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#'at least we look clumsy together right?'
notmoreflippingelves · 5 months
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Actually going insane over the implications of Jason asking Dick to be the Robin to his Batman in Battle for the Cowl.
Like I initially took it at the purely surface-level of Jason wanting a partner in the general sense. Which made sense, it's a huge responsibility and a lonely one so an assistant/sidekick/partner seems a no-brainer if you can get one.
But then I really thought about it, because Jason is not asking Dick to be his partner in the general sense; he's not even asking Dick to be his Nightwing. He's asking Dick to be his Robin.
And they both know exactly what Jason means: "Be the light to my darkness. Be the smile to my scowl. Be the hope to my fear. "
He's saying "Be 'Robin'; be the embodiment of Love and Justice and Goodness. Be the exceptional person that you have always been. Be the slightly-less exceptional person that I was when I wore your colors. Be the person that I was in the process of becoming and might have been (or might still be), if only Joker hadn't clipped my wings."
He's saying "I am prepared to become vengeance, become the Night. And I will go further than Bruce ever dared to, because it is what is needed. I will be the necessary evil. But you don't have to be. If Batman is Gotham's curse, Robin has always been its blessing. I will be the brutal punishment to our world, and I am asking you to be its incandescent gift."
He's saying, "Be for me, what we were for Him. Be my anchor, my comfort, my hope. Remind me what it's all for, why it's all worth it. And remind yourself as well."
He's saying "Be 'Robin' again--for both of our sakes."
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withleeknow · 9 months
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forgetful.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; minho is lowkey the biggest simp wbk, unedited ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ word count: 0.9k note: first fic of 2024! don't look at me tho, at this point i just keep writing the most self-indulgent shit lol
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
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minho is the type to - 15 seconds after he meets you for your weekly date night - ask you where your gloves are when he sees your reddened and shivering hands. there was a greeting kiss preceding the question, of course.
"i think we both know what the answer is," you tell him, trying to rub your hands together for warmth until he takes them and presses your cold fingers against his cheeks, before he kisses your palms.
"what’s the point of getting matching gloves if you keep forgetting yours?" he says, a light scolding tone in his voice that matches the slight frown tugging on his brows.
"it's not my fault!" you try to defend yourself. you'd raise your hands for emphasis, but he's still keeping them near his face, alternating between kisses and blowing into them to get you all nice and toasty. "i keep them by the door on purpose so i wouldn't forget to take them with me when i go out. you have to at least give me a little credit for that. i just... never actually remember to bring them."
he rolls his eyes, an act that most would find patronizing especially if minho is the one who's doing it. but when it comes to you, everything minho does is full of affection, even as he pretends to be annoyed.
"what am i going to do with you?" he mutters like a disappointed parent.
"it was your idea to get the gloves. i didn't really need them though. i have you."
"but i'm not with you all the time, baby. you need to keep yourself warm."
"well, you're here with me, aren't you? you can keep me warm now. i'll worry about cold hands later."
squishing his cheeks together, you pull him toward you for a swift peck.
despite his exasperated sigh, minho still presses his lips against each of your palms one last time, even turns them over to kiss your knuckles, before he settles on intertwining his left hand with your right one, stuffing them in his coat pocket as he pulls the both of you toward the direction of your dinner reservation.
"wait!" you exclaim, holding up your neglected hand, "what about this one? it's cold too."
he turns to look at you, his face devoid of all emotions as he assesses your so-called dilemma. then, minho lets go of you, telling you to put both your hands in your own pockets.
"come onnn," you lament, pouting at the man in front of you.
"you come on," he retorts. "just do it."
you huff childishly, watching as the breath comes out in a puff of smoke in the cold air, thinking minho is really letting you fend for warmth by yourself for the remaining 10 minutes that it takes to walk to the restaurant.
it's not like you meant to forget the gloves at home.
before you can resume walking, minho moves to stand behind you, pulling you to him, eliciting a surprised oof! from you. he shoves his hands into your pockets, intertwining your fingers once again within the confines of the fabric as he shuffles you forward, his legs on either side of yours so it's easier for you to walk. the thick coats and wool scarves that you're both wearing already make you look like a pair of clumsy bears roaming the street, but with your back pressed against his front like this, you have no doubt that by-passers must be thinking you're two cotton balls waddling in the middle of the city.
"minho!" you laugh, partially embarrassed that people are side-eyeing this strange public display of affection. "stop!"
"you wanted me to keep you warm, didn't you?"
"people are staring!"
"you said you were cold." he seems unfazed though, continuing to nudge you forward like it's the most normal thing in the world. "make up your mind."
"i take it back!"
you do your best to plant your feet firmly on the ground to keep him from moving. it works though, or at least it staggers him enough for you to wriggle out of his hold. you take a few steps away from minho, and he looks at you with unimpressed eyes.
"i take it back," you repeat. "we're only a couple blocks away. i think i'll manage."
he stares at you for a moment longer, before he reaches into his bag and pulls out a pair of gloves, identical to the matching ones that you two picked out together a few weeks ago.
"how do you have my gloves?"
"these aren't the ones at your place," he clarifies. "this is your backup pair. i went back to the store and got them because i know you never remember to take shit with you."
you don't even try to suppress the grin that tugs on your lips when he walks closer to you, taking your hands and attentively covers your skin with the wool. "so you just... keep them with you at all times now?" you ask.
"pretty much, yeah."
once he's made sure that gloves are hugging your fingers snugly, you pull him down for a kiss, your lips moving together warmly. you feel him smile against you even though he's trying to look stern.
"you love me sooo much," you simper when you break from the kiss.
minho sighs, a long one as if to say yes, unfortunately i do love you very much.
"now come on." this time he does speak aloud. "let's go before they give away our table."
because that's just the kind of person minho is. because no matter how grumpy he may appear from the outside, he's still the type to always think of you and your wellbeing and show up for you even when you don't show up for yourself. no matter how callous his facade is, he is still the type to love you quietly. tenderly. completely.
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 01.01.2024]
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lannister-rose · 1 month
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Duty Ends Where Love Starts - Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Sweethearts since childhood, you and Aegon were always meant to be together, but when duty, love, and political rivalry all clash together, you both find yourselves in loveless marriages with other people. After an argument breaks out between your husband, Aemond, and his brother you seek to help mend the issue. When you find yourself in Aegon's chambers alone with only him, suppressed emotions bubble their way to the surface.
Warnings: Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter, Slight Aemond x Reader (One Sided), Infidelity, Heavy emphasis on infidelity, Targcest (Uncle and Niece), Arranged marriages, Smut, P in V sex, Creampie, Mentions of pregnancy, use of Moon Tea, Minors Do Not Interact (MDNI)
Word Count: 2.9k
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You were three and ten when Aegon kissed you for the first time in the library of the Red Keep while you were both supposed to be studying. It was your first kiss, and his, too; neither of you knowing what to do as your lips met each other's. It was clumsy and awkward, lasting only a few seconds, but it felt like a bliss-filled eternity before you pulled away, your cheeks burning as a deep shade of bright red covered them, you stuttering as you failed to find the right words to tell the boy who you had fallen for.
After that day you begged your mother, Rhaenyra, to speak with your Grandsire about having you wed to Aegon when you both came of age, telling her that you'd never have another take your hand in marriage. Your mother honored your request, but it was Aegon's mother, the Queen Consort Alicent Hightower, who refused to betroth her eldest to you.
When the time came, you found yourself Aemond Targaryen's wife, a marriage that would prove itself to be far from fulfilling. Aemond loved you, as he claimed, but the feelings were far from reciprocated, even as you spent more time with him over the years. He wasn't Aegon. Still, duty always called to those who held it, and you were his wife by law.
"Where is Aegon?" Your Grandsire, Viserys, questioned one night over supper, looking around the table for his son. "Do any of you know where he is?" He asked again, looking to the fellow members of your family for any insight. You had to admit, you were curious, too. It wasn't like him to miss supper, especially not when his favorite wine was being served.
"He and I had an argument," Your husband answered from beside you, the traces of a smug smirk on his face as he glanced over at you. "He had some choice words regarding my Lady Wife and I, and I made sure to put him in his place." You raised a brow at the information, unable to feign disinterest any longer. "My elder brother is likely sulking in his room right now as any child would." You watched as Alicent shot him a look, a warning to her son not to bring further drama to the already tense table.
"You two have been at each other's throats since we were children, Aemond." You stated plainly, standing up from your seat. "I do not wish to hear of your bickering with him, not at supper." You moved, heading towards the room's entrance. "I've lost my appetite, please excuse me."
You left, moving through the halls and towards Aegon's chambers. It had been your job since you were young to be your uncles' mediator, helping mend, or at least calm them both after their arguments. This one would be no different. You didn't bother knocking on the door once you were at his room, quickly dismissing the guards before stepping in.
He sat at his desk, staring down into a cup of wine with a mix of irritation and what looked to be a hint of hurt on his face as he swirled the dark liquid around in its cup. His deep purple eyes turned upwards to look at you briefly as you entered before returning down, the prince not bothering to react much to your sudden intrusion into his chambers.
"Has anyone ever taught you it's rude to barge into someone else's chambers without knocking first, Lady Velaryon?" He asked, the statement more of a playful jab than a question, even despite his slightly annoyed tone of voice.
"You and Aemond fought, and I hear it involved me, Uncle." You said, skipping straight to the point as you grabbed a spare chair from elsewhere in the room and pulled it up to the desk, sitting next to Aegon. "My husband said you had some 'choice words' regarding him and myself, may I ask what you said?"
Aegon set his cup down, finally looking at you fully. "I was drunk and said some things I should not have said; that is all that happened between him and me." He confessed, and you knew he was only speaking half of the truth, the half you already knew.
"Really? Is that all? Then why have you isolated yourself to your room then?" You pried, determined to get to the bottom of the issue. "What did you say, Aegon?"
Your uncle looked away, refusing to meet your gaze and you two fell into silence for a long moment, the prince trying to decide what he would say. "Do you ever know what our lives would be like if we had been wed to each other? If all the pleading we had done hadn't fallen on the deaf ears of our mothers?" He turned his head back up, looking at you with eyes swirling deep with conflicted emotion.
"Of course I do, Aegon." You answered simply, taking a deep breath. "But fate had other plans for us all, and we must adapt to it. Duty is scarcely something we desire." You felt your heart ache at your admission, the cruel reality of your situation sinking in once more after you'd spent years trying to bury how it made you feel.
"What do you desire?" He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently before he continued. "Are you happy with Aemond? Do you want to be with him? Has your heart begun to yearn for my brother after all these years with him?" Aegon awaited your answer, every second of your silence felt like a lifetime.
"It does not matter what I desire," You finally spoke, removing your hand from his. "I must fulfill my duty as—"
"Fuck duty." He interrupted, tone laced with bitterness. "I asked what you wanted, not what you must." He grabbed his wine, taking a long drink of it before speaking again. "I told Aemond that he didn't deserve you. That's why we argued, sweetling." The last word, filled with hate as it left his lips, felt like a sharp dagger to the chest. "My brother doesn't love you as I do, doesn't understand how much it infuriates me to hear the talk of him neglecting you while claiming to cherish you, his darling wife." Aegon's grip on his cup tightened, fingers digging into the metal.
You stood from your seat, making your way towards the door. "I think you're drunk again, Aegon. I'll see you once you've sobered up and stopped talking nonsense." Before you could leave he stood up quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you back, flipping you around to face him. Your eyes widened as you stared back at him, and your mouth opened to scold him for what he just did.
Before you could take the chance to speak, he kissed you, lips moving with fervor against yours as he poured every emotion he ever felt for you into it. You hesitated before kissing back, melting into his touch as you relaxed, your hands resting on his shoulders as he pulled you closer, arms wrapping around your waist. It was wrong, you knew it, but emotion overpowered logic as you gave into him, tasting the fruity, almost sweet taste of wine on his lips as he kissed you.
"Aegon," You breathed out once you separated, your heart racing in your chest as you stared into his Indigo eyes filled with love and affection only he had ever shown you. You hadn't kissed him since before his wedding to Helaena so many years ago, and doing it once more after so long brought every feeling you had suppressed for him back to the surface.
"I need you to know that I'm not drunk when I say this." He paused, tenderly cupping your face in his hands. "I love you. With every part of my being. I swear it by the Gods." He leaned in further, your lips nearly touching again. "You may be Aemond's by law, but you are mine. We both know it, and we've gone too long denying it. What's stopping us from loving one another behind closed doors? What the rest of our family doesn't know will bring no harm."
You took a shaky breath at the proposition. It was a risky one should you follow through with it, but the risk made it all the more exciting to think about. Being able to be with the one you loved after so long would be worth the sneaking around, the guilt, and the shame.
"I'd kill for you, man or woman. I'd burn our house to the ground, burn the Seven Kingdoms to ash if it meant I'd be with you at the end of it all." His lips pressed against yours once more in another passion-filled kiss. You wanted him, needed him. No man had touched you in so long, not your husband, and not Aegon; you craved more of it, hungered for it like a starved animal staring at its first meal in ages.
You kissed him back with equal desire, moaning against his lips as you led him towards his bed, carefully pushing him down onto the mattress below. You straddled him, pressing up against the growing budget in his breeches as he held your hips, looking up at you with uncertainty, a rare state to see the prince in when with women.
"What's wrong, Aegon? You've bedded many women before. Don't tell me you've grown scared of them now." You teased, hands running over the expensive fabric of his dark forest green tunic.
"I've bedded whores, not the noble lady who I've loved since childhood." He corrected, letting you slip off his shirt and throw it to the stone ground below, leaving his chest bare and free for you to see and drink in the sight of. "Is it so wrong of me to wish to please you properly?"
You chuckled lightly at his words. "You're already doing better than Aemond by spending this time with me. My husband rarely has me in such a position." It was Aegon's turn to chuckle, slipping your gown off your shoulders as he did so. He watched your breasts spill out of your dress, cock hardening even further at the beautiful sight
"Gods, your beauty is unmatched." His hand found your soft breast, kneading it as you moaned lewdly, the sound like music to his ears. "Do you know how long I've yearned to hear those sounds come from you? How many nights I had spent wishing you were the one with me instead of some whore?" He pressed open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your chest, savoring each and every noise that escaped you.
You helped him remove your gown fully, leaving your fully nude figure on full display to your lover. He drank in the sight, the look of you being more fulfilling and delicious than any other person or thing he had ever experienced. You weren't from a brothel, nor were you Helaena or any other woman who had ever been with. You were his first and only love, and here you were in front of him, letting him do to you what he had always desired.
"You're staring, Aegon." You observed, your voice low and sultry, utterly intoxicating.
"What man wouldn't when faced with such a pretty thing?" His hands roamed your body as he smirked.
You pulled off his breeches, letting his cock spring out, the tip already leaking small translucent pearls of precum from the excitement of it all. You bit your lip as you realized how big he was. You'd struggle to take him. You stroked him slowly, bringing your hand up and down his thick length. Aegon watched through half-lidded violet eyes as you touched him, a groan of your name leaving his lips. Then you placed his cock, hard and ready, at your entrance, sinking down onto it, struggling to hold back a loud moan as you did so.
"I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you." Aegon's hands grabbed at your hips as you began to bring yourself up and down, riding his cock. You felt like no other woman he had ever been with; to him, you were perfection. For the first time in his life he was overwhelmed by sex, the emotions he held for you combined with the feeling of the velvety walls of your cunt wrapped around him combined in a way that had his head blissfully empty except for the thought of you.
"Kiss me." The words sounded more desperate than he intended, but that's what he was: desperate. The prince had never been one to kiss when he did these things, but he had gone years without you, and he'd be damned if he didn't take all you had to offer, savoring it as he did.
You listened to him, leaning down, your body pressing up against his as your lips moved together sloppily. Aegon gripped your hips tighter, beginning to thrust his own upwards, driving his cock deep into you. You whimpered against his lips, trying to meet his movements with yours to get more of him.
"You're going to make me cum." Aegon announced through his groans, unable to last long with how well you were taking him. "I'm going to fill you up, little dove. You want that, don't you? I'll make you mine." You let out a mix between a moan and a whine as his thrusts up into you grew rougher, the sounds of your shared pleasure filling the otherwise quiet room. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, mouth wide open as you failed to do much else other than let him fuck you.
"Fuck! Aegon!" You managed to get out as the tip of his cock grazed your sweet spot, pushing you closer to your impending climax. All it took was one more touch of that same spot, more head-on this time, for you to cum around him, your cunt fluttering with the force of your orgasm. He followed soon after, losing his rhythm before his hips stilled, warm cum coating your insides and spilling out down your thighs.
You slumped over, breathing heavily as you lay next to him, placing your head on his chest as your post-orgasmic haze set it. His fingers combed through your hair, deep violet eyes closing as his lips curled up into a satisfied smile; the silver-haired man being pleasantly exhausted.
"I love you." You spoke softly, breaking the silence. "They say love is where duty ends, Aegon." The prince tucked a stray lock of your hair behind your ear before caressing your cheek.
"That's because love feels a lot better, sweetling. We all indulge despite what's expected of us. Tonight we chose to indulge in each other," he leaned in, a sweet kiss soon finding its way to you. "It's wrong, isn't it? What we've done here. I don't care how wrong things may be, not when you're next to me, warming my bed." He moved on top of you, being to press chaste, loving kisses to your neck. You smiled tiredly, wrapping your arms around him, enjoying the warmth he radiated.
No one would keep you from him, not after tonight. You'd both have to return to your spouses eventually when duty overpowered love, but for now, you were each other's.
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When what was expected of you did make its call you separated from Aegon, bathing away the remnants of your night together before leaving his chambers, thankful that the servants who fetched the water didn't pry further. Later on, you found yourself in the library, pretending to read a book while you reminisced about that first kiss with Aegon that started it all between you and him. The sound of shoes stepping against the hard floor drew you out of your thoughts, and you looked up toward the source, finding it to be your mother.
"We need to talk," Rhaenyra said with concern in her voice, making her way to you quickly, a small cup held carefully in her hands. She sat beside you, handing you the cup. You took it, a confused look on your face.
"What's this?" You asked, looking down at the currently unidentified liquid that smelled of tansy and sweet honey.
"I don't know what you've done, what risks you've already taken, but rumors have spread of your infidelity." Your mother explained. "I do not wish to interrogate you, but I have a feeling I already know who it is whom you've spent your time with, and knowing who he is, I know these words are likely more than just gossip spread by those wishing to sully your name."
Your heart sunk at her words, and it was then that you knew what she had handed you. It was moon tea, that's why it smelled of tansy. "Mother, I'm—" She stopped you, placing her hands onto yours, comforting you.
"I know what it's like to choose love over all else, and the dangers which come. You mentioned in passing a few days ago how Aemond hadn't touched you in a long while. He's no fool. He'll know if you fall pregnant that the child isn't his, and I fear what he may do once that realization comes.
You took a deep breath, bringing the cup up to your lips and taking a sip, the taste both bitter and sweet as it reached your tongue. Your mother understood like no other could.
"It is just a precaution, sweet girl. I trust you to be cautious from now on. Duty ends where love starts." She stood up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You needed your mother in this moment, and here she was. She was right. Duty ends where love starts. That phrase would become your mantra.
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stevie-petey · 5 months
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episode three: the case of the missing lifeguard
You glance at your door, worried your mom has heard Steve’s pathetic fall, while he clutches at his knee and groans. Through gasps of pain, he manages to respond, “Give me a second to recover my pride, Y/N.” “We need more than just a second to recover your pride.” You crawl out of bed and offer the boy your hand. “Get up, dummy.” He accepts the help and stands, brushing himself off. “Your bed is freakishly high.” “Have you ever considered that you’re just clumsy?” “I’m an athlete, angel.”
Summary: dustin blackmails you for $5 and then dubs steve as boyfriend material for you, robin cracks yet another russian code, you all almost waterboard yourselves after sneaking onto the mall's roof, you have a sexy nervous breakdown, and jonathan takes you for a drive in his sick car
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader
Words: 7k
Before you swing in: hi my loves !! had a hectic final week of classes but im finally done !! (technically i have one more final but thats a later issue). this chapter is a lot of banter and chaos and theres some sad feelings towards the end that im a bit frightened to see the reactions to so ,,,, enjoy !
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When your alarm goes off for work, Steve accidentally kicks you off of your bed in his panic.
“Fuck!”
Your brain barely has time to process that you’re awake as you begin to fall. “What–”
Steve manages to catch you from face planting just in time, flinging you back onto the bed as he struggles to untangle himself from the blankets. “Fuck! Sorry!”
“What’s going on?” you rub your eyes and realize that the screeching sound next to you is your alarm. Slamming your hand against it, the cloud of sleep starts to lift from your brain and you realize why Steve is a storm of chaos right now. “Oh, fuck.”
The two of you accidentally fell asleep together last night. 
He never went home, he never snuck back out your window with a kiss farewell. 
Now, as you take in the situation you’re currently in, you can hear your mother making breakfast in the kitchen, blissfully unaware that there’s a boy in her daughter’s room.
“Yeah, fuck!” Steve shakes at his leg, which is somehow twisted within your bedding and prevents him from escaping. “Get me out!”
“Shit!” You quickly untwist the bedding and free him, but as he rolls off your bed, he misjudges the height and fails to catch himself. He lands with a horrifyingly loud thud, and you throw a pillow at him. “Will you shut up?”
You glance at your door, worried your mom has heard Steve’s pathetic fall, while he clutches at his knee and groans. Through gasps of pain, he manages to respond, “Give me a second to recover my pride, Y/N.”
“We need more than just a second to recover your pride.” You crawl out of bed and offer the boy your hand. “Get up, dummy.”
He accepts the help and stands, brushing himself off. “Your bed is freakishly high.”
“Have you ever considered that you’re just clumsy?”
“I’m an athlete, angel.”
You place your hands on his chest and gently shove him towards your window. “Well, if you’re such an athlete, then it should be no problem for you to hop through this window and get to work, Harrington.”
“At least pretend you’re sad to see me leave–”
Someone knocks on your door. “Y/N? You awake yet?”
Hearing Dustin’s voice, you and Steve exchange a horrified look before you’re shoving even harder at his chest to get him out of your room. “Go!”
Steve stumbles over his feet and makes as much sound as humanly possible. He knocks into your desk and sends a stack of comics falling and he almost slips on them, only narrowly catching himself. Frustrated and bewildered that he keeps falling, he exclaims, “Why does this keep happening?”
The knocking on your door stops. A beat of silence passes before Dustin hesitantly calls through the door, “... did I just hear Steve?”
“No!” You almost throw Steve out your window with the force you shove him, which he curses at and gives you a dirty look, though you ignore him. He’s the one who got you into this fantastically horrible mess in the first place. “I–uh. I stubbed my toe!”
You anxiously wait for Dustin’s response, mentally running through all possible explanations in your head, but after a few minutes pass and you don’t hear anything; you exhale with relief. Seemingly sensing that you’re in the clear, Steve breathes out as well. “That was close.”
“Ew!” Your brother’s screech could rival the Demodogs with how loud and terrifying it is.
Gulping, Steve looks at you and laughs nervously. “Whoops?”
You glare at him. “Get out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He kisses your forehead and does as he’s told, crawling through your window. Thankfully he lands gracefully this time, and as he begins running towards his car parked down the street, he calls over his shoulder, “See you after your shift!”
Despite your annoyance, you can’t help but laugh as you watch him run away. It’s reminiscent of the boyish charm you saw a few years ago, back when you had almost hit his car with your bike and he had pretended not to know your name in order to get you to laugh. 
Your reminiscing is cut short by Dustin’s obnoxious groaning. “Oh, god. Why did it get quiet in there? Get off my sister!”
You march over towards your door and fling it open. Your brother stands there, a horrified look on his face, and you glance behind him to make sure your mom is still in the kitchen. When the coast is clear, you sneer at him, “Nothing happened!”
“I’m fourteen, not an idiot.”
“We didn’t do anything.” When Dustin snorts at you, disbelieving, you want to strangle the kid. You’re mortified and cannot fucking believe that your little brother thinks anything else happened between you and Steve. “I swear.”
“See, I’d believe you, but mom…” He shrugs with a smug look on his horrid face. “I don’t know, Y/N.”
You drop your head and sigh, knowing where this is going. “How much money do you want?”
“$5, please. I prefer exact change, too.” He extends his arm out and opens his hand, silently demanding the money. 
“You’re horrible, you know that?” You go into your dresser and pull out a five dollar bill before handing it to him. 
Clutching the cash, Dustin smirks. “You raised me well.”
“Get out of my room.”
Hearing the anger in your voice, your brother knows he has about five more seconds before you start throwing things at him. “Yes, ma’am.”
– 
Work is slow, as usual, and when it’s time to pick up Alex from the pool, you wish Mrs. Waters a good day and get into your mom’s car that you borrowed today. With fewer shifts at the bookshop, Alex has started working at the pool to make extra money; on days when he’s there before a shift at Bookstrordinary, it’s your job to drive him to work. 
It’s pouring as you drive to the pool, setting an eerie tone on the first day of July. The summer’s heat causes the thunder to shake your car, and your knuckles are white from how tightly you hold onto the steering wheel.
When you pull up and see Alex hunched over and drenched from the rain, you laugh at him. “Well, looks like someone’s shift ended at the right time,” you say as he quickly jumps into your car. 
Alex doesn’t return your good mood. “Not funny, Y/N.”
Sensing that there’s something more to his foul mood than just being rained on, you look over at him in concern as you begin to drive. “Is everything alright over there?”
“Billy and Heather never showed up for work, so we were short handed fending off dumb kids who wanted to swim with lightning.” Alex wrings out his t-shirt and shakes his hair to dispel excess water, and you cringe as some of the water droplets land on you. “Telling a bunch of scary twelve year olds that they can’t swim… I thought I would die.”
The genuine terror in his voice is amusing, though his words unnerve you. It’s not like Billy to just not show up for work. He’s a lot of things, mainly a dickhead, but the few times you’ve driven the party to the pool, he’s always been there working; he’s dedicated to discipline. Hell, you’ve been to Max’s house, you know her family isn’t the wealthiest.
Billy can’t afford to skip work. 
“They just… never showed up?”
“Nope,” Alex curls into him in a feeble attempt to warm himself up. “We all think they ditched to hookup.”
You think about how rough Billy had looked yesterday, with fresh blood still dripping from him and the feverish chills he seemed to have. Something hadn’t been right, and a knot forms in your stomach. You highly doubt he had ditched work to go hookup with Heather, not if he’s still in the state that he was in yesterday. 
Regardless of what he’s done to you, you hope he’s okay.
Something about this feels wrong.
“Yeah, probably.” Your voice is weak as you respond to your coworker, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on your now solemn mood. 
The rest of the car ride is spent with Alex gossiping about where Billy and Heather could be, so it’s a relief when you finally arrive at Bookstrordinary and he leaves your car. You sit in the parking lot for a few minutes, your stomach twists and the knots multiply. The rain patters softly against the windshield in an almost rhythmic pattern as you try to calm yourself down with deep breaths.
The only sound in the car is your own breathing accompanied by the raindrops. 
– 
It’s Dustin’s idea to spend the day looking for evil Russians. 
Steve isn’t sure where he got the binoculars, but at this point he’s learned that it’s best to not question the kid. Makes things easier.
Which leads to now: the two of them hunched behind fake plants at Starcourt sharing binoculars as they look for people who could fit the “evil Russian” description, all while ignoring the fact that Dustin caught Steve in your room. 
“I don’t know what an evil Russian looks like.” Steve is holding the binoculars up to his eyes as he scans the food court area. He has no clue what he’s looking for and he swears that Dustin is purposely staring him down to try and get him to confess about this morning.
“Tall, blond, not smiling.” The kid responds, knowing that Steve is trying to distract him with stupid questions. He’s squirming under Dustin’s gaze, which he gets a sick joy out of. Between the $5 you coughed up and Steve’s obvious distress, it’s a pretty good day for Dustin Henderson. “Anyways, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing.”
Steve continues to look through the binoculars, relieved that Dustin seems to be playing along and hasn’t hounded him about this morning. “Right, okay. Duffle bags.”
As Steve busies himself with the search, Dustin waits a few seconds to lull him into a false sense of security. He’s been waiting all day to do this. Clearing his throat, he prepares for the attack. “Hey, uh, Steve?”
“Yeah, little Henderson?”
“While you look for evil Russians, keep an eye out for idiots who traumatize their friends by sleeping with their sisters.”
Steve yanks the binoculars away from his face as if they’ve burned him. His eyes are wide and panicked as he turns to Dustin with a horrified look on his face. “That is not what happened!”
“Tell that to the traumatized kid.” The younger teen waves a hand over himself to emphasize his point. “You owe me like, at least five years of therapy.”
“I didn’t sleep with Y/N, dude! That’s–that’s gross–”
“Are you calling my sister gross?” Dustin crosses his arms now, daring Steve to go on. 
He groans and rubs his face. “That’s not what I meant, alright? I just… She’s your sister and–and we aren’t even together–”
“That’s a good point, actually.” Dustin snatches the binoculars out of Steve’s hand and starts to look for any signs of Russians. “Why aren’t you with my sister?”
Steve stares at him, dumbfounded. “You’re sending totally mixed signals, dude. Do you want me dating Y/N or not?”
“It’s not preferable, especially when I catch you sneaking out of her window like some skeezy douchebag–”
“How many times do I have to tell you nothing happened–”
“But, besides that,” Dustin shrugs, narrowing his eyes when he sees a possible blond teen who could fit the evil Russian description. “You’re not so bad, even though you’re a massive tool for not asking out the perfect girl right in front of you.”
Steve rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, entirely over this conversation. “You sound like Robin.”
The blond teen Dustin had been eying sits down and starts eating a hot dog, so he concludes that he isn’t Russian if he has an affinity for American food. “And Robin would be correct. Just ask Y/N out, she’s been waiting for like, at least a year now.”
“It’s not that easy.” Steve slumps over and bangs his head against the plant display they’re leaning against. “I have no idea how to ask her to be my girlfriend.”
“What, do you need my blessing or some shit?” Dustin removes the binoculars from his face and looks at the older teen, making sure to catch his eye. Then, in a horrible British accent, he says, “I give thy my blessing.”
“Thanks, buddy.” Steve deadpans, shoving the kid’s face away from his, uncomfortable with the eye contact. “But your blessing isn’t the problem. Y/N is just–she’s different and has been through a fuck ton of shit that I can’t even comprehend, and I’m just supposed to believe she wants to be with me?”
“Yeah?” Dustin cocks his head at Steve, not all understanding why he’s so confused about this. “You literally slept in her bed last night, man.”
Steve releases a quick breath and scratches his nose. He feels like an idiot and just really wishes you were here right now. “I… Well, yeah. Then there’s that.”
“It astounds me that you were once known as King Steve with a million girls drooling over him.” Dustin mumbles, baffled by the other’s patheticness, before going back to looking for Russians. 
“Let’s remember that it was my advice that got you that girlfriend of yours, alright? Girls love me, that’s never been the issue, ” Steve flicks the kid’s nose, a habit he’s picked up from you. “So cool it with the arrogance, dipshit.”
“Steve, do I need to remind you that it’s not okay to call my brother a dipshit?”
Your sudden appearance causes Steve to clutch his chest and scream. He spins around and gasps, terrified of how much you may have heard from his conversation with Dustin. “Y/N! Y-you’re here!”
“I am…” You frown, unsure why he looks so scared; normally he’s excited when you surprise him at work. 
“Uh,” Steve clears his throat and straightens his shirt out, trying to come off as collected rather than five seconds away from losing his shit. “I, uh. How much did you hear, ya know. Standing there?”
“Not much…?” Truthfully you’d been lost in thought, still worrying about Billy as you had approached the two teens hiding behind the fake plants. “All I heard was you calling my brother a dipshit.”
Steve deflates, and his reaction only confuses you further. Clearing his throat once more, he nods. “Oh. Yeah.”
You look over at Dustin, hoping for some type of clue as to what the fuck is wrong with Steve right now. “Did I miss something?”
“He was giving me horrible dating advice. Can we get back to looking for evil Russians?”
“Dating advice, huh?” You raise your eyebrows at Steve, who blushes furiously, and you giggle at his misery before turning back to Dustin. You eye the binoculars in his hand and point a finger at them. “And you can’t seriously think you’ll find evil Russians this way, right?”
“You got any better ideas, Y/N?” Your brother snarks as he brings the binoculars back up to his eyes. 
You nudge him with your shoulder. “No, but I’m positive I can think of something less childish than whatever this is.”
“Just help us look for someone tall and blond with duffel bags.” Steve sighs.
“Oh, because duffel bags are so scary and Russian.” You roll your eyes at the boys, ashamed of their antics. Their logic is flawed and biased with so many gaping holes, it’s almost comical, but it’s enough to distract you from your anxiety from earlier. “Guys, why can’t we just go back to Scoops and figure out another way–”
“Target acquired.” Dustin suddenly interrupts you. 
You share a look with Steve, who leans closer to the kid. “Where?”
“Ten o’clock. Sam Goody’s.”
Steve snatches the binoculars from Dustin’s hands and takes a look for himself, which you scoff at. They’re being ridiculous right now. However, when the older teen exhales in disbelief and announces the person has a duffel bag, your curiosity gets the better of you.
“Hand it over, pretty boy.” Before he can argue, you’ve snatched the binoculars from Steve and bring them up to your own eyes. It takes a few moments for you to find what the boys had been looking at, but when you finally spot the tall, blond man dressed in all black with sunglasses and a duffel bag, you can’t help but admit that he looks suspicious. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Steve and Dustin turn to each other and say in unison. “Evil Russian.”
The three of you chase after the guy, weaving between the crowd of people at the mall as you trail him. You and Dustin side step a woman with her kid as Steve speeds ahead of you guys. Struggling to keep up, your brother berates Steve to slow down. 
“We’re losin’ him.” He responds, only speeding up even more. 
“You’re getting too close.” Dustin warns, and you almost trip over your shoelaces in your haste. He’s right, Steve is getting too close to the guy, and it’s making you nervous.
You quicken your footsteps and tug at his uniform. “Steve, we need to be careful–”
Suddenly the Russian looking guy stops in his tracks and slowly begins to turn around. You all scramble and try to appear casual; Dustin runs to the phone and pretends to make a call while Steve pulls you to the corner and places his hands on your waist to pull you close. 
“Pretend we’re a couple!” He whispers, throwing your hands over his shoulders. 
“This is wholly unnecessary,” you mumble, face burning at the close proximity. His fingers burn your sides, it’s been too long since he’s held you like this. 
Steve chuckles at you and pulls you in closer, enjoying the moment far more than you think is needed. “Gotta admit, this is pretty romantic.”
You roll your eyes. “Totally. Super hot hunting down evil Russian spies with you, Steve.”
“Stop sucking face, the guy is getting away!” Dustin yanks at you and tears you from Steve’s grasp, disturbed and annoyed that it only took three seconds before you distracted the teen. 
Soon you’re all following the blond guy again, and when he starts to slow down, the three of you hide behind a column and poke your heads out. Watching, you see the guy enter into the Jazzercise studio and pull a speaker from his duffel bag. 
“Oh, this is much better than him being a Russian spy.” You snort, entirely amused by how this has all unfolded. The guy unzips his hoodie and reveals an incredibly muscular physique, and you can’t help but bite your lip. “His arms… Oh my.”
Steve sees you eyeing the guy and scrowls. “His arms aren’t that nice. “ He starts pulling you away now, sending death glares at the now confirmed zumba instructor, obviously jealous. You laugh, knowing your comment would annoy him. 
“I don’t know, honey. His arms were huge.”
“Please,” Steve rolls his eyes, unamused. “They looked like twigs to me.”
“You and I both know you’re lying.”
Steve groans and kisses your hand as he tugs you towards Scoops Ahoy. “You’re killing me here, angel.”
“It’s what I do best.”
While you and Steve argue, Dustin gags at you both and sighs in disappointment. He listens to you two argue the whole way back to the ice cream shop, and he’s never wanted to bang his head against a wall more. Here Steve is, claiming he can’t ask you out, yet he’s pathetically moping about you finding some random guy’s arms hot.
Dustin thinks the poor guy is doomed. 
When you arrive at Scoops, you break away from Steve’s whining and greet Robin. “Dude, you won’t believe the hot zumba instructor we followed–”
The girl rushes past you, not at all acknowledging your presence, as she exits the shop. You stop walking and share a confused look with Dustin and Steve as you all watch Robin run outside and jump on top of one of the benches. 
“What the hell?” You follow after her, concerned by her franticness. 
Robin is mumbling under her breath when you catch up, repeating the first sentence of the Russian code you deciphered over and over again as she spins and looks around the mall. “A trip to China sounds nice.”
“Hey, is everything okay?”
“A trip to China…” She ignores you as her eyes scan around the area once more. She looks as if she’s searching for something, repeating the phrase to herself.
You look around as well, not fully understanding what she’s doing, but it’s clear she’s at least looking for something to match the sentence. In the center of the food court, all you see are chain restaurants and vendors. Frustrated, you sigh. “Robin, I’m not sure what we’re looking for.”
“There!” She points at a restaurant called the Imperial Panda. “A trip to China!”
Bits of the code start to piece together in your head. If the message corresponds to stores in the mall… Unsure if you’re understanding Robin correctly, you hesitantly point towards the local shoe store up above. “If you tread lightly?”
“Yes! God, I knew you were the smart one in that weird trio!” Robin nods eagerly and tries to recall the rest. “When–when blue and yellow meet in the west. What could that mean?”
You both spin around, trying to find anything that could align with the line. As you’re studying a poster sign, Robin snaps her fingers and nods her head towards the giant clock that hangs below a bay window. Its hands are blue and yellow. “Think this could be it?”
“Robin Buckley, you’re a genius!” You throw your arms around her, in disbelief that she was able to figure the bizarre Russian code out all on her own. 
Robin is stiff in your arms for a moment, having not expected the praise, before she slowly melts into the embrace. She coughs slightly, her voice a pitch higher than usual. “It was easy enough to figure out.” 
“Robin, Y/N,” Steve and Dustin now join. “What are you two doing?”
“She cracked it!” You pull away from Robin but keep an arm thrown over her shoulder. 
Steve frowns. “Cracked what?”
Robin gently shoves your arm off and jumps down the bench she had been on. Stepping towards the boys, she leans in close, a glint in her eye. “I cracked the code.” 
“Is this even legal?” You shout over the thunder, shivering as the rain from the storm soaks through your clothes and into your bones as you sit with Steve and the others on the mall’s rooftop to spy on Russians.
You’re not at all sure how you ended up in this situation. 
When Robin had cracked the code, you figured that the four of you would ask the other mall employees about their delivery shifts. Maybe hide out in Steve’s car and watch for deliveries during the day, eliminate other variables. 
What you didn’t think the four of you would do, however, is sneak onto the roof of the mall in the pouring rain for an impromptu stakeout. 
Thunder rumbles above you as lightning strikes, causing you to jump further into Steve’s side. He wraps an arm around you and rubs soothing circles to try and comfort you, knowing that this entire situation is your nightmare.
Seeing your fear, Robin tries to reassure you. “We’re fine, Y/N.” Then she turns to Dustin, who is holding his stupid binoculars up as he surveys the group of delivery men below you. “Look for Imperial Panda and Kaufman Shoes.”
Your brother takes a moment to look around before he spots something. “They’re with that whistling guy, ten o'clock.”
You look down and watch the guy cart a series of boxes into the shipment alleyway. “It’s just a bunch of boxes, guys.”
“Sure, but what do you think’s in there?” Steve questions, absentmindedly drawing you closer for warmth when he feels you shiver again. He loaned you his raincoat, but clearly it doesn’t seem to be helping much with how much he can feel you shiver. A twinge of guilt sears through him for putting you through this in the first place.
“Guns, bombs?” Dustin guesses.
Robin throws in her own suggestions. “Chemical weapons?” 
“How about delicious noodles and sensible shoes? Why haven’t we considered those as options?” Your teeth are chattering now as more rain slams against you.
“Shut up, Y/N.” Dustin raises his binoculars up again. “Whatever it is, they’re armed to the teeth.”
“Armed?” You exclaim as more thunder clashes. Your switchblade warms in your pocket ominously; you didn’t sign up for men wielding fucking weapons. 
“Great.” Steve wipes water out of his face, feeling just as overwhelmed and defeated as you. “That’s great.”
The metal doors in the alleyway start to open, and faintly you can see the outline of more boxes within the storage room, it looks almost like a vault, though it’s hard to tell. Next to you, Robin squints as well. “What’s in there?”
“It’s just more boxes.” Dustin has to raise his voice in order to be heard over the rain.
Steve reaches for the binoculars. “Let me beck it out.”
However, he only ends up in an intense game of tug-of-war with Dustin as they start to fight over the binoculars. They grapple over it, argue about who needs it more, before the rain causes the thing they’re fighting over to slip out of their hands and bang harshly against the guardrail. 
The noise rings out through the night and catches the men’s attention from below. Gasping, you yank everyone down before they can see you. Instinctively your hand reaches for Steve’s while Robin reaches for your other hand. With your backs to the ground, the four of you pant as the adrenaline of almost being caught courses through you. 
Steve looks over at you to make sure you’re okay, and his eyes land on Robin’s fingers intertwined through yours. He frowns a bit, finding the physical affection from her odd, but sends her teasing wink.
When Robin sees his wink, she only clenches her jaw and turns away before releasing your hand. 
– 
“Well, I think we found your Russians.” Robin says as you all re-enter the mall.
“That was too close.” You mutter, wringing out your soaked t-shirt as your hair drips onto the floor. While the others seem to have already forgotten how the men with giant guns almost found you on the roof, you haven’t. It’s been on your mind the last ten minutes; it’s all you can fucking think about. 
You’re in too deep again. You can feel it. 
Dustin passes you and now walks in step with Robin. “What’s our plan now?” 
“Well, strange child, I think it’s obvious that we gotta break into the vault.”
“I’m sorry?” You step in between them now, not at all liking what you’re hearing. “No one is breaking into anything. Do you have any idea how dangerous and stupid that is?”
“C’mon, Y/N, loosen up a little!” Dustin whines, wanting you to just be on his side for once. 
“Loosen up? Guys, this is serious.” You look around at the others, lacing your voice with urgence. “We could be dealing with a national crisis, this isn’t just some stupid spy mission. We aren’t at all qualified to handle this.”
“I mean, aren’t we?” Steve hesitantly speaks up. When your angry eyes meet his, he flinches slightly. “Y/N, I know you’re scared, but–”
“I’m not scared.”
“We’ve been through… a lot,” his eyes flick over towards Robin, knowing she’s listening and that he can’t reveal too much. “All we’re doing is breaking into a vault. I mean, c’mon. We can do that, easily.”
Dustin nods eagerly at Steve’s words and Robin hums in approval. The three of them seem to almost form a unit against you, which makes you draw into yourself. Suddenly you feel like the odd man out, with no one on your side. Feeling panicked and defensive, your anger rises. “We shouldn’t have to break into anything! We can call Hopper, tell him what’s happening and at least have someone else on our side in case something happens.”
“Oh, like Hopper would believe us.” Dustin scoffs at you as if you’re some idiot, which doesn’t help the insecurity you feel.
“I know he’d listen to me.” You still regret having not called Hopper two years ago when you had found El in the woods. Had you told him about her sooner, about everything sooner, you know that you would’ve saved your brother and everyone else the heartache they endured because of you. 
You can’t make the same mistake again. You refuse to. 
Robin tries to appease you. “Look, we can just take a peek inside the vault, maybe dig through a box or two, then we can rat the Russians out to the cops! I promise, we won’t be doing anything dangerous.”
“We don’t know that.” 
Your words ring throughout the empty hallway the four of you stand in. An echo follows them, as if taunting you of your fears and worries, and no one says anything else. You all stand there, frozen, with Robin, Steve, and Dustin facing you. As if there’s a line now dividing them from you.
Steve’s heart pounds in his chest as your eyes land on him, silently pleading with him to say something, anything. “Y/N…”
But he can’t. Even though he heard the rising anxiety in your voice, even though he knows the weight behind the words you’ve yelled, Steve can’t meet your eye.
He knows that you carry so much guilt within you, and he wishes he could offer you more. He’s torn between wanting to defend you and ease the fear that you’ve confessed to him before, how you feel this overwhelming need to protect the ones you love, but he also wants to follow through with the Russians. To see where it takes him, if he can redeem himself. 
You stand before the three others, chest rising and falling rapidly, wondering if you’ve gone too far this time. 
Dustin is the one who steps forward first. He stares at you for a moment, his eyes sad, knowing that there’s more to your reluctance than just the possible danger. He understands how hard you fight to keep him safe, and how much harder you blame yourself when something goes wrong. With a sigh, your brother grabs your hand and starts to pull you away from the others.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Dustin says to Steve and Robin. Then, with an uncharacteristically gentle voice, he says to you, “let’s go home.”
You’re too tired to argue and you’re afraid you’ll start crying if you try to say anything else, so you follow after your brother and leave Steve and Robin alone in the hall.
– 
At home, you lay in bed trying to ignore the twisting feeling in your stomach that you’ve let everyone down. That you’ve let Steve down. You’ve never really argued with him before, at least not like this. You’re not even sure if you can call what happened earlier an argument, and the thought makes you groan and shove your face into your pillows.
You’re exhausted. 
As your thoughts spiral, your phone rings. 
“Hello?”
“Hey, bug.”
Jonathan’s voice settles over you in slow, soothing waves. You close your eyes, having not known how much you needed him until now. “Hi, bee.”
“You sound tired.” He notes with slight worry, always able to read you.
You sigh. “It’s… been a long day.” 
He hums over the phone, and the sound is familiar and lovely, though just as tired. “You too, huh?”
“I take it you’re not doing too well, either?”
“No,” he sighs, a slight gruffness to it. “Meet me in your driveway in ten minutes?”
“Deal.” 
He hangs up and you crawl out of bed, despite your aching bones protesting. You throw on a hoodie knowing to ward off July’s brisk night air and lazily lace up your sneakers. Slowly, so as to not make any loud noise, you open your door and poke your head out. 
The house is quiet. Your mom and Dustin must be asleep in their rooms, so you softly close your door and make your way outside. 
It doesn’t take long before Jonathan’s car pulls into your driveway. He has his headlights off, long familiar with the routine of picking you up late at night for drives around town. The two of you used to do it every night the summer he first got his license. 
You get into the car and the heat kisses your cheeks. Jonathan greets you with a tired smile as you put your seatbelt on, and when you nod your head at him, he starts the car and drives.
Neither of you say anything for a while as Jonathan drives the route you always take together. He has an old mix tape playing and you hum along, familiar with the songs. It’s peaceful, your fears from earlier have now faded; for now, it’s just you and Jonathan as you drive around Hawkins. 
“I’m sorry for being M.I.A recently.” He finally says after a while. You sit up a bit, knowing he’s ready now to talk about what’s brought him here tonight. The two of you never just drive around anymore for the fun of it, you know he’s here because there’s something bothering him. “Nancy has been… worrying me.”
You lean closer to Jonathan, now concerned. “Is everything okay between you two?”
“Honestly?” He breathes in shakily. “I–I don’t know.”
“Talk to me, bee.” You grab his hand that rests on the stick shift.
And he does. He explains about a woman named Mrs. Driscoll who called the Hawkins Post and how Nancy had decided to check out the story without telling their boss, roping Jonathan into it. He explains the rat they saw at the woman’s house, how it had looked sick, maybe infected with rabies, and how he had taken pictures of it to show their boss. 
When Nancy showed the men at the newspaper what they found, they had all laughed and belittled her. 
As Jonathan tells the story, he shakes his head in anger. “They were horrible to her, bug.”
You sigh, feeling awful for Nancy as well. “She’s smarter than all those men combined. She deserves better.”
“She does,” Jonathan shakes his head again. “But Tom, our boss, ordered her to drop the story. But Nancy…”
“Refuses to back down?” You guess, knowing how stubborn and passionate the girl is.
Jonathan swallows. “Yeah.”
“What happened tonight, Jonathan?” You sense there’s something he isn’t telling you, that there’s more to this than just men being shitty to Nancy at work.
“Nance, she–uh. She wouldn’t back down, even after I told her I was scared we’d get fired if we kept investigating Mrs. Driscoll, but she–she needed to prove she was right and I just–I can never tell her no. She’s relentless, ambitious, it’s what I love about her, but… Y/N, we found Mrs. Driscoll eating fertilizer after breaking into her house.”
“Oh my god,” you gasp and drop Jonathan’s hand. “Is she okay? What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Jonathan clenches his jaw. “We called for help and they took her to the hospital. When I dropped Nancy off at home, she… She wants to go visit the woman in the hospital.”
You’re silent for a moment, now understanding why Jonathan seems so shaken up. “Nancy still wants her story.”
“She does.”
“And you think she’s going too far.”
“I do.”
You sigh. “Jonathan…”
“I don’t know what to do, Y/N!” He raises his voice now, his anger surfacing. “I mean, we could get fired and she doesn’t seem to care! When Tom finds out that we’re the ones who put Mrs. Driscoll in the hospital… I–I can’t lose this job, bug. I can’t. Especially not because of some douchebags my girlfriend wants to prove wrong.”
As Jonathan unravels, your heart aches for both him and Nancy. It’s a tough situation, you understand both sides, and you can’t imagine having to go through any of it. 
Sighing, you grab his hand again and try to find the right words. “You have every right to feel scared, bee. I completely understand, this job means so much more to you than just some summer activity like it does for Nancy, but…” You bite your lip, worried you’ll say the wrong thing. “I also think Nancy’s ambition is admirable. From the stories she’s told me, those men are fucking vile and treat her like shit. I think you should try being more supportive of her.”
“How am I supposed to be supportive if I lose my job?”
You sigh again. “By holding her hand and recognizing that while it’s hard being poor in this world, it’s also hard being a woman. Both of you have a reason to be upset, and while I’m not saying it’s fair of Nancy to disregard your financial situation, I think you both need to sit down and talk about this without the other getting defensive.”
Jonathan rolls his eyes. “Neither one of us gets defensive.”
“You two are the most defensive and prideful people I’ve ever met, it’s a miracle you haven’t fought until now.”
He laughs at this, knowing you’re right. “Maybe another conversation wouldn’t hurt… I just, what’s going to happen tomorrow?”
You shrug. “I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you that you’ll need Nancy just as much as she’ll need you, okay?”
“It frustrates me how you always manage to say the right thing.”
“You’ve known me for years now, it’s your fault for not getting used to it.” 
Jonathan laughs again and his shoulders relax, his anger and fear now dissipating. While he’s still unsure what tomorrow will bring, he knows that at least he’ll have you. Then the two of you drive past Steve’s house and Jonathan remembers how tired you sounded earlier on the phone.
“So, we gonna talk about why you had such a long day today?” Though it’s phrased as a question, you know that Jonathan understands if you don’t want to answer.
However, your own fears weigh heavily on your mind and you indulge him, because you always do. “Dustin intercepted a Russian code a few days ago and roped Steve, Robin, and I into helping him decipher it.”
“A Russian code?”
“Yeah. Not sure if I can explain it any better than that, honestly.”
Jonathan raises his eyebrows at you. “Is it anything dangerous?”
“I don’t know,” you groan, dropping your head into your knees. “That’s the million dollar question right now. Dustin and everyone else wants to keep investigating this, they want to break into a goddamn vault, and I just… I have a bad feeling about this, bee.”
“What does Steve think about all of this?” His voice is light, but his hands tighten ever so slightly on the steering wheel. You see this and look away, knowing he won’t like what you’re about to say.
“He’s why I sounded so tired earlier,” you confess, eyes closed. “He wouldn’t listen to me tonight, and I just–”
You stop mid sentence, your words catching in your throat. Jonathan looks over at you with concern and makes a quick decision to pull to the side of the road and park. “Hey, bug. Look at me.” Swallowing back tears, you do as you’re told. When your eyes meet his, Jonathan brings your hand to his lips. “Talk to me.”
“I’m terrified he’ll be another ‘almost.”
Jonathan’s lips ghost over your hands and you feel his breath stutter slightly at your words. He knows the pain that comes with “almost”, he knows he’s the reason why the word stings your tongue as you say it out loud. “He’s not another ‘almost’, Y/N.”
“I don’t know anymore.” Tears start to fall down your face and you’re mortified. You hate the words coming out of your mouth, they feel like a betrayal to Steve and the promise you made him, and you hate that you’re saying all this to Jonathan. “He–he seems interested, sometimes, but it’s July now and–and he hasn’t… He couldn’t even look me in the eye tonight, Jonathan.”
Jonathan doesn’t say anything. He can’t say anything. 
You’re crying in his passenger seat over a boy you love, a boy who isn’t him, and all Jonathan can do is hold your hands as you cry. 
“I’m sorry, bug.” He apologizes for more than just your upset over Steve. Jonathan apologizes for it all, for the years between you two, for the almosts and what if’s and missed chances.
“Yeah. I am, too.” You wipe your eyes, embarrassed now. “Can you, uh, take me home, please?”
Jonathan nods and wordlessly starts the car again.
It feels like last year, back to being unsure about love and relationships and being exhausted by it all, and you can’t help but laugh at the irony of it. The small laugh turns into a louder one, then into full body hysterics, and Jonathan worries for a second that you’ve lost your mind. “Y/N, you’re scaring me a little.”
You clutch at your stomach and laugh even harder. “S-sorry, I just–oh my god. I can’t believe I–I’m here again.”
“I’m lost.”
“Just drive, bee.” You try to calm yourself down, though giggles still rise through your chest. You think you’re delirious, honestly. 
Yet some things never change, and it feels good to be in Jonathan’s car and breathless from laughter, even if your heart aches as you do so. 
-
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alwayscorvus · 6 days
Text
Forced Marriage
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Forced Marriage
Jing Yuan x male reader, fluff;
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This day has finally come. Day when you and Jing Yuan were going to get married and fulfill your parents' promise.
Several years had passed since signing the agreement as children. Your parents long gone from this world. You both have earned a good name for yourselves. But despite the huge period of time and all your achievements, you have forgotten about one and most important thing. Or you may have actually done it on purpose. You haven't built a bond expected for future partners. You haven't gotten to know each other. You haven't even met. Not counting a few important occasions, banquets or incidents, at which you never exchanged more than two sentences. You knew your current appearance only from paintings.
But now it was all about to change.
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You adjusted the collar of your white shirt in the mirror and sent your reflection a hesitant glance.
Suddenly you heard a creak of an opening door. You turned rapidly and your eyes caught a glimpse of a figure of the man that you were supposed to marry in next few hours.
You swallowed a lump in your throat. Weirdly terrified. A feeling once completely unfamiliar to you.
You kept watching as Jing Yuan made his way down the grand, snowy white, marble staircase, positioned in the center of the room. He was moving with incredible elegance. His hips gently swayed from side to side in the rhythm of lions' tails that confidently hunted his prey.
Right behind your fiancé his butler followed. His movements were much more clumsy, struggling to keep up with his master.
-It's a honor.
Said Jing Yuan, bowing low as he finally managed to reach you.
-My pleasure.
You answered with a fake confidence. You weren't sure what to do with yourself. Should you shake his hand? Give him a hug? Confess for how long you had been looking forward to this meeting? After all, you were going to spend the rest of your lives together. Completely inseparable.
Jing Yuan, however, seemed cold and reserved. Completely different from the descriptions. Although his face didn't show much, man didn't fail to send you an unfriendly glance.
You rubbed your sweaty palms against the sides of your suit pants. You really can't remember the last time you were so nervous. Have you ever been this way? Even when handling the biggest contracts on which your family's good name depended, you weren't this worried. Today, however, was very different. As well as the entire last week for which you couldn't sleep.
-Misses Xiǎo Huì probably warned you that it's not gonna be anything big. Everyone will find out about our new status eventually, but I don't want to make a ceremony that shakes whole Xianzhou Luofu. I prefer to let this matter pass as quietly as possible. We came to the conclusion that my marriage... precisely this marriage, may not have the best impact on my position as Charioteer.
Ah, of course. Over those past years since Jing Yuan was a small child, he was able to completely turn around his family's luck and become a Charioteer. He chose a path completely different from his origins.
While you were enriching and expanding a company passed down from generation to generation, he was starting from an absolute scratch. Literally. Because at the time all his family had to offer were debts.
Although you admired his achievements and hard work, you probably would have preferred if he had remained as an ordinary, average Jing Yuan. Or at least if he hadn't been in charge of all citizens… That would have been much more simpler…
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Ceremony passed quickly. Too quickly. Whole concept was so abstract to you that you weren't even able to recall whole time spent on all activities. At first you didn't want to interfere in the course of your wedding. You thought that you would let Jing Yuan take the lead and carry it out in any way he wished. However now, you regretted that deeply.
Before you knew it, you got your blessings from all the important figures in Xianzhou Luofu and beyond. While your hands grabbed brushes and signed all needed paperwork.
In the end, inspired by a foreign tradition, you exchanged rings. You needed something that at first glance symbolized and proved your relationship.
However, your movements were completely automatic and not tainted by any feeling. Deep in your soul you laughed bitterly at this.
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-This is our shared bedroom - he announced, pointing at the room with a gentle nod.
You looked around in astonishment.
Huge, shadowed bedroom, without any natural light source. Only with candles alone. Candles that emitted a cozy warmth. In theory.
Major attention was focused on a large canopy bed placed in the center. Covered with thick layers of duvets in plum and burgundy colors. Whole place almost screamed with splendor. And was definitely different from a traditional bedroom in these regions. It was most likely a former guest room for high-ranked foreign heads, who felt uncomfortable in an unfamiliar environment.
And this suggested that Jing Yuan didn't want to sacrifice his private bedroom for your shared abode.
-Of course, only for now. Until public interest dies down. If something were to leak outside the gates of this building, we would probably prefer for it to not be an unfavourable gossip, right? -he asked almost cockily- I think that in a few months… Maybe a year or two. We will be able to split up and go our separate ways. I'll take one wing and you will take the other. We'll pretend that it's more convenient for our work. Although… I don't think we'll have to pretend.
You were stunned.
So this is how your marriage was supposed to look like…
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-But isn't that better? I mean... you know, you don't even swing that way.
You had just finished venting about your worries over a bottle of soju, when your friend decided to bring you back to reality.
You looked at him dumbfounded. But still, you let him continue. Especially after he poured you another glass.
-Since he is not really interested and calls it just a deal, you can treat it like that too. Say that in the eyes of the public you will play a perfect, compatible marriage couple, and in your own four walls you will lead separate lives. You will find yourself some nice chick, flatter her a little bit and-
You growled in disappointment.
-First of all: fact that Jing Yuan is a man is actually the least of my problems. Secondly, I'm not a cheater. Even if for him it's just an arrangement, for me it's still a certified marriage signed by two fully aware people. Even if nothing happens between us I'm not planning to find anyone else.
Your friend just waved his hand at this and ordered another two bottles of drink from a passing by waitress.
-Do you want something more to eat? - he looked at you with expectation. You merely nodded. You didn't care about the food. You wanted to get back to looking for a solution to your problem as soon as possible - In that case I'll ask for another set of what we had before and maybe some more pork this time. Okay, cutie?
He gave a waitress a charming smile, and she, wholly covered in blush, curtsied and quickly ran off towards the kitchen. At the same time, you kept your focus on the slowly cooling grill that decorated the center of a table.
-Ahhh-… cause you always choose the path of this hopeless romantic. And where did that get you? -he pointed at you with disapproval- Look where you are now.
Your head collapsed on your hands, that were laying on the table. You started doubting the point of this meeting.
-Better tell me what to do to "get out of this place".
-I mean- you can wait, be patient. You can play the perfect and understanding partner, hoping that Jing Yuan will one day reciprocate your feelings. But that may take years, or worse, never even happen. And you-… just look at yourself. You are helpless. Lets be honest, you aren't patient. Or at least not anymore in that case. Especially after so many years of waiting. So we need to try a different approach.
-But what kind of?
-Well… -man smiled menacingly- Time for a shock therapy.
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"If you are legalny his husband and if you want to be his husband just act as his husband. In the end he doesn't really care."
You weren't sure if this was the best advice you'd ever heard, but you still decided to get swept away.
Which led you to this very moment.
-I promise, I'm gonna be gentle.
Jing Yuan looked at you with suspicion.
-It's not like I'm gonna do anything bad to you - you said slightly devastated- We are partners, remember?
Jing Yuan only furrowed his eyebrows more. He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight from leg to leg. Behind his back you could almost see an imaginary lion's tail that dangerously wagged in rhythm of Jing Yuan's excessive stomping. It wasn't hard to see that your husband was now seriously considering all the pros and cons. When you waited like on tenterhooks, clenching your thumbs tightly.
-Alright.
He decided dryly and without a long delay sat down on the edge of your shared bed. Probably out of all ideas and demands that you could come up with, this one was not the worst and relatively harmless.
Not wanting to miss the opportunity, you took a seat right behind his back in the blink of an eye.
With shaking hands you grabbed the ribbon that kept his hair tied. You pulled on it gently. Ribbon untied itself smoothly and slipped onto a duvet, without much resistance. Hair, that had been pinned up for whole this time, gracefully spilled on all sides. Thrilled with admiration, you began to gently caress them. In touch they resembled a most expensive silk. They were so delicate that they were just slipping through your hands. You dipped deeper into the snow-white ocean, feeling so pleasant that you wished for it to never stop.
-Do you ever plan to start? -he asked without much patience.
Startled, you almost jumped up. You completely lost yourself in the pleasure, forgetting what you were actually supposed to do.
You grabbed a comb and separated a small part of Jing Yuan's hair.
-How many braids will be fine?
-Do as you wish.
He waved his hand as if shooing away an annoying bug. Jing Yuan probably wasn't aware of your capabilities and had already put himself in a losing position for today. You cheered deeply at that. Since you didn't get a limit you won't restrict yourself either. You will prolong the moment as much as possible.
As you brushed his hair, you also gently massaged his head, which apparently must have appealed to him. Because after a few minutes he forgot to hold back and kept bringing his head closer towards your hand, whenever it moved just a little bit away.
Maybe your ears were playing tricks on you, but you could have swear that in every few minutes you heard a quiet cat's purr.
But you didn't even dare to bring up this subject.
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-Huì Fēn?
Jing Yuan's butler paused his hand on a doorknob and turned towards you surprised.
-May I have a question for you?
Trying to relax and focus your attention on something else you began to blindly sort through the papers that were lying on your desk.
-Of course, Sir. How can I help you?
He quickly straightened himself and clasped his hands behind his back.
-It's about Jing Yuan.
Butler's face instantly turned pale.
-I know you have been by his side for many years, you met while you were still in the army… He can always count on your and he has a great trust in you. He has surely entrusted you with more than one secret…
-What do you want to imply by this, Sir? -eventually, he was unable to endure your words. Although his voice was still flawlessly calm.
-Does-… does Jing Yuan have someone? Or-… had someone?
Butler looked at you slightly stunned.
-I can swear that if it's true I won't do any harm to any of them. I just-… I just want to know…
You threw your hands and slightly depressed, sank onto a wooden furniture. You knew that Huì Fēn was not on your side. That he could have told you anything. And lie without hesitation. Anything to avoid harming his rightful Master. And moreover, to help him as much as possible.
But slowly you were beginning to feel exhausted. Long weeks started to pass since your wedding.
Huì Fēn smiled at you with pity.
-If it's about that, I can certainly assure you that you don't need to worry, Sir. Master Jing Yuan has never opened his heart to anyone. And that's what may be your biggest problem, Sir…
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Your friend was right. After all, you weren't into men.
Sure, because of a contract made by your parents, you never got yourself into a relationship with anyone. But if you were to hang your eyes on someone in the past, before meeting Jing Yuan, it were always the females. You never imagined yourself with a man before, but you understood that it was bound to happen. And the fact that this someone was your spouse made this act seem neither so distant nor so unpleasant. Slowly, you even began to convince yourself to it. And you weren't doing it against your will. Jing Yuan was actually starting to attract you, despite his flaws, despite his cold attitude towards your relationship. Your feelings were above such a mere things as gender.
You turned from side to side. You really couldn't fall asleep. At first, Jing Yuan stayed up late studying papers and defense plans spread all over the bed. Which actually was your fault, since you insisted on him not doing this in his office but beside you. And after, when he finally decided to go to sleep, your started to overthink.
You almost wanted to growl out of frustration.
However, time to put the next stage of your plan into action has come.
Recent events didn't really bring Jing Yuan close to you, even when there were a lot of them, especially at shared meals.
But you won't give up so easily.
Somewhat timidly you began to move towards your partner. Slowly testing the waters. At first it seemed that you would succeed without any difficulties. At the end, however, things took a different turn.
-Despite so many layers of sheets, you are going to pretend that you got cold?
His clear voice pierced through the entire bedroom and echoed in a silent night. Yet Jing Yuan didn't even budge by millimeter. He also didn't turn to face you.
-So that's why there are so many of them? You wanted to separate yourself from me by them?
Jing Yuan didn't respond to that.
Seeing no objection, you gently lifted your left hand and put it on the sheets where his waist was. Successfully moving a couple inches closer and snuggling your chest into his back.
-You're really hoping that I'll get used to your presence and that's how you'll make me fall in love with you?
He worked you out. And at the same time he was so calm.
-So you give in to the possibility of falling in love with me?
Jing Yuan didn't say anything more. Nor did he push off your hand or move away.
That's not the end of the story…
I will write a sequel someday, but for the time being I don't have a slightest idea when it will happen. So it may take a long time...
270 notes · View notes
m30wk1ttycat · 5 months
Text
tough love
contains: teenagers being teenagers, cuss words, dirty thoughts, kissing, enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption mentions, smut ig?, getting caught sort of. pairing: newt x reader. summary: you're a med-jack. its almost impossible to ignore newt, always lingering somewhere in the corner of your eye. you hate him, or so it seemed. he hated that, so he decided to confront you about it, maybe force an answer out of you. word count: 1500, give or take.
you and newt had a bit of a rivalry going on. or at least, it seemed like it was rivalry of sorts.
"y/n."
"no," you murmur, trying to assemble some papers and whatever else it was that was on the table.
"please," he pleaded, leaning on the doorway.
"no."
this was just one of you guys' average conversations. you trying to do your job as a med-jack, newt trying to help you with whatever you were doing.
"are you sure?" he asked, still insisting on helping. you'd think he was in love with you or something - which wouldn't be too far off the truth, in all honesty.
"positive," you say, looking up at him from your place at the desk.
he was just so infuriating, persistent on helping with anything you did. everyone in the glade thought that it was just newt being sweet, but you were almost sure it had much more reason to it.
almost.
bandaging chuck's sprained ankle, he just had to walk in.
"need help?"
you roll your eyes in silence.
"thanks, but i'm good right now," you say, smiling. a smile so fake, even you couldn't recognize yourself. a smile you had to keep on your face for the sake of chuck. he was basically your little brother, why make it obvious you hated newt with all the strength you had?
"right," he muttered under his breath. finishing up chuck's ankle, you and chuck head out, completely ignoring his presence in the doorway.
"see you, then.."
"see ya, newt."
it didn't get any better when thomas arrived. the bonfire ended up being a mess to say the least. thomas got his ass beat by gally. and who tended to him? you. jeff had a headache that morning, hungover. clint overslept and skipped the entire bonfire last night. it was odd, because who would want to miss a bonfire night?
newt and thomas both got to the med hut/med-jack hut (i don't even know what to call it anymore). newt was there just to explain what happened, but it wasn't like you weren't aware. you were also there, after all. getting drunk and chatitng with the runners and the jeff, talking shit about the clumsy gladers who stumbled into the circle, who then got their faces bashed in by gally. it was bonfire night. you normally wouldn't even attempt to spark up a conversation with the guys who were most often in the med hut, unless they were injured and you had to take care of their injuries. no one was acting like themselves. but it was bonfire night, yay!!
"geez," you say as you sit him down, newt staring at you from across the room. "he didn't go easy on you, did he?"
and he, indeed, did not. he had several cuts on his forehead from falling, a busted lip and a bruised forehead.
"guess not," thomas shrugged, not wincing or anything. he kept calm, as calm as he could manage to be.
as you clean up the cuts and scrapes and whatnot, you could almost feel newt's eyes burn holes into your back. ignoring that feeling, you were done. thomas got up, smiling. you say your goobyes and thank yous, newt glaring daggers.
just as thomas left, smile still on your face, it quickly faded once you basically got body slammed by newt against a wall.
"why do you hate me?" he asked, frowning. "and don't say that you don't, we both know that's not true."
"newt," you breathe out.
"what is it that i'm doing wrong?" he was being harsh and he knew it. maybe pushing you and pinning you against a wall wasn't exactly his most isaac newton idea? "answer me."
you look away. the result of that? newt pressing you against the wall even harder, your wrists above your head, held together by his hand, his other leading your face upwards to meet his eyes.
"look at me. y/n."
"i am."
it wasn't like you had much of a choice anyways. he pressed his hips to yours, still waiting for an answer. he wanted you to say something. anything, really. just something to prove you weren't dead or slowly passing. though, his hopes were crushed when you stuttered your words.
he let out a breath, leaning his head down right above your shoulder.
"don't be so difficult, there's no need," he said, harshly so. he waited for you to react, only to be met with a small whine coming from your lips as you tried to free yourself. it was no use, he knew that, you should've, too.
your faces mere inches away.
"let me make this clear," he breathed, his lips inches from you, close enough to feel his hot breath on your skin. "i like you, y/n."
he liked you?
HE LIKED YOU??
he glared at you as affectionately as he could, trying hard not to seem like a bitch with the way he was holding you, smushed between him and the wall.
just like in every book, movie, fanfiction - the tension was there. the chemistry was there. the moment was there. the sparks, the butterflies, the way it felt like you were the only two in the world at that moment.
with a grunt, you tilt your head up to look at him, struggling to even talk with his hips propped up against your own, harshly so. "newt," you breathed, "i don't hate you."
"sure you don't," he said, furrowing a brow at you. he kept your wrists above your head, as much as you wished he'd let go. and the harshness of his hips against yours wasn't easing up. at all.
you roll your eyes, trying to look away to hide the blush on your cheeks, but his hand on your chin stopped you before you could even blink, his hand holding both of your wrists captive.
"if you don't hate me, why do you ignore me?"
you let out a whine, "ow-"
he tilted his head to the side, letting go of your wrists. he looked away, smirking. "sorry 'bout that."
he wasn't sorry and you knew that. he wasn't sorry. not one bit..
he also knew that.
and he also knew you couldn't just back away. literally - he had you pinned to a wall in the med hut, where probably anyone with a medical problem could walk in. anytime, too.
"you're making it hard for me to do my job.."
and it wasn't the only thing hard in the room, if you catch my drift. wink wink.
"so what?"
you're almost sure that he's just doing this rile you up, make you hate him even more, when deep down, it only made you want to fuck the life out of his pretty face even more than before. (meow)
"y/n, i love you. more than anything and anyone in this shucking place, really," he confessed.
"i love you too," you mumble under your breath, barely coherent enough for him to hear.
he shook his head, rolling his eyes, trying to seem as annoyed as he could. as much as he tried, the smile forming on his face failed him.
"shut up, i love you more." he pushed your hips back with his a bit. a deep brown gaze, pupils blown wide, he whispered something along the lines of "i'm getting sick of this". and before you could even process what he said, his lips met your in a passionate kiss. his lips tasted like fresh strawberries, a small hint of the moonshine from lat night during the bonfire. maybe he was still a tiny bit drunk, maybe not, but that didn't stop you two from making out in the med hut.
needy, sloppy kisses. hickeys on your neck here and there. newts hips rock, slowly, teasingly, against your own, the friction between you making for delightful shivers rushing through his body. his hands find purchase in your hips, pressing you harder against him as he sucked dark blotches onto your neck. you could feel the growing bulge against your inner thighs. desperately, he kissed you again, nipping at your bottom lip. still, he was gentle. or at least trying to be.
how could he kiss you so fiercely yet so gently? was it the british charm?
whatever it was, you couldn't get enough of it. your mind couldn't either. it was concerning, how long he could go like this, sucking and nibbling at your neck like a snack.
too busy kissing him, you didn't notice minho in the doorway, waiting for you or just anyone to notice him. he stood there for a minute, eyes wide as he watched the second-in-command, his best friend, make out with you, the only available (not really anymore) med-jack.
he cleared his throat awkwardly. "y/n," he called, "gonna pay attention to your patients or what?"
whoops, awkwaaaaaaard..
523 notes · View notes
notjustjavierpena · 7 months
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Longing
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This is a collection of !!!!5!!!! asks because y’all are desperate for Javier being a great husband and lover, and I am happy to give you what you crave.
Summary: You make love to your husband the first time after giving birth.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, breastfeeding, f masturbation, showering together, insecurity and nervousness, longing kisses and lots of them, body worship, breast play, lactation kink, javier is HUNGRY, nipple play orgasm, checking in, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, clit stim, unprotected piv sex, emotional and desperate sex, creampie, crying and aftercare, sweet javi is here to make you comfortable and make you come 
Word count: 5.3k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53944708
Longing
Javier gets up early every day for work during your maternity leave and the routine is the same; coffee, breakfast, and a shower, and then he gets Lucas out of his bassinet so he can feel his son’s tiny body against his naked chest before he finally brings him to you because he knows you love bed-sharing with your newborn. It’s so you don’t miss me, he jokes each time after kissing your forehead, knowing that his son might as well be his clone, at least not too much.
You’re nursing Lucas as Javier gets dressed. Today will be the first break in your newfound routine, and you barely know how to begin. Something is playing on your mind and you distract yourself by running three fingers over Lucas’ head as he feeds, hoping it’ll make the words you’re about to say seem less clumsy.
“Javi,” you try to get your husband’s attention.
“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love)?” Javier is standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie. He looks at you through the mirror and smiles gently as he catches Lucas’ tiny hands reaching for your chest. You let the infant grab at your finger instead, warmth in your grin as you bond with him.
“I was thinking we could do something tonight,” you begin and your voice sounds almost absentminded. It feels silly to ask for sex when you think back to how ravenous both of you were before and during the pregnancy. Lucas is nearly two months old. You haven’t been intimate with each other for two months. 
“Do what?” Javier goes back to tying a knot on his ridiculously patterned tie. 
“You know…”
He tenses up, almost looking like when a cat’s ears perk up in interest.
“Is tonight the night?” He asks, catching on. He turns away from the mirror to face you, expectant but careful not to assume. 
“Two months,” you say simply, “I think I’m ready.”
“Two whole months. How the fuck did we manage that?” He snorts. You tut at his foul language but cannot help but smile since you know he is right. It boggles your mind too. 
“We’ll have to take it slow. Would that be okay?” You look down at Lucas as he gurgles slightly, moving him a bit in your arms. 
Javier finishes dressing for the day. He walks across the room and bends down over you, kissing your forehead, “Is it okay that I get to take care of my beautiful wife? I think I’ll suffer through it for you.”
When you tilt your head backward, he also kisses your mouth. You smile against his lips. You say, “I think you’re late for work.”
“And maybe I’ll go home early too,” he pecks your lips repeatedly, “Rush home and into the bedroom.”
“We’ll be waiting here for you,” you let him know. 
Javier runs a finger down over Lucas’ nose, “Your momma better change the batteries in the baby monitor, mijo (my son). We won’t have time to check on you as often.”
“Oh, just go,” you grin.
“Te quiero (I love you).”
“I love you too, now go catch some bad guys.”
Javier gives you one last kiss before he heads out the door, and it’s enough to leave you aching for another. He lingers until your breath is torn from your lungs, slips his tongue inside your mouth until you are reminded of what he can do with it, and his fingers slide through the hair at the back of your head - all he has to do is yank but he doesn’t, not with his baby in your arms.
“More later,” he whispers and your pulse goes south at the promise. 
“O-okay,” you only manage to stutter.
When Lucas has been put to sleep, Javier and you take a warm bath together to get you all relaxed. He helps you under the spray, guiding you into the cubicle by the hand, and smiles as you sigh deeply at the warm water. 
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he praises when you run your fingers through your hair as it wets. You give him a shy grin. He proceeds to kiss your neck, not caring about water running down over his face when his lips on your body make you less tense with nerves. 
You tilt your head back, letting out a sigh as he drinks in your skin, going upwards until it is your mouth he captures. His hands dig into your fuller hips, fingers denting what you call your baby weight and what he tells you he’d fall on his knees for.
“Can I touch you?” He asks when he needs air. 
“I’m nervous,” you answer truthfully. 
Carefully, as if seeking permission, he takes your hand in his own. He kisses your palm softly and you feel a spark of electricity in your belly, knowing that you are lucky that it is him who is here to guide you through this. He moves your hand down between your legs, “Perhaps… these gentle hands.” 
“You want me to touch myself?” You blink.
“Who would be better?” He grins boyishly. 
A part of you wants to say that you think he might know you better than you know yourself but there’s a plan here. You follow through, never breaking eye contact as you find your clit and start going in circular motions. It takes a second but when your body finally reacts, you let out a gasp at the flutter that spreads out from the little nub. 
Javier looks ravenous at having the privilege to witness you like this. He talks quietly over the sound of the water, and soon you feel his cock poke into your thigh, “That’s it, mi amor (my love). God, look at you. Doing so good.” 
“Javi,” you sigh gently. Your fingers speed up, feeling your heartbeat slowly increasing in speed. You chase your high, mouth slightly open and eyes locked on Javier’s.
“Yeah? You’re gonna make yourself come?” Javier’s hands find your hips again. He holds them in place, joins in the way that he can. You nod with a higher-pitched yeah, eyes falling closed during a louder moan.
Your fingers are more frantic after that. You touch yourself with him looming over you, core burning with need as you can feel his eyes bore into you. Your clit jumps occasionally as you work yourself toward the edge and a crease in your forehead forms. 
“I’m gonna— fuck,” you announce. The sound of water cascading down your body blurs until it becomes almost silent to your ears.
“Yes, you are,” his voice has dropped an octave, “Oh, you really are, aren’t you?”
And then you snap and the fact that it isn’t in privacy and that you have Javier swearing under his breath makes it feel incredible. You can feel your cunt clench from clit to slit repeatedly, seeking more than you can give at the moment but oh, it feels so good. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted your husband inside of you more, walls aching to be stretched.
Time stands still in the shower. You find yourself resting against the cold, tiled wall. Javier looks at you, has pushed his wet hair out of his face, and is smiling triumphantly, “Mi esposa hermosa (my gorgeous wife).”
You roll your eyes, cheeks heating up from both post-orgasmic bliss and sudden shyness, “It felt good. I don’t think you know how wet I am for you.”
“Well you are in the shower,” he jokes when he spots your restraint, hoping to get you to relax even further, and you step forward to punch him playfully. He shies away, laughing to the point where your head swims with love and tenderness for him. 
It ends up being an occasion to kiss once more. Javier holds your face, thumb smoothing over your chin as he slides his mouth over yours. You melt into him, holding onto both of his wrists as you suck on his tongue and it doesn’t bother you that you accidentally swallow a few droplets of water; his lips on yours make everything else fade. 
He has rarely kissed and touched you like this over the past few months, having agreed with himself to not tempt you too much with something that neither of you would have been able to follow through on, so the promise behind his touch - his hands are going down to your hips and your arms are linking together around his neck - makes you shiver as goosebumps rise on your skin underneath the hot spray of water. 
Eventually, you realize how hard he is and you almost feel bad for being so selfish but when you reach down, Javier stops you. 
“I can wait,” he promises, breaking the kiss to look down between your bodies. He twitches in your hand, even more when you reluctantly let go. 
“Javi,” you whine.
“I don’t want it to be over already,” he explains with color on his cheeks, “Think about how much we’ll enjoy it later. I’m sorry, mi amor (my love).”
“No, I understand,” you reply with a soft sigh, “I’ll make it up to you later.”
“Mhm, bet you will,” he hums and then drags you close to kiss you again.
You agree on finishing the shower and getting into your sleep clothes because Javier argues that it might help with your nerves to be undressed by him, a thing you absolutely love. You settle for a loose t-shirt - in case you have to nurse - and panties, something comfortable with an ability to leave the covered parts of your body up to the imagination.
Earlier, before checking on Lucas, you took painkillers to let your muscles relax even further. Now that they are working, you meet him in bed. He smiles at you as he sees you enter through the door and watches you come closer as he is sitting with one leg dangling from the side of your shared bed.
“Hey,” you say shyly.
“Come here,” he smiles.
You may have relaxed muscles but your heartbeat races in your chest, feeling like you might have butterflies trapped behind your ribs. Your body is humming as you crawl onto the bed, sitting on your knees in front of him. 
“You still want to do this?” He asks, taking one of your wrists in his hands. He rubs it with his thumb, giving you his usual concerned expression that could compete with that of a puppy. 
“Yes,” you confirm, leaning forward to initiate a kiss. 
He catches on quickly and meets you halfway. He tastes like toothpaste, kissing you softly at first before he grows hungry from having denied himself during the first touches in the shower. 
You sling your arms around him, just about to be bold enough to straddle him but he is quicker, and suddenly flips you around until your back hits the mattress and makes you bounce slightly. You respond with a half-yelp, half-giggle, and try to ignore any anxiety that might arise. 
However, any noise quickly dies in your throat because Javier moves on top of you. He moves close until you can get drunk on his scent, inhale the distinct smell of only him that gets you so high because you know it’s only you who gets to be so close to it. You can feel your heartbeat in your sex, your underwear starting to dampen. 
“You know I struggle to be gentle,” he rasps against your ear, placing a lingering kiss right below it to make your heartbeat spike. His hands curl around the bottom of your t-shirt. He pulls back to look at what he is doing to you and for a moment, you think he might rip the fabric apart from the way his nails dig into it, the same urgency in his eyes like someone who has gone without food and drink for weeks and is now looking at a whole buffet, “When it’s been so long since I have had you like this.”
You hum in understanding, mouth slightly open and squeezing your legs together with a sigh, causing Javier to look down between your legs. He looks like someone who is making a plan, a list of steps forward about what he wants to do to you. You can only wait in anticipation.
Your top comes off then. He yanks it upwards and you lift your arms above your head to help him rid you of it completely. Your tits bounce slightly as there is nothing to hold them anymore, and Javier groans at the sight of you. He practically latches onto your neck, sucking his way down your throat until he has made a trail of glistening spit down over your shoulder, your collarbone, and finally down between your breasts. It’s nice but it’s a lot.
“Stop,” you say to him as he seems lost in the moment. You rest your hands on the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the soft curls there. He lifts his head to look at you, and you smile gently. Your face feels hot, “I need you to go slow… Sorry, I’m not ruining it, am I? I just told you to stop…”
“What? No. No, mi amor (my love),” he reassures but even if his kisses have made you wet, you feel overwhelmed with the idea that things might not be the same ever again. You shift slightly underneath him, and he presses a soft kiss to your collarbone whilst watching your expression in case it’s still uncomfortable for you. 
“I think it might take a while for me to be ready tonight, I can’t just jump back in,” you swallow after confessing it but Javier nods in understanding. 
“That’s okay, baby. It’s only been two months,” he crawls up to hover over you, abandoning whatever he was doing even if he was enjoying it, and you still rest your hands on the back of his neck. 
“I mean you’re so,” you decide to feed his ego to make your reluctance up to him even if it’s not necessary, “… Big.”
Javier snorts. He seems to find it more funny than flattering, “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” you giggle, “Biggest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Listen,” he turns serious, resting on one of his forearms to reach for your hand on the back of his head. He pulls it down so he can hold your hand in his. He entwines your fingers, “Do you want to stop? I won’t get angry at you.”
“And not even try?” You avoid his gaze.
“Hey, mírame (look at me),” he replies and you do, “If that’s what you want. No matter what you say, we made progress tonight.”
“I masturbated in the shower,” you deadpan. 
Javier laughs but he kisses your lips a few times, “And it was fucking sexy. I’ll be satisfied with just watching that for the rest of my life if I had to, but I do like the thought of Lucas not being an only child.”
“Slow down, Peña,” you teasingly scold him, feeling your anxiety fade as he makes you laugh and thus relax, “You just got your first baby. I am not a factory.”
“What are you then?” He wiggles his brows.
“Your wife,” you say with a grin. 
“Oh, right, that’s right,” he moves to kiss your neck again and you find that you let him. He moves slower than before, trailing his lips across your throat from one shoulder to the other. He takes his time and doesn’t rush the way that he probably would like to, “That’s right, you’re my wife.” 
“Husband,” you moan softly and feel him smile against your skin. He goes further down and goosebumps rise on your skin when the flat of his tongue licks around one of your nipples. You push your chest out, needing more because it starts a fire in your belly. To think that he hadn’t even gotten this far just moments ago. 
“You like that?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the side of your right breast. He looks up at you through his lashes before he licks the little nub again, it has hardened into a peak. The nerves are so sensitive there now that you are breastfeeding, and you hadn’t even given it a second thought that it could be something to enjoy with him. 
“Yeah,” you sigh and stare down at the top of his head. He moves to bend your legs, spreading them apart so he can lie down between them and kiss your tits. 
“I can’t wait to see how wet this’ll get you, baby,” he murmurs as he concentrates. He starts with the right side, letting his mouth fall open until he can press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your nipple and suck just a little as he pulls back. He does it again. You curl your toes and whine. 
“Oh,” you are panting already from the connection it appears to have with your cunt, “Keep going.”
Javier doesn’t hesitate. He skims his hand up and down your side until he dares cup your breast, looking up at you for confirmation that you aren’t uncomfortable. You bite your lip and nod. 
Your husband applies the gentlest amount of pressure. He doesn’t remove his hand again, keeping your breast in his palm as he takes your nipple between his lips once more. However, this time he sucks without pulling away, and much to your surprise, as he massages you too, you feel a few drops of milk slip into his mouth. 
“Javi!” You say in a horrified voice, starting to squirm, “I’m so sorry. Oh my God, ohmygodohmygodohmy—“
But Javier only seems to be spurred on by this. In fact, he starts to coax out more milk to satisfy the hunger that he didn’t even know he had in him. You hear him mumbling something, telling you not to worry about it. He sucks, laps, and catches each drop that escapes his mouth and streaks your beautiful chest whilst your eyes roll back and your clit throbs. 
Your hands find his hair. You tug without making him pull away from you, and pressure builds as his skilled tongue moves in circles around your now-puffy nipple. He takes the peak between his lips again and again, the sound of wet kisses towards skin filling the room, and he drinks like he is parched. 
Eventually, you feel too tender to go on and something inside of you fears that you might actually come from this even if it seems ridiculous to be terrified of that happening. You don’t think you have ever had breasts this sensitive in your life, and whilst it has been nice for you to have Javier pay attention to your chest, this is new territory and it’s overwhelming above all else. 
The grip you have on his hair intensifies, “Baby. Can you switch? I’m getting sore.”
“Of course,” he draws back slowly and gently noses along your spit-slicked nipple and presses one last soft kiss. You twitch underneath the touch. 
“Javi,” you stress. 
But he follows through and switches over to the left. The sensation of him using his tongue on you here as well is exquisite, eliciting a string of higher and higher moans from your throat. 
God, he knows what he is doing with his mouth and soon wetness has started to smear your inner thighs after seeping through your underwear. You know Javier will lose his mind when he sees it.
Though right now, he is busy as his tongue flicks repeatedly across the hardened nub. Milk trails down your stomach at first and then suddenly squirts when he pinches your right nipple without warning. 
“Oh!” You gasp and feel your pulse getting stronger between your legs. You lift your head, “Jesus. This is—“
“The hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he interrupts you as if he knows you are going to degrade yourself in some way. You were in fact going to call it messy. He kisses your breast open-mouthed again, sucking your nipple into his mouth until you give in to a moan, “¡Dios mío (my God)! You taste like candy. Sweetest fuckin’ thing ever.”
“You need to—“ you can barely speak as his tongue curls around your hardened peak. He flicks his tongue back and forth over it afterward.
“Yes?” He stops to let you talk and nibbles right at the roundness of your breast. 
“I can’t do this anymore, we gotta do something else or I’ll come,” you don’t even hear how absurd it is to make it sound like a problem. Below you, Javier nearly chokes at hearing that.
“Jesus, how devastating that would be,” he says sarcastically. With a quick glance up at you, he decides to keep going to which you do not protest. He lavishes you with nips and sucks, building something low in your belly, “Then come, mi vida (my life).”
You try to catch your breath as your cunt pulses but suddenly an orgasm crashes over you and makes you lose it altogether. There’s milk everywhere. You cry for him after a moment of not being able to make a sound, hands falling to the sides so you don’t end up pulling strands of hair from his scalp. Your back arches, your throat scratches from the noise you make, and below you, Javier watches with absolute wonder.
“Are you okay?” He eventually asks, sitting up a little to follow your wishes if you should have any. When you don’t respond, too busy panting, he starts rubbing your thighs soothingly until you come back to him. 
“That’s never happened before,” you say, “I didn’t think…”
“Was it good?” He watches you with a tiny smirk.
You nod.
“Do you want more?” He continues. 
You don’t hesitate despite the circumstances. Twenty minutes ago, you would have doubted even being kissed. You nod.
“And what does my baby want?” He looks down between your legs. When you don’t reply, he starts suggesting things, “Want me to play with your perfect pussy? We can stop anytime you want.”
You whimper instead of using actual words. It’s now that you realize the pressure inside of you telling you how much you need to feel him inside of you, and you’ll take it any way you can. Perhaps it’ll be easier to start out this way. 
“Yeah?” He sounds almost a bit mocking, moving to stand on his knees between your spread legs, “That what my girl wants?”
“Yeah,” you reply breathlessly.
Javier swears quietly as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and watching the fabric cling to your wet seam. He inhales deeply as if to compose and behave himself, looking starved for more even as he already has a streak of white milk on his chin, “You are so goddamn wet for me, baby. She’s weeping, the poor thing.”
“Imagine how many men would worship the shape of your body,” he praises as soon as he has you naked below him, eyes glazed over by lust. He looks at you as if it’s the first time he has ever seen you, pupils dilated and mouth slightly open. You feel like a deer in the headlights of a car but you don’t dare interrupt him, don’t dare disturb the flow of words falling from his lips because they make your whole body burn with need instead of insecurity.
“I can’t believe that I was the one who got to make you my wife,” he tells you with a smile that shows you how pleased he is with himself as if it’s his greatest achievement - fuck everything else; the job, the money, the fame. He skims a hand over your belly before leaning down to kiss below your belly button, causing your muscles to jump underneath his warm mouth when he licks you clean of milk. Then his palm descends on your body, “Mhm, gonna show you how grateful I am. Stuff you full of my fingers.”
“Please,” you whine, jaw clenching as he slips a finger inside of you and tiny shivers seem unable to stop rolling over you. He straightens again to look at you for reassurance that everything is okay. You give him no reason to doubt.
After a few moments, he adds a second finger. He curls them upwards until he finds the little spot inside of you that makes you sing, and your hands grab at the sheets when he makes a come-hither motion over and over again.
“Javi,” you breathe desperately. 
“Yes?” He doesn’t halt, only slows down slightly to concentrate on what you are going to ask of him. The look in his eye tells you that he’ll give you anything. 
“I love you,” you moan towards the ceiling instead. The wet squelches of your cunt are obscene to listen to, bouncing off the walls along with your continuous gasping for air as he makes you unable to breathe properly. 
“I know, baby, I know. I love you too,” he grinds the heel of his hand down against your mound, reminding you briefly of how he made love to you the first time ever. He rubs your clit on the outside and works the pads of his fingers over your g-spot on the inside. Fast. The world fades away around you until you suddenly find yourself coming again, Javier’s eyes widening at how quickly you have gotten there once more, “Christ, baby. You are just insatiable tonight. Has it been too long?”
“I want you,” you completely ignore the question. You shake through your high, not even planning on begging but it’s almost too much not to have him fuck you, “I can— ah, I can take your cock. I can. Please. I need you inside of me.” 
Javier growls. He shoves his underwear down, moving on the bed for a moment until he is completely naked. You reach for him with newfound confidence, and he enters your embrace and slides both arms underneath you to hug you back. The kiss he gives you is so longing that you almost want to cry from all the emotion it exudes. He loves you so much. He would never do anything to hurt you. It is so clear at that moment. 
“Make love to me,” you moan into his mouth, thumbs drawing down the sides of his face until you can move your hands to the nape of his neck. He is warm against your chest, the curls at the back of his neck slightly damp from sharing your body heat for so long.
It takes a mere few seconds for him to reach down between your bodies. You make a little gasp as he pushes into you. He is slow in his movements, almost making it seem like he isn’t moving his hips forward at all, and he keeps his eyes on yours to make sure your face’s contortion isn’t because of pain. 
You grab at the pillowcase, clutching it into your grip as he fills you up. Your breathing is loud and hard, your eyes a little wider than usual. There’s a little resistance but you try to relax into it, accept his cock even if it’s with trembles of your body.
“This okay?” He asks with a voice that is marked by his own restraint. 
You nod repeatedly. You want to punch the bed. Instead, you reach to grab his bicep and hold on for dear life as he gets deep inside of you. You aren’t sure if you have overdone it by coming two times already because you are so sensitive, your walls fluttering around his length but oh, you want him so badly that you take it with your eyes rolling back into your skull.
After a few very long moments, he is fully inside of you. His chest rises and falls quickly, breathing strained because of how much he has missed being engulfed by your heat. You hold onto his arms which flex underneath your touch, and then he moves inside of you for the first time in two months. 
The cry that releases from your throat makes your voice break and Javier’s groan follows right after. You become a sweaty mess of limbs, clutching at each other as if you can’t get close enough. You pant his name, kiss him deeply, and dig your fingers into his skin hard enough to bruise.
“I’ve missed you,” you tell him through whimpers.
“You’re perfect, mi amor (my love),” he replies in a gruff voice, “I love to fuck you.”
Javier cannot help his mouth when you make him feel like this. He thrusts harder into you, moving his weight to his forearm so he can slide his free hand under you to press it against the small of your back. He lifts your pelvis into his own, arching you until no one would be able to tell where he starts and you finish. 
Then he speeds up his hips and you see stars. You throw both arms around him, holding onto your wrist to keep them there. He drives into you with determination to make you scream, and as you do, you try to imagine how beautiful his golden back is glistening with sweat. 
“Fucking love making you come,” he continues, planting a kiss on your jaw that was probably supposed to be on your mouth, “Over and over and over. Are you gonna come for me?”
“Yes, yes, God, yes, baby,” you can feel his pubic bone grinding into your clit, building your peak quickly, “Keep going— don’t, oh my God, don’t stop!”
“Wouldn’t dream— fuck, I wouldn’t dream of it, my love,” he sounds close to, giving you everything he has to make you tip over the edge a third time. He always tells you how much he loves you choking his cock until he spills inside of you.
So when you come, a hitched breath turning into a series of cries for God, he does too. It is two months of built-up tension and emotions, and you find yourself crying in his arms as waves of pleasure take hold of you and take you with them. You are gone, lost to the world of burning desire and ecstasy. 
After he pulls out of you, the sense of time is an unknown concept in the silence that follows. You cry quietly because nothing else can convey what you feel. After all, you feel so close to him again. Javier brushes each tear away with his thumb, murmuring soft and comforting words. 
“You did so good,” are the first words that actually make sense to you. He noses along your shoulder to kiss you there, “I don’t deserve you. You are the most beautiful woman in this world.”
You chuckle breathlessly but fresh tears just fall down your cheeks. Javier rolls off of you to make things less intense, looking at you from where he is lying on his side, “Don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry about. You were so beautiful.” 
“Sorry,” you say instantly and wipe tears away with the back of your hands. 
“No,” he objects, “That’s not what I meant.”
He is silent for a moment. Then he lays his palm on your stomach, “What do you need?”
“To pee and get cleaned up,” you feel embarrassed without knowing why, “My legs feel like jelly.”
“Fuck it, let’s see if mine do too,” he is on his feet before you can protest, telling you to scoot closer and when you do, he picks you up bridal style. 
He carries you to the bathroom, making a comment about your wedding night, and then lets you pee and wipes you down with a damp cloth afterward, both your sensitive cunt and breasts. You kiss him more times than you can count when he takes you back to bed again. 
In the morning, you watch him bounce Lucas in his arms when he thinks you are asleep. He is making funny faces and blowing raspberries on your son’s chubby cheeks, talking so gently that you can’t help but simply roll onto your other side, smile gently to yourself, and fall back into slumber.
.
.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 6 months
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Can we get a little 12 or 14 blurb from the clumsy prompt ☺️
number 14 for you lovely! “Hearing a crash or bang in the house and their partner isn’t in sight, cue immediate panic mode. meanwhile their partner just calls out casually that they’re okay or that something fell.”
There was a thump, a startling loud one, from upstairs.
Steve froze, eyes flickering upwards and his body tensing. Silence followed and the boy immediately dropped the spoon he’d been using to stir the macaroni, his shoulder colliding with the door frame in his haste to run to the stairs. His socked feet slipped on the floorboards, his brows knitted together in concern and as he reached the bottom of the steps, he called out, voice strained.
“Babe?”
He heard a small groan and some shuffling, his hand on the railing as he prepared himself to bolt up but your voice followed, suspiciously light and airy.
“It’s fine!” You called down to him. “Something just fell.”
Steve blew a breath from his nose, one eye twitching because he knew this, he knew you, but you were talking at least and that counted for something. His free hand went to his hip and if you’d seen him, you would have definitely called him a mother hen.
“Yeah?” He replied mildly. “Something fell?”
“Uhuh,” you shouted back. Something else clattered to the floor and Steve heard you swear under your breath.
He couldn’t see you from his position at the bottom of the stairs, but he could imagine your twisted pout, your pinched brows.
“Was it you?” Steve yelled.
A pause, a quiet bubble. He heard you sigh, long suffering and exasperated, a sign of you giving in. “Yeah,” you warbled, sounding incredibly mournful about your admission. “Yeah, it was me.”
Steve didn’t know if he should laugh or lecture you, so he just took the stairs two at a time instead. “You okay?” He asked as he made his way to the bedroom. He could see your shadow move under the door frame, so at least you had use of your legs. “You’re not bleeding, right?”
“God, I hope not,” you cracked. “M’wearing my favourite shirt— oh, hey.” Steve opened the door to you on the floor, crawling on your hands and knees you made a weak attempt to sweep up the fallen books.
“That’s my shirt,” Steve commented as he looked down at you.
You huffed, looking a little too warm and unharmed. No blood, no severed limbs. “I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you shot back, “I said it was my favourite.”
Steve snorted and held out his hands, grinning when you slapped your palms to his. He hauled you up, gentle as he examined you. No broken bones, no unfocused eyes.
“What did you do this time?” He murmured, taking your chin between a finger and thumb, tilting your head this way and that, checking for injuries. “Hmm? Apart from give me a damn heart attack.”
You frowned at the accusation, nipping at Steve’s fingers in response. “Couldn’t reach the top shelf,” you confessed. “Turns out I’m not eight foot tall and those shelves aren’t that strong.”
Steve gasped, all dramatic and faux surprise. “No way,” he whispered. “Who knew?”
You pulled a face, tucking your head into the crook of Steve’s neck and sighing. “Not me,” you mumbled against his throat, body going slack when the boy’s hands smoothed over the planes of your shoulders.
“Did know you have a boyfriend with much longer arms than you?” Steve mused. “He even played basketball.”
You grinned, pulling back from his embrace with a gasp as dramatic as Steve’s. “Oh my god, professionally?”
Steve’s eyes narrowed at you, an almost glare except his lips were lifting into a smile despite how hard he fought it. “Yeah, you seem fine,” he mused, nose nudging yours.
“I’ll still take a kiss,” you told him, grinning. “For medical purposes.”
And how could Steve say no to that? He wasn’t cruel.
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coolemmasulivan2 · 1 month
Text
Clumsy Woman
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Pairing: Rúben Dias x Reader
Summary: Your boyfriend doesn't like how clumsy you are, afraid you might seriously injure yourself.
Word count: 1976
Can't pretend to understand I'll be here to hold your hand I will wait for you, I will wait for you
You had been clumsy from a young age. Falling from trees, falling off bicycles, or simply tripping over your own feet seemed to be your speciality. It was during one of these graceful performances that you met your boyfriend, Ruben. You were barreling toward a magnificent face-plant when his strong arms caught you, saving you from certain embarrassment.
"I want to paint that wall!" You announced over breakfast one morning, your eyes sparkling with determination. "A deep blue, maybe."
Ruben raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the wall. "That bookshelf has to go first." He pointed out. "It's heavy. We can do it together this weekend." He kissed your forehead and grabbed his keys. "I have to go!"
"Bye." Your attention was still on the wall and Ruben knew what you were thinking.
"Don't do it!" He called out as he reached for his bag. "Wait for me."
"But it's my day off!" You protested, already picturing the transformed wall. "I can at least start." Ruben gave you a look. "Fine." He gave you one final kiss on the lips and then left for training.
You didn't like to stay still at home. There was always a compulsion to be busy, so when boredom crept in, your eyes fell on the wall, then the bookshelf. Maybe it wasn't that difficult. With a burst of energy, you dashed out the door to buy the paint and everything you needed to paint the wall.
At home, you slip into old clothes and turn up the music. The bookshelf was packed with your books and Ruben's trophies. He'd be furious if he saw you right now, but you would prove you could handle it alone.
The bookshelf, a dark wood monster that dominated the room, had been a custom order. You started by emptying it, a task that required more muscle than expected. Then came the acrobatics. With much effort, you managed to slide a rug under one end. But as you attempted to repeat the same on the other side, disaster hit. Your hands slipped and the bookshelf came crashing down on your bare foot. A scream ripped through you as pain exploded.
"Don't do it!" Ruben's words echoed in your head. He was so going to kill you.
With a grunt of effort, you lifted the bookshelf off your foot. Pain shot through you as you collapsed to the floor, cradling your injured limb. It looked horrific, swollen and red. Trying to stand was a mistake, as a fresh wave of agony crippled you. You couldn't walk.
"Oh God, oh God!" Panic set in. Your phone was fumbled out of your pocket. You needed help, and you needed it now. Ruben wouldn't be home for hours. Calling an ambulance was the only option.
Ruben stepped into the locker room, and he heard the insistent vibration of his phone. "That thing hasn't stopped ringing." Bernardo commented, a grin spreading across his face.
Ruben's brow furrowed as he glanced at the caller ID. It was Lily, your best friend. "Hey, Lily, everything okay?"
"Hi Ruben, sorry to bother you, but I was supposed to meet Y/N at your place, and she’s not there and a neighbour mentioned seeing an ambulance at your building." His blood ran cold. "Do you know what happened?"
"I can't believe her!" His voice rose in frustration. "She wanted to paint the wall, the one with the bookshelf. I told her not to touch it!" A wave of dread washed over him.
"She probably didn't listen. Oh God." Lily knew you better than anyone. Your stubborn independence was legendary. "I've tried calling her, but no answer."
"Let me take a shower really quick and then I'll call you back."
Bernardo and Walker exchanged concerned glances. "What's going on, man? Your girl in trouble again?" Walker asked, his tone laced with disbelief.
"Looks like it!" Ruben replied, his voice rough. "She can't stay out of trouble for five minutes. Fuck." He desperately searched for the contact of his friend Eric who worked at the hospital. He answered on the fourth ring.
"Hey, mate, what's up?"
"Eric, man, sorry to bother you, I know you're working, but I need a huge favour." Ruben rushed out, his voice was laced with urgency.
"Shoot!" Eric replied, his tone professional.
"Can you check if Y/N was admitted to the hospital? I think she might have had an accident. Again." He quickly explained the situation, his voice rising with each word. Eric promised to check and call back in a few minutes.
"I'm gonna be quick in the shower." Ruben said, turning to his friends. "If Eric calls, can you answer? Please." Walker and Bernardo nodded.
He'd never showered so fast in his life. Emerging a few minutes later, Bernardo was already on the phone.
"I'll tell him, thanks, Eric," Bernardo said, hanging up.
Ruben's heart pounded in his chest. "So?"
"She's there. Broken foot, but she's okay." Bernardo reported.
"For fuck's sake."
You rolled your eyes as Ruben burst into the hospital room. His face was a mask of irritation. Lily, who'd arrived earlier, squeezed your hand in silent support before stepping back.
"Seriously, Y/n?" Ruben’s voice was dripping with disbelief. "I told you to stay put."
"I'm fine, thanks for the concern." You replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You loved him and knew he was worried, but sometimes it felt suffocating.
"A broken foot means you’re not." He disagreed. "Can’t you just stay still for one day?"
You didn’t want to argue, especially as he seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "I’m a grown woman, Ruben. I don’t need you to tell me to sit still."
"Well, you don’t act like one. Sometimes I feel like I’m dating a child." His response was harsh and unexpected.
Shock washed over you. Had he really just said that?
"Maybe you should break up with this child then. I wouldn’t want to keep the great Ruben Dias from the real women in the city." You retorted, your voice trembling with anger.
He ran his hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. He knew his words had been cruel, but his worry often manifested in this way. But breaking up with you was the last thing he wanted.
"You know that’s not what I meant-- what are you doing?" He began, but you cut him off as you tried to stand, to reach for the crutches. He pushed you back down, but you quickly pushed his hand away.
"Lily, can you take me home, please?" You asked, ignoring Ruben completely.
Lily, who had been a silent observer, helped you up.
"I can take you home!" Ruben offered.
"I don’t want you to take me home." You replied coldly. "You don’t have a car seat for a child, remember?"
Using crutches was something familiar. This wasn’t your first rodeo. You had broken other body parts before.
In the car, Lily broke the tense silence. "You know he’s just worried about you."
"I know, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat me like a child. "He has known since the beginning how clumsy I am. If he can’t handle it, maybe we shouldn't be together."
"Don’t say that!" Lily replied, her voice firm. "You two can't live without the other." Through the rearview mirror, you saw Ruben’s car following you. "I know it’s hard, but try to understand his point of view."
You looked away, trying to focus on anything but the conversation. You knew Lily was right. Ruben loved you, and his overprotectiveness came from that love. But it was hard to accept when it felt like he was suffocating you.
As the car pulled up to your apartment building, you felt a pang of sadness hit you. Lily opened your door, and carefully you stepped out. "Thanks for everything, Lily. I really appreciate it."
She smiled. "Anytime, Babe! Call me if you need anything, okay?"
You nodded and the the help of the clutches you walked towards the building entrance. As you turned around, you saw Ruben's car waiting for the garage door of the building to open up. You hesitated, looking at his car for a long moment before turning and going inside.
When you entered the house, you realised that your books were scattered like confetti, Ruben's trophies were still on the dining table, and the monstrous bookshelf stood there, a mocking presence in the room. It was impossible to clean it up. Not with your foot like that.
A few minutes later, Ruben entered the house and he looked around it. You were nowhere to be seen, but by the sound of the water running, he knew you were taking a shower. Without his help.
What if you fell? He shocked the thought out of his head. You needed space and he was going to give it to you. Kind of.
Jumping from the shower with only one foot and the other in the air, you dried yourself and put on your pyjamas. You felt like everything was hurting, but you had to prove a point to Ruben. You could do things alone without needing his help.
As you opened the bedroom door, the smell of the food hit you and your belly made a noise, not realising how starving you were. However what surprised you the most was not Ruben cooking but the fact the bookshelf was no longer on the wall that you wanted to paint, but the wall in front of it, with all his trophies and your books. Everything was really clean and the small lamp you had on the corner where you sat reading was welcoming.
The table was set, and Ruben was busy tossing salad at the kitchen island. When he saw you emerge from the bedroom, he paused, his expression softening.
"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentle, laced with concern.
You met his gaze with a cold stare. "Fine."
You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, walking around the kitchen with surprising ease on your crutches. Ruben watched your movements with a mixture of relief and worry.
He sighed, setting down the salad bowl. "Can we talk?"
You scoffed. "Are you sure you want to do that? You think talking to a child is easy?" Your voice was sharp, but a pang of hurt shot through you as the words left your lips.
Ruben rinsed his hands and pulled out two chairs. Gently, he guided you to one and sat down across from you. His hands rested lightly on your bare legs. "I'm so sorry for calling you a child. I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."
You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It still hurt." You mumbled.
"I know, I know. I've been overprotective." He admitted. "But every time you get hurt, it feels like my heart stops. I worry about you constantly. But calling you a child was wrong, and I'm truly sorry."
Your anger was slowly dissipating. You couldn't stay mad at him for long. He always knew how to break through your walls. "You're an idiot if you think this is the last time I'll hurt myself." You retorted, trying to sound tough.
He chuckled softly. "Let me be an idiot, then. I love you, you know that, right?"
Ruben's eyes held yours. Slowly, he leaned forward, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as his gaze lowered to your lips.
With a hesitant touch, his lips met yours. It was a soft and passionate kiss. As the kiss deepened, you felt a surge of relief and happiness wash over you. In that moment, nothing else mattered.
A small smile crept onto your face. "I know. I love you too."
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bettysupremacy · 9 months
Note
HI oh my goodness i just flashed through ur entire page (its LOVELY writing) and i desperately need more!! I noticed the lack of Remus request so here i am B)
OKAY could I request plot for before remus and the reader are together? Like how they came to be ^^ mm maybe like "coincidentally" him running into her at her favorite bookstore or coffee shop (ITS CLICHE IM SORRY BUT I LOVE THESE LOCATIONS) until he finally asks her on a date !! (and maybe his friends spying on him just becuase hehe)
thank uu
HELLO I appreciate the support and there definitely is a lack of Remus. It’s cliche BUT CUTE! thank you for the request babe!!
“But I can’t just.. talk to her.”
“Why not?” James deflates. “Girls love that!”
They sit at a tiny table, in a tiny bookshop, in an even tinier cafe built in. The air crackles with cedar wood and vanilla, swirling around his hazy mind. It’s cozy and intimate but he has no place to put his legs, he sits awkwardly, leg bouncing anxiously. It accidentally hits the table. Sirius flinches from his mug.
“I’ll scare her.”
“Well then,” Sirius stirs his coffee. “don’t be weird.”
They came to study- or rather Remus came to study and his shadows came along. It’d been fine at first, computer out, a quiet Sirius. But Sirius has never had the patience to play quiet for long, especially when James is near.
“Maybe I’ll just leave it..” Remus murmurs.
Two voices shout at him. “No!”
Remus flinches mouthing sorry to the people around him. Sorry students he’d burdened with his rowdy friends. Hands to a sticky table, he pushes up. “M’Kay, I’m going.”
His feet feel heavy. He wants to do this, he wants your number, but god he doesn’t want to do this. Rejection is enough, but rejection in front of his two best friends? Looking back at his table, James encourages him. Two thumbs up and a hopeful face.
“Oh, shit!”
He’s crashed into you.
“Oh,” you startle, stumbling.
James and Sirius sink into their seats behind you. “Wow.”
Remus stabilizes you. “M’so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he cuts you off.
“No seriously, shit, I’m sorry.”
You laugh, high and sweet. “I’m fine. At least there wasn’t coffee.”
“Has that happened?”
“Yes,” you breathe a laugh, dusting off your pants nervously. “before an interview.”
“That’s awful.” He’s genuine.
“It was kinda,” you ease. “they weren’t nearly as nice or attractive as you.”
He swallows. He thinks your pretty, very pretty. His eyes catch on your lips, your eyelashes. That’s a weird thing to notice, right? Eyelashes? He’s usually smoother than this, he wishes he was smoother than this. He’s embarrassed.
You flatten over his doubts like you can read his mind. “I’m clumsy, we can say this was my fault.”
“Noble.”
You shrug. “It’s not far from the truth.”
“Not very chivalrous of me.” He laughs a little.
“It’s okay,” you’re comforting, he likes that. “Did you need something over here?”
He scratches his neck, speaking before he can himself.
“Do you wanna,” he doesn’t know what to say. He started the sentence and backed out too late, but you stand there with patient eyes. He swallows a whine. “I’m usually a lot smoother than this, yanno?”
You laugh unabashed. “It’s okay.”
“Falling on you like a building threw me off, I’m sorry.”
“Let’s start over?” You ask. “What’s your name?”
“Remus.” He sounds a little more confident. “I was over there,” he points to James and Sirius who wave. “and I thought you were pretty, would you wanna get drinks sometime?”
You hold back a laugh at the formality of it all. “Yes, do you have a cell?”
“Yes.” He breathes, pulling out his small phone decidedly. He doesn’t rarely use it, ‘cept for plans. Skipping past texts from James, Sirius, Lily.. etc, he opens the little contacts icon. He doesn’t ignore them purposely, he just prefers to call.
“Here,” you smile, taking the phone from him gently. “this is where you can reach me if you want to buy me another cookie.”
He looks down, he hadn’t noticed the fallen treat.
“Don’t” you start firmly with an easy smile. “say sorry.”
He laughs, holding back another sorry. “I’m free tomorrow.”
“Perfect.” you reach down to point at the pen in his pocket. “Can I see that?”
He nods, pulling out the pen for you. It’d been abandoned at the same time he’d realized studying was no hope. His fingers brush against yours as he gives it to you, but you don’t let his hand far. Gently grabbing it, you look up at his confused eyebrows for a confirmation. A gentle can I?
“Oh,” he breathes, nodding. “go ahead.”
You take the pen to his skin and work the ballpoint over the rough surface. The ink bleeds into him as you write the address. You notice his scars, jagged deep tissue, and ignore them. His ears heat up. “Really good drinks here,” you explain “and next to a bakery.”
A laugh stumbles out of his lips before he can stop it and you look up to grin. “Noted.”
Letting his hand go, you watch him bring the scribble up to his eyes to read it. It’s messy but he thinks that has something to do with his scars rather than you.
“Time?” Remus asks, and you grab his hand again, writing a messy 8PM under your other ink marks. “I’ll uh see you there.”
“Perfect.”
He turns to walk, almost immediately turning back and grabbing your arm quickly. “Wait, what’s your name.”
“Y/N.”
“Remus.”
“I know.” You laugh.
He knows you’re not laughing at him, but he cringes anyway as he walks back, heavy with embarrassment, triumphant with the thrill of a date. the boys pat his back when he sits down.
“Poor thing.” Sirius consoles.
James scoffs. “He got the date!”
“But still,” Sirius sulks. “that was embarrassing.”
Remus glares. “Thanks.”
“Well go on,” James starts. “show us the writing.”
Remus sticks out his hand for the boys to see. They hum mildly, looking at him with approval. “Nice bar.” Sirius nods.
“Next to a bakery.” James affirms.
“I, uh,” Remus scratches the back of his neck. “made her drop her cookie.”
“You dickhead.” Sirius laughs.
“I didn’t mean to!”
He slumps in his chair as James hits Sirius. They argue, petulantly and boyish, and Remus looks away. You stand at the register buying a book he doesn’t remember you holding when he’d knocked into you. Smiling at the cashier you grab your change and the bag of goods you bought. He feels weird watching. This has got to be weird, right? But as you walk out, you glance to him, lifting your hand up to your ear during the doorbell chime.
Call me.
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profound-imagination · 3 months
Text
Birds of a Feather - Azriel Shadowsinger
A/N: Honestly, it's a bit of a mess, visions, switching POV's but I hope you enjoy.
T/W: Angst, Torture, Blood, Fire, Teeth etc.
W/C: 4.1K
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“Azriel? How? Elain?” those were the only three words you managed to string together as Cassian stood behind his wife who had just blown your life wide open. “I’m sorry, we all love you, we do, but Elain just fits with him, and someone needed to tell you.” Nesta told you as gently as she could, which, coming from Nesta, your eldest sister, was not very gently at all. You looked to Cassian instead. Cassian who had loved you like a brother, protected you like a brother since he had strolled into the Manor that day with Rhysand and Feyre, with Azriel. “But he fits with me, isn’t that what the bond is?” you had known it was him from the second you had fallen out of the Cauldron, dripping wet and shivering, covered in ice burns.
Nesta had said the Cauldron was scalding, you had experienced the opposite. Cassian was clearly struggling for words as he said, “Even the Mother can be wrong sometimes.” Tears welled in your eyes, “Elain? All this time?” Nesta nodded slowly. “Well, that seems about right, she always was the twin that had to have everything.” You said as you shook the tears from your eyes and straightened your spine. “Don’t do that.” Cassian said a tinge of warning in his tone, and you span on him, “Do what, Cass?” You demanded, “Don’t write yourself off like that.” You scoffed, “I didn’t write myself off, Elain did, Azriel did!” “Azriel did what?” Rhys asked, as if appearing out of nowhere, Feyre less than a step behind him as usual, Nyx in her arms, stretching towards you. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter!” You spat as you took your leave of the roof, completely ignoring your nephew.  
Typical, typical Elain to take yet another thing from you. As twins the two of you couldn’t have been more different, hel you didn't even look the same. No even then, even in the womb she took all the beauty and softness for herself, leaving you with sharp edges and gangly limbs. She was all feminine grace and you, well you just weren’t. You were awkward and clumsy and had no interest in men at all. Well not until a Shadowsinger strolled into your parlour room that fateful day and you had been captivated. You hadn’t been aware men could look like that. Well, he was a Male you supposed, a Fae Male. A completely different league than even the most handsome boy in your pitiful village. You swiped the tears angrily from your face as you stormed unevenly through the House of Wind when a hand grasped your upper arm and span you round. You watched angrily as the rest of the Shadowsinger emerged from his shadows that began to dance around you like you were an old friend they hadn’t seen for centuries. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, death lacing his voice. “Nothing, Azriel, don’t worry about it.” His grip tightened slightly, “Doesn’t look like nothing.” he said through gritted teeth. You yanked your arm out of his grip, “Really, it’s nothing, leave it alone!” you hissed as you stormed away down the hall.  
You barely saw him after that if you could help it. He’d enter a room, you’d leave. He’d show up to start training, you’d finish training. He didn’t seem to notice. Always two steps behind Elain. Elain was a different story. She seemed different these days, shifty. You didn’t trust her much before, but at least you had the weird twin bond back then. It was muted now. A side effect of the Cauldron or of her you weren’t sure. It wasn’t your problem for right now. You had begged Rhys for a task, a job, anything to get you away from Azriel for a while. Away from the constant embarrassment you felt when you looked at him. You had been so clear in your affections and now you just felt like a fool. Rhys had tasked you with going to the human lands, to check in with Lucien and his Band of Exiles so here you were, walking towards the human lands, refusing to be taken. You had just set up camp for the night when a voice on the wind caught your attention.  
Against your better judgement, you followed the voice towards a clearing. You ducked behind a crumbling wall as the voice became louder and became two separate voices. “Lovely Faun, what information have you brought me this time?” A voice older than the earth crooned. “Koschei, master, he still resists.” That was Elain’s voice, but it couldn’t be, not your sister, she would never align herself with Koschei, would she? “I made you girl, you called out in the Cauldron, and I answered. I made you a Seer, more powerful than those who came before you! You then came to me and asked if I could undo it, if I could make you human again and did I not tell you what it would cost?” You peeked over the wall and saw her, your twin, saw her nod. “The Shadowsinger.” She said quietly, “I was to seduce him, to keep him away from my sister before he realised, they are Carranam, what they could do together.” She said, surer of herself now. “You need him for part of your plan.” She finished. Koschei hummed his agreement to what she had said.  
 “Bring him to me, lovely fawn, he will follow you, but it is important it is only him you bring.” Koschei rumbled, “I shall use the singer, brother will fight brother and with that, the only people who could band together against me will fissure and crack, then the world will be mine!” Elain seemed to hesitate by saying, “How do you know he will follow?” Koschei let out a laugh before something invisible gripped you and dragged you towards them. “Because I have something he won’t hesitate to fight for.” Elain gasped at the sight of you. “He doesn’t know why yet, but he won’t hesitate to follow when you tell him I have her but follow and fight he will, for his Mate.” Elain paled, “Mate? You said they were Carranam?!” Koschei laughed again, “They are, Lovely Fawn, Carranam and Mates, it has been an age since our world saw such a pair and they cannot be allowed to connect as such.” His voice was sharp now, as if his patience was running out. “Bring. Me. The. Singer.” He hissed at your twin as you fought against the invisible grip he had on you. She nodded, not even looking at you before she scampered away.  
Koschei finally turned his attention to you, “So we meet at last.” He said, looking you up and down, “I won’t let you use him.” You hissed, he let out an amused hum, “We’ll see about that, Little One.” He said as he turned away from you and then everything went black.  
It took some time for your other senses to come back to you when your vision returned. The room you found yourself in was dank, dark, and smelled of mildew. There was a constant drip drip drip from somewhere you couldn’t identify, and the temperature chilled your bones. If Koschei was trying to use the cold to make you uncomfortable he would fail, not even your blood ran warm these days, not since the Cauldron. You thrived in the cold, which was ironic considering how many years your sisters and you had spent cramped in one bed, shivering, clinging to each other for the slightest modicum of warmth. Icy rage burnt through you when you realised your leathers were gone, replaced by a thin white night gown. “You’re awake.” that ancient voice washed over you. You tried desperately to move, to see him, but you were restrained in one place, arms above your head, locked into place. “Are you ready?” Koschei asked, his voice sounding smug. “Ready for what?” You hissed. He came into your view, “Reconditioning.” He simply said. “I have a question first though,” he continued, “Did you really think the Shadowsinger would choose you? So sharp with all those edges,” he said, looking you up and down distastefully, he had been the one to change your clothes then. “Compared to the Lovely Fawn, what are you?” You didn’t dignify his question with an answer, because truly, he had you there. Who were you compared to Elain? Azriel, despite how he saw himself, was a truly a great Male. He was loyal, kind, caring, he listened, he understood, and he fought to the for those he loved. The only people you had ever heard him speak ill of was his own, the Illyrians. He was beautiful, so much so he could give Rhysand a run for his money. You didn’t deserve him. The Mother and the Cauldron had been cruel to him, to burden him with you.  
Koschei seemed to get fed up of your silence, snapping his fingers in front of your face to bring you back to the present. “Let’s begin, shall we?” before you had time to react, he swiped his hand over your face, your eyes fluttering closed.  
“Y/N.” Azriel greeted in a voice that promised death. “Az? What’s happening?” You asked, panic seizing through your body. “You know what’s happening.” He stated, “You betrayed us to Koschei and now you’re paying for it.” His words were like a physical blow. “No! I didn’t! I would never!” He levelled you with a glare. “So we’re doing this the hard way again today then?” You tried to shake your head, but you were restrained, tied to a table. Fear flooded through you as you realised exactly where you were, his torture chamber, deep below the Hewn City. He was going to destroy you. “Azriel, please, you have to believe me! I didn’t!” He slammed his hands down on the table of weapons he was surveying carefully, the weapons clanging together at the impact. “Do not lie to me!” He snapped, “Cassian is dead! I was made to watch as they held Rhys down and removed his wings! As they took his power from him! I listened as Feyre screamed as they took Nyx from her!” You turned your head to the side as best you could and vomited. “If it wasn’t for Elain we’d have never known who betrayed us, who sent my family to slaughter!” Azriel had sunk so far into himself, so far into that icy rage that you knew there was no getting through to him. His brothers dead and mutilated, his beloved nephew kidnapped. No matter what you said, he was never going to believe it. He was going to cause you pain that no one else could ever be creative enough to come up with. “Please?” You whimpered, a single tear falling down your cheek as he advanced, a wicked blade held in his hand. You couldn’t stop the scream that left your throat as he sliced the points off of your newly fae ears.  
Your eyes came back into focus, pain radiating through you. Koschei was standing infront of you. “Poor little Fae, what did the Shadowsinger do to you?” You closed your eyes at the onslaught of memories that hit you, of the last few hours you had spent with Azriel. Only just the beginning you knew. He’d removed the tops of your ears, pulled teeth and fingernails. Methods you knew were tame for him. He was capable of much much more. But still you fought it, “Wasn’t him.” You croaked; mouth full of blood. “Rest now.” Koschei said gently, “He’ll be back.”  
Azriel had come back, time after time, slowly carving away more parts of you, sinking further into his rage until he was someone you no longer recognised. This was him, the true him, the one who made enemies shudder when he landed on battlefields and emerged from shadows. The Angel of Death. He’d broken you this time. You had nothing more to give and you could no longer weather the storm that Azriel was. “I can help you.” Koschei said that evening, “I can teach you how to fight, fight someone as skilled as him, level the playing field.” You blinked up at him through swollen eyes, “You can?” He hummed, “Yes, Little One, I can.”  
Azriel’s shadows alerted him to someone beelining for his room. Panic, Panic, Panic. They whispered, Azriel pulled Truth Teller from his thigh and positioned himself beside the door. His bedroom door flew open and before whoever had entered could even register what was happening, Azriel had them against the wall, Truth Teller to their throat. “Az!” Elain squeaked. Why hadn’t his shadows told him she was approaching and not a threat? “Elain? What’s wrong?” He breathed, stepping away from her. “It’s Y/N! Koschei has her!” He sprang into action immediately, fighting down the panic that rose in him, the urge to find her as quickly as possible. “You can’t tell the others!” She rushed out, “There’s no time, we need to go now, me and you!” He stopped to survey her for a moment, and she seemed to scramble for the words. “If we show up with Rhys and Feyre, he might act irrationally and kill her on site, you and your shadows can go unseen, and I can see what’s happening!” Azriel surveyed Elain for a couple more seconds before nodding his agreement. He could handle this. He strode over to his armoire, threw open the doors and began selecting his weapons.  
“Do you have a plan?” Elain whispered, creeping along behind him. He stopped and pushed her towards a hidden alcove. “Yes.” He said, his words clipped. “You’re staying here.” He instructed and strode away. Pushing his way through the bushes he surveyed the clearing ahead of him. Empty. He growled to himself, he needed to find her. His shadows were restless, panicking but he didn’t have time to figure out why. “Koschei!” He bellowed into the clearing. “Koschei!” Something barrelled into him from the left, knocking him off of his feet, taking him by complete surprise. The scent hit him before his eyes could recognise who had him pinned and he dropped his hands from their defensive position. “Y/N?” He breathed, relief flooding through him for a brief moment. She was wild. Not a single shred of humanity behind her bruised eyes. Those beautiful eyes which until now still showed her as human, despite the fact she no longer was. Her fists raining down on him, still, he did not lift a hand to defend himself, not as that snap happened inside him and he realised just who was on top of him. His Mate.  
“You have to stop.” He said quietly, surely. “It’s me, its Az, I’m here to take you home.” He told her as her fists continued to rain down upon him. He took in the damage on her face, the damage he was sure that went further than he could see. “No! You will not hurt me again!” She hissed. “I never hurt you, Y/N.” He said quietly. His denial seemed to make her angrier. “Yes, you did! You think I betrayed you all, Cassian is dead! Nyx is gone, Rhys is powerless and wingless! It wasn’t me! You didn’t listen! You never listen! You just kept going!” Azriel had no clue what was happening, but he knew he needed his brothers, so he called for Rhys, despite Elain’s warning.  
“Get up and fight me, Shadowsinger!” She hissed, getting to her feet. “I’m not going to fight you, Y/N.” He told her, his voice even, getting to his feet. “Fight me, you coward!” She yelled, “Or do you not get the same pleasure from it when I'm not tied down and screaming?!” She asked, removing the daggers from her thighs. He didn’t move as she took aim and loosed the dagger in her right hand. A perfect shot, right into the siphon that sat on his chest, he felt the power leave him immediately. “Fight me!” She growled again taking aim a second time and loosing the dagger. It found a home in his shoulder this time.  
Power filled the clearing as Rhys and Cassian arrived. She shuddered under the weight of it. “Turn around, Y/N.” Azriel told her, not taking his eyes from hers. “Turn around and see that Rhys and Cassian are fine.” She took a quick look over her shoulder. “Lies! Tricks!” She snapped. “You’ve been lied to, yes, but not by me.” He told her as she advanced on him. “Y/N!” Cassian called for her, “I’m alive, I'm here, come and see for yourself.” He told her. Before any of them had the chance to react, Rhys was in front of her, wings unfurled, power crackling around the clearing. “Stop this!” He commanded and she fell to her knees under the weight of his power. Azriel was about to let out a relieved breath when fire erupted around her, surrounding her on all sides. “I told her to bring you and you alone, Shadowsinger.” A ancient voice spoke as if it was coming from all angles. The brothers spotted him almost immediately, Elain stood next to him. “You did this?!” Azriel spat at the middle sister, the older twin. “He’s going to give me my life back.” She mumbled. “What was the cost?” Rhys demanded and her glance towards Azriel was the answer. Him. Y/N began to scream then. “I’ll have to improvise now I suppose.” Koschei spoke, “But no matter, the fire will consume her and you’ll be mine, Singer.” He said.  
“Consume her?” Cassian whispered and Koschei let out a humourless laugh, “Oh yes, hel fire, nasty stuff, surrounds you and gets you from the inside out.” Fire, why did it have to be fire? Azriel took one look at his brothers, then looked to his Mate who was still screaming. “I love you, both of you.” He said, hoping the truth of the words shone in his eyes, Rhys clicked on before Cassian did, “Az, don’t-” Rhys didn’t get the chance to finish his words as Azriel took a deep breath and stepped into the fire, stumbling towards his Mate. She would not burn alone.  
All you knew was pain, searing burning pain. You were ready to close your eyes and give up when you saw an angel. He was made of the same fire that was burning you and he was walking towards you, calling your name. He was beautiful. “Have you come to take me?” You asked, the best you could, throat raw from screaming. “Yes love, I’ve come to take you home.” He answered. “Okay.” You agreed, lifting your arms to the angel in a silent plea to be carried. “Make it stop?” You asked him, “I will,” He said, “I’ll make it stop, I promise.” You curled your head into his neck. “My ice is gone, melted.” You said sadly. “I’ll fix it.” Was the last thing you heard him say before the darkness swept in again and you braced yourself to be back on that table in Hewn City.  
When you came to, you weren’t on the table as you expected, but in a plush bed. Nesta watching you carefully from a chair beside your bed. Cassian next to her, nearly in tears as you looked at him. “You aren’t dead? Really?” You choked out, “No, I’m not dead.” He said gently, offering you his wrist so you could feel his pulse and prove to yourself that he was really there. “You think the world would still be standing if he was dead?” Nesta asked, handing you a glass of water, “Try not to move too much, you’re still healing.” She added. “But Azriel said you were dead, that Rhys’s wings and power were gone...” You trailed off as the High Lord appeared before you, wings outstretched, power caressing your mind. “All lies, fed to you by Koschei.” He said. Feyre was next to you, placing Nyx down on the bed with you, “Gently.” She reminded her young son, who went to great lengths to carefully crawl into your lap. “Az never laid a hand on you.” Feyre told you. “He came after you after Elain told him you were gone.” You shook your head. “She lead him into a trap.” Rhys nodded, “We know, and she is confined to her rooms until we figure out the best thing to do with her.” You nodded, “Lucien.” You told them, “She might want to be human still but Koschei has a hold on her as well, maybe its something a Mate can break?” Rhys hummed his agreement, “He’s already on his way.”  
You sat with Nyx for hours, just holding onto the little boy like he was the only thing you could believe was real. Rhys and Feyre had gone to talk to Elain and trusted that Nesta and Cassian would let nothing happen to the little boy. Neither of them had brought up Azriel yet, so you did. “Where is he? Az?” You asked them and the pair shared a look. It was Cassian who eventually said. “He’s in his room, he was hurt.” You gasped, “Did I?!” Cassian shook his head, “You hit him with a couple of daggers but no, not you.” You passed Nyx to him, “What are you doing?!” Nesta demanded as you began to scramble out of your bed, “You’re going to hurt yourself!” You didn’t care, you had to see him. “I need to see him, Nes!” She looked into your eyes and seemed to understand the urgency in them so she nodded, “Let me help you then.” She said, supporting you out of the door and down the hall, “Why are we at the River House?” You asked on the way, “Easier for the healers.” Was all she said.  
Shadows were pouring out of the crack at the bottom of Azriel’s bedroom door as you approached but cleared as you walked towards it, you knocked once and entered, leaving Nesta at the door. Azriel was lying in his bed, covered in bandages, ointments across his bedside. “What happened?” You gasped and his head shot towards you, he winced as he did so. “Y/N! Are you okay?” He asked in a broken voice, “Are you?” You replied. “I’ll be fine.” Was all he said as you continued to take him in. “Az, your wings!” He nodded stiffly. “Fire and I really don’t mix, I guess.” He said, “Fire?” You asked, “Az you hate fire!” He met your eyes as you sat yourself in the chair next to his bed. “I do hate fire, that’s true, but you were in there and I wasn’t leaving you.” Your heart cracked at his words, his biggest fear and he had walked through it for you. “I was on fire? Why don’t I have any burns?” You asked quietly. “Three reasons,” He said, “One, your ice kept you safe, you told me it was gone and that it had melted, that was true, it protected you for as long as it could. Two, I shielded you with my wings. Three, I gave you my blood when we got back here.” A tear slid down your face. “You did that for me?” He nodded. “Why did your blood help?” You asked, “I think you know why.” He responded. “A Mates blood.” You murmured and he nodded again. “Why didn’t you take any of mine? To heal you?” He went quiet for a minuet and took a deep breath. “Feyre suggested it. Said you would be fine with it, but you were so convinced I had hurt you, tortured you, I wouldn’t allow it. I’ll heal well enough.” You shook your head. “Take it now! It wasn’t you, I know it wasn’t!” You stood and walked over to his desk. You picked up Truth Teller and walked back over, slicing your palm as you sat. “Drink Az, I know you’re in pain, I can feel it, everything else we can talk about later.” He hesitated before taking your palm and bringing it to his lips and drinking deeply. He used that same hand to pull you into the bed next to him, groaning as he did so. “We can talk about everything else when we wake up, rest now.” He said, tucking your head under his chin. “Okay.” You murmured, eyes growing heavy. “Az?” he hummed for you to continue. “Never walk through fire for me again.” You told him. “I’d walk through fire every day for the rest of my life for you.” He said quietly as you drifted off to sleep. 
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jisooupssss · 10 months
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Plot: you being the best girlfriend ^^
Warnings: None
Pairing: OT13 x Reader
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AN: I’m so glad I finally came up with an idea I was about to be gone for like ten days😭😭
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Seungcheol: Kissing his dimples. It just became an habit one day, one day you were laying down together you told him to smile and kissed his dimple. So now when he smiles he expects an kiss on his cheek it gets him all shy and giggly it’s so cute
Jeonghan: Teasing him back. It makes him freeze up and stand/sit there in shock with his mouth half open. Tries to tease you again only for you to make another comeback. Turns away so you can’t see his cheeks turn pink only for you to plant an kiss on them
Joshua: Being an gentleman/women to him. like you would tell him to stay in the car and run to the other side and open the door for him. He would be caught off guard but laughs it off as if you don’t notice the heat rising to his cheeks smiling to yourself
Jun: Letting him ramble. Like he will be so focused on his topic then he starts paying attention to you. Seeing how your eyes lightly lit up looking like you have small stars on your eyes, and that soft smile he loves on your face. He then apologize for talking to much but you reassure him that it’s okay he gets all giggle and buries his head in your neck getting shy
Hoshi: Being apart of his Horanghae gang. Like you were apart of it when y’all first started dating you had no choice. But just knowing you accept his for his tiger-I’m sorry my mind was in a goofy mood
Buying him tiger print things. Knowing how much he love tigers you need to buy him tiger related things. It gets him all warm and cozy and any positive thing you can think of inside
Wonwoo: Reading with him. It brings him so much comfort and being with you in comfortable silence makes him warm inside. He loves the feel of being with you at those type of moments any moment’s really but those moments and very special to him
Woozi: Being in his studio with him. It gives him so much more motivation and puts him to harder work. He also loves when you tell him things like he’s doing great or the beat hi made so sound awesome and amazing and that good stuff. Your what keeps him going
DK: Being weird and silly with him. He loves that you don’t think of him differently when he starts randomly doing the most outrageous things instead you join him. He loves when you start doing silly stuff out of nowhere it makes him pull you close to him and just give you as many kisses he desires while giggling
Minghao: Complimenting his paintings. It gives him a little confidence boost. He asks if you won’t to learn how to paint some day and when that day came it didn’t go so well but hey…at least you tried. Giving you a long passionate kiss and thanking you for the compliment OMG I LOVE THIS MAN BRO
Mingyu: Not getting mad at him for his clumsyness. He has officially earned the nickname ‘clumsy’ from you(like the guy from Smurfs) not just because he’s clumsy but you find it cute. But he break something that he know would make you mad, would you tell right away but you can’t get mad not with how his eyes are starting to look like puddles of rain so you just kiss his nose and hug him and tell him it’s ok
Seungkwan: Gossiping with him. Like when you comeback from work you already you both have some boiling hot tea that’s ready to spill. Sometimes set up snacks and drinks because of how long it takes for you both to be done. Sometimes fall asleep talking without realizing you guys might talk in your sleep
Vernon: You randomly saying anything. Like you can be like “what if the sun just exploded right now” he would be like “we die” because he’s just so used you blurting anything out is the most randomness times. Sometimes it catches him very off guard he can’t think so you have to tap him a few times to make him come back to earth
Dino: letting him hold you in his arms. It makes him feel like he’s protecting you from anything out there even just thin air. He holds you so tight like he’s afraid if he let go you’ll just turn into dust and get blown away but the cool breeze. Loves to hold to hold you when y’all first wake up gives you little forehead kiss as time goes by
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AN: THANK YOU GUY FOR ALL THE LIKES ON MY MINGYU POST ILYYYYYSM😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰
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boba-at-323 · 4 months
Text
Stay-home dates with RIIZE !!
Note : OMG !! I had so much fun writing thisssss <333 || DID NOT PROOFREAD PLEASE || Also Idk what to tw but I have mentioned snacks a whole lot of time + I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT GENDER NEUTRAL BUT LIKE SINCE IM FEMALE SO EXCUSE ME ;-; please enjoyyyy !!
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Osaki Shotaro <3 !
Hmm, not a big fan, but as long as you're happy he is too !!
Omg !!
You ask him to film TikToks with you and he's MORE THAN HAPPY !!
So like you've saved a lot of trends and dances you wanna recreate with him.
He's so excited and gets all giggly over it!
Takes it a little too seriously…
Like you're looking at him with your jaw dropped and eyes wide because how did it take him one look to literally MASTER the dance.
Laughs embarrassed when you praise him !!
But you tell him that he's too fast for you ';-; so he apologises and suggests teaching you the dance step by step!
The two of you continuously burst into fits of giggles when something goes wrong.
ITS JUST SO FUNNY BUT IN A CUTE WAY FOR SOME REASON
You'd film like 29837209 TikToks and just have fun goofing around.
You might also end up exhausted on the floor reviewing the videos you filmed.
Thinks you look very cute and asks you to do this often with him!
Might get bored if you don't have a lot to do.
HOWEVER !!!
Would love to talk to you about anything really.
I feel like he's someone who enjoys conversing, so you might actually start having deep conversations that will last for hours.
Hmm rating 8/10 PLS HES SO ADORABLE <3
Rest of the members under the cut !
Song Eunseok <3 !
This man is literally so chill with everything.
Like you'd suggest going for a picnic on a volcano and he'd be like "lol ok."
Okay, maybe not that much but yk what I mean !!
So yeah you're probably sitting with him binge-watching some anime or series.
He's quiet the whole time and is actually very immersed in the story.
However, he will be passing comments every now and then.
And I tell you, these comments are so out of pocket???
Like you can't help but burst out laughing.
And he's just gonna look at you like "😐".
AS IF HE HADN'T SAID THE MOST FUNNIEST THING YOU'VE HEARD ALL WEEK.
So yeah be prepared cuz the witty comments he's gonna slip will crack you so bad.
Like it actually makes you question how his brain works
ESPECIALLY HOW HE DOES LITERAL STAND-UP COMEDY WITH THAT SERIOUS EXPRESSION !!!
But it's okay, that just means he's having fun!
Also, it's very hard to concentrate on whatever you're watching cuz he looks so pretty next to you.
Like you keep on looking at him, smirks 100%
"Yeah I know I'm too hard to resist"
GETS COCKY BUT CAN YOU BLAME HIM !!!
Also makes sure you get your share of snacks!!
I'd rate it a solid 9/10 cuz it's really entertaining!
Jung Sungchan <3 !
HE IS NOT ENTERTAINED BY THE IDEA !!!
But after much convincing, he gives in.
"At least we get to spend time together, right?"
YOU'RE BAKING TOGETHER YIPPIEEEE!!!
But what happens is like,
You're standing there tying your hair back, you ask him for help with your apron.
Gets a little too touchy
You have to slap his arm away and give him a death glare.
Pretends he doesn't know what he did rn 😔
Is actually a very good helping hand.
Like helps you out, follows everything you tell him to do, however...
Has his doubts, and totally shakes his head if he thinks smth is going wrong.
"Y/n are you sure it's 2 cups sugar?" "I don't think we should be using butter…"
NOOO ENDS UP GETTING KICKED OUT OF THE KITCHEN BECAUSE
Like he said, he takes up a large radius.
So this clumsy baby probably toppled over a lot of things, making a very big mess ;-;
Apologises repeatedly with sad puppy eyes 🥹
You kiss his cheek and tell him it's fine
Though you ask him to sit it out and let you handle the rest of the process yourself.
YOU DO DECORATE WTV YOU MADE TOGETHER SO HES VERY EXCITED FOR THAT !!!
I'd rate it a 4/10, this man is NOT meant to be confined to a small space.
Park Wonbin <3 !
Would prefer them actually !!!
He'd absolutely LOVE to cuddle with you throughout the day.
Like he'd just be clinging onto you telling you literally everything that happened to him cuz for some reason he gives me yapper vibes
Though he'd appreciate listening to what you have to tell him, leaving a trail of kisses all over your neck.
Also he LOVES your voice so much omg !
So he can also pull out his guitar and have a serenade with you (english 💀).
Would ask you your favourite song, and if he doesn't know it WILL make sure he knows it the next time you guys have an at-home date
If he knows, he plays it for you encouraging you to sing.
you tell him you think your voice sucks.
A DRAMATIC GASP COMES FROM HIS DIRECTION !!!
"Nonsense idc i just wanna hear your pretty voice <3"
Literally heart eyes for you once you start singing,
Like might actually melt, give you the softest, most lovesick gaze EVER !
There is a possibility he ends up messing up the cords cuz you distracted him !!!
He's so cute pls </3
Omg also, the two of you might also end up in the kitchen cooking smth together, blasting a playlist he made for you!
But you don't know that <3
He actually so desperately wants to do cliche romantic things with you but is too shy to initiate </3
It's giving that "Idk how to flirt so I'm just gonna stare at you till you marry me" meme
HOWEVER !!
Be prepared for endless back hugs because he's just so SO soft for you <333
Anyways yeah 11/10 (+1 is probably cuz I'm so down bad for him)
Hong Seunghan <3 !
My manz I miss him all day everyday ;-;
He's so sweet I tell you, agrees to literally everything.
Putting mbti and stuff aside, I think he'd actually plan out a few activities you could do together.
Like if you're going over to his place, hes prepared snacks and stuff for you.
Hmm !! Video games are a must I believe !!
Like I read he plays FIFA online???
SO yeah, if you know how to play, the both of you would spend hours playing together
I don't see him getting very competitive but will whine if you keep on beating him!
However, will also compliment on how great you are at the game!!
HE FEELS PROUD I TELL YOU !!
However, if you don't know how to play and absolutely suck (like me ;-;)
HE'D BE SO EXCITED TO TEACH YOU !!
When you mess something up, or like if you can't understand something, the pout on your lips makes his heart EXPLODE.
Like he thinks you're the most adorable ever, he'd start squealing if his pride lets him.
Ends up attacking you with kisses and hugs.
The game is long forgotten, just a clingy Seunghan showering you with love because of how adorable he finds you.
I'D RATE IT AN 8/10 TBH BECAUSE HE'D FORGET WHAT PERSONAL SPACE IS !!!
Lee Sohee <3 !
SPENT SO MUCH TIME THINKING SOMETHING FOR HIM 😭
Unlike Seunghan, I can see him playing board games and such with you!
For example, the two of you could be sitting on the floor playing UNO.
But that got boring CUZ HOW DO TWO PEOPLE EVEN PLAY UNO !!!
So takes out a Jenga set because he thought it was very entertaining!
Both of you are screaming SO much when either chooses the wrong piece to remove.
HOWEVER, HE'S USING THE SPECIAL SKILLS EUNSEOK TAUGHT HIM!!!
Which is unfair to you and you WILL whine about it.
"All is fair in war and Jenga"
HIS WORDS NOT MINE !!!
Laughs at you because you're definitely the one who's going to topple the tower over.
So yeah you all spend a lot of time giggling and screaming over board games!
OMG ALSO !! Thanks to Anton, he bought some Lego sets too!!
You all start good but eventually get so frustrated because you can't find one tiny piece.
Ofc you give up and spend the rest of the evening with his karaoke machine !!
HE !! WANTS !! TO !! SING !!
And please you're just so mesmerised the whole time he's singing.
Like woah??? His voice is so good even when he's goofing around? INSANE!!
Though you aren't losing to him, so the both of you get SUPER competitive.
RATING THIS A 7/10 !!
Lee Anton <3 !
Like Wonbin, he'd also enjoy stay-at-home dates.
I can see him enjoying doing anything, to be honest.
Like for example, the two of you could just be lying next to each other sharing with each other reels you see.
Or just him listening to you telling him some tea from your workplace/college etc.
Sitting on the bed together with a variety of snacks sprawled around.
Like Sohee, I can even see him building Legos in silence with you cuz this guy is so patient !
Oh also!
He'd pull out his laptop and shyly ask if you'd like to listen to the music he's created.
After listening, your face is the shocked Pikachu meme.
"Woahhh my boyfriend is so cool :OOO"
Get's blushy over the compliments you shower him with.
Brushes it off saying it's nothing.
THATS A FREAKING LIE LEE CHANYOUNG!!
NEways, teaches you how to try making music.
Laughs if you cry about how difficult it is, he thinks it's adorable.
You ask him to delete the trash you've made, but he creates a separate folder to save everything you've made with him.
ITS ART TO HIM !!! HOW CAN HE THINK SMTH YOU'VE CREATED IS TRASH?!?!?!
Plus he treasures it so much like only if he could somehow just make you feel how much it means to him !!
SO YEAH !
Pretty cute, very cozy, overall nice experience 10/10 <3
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Thank you for reading reblogs and reviews are appreciated ! <3
Title : Stay-home dates with Riize || Word count: 1652 || Genre: fluff ! || Pairing: Riize x implied Fem!Reader (tried making it gender neutral pt.29382938)
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meownotgood · 4 months
Note
would aki ever consider homewrecking your relationship? in an upstaging sort of way at least? he brings you home-cooked food, drives you often, remembers details about you that make you realise your own bf doesn't?
ooooo imagine he gets drunk and starts being slightly more assertive not caring your bf is also in the room. flat out ignores him as he monopolizes your attention <3
despite his feelings for you, aki is polite, he keeps how he feels to himself and rarely comments on your boyfriend or your relationship. he congratulates you when you first tell him, saying he'd love to meet your boyfriend sometime. he doesn't intend to show your boyfriend up. it isn't aki's fault that he remembers your birthdate when your boyfriend doesn't. it isn't aki's fault that he knows what you like more than your boyfriend does, and so he brings you small gifts and homecooked meals whenever he's available.
boyfriend or not, aki has always shown you the same kindness — you're friends, so of course he does. you're each other's closest friend, in fact.
though, when aki's had a bit too much to drink, that's when the problems start to arise.
a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, or something or other. aki remembers his mentor telling him as such when he was a teenager. but aki isn't really the talkative type when he's drunk, nor does he tend to get anywhere past slightly tipsy when he's out drinking. normally. tonight is far from normal.
aki is drinking way more than he should, ordering beer after beer until he has an array of empty frothy glasses around him, because tonight, you've brought your boyfriend along. the division's non-specific party had no problem with inviting friends of friends or significant others. but your boyfriend is sitting next to you, when it's usually aki that sits by your side.
he has his arm wrapped lazily around you, your shoulders are stiff as you sip your drink, drowning out the noise of him shouting across the table. he's waving over the waitress, and aki's jaw is clenching so hard it almost hurts, because as your boyfriend is complimenting the waitress' outfit with less-than-appropriate choices of words, his palm is on your thigh, you're shrinking into your seat — and aki is done.
he pushes up from the table so fast it shakes, making glasses clink together, and causing your gaze to dart up to him. unsurprisingly, you follow after him a few moments later. you step outside, goosebumps immediately brushing over your bare arms, to see aki palming a cigarette between clumsy fingers. his brows are knotted with tell-tale annoyance, but when he finishes shoving his lighter back in his pocket, and exhales a puff of grey smoke into the night sky, his voice as he speaks to you is nothing but soft.
"sit next to me when we go back inside," he says, plain and simple. the nicotine settles his growing nerves, and the slight husky slur to his words is the only thing giving his intoxication away.
you hardly have time to think about what he's asking of you — asking, was that even a question? aki takes one more quick drag, before dropping the half-burned cigarette on the pavement, stamping it out with his shoe. you're managing an, are you alright? but it only goes unanswered. aki grasps your wrist, and he starts to tug you back inside.
the atmosphere is much different once you've sat back down; at aki's side, this time. the lack of space has your thighs lightly touching aki's as you shift to get comfortable. yet, it feels like you can finally, truly relax.
aki orders another full beer before your boyfriend even notices your absence — with an annoyed look on his face, he doesn't question why you've moved, just drunkenly rambles about your disrespect for a moment, before turning his attention back towards the people beside him. aki though, he keeps his focus solely on you. he leans close to whisper quiet words into your ear. he doesn't seem to care that your boyfriend is right there, still sitting directly across from you. aki keeps you to himself, and himself alone.
for a moment, your gaze drifts up. aki's adam's apple bobs and his head tips back as he downs the rest of his drink, his face flushed slightly. he turns towards you then, eyes lingering on you for longer than necessary. he gazes at you with such a sense of softness, a look you can't remember anyone else ever giving you.
that's right. it was aki who invited you out tonight, who saved you your favorite seat knowing you would want to sit there, only for your boyfriend to drag you to the opposite end of the table. it was aki who already had your drink of choice ordered for you by the time you arrived. it was aki who leant across the table, trying to ask you how you're doing and how you're liking your new job, while your boyfriend who's never bothered to inquire was busy taking shots with the group a table over.
sighing to yourself, your mind spinning from the alcohol in your system, you let your head lean on aki's shoulder. aki hesitates. then, he snakes a palm behind you to hold the small of your back. when your boyfriend stumbles up from the table to head off somewhere, aki makes sure he sees.
he calls your boyfriend over for a moment to discuss something he already knows, some paperwork he has to fill out tomorrow for the division — aki keeps his arm locked around your waist, your head is leant on his shoulder, and as your boyfriend leaves, you don't even give him so much as a glance. aki keeps the obvious grimace your wasted boyfriend had on his face to himself.
"I'm sorry," aki mumbles after a few minutes, rubbing your back with his palm in slow circles. you chuckle, replying with a half-hearted, what for?
"I'm sorry for getting so drunk," he explains, "but your boyfriend was being an asshole. it pissed me off. I don't get why he acts like that, I could-"
aki swallows, stopping himself, stifling the words he almost said. I could treat you so much better.
sighing, he rubs his knotted temple with his fingers, and he turns to you as you're propping up next to him.
"don't apologize." you stretch, bringing your arms above your head, then rolling your shoulders back. your heart patters in your chest. aki is so close; you can see all the details of his face, you can smell the hints of cologne clinging to his jacket. his arm around you feels like it belongs there. "shouldn't have had so much to drink too."
"I'll take you home," aki says in response. "we should leave soon. the trains won't run for much longer."
you hum, eyes fluttering, gazing up at him with a look that causes his breath to get caught in his weary lungs. "can I come with you back to your place, aki?"
your boyfriend wouldn't like it. aki imagines how he'd react once he came to. if he'd call you, the phone ringing thrice before you pick up, only for him to hear aki's voice on the other line. there's grumbling, the sound of sheets rustling, and then aki murmuring supposedly in your ear, telling you to go back to sleep.
perhaps that's exactly why aki leans in closer to you, close enough to have his breath fan over your cheek, and inevitably answers with a warm, earnest, of course.
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
Steve doesn’t think anything of it when he says it.
He’s lying on Robin’s bed, squished between a diverse collection of childhood teddy bears. Robin’s sat opposite him up by the headboard, her feet knocking against his knees; she’s massaging Pond’s cream into her elbows, and the room smells of cocoa butter.
Steve breathes in leisurely.
He thinks back to just a few months ago, when he’d first gotten the job at Scoops Ahoy—when he’d found out that his only co-worker was going to be a Robin Buckley: who the hell is she? he’d thought with a familiar carelessness, an echo from his junior year. Before the monsters. Before…
“Hey, Robin,” Steve begins. The words come slowly, like he’s wandering through the thought. “Do you ever think that, like… that it’s kinda crazy, y’know, how we ended up here?”
Robin pauses in her massaging. She gives him a dry look. “This is a pretty standard Sunday evening for me.”
Steve snorts. “Not like that, dickhead.”
Although maybe it is like that actually.
Maybe it’s about how he now watches Murder, She Wrote in the Buckley’s living room without Robin’s parents batting an eye; how they said he could join them for dinner beforehand, and then he kept showing up earlier and earlier to the point where him and Robin just spend the whole day together, and it’s never awkward, there’s no quips or whatever from her dad about them secretly being together; and maybe it feels sorta like a fairytale in the best way; maybe he feels a little like Laurie except he doesn’t want to propose to Jo.
And maybe it’s that the whole thing is just insane: that the entire goddamn trajectory of his life somehow took this wild turn, has made him land here, of all places, and he doesn’t even mean it in an asshole kind of way.
He means…
“Guess I’m just… just thinking. Like, it all kinda worked out, y’know?” Even as he says it, he knows it’s a risk—because they’ve not talked about Starcourt, not really, they’ve just talked around it, but this hardly counts, right? It’s just a joke, it’s just… “Yeah, I, um, got my head knocked around, but, it, uh, it meant I ended up here, so.”
He wants Robin to laugh—or at least, he thinks he does.
She doesn’t. She just goes very still.
He feels something twist in his gut; she’s got this way of looking at him, like he’s accidentally said more than what he thought he did.
“Steve.”
Robin crawls forward, clumsy and urgent. She grabs hold of his wrist. He feels the grease of body lotion as her thumb moves in tiny circles against his skin.
“That didn’t need to happen,” she says so seriously, and for some reason that’s almost the thing that does it, the thing that almost gets him to break on a slow Sunday evening in October, because whenever his stupid brain brings him back to July, to blood and pain and a deep, unimagineable fear, he tries to remember how it felt: how he laughed through it with Robin in a bathroom stall, and it would almost be enough to soothe the sting, that he could endure it, could endure anything so long as he could have this, please just let me have—
“We could’ve had the most boring summer of our lives,” Robin says, with a smile that’s a little sad, a little wistful, but always kind. “And I still would’ve…”
He hears them again, those words he’s been clinging to.
Listen to me, Steve. It's shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you.
“It just would’ve taken longer,” Robin finishes. Her eyes dart all over his face, and he suspects that he knows part of what she’s seeing: the ghosts of bruises. “Okay?”
For a moment, Steve can’t speak. “Okay.”
Robin shuffles up next to him, sitting right on top of one of her bears—“You’re squishing him,” Steve points out, to which Robin just snorts—and then she’s hugging him, maybe tighter than he’s ever been hugged before.
He lets his head fall forward and breathes.
They break apart eventually. If there’s a wet patch on her shirt, Robin doesn’t point it out—just says there’s cake for dessert, and she doesn’t move back to her spot, so her elbows are practically always in danger of catching Steve in the ribs.
And God, Steve tries to believe it: that he could have all of this without… That he could’ve always had it.
He tries.
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mustainegf · 4 months
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i neeeed young parents reader x james, maybe 1984-85 ?
I hope I understood this correctly!! I’m such a sucker for cute stuff like this, and 80s dad James?? Oh my godddd
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In 1985, James and I were 23 years old, living life with the reckless abandon of youth.
James was riding the wave of Metallica's rising fame, and I was swept along in the chaos and excitement of it all.
Everything seemed perfect the way it was, until we found out I was pregnant. That news stopped us both in our tracks.
I remember the day I told James. He was tuning his guitar, his brow furrowed in concentration. When I told him, he just stared at me, his hands frozen on the strings.
There was a long silence, then he let out a breath and said, "Well, looks like we're gonna be parents." His voice was calm, but I could see the fear in his eyes.
We were both terrified, but there was no question, we were going to keep this baby.
By the time our daughter was born in 1986, everything had changed.
Metallica was on the cusp of releasing ‘Master of Puppets’, and James was busier than ever.
Despite the demands of his career, he was determined to be a good father.
When he was home, he was entirely devoted to our little girl.
James was adorable with her. He was this big, rough around the edges rock star, but when he held her, he was so gentle.
I would watch him trying to figure out how to change her diaper, his fingers fumbling with the tabs, and I couldn't help but laugh.
He'd grumble about how "diapers are more complicated than guitar," but he always managed to get it right in the end.
There were nights when she'd cry for hours, and James would get up, scoop her into his arms, and pace the floor, whispering lullabies in his gravelly voice.
Those moments made me fall in love with him all over again.
He was clumsy and inexperienced, but his heart was in it. He was head over heels for our daughter.
Being young parents was hard to say the least. We had so much to learn and so many adjustments to make.
James's schedule was unpredictable, and there were times when he had to leave for weeks on end.
Those were the hardest times, feeling like I was doing it all alone. But he always called, always checked in, and when he came home, he'd bring all his love back to us.
One evening, after a particularly long tour, James came home exhausted but beaming. He scooped our daughter up, twirling her around, her giggles filling the room.
She had just started to recognize him, her eyes lighting up whenever he walked in.
Seeing them together, seeing how much he adored her, made all the struggles worth it.
James wasn't perfect. He made mistakes, and there were times when his temper would flare, or he'd be too tired to help as much as he wanted. And same with me, we were sad too young to be parents, but we did it with pride.
But he was trying, and that meant everything. He was present, he was loving, and he was learning.
In those early days, amidst the chaos and the sleepless nights, we built something together. James would often say that our daughter was the best thing that ever happened to him, and I couldn't agree more.
She completed us, gave us a purpose.
The memory of the day our daughter was born is drawn vividly in my mind, as if it happened just yesterday.
Labor had been long and exhausting, and by the time I finally held our daughter in my arms, I was completely spent.
But when I looked at her tiny, perfect face, everything else faded away. She was here. She was ours.
When the nurse finally handed our daughter to James, I saw a transformation in him that I would never forget.
He took her so carefully, as if she were made of the most fragile glass, and for a moment, he just stared at her, his breath catching in his throat.
His hands, usually so confident and sure, trembled slightly as he cradled her close to his chest.
"Hi, babygirl," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm your daddy."
His eyes were bright with unshed tears. I saw him fight to keep his composure, to be strong, but the tears welled up anyway, spilling over and trailing down his cheeks.
It was a rare sight from James.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice breaking. "I promise I'll always protect you."
Our daughter, swaddled tightly in a soft blanket, let out a small, contented sigh, and it seemed to break whatever last bit of worry James had.
He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his tears falling onto her blanket.
I reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tremor that ran through him. "She's perfect, isn't she?" I whispered.
James nodded, unable to speak for a moment.
James couldn't seem to take his eyes off her, and I watched as he traced a finger lightly over her tiny hand, her delicate fingers curling around his. It was as if he was memorizing every detail.
"I can't believe she's real," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "She's so small...and I'm so scared I'll mess her up."
I squeezed his arm, offering what reassurance I could. "We'll figure it out. You're already doing great."
Many months later, Our apartment in San Francisco was modest, but it was ours. The walls were adorned with posters of Metallica and other bands, a reflection of James's world and our love of music.
The living room was a mishmash of instruments, baby toys, and scattered laundry.
It was late afternoon, and James was home after a week on the road.
He was determined to feed our daughter her dinner, giving me a chance to sit back and relax for a moment.
I sat on the couch, my legs curled under me, watching the scene unfold with amusement.
James had our daughter in her high chair, a small bowl of mashed peas in one hand and a bright yellow spoon in the other.
His eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, his tongue poking out slightly as he tried to scoop up the right amount of food.
Our daughter, with her chubby cheeks and bright eyes, was all smiles, clearly delighted to have her daddy home.
"Alright, little lady," James said in his gravelly voice, "here comes the airplane."
He made a buzzing noise, moving the spoon toward her mouth. But just as he got close, our daughter batted the spoon away with a giggle, sending peas flying.
James's face fell, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Nice try, Daddy," I teased.
James shot me a mock glare. "You're not helping, you know."
I shrugged, unable to wipe the grin off my face. "You're doing great, rock star."
He rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips.
He scooped up more peas and tried again, this time managing to get a little bit into her mouth before she clamped her lips shut and turned her head, giggling and squealing.
"Oh, come on, kid," he said, trying to keep his frustration at bay. "You gotta eat something."
Our daughter had other plans.
She grabbed the spoon with her tiny hands and promptly dropped it on the floor, squealing with delight.
James let out a sigh, bending down to pick it up, only for it to be batted away again as soon as he held it up.
"You're killing me, kid," he muttered, though there was a shine in his eye.
I could see the love and patience in him, even as he struggled with something as simple as feeding her.
It was moments like this that reminded me why I fell in love with him. Despite the scary rock star exterior, James was tender and caring. The sweetest man I’d ever known.
I got up from the couch and walked over to them, picking up the spoon and wiping it clean. "Let me show you a trick," I said, taking a small spoonful of peas and gently holding it up to our daughter's lips.
She opened her mouth obediently, and I slipped the spoon in, her eyes lighting up.
James watched, shaking his head in mock defeat. "I swear, she's got it out for me."
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. "She just likes making you work for it. You're doing great, James. She loves you."
He smiled, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close. "I love you too, you know."
Our daughter made a happy noise, flapping her hands as if to say she loved us too.
We were young and often unsure of what we were doing, but we had each other, and that was enough.
James leaned down, planting a kiss on our daughter's forehead. "Alright, little lady, let's try this again."
With determination, he picked up the spoon and attempted another round of feeding. This time, he was more successful, managing to get a few more bites in before the inevitable mess ensued.
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