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#how to write a successful business plan
edutechbits · 2 years
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writing a Good business plan? Want to be Successful in Business
writing a Good business plan? Want to be Successful in Business
writing a Good business plan? Want to be successful in business Having a business plan ready means discussing your business reasons, goals and objectives in detail in a written document. That will help you navigate the way. In this case, you must know how to design a business plan beautifully. Because no unplanned dream ever succeeds But it doesn’t last long. So let’s know what the rules of…
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yourlocallyneysimp · 1 year
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Just them laying on your thighs, lol
Characters: Scaramouche, Kazuha, Ayato, Venti, Dottore, Lyney, Xingqiu
A/N: Just posting this because my legs are skinny af and my thighs are nonextistant- I also had too much fun writing Dottore and Lyney's parts. 💀
Scaramouche:
Scaramouche thought it would be funny to embarrass you by laying on your thighs, but he ended up getting embarrassed himself.
He made sure no one was around before he approached his plan so he didn't hurt his pride, so taking his chance he layed down. He studied your facial expressions carefully thinking he had won, but instead of gettting flustered, you just looked down and smiled at him. This surprised him since he really thought you would get uncomfortable, but instead you were so casual with it as if this was a normal occurence. He immediately gets up trying to hide his red face, but it's before long that he's laying on your lap again.
Kazuha:
Kazuha usually likes to show his affection for you in private so when you two are alone he likes to hold hands, kiss, lay on your lap, etc.
Laying on your lap is usually a normal thing for him to do, especially if the weather is fairly nice that day. Sometimes he even falls asleep, and most of the time he tells you about haikus he came up with. Honestly this man love to lay on your thighs any chance he could get. That part of your body is reserved for him and him only.
Ayato:
Usually Ayato doesn't have time to show his affection towards you since he's always busy, so most of the time he leaves notes for you to find to remind you about taking care of yourself. When his energy finally fails on him, he would lay on your lap for comfort since he just needs some rest. He would also come looking for you if he's also stressed.
He would apologize after saying that he didn't mean to invade on your personal space, but you always deny all of that since you enjoy comforting him.
Venti:
Venti has no shame, he will lay on your lap anytime and anywhere. Sometimes you have to push him off because I bet 100 bucks he'll do it in front of your whole family. He wants everyone to know that you're his and his only so he finds this a reasonable way to prove it. He also just likes the feeling of your thighs since they are so squishy. You're basically his personal pillow if I'm being completely honest.
Dottore:
Dottore thinks affection is a waste of time even if he has a partner, so he won't show you much. That doesn't mean he don't love you though! He just finds it embarrassing.
When one of his experiments failed, you noticed that he seemed annoyed and very stressed since he was so confident that it was going to be a success. Seeing him pacing around the room worried you since you don't like seeing him in this state, so getting his attention you called him over to sit next to you. Annoyed, he thought you were just going to lecture him about being careful since his experiment literally exploded, but instead you just asked for him to lay down. Confused, he was just like: "Lay down where? Tf you talkin about-"
Without hesitating you gently guided his head to your lap and started petting his hair. He was tense at first, but slowly relaxed. He would lecture you about how unprofessional it was of you to be doing this to a harbinger, but you ignored it since you knew he was secretly enjoying it.
Congratulations, now he will fail experiments on purpose just so he can lay on your lap again.👍(Even though he can just ask-)
Lyney:
Lyney thinks that laying on your lap is like a reward, so whenever he achieves something or when one of his performances are a success, he'll just plop his head right on your thighs.
He enjoys laying on your thighs a little too much since he literally won't get up even if you have to go do something important.
"Lyney, I have to g-"
"Nope"
"Bu-"
"Nuh uh"
If someone tries to drag you away while he's enjoying his prize, he would glare at then until they go away. He won't let anyone take his reward away from him.
Xingqiu:
Xingqiu always finds himself laying on your thighs when he's reading a book since he claims it makes him read better and that it's also relaxing. Knowing this is a lie, you let him do it anyway.
Whenever he lays down on your thighs in public, you could tell that his best friend, Chongyun always gets uncomfortable and fidgety, but he'll eventually get used to seeing your affection towards each other.
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 8 months
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Butter
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Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating: None
Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.
Warnings: No outbreak AU, pure fluff, mentions of baking and food, meet cute, some sexual tension but very mild stuff compared to my other fics, single dad!Joel being a sexy menace, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has an accent similar to Joel, very lightly edited, not my best work, but I'm in my writing for fun era 💁🏻‍♀️
Word count: 3.6k
Notes: It's here! This was an exercise in speed writing, and just putting words to paper without overthinking anything. I really enjoyed writing this sweet little piece, this is dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who has been the biggest cheerleader for this idea since day one. Happy birthday to our favourite single dad who never lived through a cordyceps outbreak ❤️
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September 26, 2003 was supposed to be a good day.
It’s Friday, after all. Not that the weekend is relevant to you anymore, with Saturdays and Sundays being the busiest days for business. But you have a date for once tonight, and you’re determined to enjoy it.
If you can get the goddamn security shutter to close, that is.
Standing on your tiptoes, you pull futilely at the bottom of the metal shutter with both hands, but it refuses to budge. You lament the sweat seeping through the fabric of the nice dress you changed into, the hem reaching almost indecent heights on the back of your thighs where it’s climbed up. And you don’t have to look at your reflection to know that stress has already smudged the edges of the eyeliner you hurriedly painted on as soon as you got the last customer out the door.
You can be forgiven for not noticing the wash of yellow headlights over the windows of the shop front and the sound of rolling tyres as a truck pulls up on the curb outside the bakery, until a gravelly voice pipes up behind you alongside hurried footsteps.
‘Ma’am, please tell me you’re still open.’
You tap on the ‘Closed’ sign through the window without turning around, determined to wrangle the shutter into submission. ‘Bad luck buddy, come back tomorrow. We open at nine sharp.’
‘No I can’t, I’m so sorry, but I need a cake now.’
Curiosity turns your head, and over your shoulder, you find a broad-shouldered man in a dark tshirt and casual jeans standing a respectful four paces away. Under eyebrows sloping downwards in a pleading angle that matches the slant of his moustache, his warm and imploring eyes are on you.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but I really need to go,’ you say. ‘Can you give me a hand?’
‘Look, I’ll do you one better. I’ll fix the shutter for you for free - if you sell me a cake.’
You purse your lips, the prospect of saving on what looks like an inevitable repair bill tempting. ‘You can fix it?’
‘I’m a contractor,’ he replies, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a battered looking wallet. ‘Here’s my card, if you think I’m bluffin’.’
Miller & Associates is printed in bold across the top, and underneath, is presumably his name and cell number. Glancing up at him, you say, ‘Look, Mr. Miller, I really want to help, but I’m late for a date, and I’m all sold out of cakes today -’
‘I’ll take anything you got. Cupcakes, cookies, whatever you have left,’ he cuts in, then apologises in quick succession, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry to be so pushy - I’m not, usually - but I promised my daughter I’d bring something home, and by the time I remembered, this is the only place I could think of. Please.’
You feel the exact moment your resolve crack, and then fold like a goddamn lawn chair. What can you say, this contractor really knows how to work those puppy eyes, and you can never say no to a man who refuses to let their kid down. 
Especially when the man looks like this.
Shooting off a text to your date to push back your dinner plans, you nod towards the door. ‘Alright. C’mon in, Mr. Miller.’
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‘Nice place you got here,’ he remarks politely, hovering by the entrance as the fluorescent lights flicker on, his manners impeccably southern. 
‘You don’t have to flatter me, I’ve already let you in,’ you joke, lips quirking at the way he flusters. ‘But I appreciate it. You been here before?’
When he smiles, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. ‘No, but I know I’ll be comin’ back.’
‘I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of ready-made cakes,’ you tell him, holding the door open to the kitchen so he can come in after you. ‘But I have some cake layers in the fridge so I can put together something fairly quickly.’
He ducks his head in a manner that tells you he’s not used to demanding things, and protests, ‘I don’t want to put you out. I meant it, if you just have some cupcakes or somethin’ -’
‘Listen, you promised your daughter a cake, didn’t you?’ you interrupt.
He shrugs. ‘Well, yeah I did -’
‘I’m guessin’ it’s for a birthday?’
He nods sheepishly. ‘It is.’
‘Well, as a baker, ‘mfraid I can’t let a cakeless birthday happen on my watch, Mr. Miller,’ you insist, opening the fridge door with a flourish. ‘Let’s see what we have here. Cake for three, I assume?’
‘Two, actually.’
Hopefully you’re as discreet as you think you are when your eyes drop to his left hand - his fourth finger is conspicuously ringless.
Interesting.
You hum, considering the mismatched options in your inventory. ‘It’s gonna be a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster of a cake, if you don’t mind. How does chocolate and vanilla layers with cookies and cream frosting sound?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ he answers without skipping a beat. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’
You shake your head, hands full of cake rounds wrapped in cling film as you nudge the fridge close. ‘Please, call me Bri, Mr. Miller.’
‘And you can call me Joel,’ he says in return. ‘Is Bri short for somethin’?’
Laying the cakes on the work surface, you reply, ‘Yeah, Bri for brioche, like the bread. It's a silly nickname.’
The single dad surprises you with a low whistle. ‘Can’t say I saw that comin’.’
You grin. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Joel.’
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You don’t often have an audience while baking, and you find yourself talking Joel through the steps while you prep everything for assembly.
Swirling a spatula through the tub of buttercream you made earlier that day, you explain, ‘I just need to whip up some of this frosting so that it’s nice and soft for putting the cake together. You wanna help me break up some Oreos so we can make it cookies and cream?’
‘I’m all yours, chef,’ he says, one corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile that has no business warming the apples of your cheek as it does. ‘Just tell me what to do.’
While your Kitchenaid whirrs to life, whipping air into the buttercream, Joel wields a rolling pin, smashing a generous helping of Oreos into crumbs in a Ziplock bag. The almost exaggerated care with which he moves speaks to inexperience in the kitchen, and you muse that either his kid makes up for it in that department, or they live off takeout.
Eventually, he picks up the bag and looks at you in a question. ‘I think I’m done?’
You smile and tap the lip of the mixing bowl. ‘That’s perfect. Why don’t you tip in the crumbs straight in here?’
Before you can step back to allow him space, Joel’s taken two strides towards you, and his arm brushes your shoulder when he lifts the bag and tilts the contents into the frosting. He’s warm and solid, and damnit, he smells good - like sawdust and sweat.
The thought comes to you unbidden - what a man.
There’s a lull, and only when you feel the weight of eyes on you do you realise that you missed his question.
‘Did you say somethin'?’ you squeak, embarrassed.
‘I said, is this ok?’ he repeats, nodding at the mixing bowl.
You nearly stumble over your words. ‘Yes, yes it’s perfect.’
He watches you closely, a touch of concern in his brown eyes. ‘You ok there, honey?’
‘Yup,’ you chirp, far too cheerfully. ‘Just need to mix it all up now -’
If you had your wits about you, you would stir in the crumbs first and set the machine on low. But this man somehow stole said wits by sheer proximity to you, and you accidentally start the Kitchenaid on high, an indignant yelp escaping you when Oreo dust flies aggressively out of the bowl along with a splatter of white buttercream that lands squarely on the front of your dark knit dress.
‘Oh shit!’ you cry out, frantically turning off the mixer. ‘Shit shit shit!’
Over your panicked mantra, Joel is calmness itself. ‘Hang on, honey, I gotcha.’
He makes a beeline towards the sink, grabbing a tea towel and wets it under the tap with a bit of dishwashing liquid. It all screams competent single dad, and you find yourself staring at his unfairly large hand, mapped with thick veins, holding out the damp towel for you to take.
‘Thanks,’ you stutter self-consciously, the tips of your ears hot while swiping at the stain. ‘That was a rookie mistake. I promise I’m actually a good baker.’
He gives you a wink to put you at ease. ‘Don’t worry, I believe you.’
Starting over, the mixer hums as it gently incorporates the Oreos until the buttercream is a speckled grey and doubled in volume. ‘Looks like it’s ready. You wanna taste, Joel?’
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘D’ya have a spoon or somethin’ for me?’
‘You can use your fingers,’ you reply, and it's too late to take it back.
You feel the back of your neck heating up when he shoots you a meaningful look, just a touch of mischief in the tilt of his lips. 
‘Can I, now?’ he teases.
You try a nonchalant shrug that probably comes off as painfully awkward. ‘This batch is just for you, I won’t tell the health inspector if you don’t.’
Joel chuckles, his strong shoulders quaking. And so you watch, shamelessly, as he raises his right hand, index and middle fingers at the ready, before diving into the metal bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of buttercream. There’s a peek of his pink tongue when his plush lips part, and then he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a gratuitously loud moan, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
When he turns to you with a pained expression on his face, maintaining eye contact all the while licking an errant streak of frosting off the side of his middle finger, you gape at him for a whole five seconds before you manage to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.
‘Good?’ you barely manage to squeak.
‘You betcha, honey,’ he declares, then adds, ‘Mind if I double dip?’
He doesn’t mean anything by it, you know it, but a hot flush runs through your body and you swallow thickly. ‘You can do whatever you want, cowboy.’
You don’t think you’re imagining the wicked glint in his answering stare - you’re getting yourself into trouble, and don’t you know it. 
Clearing your throat, you attempt to thwart your mind's dangerous descent into the gutter by changing the subject. ‘So, I can do somethin’ really snazzy that I think your daughter would like - do you know what a piñata cake is?’
He shakes his head. ‘Sounds dangerous.’
‘Hardly,’ you chuckle. ‘It’s a cake filled with sprinkles, so when you cut into it, it’s a sprinkles surprise!’
He lets out a playful sigh of relief. ‘As long as there’s no whackin’ involved, it’s good by me.’
You gesture at him to follow you across the room. ‘And here’s the fun part - you get to choose the sprinkles.’
Joel whistles at the reveal of your compulsively organised sprinkles cabinet, each shelf sorted by colour, shape and size. He quips, ‘Is this what the inside of your brain looks like, honey?’
You grin. ‘Pretty much. What’s your daughter’s name?’
‘Sarah.’
‘What colour does Sarah like?’
‘Any and all shades of pink.’
‘I can work with that.’
Now that everything is ready and waiting on the work surface, you pull out a lazy Susan and plonk a cake board on top of it, dusting your hands dramatically. ‘Alright, Joel. Ready for the magic to happen?’
Making himself comfortable next to you, he leans on his elbows, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the way his tshirt stretches and strains over his back. ‘Go ahead, I’m ready to be impressed, honey.’
Filling a piping bag full of the cookies and cream buttercream, you ask, ‘You wanna get your hands dirty?’
He raises his palms in surrender. ‘I’ll leave it to you, I don’t want to make you any more late for your date.’
You’re used to working with much bigger cakes, so this one doesn’t take you long. With a cookie cutter, you carve out a small circle from each cake round, then you stack and fill the layers with buttercream. After loading the shaft in the middle with all manner of pink sprinkles, you stopper the top with the cake cut-outs.
‘How old is Sarah turning today?’ you ask conversationally while you spin the cake around, smoothing on the crumb coat.
Joel looks up, surprised. ‘Oh, it’s my birthday today, not hers. ‘
‘Wait, what?’ you cry, throwing your hands up. ‘I made this cake with Sarah in mind - it will literally be vomiting pink sprinkles!’
‘I’m a girl dad. I like pink,’ shrugs Joel easily.
You huff, using an icing smoother to make sure the buttercream is even all over the cake. ‘I would pop the cake into the freezer to firm up before adding a final layer of frosting if I had the time, but this will have to do.’
‘It looks great,’ Joel assures you as you put the finishing touches to the cake, with buttercream swirls all around the top and a final baptism of sprinkles.
‘There, all done. Lemme box it up for you and this bad boy is ready to go.’
‘Amazin’, thank you so much,’ he grins. ‘Please, lemme do the washin’ up while you’re at it.’
‘Oh, Joel, you can’t,’ you protest, but he’s already grabbed the mixing bowl and all the bits and bobs stained with buttercream. ‘You’re the birthday boy!’
‘Least I can do,’ he shoots back over his shoulder, already halfway to the sink.
‘Well no, you promised to fix the security shutter for me, remember?’ you call after him.
‘Damn, I was hopin’ you’d forgotten about that.’
Joel cleans up with a practised air, humming under his breath as he waits for the water to heat up and the soap to lather. You watch him from the corner of your eye while you secure the cake inside the box, throwing in a birthday candle for good measure. You’ve just tied a nice ribbon around the cardboard box when he puts away everything in the drying rack and wipes his hands dry.
‘Didn’t expect you to be good at that,’ you tease, moving towards the door.
‘Sexist much?’ he jokes, no real bite in his retort. Then by way of explanation, he tells you, ‘I work late, so Sarah usually cooks and I wash up afterwards.’
‘Sounds like you guys make a good team.’
Joel helps with the lights and locks the door, and you stand to one side when he grabs the security shutter and forces it into submission by brute force. You can’t help but stare when the bottom of his tshirt rides up, revealing a soft sliver of belly underneath, his biceps bulging and back rippling as the shutter is finally forced shut in a metallic ripple.
You give him a smile. ‘Well, happy birthday, Joel.’
‘Thanks again for the cake.’ He looks around, as if looking for your car, but the sidewalk is empty except for his truck. ‘How are you gettin’ to your date?’
‘I was just gonna call a taxi.’
‘No, you ain’t,’ he nods towards his ride. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’
‘Oh, no, it’s late, and you should be getting back to Sarah -’
‘I spoiled your date, so please, let me,’ he insists, holding the door open on the passenger side. Hop in.’
Joel takes the cake off your hands and puts it in the backseat carefully, putting the seat belt over it while you climb in. Glancing over your shoulder, you see toolboxes and newspapers on the floor, and it smells like paint and wood dust.
‘Sorry it’s a bit messy, occupational hazard,’ he apologises as he straps himself in. ‘So, where are we goin’?’
‘Do you know the steakhouse on Third Street?’
‘Vaguely,’ he replies, pulling smoothly away from the curb. ‘It sounds fancy.’
‘You been?’
‘Nope, I barely have time to go anywhere nowadays. It seems like I’m only ever in bed, or at work, or in my truck.’
You turn to smile at him, admiring the way his his thick fingers around the top of the steering wheel, making it look so small. ‘I feel you. Small business owner, am I right?’
‘I hear ya,’ he shoots you a smile. ‘So - what’s the deal with tonight? First date?’
‘Fourth, actually.’
He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Fourth date? You know what happens on a fourth date, honey.’
‘I don’t, actually. Tell me, what happens on a fourth date?’
He blows out his cheeks, and admits, ‘Honestly, I can’t tell ya. I haven’t been on a fourth date since 1991.’
You burst into laughter at his unexpected answer. ‘You’re such a dork, Joel Miller.’
When the truck rumbles to a stop outside the steakhouse ten minutes later, he looks at his watch and announces, ‘Here we are, only fifteen minutes late.’ Squinting through the windshield, he points at a man smoking outside, an impatient frown on his face. ‘That him?’
‘Yeah, that’s him,’ you nod, but you stay put in your seat, in no hurry to make a move.
Joel nods, tapping his tidily trimmed nails on the steering wheel. ‘So I’ll swing ‘round tomorrow after work with my toolbelt? ‘Round six thirty?’
‘A toolbelt? What a sight to look forward to,’ you rib, slowly reaching for the seatbelt and unbuckling it.
‘Hell yeah, it’s got a special clip for my Nokia and all,’ he adds mischievously.
'You must fend off the ladies by the dozen,' you tease.
'Daily,' he answers without skipping a beat.
You probably shouldn’t have, especially not with the guy who you’re supposed to be on a date with glaring daggers at you through the windshield. But there’s something cackling in the air between you and this man you just met not an hour ago, and the way the streetlight filters through the window, backlighting his messy curls and scraggly beard, that has you throwing caution to the proverbial wind.
Impulsively, you lean across the gear shift, your left hand finding purchase on his knee before pressing your lips to the side of his whiskered jaw, your kiss fitting right into that little heart-shaped patch on his beard. 
You’re not sure who’s more taken aback, but you don’t have time to find out. 
‘Happy birthday, Joel Miller.’
He smiles after you as you hop out of his truck.
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You’ve just sold your last cupcake of the day when the bell over the bakery door rings. And sure enough, it’s Joel Miller crossing the threshold, right on the dot at six thirty.
‘Hey, Bri,’ he waves, hovering half-in and half-out of the shop, a slight awkwardness having set in overnight.
But it's ok, you're happy to pick up where you left off. Putting your hands on your waist and a cheeky grin, you quip, ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding about that toolbelt, huh?’
Your chest swells as you watch him thaw with an easy smile, and he banters back, ‘I’m a man of my word, honey. You ok with me gettin’ to work now?’
‘Yes, thank you. I’ll be cleanin’ up back in the kitchen, I’ll join you when I’m done.’
Joel shoots you a thumbs up. ‘Great. I’ll grab the ladder and get right to it.’
When you emerge fifteen minutes later, he’s on the fourth rung of the ladder, tinkering the rolling mechanism with a screwdriver and a studious frown on his brow. He looks like he’s wearing the same thing as yesterday - you can believe that he’s a man who buys the same tshirt in bulk - and he smiles at you when you duck out of the shop.
‘Did Sarah like the cake?’ you ask in casual conversation.
‘She went nuts over the piñata surprise,’ he replies. ‘And the cake was delicious, there were hardly any crumbs left when we were done with it. She says we’re definitely ordering a cake from you for her birthday.’
‘I like the sound of that.’
‘How was your evening?’ he asks, glancing down at you from his perch. ‘Did you find out what happens on a fourth date?’
You let out a dry laugh. ‘Yeah, I did, actually. He dumped me.’
Joel freezes, a scowl darkening his countenance. ‘Oh shit, what? Why?’
You shrug, leaning your weight on the ladder as you look at the ground. ‘I mean, I did show up an hour late in some other guy’s truck. And I guess probably shouldn’t have kissed you on the cheek right in front of him.’
You startle when Joel’s fingers slip under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. ‘It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.’
‘Honestly, you don’t look that sorry, Joel Miller,’ you joke.
He cocks his head to one side. ‘Well, I can't lie, I think you deserve better than him.’
‘Do you now?’ you prompt. ‘Who do you have in mind?’
Joel peers at you from under long lashes with a half-smile that's almost shy. He dodges your question, and says instead, ‘I didn't mean to ruin your night, let me make it up to you, honey.’
‘How?’
Deftly, he climbs down the ladder, landing squarely on two booted feet, his presence comforting as he looms over you, his eyes warm. ‘Can I buy you dinner?’
‘Like - a date kind of dinner?’
‘Yeah, like a date,’ he nods.
You can’t help the dig. ‘And you were just sayin' you haven’t been on a date since...?’
He flashes you a smirk, and you shiver when his hand brushes your waist. ‘Since 1991. Tough sell, I know - but I thought I’d give it a shot.’
Running a finger along his sharp jawline, softened by the endearingly untidy beard, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving away too wide a grin. ‘Why, I think I have a good feelin’ about you, Joel Miller.’
Catching your wrist in his fingers, he presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles, the rough graze of his stubble chasing goosebumps across your skin as his eyes smile at you. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, honey.’
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More notes: I hope you enjoyed this sweet little oneshot 🥰 I really leaned into the fluff and I have no regrets. Comments/reblogs/asks are much appreciated as always! I don't have plans for a second part right now, but a smutty follow-up is always a possibility...
The adorable dividers are by @firefly-graphics 👩🏻‍🍳
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hongthoven · 3 months
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one-shot 𖹭 3k w
pairing 𖹭 kim hongjoong (ateez) x fem reader
tags 𖹭 fluff, smut, established relationship, idol!hongjoong, family trip, you know he'll be having you in that hot tub at some point
✏️ okay so this wasn't planned but Bumjoong's vlog got me spiraling into some ⊹ ࣪ ˖ thoughts ⊹ ࣪ ˖ and I couldn't stop thinking about joining Hongjoong on that family trip -- and may I add, that hotspring? You know I had to.
pls reblog & comment if you like it 𖹭
© hongthoven
When Hongjoong had asked you to join him and his family on a trip to Sapporo, your first instinct was to panic— This would be your first time meeting his parents and only your second encounter with Bumjoong ever since your boyfriend’s last tour. Back then, even the idea of having lunch with Hongjoong and his older brother was already nerve-wrecking enough. Lucky for you, Bumjoong was the most welcoming human and had worked extra hard to make you feel comfortable by sharing some precious childhood memories including his younger brother pulling a tantrum over an ice-cream and how he would always crash his football games with his friends when he wasn’t much bigger than the ball itself. 
Now this was different. Meeting his parents, spending days with his whole circle and living under the same roof seemed like a commitment your anxiety couldn’t seem to handle peacefully. Of course you were more than happy and flattered he would even consider bringing you along with him— any signs of this man committing to you more than enough to have you kicking your feet and screaming into a void. Hongjoong was a busy man and dating Ateez’s captain wasn’t always easy when it came to matching your schedules so you could spend quality time together. When he wasn’t spending the night at his studio, your man was either busy promoting his music, writing for other artists, working on his next photography exhibition or flying to Paris’ Fashion Week. 
Still— every single one of his accomplishments felt like yours and Hongjoong always made sure to include you in every single step towards another successful experience. So when your lovely boyfriend had kindly suggested for you to take a couple days off from work so you could fly to Japan with his family, there wasn’t much left for you but to agree as Hongjoong did his best to reassure you when you immediately told him about your worries: his parents not liking you, embarrassing yourself, crashing their family time when you weren't even part of it— to which Hongjoong was quick to reply with the most unexpected piece of informations, sending you spiraling into thoughts of a future you were too afraid to dream about.
“Y/N— you’re part of my family already…” That was the validation you needed from him. The thought of him talking about you with his parents, letting them know about meaningful details of your relationship, made your heart grow twice its size. And while you were still nervous to meet them, you knew nothing could possibly go wrong when Hongjoong was by your side. 
By the end of your first day, you already felt like part of the family. After hours spent walking in the snow, taking pictures, gazing at the gorgeous landscape and tasting some local delicacies, you were practically tight by the hip with Hongjoong’s mother as you walked back to the beautiful accommodation your boyfriend had rented for the entire family. 
“My mom is kind of obsessed with you” Hongjoong growled as you finally caught some time to yourselves, spread out over the bed with your boyfriend resting on top of you, the coldness of his palms sending shivers all over your stomach as he slipped his hands under your sweater with a content sigh. “I’m a bit jealous actually— she’s keeping you all to herself” he almost whined, his lips reaching for your neck, forcing a soft giggle out of your lips “can’t even hold my girl’s hand or anything— such a thief” he added, biting your skin while the tip of his tongue collected your scent, reaching for your earlobe.
“Joongie— your family’s right next door” you huffed, trying to wiggle out of his embrace as he looked up to lock his beautiful yet sleepy eyes with yours. It had been a long day, following a long week of a packed schedule and you could definitely tell he was a minute from passing out from intense fatigue— but he still looked breathtaking with his blonde streaks covering half of his face and his pink lips, tempting as candy, desperately reaching for yours, only to melt into the softest kiss as he eventually complied. Closing his eyes for a minute, Hongjoong made himself comfortable with his face buried into your neck and his hands still resting under your sweater, framing you with his entire body. 
It wasn’t long until you heard his breathing slowing down, its delicate sound mixing with some slight snoring from being completely burned out. Happy to see him resting at last, your hands found their way into his hair and at the back of his neck, kneading his skin tenderly as you watched the beautiful winter scenery getting darker by the end of the afternoon. 
A knock on the door made you flinch into your slumber and your first instinct was to look down and make sure Hongjoong was still fast asleep— when he failed to react, your eyes found Bumjoong standing in the doorway, trying to make himself as discreet as possible, his palm covering his eyes.
“Are you guys decent?” he asked with a nervous chuckle as you immediately cleared the scene with a soft tone, the sight of his passed out brother making the older one smile endearingly. 
“I think we’ll pass on dinner, can you excuse us to your parents? I think he needs this…” You whispered with one hand still locked into your boyfriend’s hair, scratching his scalp softly. Without a word, Bumjoong gave you an understanding nod as an answer and closed the door behind him, leaving you with nothing but the peaceful quietness of the bedroom as company. 
After a while, you figured Hongjoong was gone for the night and decided not to rot in bed any longer— your body was getting pins and needles from staying in the same position for hours, keeping your boyfriend locked into your embrace as he snored peacefully against your chest. Though you were slightly reluctant to let go of him, the warmth of his skin as a reminder of how long it had been since you two were in the same bed, you eventually managed to roll Hongjoong over to his side, stealing a muffled complaint out of him as he called out your name in his sleep, to which you replied with a tender kiss at the crook of his neck before rolling out of bed and escaping the bedroom as quietly as possible. 
The hotspring was practically calling your name as you walked into the private patio on the second floor, ready to dive into your book and enjoy some snacks while bathing in hot water— now this looked like a holiday. Everything around was quiet, peaceful if not for a couple of birds still chirping into the night. You were thankful for Hongjoong asking you to take a bathing suit although you were left a little puzzled at his odd request for a snowy weekend away— but you also couldn’t miss the little evil smirk on your boyfriend’s face when giving you a house tour, his hand palming the small of your back as he made sure to let you know just how much he expected to have you there, in this bath, as soon as his family would be gone. He would find an excuse, book a table at some fancy restaurant, pretend to have some work emergency and keep you around for support, only to bend you over the tiles and make you scream his name over and over again.
Unable to focus on your book as you kept reading the same page until it made some sort of sense, you tried to remember the last time you and Hongjoong were able to share that type of intimacy, your thighs instantly clenching at the sudden memory of his last concert in Saitama. You typically tried not to ever miss a concert whenever you could travel along but this tour you wouldn’t miss for anything— for months, you had seen Hongjoong practice his guitar skills, lessons after lessons, massaging his calloused fingers every time he took it too far — almost every day, so when it was time to witness your boyfriend in all his glory as he stood on stage ready to wreck an entire Dome, you were actually thankful to be seating alone, your entire body radiating with lust and  the absolute urge to kneel in front of him to swallow his junk entirely. 
Which you did, precisely 2 hours later, as soon as you were left alone with him backstage. Hongjoong had practically kicked the other members out without any effort to hide his intentions. You could actually hear Wooyoung snickering behind the door and making some crude comment to Mingi about how their captain was about to ‘get some’, which you both decided to ignore. Without any sort of ceremony, Hongjoong was quick to spit into your open mouth and guide himself between your lips, both his hands pushing at the back of your head until you could feel the familiar taste of precum spilling off his slit and into the back of your throat. You could never get enough of the way he seemed to melt against your tongue as you traced every single vein along his cock with just the tip like he was your favorite flavor. 
When it came to being vocal, Hongjoong knew how to drive you past the edge of insanity with little whimpers and the nastiest words wrapped into the delicacy of his voice, like the melted chocolate heart of your favorite cake. You would never get rid of the way he often crossed the line, way past his usual cute pet names, only to call you his ‘little slut’ as he rutted himself into your mouth, stealing air out of your lungs as his hands started to tremble into your untamed hair. 
The water was getting too hot, suddenly— the simple thought of Hongjoong slowly pushing your lips open with his tip making you foam at the mouth. Without realizing, your thighs had started to press against one another, rolling up and down slightly, just to give you enough friction for a quick relief. You could tell your entire body was now getting worked up over your fantasies, your back arching naturally as you eventually pushed your book to the side, suddenly uninterested in any sort of Literature. Wrapped into a cloud of steam, your body was craving a touch— yours, but mostly Hongjoong’s, and as you slowly slid your hand along your chest, brushing your erected nipple on your way down, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous at the thought of being caught. What would your in-laws think? What would Hongjoong say if he heard about his parents walking on his girlfriend touching herself in the hot tub? 
All these thoughts were quickly gone as soon as your hand found its nest between your thighs, three of your fingers pressed against your core as a soft moan escaped your lips, echoing into the empty patio. Or so you thought. 
“Baby?” Though you immediately recognized Hongjoong’s voice, you were quick to stiffen back into the corner of the tub, red at the cheeks as you turned around to face your boyfriend’s mixed expression. He was definitely confused— but also quite obviously aroused. Not to mention half naked now that his sweater was gone, leaving him in a pair of sweatpants, his hair now a chaotic blond mess from sleeping for too long and his bare chest already coated with steam from the temperature of the room. He looked like an absolute snack you couldn’t wait to devour. 
“You should have woken me up if you needed it so bad?” Hongjoong smirked, peeling himself off his sweatpants only to leave you gasping at the sight of his exposed, already semi-erected cock for a second before he dived into the bath. 
“You looked like you needed some good sleep” you half-pouted as soon as he pulled you against him, forcing you to sit on his lap with one leg on each side of his frame. 
“I need you more” without any sort of warning, Hongjoong reached for your throat, wrapping all five of his fingers around it as his lips found yours, tongue teasing until you caved and deepened the kiss, soft moans dying into his mouth as you started to grind over his lap while his stiffening member threatened to push your bikini bottom to the side with each thrust from your aching hips. 
“Fuck— I’ve missed you so much baby— fucking insane—” his words were coming out a little sharpier, halfway between a confession and a command while his lips traveled down to your neck, sucking a soft, pink bite out of your skin with one hand already pulling at your bikini top. You couldn’t help but feel extremely exposed as one of your tit disappeared into Hongjoong’s palm, the other already settled between his lips as he sucked desperately at your flesh like a starving newborn.
“You gonna let me fuck you here?” he asked, his tone the opposite of innocent as you clenched over nothing, pushing your core against his groin until you couldn’t take it anymore. Nothing else mattered now. The glass windows surrounded you, making you both vulnerable and exposed— the idea of his family coming home any minute, only to find you there with their youngest son balls deep into your cunt. All you could think about was to be filled and to reach climax as soon as possible. It had been weeks since you had last felt Hongjoong’s body so close to yours and a treat was overdue. 
“Please” you almost weeped, using your fingers as a hook to push your bikini to the side until you felt his tip pushing against your entrance, thicker than ever. 
“Oh you’re gonna beg, love?” you couldn’t say a thing— not a word— as you nodded almost hysterically, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth like a misbehaving child ready to be grounded. Though his words were tempting and his gaze wrapped into that cocky frown you knew too well, Hongjoong’s hands were nothing but tender over your skin, his love pouring out of him in the shape of his palms stroking your arms, shoulders and the back of your neck like you were nothing but glass, about to shatter against his chest. 
“You’re so fucking pretty— can’t believe you’re mine” his words took you by surprise, his thumb brushing your bottom lip while you felt him aligning himself perfectly against your aching core. His eyes were locked on the way your mouth instantly wrapped around his digit, sucking at the tip like the ghost of that part of him you were now craving. 
“Go ahead and beg” he added, more demanding this time, your body going limp against him as you struggled to even breathe from the absolute urge to be consumed entirely by the love of your life. 
“Hongjoong— please?” you finally begged, lips turned into a pout while your hand reached for his cock, ready to wrap around it. You had never felt emptier. 
“What do you think you’re doing, love?” Hongjoong smirked, his own hand wrapping around yours but never truly stopping you.
“Need you” you were a blurbing mess by now, lids heavy and hips almost jolting against him as you felt him stretching you out a little with his tip only, both your hands still tightly wrapped around his shaft. You could feel every inch of him— into your palm, pushing against your walls, everywhere, always amazed at the way his cock seemed to be exclusively crafted for your cunt. 
Once he was settled, balls deep into you, Hongjoong reached for the small of your back, pulling you closer to his chest as you instinctively rolled your hips against him, collecting the sweetest sound out of his throat as your boyfriend tilted his head back, hitting the tile with his wet hair while thrusting painfully slow into you. The room was filled with soft, muffled moans and the sound of water splashing over the rim, soaking the floor with each, deeper thrust. Everything felt and sounded like absolute bliss— the roughness of his chest against your palms, the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass cheeks everytime he pulled you harder, bottoming out only to rocket his hips back into you— nothing could beat this feeling, this fullness, the sincere love you could see in his eyes as his lips turned into an ‘o’ every time your eyes met. 
Reaching for your neck, Hongjoong pulled you closer to melt his lips into yours, his kiss more eager this time as his tongue battled with yours while his hand kept you still with a soft grip around your throat. Lost into his embrace, it took you a minute to realize he was now completely still inside of you. 
“Could stay like this forever” he smiled, his palm cupping water on the surface only to pour it over your chest, his eyes following every drop as it raced over your breast like the most beautiful piece of Art. While still tightly clenched between your folds, the way he gazed at you, his fingers tracing some invisible forms over your chest, was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced with anyone. Something in his eyes made you feel safe and vulnerable at the same time, like you were precisely where you belonged. 
It only took a few more thrusts for you to bite a moan into his shoulder, your entire body stiffening with bliss as Hongjoong chased you to the top, his entire face buried into your chest as he lifted himself just enough to rocket back into you harder until his cries echoed into the quietness of the night while your walls locked around his load, turning him into absolute shambles as Hongjoong started to shake slightly into your arms from a hint of overstimulation. 
Red at the cheeks, blonde streaks pushed back, Hongjoong tried to compose himself, his breathing gone to absolute chaos as he kept his arms locked around your figure, unwilling to let go just yet. 
“Think I’m gonna marry you” he blurted out, his forehead pressed to yours— leaving you once again, completely speechless. 
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Text
The future awaits
bringing up the future while you're together
characters: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim
Format: Headcanons
warnings: None that i can think off
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Riddle
-You'd probably bring it up while drinking tea together
-He'd go quiet for a moment, deep in thought
-He is so caught up in making sure everybody follows the rules and studying, that he never really had the time to think about it
-He'd be very serious about it 
-He wants to marry you in the future, that's for sure 
-Probably wants a kid or two
-Honestly wants a very typical future, a house, a stable job, ect.
-I'm not really sure what Job he would want/have. Maybe he'd take after his mother and become a doctor, or maybe something to do with politics. I could also see him as a judge, due to his ability to memorise rules, or in this case laws, and his tendency to punish rulebreakers accordingly
-i feel like he wouldn't have preference about wether you work or not
-ALSO, If you are the one to bring up kids and marriage, especially if you start describing it in detail (Like your dream wedding, or what your kids could look like) he'd grow very flustered, very quickly
-Poor guy still isn't used to affection, even if you two have been in a relationship for quite a while already 
-all in all, he'd take the question very seriously. He wants a typical, almost stereotypical, future
Leona
-You'd probably bring it up while he uses you as a pillow cuddling
-He'd scoff 
-"Why are you worrying about that now??" or something along those lines.
- He most likely brushes you off in favor of sleeping
-or at least, that's what he'd tell you
-the question might actually keep him up a bit longer, he's seriously thinking about it
-In his dreams, of course, he'd be king and you'd be his consort, as you rule over the land together, admired by all. But that will sadly remain just a dream, and he knows it
-Instead he opts for wanting a quiet live, where the two of you can just laze around all day, everyday 
-He probably doesn't want to live too close to his brother and sister-in-law, either on the opposite side of the palace, or in some sort of estate a bit further away (idk how moving out as royalty works tbh)
-I don't think he would want kids, too much work
-all in all, a quiet life where the two of you won't be bothered
Azul
-Immediately flustered, no matter how long you have already been dating
-I don't think he'll ever get used to affection
-another one that gets really serious, but this one is really flustered while he talks 
-He'll definetly will want to continue the mostro lounge buisness, just outside of school. Maybe one day take over his mothers buisness too, so she can retire.
-He won't even realise it, but he might just start talking about your wedding, about wether you'll get married on land or in the sea, ect..
-tease him about it, and he'll put Riddle's hair to shame
-tbh he wouldn't want much to change from now, he wants to be with you, keep running a successful business, and stay close with the twins
Kalim
-Immediately gets excited 
-If you're on the magic carpet, you'd have to hold onto him so neither of you fall off-
-Immediately starts rambling about all the things he wants to do with you in the future 
-He wants a VERY big wedding, like the type that continues over multiple days, he just  really wants to spoil you and show the whole world how much he loves you
-He most likely wants a big family, the man has like 40 siblings, he wouldn't be used to anything else
-He's already planning hundreds of party's you two will could hold in the future!!
-He probably won't shut up for a good few hours. Good luck
-You'd have a very annoyed Jamil the next day, because after you brought it up, he would not shut up about wedding plans and stuff. Jamil had to force him to sleep.
-He'd be even clingier than normally after this 
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First time writing and posting headcanons, kinda nervous-
Feedback is welcomed, just be nice please!! hope you enjoyed and have a nice day :)
481 notes · View notes
rosequarzo · 2 months
Text
the morning after.
૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! aventurine + reader reader is gender-neutral established relationship spoiler-free tooth-rotting fluff domestic fluff ☆ warning not proofread . . . !? & tba — catalogue
note. i know there are a lot of drabbles out there based on the official art but i wanted to write something for him so yeah... tagging @neuvistar
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What was supposed to be a peaceful and undisturbed sleep resulted in Aventurine rudely woken up by the familiar sound of his phone ringing. Normally, he wouldn’t mind since it means he has business to tend to; allowing him to get his mind off some… negative thoughts. But today was different.
Today was his rare off day and he wishes nothing more than to spend the day with his beloved partner: you. Groaning, he blindly reached for his phone, only to be successful after grabbing the air a couple of times. 
He yawns before accepting the call, holding the device near his left ear. “Hello?” 
Aventurine internally winced at how hoarse his voice sounds, due to the lack of water for the past few hours. The speaker started speaking but none of their words entered his mind. The gambler wasn’t in the mood to entertain them and it was by pure instinct with how his eyes moved over to where you were laying. The sight of you fast asleep soundly, without a care in the world and with a serene expression on your face was enough to put him at ease. 
Never in his life had he foreseen himself falling in love with someone. Aventurine is a risky man, always going all in or nothing but when it comes to you, he is willing to take some safety precautions. He doesn’t know how to function without you by his side. The man reached out his left hand, fingers grazing the outline of your face and rested his palm on your cheek. He sniggered when you furrowed your eyebrows, murmuring something under your breath. 
Aventurine couldn’t resist the urge to move a few stray strands of your hair away from your face, gingerly tucking them behind your ear. The way he treats you was as if you were a piece of fragile glass that could shatter into pieces at any given moment. He vows to always protect you and he will keep to his words, even if it means putting his life on the line. For you, he was nothing more than a fool in love. 
“..llo? Sir, are you still there?” 
The voice on the other end snapped him back to reality. Aventurine sighed before replying, having only understood half of whatever they said. “Fine, let’s schedule the interview for today then.”
They exchanged a few more words before he finally hung up. According to what his brain remembered, the interview is scheduled to begin in the afternoon. That means he has more time to spend with you, much to his delight. Aventurine closed the remaining distance between the two of you, pulling you closer and buried his face in the crook of your neck. 
“...How long are you planning to do this, darling?” He murmured, his breath kissing your neck with every word he spoke. 
“Ugh, how did you know I was already awake?” You grumbled, annoyed at how you were caught red-handed. 
“Let’s just say I have my ways. Now, we should get more rest since it’s still early,” he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss on your neck and savouring the way you shivered slightly at his action. 
“Huh, but don’t you have an inter-”
“That can wait. For now, I want to spend my time with you.” 
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mm-lurking · 4 months
Text
From the distance - Blade
Since he never made an effort when you tried to befriend him, you gave up and stuck to your own business. Yet somehow, he’s there when you find yourself in trouble.
A/N: Another fic where I just want Blade to be my knight in shining armour. Once again written when I was sleep deprived for several nights straight. The best ideas do come when you are out of your mind fr. No idea where I was going with this tbh, I just kept writing. Sorry if it's ooc and kinda dragged out! I tried to write him as well as possible. Warnings: Blade x fem!reader, some violence, blood and tension between you and Blade. NPC with a CN name, I'm not sure if I used the Chinese name the right way? Apologies in advance if its wrong! WC: 4754 --- Another night at the Xianzhou Luofu. Another meeting with the Stellaron Hunters. In contrast to the calm night outside, Blade impatiently taps his feet as he glares at the door. You’re supposed to be here in the room ready to begin the meeting. Kafka is supposed to be here too but that’s not the point. The point is you and where you are. Some time passes by and the door slowly creaks open. He snaps his head around hoping it's you- only to see Kafka. The tiny glint of anticipation fades away quickly and his usual stone face replaces it, but it is not quick enough to slip by Kafka.
“She’s not going to be here Bladie.”
Kafka chuckles as she walks in and takes a seat at the table. He glares at her.
“I did not ask.”
“You didn’t ask about her indeed, but your face betrays you.”
He scoffs and looks away in the distance. The woman observes him for a moment and smiles.
“She had another meeting to attend urgently. Took me by surprise honestly. She came running here two hours ago hastily explaining herself and apologising before running off again. How amusing.”
Her eyes do not leave Blade’s face as she talks. In her lifetime of working with him, never had she seen him so…agitated over a mere mortal. A mortal he claimed he didn’t care for or wanted to associate with. Another chuckle leaves her lips and she waves her hand dismissively.
“Well since it’s just the two of us we can postpone the meeting.”
She gets up from the chair and turns around to walk away only for Blade to stop her.
“Kafka.”
“Yes?”
“Who is she meeting?”
She places a hand on her waist and smirks. He says nothing more and continues staring at her face waiting for an answer.
“I thought you said you didn’t care?”
“Kafka.”
His tone suggests he is in no mood for jokes. She sighs and shakes her head.
“She’s meeting Mr Li Qi.”
“..?!”
Kafka observes his startled expression and pretends to be clueless as she taps her finger on her lips. She knew what she was doing of course.
“What’s the matter, Blade? You look like you’re in deep thought.”
“You knew she was going to Li Qi and let her go on her own?”
Kafka shrugs.
“Why not?”
His jaw clenches and unclenches as he looks straight into her eyes.
“You know how dangerous that man is.”
“Oh come on Bladie. She’s more than capable of handling him. After all, she was the one who approached him first.”
His eyes grow wide momentarily before returning to normal. Several thoughts are running in his head but the main theme is along the lines of how stupid and foolish you are. Li Qi, a businessman on the Luofu was notorious for his shady practices and downright unethical behaviour. To the common folk, he was a simple successful businessman but to those who had intel on him or many connections across the Luofu, they knew of his true identity and what dangers lurked in associating with him. He was cunning enough to protect himself and the business from the eyes of the law while simultaneously maintaining his illegal proceedings.
“You didn’t attempt to stop her even once?”
Blade’s voice is laced with concern and disbelief as he replies.
“Why should I? Who are we to interfere in her plans? We are not saviours.”
In contrast to her unconcerned-sounding words, her face is the complete opposite. She displays a small smile, intently watching Blade to see what he would do.
“…”
Silence fills the air. There is a faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the entrance door.
“You should have told me earlier.”
He says calmly as he suddenly stands up and walks towards the door, taking long strides as if he urgently had to leave.
“Whether you decide to protect her or not…it is all part of Elio’s script.”
The way she speaks is as if she was merely watching the pawn move in a game of chess, already aware of every move that was going to occur. He freezes on the spot as he realises.
“You already knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”
He turns around to look at her and she shrugs, completely avoiding the question before continuing.
“There is a warehouse at Stargazer Navalia where Mr Li Qi frequents. If I am correct, she must be there right now.”
There is nothing more said between the two as Blade nods and opens the door before he walks away in a fast-paced manner. When the door shuts close Kafka stares at the door for a moment before laughing.
“So much for not caring huh? Oh, Bladie..”
You could tell something was off since you stepped foot into the warehouse. There were several red flags actually. One, Mr Li Qi asked to meet you in this warehouse instead of a commonplace like the restaurants in Aurum Alley. Two, you weren’t here to look at the items of interest yet so you shouldn’t be in a warehouse in the first place. Three, the silence of the meeting point and how it was conveniently hidden away in a deserted side of the Stargazer Navalia.
You weren’t a fool though. You had purposely walked into this trap well aware that there was something oddly peculiar about this man. Something about the way Mr Li Qi looked and the suspicious tone of his messages told you he was a man worth investigating. You weren’t from the IPC nor were you a Stellaron Hunter, but you sure had made a name for yourself amongst the natives in terms of commissions and business.
Perhaps that is why Mr Li Qi was so delighted to meet you when you first sent a request to meet him. Perhaps that is also why there was a gun pressed against the side of your forehead. The cold barrel, in contrast to your sweaty skin, sent shivers down your spine.
“Tell me miss, surely you didn’t take me as a fool?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
You reply calmly but groan when the gun is pressed harder into your skull. Mr Li Qi is standing behind you with a harsh grip on the back of your neck as he uses his right hand to firmly point the gun at you. You scan your environment to make sense of the danger you’re in. The long eerily hall of the warehouse has almost no inventory; a few boxes of odd things lie around and there are some cardboard boxes stacked over in the corner. They are probably meant as a cover or to fake the appearance of a warehouse. There aren’t many men of his around either, just two bodyguards that currently stand in front of you to prevent your escape and a few other men in the far distance at the door standing like statues.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about? Is that so?”
He mocks your words and grits his teeth. You feel another chill run down your spine.
“Do you take me as a fool miss? I am fully aware of who you are and what you do.”
“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about. I collect antiques for fun and that’s why I approached you.”
Lies. You were praying he wouldn’t realise you were lying through your teeth. You weren’t here for antics, you were here to investigate a fraud he had committed. One of your family friends had been caught in his traps and this sly fox was able to avoid all legal charges by hiding documents and falsifying testimonies. Having no hope left, the family friend had turned to you for help and considering your ties with them you agreed.
“How peculiar of you to approach me instead of the many, many antique collectors out there. Your interest in the jade pendants of the Xianzhou is very uncalled for considering your job status.”
You gulp. Shoot. No pun intended.
“Who are you to judge my interests Mr.? Especially if it brings you money?”
You retort and immediately regret it when the gun goes off with a loud bang.
-
His breathing is heavier than usual as he finally reaches Stargazer Navalia. The veins on his neck have not stopped popping from how tightly he has been clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. A flurry of insults goes through his head as he thinks of you while he simultaneously searches for the warehouse. There is no time to rest as he dashes through the tall steel container boxes and small bridges frantically searching for you.
“…?!”
In the distance, he hears the sound of a gun going off and freezes momentarily before whipping his head around to see a large warehouse a couple of meters away. The description of the warehouse fits what Kafka had told him and he dashes towards it. Was that…? No, it can’t be, he shakes off the negative thoughts as he aggressively pushes against the large wooden doors with his body. The lock from the inside breaks into two from the strength he exerts and the doors swing open, revealing several men ready to fight and four figures in the dim light further away.
“Who goes there?!”
Li Qi shouts from the other end, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty warehouse. There are hints of anxiety and anger in his words but Blade says nothing. Instead, he pulls out his weapon and slashes his way through the men guarding the door, injuring them swiftly and easily as they drop on the floor like dead flies. One of them tries to grab onto his leg and he stomps on the guard’s chest, making the guard scream in pain. He sneers.
He takes longer and faster strides as he approaches where you are and your figure becomes clearer with each step he takes. A small sigh of relief leaves his lips as he realises that you’re still alive. The look on his face is deadly with his eyes ablaze and he glares at the two bodyguards blocking him from your view.
-
Eventhough you are not one to be afraid of danger, the gun going off right next to your head has you shaken up. The vibrations of the gun ripple through your skull and you can feel a headache setting in. Lucky for you, the gun lacks bullets as you’re clearly still alive after he pulled the trigger. Li Qi mumbles a bunch of insults under his breath as he attempts to refill the bullets only to stop as the warehouse doors open with a loud thud. Both you and your captor flinch at the unexpected event, confused at the commotion by the door.
You hear Li Qi yell but you don’t register what he says. Your eyes are on the figure that violently makes its way through the appointed guards of the warehouse, like a tornado destroying everything in its path as it gets closer to you. It is when the figure stands in your line of sight do you recognise -it is Blade.
“Bla-“
He looks at you immediately when you call out to him in a raspy voice. Unfortunately, Li Qi prevents you from finishing his name as he cocks the gun and roughly handles you making you wince. Blade’s grip on his weapon tightens trying to control the urge to cut off the man’s head on the spot. In contrast to your situation, Blade notes that you look calm for someone who is in the hands of death.
“Shut up or I will put a bullet through your head”, Mr Li Qi seethes. “You are lucky I forgot to replace my bullets- wha-?!”
A loud slash resounds in the air as Blade can no longer stand the nuisance and brandishes his weapon in front of the bodyguards causing Li Qi to quiver. He gives the men no chance to prepare for how rapidly he makes use of his sword, cementing his prowess as a swordsman once again in front of you. You close your eyes not wanting to see the bloodshed as a chill goes down your spine hearing the clashing of swords and grunts of the bodyguards. Before you know it, it’s just you, Li Qi and Blade left in the warehouse. The loud groans and whines of the guards fill the air as their wounds hurt. There are streaks and splashes of blood all over the floor but none of that bothers Blade however as he stands in front of you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and your captor.
“D-do not take another step! Or- or I will kill her!”
Li Qi panics and screeches as he points the gun at your saviour and then back at you. All you do is flash a tiny smile at Blade. You’re tired, exhausted and the bruise forming on your neck and now the side of the forehead hurts. The willpower you had at the beginning of the situation has started to waver as you feel stale and unable to turn the tables. And with a splitting headache that only seems to get worse, you don’t have the brainpower to think either. You watch how he continues to look at you silently with eyes that carry concern and anger.
“Let her go.”
Blade states firmly. It is not a request, it is an order. The businessman looks visibly shaken from how his men are lying on the floor and the threatening command of the Stellaron Hunter. Instead of obeying, he frantically runs his mouth again.
“You, I know you! Aren’t you the guy that the IPC wants?! You’re a criminal yourself, how dare you tell me what to do?!”
Blade scoffs. You gulp, knowing this won’t end well. He says nothing and simply repeats his warning.
“I said let. Her. Go.”
You know he is not talking to you but somehow you’re starting to shiver in fear too. This man has always avoided almost any interaction with you yet here he was, asking your captor to release you with such a menacing aura. This side of him was so rare and frightening to see that you were silently praying you would never have to see it again.
Li Qi refuses to comply and Blade hmphs before drawing his sword once again and striking the arm of Li Qi. It all happens so fast that you barely have the chance to move as the blade whizzes past your ear and hits Qi. The gun drops from his hand on the ground with a loud thud as he wails in pain, clutching his injured arm with the other. Blood is trickling down his hands and arms and it splatters on your shoes. You stand there for a while stunned at what’s going on only to be brought back to your senses when Blade grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest.
“Huh-? Oh-!”
It takes you a moment to register your position. Your hands have subconsciously gripped his coat to steady yourself and his free hand is loosely hanging on your lower back. You can’t see his face from this position but you can hear his loud heartbeat and the way he takes slow deep breaths. He smells like blood and the finest mix of musky perfume, a scent you are unfamiliar with but still welcome. Suddenly you find yourself feeling flustered and awkward and try to pull away from his body only for his arm around you to tighten.
“B-blade?!”
Li Qi is still yelling and wailing behind you but being in Blade’s arms has somehow blocked it all out, like a magical shield that is keeping you safe. Your own heartbeat starts to increase as his crimson eyes meet yours and he maintains eye contact without breaking away.
“Fool.”
He finally speaks and you are baffled.
“What?”
“You are incredibly stupid.”
“Excuse me?”
“Is your hearing impaired?”
“My head is aching very badly, thank you very much.”
What the hell is with this man?! You scowl at the way he talks to you. You no longer want to be in his arms anymore and use your strength to push yourself away but to no avail. Frustrated you smack his chest grumbling at him.
“I’m ok now, can you let me go? Sheesh.”
As you both are bantering, behind you, Li Qi stumbles to grab his gun from the floor. There is a cruel smile on his face as he lifts the gun, points it straight at the back of your head and presses the trigger.
“…!”
Blade’s eyes suddenly narrow as he pushes you into his chest once again and hauls his weapon up to cover your skull just in time. You gasp as the bullet ricochets off his weapon with a loud shing leaving you stunned. You tremble in his arms from the impact, trying to process what just happened.
“Close your eyes.”
He says gently and you obey. All you hear is the sound of his blade being hurled at the businessman and an ear-piercing scream that makes your blood curdle. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. 
“Keep your eyes closed.”
He commands you and you nod. You feel the loss of his body warmth as he detaches himself from you and walks towards the businessman. Li Qi is lying on the floor with the sword piercing his chest as he gasps for air. He attempts to grab his gun again which is a few centimetres away from his fingers only for Blade to stomp on his hand and kick the gun away from him. You flinch at how the businessman screams.
“Holding an innocent hostage is a greater sin than mine.”
Blade says as a matter-of-factly and removes the sword from his chest. Another nightmarish scream rings in your ears and you open your eyes from the discomfort you feel. You don’t even want to turn around and see the state your captor might be in. Blade walks back and faces you, frowning when he sees your eyes open.
“I told you to keep your eyes closed.”
“I-I tried-“
“It doesn’t matter. Do not look back.”
“Okay..”
You reluctantly listen to him, feeling extremely uncomfortable at how the situation has evolved. A moment of silence passes before you speak again.
“Is he…dead?”
You watch him look behind you and hmph before replying.
“If he isn’t now…he will be later.”
“But if he dies…I will be implicated..”
“No one knew about your meeting except Kafka, Li Qi and I, correct? There should be no issue then.”
“Blade that’s not how it-“
“You nearly died.”
Blade says coldly and you feel your heart drop.
“I nearly died yes, but this-“
“Why are you so complicated to deal with?”
“…what?”
Now you feel anger bubbling in your chest.
“I was not the one who asked you to barge into the warehouse by the way.”
You hiss at him and he glares at you.
“And you expected to survive? Alone in this warehouse?”
“I don’t see why that bothers you.”
“Your foolishness will get you killed one day.”
“Even if it does, how does that impact you? Not like you want me around anyways.”
Your head was pounding, the bruises on your neck and forehead stung, you were fatigued and shaken up and this man was simultaneously insulting your intelligence and capabilities. Of course you were agitated. Blade stares at you for a moment before sighing.
“How it impacts me has nothing to do with you.”
“Are you even hearing yourself?!”
“He would have killed you easily.”
You press a hand against your forehead and take a deep breath. Why was he arguing with you?
“It is I that will be in deep trouble if Mr. Li Qi dies, not you or Kafka regardless of who knew about our meeting. I have a reputation to maintain unlike you. And by the way, I did not need you to save me. You don’t even care about me and frankly, you don’t even show an ounce of cooperation when I try to work with you.”
You take a step closer to him. Tears brim in your eyes as you express your frustration.
“If my death were written to be tonight,” you look him straight in the eye, “it wouldn’t change a thing in your life. In fact, I am sure you would be glad of my riddance.”
Audacity flows through your veins as you jab a finger in his chest with each word you speak. Tears stream down your face and your throat closes up from the emotions that swarm you.
“So don’t tell me how to feel. You have no right to do so.”
He looks at you, speechless and shocked at the way you’re behaving. In the blink of an eye, you furiously wipe your tears before dashing off. Everything hurts and you feel like you’re suffocating. You pay no heed to the injured guards or the blood all over the floor as you run as fast as your legs can take you away from this place. You don’t even turn to take a look at Blade’s reaction. So much for fulfilling a request. So much for simply wanting to do the right thing. It was supposed to be a simple mission, why did it turn out like this? And why, out of all people that could come save you, was it Blade that had become your saviour?
You weren’t trying to cozy up to him, you weren’t trying to take advantage of his power, you weren’t trying to do anything at all. You simply wanted a mutual alliance for the sake of teamwork but he didn’t even bother to reciprocate. All those times he left you hanging, making you feel embarrassed, making you feel like a fool…how dare he come to your aid and then proceed to make you feel like you weren’t even good enough?
You finally stop running when your legs grow weary. It takes a moment for you to realise you’re still in Stargazer Navalia though you’re not sure where exactly. The winds of the night are gentle as the moon shines brightly in the sky. At least it was all over right? At least now there will be no more cases of scamming and threats from Li Qi, at least now your family friend can finally breathe in relief, at least you’re still alive after all that so why, why do you feel worse than you did when you entered the warehouse?
You sit on the stone pavement near a large steel container, hugging your knees and sobbing your heart out. The bruises sting once again and you wince. You wince harder as you softly trace the bruise on the back of your neck. God, was it that bad? How long had Li Qi held you for you to bruise like this? Doesn’t matter. There was no point in thinking about it any further. You didn’t want to think about anything at all.
“There you are.”
A familiar deep voice rings in the distance and you look up to see Blade again. His breathing is heavier than usual and he sighs in relief as he lays his eyes on you.  How the hell did he even find me?! A scowl forms on your face and you bury your head back into your knees, unwilling to speak to him. He stands there for a while before coming closer to kneel in front of you awkwardly.
“Are you hurt?”
You roll your eyes knowing he can’t see them. Given that you don’t answer, he places a hand on your forehead and pushes your head up causing you to yelp. You try to resist but his strength overpowers yours.
“Leave me alone.”
You say coldly, refusing to make eye contact with him as he examines your face for injuries. He ignores your reply and frowns at your tear-stained face. One look at the bruise on the side of your head and his frown deepens.
“I should have killed him the moment I saw him.”
“W-what?!”
He ignores your reply again as he wipes the tears from your eyes. You flinch at his odd behaviour but don’t push him away. His hands drop from your face to your neck to observe the bruising.
“Stabbing him once didn’t suffice.”
The soul leaves your body as he states his murderous intentions to you absentmindedly while looking at your injury. How was he being so caring while mentioning such things?!
“Y-you you can go now…”
Blade shakes his head.
“You’re injured. You’re lucky these bruises are all you have. I was afraid that the gun…”
He trails off and looks in the distance again. For a man who lived and breathed murder and blood, he sure was hesitant talking about you nearly getting shot. You blink at him, shocked at the words coming out of his mouth. Was this…his way of showing care?
“I would have stabbed him over and over if he had shot you.”
You freeze and Blade feels the way your neck muscles tighten on his fingertips. He gives you a small smile that further scares you.
“I-If you’re saying these things to make me feel better you can stop now. I’m fine.”
“I am speaking my honest opinion.”
A blush creeps up on your face and warmth surges through your body. This hot shot was capable of being nice after all. You feel his fingers cup your face again as he softly strokes your tear-stained cheeks. The cool breeze toys with your hair and he gently pushes the loose strands away, not breaking eye contact with you. You don’t understand what he’s trying to do but you let him be.
“I…I did not mean to hurt your feelings earlier.”
You scoff and turn away.
“If anything had happened to you, I am unsure if I would be able to forgive myself.”
That statement alone makes you snap your head back to him and he smiles at you, his eyes softening with such warmth that it makes your heart beat faster. A smile so authentic that it almost makes you forget he is a wanted criminal with a 9 million bounty.
“You…should have told me you were meeting Li Qi earlier.”
“I would have if you bothered to listen when I talk.”
You glare at him and he sighs. Conflicting emotions are swirling in his eyes.
“I had no interest in talking to you before.”
“Do you find joy in insulting my existence or what?”
You fume as you push yourself up from the ground, wanting to get away from him. Blade follows suit as he immediately puts his arms around your waist, tightening his grip which makes you gasp.
“Blade what the hell is wrong with you?!”
“It is unsafe for you to go back on your own.”
“At least I won’t have to deal with you.”
His eyebrows knit together as he looks at you concerned.
“I cannot have you get hurt again.”
“Geez I am not a baby- Blade-!”
You barely finish your sentence as he picks you up bridal style out of nowhere causing you to tightly hold onto his coat once again. You squeeze your eyes shut as dizziness takes over and bury your head into his chest. A soft chuckle escapes his lips and you can’t help but smile at how he sounds. Any happy emotion from him is foreign to you yet cute at the same time. The loud heartbeat that vibrates from his chest soothes you somehow and that metallic musky scent of his calms your senses. Despite how he drives you crazy, you wish you could remain like this for as long as possible. Not that you would ever say that out loud.
“You will be safe from the law as long as you’re with me. I will have Kafka take care of this mess.”
Despite your protests on how ‘ I want to do this the right away’ and ‘I can tell the cloud knights the truth’ he just completely ignores everything you have to say as he walks away from Stargazer Navalia with you in his arms. A small smile of amusement is plastered on his face as he pays no heed to your ramblings about the law or the consequences of his actions. He never listens to you, does he? And for once, you don’t mind it either. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.
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tarotwithavi · 5 months
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10 things you need to know right now
Guidance for your 2024
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How to choose a pile?
Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.
Masterlist
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Pile 1
2024 is going to be the year of self work and career for you. You'll also find your soul purpose.
You've been through the most difficult part of your life, it is going to be easy from now on.
If you don't learn to be humble and grounded , it may become a problem for you.
You'll be gifted a dreamcatcher from a really significant person in your life.
You'll be getting some really great advice from a person you want to be like.
It's time to act. Don't procrastinate any longer. It's either now or never, the choice is yours.
You're worrying over nothing. write it down for now and read it in a few weeks. You'll realise how it was never that serious.
You may lose your grandparents this year, especially a feminine figure. Spend more time with your elders.
You're going to meet a goal oriented person. This person will guide you on your journey. You're being told to learn from them.
Yes family does matter. No matter how much you dislike them.
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Pile 2
Your family is going to be really important for you this year. Almost all the messages I got involve your family.
You need to pay attention to where your money is going, If not then you may suffer from material loss this year.
You need to make a concrete plan to achieve what you want. Plan ahead.
Control your anger and what you say when you're angry because if you don't then you may lose some really important people.
You may receive heritage or get a significant gift from your parents or grandparents. And one of your family wishes may come true.
Somebody around you is behaving stupidly. Talk to them and tell them about their mistakes.
Success is highly favored this year.
Be really careful to whom you share your business with because I see that somebody will be talking about your secrets.
It's useless to cry and get upset over something you can't have. Focus on what you can have. Mentality changes your reality.
Trust and you'll see the successful outcome to your problems.
August and October may be significant months for you.
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Pile 3
2024 Is going to be the year of love and relationships for you.
Some of you are going to find your soulmate and get into a healthy relationship.
Misunderstanding may get you this year. Try to have clear communication with the people you love.
You'll be spending vacation with your significant other this year.
You may get separation anxiety. Or get worried that something or someone is working against you.
Something you sincerely wished for in 2022-23 is going to be granted. You're being told to show your gratitude by helping others.
2024 is going to be one of the best years of your life and you'll remember the things you'll do in 2024 forever.
Somebody may try to get between you and your significant other/a friend or something that you want.
You may get disappointed over some situations but you'll be grateful for what's about to come.
I see that you'll be taking a risk in 2024 but this risk will help you a lot.
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edutechbits · 2 years
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Examples Of Business Goals to Set Right Now
Examples Of Business Goals to Set Right Now
Examples Of Business Goals to Set Right Now When it’s time to pass your business enterprise forward, you can also want some right examples of commercial enterprise goals. Thus, I have compiled this complete commercial enterprise dreams examples list. So you can select from some of the satisfactory options. Whether your goals consist of strategic planning, growth, or profitability. We have these…
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punkshort · 7 months
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look what we've become - ch.1
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Chapter Summary: Tommy asks for your help proposing to Maria, causing both you and Joel to reflect on your own relationship.
Chapter Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, fear of commitment, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, dirty talk
WC: 6.1K
Series masterlist | Next Chapter
A/N: hi everyone! if you're new and didn't read the first story, this follows a slightly different timeline. Essentially, Joel and Tommy had a very successful construction business in NYC and reader worked for them pre-outbreak, so I've written in this story a slightly younger version of Joel given the timeline.
Thank you to everyone who loved the first one so much that it encouraged me to write a sequel! I really hope you like it, and I want to emphasize there will be a happy ending to this story. Thanks for reading!
June 2007
"Can't thank you enough for your help, darlin'," Tommy said, his voice trying and failing to hide the anxiety that plagued his mind.
"Don't mention it," you told him, finishing up the final touches on the bouquet of flowers, wrapping a beautiful satin ribbon around the stems before handing it over. "What's the occasion?"
"I'm gonna ask her to marry me," he blurted out, and your hands instantly flew to your mouth, covering your excited gasp.
"Tommy!" you squealed, bouncing on the balls of your feet, trying to contain your energy before giving up and rounding your workstation to wrap your arms around him, being mindful not to crush the flowers he was holding. "I'm so happy for you, oh my god!"
"Well, thanks, but she ain't agreed, yet," he said, running a shaky hand through his long hair.
"She's going to say yes, don't be silly," you told him, a smile permanently etched on your face. You and Maria have been close friends ever since you met three years ago. You considered her to be your closest friend in Jackson, and you were thrilled at the idea of your best friend about to experience the happiest moment of her life. Tommy had come a long way from the man you knew before the outbreak, his days of chasing every girl that tossed him a smile long behind him.
"So, how are you going to do it?" you asked excitedly as he shifted back and forth on his feet. He paused and flicked his eyes up.
"Uh," he said, growing shifty. "Well, I dunno. Do I gotta plan somethin'?"
"Yes!" you said, rolling your eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.
"Well, shit, I didn't think that far ahead!" he exclaimed, turning to pace around the greenhouse.
"Don't stress, we'll figure something out," you assured him, scooting back so you could lift your hips and sit on your workstation tabletop. "Did you find a ring?"
"Yeah, I got that, at least," he said, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he dug it out of his pocket. You plucked it from his fingers carefully so you could get a better look at the three round, shiny diamonds set on the center of a gold band.
"It's perfect," you told him warmly, handing it back. He allowed a small smile as he shoved it back into the safety of his pocket.
"Will you help me figure out how to do it?" he asked.
"Of course I will," you told him. "She doesn't like a fuss. It should be private. Small. Romantic. And you need to come up with something thoughtful to say." He nodded, his gaze traveling to the wall, lost in thought before he shifted his eyes back to you.
"Like what?"
"Tommy! Come on!" you scolded him, shoving his shoulder.
"I ain't good at all that, cut me some slack!" he said with a grin. "I need an example. What would you wanna hear?"
You paused, your smile frozen on your face as you felt your blood run cold. Your smile began to slowly slip as your heart slammed in your chest, anxiety creeping up your neck, ears ringing. Naturally, you were thinking about Joel bending down on one knee, professing his love to you and begging you to be his forever. A thought that should have filled you with warmth, but instead, scared you shitless. And your reaction itself made it even worse. Why would the thought of Joel proposing scare you? You never wanted anyone else. Once you met, it just wasn't a question anymore. You were his, and he was yours. An understanding, it didn't need to be said. So why does the thought of him saying it make you feel like you're falling down an endless hole in the ground?
"Um," you managed to squeak out, but Tommy had already moved on, wrapped up in his own dilemma.
"I think I know what I could say," he said, not noticing your sudden paralysis. "Can you do me a favor, though? Could you round up any candles you ain't usin'? Preferably unscented, don't need the whole place smellin' like a mix of cookies, pine and roses."
"Yeah, of course. I'll look when I get home and bring them over," you mumbled.
"Great, thanks again, darlin'! I'll see you in a bit," he said with a more confident smile, rushing out the door to leave you with your thoughts, your legs swinging mindlessly over the edge of the workstation. The workstation Joel had thoughtfully built for you because he insisted you needed somewhere proper to work in the greenhouse.
And he also broke the only desk you had.
You hung your head, feeling shameful and confused. Why hadn't you ever thought about this before? What would you have done if he proposed and you never sorted out your feelings about marriage? About kids?
"Shit," you whispered, the mere thought of kids making your throat squeeze shut. Bringing a child into this world? He wouldn't want to do that, would he?
Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. Maybe he felt the same as you. Why change something that's working so well? You both loved each other, what difference did it make? But the devil on your shoulder threw back a counter argument.
If it didn't make a difference, then why didn't you want to do it?
You rubbed the heels of your hands into your eyes aggressively. You really needed to stop making problems out of nothing. This wasn't about you and Joel, it was about Tommy and Maria.
You sighed and made your way down the long aisle towards the door, deciding it was close enough to the end of your shift.
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"Hey, I was callin' your name, didn't you hear me?"
You nearly jumped out of your skin and turned around to find Joel leaning against the doorframe of the spare bedroom. He eyed up the half empty box next to you on the floor and looked back at you questioningly.
"No, sorry, guess I was lost in my thoughts or something," you told him, turning back to rifle through the plastic storage tote. Joel took a few steps into the room and sat down on the spare bed, the springs squeaking under his weight.
"What're you thinkin' about?" he asked as he watched you pulling out each candle and giving them a sniff before deciding which pile to add them to.
"Huh?" you asked him, still jumpy from your revelation earlier. "Oh, it's nothing, really." Even to your own ears, the excuse sounded lame, so you weren't surprised when Joel didn't buy it.
"Must be somethin' if it's got you all distracted," he urged you gently. You shook your head and gave him a believing smile.
"No, really, it's nothing. Just thinking about work. I left early today, I'm just thinking about what I need to do tomorrow," you lied as you finished up going through the candles, snapping the plastic tote lid back on and shoving it into the spare closet.
"Why'd you leave early?" Joel asked with his eyebrows knit. "Feelin' okay?"
He's always so thoughtful, so concerned about you. It made the pit in your stomach worsen, the guilt flaring.
"Oh, yeah, fine. I just told Tommy I would get him these extra candles as soon as possible, so I'm gonna head over there real quick," you explained. As you leaned down to pick up the box, Joel's hand shot out to stop you, choosing instead to lift it up himself.
"I can do it," he said, then looked back down at the open box curiously. "Why does he need so many candles?"
"Well," you said, turning to leave the room so your face wouldn't give anything away when you told him. "He's going to propose to Maria. He has some special thing planned, involving candles, I guess. We should probably standby in case he lights the house on fire," you joked over your shoulder as you made your way down to the kitchen. You knew you were rambling a bit, but you hoped Joel didn't pick up on your nervousness.
"He's what?" Joel exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks in the hallway, still holding the box of candles. You turned your attention towards him again as you leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Yep, he told me today. He asked me to make a bouquet for him at work," you told him, studying his face carefully. Joel looked stunned as he stared out the window behind you while he processed the information.
"Well, goddamn," he said, finally snapping out of it with a smirk. "I'll take these over so I can give him shit for not tellin' me sooner." He readjusted the box in his arms before he turned around towards the front door, his reaction giving you a bit of relief. He was just happy for his brother, and didn't appear to be overthinking your own relationship, like you couldn't stop doing.
Naturally, you worried about nothing. You were both perfectly content with the way things were. Feeling silly for even being nervous in the first place, you followed him to the front door and stopped him before he left.
"Hey, wait," you said from the door, causing him to turn around just as he was about to descend the stairs. "How about a kiss before you go?"
He grinned and, dropping the box in a chair by the front door, reached forward with both hands to cradle your face and pulled you towards him, his lips pressing firmly against yours. Your fingers gripped the front of his T-shirt as you sighed contentedly against him, his usual scent of gunpowder, sweat and something uniquely him filling your nostrils. You opened your mouth and licked gently at his lips, causing him to smile and slide his tongue alongside yours with a quiet groan while one of his hands released your jaw to get tangled in your hair. He gave your head a gentle tug backwards in an attempt to get you to open your mouth wider, but when a soft moan escaped your lips from the sensation, he felt himself stiffen in his jeans. He pulled you back further so you lost contact and he looked down at your flushed face, his hands still in your hair and on your jaw.
"I'll take these later," he said huskily, nodding to the candles next to the door as he walked you backwards inside the house.
"No, no, you have to take them now," you giggled as his mouth latched onto your neck. "He needs them before Maria gets home." He growled against your skin and begrudgingly pulled away, his eyes raking up and down your body before he stepped backwards.
"Don't move, I'll be back in ten minutes," he told you, grabbing the box and jogging down the steps. You laughed and closed the door behind him, wondering why you let yourself get worked up over nothing. Everything was great between you, you were never more sure of anything in your life. In the back of your mind, you knew you had to figure out why you had such a negative reaction to the thought of marriage in the first place, but you decided to put that off for another day.
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"Can't believe you didn't tell me, you little shit," Joel teased with a smirk the minute Tommy swung the door open. He pushed his way into the house and glanced around quickly to make sure Maria wasn't there before turning back to Tommy.
"Heard you needed some mood lighting," Joel said, raising an eyebrow when Tommy ruefully snatched the box from his arms.
"Yeah, thanks," was all Tommy could manage, his nerves getting the best of him the more time passed.
"Nervous or somethin'?" Joel asked his brother as he casually took in the half-done scene he was setting in the living room. Candles were randomly dispersed throughout the room and two empty wine glasses were placed on top of the mantle.
"Yeah, I'm fuckin' nervous, 'course I'm nervous, shit," Tommy said as he raked a hand through his hair and got to work sifting through the box.
"Well, it ain't like she's gonna say 'no'," said Joel in a poor attempt at easing his brother's nerves.
"Don't matter. I gotta do it right. It'll mean a lot to her, she's probably got some fantasy in her head already 'bout how it'll go. I can't screw this up," Tommy said as he pushed past Joel to balance more candles on the bookshelf.
"Nah, you're overthinkin' it, they just like the ring so they can show it off," Joel replied, thinking back briefly to the time when he was engaged before the outbreak. Amy hardly cared about the effort he put into the proposal, but her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw the huge diamond he picked out.
"Oh, brother, you couldn't be more wrong. Your own girl told me I need to do somethin' thoughtful. Somethin' romantic. Shit, you're lucky you got me before you swiped the biggest rock you could find and think that'll be enough to make her happy," Tommy grinned as he nudged Joel's shoulder playfully, making his way back into the kitchen to pick out a bottle of wine.
Joel chewed on his lower lip and cracked his knuckles before scratching his beard, his eyes flicking around the room, lost in thought, while Tommy began to light the candles. Tommy noticed the sudden silence and paused, straightening up and raising an eyebrow at his brother.
"You already got a ring, don't you?"
Joel met his gaze for a moment before clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.
"I've had it for months," Joel admitted, bringing his thumb and pointer finger up to rub his eyes.
"Holy shit, Joel! Why didn't you say anythin'?" Tommy exclaimed, walking over to clap his brother on the back.
"I don't know. You never said anythin', either," he said with a shrug.
"Well, when are you gonna do it?" Tommy asked, turning back to light the candles, grateful for the distraction.
"Don't know. Never seems like the right time," said Joel as he picked up the bottle of red wine Tommy placed on the mantle, scrutinizing the label. "And it's a good thing, too, seein' as I need to rethink how I'm gonna ask her, apparently."
"Yeah, well, one of these days I can ask Maria for advice, if you want," Tommy said, brushing his palms on the sides of his jeans as he made his way to the window, peering out to make sure she wasn't coming home early. "Least I could do, since I got help from your girl."
"Yeah, maybe," Joel replied as he distractedly ran his palm over his mouth.
"Alright, get the hell out of here, I gotta change and put the flowers in a vase before Maria gets home," Tommy said, pushing Joel towards the front door. He opened the door but Joel paused, turning around quickly and enveloping Tommy in a rare, quick hug.
"Congrats, brother. She's gonna love it," he said, gesturing vaguely around the living room. Tommy grinned and nodded.
"Thanks. Now leave, I mean it," he said, giving Joel a shove. Joel laughed and shook his head.
"I'm leavin', I'm leavin'," he said with a wave over his shoulder. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way slowly down the street.
He was telling Tommy the truth about the ring. He hadn't gone out looking for it, but one day, months ago, when he was on patrol with Eugene, he just happened to see it. They had been exploring an abandoned shopping mall, and when he walked by the jewelry store, he had glanced inside at the broken glass display cases and spotted what he thought was the perfect ring for you. It was an oval diamond set on a delicate, white gold band. He had picked it up and examined it thoughtfully, imagining what it would look like on your finger. He briefly looked at the other choices, and none of the others seemed to resonate with him the way that one did. So he pocketed it before Eugene noticed he was lingering, and hid it in an old shoe he had in the closet when he got home.
When he first came home with the ring, he couldn't stop fantasizing about how he would ask you, what he would say, what you would say. But he hadn't been in any rush to ask, and he hadn't really thought about it much after that, he just knew he wanted to spend his life with you. He had almost forgotten all about it until you told him about Tommy's plan earlier that day. But now that his brother had him thinking about it again, the idea of officially making you his and calling you his wife made him feel excited.
He walked through the front door and kicked his boots off before he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he saw you drying some plates and putting them away. You glanced over your shoulder when you heard him enter the room before turning back to your task.
"Little longer than ten minutes," you teased. You were drying your hands on the dish towel when his arms snaked around your waist and he buried his face in the back of your neck. You squirmed, his grip loosening so you could turn around and gently circle your arms around his neck. "What took you so long?"
He shrugged and leaned down to press a chaste kiss where your neck met your shoulder.
"Just got to talkin'," he murmured, pressing another kiss in the same spot. You hummed and tilted your head to the side a bit, closing your eyes.
"I was thinking, maybe we should throw them an engagement party," you whispered, trying to stay focused as his lips brushed along your neck, his scruffy beard giving you goosebumps. "I can ask Carrie to help, she loves that kind of thing."
"That'd be nice," he mumbled in agreement, flipping his head in the other direction so he could continue his torture on the opposite side of your neck. "We can have it here."
"Yeah," you sighed as you shifted your weight, trying to ignore the ache growing between you legs. "I thought we could - "
You inhaled sharply when he pinched the skin of your collarbone between his teeth, leaving an angry red mark there. Your fingers found their way into his dark curls, gripping them tightly as your breathing became shallow.
"Hm?" he asked, hiding his smirk against your skin.
"Thought we could do it outside," you mumbled, quickly finishing your thought.
"Whatever you want," he said, his voice gravelly as he pulled you into him roughly, earning a small yelp from you. His lips latched onto yours, softly humming against your mouth, the warm exhale from your nose fanning gently over his face. You pulled away, breaking the kiss as he began slowly walking you backwards towards the stairs, his eyes dark as he stared you down.
"Maybe Julia's class can make decorations. I think Maria would like that," you said breathlessly, gazing up at him, meeting his heated stare. "What do you think?"
Joel gave you half a smirk when the backs of your legs bumped up against the lowest step.
"I think you better get up to bed right now before I toss you over my shoulder and do it myself," he said lowly, sending a shiver down your spine.
A playful grin spread across your face as you turned on your heel and raced up the stairs, Joel following hot on your trail, taking them two at a time.
You barely pushed the bedroom door open before his hands were on you, eagerly skirting over your hips and up your arms before coming to rest on your jaw, cradling your head in his hands tenderly as his tongue slid between your lips, reveling in your warmth. Being with you always felt like home to him, it was where he was always meant to be.
"So beautiful," he mumbled against your mouth before he pressed his lips against yours again, his fingers gripping your head a little tighter, like he was afraid you would float away.
Your fingers deftly worked on undoing his jeans as he continued to walk you towards the bed. Just as you were about to reach below his waistband, he scooped down to pick you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, clinging to him as he softly placed you both down.
He lifted his head up a fraction to look down at you underneath him, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, looking at you with admiration. His eyes flicked up to the open closet door, the urge to confirm the shoe with the ring in it was still in its rightful place, that you hadn't accidentally found it.
"What is it?" you asked him breathlessly, noticing how his attention had been stolen away. He quickly brought his gaze back down to you with a sly smile.
"Nothin'," he said with a shake of his head, then leaned down to part your lips again with his tongue, curling his fingers along the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with slow, leisurely licks inside your mouth. Your fingers danced over his broad shoulders for a moment before you made your way down his chest and stomach, pausing to gently rake your nails through the coarse hair at the top of his boxers, then plunging down to wrap your hand around his stiff cock.
He groaned softly into your mouth when you gave him a squeeze, his hips shallowly thrusting forward into your hand as you stroked him up and down.
"Slow down," Joel gasped, tearing himself away from your mouth and flexing his fingers around your wrist, stopping you. "Wanna take my time with you tonight," he drawled, taking your hand away and pinning it lightly into the mattress.
"Joel," you whined, lifting your hips up from the bed, frustrated. He tutted and shook his head.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You know I always do," he said huskily, his mouth latching onto your neck. "Wanna take care of you for the rest of my life," he added quietly, his voice muffled against your skin and lost in the sounds of your moans. You tipped your head back, your free hand sliding through his thick curls, fingernails raking against his scalp just the way he likes.
He let go of your hand so he could lift your shirt over your head, followed quickly by your bra. Slowly, his eyes swept over your bare chest, his knuckles brushing against your nipple and watching as it perked up in response, then once he was satisfied, did the same to the other.
"So soft," he muttered to himself before diving down and sucking one into his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking against your nipple before he flattened it against your sensitive skin, licking slow, hot stripes up and down. He lifted his mouth from your skin and blew gently over the wetness his tongue left behind. You gasped at the sensation, your cunt clenching around nothing as he switched sides, giving the same attention to your other breast while his fingers roamed around your waist, then dipped down to squeeze your ass and hips.
You whined his name and tugged on his hair, begging him to touch you, vaguely wondering why he was in the mood to take things so painfully slow, but you were unable to form a coherent thought other than why are my fucking jeans still on?
"Joel, please," you whimpered, pathetically jutting your hips upwards, trying to find friction against him to no avail. He finally released your breast and looked up at you, your chest heaving, hair a mess and your eyes glazed over, already looking completely wrecked. He smirked at the sight and pushed himself up, hovering over you.
"Alright, sweetheart, I'll give you one," he said, much to your relief as his hand came between you to pop open your jeans. He pulled down the zipper and you hooked your thumbs into your belt loops, helping to pull them down as quickly as you could and kicked them off. His eyes glanced down, feeling his cock twitch when saw the dark spot leaking through your panties.
He looped his fingers around the sides of your underwear and pulled them off, then flattened his palms on the insides of your thighs so he could admire the mess he made of you. He ran his middle finger up the length of your seam, testing the waters before dipping inside, marveling at how soaked you were already. His eyes drifted up to your face, mesmerized as you writhed underneath him, your eyes screwed shut and your brows pinched as you focused on his second finger entering your aching cunt.
"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered, snapping your eyes open just to find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark and filled with want. You rocked your hips forward, trying to make him go faster, but he continued to slowly pump both fingers in and out, in and out, curling his fingertips as he reached inside, brushing against the spot that he knows makes you fall apart.
"That feel better?" he breathed, and you nodded, clutching the sheets in your fist as the fire in your stomach began to burn, the warmth creeping up your chest and neck with every plunge of his fingers. His thumb brushed gently over your clit and you cried out, your body stiffening underneath him as you felt your orgasm steadily approach, your breath coming in short gasps when he finally began to circle the swollen bundle of nerves.
"Faster," you croaked, tipping your head back, but he shook his head and continued his torturous pace.
"It'll feel better this way," he said, and you groaned. "Do you trust me?" he asked, and you brought your head back down so you could look at him again.
"Yes," you whispered, watching as his eyes lit up and a smug grin spread across his face.
"Then let go," he ordered. You inhaled sharply as you felt your walls clench down and your release drip down his fingers, your orgasm slowly ripping through you with a strangled moan. You reached out and grabbed his wrist when it became too much, your body relaxing onto the bed and your eyes fluttering shut.
He slid his fingers out, earning a hiss from you before he popped them into his mouth. You opened your eyes weakly as you watched him suck his fingers, his other hand palming his erection over his jeans and looking down at you panting beneath him, his gaze dark.
"I need more," he murmured as he shimmied down the bed to settle his face between your legs, his hands sliding up your shaky thighs to pin them down to the mattress.
"Wait, Joel," you told him breathlessly. "Too soon, I - it's too much," you said, pulling feebly at his hair. He ignored you, too lost in his own thoughts, the fantasy of making you his and calling you his wife consuming him.
He licked a stripe through your folds, his tongue plunging inside briefly before taking another long, slow drag. You wiggled under his hold with a gasp, your body involuntarily trying to squirm away from overstimulation, but his large hands pinned you down as his tongue probed further inside you.
He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't stop. He felt like a man possessed. He alternated between licking and nibbling at your sensitive cunt, trying to avoid your most sensitive area until he knew you could handle it. Only when he finally felt your legs relax under his palms and heard your breathy moans of encouragement did he venture up to press his tongue flat against your clit. Your fingers tugged at his curls, his eyes rolling to the back of his head with a moan. He always loved it when you pulled on his hair. He sucked your clit into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue slowly, trying to drag out the pleasure as long as possible.
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The pressure building inside you too intense. You felt like you were vibrating, Joel's expert hands and mouth making your body pulse and thrum, your breaths shallow and sharp.
You tried to say his name, but it came out as a pathetic whimper instead. The way he lapped at your fluttering cunt was making you dizzy. You were hyper aware of how rough his facial hair felt on your raw skin, a stark contrast to how soft his tongue felt on your folds. The muscles in your stomach began to clench as you felt yourself rocketing towards your second orgasm.
Joel felt you twitch under his forearm and knew you were close. He pressed his face further into you, thrusting his hips into the mattress to find some relief while he sucked and nibbled on your swollen clit, your moans morphing into high pitched cries, fingers frantically grasping and slipping through his curls.
Your back arched off the bed, tears trickling down your cheeks as you fell over the edge, your body jerking underneath him while you screamed his name. His hands clutched your legs, trying to keep himself attached as he worked you through it.
He finally pulled back with a gasp when you managed to writhe away, desperate to give your trembling body a break, completely overwhelmed. You each panted for breath as you stared at one another for a moment, your legs still shaking from the aftershock.
"Christ, Joel," you rasped, your voice hoarse as you wiped your tears away with the back of your hand.
"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, running a hand through his hair before wiping his mouth, his gaze softening as he took in your wrecked state. "Can't get enough of you."
"I can see that," you teased, the corners of your mouth turning upwards into a smirk. Your eyes flicked down to his pants, noticing his cock straining painfully against the denim. "Come here," you whispered, beckoning him with your arms. He grinned and quickly pulled his shirt over his head before kicking off his boxers and jeans. He crawled up the bed slowly, hovering over your body. You ran your hands gently over his arms, sending a shiver down his spine, before grasping the back of his neck and pulling him down for a deep kiss. He moaned against your mouth, his lips gently massaging your own while his tongue gave you a taste of your arousal.
"Are you sure you can handle it?" he asked, looking down between your bodies where your hand was directing his cock to your entrance.
"We're gonna find out," you said with a sigh, feeling his thick head notch against you. He pushed forward and you gasped at the familiar sting of being stretched open. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pressed on, slowing giving you every inch of him before bottoming out with a groan of relief.
"Fuck," he whispered, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck while he took a moment to just appreciate the feel of you. You wiggled your hips slightly underneath him to get more comfortable as your body relaxed and adjusted to his size.
"I'll never get tired of that feeling," you murmured into his hair.
"Hope not," he said, lifting his head up with a smirk. He held your gaze as he slowly dragged his cock in and out, in and out until your head tilted back and your eyes slid shut, your lips parted as you gasped softly each time he pushed back inside. He nibbled tenderly at your jaw, fucking you with deep, long strokes while your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer each time.
"God, you feel so good," you moaned, yanking his face up and kissing him messily, your fingertips digging into his skin. He kept up the slow pace, savoring the feeling of just being close and intimate, while each powerful thrust caused tip of his cock to make contact with the most sensitive spot inside you, stoking the flames and pushing you to the edge.
"Fuck, I love you so fuckin' much, you know that?" he gasped, his lips hovering above your open mouth as he gazed down at you, watching your eyes glaze over with each slow drag, in and out. "D'you - shit - d'you see what you do to me? Huh?" He gripped your jaw when he saw your eyes begin to flutter close, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. "Look at me, sweetheart. Need you to look at me," he begged, his climax quickly approaching but he refused to pick up the pace, enjoying the slow way he was fucking you way too much.
"Yes," you whispered, forcing your eyes open to give him what he needed. He nodded, loosening his grip on your jaw and letting his hand fall limply. He looked down, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and coming back out, coated in your slick. He groaned at the sight and glanced back up at you, your gaze still transfixed on his face, just as he asked.
"Can't believe you're really mine," he muttered to himself in disbelief with a small shake of his head, his eyes roaming over your face and chest. "Can't believe I'm the one that gets to fuck you."
"I'm yours," you whimpered, biting down on your lower lip as you felt your body begin to tense up, like a band ready to snap.
"Yeah?" he asked hopefully, his wide eyes locking back onto yours. He knew you didn't mean it the way he wanted to hear it, that it was just something you said in the heat of the moment, but he didn't care. He allowed himself to have the fantasy, anyway.
"Just you, only you," you babbled, knowing exactly what he liked to hear. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, fucking into you a little faster now.
"Keep talkin', just like that," he said through gritted teeth, his arms wrapping around your ribs as his hips snapped into you, eliciting a low moan from your throat.
"N-nobody else, all y-yours, only want you," you rambled before the band snapped and your vision went spotty. You cried out and clenched down around him, the intensity of a third orgasm depleting all your energy and almost immediately, your muscles went slack.
"That's right, good girl," Joel said, watching you fall apart under him. "All mine. Mine - mine - mine!" he grunted, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust before pulling out just in time to come all over your stomach, watching in a daze as each burst of his hot spend coated your soft skin.
He collapsed next to you, both struggling to catch your breath. Your arm draped over your eyes and you contemplated falling asleep just like that, not even sure you had the strength to stand anyway. After a moment, he reached over to his nightstand to snatch up a handkerchief, and he gently cleaned you up as your breathing stabilized. Gingerly, he lifted your arm away from your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, then your swollen lips before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Wow," you whispered hoarsely, finally opening your eyes. He chuckled and nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, wow," he said, laying back down next to you. "That was somethin' else," he added, rubbing his palms roughly over his face.
You rolled onto your side, wincing at the soreness in your legs and hips already, and draped an arm across his body.
"Where did all that come from?" you asked sleepily, nuzzling your face into his chest. He shrugged.
"Don't know," he lied as he rubbed small circles across your back. You hummed, accepting his response without a second thought. His eyes drifted back over to the closet briefly before reaching over and turning off the light, tugging the sheets over your bodies and resuming the circles on your back until he heard your breathing slow, confirming you were asleep.
He stared in the dark at the ceiling, thinking about how and when he should ask you to marry him. He didn't want to take away from Tommy and Maria, so he figured he should put it off for a while, but that didn't stop him from closing his eyes that night and dreaming about what it would be like to be your husband.
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Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed
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hannie-dul-set · 7 months
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THREE'S A CROWD — [preview].
SYNOPSIS. three of your friends fight for your affection, totally not because they like you— but simply because they can’t stand the idea of you liking someone else.
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PAIRINGS. jung sungchan, park wonbin, hong seunghan x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, rom-com, reverse harem, just a bunch of arrogant and silly little boys in denial, a collection of italicized oh moments in succession, featuring the rest of riize and nct. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mild possessiveness, so much petty and childish behavior, drinking, breaking and entering, may add more in the full fic. WORD COUNT. preview: 3.2k | full fic: est. 15-18k.
RELEASE DATE. november to december. TAGLIST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.
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NOTE. i said i'd do it. so i did. i am. and i'm having so much fun writing another shitstorm of a harem so i hope you find this as fun as i do HAHAHHAHA. sick and tired of seeing nothing but smut under the riize x reader tag so here is my contribution to society. you're welcome.
preview under the cut.
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THERE ARE CURRENTLY THREE HEADS IN THE MALE DORMITORY LOUNGE. One is Sungchan, tinkering with the foosball table by himself because the other two heads are refusing to play with him. Second is Wonbin laid comfortably on the couch, headphones on and using his lap as a drum set. Last is Seunghan, on the floor for some reason, and eyes trained intently on his phone with his thumbs tapping on the screen like a madman.
The number gets added when Sohee rushes in from the front door, a large McDonald’s paper bag in hand and four large cups of soda in the other. “Order’s here!” he announces. The three heads quickly pop up from their respective businesses and congregate to the dining corner of the room.
“Fuck,” Sungchan groans, following the scent of the warm, freshly cooked mcnuggets on the table. The other three are already seated and poking holes in their soda cups. Sungchan is still groaning like a zombie. The two open nugget boxes are enticing him. He won’t . He must not. “I can’t eat. I forgot I had dinner plans tonight.”
“With a girl?” Sohee asks. The number of nuggets is depleting by the second. If the rest of the guys come down, there will be none left for him.
“Yes,” Sungchan replies. He swallows hard. Wonbin takes the boot shaped chicken right before his very eyes. This is torture.
Seunghan scrunches his nose, mid-nugget. “Boo. You whore. It’s guys night. How can you do this to us?” 
“A few nuggets can’t hurt,” says Wonbin. He pokes the box closer to Sungchan. 
“You’re right. Move over.”
They snort at his flimsy conviction. Sungchan argues that he is simply experiencing the delicacies of both the east and the west tonight. You’re supposed to have Japanese with him tonight. There is nothing wrong with cross-cultural enjoyment. He is simply diversifying his palate.
“So, is it a date?” asks Seunghan.
“No. I’m just eating out with a friend.”
“Just the two of you?” 
Wonbin raises a brow with the question. Sungchan counts the numbers in his head. “Yeah.” If he eats another nugget, then that would make it five. Five can be counted with only one hand. That isn’t a lot. This is fine.
“Oh man,” Sohee snickers. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s a date.”
“No way!” he defends, the fifth and final nugget stuffed in his mouth. Sungchan swallows before continuing, wiping his hand on the pile of tissue papers on the table. “It’s not a date. I mean, she did tell me that she has a little crush on me, but it’s not a date.”
The three don’t miss the slight curl of his lips— a bastard’s sly grin. It’s a date. It’s definitely a date. Seunghan gives him a hard smack on the back. “The girl has a crush on you, how is it not a date, you piece of shit?”
“Ow! Hey!” he glares at him. “It really isn’t! We even had a whole talk we’re keeping it strictly platonic. I’m not interested in her in that way and she knows that. I’m not doing anything wrong here!”
There’s both disappointment and judgment in Wonbin’s face. “Quit leading her on.”
Sungchan gasps. “I’m not!”
“Who is it anyway?” Sohee asks right before taking an obnoxious sip on his soda. “Maybe I know her.”
“Well, I doubt it,” he starts. “I’m pretty sure you guys don’t know her, but she’s—”
Your name stumbles out of Sungchan’s mouth. It falls quiet, save for Sungchan’s explanation that he met you through the soccer team’s captain, Nakamoto Yuta, and that he’s known you for around half a year now. You’re in different majors, but it turns out you have quite a lot of friends from his team, so you bump into each other a lot. Sungchan knew about your crush on him early into your acquaintanceship— which is why having dinner with you and just you isn’t, “and shouldn’t be that big of a deal! It’s not a date. Seriously.”
“Okay, it’s not a date,” Sohee relents. Sungchan nods proudly at his victory.
“Yes. It is not.”
“But you know what’s funny—” Sohee’s eyes move to Seunghan. “The girl you told me about has the same name. What a coincidence.”
Seunghan is sitting on the table like a mound of stone. He’s got a half-eaten nugget in his hands. He’s not putting it in his mouth. “That’s right,” he simply says. There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “That is pretty funny. What a coincidence.” Coincidence, Seunghan repeats in his head. Yes. It must be a coincidence. He nods to himself and throws the nugget remnants into his mouth, satisfied with that conclusion.
“What girl?” Wonbin rouses. Seunghan turns his head to him sharply.
“Oh,” he says. “A friend from highschool.”
“A friend that’s had feelings for him since highschool,” Sohee grins. “You said she was pretty. Why didn’t you two start dating?”
Is this the chicken’s fault? Why the heck does everything keep circling back to dating? “I don’t know. I’ve just never seen her in that light,” Seunghan explains. He doesn’t know why he’s getting riled up, but he is. “And just because someone confessed to you doesn’t mean they want to start dating. Dude, I feel like you’re the one that should go and find a date. Being single is getting to your head.”
Seunghan has been friends with you since eleventh grade, being classmates and all. You confessed to him early into grade twelve, and even though he didn’t return your feelings, it was never awkward because you never acted differently. In fact, sometimes he second guesses if it actually happened. Just a few days ago, he asked if you still like him to confirm. All you said was, “yeah, why?” and continued working on your assignment. That’s why sometimes he forgets. That’s why it’s not worth bringing up.
Until now, when your name suddenly keeps popping up. Wonbin utters the same. Seunghan and Sungchan’s head quickly snap towards him. “You guys aren’t talking about SM-ARTS Chairperson, right?”
SM-ARTS is an art organization in your university. It’s been a well known org since its foundation— half because of its achievements, half because of its stupid (smart) name. “That’s...yes, that is her.” Seunghan gets a bad feeling. A really bad fucking feeling, and it’s not just having too much unhealthy chicken nuggets from McDonald’s. “Why? Do you also know her?”
“Of course I do. I’m literally her Vice Chair,” Wonbin furrows his brows. This is strange. He’s been working with you since the beginning of the year and you’ve never mentioned a Jung Sungchan nor a Hong Seunghan before. What’s even stranger is their assertions that you have feelings for them. You. For them. It’s a ridiculous thought to entertain because, “she literally told me that he has a crush on me. What are you two talking about?”
Wonbin couldn’t get a more direct confession than yours. It’s typical for the rest of your org officers and members to tease the both of you— the snickers and hollers when you’d call him to discuss something in private, the teasing saying you two look good together. Hell, some of the kids even call you both mom and dad and it’s gone to the point where he’s told them off to quit it because you might be uncomfortable. But you’d always say, “it’s fine,” and “you didn’t mind,” with a sweet smile on your face. Now, he’s no stranger to those insinuations, and for the sake of your professional relationship, he needed your denial or agreement.
Turns out, you do have a crush on him.
So this has become very, very awkward.
“Maybe—” Sungchan stammers. “Maybe...maybe we’re each talking about a different person, maybe there’s actually three different— oh, hey. What are you doing here?”
Speak of the devil and she shall appear.
“Hey!” 
The sound of your voice bouncing around the male dormitory walls feel foreign and jarring, especially after the conversation that had just transpired. You set down your bag on their couch, walking up to them with a bright smile that doesn’t match their vibe at all.
There’s tension in the air. A very thick and palpable tension and the three are exchanging glances and looks as if to say, ‘Go on. Go say hi to her first if she’s the girl you’ve been talking about.’
But you beat them to it. “Wow. I didn’t think you three knew each other!” you exclaim, skipping over to the dining corner where you find yourself in the gap between Sungchan and Seunghan. The two flinch at the closeness of your presence. Wonbin tightens his jaw. “Anyway, is Shotaro around? I need to talk to him about our trip this weekend, but he’s not replying.”
“He’s in his room. Upstairs. Fourth floor.” 
It’s not a competition, but hearing how quickly the response falls out of Wonbin’s lips sure does makes it seem like it is. Sungchan has his mouth open, gives Wonbin a look, before closing it again. Seunghan never even got the chance, and Sohee is looking at the scene unfold like it’s a goddamned trashy movie.
“Great, thanks!” you beam. “Oh, and we’re still up for dinner tonight, right?”
They can’t go for another speed contest because the question is reserved for one person only— Sungchan, who seems to be caught off guard. “Yeah. Absolutely,” he manages to squeeze out. You smile.
“Sweet. Wonbin, have you prepared the documents I asked for tomorrow’s meeting?”
It’s like a question carousel. “I’ll send them later for you to review.”
“Perfect! Right, and Seunghan—” There goes another rotation. “Mind driving me to the reunion this Friday? Jaeha bailed on me at the last minute, that son of a bitch.”
Seunghan blinks at you, in a daze. “Sure.”
“Nice! And you—”
Your attention lands on the last person at the table. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan didn’t expect you to even entertain him. “Sohee,” their friend fills in, a little taken aback. You flash him a bright grin.
“Sohee! Nice to meet you! Love your necklace. Very chic.”
For some reason the smile on Sohee’s face is annoying to the other three boys. “Thanks!” he says. “Have a nugget before you go.” They didn’t think it was possible, but somehow your face glows even brighter and you lean down, still between Seunghan and Sungchan, to pick up a piece from the box. 
“Thought you guys would never offer. Thank you! I’ll see you around!”
With that you disappear up the stairs, and you take all the noise and the life in the room with you. It’s quiet. So quiet— almost like there’s a standoff. That is until Sohee clears his throat, still pink from the compliment you gave him, and says, “Well. Seems like she’s the same person.” 
No fucking shit, she’s the same person. They can’t keep making excuses anymore. 
Seunghan tries to play it off with a laugh. “I can’t believe you guys would lie and joke about her having a crush on you.” His laugh isn’t well taken by the other two. It spirals down to shit all too quickly.
“What do you mean ‘lie’?” Wonbin narrows his eyes.
Sungchan hollers in. “Yeah, if anything, you’re the one that’s lying! You and him both!”
“Why would I lie?!” Seunghan protests.
“I don’t know— maybe because you’re jealous that she likes me and not either of you?”
Before they can start throwing fists, Sohee interrupts by making himself the collective target. “Have you guys considered,” he starts, hands solemnly pressed together above the crumb littered table. “That she might have a tinge of feelings for all three of you? Not just one?”
They pause in consideration. It takes them five seconds to brush him off.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“No way.”
“Why would she?”
Sohee sighs and gives up. He hears a set of footsteps rushing down and hopes it’s you, so that his three friends would finally quit it. It is you, and Sohee lifts up. Your timing is impeccable. He’s almost convinced you’ve been listening the whole time.
“Hey,” you greet them once again, flashing a smile once, before going off to retrieve your bag from the couch. The three quiet down instantaneously and have resigned to glaring at each other in seething silence. Seunghan isn’t very good at glaring at people, so he reorganizes his strategy instead.
“How’s the thing with Taro hyung?” he asks, twisting his chair to face you better. Sungchan and Wonbin give him a dirty look. That bastard. He’s even considering body language into play.
“Oh! The trip is canceled.” You sling your bag over your shoulder. “So my Sunday has been cleared. Do you guys want to make plans?”
Crap.
You just tossed them a bone.
Sohee is sure this isn’t gonna end pretty.
“Why don’t we go on a date?”
All eyes are wide. Their heads snap in the direction of Wonbin— the fast bastard. His expression is nonchalant, but his shaking knee from under the table says otherwise. “There’s a contemporary art exhibit opening downtown. Let’s check it out together,” This bitch, Sungchan’s expression seems to say. Seunghan’s disappointment seeps through the air.
“Like. A date, date?” you confirm, eyes batting expectantly, as if you have a barrier against the palpably sour and rotten mood flooding the room in ominous swirls.
“Yeah,” Wonbin confirms. He’s lucky you’re too far away to notice the sweat dripping down his neck. “Is...is that a problem? You said you liked me. Why don’t we give it a shot?”
All hell breaks loose the moment you entertain them with flustered cheeks and a shy smile.
“No! Don’t go!” Sungchan’s had it. He can’t take this anymore. “If there’s anyone you should be going out with, it should be me! You like me! Not them!”
Seunghan has left his seat and has scrambled over to you. Wonbin and Sungchan’s eyes widen. They aren’t letting him do this. They quickly follow suit but Seunghan already has a firm hold on your arms and is looking deep into your eyes. He’s put up an invisible barrier. Fuck, that sneaky bastard.
“Were you actually serious when you said that you had a crush on me since eleventh grade?” His voice cracks. If he’s trying to tap into your pity, then it’s definitely fucking working. “But why are these two saying you like them? What about us?! Am I nothing to y—”
Your index finger finds its way over Seunghan’s lips. Silence befalls. Your blank face settles into a sound smile.
“Well,” you pry Seunghan’s hands off you, still smiling pleasantly at all of them. What is this ominous feeling? Why doesn’t it seem like you’re actually smiling at them? “As far as I remember, none of you returned my confessions.”
It’s like a hammer hits all three of them at once.
“And I still like you Seunghan. We literally talked about it the other day.” You gave him a two word answer then brushed him off your essay. That was hardly a conversation. Seunghan feels wronged beyond words.
“How—how about me?”
You look over to Sungchan, who looks arguably like a kicked puppy. “What about you?”
“Well,” he clears his throat, a faint blush coating his ears. “Do you still, uh, have feelings for me too, or—”
“Sungchan, do you think I’d have kept asking you to have dinner alone with me every week if I didn’t like you?” He blinks. Beside him, Wonbin points a finger to himself. You let out a breath. “I’d be blind and tasteless if I wasn’t into you, Wonbin. Especially after working closely together since the beginning of the year. Why are you guys asking me this?”
Sohee has stopped liking all these ominous periods of silence because they’re signs that even more chaos is about to ensue. His three friends’ eyes look empty and hollow as they stare at you. Oh god, they’re far gone.
“So,” Wonbin starts.
“You like us,” Seunghan follows.
“Like all three of us,” Sungchan finishes. 
You give them a smile reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher feeling a swell of pride after her student finishes reciting the alphabet. Sohee feels sympathy pains for his friends. “Yup. I also have a crush on Johnny from med, but he’s graduating soon, so that’s a bummer. Oh! And our TA Jung Jaehyun! He has the face of a god!” Oh, dear. You stomp on them then finish it off with a spit on their faces. Sohee bites his lip, feeling both horrendously bad and curious as to how this shitshow will conclude. 
The three simmer in silence. You give them a raised brow.
“Why? Is there a problem?”
Oh, there’s a fucking problem, alright.
“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I did confess to all three of you saying I have a crush on you, but I never said I was in love with you.”
Well, damn.
Neither of them like you like that, but that shit hurt for no fucking reason.
“Don’t think too much of it, sillies! And I don’t get why you’re all so affected when you’re the ones who didn’t return my feelings.” 
Your laughter is poison and your smiling face is tearing them apart. You’re heartless. You’re a devil disguised as an angel. You’re from the deepest depths of hell and have come to earth for the sole reason of tooth-achingly sweet and strawberry scented torment. If they can fall to their knees right now, they would, but their pride is tattered enough already— ripped to shreds by your unapologetic bluntness and honesty.
“Anyway, since I already have plans with the three of you within the week, Sungchan’s later this evening—” The man in question is pouting. He’s pouting very hard when your eyes skip over him, and zones into the person that’s been quiet this entire time. “Sohee! Wanna go bowling with me and my bio friends this Sunday?”
That was a bomb. A large and dangerous bomb. “Sure?” Sohee responds unknowingly. You give them one last sweet smile of torture before finally leaving.
“Great! Get my number from any of them. I have to go meet some people. Later! Thanks for the snack!”
With that, you leave them behind, but not without a trace of disaster. Once they’ve confirmed you’re gone and out, signaved by the tight shutting of the door, Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan look at each other. Then at Sohee. Then back at the closed door once more.
It’s quiet again. They don’t need to talk to settle with three mutual conclusions.
One. Sohee isn’t getting shit after the emotional massacre they went through. He can go crawl and scavenger for your number elsewhere for all they care.
Two. There’s no doubt. They all know you and you all know them. This is something they can’t ignore anymore, so they have to figure out how to behave in case a run in like this happens again,
And three—
You like them. All three of them. At the same time. 
Their pride can’t stand the idea of sharing that affection. Absolutely not. Therefore three must drop down to one. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan are dead set on making sure that that one is going to be him.
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THREE'S A CROWD. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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thatacotargirl · 1 month
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Shadows and Surprises (3)
Part 3 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Enjoyyyy!
Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.
Warnings: vague mentions of family difficulties.
Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe
Y/N POV
You groaned as you dragged yourself from the bed, the knocking at your door more insistent now. You pulled the door open and gaped, seeing Azriel standing there behind it.
"Hi" he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and nervous.
"Hi" you replied, holding the door a little wider open, a silent offering for him to come into your apartment. He accepted, his wings tucked in tightly to avoid knocking into you or the doorframe as he walked into your living room. The room was a mess - you never had the time or energy to clean it these days. When you weren't working at the bookstore, you were sleeping away your nausea and indigestion. You knew growing a baby would be exhausting, but this surpassed all of your expectations.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" you joked, leaning against the sofa edge to support yourself. You hadn't expected Azriel to show up at your apartment. In fact, you hadn't expected to see him again. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad male and would deliberately want to shirk his responsibilities - but he was responsible for the safety of an entire Court, and a baby likely wasn't in his plans.
"We need to talk", was all he replied. You stared at him silently, encouraging him to go on.
"I don't know what I am doing. It's not that I never wanted children, I do, I just didn't expect to have any at this time in my life. But I want to be there. I want to be involved. I know what it feels like to have a broken family and feel like a burden, like you're unloveable, and I don't want my child to ever question if I love them". He had tears in his eyes, and you realised there was probably a lot of unspoken, unshared pain behind them that you might never know. But it was enough. You had your own pain that you hadn't shared with him, and you couldn't expect disclosure from him if you weren't willing to return the gesture. Not yet.
You reached out to touch his arm in comfort and, much to your surprise, Azriel caught your arm before you could reach him and pulled you into his chest. You nuzzled in and he rested his head on top of yours, a deep sigh sounding in the otherwise silent room.
"We will need to plan logistics", he said into your hair, ever the pragmatist.
"Yes Mr Spymaster, we can plan logistics", you chuckle back.
"I'm serious", he says, pulling away to look at you. He scans your body from head to toe, and you realise he is surveying you. Taking an inventory. "I can see how tired you are, are you not sleeping? You know it's not good for the baby if you're not resting, right?".
You laugh, your heart warm at the fact that Azriel was suddenly so concerned for yours and the baby's welfare.
"Az, it's hard to sleep when you single-handedly run a business and a home", you gesture around yourself at the piles of dirty dishes, laundry, the thick layer of dust on the broken fireplace. Azriel's eyes followed yours, and you suddenly felt ashamed. Your apartment was far from perfect. Your landlord was quite the absentee, so your broken fire place had gone unfixed for several winters now. As had the poorly insulated windows, the kitchen sink tap which sometimes decided to spray you down when you turned it on, and the mould forming around the edges of the bathroom floor. Whilst your bookstore was successful, life in Velaris was still expensive, and you couldn't really afford much better.
"Then you move in with me", he said. You simply gaped.
"In your own room, of course", he added quickly. "You will have your own room and your own space".
"Az, I couldn't ask you to do that" you replied, pulling out of his embrace.
"You're not asking. I am insisting. I don't fancy showing up here one day and finding you rabid from a rat bite", you notice him glance over to a hole in the skirting board of your kitchen.
"It's not a rat, it's a mouse, her name is Daisy and she would never bite me", you retort. Admittedly, you didn't like sharing your living space with Daisy, even if you were somewhat confident that she wouldn't bite you. Somewhat.
Azriel only chuckled. "I insist", I will ask Rhys and Cassian to come and help move your belongings over to the House of Wind".
Rhys, Cassian, House of Wind. You were moving into the centre of the Night Court. Azriel felt your shiver.
"Don't worry, only Cassian and I live there. He will dote over you more than I will - he will carry you everywhere if you ask".
Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed. Commander of the Night Court armies.
Azriel could see the uncertainty in your face and pulled you back to his chest. "Relax, they are just normal people, I promise they will love you. Mor will be so happy to finally have another female in her presence she probably won't leave you alone."
"Mor?" you asked.
"Rhys' cousin and third in command" he replied. You could sense from his tense stance that there was some history there, but decided now wasn't the time to broach it.
"Ok", you sighed, "when do we make this happen?".
Azriel smiled. "Now".
Azriel's POV
After reaching out to Rhys, Azriel took y/n's hand and let her lead him to her bedroom to start packing. It was only about 10 minutes later that another knock sounded at the door, and Azriel opened it to see Rhysand and Cassian beaming behind. They both walked into the apartment.
"A new chapter, brother" Cassian said, pulling Azriel into a hug. Rhysand smiled as he watched them, giving Azriel a hearty pat on the shoulder. They both turned to the door of y/n's bedroom as they watched her appear, shyly holding a box of her belongings. Cassian was the first to approach her, giving her a huge smile and taking the box from her hands. Azriel noticed that Cassian's smile only grew wider when he looked down to y/n's stomach and saw the small swelling.
"Welcome to the family, y/n" he said, putting the box on the floor and offering his arms out to her. She stepped forward slowly into them, but seemed to warm into his embrace. He could almost feel her relief. Rhysand stepped forward, careful not to appear intimidating. Whilst Rhys had the kindest soul Azriel had known, his power was palpable, and capable of intimidating just about anyone. He saw y/n peer past Cassian at Rhys, who simply offered his hand to her. She accepted as Rhys brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of her fist.
"It is an honour to meet you, y/n", he said. Y/n blushed so deeply he had to withhold a laugh. Y/n mumbled something quite incoherent in response, which earned her a chuckle from Rhys.
"Let's get moving, shall we?", Cassian called out, holding onto the first of y/n's boxes and flying off towards the House of Wind.
-
It took a few hours, but eventually all of y/n's belongings had been moved into her new bedroom. Azriel watched as y/n took in the room. He had picked a room a few doors down from his, to give y/n her privacy, but to be close enough in case she needed anything. Cassian's room was a few doors the other way, so she was sandwiched between the pair of them. Azriel hoped that that way, if anything happened, one of them would be there to help.
"You are welcome to change the room however you wish", Rhys said, appearing in the doorframe. "Paint it, change the furniture, whatever you want - this is your room and you can do with it as you like".
"Thank you", y/n replied, breathless in wonder. The bedroom was almost the size of her entire apartment had been, and Az could see that she was starting to feel overwhelmed. He silently gestured for his brother to leave them and walked to y/n's side.
"Are you ok?", he asked.
"Yes", y/n replied, "just a bit shocked at how this day has turned out. It's certainly not what I expected. Who knew how much could change over an indigestion tonic". She laughed, but it sounded more hollow than normal.
"I'm sorry", Azriel said, his hand rubbing circles on y/n's back.
"What for?".
"I don't know. I just felt like a sorry was warranted right now".
"You're daft".
Azriel shook his head, hiding a smile that had crept onto his face. No wonder he had been enamoured with you that night. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by him. Who spoke your mind to him. He appreciated it more than he would tell you.
"Mor and Amren are joining us for a family dinner tonight, but you don't need to come if you are feeling tired or not up for it. They will all understand and we can have your food brought up here".
Y/n looked up at him and gave him a small, watery smile.
"I think I would like that", she replied. Azriel couldn't hid his smile in response.
"Great, dinner is at 7, I'll leave you to have a rest now and come and get you to take you down to the dining room just before". With that, he departed, closing the bedroom door behind him.
Y/N's POV
I think I would like that.
WHAT.
You didn’t know what had come over you. Of course you wanted to meet Azriel’s family, eventually. But most females are wined and dined before being introduced to a male’s family. Then again, most females are wined and dined before having a male’s baby, so if anything, you were at least consistent.
Your new home was nothing short of show-stoppingly beautiful. Your bedroom, which was fit for a queen, followed a pearlescent theme, with light marble furniture. The walls, which were a shade of muted light gold, rivalled any room you had lived in before. Rhys’ offer to re-design the room was kind, but you’d be crazy to want to change a single thing. The bed, clearly designed for Illyrian wings, would fit 5 of you with space, and had the softest duvet you could imagine. It felt like stroking a cloud. You felt a momentary panic that you had, in fact, fallen asleep when you had intended to nap - and dreamt this entire encounter. You pinched yourself hard and yelped. No, this was very real. You hopped into the bed, and sleep took you immediately.
-
A soft knock at your door had you leaning up on your shoulders. You took a moment to remember your surroundings.
“Come in”, you called.
Azriel walked into the room and you had to force your jaw not to drop open. Clad in his Illyrian leathers, he looked devastating.
“It’s almost time for dinner, are you sure you’d like to join?”, he asked, taking in your bed hair.
“Yes, yes, sorry just a minute!”, you jumped from the bed and ran in front of the vanity mirror, smoothing down the knots that had formed from your tossing and turning. Azriel chuckled and walked over to you, reaching out to untangle a knot that had formed by the back of your neck. You froze as his hands brushed against you, gently pulling the hair free. When you looked presentable, you turned to face him and took a deep breath.
“You ready?”, he asked.
“Ready”.
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onestopfanficshop · 2 years
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a fish with a bowtie
a simon "ghost" riley x reader blurb part two here!
no shock that i have fallen for yet another tall, muscular masked man. nothing new here! 😭
warnings/author's note: it feels so good to actually be able to write again omg. i included a very poorly drawn floor plan of the house in my head so you can visualize it better- nothing worse than not being able to see a story in your head! just some language and unreasonable amounts of fluff. your call sign is sparrow. simon being simon. gif not mine
word cound: 2100
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"If any of you get boot prints on my tile, I swear to God…" you threaten weakly, kicking your shoes off at the door. The team knew better than to argue. You had saved their asses back at the warehouse breach–and unfortunately, you also took the brunt of the damage. Your head was throbbing, and your legs threatened to give out at any moment beneath you. The team had been successful with your help, but the attack was loud. They figured they'd lie low for a couple of days and let the smoke clear, but they needed a safe house. You debated it for a second before reluctantly telling the boys that you knew a place.
Unluckily for you, that place was your house.
The team silently marveled at your home. It seemed to be a perfect reflection of you but also not at the same time. For someone that claimed to be no frills, your couch sure did look fancy. But your collection of vinyls matched up with all the music recommendations you'd give them between missions. Soap geeked out over the movie posters you had framed around the living room, and Price squinted at your coffee table decor. He never took you for a candle person.
"Is that an original Back to the Future poster?" Soap asked in awe. 
"Mhm…" you mumble distantly, racking the fridge for food. You zone out on the bright lights of the fridge for a second before letting out a grim chuckle. Of course there was no food. You were barely ever in this house– if you kept food in the fridge, it would all go rotten. Seriously, how fucked up was your brain right now?
You decided to search for the pantry next. It was mostly empty, save for a few spices and boxes of tea here or there. Your eyes searched the shelves until you found what you were looking for: exactly five bowls of nearly expired Hot-and-Spicy ramen soup, which was just enough for you, Soap, Price, Gav, and Ghost. You thanked whatever higher power might exist out there as you stacked the bowls on top of each other, carrying them close to your chest to avoid dropping them.
"I have the finest delicacy here for you, boys," you say humorously. "Three Michelin stars,” you continue, earning a laugh from Soap and Gaz. You set the bowls down on the kitchen island, keeping one for yourself. You tear open the lid and untwist a water bottle cap, pouring the water up to the ridged line inside the bowl. After you poured the tiny packet of dehydrated vegetables and chicken, you stick it into the microwave and lean cross-armed on the kitchen island, waiting for the three minutes to pass. The rest dutifully follow your lead, taking turns with the microwave built into your kitchen and the other one that was plugged in on the counter. 
"Dinner" was eaten in relative silence. Not that anyone could hear anything anyways (you really needed to tell Soap to go easy on the frags before you all went deaf). You were too busy eating your soup to notice the team sneaking glances at each other and then at you, Ghost most of all.
After you all ate, you pointed everyone to their rooms. Soap went straight away, which is how you could tell he was really exhausted. Price and Gaz sat on the couch debriefing for a while before they headed to bed, too. Only you and Ghost were left. You were lying on the couch, half-tuned in to some old-time game show on the TV. Ghost sat on the loveseat to the right of you, polishing his gun and sneaking occasional glances at the TV—and at you. 
“Shit,” you exclaimed suddenly. Ghost halted his movements, watching as you got up to a sitting position, closing your eyes.
“What is it?” he asked you quietly, finger moving instinctively to the trigger.
“No, I’m fine. I just… I just remembered I have to wash my hair. It’ll be a fucking miracle if I don’t collapse in the shower,” you sighed. “It’s a whole process, and it’s gonna take forever, and it’s already late… I’d better start now,” you finish, rubbing your eyes.
Ghost sat for a moment, contemplating what you said.
“I’ll do it for you.”
“What?”
“I mean—only if you want. I could. Over the sink or... something.” It’s the first time you ever heard Ghost sound unsure of himself, and it completely threw you off.
“Are you... sure?” you ask, staring at him.
“Positive,” he replied, staring back.
“Okay… I’ll be right back,” you say, moving towards the stairs. Once you were in your bathroom, you grabbed everything you would need: a towel, shampoo, conditioner, and your beloved shampoo brush.
When you got back downstairs, you found Ghost ungloved and running water in the sink, absentmindedly touching his fingers to the stream of water as his eyes were fixed on the TV. It occurred to you that he was making sure the temperature of the water would be okay for you. You weren’t entirely sure why your stomach got light at the sight of it, but you stubbornly decided to ignore it.
“You ready?” he asked, eyeing all the stuff you were carrying. 
“Mhm,” you say, setting everything down on the counter. “I’ll just lie like this over the sink to make it easier for you,” you tell him, lying down and pulling your knees up on the unusually long kitchen island. The size of the island had been something that drew you to the house when you were house shopping, even though you weren’t home enough to cook on it.
“Is that a torture device?” Ghost said, jutting his chin at the shampoo brush sitting on the counter as he got your hair wet.
You laugh for the first time all day when your eyes land on what he’s gesturing at. “Far from it. You kinda just use it to get the shampoo into my scalp. Probably my favorite invention.”
“Your favourite invention?” Ghost repeated to you.
“Yeah. What’s yours?” you ask him. 
He’s silent for a minute as he squeezes the shampoo onto your hair and works it into a lather.
“Electric kettle,” he responds finally.
“You Brits and your tea,” you say fondly, laughing to yourself. Ghost let out a sound, and it took you a second before you realized he chuckled. He laughed. You had never heard him laugh before. You decided you liked the sound.
“What’s your favorite kind of tea, Ghost?” you ask, closing your eyes. He had started using the shampoo brush, and it felt like heaven. You could feel the grime and dried blood dislodging from your scalp; you didn’t even want to see what the sink looked like right now.
“Black tea, maybe earl gray. But I’m not picky,” he shrugged. His eyes narrowed at the nape of your neck where he saw a thin line of blood. 
“You have an interesting cut back here, Sparrow.” He started rinsing out the shampoo as he carefully moved your hair aside to examine it further.
“Well, shit,” you say, sighing louder than necessary. “How bad is it? Is it stitch-worthy? Am I gonna make it?” you ask sarcastically.
“No stitches. You’ll live. Unfortunately,” Ghost deadpans. You roll your eyes at him just as you notice his hands aren’t in your hair anymore. You turn your head to see him squinting at the conditioner bottle.
“The hell is this for?” he asked.
“The conditioner?” you replied incredulously. 
“I know what it is, it’s just—why is it separate?” 
You squint your eyes in thought, trying to understand what he meant when it suddenly clicked.
“Simon…” you say, a wicked grin spreading on your face as you move up to a sitting position, carful not to drip water everywhere. His eyes shot down to look at you. That got his attention. You almost never called him by his actual name. “Please don’t tell me you use it.”
“Use what?” Ghost pressed, getting mildly annoyed. Oh, how he wanted to wipe that stupidly adorable annoying smile off your face. He hated not being in on a joke, even if he rarely showed it.
“On today’s true crime episode,” you say, grabbing the conditioner bottle out of his hands to use as a makeshift microphone. He crosses his arms at your antics, seeming oblivious to the fact that he was getting water and eucalyptus-scented suds all over the arms of his uniform.
“We’re looking at one of the most prolific criminals out there, Lieutenant Ghost. It’s terrifying, it’s horrifying, it's downright disturbing. What are his crimes ,you ask? Using two-in-one… shampoo and conditioner,” you finish, lowering your voice for dramatic effect.
“Fucking hell,” Ghost rasps, voice tinged with exasperation. “Am I not supposed to?”
“No!” you whisper-shout, mindful of your sleeping teammates. “Shampoo strips all the oils from your hair and conditioner puts moisture back in! How could one product do that simultaneously? I mean, seriously, Ghost,” you say, squeezing a generous amount into the palm of your hand before smoothing it over your strands. “It’s common sense.”
“It’s not common sense. Tedious and unnecessary is what it is,” he replies gruffly, watching you put the conditioner on. “So what, you just–put it on, and… leave it there?”
“Yeah… I usually leave it in for 15 minutes while I do other stuff but I’ll just let it sit for a couple minutes since I’m-” you pause, yawning. “Tired.”
“Do you want me to wash it out for you?” he asks, his voice going unusually soft.
“Yes, please,” you responded, lying back down so your hair was over the edge of the sink again. 
His fingers thread through your hair, ridding it of the last traces of conditioner. You force your eyes closed, trying not to think about the fact that Ghost’s face was mere inches away from yours. You felt something cold brush by your face, and your eyes shoot open to see the gleam of his dog tags dangling over you.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, tucking them back into his uniform like it was nothing.
Like it didn’t just get your heart caught in your throat.
You can feel his hands wringing out the water in your hair, strong enough to get your hair dry but not strong enough to hurt you. In a final act of pure kindness, he takes the towel sprawled out on the counter and throws it over your head.
“Done,” he says nonchalantly, ignoring your muffled protests from under the towel. When you finally get the towel off and tie it around your hair, you see him standing by the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall and watching you intently. Suddenly shy, you pull a stray blanket off of one of the chairs at the island and wrap yourself in it as makeshift armor from his icy gaze.
“You going to bed?” he asks as you walk up. You spin on your heel to look back down at where he’s still standing, arms crossed.
“No. I was actually just about to go for a six mile run,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes. “You should go to sleep too, Ghost. I could see your beady little eyes fighting to stay open at the dinner table.”
“My eyes are not beady.”
“Whatever. I’m going to bed. You can stay up until my neighbor's rooster Fish starts crowing if you like,” you say, fighting off another yawn.
“Your neighbor has a rooster named Fish?” he asks, amusement tinting his voice as he starts up the steps after you.
“Mr. Stricker is a strange man,” you reply. You’re met with a few seconds of silence as Ghost catches up to you.
“What do you call a fish wearing a bow tie?” he questions.
“Oh God.”
“Sofishticated,” he continues, not missing a beat. You were not expecting the laugh that erupts from your lips, and you clamp a hand over your mouth, wary of the rest of the team sleeping right above you. 
“That was so not funny,” you say, clearing your throat in a poor attempt to cover up your smile.
“Mhm. And yet you laughed,” Ghost replied. Even in the dim light, you can spot the glint in his eyes. You’d like to think that under his mask, he was smiling too. 
He fell into step with you now, his hands brushing against yours as you two made it up the rest of the stairs. There was plenty of room for both of you to walk without touching each other, but you didn’t pull your hand away.
Neither did he.
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muntitled · 7 months
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𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐚
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Pairings: Jaemin Na x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Jaemin Na, the dashing yet ambitious magnate, is tired of playing the toll as a silent stakeholder. He wants your father's business. He wants the whole thing, even if it means seducing the boss's daughter to get it.
Warning: Business Rivals to Fwb to lovers, Toxic Family Relationship, Violence, Business politics, Businessman AU, Forbidden Relationship, Slight Angst, Male Manipulation, Manipulation tactics, Smut (+18) Minors dni, Daddy Kink, Degradation Kink, Rough Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Ownership Kink, DDLG, Fingering, Spitting, Marking, Bruises, Grinding, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex.
A/N: My third NCT Dream fic! They're truly my favorite group, so I plan on writing more for them. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this. Excuse me while I project my daddy kink onto Jaemin. Im sorry, but my bias fuels it way too much. You all saw that live, right?... THAT one live. Iykyk. Anyway, he's so daddy coded, okay bye.
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The moon is high, and the night is deep when you find yourself quite literally being paraded around a bustling open reception. Goldleaf and tinsel wrap around the off-white columns, veneering the room in a deep but faintly expensive sepia tone. Despite the hatred festering in your bones, you did have to admit that the clubhouse in the very center of a highly competitive Country Club did make for a good party reception indeed. Nestling all of 100 dapper guests, 100 partners, wives and mistresses, and 100 wallets, to sink their wrinkled hands into.
Your father did know how to throw a party, you'd certainly give the man that. That is all you give him, however. That is all the grace he deserves.
Despite the tempest of emotions in your veins, the laughter you emit to the group surrounding the small appetizer's table is static and robotic, and anything but genuine. It pitters politely out of your lips as you raise the flute of shampagne, hoping to disguise just how fucking annoyed you actually were.
"You'll do well to remember the name," your father proclaims before laying a hand on your back as he pushes you closer into the circle of suited men - a lamb to the proverbial slaughter.
"She's going to be running things once I retire," a Jazz number played by a live band is not enough to drown out the influx of chatter that spreads throughout the main hall of the Clubhouse at the news of your father's retirement. You could practically here the thinning lips salivate at the very sound of it: The emperor, stepping down, leaving his empire vulnerable to the raiders.
"I feel proud and so unbelievably lucky to have such a reliable line of succession." Says your father, "When I'm six foot under, I'll know that Neo Tech is safe in her hands-"
A snicker escapes, likely concocted by the decent amount of alcohol in your blood, "Although that time isn't coming soon enough!" Your statement allows for a grand chuckle to fall across the table where you all stood, nursing your deviled eggs and bacon-wrapped asparagus.
The display is that of good-natured jest between a father and daughter to the guests around you, clad in ambercrombie suits and Alexander Mcqueen gowns.
Your father, however, slithers a hand onto your shoulder, squeezing all too hard as he laughs statically.
You can feel the warning in his calloused grip. A stern threat...
Not too much, it cautioned.
The action, though seemingly innocent and fleeting to the rest of the table, draws the attention of a man whose countenance had been sparse and dismisive the entire evening. Despite this being a private gathering for your father's most trusted stakeholders and their partners, Jaemin had been far from interested in attending.
Once, he was made privy to the knowledge that this was a retirement celebration, however... that changed things, and Jaemin threw on his jet black Armani blazer over a silky unisex blouse that stretched across his chest.
He admits that he made his attendance out of greed. Having to save face and play the roll of the responsibile stakeholder before he was truly able to pillage your father's company right from underneath him. If that meant entertaining the degenerate conversation of greying white men with viagra prescriptions and a cocaine addiction, then so be it.
"It truly is a shame that I have to take something from someone as promising as yourself." He whispers to himself over the rim of his own champagne flute, his darkened eyes stationed on you. It was difficult not to stare, when you were being hounded by business associates, men and women alike, eager to ascertain how they might win the hand of the queen.
A silk gown drips like the liquidfied night sky down your curves, spilling on the floor around what Jaemin imagined to be ample, soft thighs - something he could sink his fingers into, sink his teeth into-
You're chuckling very fakely at something an investor said at a round cocktail table nearby. Although what really gets Jaemin's blood rushing through his arteries is the sight of your father dragging you away from the main hall, up a spiraling stair case. Jaemin prided himself on minding his business. This came second nature to him.
What he could not ignore, however, was the slight alarm, marring the scowl along your soft face. Nothing could spoil your perfect makeup, but the frown he caught a glimpse of before you disappeared was enough.
Jaemin almost immediately found his Hilfiger loafers leading him down the path you had just walked. He downed the golden liquid in his flute and, never breaking eye contact from the spiral staircase, placed the glass on the tray of a mobile waiter. He wiped the access champagne off his lips, quite barbarically, with the sleeves of his blazer as he emerged into the main foyer.
Immediately, a hiss of conversation could be heard from the mezzanine above.
"-the hands of the company! Do you understand how important this is?! How fucking ungrateful you are-"
"Not to interrupt," Jaemin speaks, slyly climbing the stairs as he stuffed his hand into the pocket of his dress pants. The look your father thows him is absolutely villanizing.
Instead of shying away, however, you swallow thickly to note a slow sick sort of smirk curling onto Jaemin's face.
"Who the fuck are you?" Instead of sparing your father any look at all, Jaemin's gaze is solidified on your father's violent grip on your forearm.
"You don't know who he is?" You ask your father, marginally shocked but not at all surprised as Jaemin neared the two of you.
"That's okay, that's okay," he says, letting the gleaming smirk stay solid across his face, "My father sends his greetings, by the way" Jaemin says, "I didn't wish for our 45% share not to be represented at such a monumental event."
Therein lies the very first signs of embarrassment around your father's face. He begrudgingly removes his grip from your forearm but does not leave before he quickly tacks on, "Excuse me, Mr Na, but this is a private conversation -"
Jaemin is already lifting his hand, his Rolex gleaming under the crystal chandelier as he casually says, "Important enough to miss an audience with your shareholders? Everyone is asking for you, big man." Jaemin replies smoothly, "You are still the boss, right?"
Then, and only then does Jaemin exchange the very first real bit if eye contact with you tnh entire evening, and God strike you dead if it did not release an influx of warm, sputtering butterflies with molten wings in the pit of your stomach. You're still glidd to his side. The successor cradled tightly to her Daddy's arm.
"We'll finish this later," Your father hisses in your ear before stepping back and giving Jaemin one final nod. His disappearance births an uncomfortable heat and even more uncomfortable silence in the mezzanine. Jaemin does nothing but watch you with a tilted head and a near constant smirk.
"Hi." He says cheekily, all of the seriousness in his voice gone as he begins to move closer to you. You only roll your eyes before turning around to scour for a free room in the clubhouse. He follows cooly and calmly.
"Stop staring at my ass," you chide, pushing open a heavy door before switching on the light.
"Nah," Jaemin follows you inside. "Don't tell me what to do,"
He turns to peer down the corridor with one raised eyebrow before effectively sealing the door shut. You had led the both of you into one of the very many guest suites peppered across the Clubhouse. Jaemin is remarkably pleased to notice how your inhibitions immediately melt away. Your shoulders relax as you kick off your red bottomed heels, letting them land lazily in a corner.
"You haven't told him have you?" His voice is stable but rumbles like a heavy cloud throughout the room.
You evade eye contact as you quickly walk up to him, beginning to splay tiny kisses around his exposed neck.
"No, Jaemin," Your breathe fans across his exposed skin as you undo thr little bow of the silk blouse, "I did not tell my father about your plans to rape his company," You push down his blazer and he lets you. Watching you with a piercing glare as a deep, warm, pool of lust begins to grow in your core at the very sight of how big he truly is.
"Would you rather he find out on the day?" He asks, still letting you undress him as if he was a lifeless piece of him. "I know you're evil but that evil-"
"Fuck, you're so hot," Jaemin's cock stirs, as it always did, when that needy sort of whine pushed itself out the confines of your throat. You knew what buttons to push, to get the reaction you wanted. Tonight, however, would prove to be a much different occasion.
"How long do you plan on waiting?" You're nails are dragging itself down the front of his muscled body. Before you can reach his cock, already causing a bulge in his dress pants, Jaemin roughly grabs at your wrist.
"I said. How long do you plan on waiting?" Despite the calmness in his voice, Jaemin's grip on your wrist is unrelenting. It is rough, and it is violent, and it makes your father's earlier grip on your forearm feel like a child's play.
"Fucking forever, Jaemin! Jesus!" You burst in a flurry of rage and lust and frustration. "I will wait until forever it means I won't get outed as a shit daughter and a fucking rat, Jaemin!"
He tilts his head as he smiles and cooly says, "Watch that tone."
But he's already got you going, and you're finally letting out the feelings that had only been building for the duration of an entire, hellish evening. "Can you even begin to understand how I feel?! I know you want this company, but -"
"But?" Jaemin asks in a sing-song voice before pulling you closer by your wrist. He dips his head down, folding his tall frame over as he tilts your head up. "There shouldn't be a but, baby." The words are veneered in a lustful whisper as he finally places his lips to your throat.
"With me, it's either all or nothing." Now it's Jaemin's turn to slowly drag his hands up the side of your curves. He lets the tips of his fingers tease the fabric as he smoothes his hand over your chest. Your resolve explodes, and you melt right into him, as his hand makes its way up your throat. His palm enclosing the spot where his lips have just been.
"I hate seeing you like that, baby. I hate seeing you glued to his side when you should be glued to mine."
You're faintly aware that you're both mobile now. Not knowing which way is up and which is down as your back presses against a wall.
"He's..." you swallow thickly as Jaemin slips down the soft fabric of your dress. Your exposed shoulder is immediately assaulted by his reign of wet and drunken kisses.
As he tongues at the skin, Jaemin makes sure to look up at you. Siren eyes under thick eyebrows as he pushes the fabric all the way down until your dress is pooling at your feet and you're left in nothing but your Fenty underwear.
"He's family." You applaud yourself mentally for having the brain capacity to formulate all of two words. That celebration, however, immediately falls short when Jaemin snickers. He pulls back, turning his head slightly as his tongue stabs the inside of his mouth before swinging his head back to you.
"You always tell me you only have one, Daddy, don't you?"
A deep, angry heat blossoms around your skin as you evade eye contact. "Jesus, Jaemin."
"Jaemin?" He mocks, before pushing you back further onto wall.
"Is that who I am to you?"
"That is your name, yes." Your confidence waver when his hands begin to push down the straps of bra. He undoes the clasps as he says, "Interesting. So then, i guess, my name wasnt Jaemin, when i fucked you on a nalcony in Mykonos? Got it."
He's quick to push your panties down far enough so that he's forcing his fingers between your legs. The gasp you emit is almost painful as you immediately buck your hips into his hand. “Fuck-”
“You cum on my hand, correct?”
“F-Fuck,” he lets you hump lazily into his palm and you all but whimper as your begin to yearn for him to fuck you with his long digits.
“You cum on my hand. You cum on my cock. Only I can do that for you, baby”
“God, yes, Daddy.”
Jaemin has to physically stop himself from not pulling his pants down and fucking your brains right right and there. Those words leaving your mouth did something animalistic to him- scratching a very archaic part of his monkey brain that let him know that you needed him. You needed him to reach orgasm, you needed him to fuck you to feel good. You needed him.
“You don't need anyone else, but me, right baby?”
You're so dangerously close to the edge, your vision blurring with your oncoming orgasm as you reply, “You, Daddy- only you.”
His cock is pushing painfully against dress pants and Jaemin swear as he pulls his blouse over his head. Your breathing grows even more precipitous when you see his torso in all its big and gleaming glory.
“need you so bad,” you mumble, still pushing your hips out even though his hand has disappeared and there's nothing there.
“Yeah?” He asks, pulling his cock out without breaking eye contact, “You need Daddy’s cock, don't you, sweetheart?”
“I need it,” you whisper and watch as your words affect him in ways you had not seen before.
Jaemin’s eyes are blown into saucers while the tips of his brown hair is drenched in sweat. Gone is the cockiness. Gone is the smirk. He only brings a cupped hand up to your mouth as he orders you to, “Spit.”
Almost without thinking about it, you do just that, and Jaemin watches with an open mouth as he begins to stroke his himself with your wetness. He throws his head back in a broken amalgamation of a moan and a gasp, and you're only left to watch while your hand almost subconsciously moves down your own body.
The sound of your wetness brings Jaemin back to the mission at hand as he lolls his head forward. The sight of you fucking yourself, knuckles deep, as your eyes zero in on his hand, has him immediately pushing you against the wall.
“You're such a fucking slut-” He hisses and you moan as he pulls your hand up to his mouth. “Did Daddy teach you to be a slut?” and when you fail to respond he only says, “Answer me,” he says cooly, “Did I teach you to be a slut, or a good girl?”
You have truly reached a stalemate. Not knowing what to say that might garner a favourable response. Dread pools in your tummy and Jaemin only watches as go to war with yourself. The conflict in your eye is present and raw.
All is quiet as Jaemin bends down slowly and that signature smirk curls at the end of his lips.
“Cute.” He whispers before crashing his lips against yours.
Your hands enclose around the back of Jaemin's hand as he effortlessly picks you up off the ground, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. He pushes you up against the wall and the immediate contact of your dripping pussy pressed against his skin has you both moaning and groaning into the kiss.
“So fucking cute...” He whispers before easing his cock right into you, “You're so fucking tight- fuck-” the wind sounds like it has been knocked clean out of him as he begins to fuck you with harsh, violent thrusts.
“That's it, pretty girl,”
You can hear the smile in his voice and you fight to open your eyes. If there was one thing that got you even wetter it was the sight of Jaemin just managing a lazy open-mouth smile as he forced his cock into your cunt. It stings and hurts but the pleasure in his hooded eyes make the experience all the more worth it.
Jaemin clenches his jaw together as he leans down until you're both forehead to forehead.
“That man downstairs isn't your Daddy, is he?” His eyes dare you to disagree with him but all you do us shake your head as you say, “You. You're my Da- oh God.”
“I'll take that title too,” he chuckles before pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he sped up his pace. Jaemin fucks hard and rough and you claw mindlessly at his back. He loves it. You know he does because his cock is twitching inside of you and you know he's close.
“Fuck-Daddy, please!”
Your begging nearly sends him over the edge but he still manages to keep his thrusts hard and unrelenting. “You gonna cum for me, Princess?”
“F-Fuck yes, Sir-”
“You're not gonna keep me a secret, are you? Promise me. ” You knew what he was doing, forcing you into a mental state of complete disrepair as he bullied his cock into your cunt.
“F-Fuck," he hisses, "Answer me, baby- ‘mgonna fill your cunt so fucking fast,” he breathes out, before throwing his head back again.
“Promise!” You grit out, “I promise-” almost immediately, your orgasm washes over you eliciting wave after wave of delicious pleasure that has your mind rumbling.
“F-Fuck you're so tight- Fuck, Fuck, fuck-!” He exclaims before he's emptying himself inside of you. He's fucking you with the stamina of a caveman as he forces his seed all the way inside. “God you're so sexy, you know that?” He says, with his eyes still clenched shut as his aftershocks pass through his body. “So fucking hot.”
While his mind soars on the wings of his orgasm, that post nut clarit crashes through gradually. You breathe out steadily as you stare into nothingness. “I can't believe I gave our family company away like that,”
A hand is quick to pull you by the chin until you're looking up at him. Even with his wet and matted hair, along with the beads of sweat growing pregnant on his brow, Jaemin remains ever handsome. His smile ever present.
“It's still the family business, Honey.” Jaemin smirks, “Our family.”
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♡♡♡ if you made it this far, thanks for reading
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luveline · 7 months
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hiiii jade! i absolutely adore your writing, and when i saw you might be taking blurb requests i had to jump on it lol
can i request maybe a little blurb where reader goes to pick up her bf remus at the airport after a long time apart/being long distance for several months?
i hope thats not too specific, and please feel free to ignore it if it doesn't inspire you!
thanks gorgeous!
You might have worried that a long separation would make things fall apart. Remus would want things you couldn't offer over the phone, or he'd find someone at his university that was more interesting, but one conversation kept you going, one confession. 
If you can't do it, I won't go, he'd said. 
You hadn't known what he meant at first, still mulling over the idea of his being away for so long. What?
It wasn't fathomable. It was everything he'd ever worked toward, the peak of his career, the culmination of all his successes. You honestly thought before he said it that you wouldn't have a choice. Either you had to make it work for you or he'd leave you to live his life. 
But no. If it means we won't last, I won't go, he'd clarified, looking you in the eye, his lips hooked into one of his fond smiles. You're more to me than any of it. If we can't stretch the distance, I'll stay home. I'm happy to stay home. 
Obviously, he had to go. But it's a lot to know you're loved like that, so deeply he'd give up everything he worked for just to keep you. You'd never make him choose, and hence began the longest, most heart-breaking five months of your life. Every time you were supposed to visit him plans fell through. Each time he tried to come back there were things to do. But you know he got on his plane home, and you're pretty sure you know which escalator he's going to come down. You wait at the bottom of it, waiting, waiting. You start to worry he's somewhere else. 
"You come here often?" a warm voice asks from beside you. 
You flinch. "That's not funny!" you hiss, but then you get a good look at him and have to fight to stave off tears. Remus stands next to you, suitcase to his left, backpack weighing down his shoulders. He looks tired, but excitement lightens his eyes. 
Five months you will never, ever get back, and Remus is still so handsome. 
"Dove," he says. You almost forgot how he says it, like it's yours alone to be called. "Lovely, come here." 
You step into his arms: too much, too rough, almost chinning him as he grabs you. "Remus," you say in a gasp, startled as he bends back under your weight and your heels rise off of the floor. "Don't! Don't do that, I'm gonna crush you." 
He sets you back down carefully, but he doesn't say much, and he certainly doesn't let you go. You don't notice his quiet at first. You're too busy being selfish, soaking in the realness of his arms, the rigidity of his biceps and his forearms wrapped around you. 
"Was your flight okay?" you ask, tipping your head back. 
"It was fine." A silver shine of tears nestles between his soft lashes. "It felt long." 
"Don't cry," you say, again startled. "Remus, don't be upset. I'll start crying too and then we'll be that couple who cries on each other at the airport." 
He smiles and a tear rolls down his cheek. "I missed you. What was I thinking? What was I," —he scrubs at his eyes roughly— "thinking, I could be away from you that long?" 
You wipe his eyes much more gently. "I love you." 
"I love you too," he says, leaning down for a kiss. 
Your first kiss in five months has a lot to live upto. You'd been the one crying as you said goodbye at the airport, and Remus had left you with a kiss to remember, firm and sweet with his hands on either side of your face, as if to say, everything will be alright. 
You have to do the reassuring now. You weave your fingers into the soft mop of his sandy brown hair, his gentle curls, brushing them away from his cheek as you kiss him. It's definitely too open of a kiss for a public place and you're both prone to shyness, so after a few stolen seconds of heat you break the kiss to hide your face in his collar. 
"Please don't go away again." 
Remus laughs and sniffles. "No. I don't think I'd survive it." 
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originalaccountname · 10 months
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Mori Ougai’s belief as the boss is [...] “The boss stands on top of the organization, and at the same time, be the slave of all.” For the sake of the organization, the boss must always take the “logical optimal solution.” That is the duty of the boss. [...] “Therefore, no matter how much your heart aches, you have to ignore your personal feelings.”
Kafka Asagiri, for the BSD exhibition
On Mori and regret.
This man acts based on his perceived "optimal solution". It means relying on cold logic, detached from (his own and others') emotions. In that way, he fits right in as one of the smart characters of BSD, contrasting for example Dazai's way of working with/around people's feelings, and Fyodor's way of manipulating and twisting those feelings into monsters.
Mori remains cold, logical, distant, efficient. It meant disregarding Yosano's and the soldiers' deteriorating mental health during the war because the concept of an army that cannot be wiped out was too good. It meant following Natsume's plan and taking the old boss' place himself to fix Yokohama's underground and protect the city and its people. It also meant disposing of Mimic by sacrificing Oda in order to get the special ability business permit, despite (and perhaps because of) Dazai's attachment to the man.
The thing is, humans are not logical creatures, and will inevitably encounter conflicting emotions.
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(does this look like the face of a man without regrets to you?)
Mori in Dark Era tried to pass on to Dazai his practice of putting aside his own feelings for the sake of choosing the most efficient solution that will benefit the group. It backfired spectacularly, so much so even, that Mori regrets it to this day.
For the BSD exhibition, Asagiri wrote some individual character commentaries, all very interesting insights into their characters and the writing intentions. For Mori, here's what he wrote:
“He who fell out of the optimal solution” Mori Ougai’s belief as the boss is described in the novel “Dark Era” and “Dazai, Chuuya, Fifteen”. That is “The boss stands on top of the organization, and at the same time, be the slave of all.” For the sake of the organization, the boss must always take the “logical optimal solution.” That is the duty of the boss. There is an unspoken additional point to it. “Therefore, no matter how much your heart aches, you have to ignore your personal feelings.” We can catch a glimpse of that in this scene. [the ADA-PM alliance meeting] Mori’s expressions after “Burnt it.” and “Like what you did to your predecessor”, gave us a glimpse of his true feelings that were made sacrifices for the sake of the “logical optimal solution”. (By the way, it goes without saying that Dazai is inducing Mori’s thoughts by words that will make him regret the past. It is to make him decide to form an “alliance”.) source and translation: Popopretty
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(notice the inclusion of Hirotsu in this scene. Remember that later, Hirotsu suggests that Dazai knows why Mori did what he did to overthrow the old boss, which, in my opinion, is both a proof of Dazai's support in Mori's goal, and a reminder to uphold it.)
One of my favourite parts of the Dark Era light novel is a small scene during the epilogue that was not adapted into the anime. This is two weeks after Dazai defected:
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To quote Asagiri again, "Therefore, no matter how much your heart aches, you have to ignore your personal feelings." Mori is conflicted about the outcome of the Mimic incident. He holds in his hands the Silver Oracle he himself gave to Oda, and reflects on its purpose: to "help the man mentioned above without hesitation in the face of any and all trials". Didn't he fail to do just that with Oda? Didn't he set him up and sent him to his doom? Didn't he abandon him to his trial?
But he rationalizes the events by saying he got the permit they so badly needed. No matter if he sacrificed one of his men. No matter if he drove Dazai away. He accomplished his priceless goal. It was a total success.
And yet, he poorly folds a paper airplane with the very Silver Oracle he gave Oda, throws it, watches it crash immediately, and mourns the loss of his right-hand man, without ever moving on.
But we have a direct example of Mori expressing regret.
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The perception that Mori in BEAST is a completely different character than Mori is in canon, when that perception doesn't extend to any other character from that universe, rubs me the wrong way. The characters in BEAST are very similar to their canon selves, with some core traits getting a new twist. They are all one or two major life changes away from becoming these versions of themselves. As far as we know, Mori's only life-altering event was being forcefully removed from the Port Mafia by Dazai, and secretly put in charge of Atsushi's old orphanage.
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Mori unambiguously made that orphanage a better place, as stated by Atsushi himself. BEAST!Mori is a lot softer, vulnerable and honest. That Mori offers to be a father to Atsushi while he heals. He also expresses regret in not being able to help Dazai when he was in his care.
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I think it's very interesting, especially when knowing that Asagiri wrote both BEAST and Fifteen at the same time for the Dead Apple movie, because in Fifteen we have this:
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The beginning of the first chapter of Fifteen is a gold mine. It is narrated from Mori's point of view, the man of logic and calculations, and yet it is full of doubt. He is alone and struggling to fix everything with so many people against him. But, throughout this scene about grasping at the Port Mafia's power, there is also this secondary thought being woven in, of Mori having started to actually care for Dazai.
The teenager is scary to him, smart enough to be a threat should he decide to be done with all this and turn against him, and yet, he immediately (and with a hint of sadness) finds that Dazai reminds him of himself. This lonely, lonely man found a kindred spirit, bright enough to grasp any situation in seconds and prone to using an uncomfortable obsession to divert and keep you guessing his true intentions. Mori entered Mentor Mode™ then. He taught Dazai his ways, he shared his struggles and thought process, he fought tooth and nail to keep him alive.
So when he asked Dazai why he wanted to die, it was with the concern of someone who has started to care. It was with the mind of someone who is trying to prevent the worst by fixing the problem at its source.
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(translation: Reneray)
But it's also that self-projection/ability to relate that made him drive Dazai away, when he pushed too hard and forced Dazai to adhere to his optimal solution philosophy. Because Dazai cannot separate himself from his attachments, could not ignore his emotions like Mori does, and chose Oda over Mori's logic. From Dazai's point of view, that was betrayal. Mori and him were accomplices!
Dazai planted the idea that Mori was afraid of him taking over as boss, and Mori seems to agree with that thought (would it be because he feared for his life, or for Dazai's ability to replace him?) Yet, for a man afraid of his closest subordinate backstabbing him, he seems to be hanging on quite hard to the possibility of Dazai coming back, leaving his seat open to this day, inviting him back twice in the same arc, and...
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(yeah I used this picture at the start too. "I hAvE nO rEgReTs" he says)
Mori may try to convince himself he feels no regrets and no guilt over his own actions by weighting gains and losses objectively, but he still hurts and has a very hard time moving on. He's human despite his best efforts, prone to mistakes and doubts. He's lonely and wishes to impart his knowledge onto others. His cold logic has both helped him in fixing the city, and alienated him from some of the people he most cared about.
In a similar vein, should the ADA employee transfer be of topic again, and should Mori clash with Yosano again, I wish we get to see some similar conflicting emotions in Mori between the usefulness of Yosano's ability, and Yosano herself as a person. The war was 14 years ago, that's a long time, and I want to believe that counts for something.
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