind her heavily accented English couldn’t be ignored.
Shaking, biting your lip to hold back the disappointed whimper when she removed her leg from between yours, you raised your chin and forced yourself to meet her eyes.
Her eyebrows were raised just slightly as her grip loosened, silently giving you the opportunity to say that you didn’t want this, to push her away and never speak of this moment again.
You would have been lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a moment, but the press of Leila’s body against your own was just too tempting for denial to be anything but an unthinkable possibility.
One look into your face made the decision for Leila- behind the humiliation, your eyes were clouded with an obvious lust, the same expression she knew was dancing behind her own heavy gaze. 
Slipping her hand beneath your shorts, Leila’s hand went straight to your wetness.
You were soaked, and it didn’t take the Spaniard long to more than confirm her original suspicion. The second her long fingers brushed against the crotch of your panties, they were met with damp fabric, plentiful evidence of her claim. You whimpered, rocking your hips forward into her touch, and the defender let out a harsh laugh.
“You fucking slut.” 
Her hands found the waistband of your shorts and unceremoniously yanked them down your thighs, pulling your panties along with them. 
“Wanna make it up to me, hm?”
You nodded desperately, not trusting your words to properly convey how much you needed to make it up to her in this way, hoping that the motion of your head would get the message across.
Leila swore in Spanish at the feeling as, unencumbered by your shorts and panties, her fingers once again met the bare flesh of your cunt. She wasted no time before beginning her ministrations, two fingers pressed together gathering the wetness from your entrance and dragging it back up to your clit. The defender began stroking your sensitive little nub, relishing the way you were unable to hold back a strangled moan. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, the combination of the match and her fingers making you shudder and buckle a little, saved from collapsing to the floor only by her presence.
“How pathetic can you get?” 
She was supporting a good portion of your weight now, ankle making a miraculous recovery as two fingers rubbed against your cunt, mercilessly stroking your clit.
Pathetic was definitely one of the many words that could be used to describe you right now, pressed up against the wall by a woman who probably hated you, soaking her fingers with your arousal.
But the best part?
The best part, and the worst part at the same time, was that you didn’t care. All you cared about right now was how much you needed her, needed her to keep you pinned against the wall with her larger body, needed her to keep touching you like that, needed the filthy, degrading words being growled in your ear.
“I could tell you to get on your knees and eat me out right here and you’d do it, no?”
You nodded desperately, trying to rock against her fingers. She pulled them back, swallowing your whine with a fierce and bruising kiss. 
Leila’s kiss was like fire, her lips crashing against your own with a heat that could almost rival the one between her legs, where her fingers continued to work you. Her mouth dominated, your own offering little resistance as you moaned, again, into her tongue as it explored. She kissed you like she was dying, and your lips were the only cure, until she was suddenly pulling back, leaving you desperate for more.
Kiss broken, Leila’s other hand flashed out, wrapping around your neck as she held you against the wall. Your gasp of surprise was short and strangled, cut off in the face of the momentary restriction to your airflow. She didn’t keep her hand wrapped around your neck for longer than a second or two, just long enough to pin you in place as the fingers that had just been rubbing your sensitive clit and outer folds suddenly slipped inside your cunt. You were tight, but so wet that her two fingers slid easily inside, the Spaniard giving you only milliseconds to adjust before she was moving, fucking you in earnest, still keeping you pressed against the wall and at her mercy.
Even though her fingers were thin, the sudden intrusion still made you gasp aloud, instinctively trying to spread your legs further and give her better access. She swore again, a Spanish curse you couldn’t understand, welcoming the better angle as she buried herself in you up to the third knuckle, lithe digits swallowed by your desperate cunt.
She found her rhythm quickly, curling her fingers every few thrusts so she could massage the sensitive tissue inside of you. 
You were fairly certain you had forgotten how to breathe properly, strangled gasps all you could manage as the Spaniard fucked you with her fingers. The pleasure was constant, pounding, overwhelming as her thumb rubbed messy circles across your clit, acute and addicting. Your mouth fell open, eyes heavy-lidded as you let yourself be fucked, owned by the gorgeous defender.
“You little slut,” she hissed, yanking you back to reality with her words as her wrist continued to guide her thrusts, power coming from her forearm as she fucked your willing hole. “You little fucking slut.” 
“Your slut,” you moaned in agreement, throwing your head back as her fingers continued to plunder your pussy, making it clear who controlled the situation.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Wanna be my little slut?”
You nodded, leaning forward desperately and puckering your lips, needing to feel her mouth against your own.
She met you halfway, pressing another furious kiss to your parted lips. You gasped into the kiss, clasping onto it like a breath of oxygen, even as it stole the air from your lungs. Her lips against yours only made her fingers plundering your cunt more intense. 
You could feel the pressure beginning to build against your pelvis, the sensations becoming more and more intense as Leila slipped a third finger inside, the brief ache of the stretch quickly swallowed by the pleasure. Removing her lips from your mouth, the defender hissed into your ear, hot breath posing a question which made you shiver in anticipation and nerves.
“You deserve to come?”
You didn’t know which answer she wanted, but the idea of being denied, of her talented fingers leaving you a quivering mess and not seeing the act through to completion made you want to sob. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like Leila really expected an answer as she curled her fingers again, palm pressing firmly against your nub. Every movement of her fingers set your nerves on fire, sensitive little clit fully erect from her touch. You could feel your orgasm approaching much more rapidly now, barrelling towards you like a runaway freighter, and you had no idea how much longer you could hold back.
“Leila-”
The strangled moan of her name was enough to alert Leila to your predicament and, as much as the rapidly forming bruise on her ankle made her want to walk away and leave you panting, unsatisfied with your arousal coating your thighs, there was no real choice.
Not when you had taken her so well, not when you looked so pretty with her fingers buried inside your cunt, showing her just how sorry you were. 
She wanted to feel you come around her fingers, and she wanted it now.
“Come for me. Make it up to me, slut, and come for me like the needy thing that you are.”
Permission granted, you wasted no time before crashing over the edge with a sharp cry, a nonsensical noise barely recognizable as the other woman’s name.
Your legs gave out beneath you as you came but, before you could fall to the floor, her free arm was wrapping around your waist, holding you steady as your orgasm overwhelmed you, cunt clamping around her long fingers and holding them in place. Leila couldn’t help but release a little sound of her own at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around her fingers, imagination conjuring images of what it would be like to have you all to herself for much longer, spread out and helpless in her bed.
“R-Really am sorry,” you whispered, clinging to her shoulders as the aftershocks began to fade. 
“Shh, pretty girl,” she cooed, banishing her fantasies for a moment in order to see to you, tone markedly different from the one she had used when she first cornered you against the wall, what seemed like an eternity ago.
“It’s okay. Don’t you worry about it. It’s all fine, I promise. It barely even hurts anymore.”
You sighed in relief, embracing the feeling of her arms around you as she worked her fingers free, leaving you empty as she pulled your shorts and damp panties back into place. 
“Besides,” said Leila, grinning as she glanced at her glistening fingers. “I think you more than made up for it.”
Your post-orgasm haze wearing off, the furious blush returned to your cheeks. She chuckled, shaking her head. 
“And now that you have… I don’t suppose you’d let me buy you a drink?”
It was your turn to burst out laughing, first at the audacity of the question and then at the slightly wounded look that appeared on the defender’s face at your reaction.
Crouching down to pick up a stray hair elastic and sliding it around your wrist, you met her eyes and gave her a bright grin and a nod.
“You know,” you said. “This may be the strangest way anyone’s ever asked me out.”
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yoongiseesawmp3 · 5 months
Text
ceilings - san
summary: pe teacher!san x single mom!reader. your kid is finally ready to go to school, and you're spiraling. thankfully, you find friendship with your kid's teacher and she becomes determined to become your best friend. simultaneously, she tries to set you up with the cute pe teacher, but you know him from somewhere deep within your past. can the truth come out without jeopardizing your future?
word count: 12.4k
warnings: afab reader so gendered terms, mentions of accidental pregnancy
masterlist / part two
"violet, come on, we're gonna be late!" you shout to your daughter. it's her first day of kindergarten, her first day of real school, and you're so close to tears. you want to cry because your baby is growing up, because you won't get to cart your little mini me around with you everywhere now, because you're so stressed about getting her to school on time. it's been a rough morning, and your daughter taking her sweet time is not helping.
"i'm almost ready!" she shouts back from the bathroom, and you suppress a groan. what does a five year old have to primp for?
"one more minute and i'm dragging you to the car!" you threaten lightheartedly, knowing she'll only take it to mean she has a minute before you go and help her.
"i'm done," she says proudly as she appears in the doorway to the kitchen. hands on her hips she asks, "how do i look?"
"ridiculous," you laugh. "is that my shirt?"
"and my belt!" she defends herself. "i thought it was cute."
"it is cute, baby, but maybe you should wear something more comfortable for the first day?" you offer. you shuffle over to the laundry basket you left on the stairs and dig around for an outfit, handing your stubborn daughter some jeans and a sweater. "just wear something comfy today, and later this week you can dress silly."
"i wasn't dressed silly, i was dressed like you," violet mumbles, and you roll your eyes. your daughter definitely got your sass, and your stubbornness, but the resemblance kind of stops there. she's a spitting image of her father, a constant reminder of the mistake you made when you were younger. but it wasn't really a mistake, was it? if it brought you the one thing that's made you happier than anything before, it wasn't a mistake at all. violet was the best thing that ever happened to you, and again, the waterworks threaten to fall as you think about dropping her off for her first day of school. a day, you realize, you're late for.
"c'mon sugar, we gotta go!" you shout, grabbing her hello kitty backpack. "i've got your stuff, meet me in the car!"
-
you work close enough to violet's school that you can be one of those annoying carpool parents swarming the school grounds every day. while violet may hate it, you're so excited for all the memories that will come from these trips to and from school each day. like today, you'll always remember how violet started crying a few minutes down the road, claiming she didn't want to go to school because she didn't want to eat school lunch.
"it's not that bad, vi." you tell her as you peek at her through the rearview. "i remember loving some days of school lunch so much i would always go, even if i was sick."
"but you only liked some days," she sniffed. "what if i don't like any of the days?"
"then i'll pack you a lunch," you assure her. "just try it this week, every day, because some days will be better than others. then if you don't like any of it i'll start making your lunch. how does that sound?"
"okay," she nods, her sad little sniffles clearing up. "thank you mommy."
"we're almost there," you say quietly, more to yourself than to your daughter. "are you excited, sugar?"
"kinda," she admits. "i'm excited to see miss jen!"
"she's gonna be a great teacher," you agree. "you're gonna learn so much, and you're gonna have so much fun with her and all the friends you're gonna make. right?"
violet nods again, and you're satisfied for now. you're sure your baby is alright to go off to school for the first time, at least for the time being. surely there will be another thing to freak about later in the day, but for now you need to worry about navigating this carpool line. a man in workout clothes with a haggard looking traffic vest is directing traffic, and while you pass him, you feel your heart skip a beat.
it can't be him, right? there's no way he works here. it can't be. you keep driving, following the cones until you pull up to the sidewalk and a very kind looking teacher approaches your car with a soft smile.
"good morning!" he chirps. "i'm mr. kang, the librarian," he says as he stoops to peer through your window. his gaze goes to the backseat, asking violet, "are you ready for the best day ever?"
she nods shyly, and you watch as she undoes her car seat and slides out of the car with her too big book bag engulfing her frame as she walks away. you shout her name and she turns, a nervous look on her face.
"have a great day, my love!" you blow her a kiss for good measure, and you carry the way she smiles proudly with you for the rest of the day. the man in the traffic vest is all but forgotten, but he watches from afar in confusion. was he seeing things, or were you really here dropping off a kid? a kid, in fact, who looked exactly like he did at that age. weird, he thinks, but he shakes it off and continues directing traffic, wondering how he could find a way to introduce himself over the next few days.
-
when you were younger, your parents always supported you academically, but they were never involved with the school itself. pta meetings were not their thing, and it was a struggle getting them to take off work for a parent/teacher conference. you had decided early on that you would be one of those involved parents, one that knew your kid's teacher well and participated in room mom activities. you were texting violet's teacher last night, actually, asking if there was anything you could bring to help celebrate the first week, and she was eager to have the help.
she'd asked you to bring lollipops, so on thursday afternoon you're searching for a parking spot before school lets out. you were going to drop the goodies off at violet's classroom and help jen with the goody bags during dismissal, quick and easy. except, an intimidating figure walking toward your car may not make this process as easy as you'd have hoped.
san saw your car pull up and immediately stepped out into the parking lot. as the unofficial carpool guardian, one of his daily jobs is stopping parents who try to cheat the system by taking up faculty spots so they can be first in line. san didn't know it was you or he would've approached with a different demeanor, but today was rough. he had at least two criers per class and one kid who ran so hard after lunch he puked outside san's office. he wasn't in the mood to deal with a privileged parent, so he lets out a deep sigh as he approaches your now open window.
"ma'am you can't park here-" he starts, but as soon as his eyes meet yours he chokes on his words. "y/n?"
"hi san," you smile shyly, heartbeat racing. "so i can't park here? there weren't any guest spots out front, and i need to take something to vi's class-"
"vi?" san questions, and you let out a deep sigh of your own.
"violet," you tell him. "my..my daughter."
"i thought that was you the other day," san admits, and you nod in confirmation. "well, um, if you're just coming to drop something off, you're all good, you can leave your car-"
"oh really? i can move, it's no problem-"
"no, no, don't worry about it-"
"are you sure?" you ask, finally stopping the awkward back and forth. "you won't tattle?"
"pinky promise," san laughs, holding your door for your as you get out. "but i'd sneak out before carpool starts up if i were you, it'll be hard to pull out once the lot fills up."
"got it," you nod graciously, slipping your hand into the backseat to grab the bag of candy. san is still standing there, so you clear your throat and try to leave. "well, thanks for letting me-"
"no worries-"
"it was good seeing you-"
"yeah, yeah..." san trails off. once you're a few feet away he calls your name. you turn to see what he needs, and he thinks about it before shrugging. "never mind," he says. "it was nice to see you."
"bye san," you manage to get out before you turn the corner, hands sweaty and heart doing funny flips in your chest.
you hadn't told violet about your visit, so when jen lets you into the room you hear an excited squeal followed by a pair of small arms wrapped around your legs. violet looks up at you proudly, a spot of something on her cheek. you forget sometimes, just how much she looks like san, but your exchange outside has him fresh on the brain. she has his smile. you shake the thoughts from your head and try to take a step, but violet won't budge.
"hey sugar," you laugh, ruffling her hair with your free hand. "go back to your seat, school's not over yet."
"but-"
"violet, do you want to show your mom where to put the bags she brought?" jen offers, and you send her a thankful look. violet tugs on your hand, bringing you over to the "treasure box" which is really just a filing cabinet jen must have filled with candy and toys. violet shows you each drawer, and you make her look away as you place the candy in it's appropriate drawer so it won't ruin the surprise for now. satisfied with her work, violet goes back to her seat as the bell rings for dismissal. you organize some of the other things you brought on jen's desk as she goes over reminders for the class, and then the first few rounds of students start leaving.
"thanks for bringing all this," jen says as she joins you.
"do you need help putting them together?" you ask, and she thinks for a moment.
"no, i don't want to keep you," she starts.
"well, i think i'm stuck for a while anyway," you inform her. "i had to park in a faculty spot, and carpool-"
"oh yeah, you're definitely stuck," jen laughs. "let me get everything set up, and then you can start while i help the rest of the kids leave, if you don't mind?"
"not at all!" you assure her, looking out to find violet watching you both like a hawk. "do you think we'll need another set of hands though?" jen follows your gaze and laughs before waving violet over. the three of you get everything set up, and you ask violet about her day as jen organizes the next group of kids for bus call.
"it was good!" violet says happily. "i liked lunch today."
"what did they have?"
"chicken sammiches," she says, and you laugh.
"sandwiches, baby," you tell her. "sammiches is a me and you word, but some people may not know what that means."
"i like chicken sandwiches and chicken sammiches," she nods. "and then we had pe and a boy in my class threw up. he had pizza."
"gross," you crinkle your nose. "you liked pe though?"
"yeah, it was fun!" violet goes off on a tangent about all the games, and jen rejoins you to help finish the bags. the three of you fall into comfortable conversation with violet as the life of the party. you like jen, you find yourself thinking. you hope it's not weird to be friends with your kid's teacher, because you could really use one here. you're lost in that thought, so you don't notice when someone appears in the doorway.
"mr. choi!" violet chirps, abandoning her task and rushing to meet him. never met a stranger, your child, because she's tugging his hand and bringing him over to you. "this is mommy."
"that's not her name though, is it violet?" jen asks, ever the teacher.
"y/n," san nods, and you don't miss the way jen looks from you to san to violet and back again. "did you get tricked into staying late?"
"no, i offered," you reply. "but i didn't have a choice, i didn't listen to your advice and couldn't leave before carpool started."
"you're all good now," he says, holding up his reflective vest all crumpled in his big hand. "just sent the last kid home."
"good to know," you nod. "vi, where's your stuff? we'll leave soon."
"no!" she whines. "i don't wanna leave!"
"don't you want a snack though?" you tempt her, and that sends the mini menace into motion.
"to what do i owe the pleasure of you stinking up my classroom, choi?" jen asks.
"i wanted to talk to you about the kid that threw up today," he says, and you must look at him confused because he asks you if anything's wrong.
"are you the pe teacher here?"
"yep," he answers. "i didn't know this was your violet," he says, nodding his head toward your kid. "she's a sweetheart. ball of energy too."
"you're telling me," you smile softly. violet walks over then, informing you that she's ready to go. you ask jen if there's anything else you can do, but she insists on you taking violet home.
"you've helped enough, believe me," jen tells you. "i'll see you tomorrow violet!"
"bye miss jen!" violet says with a smile. "bye mr. choi! i hope no one pukes on you tomorrow!"
jen waits for you and your kid to be far enough down the hall before she asks calmly. "so. how do you know y/n?"
"we, uh, we go way back," san says. "went to school together, college, all that."
"oh, so you like, really know her," jen says, a plan brewing in her head. she saw the way san looked at you. she also knows you're single. "you didn't know her kid went here?"
"didn't know she had a kid at all," san shakes his head, and he seems to get lost in a thought before he remembers what he came here for. "anyway, this kid today, you gotta tell him not to eat so much before pe..."
-
you and san didn't grow up together, exactly, but you have known him since high school. you floated around similar groups of friends, so you hung out regularly without ever getting too close. it wasn't until college that you actually became friends. you both went to a local school, at least as local as you can get for your small town. living in a city all by yourself was intimidating, but you weren't worried about not making friends. you knew they would come.
the day of your orientation, san saw you sitting by yourself in the auditorium and immediately recognized you. he brushed off his sweaty hands before walking over and softly calling your name. when you registered who he was, you smiled and invited him to sit next to you. both happy to see a familiar face, you spent the rest of orientation attached at the hip. in fact, you spent the rest of your time at school like that. san was your best friend, nothing more. he didn't always feel that way, but he did a good job of hiding his feelings. he was able to hide how he felt about you all the way up to the final semester of your senior year.
you were thriving, one of those seniors itching to finish school and get out into the real world. you knew you were just months away from a successful career, and you wouldn't let anything get in your way. you liked that you didn't know what was coming next or where you would end up after graduation. the prospect of moving to a new city, hell, maybe a new country, was exciting. this restlessness is what made san speak up. he was ready to graduate too, sure, but he was ready to get out of the city. san always wanted to be a teacher, and he already had offers all across the state, but the only job he cared about was in his hometown. it's where he wanted to be, and he knew that if he didn't tell you how he felt now, he may never get the chance. he wanted you to know so he could at least have a chance with you, even for a little while.
so he confessed, one night early in the semester. he was walking you home, his dorm only a few doors down from yours. at the door to your dorm he pulled you into a hug, which was normal for him. san was always a touchy friend, but what he said as he pulled away still bounces around in your head.
"y/n, i think i'm in love with you," he said earnestly. you looked in his eyes, trying to find the beginnings of a smile, some hint of a secret, that this was a joke. but he was serious. when you didn't say anything he shrugged, stepped away, and added, "i just wanted you to know."
you still don't know if it was shock or fear that kept you from saying anything that night, from calling his name and pulling him back in. but you didn't say anything then, you didn't say anything for months. san pretended like it never happened, and you just went along.
it didn't come up again until the going away party at the end of the year. school was over, finals done, and graduation was days away. everyone wanted to celebrate the past four years and freak out over what was next, all sharing where they were going and how scared they were. san was moving back home to be a teacher and wasn't scared at all. you were leaving for a bigger and better city the day after graduation and you were terrified.
later, san pulled you to the side and asked if you were ok. you knew he was referring to the job stuff, but you had other things on your mind. you were a little tipsy, so you decide that's why you leaned in and kissed him. it was quick, soft, barely a kiss, but you did it. you kissed him and pulled back faster than san could think, his eyes still closed when you parted and said, "i just wanted to know what it would feel like."
you were able to avoid him for the rest of the party, enjoying your last few hours with some of your best friends. you had an early morning, so you stopped drinking before everyone else and found yourself as a designated walker at the end of the night. you and san were elected to walk a few friends back to their dorms, dropping them off as you passed each building on your own walk home. inevitably, you were left alone with san at your door like that night months ago. san looked like he wanted to say something, and you didn't want him to leave, so instead of separating at the door you invited him in.
you'll never forget that night, and neither will san. but with your paths parting in a few days, you thought it would be something you could move on from eventually. a few weeks later, in your new city, at the perfect job, you found out you were pregnant. it hurt, the decision to not tell san, but the thought of stopping your life before it even started hurt more. you figured you would never see san again, or that you could at least keep the kid a secret if you ever hung out with your college friends again. you never thought that you'd somehow end up moving your daughter to the neighborhood where san grew up, or that the great school you fought to enroll her in could possibly be where san currently worked. but that's life, isn't it? or fate. or maybe just dumb luck. whatever it was, the universe was trying to get you to tell the truth and you're not sure you're ready to do that. to yourself, to violet, or to san.
-
san can't stop thinking about you. he tries so hard to catch a glimpse of you during carpool, but he's too busy focusing on a million other things and never manages to find you. he tries to think about how he could use violet to talk to you, like sending a note home with her, but that's inappropriate. he needs to see you again, though. that's when he gets an idea.
you and jen have become genuine friends, which has made things confusing for violet only because she treats jen like her teacher in casual settings. you met up for dinner the other night and violet raised her hand to ask jen a question, so hopefully she'll get used to it. san knows you two are close, and he knows if he asks jen about you she'll tell him whatever he wants to know.
at lunch one day he finds jen in the teacher's lounge and motions to the empty seat at her table. she lets him sit, but warns, "wooyoung saved the other seats for himself, so leave now if you want to."
wooyoung, one of the third grade teachers, was actually one of san's best friends. he's a hand full, yes, but fiercely loyal and caring. san doesn't necessarily want him to hear the conversation he wanted to have with jen, but oh well. as soon as san has that thought, wooyoung is bursting through the door with a stack of plastic containers from the lunchroom in his arms.
"m'lady," he nods to jen as he passes her a container. he looks to san and asks, "you want one bro?"
"what's in it?" san asks skeptically, and wooyoung shows off a stack of chicken sandwiches. "seriously?"
"hey, they're really good," jen pipes up. "the kids are lucky they get to eat these."
"how did you get so many?" san asks wooyoung as he takes a sandwich anyway.
"flirted with the lunch ladies."
"course you did," jen rolls her eyes, taking a bite of the sandwich. she chuckles to herself, and then shares, "you know, there's a kid in my class who calls these sammiches? no matter how many times you correct her, she won't say anything else. she told me this morning she didn't want to come to school, but she did because it was sammich day."
that's violet. san knows it is. he heard a snippet of your conversation in jen's classroom weeks ago, but he also knows he's heard violet say something similar when she comes to the gym. she loves those sandwiches, and san must admit, now that he's tried one he gets the hype. this is his shot though, he thinks to himself. he clears his throat and asks, "that's y/n's girl right?"
"who's y/n?" wooyoung asks, and jen responds, "san's girlfriend."
"no she's not," san says quickly. "she's kidding."
"you like her though?" wooyoung smirks, and san shakes his head.
"i-it's not like that," san explains. "i knew her a long time ago, and haven't seen her for a few years. that's all."
"so what about her?" jen asks.
"what do you mean?"
"well you brought her up," jen laughs. "you want me to tell her you asked about her? that feels very elementary of you, san."
"no, no, i was just, uh," san racks his brain for a response, "um, she's your room mom right? i may need to talk to her, for um, uh, field day."
"sure," jen nods. "i can give you her number, if you don't have it?"
"yeah, yeah," san nods too, "sure, if you think that'll be ok. i mean, i just needed to ask something, really quick, but, um, sure, yeah."
"if you really need to talk to her, she's coming in tomorrow i think," jen says, checking her phone. "yeah, tomorrow is violet's birthday, so y/n is bringing cupcakes at lunch. you can just stop by my class table and ask her whatever you need to ask her."
"oh, cool, great," san nods. wooyoung and jen share a quiet laugh, noticing that san seems like a bobblehead nodding so nervously. "yeah, tomorrow. lunch tomorrow. i'll be here."
-
you're running late. it's your kid's frickin birthday and you're late. you wanted to be supermom, make cupcakes from scratch, but work has been crazy on top of all the prep for violet's party, and you're just one woman. you can't do all of this by yourself, and it's times like these that you wish...no. that's not where you're going to let your mind wander today. today is all about violet, so as you rush out of the grocery store, you handle the store bought cupcakes with intense care. you can't be late and show up with smushed cupcakes.
thankfully this town is small enough that everything is within spitting distance, so you arrive at violet's school with just a few minutes left in her lunch. you hurry through the check in, rushing off to where you hope the lunchroom is. it would be just your luck to get lost right now, but you let out a breath of relief when you turn the corner and see the cafeteria ahead. you have to pause at the door to look for her class, and you hold back a sob when you see one very broad shouldered man sitting next to your beautiful daughter. you manage to walk up without violet seeing you, but at the sound of your footsteps, san turns. he smiles at you softly and he looks so much like violet it hurts. your eyes drift to your daughter, who's noticed you now and bounces in her seat.
"hey birthday girl," you say meekly, clearing your throat before you speak again. "how's your day been?"
"good!" violet smiles, showing you a half eaten vanilla cupcake with purple icing. "mr. choi brought me birthday cake!"
"aw, that's sweet," you say, looking to san. he's staring at you intensely as you ask, "did you tell him thank you?"
"i did!" violet confirms, but she turns to san and repeats, "thank you, it was yummy."
"do you have room for another?" you ask her, holding up the cupcakes you brought. violet already looks ready to bounce off the walls, so you'll have to apologize to jen later, but you ask if she wants to help pass out cupcakes to her friends. you hold the containers as she carefully hands out the treats, and you're pleased to know there were plenty of cupcakes for everyone. actually, there's some left over, so you start packing them up to take home but violet stops you.
"mommy, we need to give mr. choi one," she tells you, and you look to san sheepishly. "and there's one for you too, mommy!"
"i guess we're having cupcakes," you chuckle with san, offering him one of the last two cupcakes. "vi, can i take your spot?" she nods eagerly, letting you sit on the hilariously tiny lunch chair. you struggle balancing on it and look up to see san watching, trying not to laugh. violet is oblivious though, icing smeared all over her face as she talks to her friend across the table. "hey, no laughing. it's been a long day."
"sorry," san says, the remnants of a smile still on his face. "you doing alright?"
"i'm fine," you sigh slightly. you look at san again, really look at him, and you feel your heart constrict. "thank you for bringing her a cupcake."
"oh, sure," san says. "i didn't want to overstep, but jen told me yesterday, and i figured violet could at least take it home, but when i got here and didn't see, uh...you weren't here-"
"you can say it, i was late to my own kid's birthday," you laugh, rubbing your hand over your face. san finds himself staring at your fingers and something pops into his head.
"and again i ask, you doing alright?" he laughs with you. "being a parent must be hard."
"it has its bad days," you admit. "but for every bad day there's hundreds of good ones, so it makes the whole single parenting thing a little easier."
there it is. single. san looks down to your hands again, and has to hide his satisfied smirk. there's no ring.
"so, what-" san starts to ask, but the bell dings and the cafeteria erupts in even more sound. students talking, teachers yelling, chairs scraping as everyone is set in motion. jen walks over then, smiling when she sees you and san sat so close together. she waves hello before calling for her class, and you give violet a big squeezey hug and a kiss on the forehead before she takes her food and runs off. san watches you watching violet, and now it's his turn for his heart to twist. he's missed you. a lot.
"i guess i better go," you say as you gather all of the cupcake trash. san covers his hands over yours, stilling your movements and your heart, and says, "let me, i'll clean up."
"th-thank you san," you say shyly, and he waves you off. he can feel your eyes on him as he walks to the trash cans, and he can't help it, when he turns around he pulls a face that used to always make you laugh. his success rate is still high, because a beautiful giggle appears from deep within your chest, and then san is standing back in front of you. you know him, and you know there's something he wants to say, so you ask, "are you doing alright?"
"i'm fine," he nods, and you playfully push his shoulder. he smiles as he goes on, "actually, i was thinking about it, and i'll need your new number. for field day purposes, of course."
"oh," you breathe. "oh, right. room mom stuff. um, well unless you deleted my contact info, my number is the same."
"oh."
"yeah."
"right, then i guess i'm good," san says, looking around for any last bits of trash. "always good seeing you, y/n. tell violet happy birthday again from me."
"will do," you squeak out, calling out your thanks to him one last time as he walks away. you're left in the now silent lunchroom, heart and mind racing.
-
"i'm just saying, you and san would make a cute couple," jen repeats for what feels like the millionth time today. she's come over to your house early to help set up violet's birthday party, and you're thankful for the help but wishing the set up was less obvious. "you already know each other, so it's not like you'd have to go through that awkward dating phase-"
"did we put balloons on the mailbox already?" you cut through her words, grabbing a couple pink and purple balloons from the pile on the table. "i'll do that now, so people know which house it is. if vi wakes up, tell her i'll make birthday pancakes as soon as i'm done."
"will do," jen salutes you, taking the remaining balloons into the living room. "i'll tack these to the ceiling or something."
"please don't!" you call out before you shut the door, and you take a deep breath when you're outside alone. you don't know how to make jen stop talking about san, and it's draining. you've tried changing the subject and she always finds a way to bring san back into it. she means well, you know that. but what she doesn't know is that everything she says about san just rubs salt in the wound you inflicted on yourself, and it's getting harder to ignore. you're either going to snap and tell her to shut up, or you're going to snap and admit to what you've been hiding. either option isn't ideal, so fingers crossed violet wakes up soon and you can use her as a buffer.
tying the balloons to your mailbox ended up being more of an ordeal than you thought, so it takes you a while to trudge back into the house. you're tired already and the party hasn't started yet. you're making another cup of coffee when you realize the house is quiet, no sounds of jen and no sounds of vi. you let the coffee pot run as you walk around in search of the girls, and you hear a faint noise coming from the backyard. a peek through the window shows jen and violet running streamers from the back porch to vi's playset, and your heart warms. while they're outside, you get to work on the birthday pancakes in peace. you're almost done with them when you get a call, groaning to yourself thinking it's a parent calling about the party. you don't check the name before you answer, letting out a perfectly nice, "hello?"
"y/n, hi," san says on the other line. "is this a bad time?"
"um, n-no," you stammer, "it's um, no, i can talk. just for a minute."
"if you're busy i can call back-"
"no, san, go ahead," you insist. "just be warned i'm making pancakes, so i am a little distracted."
"oh yeah, you used to suck at those," san teases, and for a moment you're thrown back to college. you remember san staying over at your dorm, claiming he was too drunk to walk the fifteen steps down the hall. you let him crash on your floor, and he woke up to an awful hangover and the sound of you cursing over your batch of blackened pancakes. trying to be nice, san tried one anyway. you'll never forget the way you both belly laughed after he lied and said they were good with a look of fear in his eyes. later he admitted he'd never had something so bad, and you swore to never make pancakes again. san obviously remembers, because he asks, "what made you stop the pancake ban?"
"they're for vi's birthday."
"her birthday was on tuesday i thought?"
"yeah, but we're having her party today," you explain, and then you clap your hand to your forehead. you shouldn't have said anything.
"oh then i won't keep you," san says quickly. there's something strange in his voice, but you're so far removed from him that you can't pick up on it. "i hate to call about school stuff on the weekend, but this is the only time i had..."
while san explains the reason for his call (room mom duties + he missed you, but he leaves that part out), jen and violet come in from the backyard. streamers are done, and violet is wearing a torn one around her neck like a scarf. you wave her over for a hug and a kiss, and jen mouths, "who are you talking to?" so you show your phone screen. she gasps when she sees it's san, and it's like you're watching a lightbulb spring from her head. she's got an idea.
"invite him to the party!" jen hisses, and you push her away.
"is that the birthday girl?" san asks, and there's a softness in his voice that makes you melt. "do you need to go?"
"no, just one of the birthday elves being annoying," you grumble, trying to elbow away from jen but she grabs your phone anyway and says a cheery hello to her coworker.
"hey san! happy saturday," she starts off. "listen, are you doing anything around, say, one o'clock?"
"uh, not that i can think of-"
"great! then i'll have y/n text you her address, you should come to violet's party. there's plenty of food, and we'd love to see you!" jen says with an evil smile plastered on her face.
"um, can you hand me back to y/n?" san asks, and jen relinquishes your phone then disappears.
"san, you do not have to come if you don't want to, jen is-"
"jen's what!?" jen shouts from somewhere within your house.
"i want to come," san says, and you're so surprised you almost drop the pancake you're trying to flip. "if that's ok."
"i..." you trail off, and then you look at violet. sweet, lovely violet. you would do anything for that girl, but you know she deserves more. she deserves both parents, and the little part of you that's been wondering if san's reappearance was a sign is the part that wins you over. you say, "yeah, come to the party. i want you here."
"then i'm there," san says, and you can hear his smile. "should i bring a present?"
"no, god, don't worry about that. girl's spoiled already, she doesn't need another toy," you tell him, and san laughs.
"alright. then text me the address, and i'll see you soon i guess."
"yeah, see you soon," you mumble as you hang up and look around for jen. she's rightfully hiding somewhere, but violet's voice distracts you as she asks who you were talking to. "well sugar, i have an extra birthday surprise for you," you say as you plate her pancakes. "mr. choi might be coming to your party, is that ok?"
"mr. choi?!" violet shrieks as she stands in her chair. you remind her not to do that and she listens, but she looks at you and asks, "for seriously? he's my favorite teacher."
"hey," jen whines as she rejoins you, throwing away the remnants of wrapping paper in her hands. "and to think i got you the biggest coolest birthday present ever."
"really?" you and violet ask in unison, and jen nods enthusiastically at your daughter. when she joins you at the sink she whispers, "i didn't go overboard."
"yes you did," you whisper back.
"what did san want?" jen asks with that evil smile again, and you try to elbow her side but she darts away too quickly.
"i had told him about the game the kinder moms wanted our grade to do for field day, and he forgot what supplies it needed," you explain. "so he was calling about that, and the call was almost over when someone interrupted."
"y/n, listen," jen says sternly, and you both look over to violet to make sure she's distracted. jen keeps her voice down as she continues, "he likes you. don't ask me how i know, but i know. and the way you get so nervous around him, i know it sounds childish, but i think you have a crush on him-"
"jen," you say seriously. "please stop. you don't know what you're doing."
"no, y/n, you don't know what you're doing!" jen says, and you step back. "no, i don't mean it like that. i just mean, you said you were having a hard time doing this on your own. it may not be my place, but i think san could help. he'd be good for you and violet."
"you remember how san and i were friends years ago?" you ask, and jen nods, about to add to her case, but you cut her off. "we were close. really close."
"did you kiss?" jen asks excitedly and you roll your eyes.
"will you focus?" you smile anyway, and add, "we spent most of our time together, but then life stuff changed. we went in completely different directions, and it was just easier to say goodbye and go our separate ways. that was five years ago. well, six, now i guess," you correct yourself, your eyes betraying you as they flick back over to violet.
"oh my god," jen gasps. "no."
"yes."
"no way."
"yes."
"you're a liar."
"mommy's not a liar," violet chimes in, and you let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. "miss jen, that wasn't very nice."
"i'm sorry violet, you're right," jen says calmly. she looks closely at violet and then to you. "but sometimes what's right is hard to do."
"i know that," you sigh. "believe me. but we can talk about this later."
"you bet your ass we are!"
"miss jen!"
"sorry, sorry!"
-
you and jen do a good job of ignoring the truth bomb you set off just before guests started arriving, but knowing san will be here soon keeps you on edge all day. violet is having the time of her life, which takes a little bit of pressure off of you at least. you just have to play host to your family and friends all while keeping one eye on the door for san.
he arrives just past one. you heard the doorbell from the backyard, but as you're walking through the house you see your aunt opening the door for him. it opens to a stunning version of the man you've tried so hard to hide from, and just looking at him makes you blush. he's dressed casually, but nicer than the work out clothes you see him in at the school. jeans and a sweater, and glasses. san never wore glasses in school, and you're wondering why this news is making your stomach flip. when san finds you, his face lights up. he makes his way around a group of kids and pulls you into a polite hug, mumbling his greeting into your hair. you wish time would stop for a moment, let you stay in his hold a second longer. but he's pulling away and shyly presenting a gift bag, his sheepish eyes saying "sorry but not sorry."
"i told you not to bring anything," you scoff, taking the gift over to the present table anyway.
"it's something small, but i think she'll like it," san says, and you thank him. it's awkward for a second as you both search for something to say, but in the quiet san reaches to push his glasses further up his nose and you smile.
"so you getting old, choi?" you tease him, pointing to the glasses. "how long have you needed those for?"
"just a couple years," san shrugs. "i don't mind them, but it's easier to wear contacts at work. i actually like the way they look."
"they're cute," you agree, and you feel your heart thudding in your chest as san processes the compliment. he looks around your house then, and he distractedly puts an arm around you in another hug as he says, "your house is great, by the way. you've really made a life for yourself, y/n." he looks at you while he says the next part, "i hope you're proud of yourself."
"i am," you nod, suddenly very aware of how many people are here and possibly looking at you two. you feign a cough and san gets the hint. he pulls away and you immediately feel cold, but you catch a glimpse of jen eyeing you in the corner of the room. you shake off whatever was distracting you because of the man at your side, and you're about to excuse yourself to find violet when the woman in question appears below you.
"mr. choi!!!" she shouts as she jumps in place. "you're here!"
"i am!" he replies, holding hands and jumping with violet. "are you having fun?"
"yeah! cmere, i wanna show you my swings!" she says excitedly, and then san is being dragged outside. you follow at a safe distance, wanting to see how they interact without making it too obvious you're watching san and not your kid. some of the school kids present recognize a big kid in san and soon he's got a whole herd following him around. you laugh seeing him be so silly, so freely himself with these kids, and you wonder if this is what he's like as a teacher. then you find your mind wandering to what san would be like as a dad. you know he'd be great, so what are you doing?
you know you have to tell him. you see the way violet is smiling and laughing, and you can't keep this kind of joy from her anymore. you don't know when, and you don't know how, but you will tell san that he's the father of your daughter.
-
violet's birthday party was perfect. she had an amazing time, her friends had an amazing time, and you had an amazing time. with san. he fit back into your life perfectly, and as you were saying your goodbyes at the end of the night, you had the intense desire to kiss him. you didn't, but that's only because jen came over with a sleepy violet that she thrust into your arms. you and san were cooing over the tired party girl and jen inconspicuously snapped a picture of the three of you. you and san, looking down at violet with so much love in your eyes, and violet smiling her biggest smile. jen texted it to you later and you were grateful to have this moment captured forever.
you were staring at that photo now, waiting for violet to finish getting ready for school. you weren't really paying attention to the time, caught up in admiring san. you felt a sense of calm and safety when you thought of him, looked at him, and you're kicking yourself for keeping that same feeling from violet's life. you were so distracted by your thoughts that you didn't hear violet walk up, so you almost jumped out of your skin when she says, "whatcha doooin?" directly into your ear.
"oh baby you scared me," you gasp. she giggles and points to your phone.
"you were staring at mr. choi!"
"i was not," you roll your eyes, but she nods and goes, "yeah huh."
"i'm not getting into a yeah huh nuh uh fight with you right now," you say as you ruffle her hair. "you ready for school?" it's then that you give her a once over and screw your face up in confusion. "where's that shirt from? i don't remember buying you that."
"it was my gift from mr. choi, 'member?" violet says proudly as she shows it off.
"yeah, yeah, i guess i do," you reply. "you wanted to wear it to school?"
"so i can tell him thank you," she says simply, and you place a soft kiss on her forehead. your sweet girl.
"i'm sure he'll be happy to see it. c'mon, let's go."
-
san had an awful morning. none of the classes would listen to him, half of his equipment for this unit was broken or missing, and apparently he was getting evaluated this afternoon. nothing was wrong, it was just protocol, but why did he find out about it two hours before it was supposed to happen? he was stressed, unprepared, and wearing a t shirt that apparently has a hole in the armpit. one of the unruly classes so kindly pointed that out for him. so yeah, it's been a bad day. that's why he sat down at lunch with a huff, interrupting whatever jen and wooyoung had been talking about prior to his dramatic entrance.
"what's wrong with you?" wooyoung asks bluntly, and san scoffs.
"one of those days where i'm considering child abandonment."
"san!" jen gasps.
"i'm joking, chill out," he sighs. "i just. can today be over? i'd like it to be over. or can i get a redo? that might be better, considering i have an eval today i know i'm not gonna pass."
"if you go into it like that then duh you're gonna do bad," jen says. "but it hasn't even happened yet, so why be so negative?"
"whatever," san huffs again, poking at his food like it's the root of his bad day. "how has your day been."
"great, my kids are angels and i love my job," wooyoung jokes, so san kicks him under the table.
"your class was the first one to put me in a bad mood this morning."
"yeah, because i told them i accidentally killed our class pet."
"wooyoung!" jen gasps again.
"accidentally!"
"how'd you manage that?" san asks with the beginnings of a smile on his face. not that he was laughing over the death of a very tiny pet, no. but he did enjoy seeing wooyoung making mistakes. makes the world go round, he thinks.
"i forgot to take it home for the weekend and i came in this morning to bob the beta fish belly up," wooyoung explains. he raises his carton of strawberry milk in a toast, which san and jen play along with. "he didn't live long, i didn't like him, and the kids barely knew he was there. bob, may you rest in peace."
"this isn't making me feel better," san whines as they clink their drinks together.
"oh!" jen says happily, "i have something!" she shuffles around looking for her phone, and excitedly pulls something up for san to see. she shoves the screen so close to his face he can barely see anything, so he takes her phone and blinks to let his eyes adjust. he smiles immediately when he realizes it's the picture of him, you, and violet. he's so mesmerized by your beauty, all these years later, that it takes him a minute to shift his focus to the equally beautiful violet squeezed between you. she's perfect, san thinks. if he had a kid, he'd want her to be just like violet: kind, funny, full of energy and life.
"who is that?" wooyoung asks, pushing his face close to san's to catch a glimpse. "ooo, is that your milf?"
it's jen's turn to kick him underneath the table, but san must admit, that was a little funny. he doesn't answer right away, though. something about the picture has caught his attention.
"no," jen says sternly since san has gone mute. "that's my friend y/n and her kid violet, we've talked about them before. san came to her birthday party this weekend."
"the milf?!"
"no!" jen repeats. "violet. i helped y/n with the party, and since she and san go way back, i kinda invited san without her knowing."
"nice," wooyoung nods. "good. get him into the house, and then into her heart. maybe the pants too-"
"dude," san finally cuts in. "what's wrong with you?"
"you two are boring me," he sighs. "sue me if i wanted to have a little fun with our conversation."
"you took this?" san asks jen, ignoring wooyoung now. she says yes, so he asks, "can i send it to myself? do you think y/n would mind?"
"no, i think that's fine," jen replies with a smile. "go ahead."
"thanks," san mumbles, typing his number in quickly to send the photo. he doesn't want to seem weird, sitting here staring at it, but there's still something he can't quite put his finger on. something familiar about it. not quite deja vu, but like he's seen this before. he hands jen's phone back to her, and she continues some inane argument with wooyoung as san checks his phone. huh, he thinks, taking one last look at the photo as he saves it to his library. violet sure has a nice smile.
-
san's day does not get better. the evaluation was mediocre at best, but the assistant principal doing the visit pulled him aside and promised better equipment in the new year. at least one good thing came out of this awful day.
well, two good things. san keeps opening his phone just to stare at that picture of himself with you and violet. his desire to patch things up with you only continues to grow, and he's been thinking about you so much that he swears he hears your voice calling his name at the end of the day. then a squeakier, tinier voice joins in, and san realizes, oh shit, you and violet are in his office.
"hey, sorry," he shakes his head to clear his thoughts. "god, sorry. how long were you standing there?"
"not long," you assure him. "i hope we're not bothering you?"
"not at all," he says as he stands. violet runs up to him then, turning from side to side with her hands clasped in front of her. san laughs, looking from her to you as he asks, "what's going on?"
"vi had a surprise for you, and she forgot she didn't have pe today so she got into the car crying because you didn't get to see it," you explain. "we turned around as soon as i got the story, and now we're here. do you recognize her shirt at all?"
"oh my god!" san smiles, violet joining in. san bends down to pick her up and swings her around to the sound of giggles. "you're wearing my present! do you like it?"
"i do!" she chirps, hiccuping a little as the giggles continue. san slows and carefully places her back down as she says, "thank you for coming to my party."
"thank you for inviting me," san replies, and you realize he's talking to you. you consider telling him now, you can feel his gaze pulling the words right out of you, but you chicken out.
"thank jen," you remind him. "she's the one who ambushed me."
"ambush?" san laughs nervously. "i hope me coming over wasn't an ambush."
"i shouldn't have said that," you shake your head. "i just." you take a deep breath. "it's been hard, you know, seeing you again. getting used to you being back in my life."
"happy to be here," san says coolly, and you pick up on the undertones. you knew he must have been upset with you, only wanting him when you couldn't have him. he'd given you so many chances to be his, but you grasped the last one. san was mad at himself first, and he's not mad at you per se, but the memory of that still hurts. he could have been in your life, violet's life, this whole time. it was you who kept the door bolted shut. now it's like there's little cracks filtering in bits of sunlight, and you're basking in them. you're just afraid that the warmth you feel from san now will burn you someday, that your past will be too hard to get over, and you can't tell him about violet until you know how he really feels.
"listen, we should go, but i want to hang out with you soon," you tell him, and san looks at you confused. "we need to catch up, don't you think?"
"sure," san agrees. "let me know where to be and when, i'll make it work."
-
that friday night, you have a babysitter (jen) and plans to meet san for dinner. jen is already here, you can hear her and violet whispering about something in the living room as you finish getting ready. this is not a date, but you're so nervous it might as well be. you could end up telling san tonight, if things go right. and if they go wrong...that's what's making you so nervous. the anxious side of you is already thinking of schools you can move violet to if the night goes bad, and the optimist is thinking about san finally being a dad to violet.
it's like he knew you were thinking about him, because his caller id lights up your phone (yes, his contact photo is that picture).
"you're cancelling," you say as soon as you pick up.
"what? no, freak," san chuckles. "i'm outside, but i'm sorry, i can't remember if your house has the red door or the blue one."
"you're what?" you ask, walking from your room to the front door. jen and violet watch on in curiosity, and you let out a sound of disbelief when you open the door to see san, standing by his car, looking from your house to the one next door.
"oh. found it," he teases, hanging up as he comes to the door. "you're not ready yet?"
"no, because i thought we were meeting there, i had more time," you say as you check your phone and notice you actually did not have time. "ok, i thought i had more time, but still. you didn't say you were picking me up."
"surprise?" san says sheepishly, peeking inside to wave to the girls.
"hi mr. choi!" they respond in unison, and san chuckles again.
"um, well, i wasn't expecting- i still have to-" you stammer out, basically turning in circles before staring back up at san. "give me two minutes."
"two? it'll be more like ten," san calls after you. you sort of sprint back to your room, checking that you look put together. your eyes look nervous, though. you hope san can't pick up on that. you grab your favorite necklace, one that violet picked out for you recently, and hold onto the heart pendant as you take a deep breath. you can do this. it's just san, your old pal! your friend! the father of your daughter who has no idea his life could have been completely different or that it's going to change with the information you're about to give him! great! let's go eat some tacos!
you and san both give violet hugs goodbye (she insisted) and jen says goodbye with a wiggle of her eyebrows. she thinks this is a date, and she spent an appropriate amount of time hyping you up tonight. she's known san more recently, so she gave you good insight on the whole telling him situation. she assured you that, while he may be frustrated by you not telling him sooner, under it all he'll be happy. he's wanted a family of his own since he started working at the school, so she's sure he'll be nothing but thrilled once the initial shock wears off. boy do you hope she's right.
-
san is being such a gentleman. first picking you up, then rushing out of the car to open your door for you, pulling your chair out at the restaurant...it's making this feel like a date. it's also making you scared that you're going to chicken out, but you can't.
"so," san says with a :] smile. "what did you want to talk about?" you take a moment to mess with the chips and salsa in front of you before you respond. you're taking so long that san takes a deep breath and starts, "i hope you know i'm not mad at you."
"what?" you ask in a small voice, chip halfway to your mouth.
"i'm not mad at you," san goes on. "i never was. i hope you know that."
"but i was a dick," you tell him, and he lowers his head with a laugh. you want him to listen to you though, so you grab his hand laid out on the table and squeeze. "no, seriously, that was such an asshole move on my part. only letting down my walls and letting you in the night before we both moved away? i've never forgiven myself for that."
"but you should," san shrugs. "i understand. i'm glad it happened. if i had to choose, i'd rather it happen the exact same way than not happen at all."
"right," and now it's your turn to look down. you let go of san's hand and go back to messing with the food in front of you. "i'm still sorry for how i acted."
"it's ok, i promise," san assures you. you aren't looking at him so he clears his throat and says, "actually, while we're talking about...back then. i have something to tell you too." oh no, you think. you nod to encourage him to continue, not sure you can speak right now. "um, well, here goes. i know it's been years, and we've barely talked since school, but..i don't know, y/n. i still think you're the one for me, and i was just wondering, maybe, since we're both in the same town again, and we see each other so often..."
"what, san?" you whisper, afraid of what he's going to say.
"will you go out with me?" he asks. "finally?"
"san," you sigh, and he shakes his head.
"no, don't say no yet. you can think about it. i know you have a lot more to consider than i do, so i don't mind waiting. but i wanted to put it out there. in case, uh, in case you were interested."
"put it out there? why are you talking about this like a couch you're trying to get rid of?" you tease him to ease the tension. "you just asked me out and now you sound like you're not sure."
"i'm sure," san says firmly. "very sure. but i don't want you to feel pressured."
"you've never made me feel anything but loved, san," you let slip, and you want to etch the look on his face into your memory forever. he looks so pleased, so purely happy at your words. they're hanging in the air as the waiter comes by to take your order, and that provides enough of a distraction that you both go back to a semblance of normalcy when he leaves. you fall into an easy conversation, catching up over your lost years. san tells you all about work, his family, his friends. it makes you happy that you chose this town, this school, to raise your kid in.
you fill san in too, but only the highlights. you don't want to ruin your dinner with the news, so you tell him about your career since he knows the least about that. he can't stop telling you how proud he is, and reiterates how amazing you are for raising a kid on top of it. you've got a steady blush on your cheeks as you keep chatting, and you notice then that the meal is over. your plates have been cleared for a while, and san paid without you knowing. how'd he do that?
"i was going to pay for my food," you protest.
"nope, my treat," san says. "let someone else take care of you for once."
"well thanks," you squeak out. "i've got you next time though."
"if there's a next time, i'm still paying," san replies so you roll your eyes and drop it for now. "um, before we go though, i was wondering...can i ask about violet? i feel like you barely mentioned her."
"oh, sorry," you laugh it off. "i don't get a chance to talk about myself a lot, so i'm not saying i forgot to mention vi, i just..."
"i get it," san nods in understanding. "you wanted to brag about yourself for a minute, that's ok. i'm glad you did."
"good," you smile shyly. "but, yeah, violet. what about her?"
"i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me," san says, and looking into your eyes, you know he means the father. "was there some great love of your life you don't want to tell me about?"
"san, it's not like that," you tell him, then think to yourself that in a way it is true. you think san is the love of your life, but you can't say that yet. "right, well, i have something to tell you, actually," you say in a voice stronger than you expected. you thought you'd be nervous, but it's like some mom power kicks in and you're able to stare directly into san's strong, gorgeous eyes as you speak. "can i?" you motion to his hands, and he holds them out so you can place your smaller ones in his. still looking into the eyes you've grown to love, you take a deep breath and say, "i'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner. but san, you're violet's dad. she's your daughter."
"what?" he asks in a shaky voice.
"when we.." you try to explain, and have to start over, "that night. five years ago-"
"six," san corrects.
"six, you're right. that night was when she...yeah. i found out about violet a month later, after i had moved. i tried calling you. i did, i swear, and i know that sounds so childish but it's the truth. i tried calling you, tried figuring out how to tell you...but i heard how happy you were, how easy it was for you to settle into your life back at home. i didn't want to throw something unexpected at you and change all of that."
you rambled, and you're not sure how easy that was to follow. or how believable it was either, but you've said it. you're watching san take it in, and he's unnervingly calm. you can't read his face at all, but you realize you've been squeezing his hands and he's squeezing yours right back. you relax your grip then, but he doesn't. he stays quiet.
"san, say something."
"th-thank you," he stutters, finally slipping his hands out of yours. "thanks for protecting me from that, i guess."
"san, i-"
"no, y/n, it's fine," he shakes his head and stands. "come on, let's go. it's getting late."
-
the car ride is silent. san says nothing, but you can feel the emotions radiating from him. or maybe those are your own? fear, resentment, sadness...you always thought telling san the truth would make everything better. make you feel at peace at last. but currently you feel more ill at ease than you ever have. you want to crawl out of your skin, you want to scream at yourself, at san, just to get some kind of reaction out of him.
when he pulls into your driveway, he puts the car in park but doesn't unlock the door. you can tell he wants to say something, so you wait. you think you see jen peeking through the blinds, but you're not sure. a quick glance at the clock tells you violet's been in bed for a while, but knowing jen she probably let her stay up a little longer. you hope she's still awake when you go in, you could really use a hug from her right now.
"y/n," san calls your name softly. you turn your body completely so he can see you fully, and you see he's gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. "does she know?"
"huh?"
"violet," san says her name so carefully, so purposefully. like it's taken on a new meaning. "does violet now i'm her dad?"
"n-no," you stutter, and san slumps his head down. "but i told her about you. about her dad."
"she looks just like me," he says, and that's when you notice the sadness in his voice. he sounds broken, and it feels like your heart rips itself to shreds.
"san, i am so sor-"
"don't. just don't." you watch him carefully, and you think you see tears. "i can't..."
"can't what?" you want to reach out and touch him, to brush the tears away, but you hesitate.
"i can't believe you kept this from me," he says in a whisper so small you barely heard it.
"i was young and stupid and scared, san," you defend yourself. "i didn't know what i was doing, i should have tried harder to get in touch but-"
"i didn't get to be there y/n," he spits out, and you stop talking as he turns to you. "i missed her birth, her first steps, her first words. i wasn't in her life! she's my kid and you kept her from me for some of the most important years of her life."
"i know, and i'm..i'm sorry."
"sorry doesn't cut it." he's full on crying now. "i thought...i thought you cared about me. about what we meant to each other. how could you do this?"
"i was wrong to keep you away," you admit. "it ate me alive every day, but the longer i waited the harder it was to call you. and this is totally self inflicted but raising a kid on my own was hard! after i made that choice i barely had time to think about anything else!" you're shouting now, not out of anger, but frustration. "it was selfish, and i'm sorry. but i told you. you've always been part of violet's life. i tell her about her dad all the time. she asks about you, and i've never lied to her. i only kept your name, who you are to me, a secret."
"yeah that makes me feel so much better," san rolls his eyes, and you scoff before reaching over him to unlock the doors. as soon as you do, you're out of the car and rushing to your front door, san running behind you calling your name.
you get into the house and see jen moving around in the kitchen, but no signs of violet. san has stopped behind you, standing awkwardly at the threshold, so you grab his shirt and pull him along with you into violet's room. at the sound of the door opening she bolts up in bed. she looks confused, seeing two figures in her doorway, but when she recognizes you she makes little grabby hands for you to join her. again, san stays at the door, watching the two of you with a new perspective.
"cmere sugar," you whisper softly, sitting on violet's bed. you maneuver her so she's sitting on your lap.
"why is mr. choi here?" she asks, and you hear san take in a breath.
"his name is san, violet. and he's very important to me," you explain. violet is facing san as you ask, "can you tell us all you know about your daddy?" she nods, and then begins.
"mommy says he's very nice, the nicest man in the world!" violet starts out. "she says he's smart and strong and funny and handsome. she says i have his smile!" and with this she smiles, teeth and all, and san sees himself in her. it brings tears to his eyes, but she keeps going. "mommy says he's caring, and i had to ask what that meant. she says being caring means you're a good friend and you're nice to everybody. that reminds me of you, mr. san!"
"anything else baby?" you ask violet, stroking her hair. "what else do we say about daddy?"
"we love him very much," violet answers proudly. "and even if he's not with us, like in the same house or something, he's always right here!" and with that she puts her hand over her heart. she looks up at you then, asking, "did i miss anything mommy?"
"nope, you got it all sugar," and you kiss the top of her head, afraid to meet san's eyes. "thank you, violet. are you ready to go back to bed now?"
"yeah, but i want a bedtime story," she pouts, and you wonder if san notices how similar they look then too. "babysitter jen does too many funny voices, and one of them scared me."
"ok, i'll read you a story," you whisper, slowly and carefully dumping her back into bed as you stand. "but i need to talk to san really quick, is that ok?"
"uh huh," violet nods with a yawn, cuddling back up to her favorite stuffie. as san looks around her room, he notices a pillow he used to have, tucked in the corner of violet's bed. he used to call it shiber, it was something silly, but he loved that thing in college. it went missing the week before school ended, and san always wondered where it went. well, now he knows.
you carefully pull violet's door shut as the two of you back out into the hallway. the rest of the house is quiet, so you wonder briefly if jen has gone home. you look to san, ready to defend yourself further, get him to understand where you're coming from, but then you see the tears on his cheeks. now you do reach up and wipe them away, his hands covering yours and squeezing tightly.
"i am so sorry for keeping you away," you say one last time. "it was wrong. it will take time, but i will do everything i can to make that up to you."
"you can do it right now," san breathes out, the first easy breath he's taken since this conversation started. "let me be in her life. in yours. i missed so much, i can't miss anymore of it."
"we're here if you want us," you tell him, and san squeezes your hands again before pulling them from his face. he drapes your arms over his shoulders, his drifting to your waist.
"i do," he nods eagerly. "i want you." and with that, he kisses you. it's not a soft kiss, no. there's more force behind it than that. there's six years (maybe more) of repressed feelings in that kiss. it's the kind of kiss that makes you want to pop your foot up, the kind that sends butterflies soaring up from your stomach through your chest. you're so lost in the feeling that you don't hear violet's door open, and then...
"oh! mommy! mr. san is biting you!" violet shrieks, so you and san finally detach. you keep your foreheads together as you look down at violet staring disapprovingly at you.
"he's not biting me, we were kissing," you explain to her, but she doesn't like that answer.
"hey, i got in trouble for kissing a boy on the playground," she whines, and san looks at you in shock. you nod to confirm as you tell her, "that's because you shouldn't kiss at school. and you're too young. you can kiss when you're-"
"thirty," san finishes for you, making you both laugh as violet whines more.
"i was just gonna say when she's older," you whisper to him, and he shrugs.
"had to assert my parenting style somehow."
"why are you and mr. san whispering?" violet asks with a jump and her arms in the air. you're about to pick her up when san bends down and scoops her instead, so you can talk to her eye level.
"we're talking about you," you say as you boop her nose. "and stop calling him mr. san."
"what do i call him then?" she pouts, and you share your first silent parent language stare with san.
"actually baby, we have something we need to tell you..."
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