#I DO NOT HAVE SKILLS I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO COOK WELL AND THIS BOTHERS ME BUT I CANT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT BECAUSE I DO NOT HAVE THE TIME OR EN

[draconic-desire]

THE NAIVE DARLINGGGG

I can imagine darling crying into Sunday.. at first refusing going to home, expressing her insecurities. So when Sunday drags her back, she just pleads with Sunday. All darling wants to to serve at least some purpose to Sundays life. She begs Sunday to let her cook for him .. or in her sobbing fit shr muttered how even having Sundays baby would serve some usefullness.. Darling didnt want to seem like a burden to Sunday..

At the mention of babies, Sunday gets the idea of how sweet little children will tie darling to him forever

The baby will come out a lil skrunkly , in a cite way of course <3 a fat plump baby who looks like a dumpling with chicken wings attached to the back of its ear :"(

sunday would 1000% babytrap his darling at some point, you cannot convince me otherwise. but if YOU came to HIM about it? girl bye you’re done for

Yan!Sunday x Fem!Reader

warning: nsfw thoughts from sunday, mentions of pregnancy

After Sunday leads you back home, it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to spiral again.

Walking through the halls of the spacious pavilion, eying the grandeur that is Sunday’s home, pondering his status as the head of the Family…you start to wonder what you bring to the table.

He claims he loves you, that you are unique and irreplaceable, but what does that really mean? You have no money, wealth, or fame, no notable skills that could contribute to the Oak Family lineage.

Well, except…

Your hand falls to your abdomen. It’s something Sunday has mentioned in passing, the need for an heir, the desire to expand his family, but you never thought he meant doing so with you. But perhaps…?

Your head shakes violently, and you turn to wipe away a stray tear. How foolish of you. Sunday doesn’t keep you around for that sort of thing. His hier will be delivered from a queen, befitting of the same status as him, and not some nobody like you.

Like always, Sunday is more attentive than you give him credit for.

He thinks it’s cute, how naive and oblivious you are sometimes. Except when he notices that this time, you are attempting to hide your crying behind the palm on your hand.

“(Y/n), my love, what troubles you?” He gently pulls your hand away from your face and instead turns you to face him.

Seeing him like this, his tender gaze trained on your form alone, suddenly makes you burst into tears.

“S-S-Sunday,” you sob, “please let me help! I’ll do anything!”

He blinks, confusion written across his features. “Help? With what? (Y/n), it’s been a long day, let me take you to bed—”

You clasp his hands in your own, looking up at him with (e/c) eyes brimming with tears. “Please, don’t throw me aside for someone else. I-I promise I’m not a burden. You need an heir, right? So please, let me carry that responsibility.”

He inhales sharply, his amethyst pupils dilating.

…Did he hear you correctly?

You want to have his child?

Sunday momentarily forgets how to breathe.

Oh, how he has fantasized about this very scenario; it has taken all of his willpower to hold back, to fool you into believing his charming, domestic mannerisms, when he truly wishes to claim every part of you, to brand himself upon every inch of your flesh. Lovely, beautiful, naive little you would never expect the dark desires hidden beneath the surface.

In reality, the thought of you begging for his seed permeates his waking and sleeping dreams. He’s lost track of the amount of nights spent with his hand around his cock, picturing your tight cunt wrapped around it instead.

Never would he have imagined you in this position willingly, practically on your knees for him, desperate for his cum, for his child growing in your belly. The idea arouses him more than you can ever know, and he has to shift to hide his growing erection.

Instead, he scoops you into his arms and nuzzles his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent. Oh, how lovely you’re going to smell when you’re glowing and round with his heir! He imagines how adorable his Halovian child will be, and how he wishes to pin a pair of wings behind your ears as well—a matching set for father, mother, and child.

The wings are, of course, the very ones ripped from your own back—you’re just too entranced by Sunday to notice it was he who plucked them from you to begin with.

And now, Sunday is through with holding back. You’re going to be fully and irrevocably his, tied to him forever. Like a fly landing on a venus trap, your own actions seal your fate. You don’t have a moment to react before the jaws of the predator swallow you whole.

“How could I deny you, my angel?” he coos, pacing towards the bedroom as he begins to pry at the buttons of your top. “And what better time to begin than the present, hm?”

[turtleblogatlast]

Something I love about Leo is that, canonically, he IS capable of cooking, he’s just completely incapable of using a toaster. He’s banned from the kitchen not out of an inability to make edible food, but because being within six feet of a toaster causes the poor appliance to spontaneously combust.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 2 - Psyche Skills

Part 1 - Part 3

[frogathy]

im just waiting until the day i can get married and be a mom what do you mean i have to “go to college” and “have ambitions”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

[pixiesndberries]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —

a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !

☆ OUR STARS : Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !

━ REQUESTED BY : none

━⁠ WARNINGS : none

ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : heya pookies I know it's been a while 🙏🏻 but here I am creating another series to pay off the days I wasn't posting so much —⁠ forgive me my pookies 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 we have holiday break so I'm going to grind a lot 😝

NANAMI KENTO, as your husband !

• Nanami is the perfect standard for male wife, argue with the wall —⁠ this man knows how to cook, clean his home, does his own laundry, and mostly basic life skills that most men barely know which is pretty much a big turn on.

Nanami who always supports your decision as long as it doesn't have any bad effects in your life, he respects you a lot to whatever you do in your life —⁠ he thinks that just because you are married it doesn't mean he have full possession on you, though sometimes when you asked for his opinions about your decisions in such situations he isn't shy of what he thinks.

Nanami the type of husband who will always do small and big things for you even though you can do it yourself —⁠ carrying groceries for you, helping you in the kitchen, sending you to your work, helps you clean the house, and goes to the mall with you.

; he surprisingly took the shopping bags form your hands gently "your hands will get numb, this is pretty heavy." he says with his usual tone as he looks at you softly, you can't help but to smile in his small little gestures and gosh it's making her heart melt.

"thank you, kento." you say as you gave him a big smile and pressed a kiss on his cheeks making him grin.

Nanami who is being a worrywart when you don't reply quickly when you're out with your friends late night —⁠

; kento | sent a message.

10:24 pm

kento : just got home love ❤️

kento : what time are you going home?

11:04 pm

kento : love, tell me when you're going home I'll pick you up ❤️

kento : is everything going alright?

kento : kind of worried, hope you respond soon 😅

11:07 pm

kento : please reach out to me when you can so I can pick you up ☺️

kento : I'm worried 😢

you : love I'm fine sorry, we we're drinking just a tiny bit 😭

you : you can pick me up now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Nanami the type of husband to use cringe emojis but you appreciate it anyways, he barely use his phone or try to use emojis —⁠ headcanon : he learned using emojis from yuji or gojo 🙏🏻 you find it silly and cute anyways.

Nanami who's phone is always filled with your photos and some sceneries with you in it —⁠ he doesn't like taking photos of himself that much though, he loves taking photos of you and look through it when he's not busy or when he misses you and he's at work.

Nanami when he learned how to use Instagram and he can't stop posting you —⁠ Gojo probably tried influencing him to use social media once and he was like no??? not until one time you took a photo of him during one of your dates and you asked him, "hey can I post this?" and of course he said yes and after that you kept posting him at some times which led him to the idea of posting you as well since he thinks you deserve it too.

; nanami.kento1990

tagged : @y/n.igcom | ❤️

itaaa.yuji and 13 others liked this post.

gojosatoru | he knows how to use Instagram 😦 ???

gojosatoru | WHO TAUGHT YOU ⁉️

itaaa.yuji | first post !!

nobaraaaa | parents 🙏🏻

Nanami who is nervous to talk about the future he wants with you — not totally nervous it's more like when you talked about kids you wanted soon with him he will always be like, "sure I also thought about that." with his usual tone but deep inside talking about it was his hyper fixation and he can't stop thinking about it.

Nanami who never in his life forget about giving you flowers in small or big occasions —⁠

; "happy mother's day." he says softly with a grin in his face as he hands you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, "kento, I'm not a mother yet." you laugh as you take the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers for a second. He never fails to make you feel happy, "maybe soon?" he chuckles then makes his way to give you a hug. "sure." you laughed and happily hugged him back tightly, exchanging I love you.

Nanami who never left by your side especially when you are not okay, he will leave his work for a day or even weeks if you really need him by your side —⁠ he will never get tired of comforting you; if you need a shoulder to cry on? He's there. He can stay all day in bed with you to make you feel better —⁠ take you out in a vacation if that's what you really need or probably do every house chores just to make you rest.

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

[xoddxphilosophyx]

.

[hellenhighwater]

Mildly weird question for story research purposes: when your cats ride on your shoulder, what does it feel like for you?

Context: My main character has a cat who likes to ride around on her shoulder, and since it's a thing that happens frequently, I'm trying to make sure I write about it well. And, unfortunately, I do not have a cat to even attempt to test it with, so I'm going to the one person I KNOW has experience with this situation.

Specific things that would be helpful to know:

Do you have to be careful not to upset their balance, or can you more or less walk normally once they're up there?

How are they keeping themselves up there? Are there claws involved? Or just good balance?

Where's most of their weight? I looked back at some pictures/vids, and it looks like they typically ride with their front paws on the shoulder and their back paws somewhere a bit below and beside your neck, but I could be wrong.

How long can they stay on your shoulder before one of you has to take a break? Is the weight of the cat tiring, or is it pretty easy to deal with?

Anything else I should be aware of regarding shoulder cats?

Thank you SO MUCH for your help!

Oh, I can definitely answer that! One: It's waaay easier to shoulder a small cat than a big one.

For the most part, they kind of drape themselves over the shoulder; this is specifically what I've trained them to do. Cats will also "shoulder" by draping across both shoulders/back of neck, but this forces your head forward to allow room for them, and it's not comfy. Hence the trained posture. (Malice, in the early days:)

I taught Mal to jump up when I bent forward for her, and circle to face front while I stood up. She can actually do that pretty quickly. Their weight is pretty evenly distributed across the top of the shoulder and down on the pectoral, not really on the back at all. Mal sometimes hooks her back claws into my shirt near the shoulderblade, which is more about balance than weight support. Nim, who was significantly smaller, actually kept her back feet tucked up so that her feet were on the top of my shoulder. This is a significantly more ready posture than Mal's--she would have to readjust for a better foothold to jump down; Nim could leap directly off at a moment's notice. Overall, Nim had far superior shouldering skills to Mal. Malice rides like the meatball she is; I'm hoping she'll learn with age. Here's some pictures of Nim:

To give them a stable position, I do keep my back straight and shoulders back; if I have to pick something up, I will crouch down instead of bending over. If I have to bend forwards, I will put my palm up flat so that they can stand with their front paws on it and keep their body on my shoulder. Generally, I can move, walk, and even work normally. I've cooked, painted, done chores, even run. Both hands are free to use, though generally you can't lift the arm the cat is on above a T position. They don't need to use their claws for balance unless I am doing something really active. I do shoulder almost exclusively on my left shoulder, so that my dominant hand is more free.

The weight is not significant--Nim was only about 8 lbs, Mal is about 11, and because there's no grip to maintain them and they're naturally situated on the shoulder, it's easy to carry them for a long time. I used to walk miles with Nim on my shoulder. It's actually more the heat--cats run hot, and it's a lot of fur on your neck and shoulder if it's warm out. Great in the winter, though!

Notable things you might not realize--their head is in front of yours, so you can still see ear positions, what they're looking at, etc. Nim's night vision/hearing/sense of smell was better than mine, so I could tell if we were sneaking on wildlife based on her reactions and responses to things. You can also feel them tense or adjust posture before they jump or try to get down, and you can feel their tail moving. You can also feel if they're growling or purring, even if you can't hear it. If you're used to paying attention to those cues, you'll notice them while just carrying the cat normally too--Nobody could sneak up behind me if I was carrying Nim facing over my shoulder to the back.

They can jump from shoulder height but it's a hard landing. Usually if I want them down, I just kneel with a knee up, or lift a leg flat while standing so they can jump to the top of my leg and then to the ground.

If I was in a fictional setting and traveling with them long term, I would be investing in a really weird piece of leather armor, that goes to the edge of the neck/crest of shoulder, and down past the bottom of the shoulderblade, with little easy-to-grip leather loops or chainmail on the back of the shoulder.

[keerysfreckles]

cookies — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x hephaestus fem!reader

summary: in which luke finds y/n, in order to tell her something he's been meaning to for the past two years

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, i think thats it ??? making out/kissing

a/n: I FINISHED TLT TODAY- idc if luke is evil (if evil why pookie)

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n l/n thought her life at camp half-blood would've felt like a fairy tale. two years later, she was deeply misguided.

the camp experience itself wasn't bad. she loved meeting the new campers, and bonding with her cabin mates, and seeing luke from time to time.

but even when she got claimed by her father, hephaestus, y/n still felt like a square trying to fit in a triangle hole. hephaestus was the god of forge. fire. craft. creation.

when y/n first arrived to camp, she met luke. he didn't know why, but out of all the campers in hermes cabin, he felt as though he needed to protect y/n the most.

two and a half weeks after meeting luke, y/n had been claimed by her father. the boy was sad to see her leave, but glad as well, due to her being claimed to a new cabin.

as soon as y/n and chiron entered the doors of hephaestus cabin, the duo was met with seven boys. five of them were around the same age as the girl, and the other two looked no older than ten.

this made y/n feel even more out of place. yes, they all made her feel at home, and they still do. y/n just can't help but feel isolated.

less than a week after y/n was claimed, she unfortunately found out forging wasn't the exact type of creation she was skilled at. she tried pottery, metalwork, jewelry making, and even knitting. the girl was crushed when none of the activies suited her.

until one afternoon, she was in the kitchen after helping bring in dirty dishes from lunch. a few ingredients caught her eye, and she instantly started bringing them together and made something delicious. chiron soon came inside, and was both surprised and pleased y/n had found her activity. cooking.

this leads y/n to where she is right now. the camp kitchen. ever since the fateful day she discovered her gift, she rarely ever left the kitchen. y/n was considered the new cook of camp, and she enjoyed everything about it.

recently, the girl has taken baking into her small circle of talents. which explains why all day y/n has been baking cookies for tomorrow. it was percy's birthday, and annabeth asked her to make blue chocolate chip cookies for him, one of percy's favorite foods. she had to make enough for the whole camp. almost one hundred cookies were already baked and cooled, and she had one hundred more to go.

annabeth kept checking on y/n every so often, to see her progress (and to make sure she took breaks and to not overwork herself). two times the younger girl came in the kitchen, her and y/n talked for a bit. y/n kept teasing annabeth at all the staring she'd been doing towards percy lately. to be fair, it was annabeth's idea to have the cookies for percy's birthday, so y/n knew something had to be going on between the two tweens.

y/n doesn't notice the person who had entered the kitchen. she heard footsteps, so she guessed it was annabeth.

luke stood in the doorway of the kitchen. he took a moment to admire the girl in front of him. y/n stood behind the kitchen island, with a metal bowl, a baking sheet, and other multiple baking utensils layed out over the countertop. luke could smell a batch of cookies in the oven at the right of the kitchen, along with the fresh ones all placed on the counters behind y/n.

luke finally knocks on the door, making y/n look up from rolling balls of cookie dough. a smile was quick to fill her features, "hi luke."

luke walked over towards her, leaning on the island, standing across from her.

"how are percy's birthday cookies coming along?" he asks, seeing the girl still at work.

y/n nods, "they're going," she laughs, "that's for sure."

"i was looking for you earlier," luke admits, as he continues to watch y/n at work.

looking up from her blue stained hands, y/n sees a small blush covering luke's cheeks. "oh yeah?"

it's luke's turn to nod, "yeah, but the hephaestus boys said you'd be in here."

y/n chuckles, before the two sit in a comfortable silence for no less than a minute.

"did you need me for something?" y/n asks, as she takes two baking sheets to the oven. luke only laughs while watching y/n open the oven with her foot, as her hands were full.

"i just wanted to come check on you," luke moves to side of the kitchen island y/n was previously on. "you have made quite the mess in here."

both luke and y/n look at the batches of cookies, the reminants of cookie dough on the counters, empty bowls in both of the sinks, and flour on the kitchen island and floor.

"what's the real reason you wanted to see me luke?" y/n asks the boy, knowing that he had a tell when he was nervous. he always licked his lips before speaking.

"what? i can't just want to see a dear friend of mine?" he jokes.

"oh you can," y/n responds, "except, whenever you visited me you always wanted seconds, or an extra dessert."

luke doesn't repsond right away, knowing y/n had a point.

the boy licks his lips, nervous from what he's about to tell y/n.

"do you ever wonder why i might've been more protective of you over the other campers? when you first joined hermes cabin?" luke asks, catching y/n off guard.

y/n shakes her head, "no, i never really thought about it before."

luke takes a deep breath, "you seemed more special to me."

y/n's eyebrows furrowed, only making luke continue.

"you just seemed so different from the other campers i've met. special. i just had to protect you. i still feel like i have to."

"luke, i don't get what you're trying to say," y/n admits. luke's confession is only making her confused.

"then i don't have to say it," luke's voice is soft.

y/n's confusion returns, but only for mere seconds before she feels luke's lips on hers. she pulls away from the him, out of shock at what he had just done.

his eyes instantly met hers. his filled with worry as if he messed everything up the two had between them.

before luke could start to overthink everything, y/n leaned up to kiss him. his eyes closed, and his hand went to both sides of her face.

y/n's lips tasted like sugar, with a hint of salt. luke guessed it was from tasting her cookies to get them as perfect as she can for percy's birthday.

luke's lips tasted like a campfire. y/n could only assume it was from the smores hermes cabin had after winning capture the flag that day.

y/n's hands were still blue, and in order to not stain luke or his clothing, she opted to wrap her arms around his shoulders. she felt luke's hands on her waist, only pulling her closer to him.

soon enough luke's tongue pushed through y/n's lips, which caused her to giggle. luke loved her reaction.

before anything could get more heated, a timer goes off in the small kitchen. the loud shrill made luke and y/n stop their movements. y/n only looked at luke sheepishly. the girl leaned in once more and pecked the boy's lips, before retrieving the cookies out of the oven.

"do you want any help?" luke asks, watching y/n again as she started rolling out more balls of cookie dough.

she nods, "if you don't mind your hands getting blue."

luke laughs, "i'm willing to take that chance."

[helianthus-tarot]

RELATIONSHIP: What do men think about you? How do they see you? (general)

This reading is about men, people who identify as men and/or people who have a strong masculine energy, and their perception of you. It's meant to be about men as a group, but you can try asking about your person, though I can't promise you'll get an accurate answer. If you want to ask about a woman, or someone with a strong feminine energy, you can try, but again, I can't promise you'll get an accurate answer. Keep in mind, when we talk about perception, it's bound to be biased in some way, so if you get a negative message, don't let it affect your self-esteem.

I posted the extended version on my Patreon which includes what do men who are ❤️ romantically attracted ❤️ to you think about you 👀📝 There are other 60+ fun and juicy readings on Patreon too so definitely check it out!

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Instructions: Focus on the topic and ask yourself the question. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to or that you can’t stop looking at. Trust your intuition. May the message resonate. Let me know which pile you choose! Feedback is appreciated!

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PILE 1

General: 10 of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, 6 of Swords Rx (The Hermit). The Sun, The High Priestess.

They sense a stable and grounded vibe from you; they think that you are the type of person who moves slowly or who takes time to evaluate things before you make your decisions, the type of person who considers future impacts and future gains when you make your decisions, the type of person who cares about being sensible, like, having good personal finance skills, knowing how to take care of your health, etc. Some of them think you come from a wealthy family, upper middle class and above, you are privileged, or you receive material support from your family. For some of you, this could be the wealth or the material comfort that you’ve built on your own, but they assume it’s provided by your family.

Despite the privilege/wealth they think you have, whether it’s coming from your own effort or your family, they think you are also generous with it. You share your abundance with others, you guide and help others when you can, especially by providing practical help or material help. So them seeing you as well-off isn’t really coming from jealousy or envy, it isn’t something they do to look down on you or to treat you like you grew up spoiled; it’s just something they think you have, and they think you use it for good.

Some of them see you as someone who could be a good spouse, whether they are romantically interested in you or not. They could simply think that you’ll make a nice partner for their own son/daughter/etc, for example. They think you’re quite reserved and conservative. What I mean by conservative here is not necessarily you believing in traditional beliefs, it’s just that, you give off the vibe of someone who doesn’t really party a lot, you are kind but you aren’t exactly a social butterfly, perhaps you prefer to stay at home and cook or read or do activities that are pretty lowkey or that make you feel calm and stable. That vibe. You come across as committed and responsible to them, hence a good spouse material.

But they also think that you secretly have some wounds or sources of stress that you haven’t moved on from, and they wonder if these wounds are the things that make you feel a little distant sometimes, like, you don’t properly open up. Some of you lowkey give off a sombre vibe, despite outwardly showing that you are happy or you are enjoying your time and interactions with people, so they pick up on it.

You ‘make’ them feel at ease with themselves, they feel like they can be who they truly are around you and perhaps they also feel like you bring out their good sides, you ‘make’ them feel inspired or encouraged to be truthfully and authentically themselves. For some of them, your responsible vibe brings out their inner child, so they usually get the desire to express themselves more around you, without shame, without insecurities. Some of them may be more playful too as a result, it depends on their age, but they could ‘poke’ you playfully so you come out of your restraint, especially if you have a serious demeanour. They also feel open towards you, they feel inclined to receive you with open arms. You evoke curiosity too, hence why some of them may poke you playfully just so they can see more of you. Some of them are drawn to you in a way that they can’t explain, though this is probably because you bring out their inner child.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝

PILE 2

General: The Empress Rx (Judgement Rx), The Moon Rx (3 of Wands Rx), Temperance. Ace of Swords, 10 of Cups.

They think you are mild-mannered and placid, kinda passive. Perhaps you don’t react much, or perhaps they often see you taking the less confrontational way out. There’s this appropriate, agreeable and peaceful vibe coming from you, like you try to be mature, and patient, and try not to ruffle feathers. They think you often choose to be the bigger person, but some of them disagree with this decision. They think there are situations where you need to be more forceful and push for what you want, but you choose not to. Some of them could think that your peacefulness is actually coming from a lack of maturity (as if you aren’t fully ‘developed/mature’ yet to them, whatever this means) and a lack of self-assurance. Basically they think you haven’t properly come into yourself or stepped into your power. 

This is just an example, let’s say you chose not to confront a problematic situation because you were secretly scared or you were insecure about something related to it, but you acted as if you just didn’t want to fight or force things to go your way, you wanted to be mature so you chose to let go of that situation instead. That’s the vibe that they get from you, or that’s the assumption they make about you. You sound wise when you talk and they might think that you are interested in the spiritual or philosophical side of things, but yeah. Remember this is their perception, in reality it could be that you actually speak and act from experience and wisdom.

They think you are secretive about your feelings, not in a good way, they think you suppress a lot of things, especially negative emotions. They think you often choose to show a smooth and kind demeanour to the world instead of the murky, ugly feelings that you truly have. And some of them see this as harmful, because they think you aren’t really dealing with those, or you don’t really address those issues. Honestly if they are right about you, I wonder if you have Enneagram 9, because this sounds like it.

Some of you may not fit the beauty standard, they think you look like you could become more beautiful but you are still in the process of becoming, you’re still in that awkward stage or the stage where you haven’t quite realised your own worth/value/beauty yet. They may not see you as someone to pursue romantically, or to introduce to someone else, because of the lack of self-assurance that they perceive, they think you aren’t properly yourself, like you suppress parts of yourself and you could have insecurities with regard to that, and you don’t seem like you are open to working on those either.

Whether they are romantically interested in you or not, your presence makes them think about your romantic potential, about how you act in a group and around other people. Especially if you are a woman, some men think about the romantic potential of women around them, especially when they are deciding whether they want to stay friends or pursue something more. And they can be critical of your romantic potential, of how you act around people and in a group; it’s like their critical nature comes out more when you are around, their mind starts to turn and they start to sit and think and observe, and notice things that could be problems if you were to become their partner or their friend’s partner, etc. It’s very clinical though, I’m not saying it’s good, but they aren’t actively trying to be mean when they think these things.

Despite that, they think a connection/friendship with you can be very pleasant, not much drama because you aren’t the type for it, and so they are open to including you in their group, they are open to being nice to you and getting along with you. Some of them could see you as someone to protect, despite not having romantic feelings for you.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝

PILE 3

General: 5 of Wands Rx (Ace of Swords), The Emperor Rx (Ace of Wands), 6 of Pentacles. 4 of Swords, Page of Swords.

They think you are assertive and confident, but there’s a negative connotation to this. Not super negative to the point that they hate you, no, but it bothers them a little. They think you are outspoken and combative, you fight for what you believe in, you say what you think, you stand strong in yourself, but they think there’s something wrong with this, or they think you need to do it in a certain way, or in a better way, you need to be less this or less that. It’s that kind of feeling. You behave in a way that ruffles their feathers lol. 

In reality, it could be that you are actually pretty chill, you know how to balance yourself, when to push and when to wait and receive, you may not be that aggressive or difficult, just healthily assertive and forward (some of you actually come with rough edges, but I don’t think these are bad). Regardless, many of them just don’t receive your masculine traits well, as if those traits challenge their masculinity or beliefs/comfort in some way. Some of them could think that you are a little stuck-up or full of yourself, perhaps they judge this based on your demeanour (or your face, maybe you have a resting bitch face), so when you are just out and about minding your business, getting what you want, to them it looks like you are acting as if you own the place lol.

Some of them could pick up on your more playful side, but perhaps you don’t show it often or openly. It feels like for some of you, they think your playful side is something they need to bring out, and in order to do that, they need to deal with your sharp edges. Despite the edges that they think should be smoothen out, they think you are generous and helpful. You share what you have with people who need it, especially things like skills, expertise, practical knowledge, money and material possessions. When you are in this energy, they think you come across as reliable, secure and responsible. It’s the quality that brings out your calmness and conscientiousness. Some of them think you are good with children, or good with people who need your help since you know how best to support those people. It’s a good quality that they think you have, yet there’s that but.

But they are often triggered by you. Again, not in a super negative way, they don’t actually hate you, not really. It’s just that you make them want to say something to you, to poke you, to challenge you, to get you to talk and respond to them, to argue with you a bit. It’s like you disturb their peace for some odd reason, and they have a lot of opinions about it. They could be slightly mean with their words just to see how you react or just to scratch the itch of their annoyance. They may be randomly or unexplainably confrontational, making sharp comments out of nowhere, or telling you what they think about you unprovoked and in a way that isn’t really kind, as if they have no social skills to handle the situation with tact. You ‘disturb’ their peace, now they want to do the same to you. 

Some of them could take a more playful approach; they could intentionally be annoying towards you, tease you, make jokes and start random conversations with you, just to get you to respond to them. You evoke curiosity and desire to know, the way they go after this varies, like I’ve described, it depends on how kind and mature they are. Some of them may not be able to leave you alone without some kind of annoying behaviour or comment. They act like they know who you are, but it’s like, there’s a subconscious part of them that is lowkey open to change, as if they’re waiting to be proven wrong or they are waiting for reasons to change their mind about you. Perhaps they secretly feel like they don’t completely understand you, hence the desire to poke around.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝

PILE 4

General: The Sun, 4 of Pentacles Rx (King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles), The Empress. The Hanged Man, The World Rx.

You seem very genuine and positive to them. Your vibe is light and joyful, like a beautiful butterfly, it’s like you shine wherever you go. They think you like to laugh or smile, or you bring a lot of laughter and joy to people. They think you make people feel comfortable, you make your surroundings more beautiful and positive. They think you are full of inspiration and you seek to live your life the way you want, instead of following what’s accepted or what’s well-regarded by the external world. There’s this authenticity about you that is very freeing or liberating, like someone who passionately pursues what brings them joy and lives their best life. There’s a childlike quality to you, maybe you look youthful, or you give off a youthful, sunny vibe. Despite you having the wisdom to know that the world isn’t always good and nice, they think you are the type of person who chooses to see the good in others and the world anyway. Despite your youthful vibe, they don’t see you as naive.

They think you attract attention; some of them think it’s because of your vibe, it’s positive to be around you. Some of them think it’s because of your looks/beauty. Some of them think it’s both. They think you are stereotypically beautiful (i.e. you meet the beauty standard), or you take good care of yourself, like smelling and looking good, which makes you look beautiful. They think you have a good self-esteem, you value yourself, you know your own worth, so you live your life like that, but without arrogance. They think you are loving, generous and kind; to people, to animals and plants. It’s the vibe that they pick up on.

If you are a woman, they could think that you like stereotypically feminine things, like jewellery or the colour pink, cooking or baking, or being a homemaker or a mother. They think you deserve to live a good life, you deserve to have your needs met and some more. They think you aren’t closed off, you are open, you show your vulnerability with grace and integrity, you aren’t ashamed of what makes you human. When you have something you are working on, like a flaw or a weakness, you don’t mind showing it to them. So they can only acknowledge the emotional maturity that comes with that ability, i.e. they think you can do that because you are emotionally secure.

You ‘make’ them feel calm, to be honest, it’s like being around you put them into this introspective mode. They start thinking and pondering life, and feeling open to having their perspectives changed, to shift their understanding, and to look deeper into things. You make them more philosophical, and possibly also spiritual. Maybe through their observation of you, or words that you say; they learn more about the world and themselves, about their previous beliefs and misconceptions and how these can change, about a better way to be, a better approach to take, nuances they haven’t considered. They are also more patient around you, gentler and slower to react. They feel more open and willing to change their ways and adapt to you. Some of them are also more open to giving you what you need, even if it’s not something they normally do.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝

[barefoothighlander]

never going back again - 02

summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup

simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), mentions of eating, nightmares, mention of alcohol, mutual pining

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It was the calmest he'd ever been, lounging around the cottage with you near, he wasn't much for conversation but he enjoyed asking you questions, how long you'd lived there,

"3 years next month, I bought it a while back after moving here on a whim"

What you did all day,

"Garden and read, lots of painting, even more cooking"

It was all so foreign to him, the idea of living one day at a time, not worrying about the outside world or whether or not your life was in danger, he'd realized quickly that this was the first time he felt safe in years, even with the looming threat of enemies outside and the lack of contact to his team. It did occur to him that if he didn't reach out eventually he would be labelled MIA, but to a man who wasn't even legally alive, the prospect of never seeing his team again didn't worry him a bit, what did worry him was the burning smell from the kitchen.

"What are you doing in here?"

"I was trying a new recipe, it's harder than it looks" You rush to turn off the stove, quickly pulling the pan from the surface and using a towel to waft the smoke.

"I thought you were good at cooking"

"No I said I liked cooking, not that I was any good" You huff while reaching to open the small window above the sink, allowing the fumes to migrate through the opening.

He leans his hands against the table "It doesn't look that bad"

"You're a terrible liar, has anyone ever told you that"

"Most say I've got a great poker face" He tilts his head, you respond with an unamused haha,

He stands to his full height, moving towards you "Let me"

"Let you what"

"Cook, I'll make dinner"

"Anything's better than this" You nudge towards the pan of burnt food, straightening your clothes before allowing him the step to the stove. You turn to sit at the table, watching as he moves around the kitchen with ease, grabbing ingredients from various spots while you point him toward the proper cabinets.

"Where'd you learn to cook?"

"Had to figure out a way to feed myself once I left home"

"They don't feed you at work?"

"They do, but it's mostly inedible, more nutrient based than anything"

"Did your mum cook?"

He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to realize the words that come from your mouth, your smile fading quickly, "I'm sorry I forgot"

"S'alright, she um, she didn't often but some Sundays she'd make a roast, best meal I ever ate"

He turns to you, his gaze soft as you smile slightly in response,

"Well let's hope her skills weren't wasted on you"

He laughs lightly, a real laugh before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the stove. You watch as he prepares the food for a few minutes, reaching across the counter to add spices,

"So what are you making?"

"I am making" He stops his sentence, turning off the stove and twisting to face you, "French toast"

"French toast?"

"I said I could cook, not that I know a lot of recipes"

You cover your mouth as you laugh, your eyes creasing at the sides as he places a plate in front of you,

"Well, it smells great"

The two of you dig into the food, your gaze focused on the plate as you allow him the privacy to lift his mask up slightly, revealing his mouth, falling into a comfortable silence as you eat, Simon smiles to himself as you make a small hum of approval,

"You can't be serious"

"What'd I do?"

"That's like a cup of syrup"

"So?"

"You're teeth are going to rot from your head"

"What if they already have"

You scrunch your face at the thought, "At least it'd explain the mask"

"You don't have to turn away you know"

You make a small huh? in response,

"When I pull on my mask, I don't mind you seeing parts of my face"

"I just assumed"

"I know, but you don't have to turn away"

"Okay" Your voice is smaller, intrigue and confusion mixed into it as you nod. “How’s your cut”

“Healing, thanks to you, still tender”

“Can I” You turn your eyes to his, standing from the table to kneel by his side, his breath catches in his throat as you lower your body, your fingers inches from his stomach.

He nods lightly in permission, lifting his shirt for you and settling it on his lower stomach, your fingers pressing gently on the sides of his wound as you inspect it. His eyes stare at your face, holding back a smile as you bite your lip in concentration, you stand, turning behind to grab some new bandages from the cabinet behind you before returning to your position in front of him.

You brace your fingers against his skin, tugging at his bandage,

“Sorry”

“Doesn’t hurt”

You tilt your head to him and he’s watching you, his eyes locked on your face, your cheeks flush slightly under his stare, turning your attention towards his wound as you dress it, pressing the bandage into his skin. You let your fingers linger for a moment, feeling his stomach rise and fall with each breath before you slowly pull away, standing up and nodding.

“That should do”

“Thank you”

“It’s nothing”

“Thank you” He repeats in a lower, softer voice as he lets his shirt fall into place.

"Any idea when your ear thing will work again?"

"You trying to kick me out?"

"No" You widen your eyes at your quick response, "Just, want to make sure there isn't someone at home missing you"

"There isn't"

You mouth a small oh before turning your gaze toward the window, "It's late, you should rest"

"Right"

There's tension between the two of you, neither wants to leave the others company yet at the same time, neither of you will do anything about it.

"I'll see you in the morning" You smile, passing through the kitchen towards your room and closing the door, leaving Simon alone.

He wakes in a blind panic, the sky outside still dark as he blinks his eyes, turning his head towards your door, he can hear you shouting, rustling around and without thinking he enters the room. Your limbs are twisted between the sheets, jolting around as you mumble, he takes a step back as you sit up, your chest heavy.

You clutch your chest at the sight of him, lurking in the doorframe,

"You scared me"

"You were having a nightmare"

"Yeah, they happen sometimes"

It's then that you notice he's not wearing his mask, the room is dark but there's enough light for you to make out the curve of his nose,

He scratches the back of his head, "Okay" turning to leave,

"Simon"

He lazily turns his gaze back to you, responding with a small hmm.

"Will you stay, it's just"

He cuts you off, "Easier to sleep with someone beside you"

"Please"

"Of course"

You watch as he crosses the room, looming beside your bed as you pull the sheets to cover you, feeling the mattress dip under his weight as he settles in. He lays awkwardly on his back, his arms crossed over his stomach, you watch his chest rise and fall, without thinking you slide your palm against it, your fingers light on the fabric of his shirt as you move closer, pressing your chest against his side and resting your head on his shoulder. He snakes an arm around you, letting you nestle against him as his hand settles gently on your arm, his touch feather-light as he tries to keep a consistent heartbeat.

You must've fallen asleep shortly after, waking to the sun streaming into the room, your limbs tangled between his, both of you had turned in your sleep, his chest now pressed against your back as his arms held snugly against your waist. You can feel his steady breath fan across your neck, his face close enough that the tip of his nose grazes your skin, he's so warm, the sheets on the bed long forgotten in your sleep and the heat coming from him is more than enough.

You reach a hand to his arm, tracing over the lines of his tattoo and you feel him tighten his grip, his stable breaths now ragged as he wakes up. It takes him a moment to realize the position he's in, his brain doing little to comprehend the situation.

"Do you have something in your pocket?"

He pulls from you instantly, jolting upwards and turning around as you giggle,

"M'sorry" His voice is groggy, his accent thicker than usual.

"It's fine"

He keeps his gaze away from you, anxiously stretching his limbs before you realize,

"I'm gonna shower, I'll turn away so I don't"

"Thank you"

You can only see the back of his head, his blonde hair that's a mess, the outline of his head as he nods, shaking your thoughts as you move out of the room.

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, hoping that he didn't get a chance to see you that morning either, your hair was everywhere, the skin under your eyes dark from your usual lack of sleep as you strip your pyjamas, turning on the faucet.

You stand in the warm water, letting it wash over you, hoping it would calm your rampant thoughts as you hear Simon moving around behind the door.

You step out of the shower, wrapping your body in a towel and smoothing your hair back before opening the door, the steam wafting from the small room into the house.

“Where’s the kettle?”

“Top left cabinet”

You stand in the doorway, your hands squeezing the water from your hair as you look at him,

“Thanks”

He turns quickly to you and his body freezes, his eyes glued to your practically naked form as you stand, the beads of water dripping from your warm skin.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yep, just making tea”

“Okay, bags are in the lower cupboard”

He nods awkwardly, furrowing your brows at him before turning around, he lets out a heavy breath as you leave, leaning back against the counter as he drops his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Shit” He mumbles to himself, adjusting his pants feeling them grow tighter as his mind runs circles around the sight of you, replaying the way your fingers traced over his skin, and scent of your hair as he rested his head against yours. He was awake most of the night, listening to you breath, smiling lightly as you mumble about nothing, you were soft, he’d never had soft before always jagged and dark.

His mind snaps back as you call from the other room,

“Are you any good at fixing things?”

“Depends, what needs fixing”

“The shutters outside, they’re falling apart”

“I could give them a look”

You appear in the entry, smiling at him, now clothed with your hair pulled back, he just watches you in awe, the fact that you could look so perfect no matter the circumstances, you could be caked in mud and still make his heart flutter.

The two of you sit for tea and chat about nothing, asking more questions that he dodges while you openly answer everything he had wondering about.

“I think you’re his new favourite”

Simon makes a small huh before you nudge your head toward his feet, the small cat nestling itself against his calf.

“Strange”

“He’s not strange”

“Not him just, I’ve never had a cat do this”

“Well get used to it”

He smiles under his mask, he could get used to this, spending his days with you, cooking and drinking tea, just enjoying each others company around the house.

“The shutters”

You set your cup down, nodding at him, “There’s some tools in the shed outside, not sure what’s left but maybe they’d help”

“I’ll get right on it then”

It was sweltering outside, the sun beaming down without a cloud in the sky as Simon tries to navigate his way around fixing the shutters. You see him through the window, his arms flexing as he unscrews some things and nails in others, you had no idea what he was doing but he looked good.

I’m hot, he must be hot you fan yourself with your hand, pulling the hair from your sweat glistened neck, eyes darting around the kitchen before an idea clicks in your head.

“Beer”

It’s the only word you can manage to think of as your eyes fall on him, somewhere in the last few minutes he’d stripped himself of his shirt, tucking the loose material into the belt of his pants as his sweat dripped down his skin.

“Cheers, love one”

Your throat dries, nodding as you extend a n arm toward him, the cold glass of the drink transferring to his grip as he tips it towards you in thanks, turning around to lift his mask slightly before taking a sip. Your eyes trailing down his muscled form, roaming over every ridge of his stomach before moving back up.

“Must be hot with the mask”

“Get used to it”

You take a few gulps of your own drink, running the glass across your skin in an attempt to cool yourself. He turns his gaze back to you, watching as you let the beverage run across your skin, leaving a trail of drips behind, he can’t tell if you’re teasing him or this is just how you act naturally.

“How’s it looking”

“Great”

“So you’re almost done”

“Huh?” His eyes pull back to yours,

“Are you almost done, it’s getting unbearable out here”

“Yeah, nearly there”

“Great, I’ll be inside”

The rest of the evening was calm, the two of you doing your best to stay cool in the small cottage as the sun set over the horizon, deciding on cooking something that didn’t involve the use of heat, settling on sandwiches for dinner.

“Mind if I shower, I’m covered in sweat”

“Yea of course” Your mind floods with the sight of his bare form, thankful that the hot air masked the flush of your cheeks, “Towels are in the washroom”

He nods, standing from the table to move toward the shower, closing the door behind him before turning it on. You blow out a long breath, bracing your hands against the table before turning your head at the sound of him wincing,

“You alright?” You call

“Yeah, just sore”

“Well hurry up, I’ll check your stitches”

You sit impatiently as he showers, nervously tidying the kitchen as you wait, your chest fluttering as you hear the shower turn off.

“Figured it’s easier if I just put my shirt on later”

He must be doing this on purpose, once again your eyes roam his form, his sweat replaced by dripping water as his freshly cleaned skin draws your attention,

“Sure, easier”

He sits on the couch, leaning back and positioning his arm against the top to allow you a better view to his stitches, to your surprise they’re doing well, no inflammation or bleeding, they look good.

“S’good, should be able to take them out soon”

“Great”

“Might leave a scar”

“Adds to the collection”

You pass your gaze over the skin of his chest, littered with scars, some small and others long, some old and some new.

“I’m fine”

“I know you are”

“It only hurts a little, when it happens”

“And someone did this to you”

“A few people”

“How many is a few?” You stare at him with rounded eyes,

“Nothing you need to worry about”

You soften your gaze, standing from the couch,

“I guess we should sleep now” His eyes follow your movements, he shifts in his spot trying to get comfortable,

“Simon, would you- nevermind”

“What do you need?”

“I felt bad waking you last night and I was thinking maybe, if we slept in the same bed I wouldn’t have any, you know”

“Yeah, I’d like that- you not having nightmares” He fumbles over his last words, trying to keep himself together at the prospect of once again having you close.

“Okay” You walk nervously toward your room, the simple action now feeling foreign as he trails behind you, “I’ll keep the lights off if you want”

He nods, closing the door behind him as you get into the bed, shuffling around a little before finding comfort in your position, you turn to your side but keep your eyes on him as he reaches to tug his mask off, your mind trying to piece together what he might look like behind the sharp lines of his shadowed face.

He sets himself beside you, moving an apprehensive arm under your pillow, making sure you were okay with it. You push back against him, your body perfectly slotting in front of his as his other arm settles around your waist, you hold it with your fingers, your thumb rubbing against the skin as you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

You’re asleep in no time, the warmth of the air combined with the comfort of Simon behind you lulling you into a dream while he stays up, his arms tucked against you, it was the most comfortable he’d been in years, maybe ever and be didn’t dare move, his body freezing everytime you moved a leg against him or squeezed his forearm lightly, they were like subconscious reminders that you wanted him there and it warmed his heart, melting against you as he tucked his nose against the nape of your neck, your hair brushing against his skin.

He wakes to an empty bed and a weight on his chest, opening his heavy eyes to the sight of Goliath,

“Good morning kitty”

He runs a hand across his back, smiling lightly as he purrs against his touch before he jumps off, startled by the sounds from the house. Simon quickly realizes that he’s not wearing a mask, it’s light out, and you’re not there, a small panic setting into his nerves as he stands.

He tugs on his mask and a shirt before leaving the room, pressing his side against the frame as he watches you move around the kitchen, steeping some tea while you clean up.

“Mornin”

You turn around with a wide smile, “Sleep well?” You ask, leaning against the counter,

“Best in years” He’s being honest, something about you was so comfortable, safe, he wanted to stay forever, if this was what life had in store for him then he’d accept it with open arms.

“Good, cause I think I found that wire you needed”

His heart sinks in an instant, “You did?”

“I think so, was tucked back in the drawer”

“Oh, I’ll see if it’s the right one then”

You smile, turning back to the kettle that had begun whistling as Simon panics, it was too soon, he wanted more time, he needed to figure out a way to stay longer, something good that would keep him here at least a few more days.

“The bathrooms got mold in it” It was the best he could come up with, he hated lying to you.

“Huh?” You turn with your brows furrowed,

“The bathroom, noticed it last night, I can’t fix it if you’d like”

“Are you sure, I didn’t see any”

“Easy to miss sometimes, it’s just near the drain, shouldn’t take more than a day to clean up”

“Yeah sure, just let me know what you need”

He nods, fighting back a smile of success behind his mask, excusing himself from your direct line of sight before internally celebrating, before stopping to think to himself,

Now I’ve gotta figure out how to retile a shower.

[munsonthings86]

sunshine

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a love-struck steve cooks you dinner for the first time

warnings: cursing, alcohol, bit of backstory, oversimplified summary, steve's parents kinda suck (when do they not), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, soft!steve

an: i think this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written. i'm so in love with these two. i hope you all enjoy this one as much as i do. * don’t copy my work * (also pretend there's a big city near hawkins for the sake of this pls)

wc: 6.0k

“Ow!” Steve hissed, nicking his finger yet again as he made his best effort to dice pesky onions. The knife was razor-sharp as it was fresh out of its packaging, having never been used yet. Frustrated, he squeezed the band-aid he'd spent a solid ten minutes looking for, tighter on his finger, earning a harsh sting.

"Goddamned knife," he whispered, tightlipped, but as soon as the complaint left his lips he wished to yank it back in. It was the chef's knife you'd bought him along with many other thoughtful housewarming gifts to celebrate Steve moving into his first apartment. Steve had insisted that you return some of the gifts, noting that "one gift was more than he could ever ask for".

In spite of his pleas, you didn't return a single gift. Of course, you didn't. You had bought items you knew Steve would need but would ultimately forget to buy for himself. Just to name a few, you'd gotten him a trash bin for his bathroom, a record player, and the best utensil set that the rest of your Family Video paycheck could buy.

Peering at the odd assortment of household objects you'd lugged into his barren apartment with a bright smile pulling at the corners of your lips, an expression of gratitude and bewilderment claimed his face. Steve's round, chestnut-brown eyes ogled yours as you ranted and raved, explaining your thought process behind each purchase.

The record player was for nights like these. Peaceful nights indoors, simply enjoying each other's company without the tense presence of his parents who would shout for him to turn that damn music down if he even thought about letting the needle hit the groove of the record.

"Now we can play music as loud and as much as we want to," he remembered you saying, blushing at your use of the word "we". Though you two were only best friends and have been since grade school, Steve couldn't help but fantasize about a life with you. You, drowning in one of his bigger-than-you t-shirts, prancing around the apartment as you listened to some your favorite records.

He'd begun pondering on how he would rearrange the bit of furniture he had, that'd allow for space for your belongings as well, before you lured him out of his thoughts, defending the bin.

From what he gathered, you bought the garbage bin due to his burning inability to keep his bathroom clean. Steve was someone who took great care of his appearance, always well-kempt and attentive to even the smallest of details.

His bathroom did not reflect this, whatsoever. He had a bad habit of harboring empty cans and bottles of Farrah Fawcett spray that littered the already limited counter space he had in his en suite bathroom.

Steve was such a boy when it came to tidiness.

Everyone knew that about Steve, though. What they didn’t know, however, was how skilled he was in a kitchen. After being left to his lonesome whenever his parents would venture off to one of their many business trips, Steve spent his nights learning to cook after his allowance dwindled and he couldn't afford pizza delivery anymore. The second he'd clock in for his shift at Family Video, he'd make a beeline to where you stood, stocking VHS tapes, and instantly began buzzing and bustling about the new recipe he tried the night before.

You had begged him to let you come over one night to taste one of his home-cooked meals, but his response was always the same. "You can't rush perfection, sweets. But I promise, when I'm ready to grace the world with my master chef skills, you'll be the first to know."

You would roll your eyes dramatically at him but admittedly, you felt a sense of pride wash over you whenever Steve would tell you about his cooking endeavors. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but you knew how much his parents being so negligent, so often, bothered him.

Though they were never the most warm and affectionate, there seemed to be a colder chill and heavier sense of loneliness in the house when they were gone. That's why you never denied Steve whenever he'd call late at night asking if it was okay to spend the night at your house.

He always felt at home there.

Steve learning to cook for himself meant that his parents' absence was finally beginning to help him grow; no longer craving validation and tenderness from his family. He got that when he was with you. That's what the utensil set was for. A silent sign saying that though his parents weren't there, you were.

"Don't get me wrong, sunshine, I love the gift, but why's this knife so funny looking?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes at the sharp object that looked like it was from some alien universe. It had three square-like holes infiltrating the blade, and the tip came to an up-turned point that split in two. The handle was the only average looking part about it.

"That, my friend, is a cheese knife," you answered matter-of-factly, gazing at the box that had all of the included utensils neatly labeled.

"They make knives specifically for cheese?"

"Apparently, yeah," you snorted, tossing the empty box off to the side of the room with the other discarded cardboard that you made a mental note to move to the recycling bin on your way out. Steve never recycled. Bad habit he picked up from his parents, you figured.

"Well, I can't wait to use my weird new knife. Thank you. Seriously," Steve smiled softly as he watched you with those big brown eyes that voiced his gratitude and sentiment louder than his words ever could.

"The best weird chef has to have the best weird equipment. You're welcome," you grinned, toying with the loose thread dangling from your distressed band tee, as your eyes collided with Steve’s.

Looking at Steve was hard.

In the midst of quiet and almost intimate moments like these, the nerves bolting through your body screamed at you to look anywhere else, but the greed of your heart yearned for you to keep drinking in the deep chocolate pools that were Steve Harrington's eyes.

The two of you gazed at each other for another second, though it felt identical to a blissful eternity, until Steve furrowed his eyebrows after registering what you'd just uttered. "Did you just call me weird?" He asked, hand on his hip as if he's offended, though he truthfully isn't because he's positive you're infinitely weirder than he is, and he's more than willing to debate with you for hours on that topic.

"Nooo," you sang, quickly turning away to distract yourself with some unpacking that Steve had called you over to help him with, which you happily agreed to. A little extra time with him was time well spent.

"Yeah, okay," he rolled his eyes. He happily tucked away the flashy silverware he'd poached from his parent's kitchen into the darkest corner of the drawer, leaving the less flashy but much more appreciated utensils you bought him, front and center, ready to be shown off.

"Oh those? My best friend got them for me. Aren't they nice? Did you know they make knives for cheese?" He imagined himself saying, hoping he'd get the opportunity to boast about them to his guests some time soon.

Steve smiled to himself at the memory, angling the cutting board that harbored a pile of diced onions that he'd at last conquered, into a bowl, sliding them off with the blade of a knife that was a lot less odd shaped compared to his trusty cheese knife. It didn't even have to be that specific memory. It could've been any imagery of you being the effortlessly sarcastic, intelligent, breath-taking person that you were, and it would be the warm light to inevitably guide him out of whatever dark mood that dared to plague him.

Steve was so helplessly in love with you.

April 14, 1978, he could never forget the day, was particularly dreary. So dreary it made Steve begin to question why the spring time was thought to be such a radiant, pleasant season when all it ever did was bring rain and provoke people with allergies. Steve slammed his blaring alarm off with a groan, never bothering to pry open his tired eyes.

The sky was dark and dreadful, concealing the golden rays of the sun he yearned to see. As he trudged through the house, reluctantly gearing himself up for yet another torturous day of middle school, Steve silently prayed for some unorthodox happenstance that would call for the canceling of school.

But much to his dismay, that wasn't the case.

When the bell pierced through the classroom speakers, alerting the beginning of Steve's favorite class, P.E., he rushed to the locker room, jumping into his gym uniform, as he was determined to continue his unfaltering streak of dodgeball victories.

Steve was in the zone, taking out his opponents left and right as if it was nothing. If dodgeball was an Olympic sport, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he could've won multiple gold medals.

Then you came.

Sauntering into sixth grade gym class, adorning a lengthy, bright yellow dress with your hair done up, looking as anxious as can be. It was your first day at Hawkins Middle and you'd just transferred halfway into the semester, all thanks to your parents decision to move to the small town, leaving New York City and all your friends behind.

Everyone turned their curious heads to peer at you, whispering amongst each other, prompting you to clutch your books tighter to your chest as if to shield yourself. Your soft smile as you looked around at your new classmates instantly made Steve's chest and stomach warm and gooey inside, making him want nothing more than to walk up to you and convince you to be his friend. Steve hated how gossipy his classmates were, as it clearly made you uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to look away either.

The way the illuminous medallion hue complimented your skin tone was nothing short of art. To him, you were the sun personified. The sun he was so eager to see.

Due to your lack of sports attire, Coach Daniels had you sit on the bleachers, watching as the other kids resumed their game of dodgeball after mumbling a "warm" welcome to you, per Coach's request.

Steve lost his first game of dodgeball that day. He just couldn't seem to focus when you were perched just a few feet away, thumbing through your withered book, looking like one of the prettiest girls he'd ever laid his adolescent eyes on. Steve, or the boy with the hella good hair as you dubbed him in your diary later on that night, was too enamored with you to be bothered by the taunts coming from his friends. He jogged over to you, offering to keep you company until fourth period began, which you happily accepted.

And ever since then, the two of you have been as thick as thieves.

"Hawkins PD, open up!" Steve recognized your muffled voice, though you deepened it, to imitate a police officer. Your signature three knocks followed, urging butterflies to erupt throughout his stomach, as he longed to see you. It couldn't have been more than twenty-four hours since the two of you had last seen each other, but even one hour without you was an hour way too long for poor Steve.

"It's open", Steve called, tossing a hand towel over his shoulder, setting the stove ablaze, planting a pot over the flame. Right on time, he thought.

"Hey, Harrington," you smiled as you struggled to enter, cradling two bottles of rosé wine and your purse in your arms, pushing the door open with the help of your hip.

"Hey, sunshine. Lemme get those for ya," Steve offered, stowing your bearings on the counter gently, while you kicked your shoes off, mumbling a "thanks".

A warm amber light casted from the ceiling of the kitchen spilled into the shadowy living room a few feet away, like a neglected can of paint. The only thing that remained un-melted by the darkness was the quiet record player, as if the generous light knew you'd be looking for it the minute you walked in.

"How was your day?" Steve smirked as he watched you rush over to the object he swore was the only reason you liked to come over, sifting through the vinyl's searching for your favorite one. What’s Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner. Steve spotted it before you did. Absentmindedly, you responded, “Not too shabby, ya know? How was yours?”

“Yeah, it was alright.”

You crouched down to the two tier storage table, running a finger across the spines of the records, searching for your beloved song. It quickly became the song you most adored when you'd bought the tape for your Walkman a few years prior. Your days weren't complete unless you played the song at least twice, so much so that Steve found himself quietly humming the song to himself whenever he'd miss you. He even caught himself doing that dumb little finger dance you normally did whenever you listened to a song you really liked. He'd never tell you that, though.

Much to your dismay, you couldn't seem to spy that sneaky record. You dropped your hand disappointedly, faintly fearsome that it'd been misplaced. Steve's apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly tidy either. “It’s right there, sweets. To your left.” So you diverted your attention to the left. No Tina Turner. “No, your other left.”

“Here?” you pointed. Steve hummed in confirmation.

“Well, that’s not the left, Steve. That’s the right,” was your response that you punctuated with a roll of your tired eyes. Apart from knowing how to get to Skull Rock with his eyes closed, the boy had zero sense of direction. It was something you found both endearing and infuriating. It depended on the day, really.

“Potato, potahto.” Oh, Steve. Melting butter into the burning pan in front of him that he almost completely forgot about, all thanks to your beautiful presence, he began sautéing his diced onions along with some fresh garlic. "Well, speaking of 'potahtoes' you need to be cooking some, 'cause you promised me dinner tonight," you smiled tight-lipped, cocking your head at an angle.

You felt the unpleasant sensation of your stomach growling, cursing you, at the heavenly thought of food as your shift at Family Video earlier today was unforgiving to your non-existent breakfast. You fumbled with the vinyl a bit as the mouthwatering aroma of home cooking stormed your senses and Steve spoke once more. "Feisty today, aren't we?"

"Just a tad," you laughed quietly.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you but tonight we're not having potatoes. I'm making your favorite," he pointed, shuffling the pan to give it a gentle stir. He made sure to turn to face you in time to see your hopefully delighted reaction. "Alfredo?!" you spun around with a glittering grin, almost knocking over Steve's plant. A fake one, of course. A real plant was a bit too much responsibility for him.

At the nod of his head, your cheesy smile soften to a smaller, less toothy one as you watched Steve while he resumed cooking. What you failed to share with your best friend was that the last phrase you'd actually use to describe your day was "not too shabby". Besides waking up almost an entire hour past the start of your shift (Keith made sure to give you an earful about that) and everyone and their mother in town deciding to be at Family Video today, it seemed like your day was never-ending. The only thing keeping your mood from turning stink to sour was the idea of going to see Steve.

Steve was kind of magical in that way. Anger, sadness, anxiety, you name it, it was no match for Steve. Though he was no poet, he had this way with words that would never fail to make you feel so comforted. So safe. Any instance where Steve had to talk you out of whatever mental turmoil you were enduring, it felt you were being endlessly wrapped in a cozy, tight blanket, sheltering you from all the darkness.

How Steve knew you were having a shit day and needed your favorite meal along with your favorite boy? Lord knows. His ability to read you without even needing to be near you was nothing short of wizardry. But like you said. Steve was magical.

"You're the best," you proclaimed, prompting a mumbled sly remark from your chef for the evening, before the music began. Being here, along with the divine sound of Tina's ethereal voice and pasta boiling in water, was more than enough to make you feel like you were right at home, though your true address was miles away. When the time to depart would make its cursed arrival, it was never easy to leave, especially with the way Steve begged for you to stay, using those unfairly adorable puppy dog eyes that paired beautifully with his lengthy lashes, against you.

And it always worked. Well, not always. You had some degree of self-control. But more times than not, you couldn't help but to cave in to his protests. How could you resist? It was Steve.

With a satisfied grin that carved deep smile lines into his blushing cheeks, he'd tuck his sheets snug around your body, repeatedly asking you if you were comfortable enough. His bed was cloud-like, plush and doughy and his pillows smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, a hint of cologne on his comforter. It was like you were trapped in a cocoon of Steve. You wanted to tell him you were beyond comfortable, that there, in his bed, you were in just about your favorite place on Earth but, habitually, you concluded that a simple nod would suffice.

Crawling onto the empty space beside you, he made sure to face you, leaving a soft squeeze on your shoulder before humming "G'night, sunshine," closing his eyes and tucking his hands under his head. And like always, Steve was a perfect gentleman, dead set on never getting under the covers himself when you'd sleep over.

Guilt would disrupt your relaxation at the sight of the brisk night chill building little hills on his freckled arms, though you selfishly loved the way he'd cuddle up to steal some of your body heat. His plump lips would part as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, light snores and chirping crickets being your lullaby.

You hoped to have another night like that soon.

In the midst of times like those, storms of wonder and doubt raged on. Was Steve like this with everyone else? Were you being silly thinking that you and Steve could be more than friends? Being Steve's best friend for nearly a decade, you knew he wasn't exactly a prude. His King Steve era was honestly one of your least favorites. Though he reserved his usual tenderness and affection all for you, you've witnessed a whole slew of girls enter and leave Steve's life, and none of them looked like you.

You wanted nothing more than to be one of the girls he'd have leaned up against his locker, arm resting next to their head, cheeks fanned by his minty breath as he whispered honeyed words. You craved dates at the drive-in theater in Steve's burgundy 1983 BMW only to neglect the movie and end up making out, like he did with other girls.

When Steve would bring his latest lover around, desperately, you did your damnedest to bury your jealousy and and fill its grave with merriment for him, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Steve. But the girls at school only wanted to be with Steve because of his status and all the flashy things he could buy them.

The flashy things were dull to you, though.

You wanted to be with Steve because you wanted to hold his hand and press soft kisses to his cheek. To hug him a little tighter and little longer than a best friend normally would. To run your fingers through his fluffy hair whenever he would grow stressed because you knew it calmed him down. To make him breakfast in bed when he was sick and even when he wasn't. To love him your fullest potential.

But you had to settle for this. Calves tucked under your thighs with a blanket draped over your legs as you stared off into space, longing for someone you thought you couldn't have, not knowing he was stealing glances of you wondering what was running through your pretty little head.

Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, holding your head up, your lips were downturned in a pout, eyebrows pulled together as you studied the throw pillow a few inches away from you. A little pillow can't be that interesting, something has to be bothering you, he thought. He was unapologetically curious to know if pressing his lips against your own would make that frown melt into that sweet smirk you usually had.

Steve hated when you were unhappy. It made his mind race. Did someone say something to you? Did someone do something to you? Did you eat today? How was your shift? Why did you lie when you said your day "wasn't too shabby"? Obviously it was shabby. Look at your face. That tired and troubled, cute little face. What can he do to fix it? You were his sunshine, you deserved to be happy, always.

Giving the pot a final stir and turning the flame off, Steve carelessly tossed the grease-stained hand towel flopped over his shoulder, down by the sink, strolling over to where he'd earlier set down the two bottles of wine. White Zinfandel. Neither you or Steve were wine connoisseurs, but when you called Nancy panicking about how extensive the selection at the liquor store was, she swore by it.

Balancing two glasses and a single bottle of the rose-tinted alcohol, Steve took an extra glance at your face, deciding to scoop up the second bottle into his arms. By the looks of it, it was gonna be one of those nights.

You tried to hide your smile as you noticed he was coming over, a slight grin on his face as he set the glasses down. You and him both knew he was only coming to cause trouble. He set the delicate haul down on to the thrifted wooden coffee table in front of you, slipping you one of those comforting 'Steve smiles' he usually did.

Like the forgotten towel, he threw himself down on the couch next to you, warm hand having a much softer landing on the plush of your thigh; a familiar and welcomed touch. Habitually, you curled up closer to him, no longer able to hide your smile.

"Why so glum, chum?" He tilted his chin down, slightly poking his bottom lip out, as he looked at you through batting eyelashes.

Laughing through your nose and subsequently parading a grin that displayed nothing but teeth and hollow happiness, you remarked, "What do you mean? Don't you see me smiling?"

You were fooling absolutely no one. Steve knew you were sad. And, goddamn it, he was gonna get it out of you.

"You know exactly what I mean, you weren't smiling just a few seconds ago until I came over. You're welcome, by the way, I'm flattered that I have such an effect on you," he smirked, placing a hand on his chest in gratitude.

"Okay, now I'm glum again," you roll your eyes at his not-so discreet cockiness. You hid your face in your hands, resting your forehead on Steve's shoulder. It was hard with muscle, but soft with tenderness and safety. "I was smiling at the wine, for your information."

The palm of your hand that pressed against your face muffled your words, but Steve could still understand what you said, it was evident in the way your tone was laced with satire.

"Ah, yes, that makes way more sense" Steve replied, monotone. His thumb began coasting along your skin as he urged you, "Alright, jokes aside. How are you really feeling?"

Hoisting your head up, you almost answered before he continued, "And don't give me that 'not too shabby' crap 'cause that frown you had going on earlier already snitched on ya."

When the hell did he get so observant? Steve was no idiot, but sometimes things needed to be spelled out for him. But come to think of it, you never had to spell things out for Steve whenever it came to you. He just always had a way of knowing.

"I don't know, Steve. Honestly. Some days are just a bit tougher than others. Today was one of those days," you murmured, avoiding the attentive gaze he was burning into your shifty eyes.

He slowly nodded as he processed your words, head falling on top of yours as you again found comfort on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as you began mimicking the affection he was giving you on your thigh, rubbing his arm through the creamy cotton material of his crewneck. You hadn't seen it before. This one was new. So were the jeans he'd paired with it.

"Why're you dressed so nice, Harrington?"

He laughed more to himself than to you. "Well, the food can't be the only thing that looks good, you know? Wanted to look nice too. It's our first dinner together, after all," he mumbled the last bit.

Steve felt the skin around your eyes tighten against his shoulder as your eyebrows scrunched together. "We've had dinner together before, though."

"This one's different," he replied, almost instantly. You'd hoped Steve's eyes were still closed so that he wouldn't see the bashfulness you were weathering, plucking the corners of your lips into a soft smile.

A silence fell between the two of you. Not unusual. Not awkward. Never unusual or awkward. There was a mutual cherishment of moments like these. Shamelessly invading each other's personal space on the couch as if it was made to only fit one person, music playing lowly the distance, but preferring to listen to the sound of the other's breathing.

"How can I make you feel better, sunshine?" Steve questioned, voice still hushed. The volume of your voice wasn't much louder as you responded, thoughtlessly, "You don't have to ask me that. You make me feel better without even trying."

"Oh yeah?" He craned his neck so that his head was impossibly closer to yours, awaiting your confirmation. Steve knew that you enjoyed his company, as he did yours, but he was only joking earlier when he gushed about having such an effect on you. It was now his turn to hide his blush, when you hum, nodding your head fervently.

These were the warm moments that confused you so much more than any subject in school ever did. And unbeknownst to you, it messed with Steve's head too. He'd never been this close with anyone before. Especially not with any of his "girlfriends" in the past. Sure, they'd cuddle and talk about their feelings. But it never felt the way it does with you. Steve was in love with you. It was hopeless.

And he had to make it known. Soon. If not, he swore he'd explode.

"Ready to eat?"

"Mhm," you buzzed, untangling yourself from the envelop of Steve. As he pressed his knuckles into the sofa, willing himself up, you reached for the bottle of wine and a glass, but your hand only made it so far until it felt the sting of a petty swipe from the boy next to you. "Ah ah, missy, dinner first. Lord knows how many hours its been since you last ate."

You snorted, "Relax, it hasn't been that long."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time?" He looked at you with raised eyebrows and an expression that said he already knew your answer was going to be ridiculous. And if there was anything you learned tonight, it was that Steve was highly skilled at knowing when you were lying, so instead, you left him with a goofy smile and giggle that told him he was absolutely right in his assumption.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," the spot where he sat went cold as he left to the kitchen, fixing two plates for the both of you. You moved the drinks and glasses over to the dining table, using a nearby lighter to ignite the accompanying lavender and vanilla scented candles. Tina Turner's vinyl was replaced with Tears for Fears' album Songs from The Big Chair instead, as Steve used his elbow to dim the kitchen lights, hands full with heavy plates of pasta.

"Oh my gosh, this looks so good! Good job, Stevie," you cheered, as he set your plate down in front of you, pouring you a much needed glass of wine. Your hands shook with hunger or excitement, or both, as you picked up your fork, ready to dig in. "Yeah, don't get too psyched yet. Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks."

"I'm sure it does."

His knee rests against yours as he sits adjacent to you, gathering food on his fork, though his eyes are peering at you, awaiting your verdict. The mouthwatering smell of garlic, butter, cheese and other heaven-sent elements overwhelm your nose and you feel like you can't eat it soon enough. You pause for a beat and so does his heart, hand over your messy mouth as you chew. Steve's hand twitches as he contemplates wiping the sauce from the corners of your lips and licking his finger clean.

"Steve," you begin, eyes flickering shut. "I'm gonna need you to cook for me every night. This is so fucking good." The tension in his face eases at your palpable delight, mission well accomplished. He was proud of himself. Very proud. Almost as much as you were of him.

You throw your head back, the purest form of satisfaction consuming you. "I'm glad you like it, I've been trying to nail it for weeks," Steve laughs, finally taking a bite for himself.

"Well, you've succeeded," you beam, washing it down with a sip of wine. Everybody Wants to Rule the World begins playing and you smile at Steve, knowing it was his favorite song at the moment. You nod your head along as Steve hums. A truly peaceful pocket in time.

Through the large windows opening the living room to the rest of Hawkins, you had the perfect view of the bright lights and mountainous buildings from the neighboring city. It was like the sky had flipped on its axis and the stars weren't in the sky anymore, they were among the trees and high rise properties.

"Steve, look how pretty," you point towards the window as his gaze shifts from you to raindrop-riddled glass. "I love being able to see the city so close. Sucks that we can't see the stars, though. I've always wanted to go stargazing."

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that a while ago. We gotta go one of these days," he replied, shoving a forkful of alfredo into his mouth.

"Oh, did you wanna go too?"

He shrugs his shoulders, chewing before speaking, "Eh, I'm not really a big stars guy. Besides, if I wanna see a pretty little light, all I gotta do is look at you," he says inattentively, going right back to eating as if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you.

"Shut up, Harrington," you roll your eyes, letting out a half-hearted laugh as you take your last bite. How could he flirt with you so easily? So carelessly? Couldn't he see that you loved him and that whenever he says things like that it does something to you? Clueless boy.

"I'm serious. Why do you think I always call you sunshine?" He replies, not a hint of irony in his face.

"Steve," you warn, sitting back in your chair. You didn't know where this conversation was going, and you'd be damned if you got your hopes up for what you always got whenever you did: absolutely nothing.

"It's why I love when you wear yellow. Reminds me of the first time I ever saw you," he pressed. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Clueless girl.

"Steve," your voice wavered. "What? Why do you keep saying my name like that?" He laughed, dryly.

He grew worried that he was saying too much. Saying things that a person shouldn't say to their best friend. He took a sip of his wine. Then another. Then another. He was considering just downing the whole glass. Maybe he was saying too much.

Screw that, he was in love with you.

"What're you saying to me right now?" You charged, voice a little harsher than what you'd intended, but you demanded an answer. A straightforward one. "I'm saying that I'm done hiding it."

"Hiding what?"

"That I love you."

The revelation yanks your parted lips shut, unsure of what to say next. You had dreamed for what felt like a lifetime for Steve to say those words to you and at last, it was no longer a dream, but instead reality. The rapid pace of your heartbeat could be felt in your chest and ears, and the butterflies in your stomach were more wild and untamed than ever before.

Steve's eyes didn't leave yours, though the stillness from you was killing him. The silence between you two that was once never awkward or unusual, was now painful and nearly unbearable.

Your dilated pupils scanned over his face, relentlessly. The jokey, teasing grin that he often sported when he was messing with you was unaccounted for. Holy shit. The gate to your thoughts opened once more. "You're serious," you whispered.

"How could I not be?" Steve watched you with adoring eyes, the warm light of the candle giving the melted chocolatey pond the sweetest infusion of honey.

"Kiss me."

Forks and butter knives fall to the ground with several, loud unpleasant clanks as Steve leans over the square dining table, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. His lips are garlicky and a little chapped, as yours probably are as well, yet the kiss is nothing short of perfect.

His mouth does a passionate dance against yours as you follow his lead, embracing the plush little pillows with your own. It was both everything you've imagined it'd be and nothing like you'd thought at the same time. You already knew Steve was an amazing kisser. Anyone who went to Hawkins High knew it. But experiencing it for yourself was completely different and new. It was euphoric.

The two of you have to reluctantly pull yourselves off of each other to catch your breaths. This moment was a long time coming.

Steve's hands are still holding onto to either side of your face, unwilling to let you go just yet. Truly savoring every second of the present. His breath fans across your cupid's bow, as he smiles against your lips. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

Giggling, you wrap your palms and fingers around his wrists, rubbing your nose on his. "Sorry," you shrug, feeling his thumbs caress your warm cheeks.

"Don't be," he shakes his head, engulfing your soft lips into another kiss.

message from jojo: pls comment and reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot <3

[pshaven]

LITTLE BIT OF AFFECTION 박성훈 ᥫ᭡

pairing sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis as your manager, sunghoon has to ensure all your needs are met and that you’re performing at your absolute best. but when your ex turns out to be the director of your newest project, you’re not doing your best. it’s his job to guarantee that this never happens again. (ib the manhwa, muse on fame!)

cw smut (mdni), coworkers(??) to lovers, vulnerability, beomgyu hits on reader, heeseung as reader’s ex, jealous!sunghoon, service top!sunghoon, BIG DICK SUNGHOON, sunghoon tells reader to boss him around (spoiler, she doesn’t), no protection (pls don’t do this), creampie, dirty talk, reassurance, cunnilingus, pnv, sunghoon pussy drunk, feelings are not being discussed, (small) aftercare, lmk if there’s anything i missed!!

wc 5.7k+

Sunghoon has one job– making sure that you are doing your job.

At your beck and call, he’s always there for you since you started to blow up in the acting industry. He was assigned to you by your agency, and you don’t have any complaints about him. You’ve heard stories of actors and actresses wanting to constantly change their managers and assistants, but Sunghoon has yet to give you a reason to doubt his skills.

He ensures that you’re on time for everything, which is step one of getting in the good books of movie producers and directors. You’ve only grown more with him by your side, and you feel like if he isn’t there for you, you would’ve gone into bollywood.

And you definitely would not be here, right now, on the red carpet with him standing securely behind you as paparazzi take photos of you. Your eyes squint slightly at the bright flashes, never really getting used to the swarm of camera clicks being shoved in your face even after years of experience.

Sunghoon notices your discomfort, and he speeds up his walk to catch up to your side as he brings his arm in front of your face to shield you from the paparazzi. “That’s enough. Thank you guys for your time,” He says, ever so stoic and cold as he bows stiffly before linking your arm with his, leading you inside the awards venue.

Staying with Sunghoon for so long has its perks. He easily picks up your facial or body expressions, knowing when you’re uncomfortable or satisfied with something. You don’t have to voice a single thing with him, if you really didn’t want to. He already knows everything. He knows what you need, what you want.

You like to think that people are jealous of you. Not because of your skills, your talent, or popularity in the acting industry, but of your Sunghoon. You think you got extremely lucky with him. He’s just your manager, but he’s much more than that.

He likes to cook for you, especially after that one night where you randomly said you enjoyed home cooked meals rather than eating out. He drives you everywhere and would drop whatever he’s doing in a millisecond just to take you to the mall. That being said, he’s also your stylist almost. He has shockingly good taste, knows what material or color you like or dislike. You always go with his picks rather than your actual stylist.

So of course, tonight, you’re wearing what he picked out for you. Which undoubtedly, leads to many other actors and actresses staring and it only makes you more confident about yourself, and the man by your side.

You’re aware of the ongoing rumors, albeit not aired to the public, so it’s only being spread to other actors in the industry. The rumors of you and your manager dating. How absurd, how unprofessional! Sunghoon is here for you and your work, only. It’s his job to make sure his actress is doing well and getting everything she wants, no?

This is why you think people are jealous of your Sunghoon. You like to pretend like you’re parading your beloved manager around other actors and actresses since he’s just so amazing– the manager that everyone can only wish for, and you have him in the palm of your hand.

“Ahem… excuse me?”

You turn your head around, looking past Sunghoon’s broad figure. Beomgyu stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously as he plays with the rings that adorn his fingers. You silently gasp– Beomgyu is incredibly well known, way more than you are (in your humble opinion).

“Yes? Hello,” You smile politely as Sunghoon steps to the side a bit, looking anywhere but at you and Beomgyu conversing. Not that it makes any difference, he’s going to be listening closely anyway. He doesn’t need to look at your body language to know when you want to get away.

“Sorry to bother. Just wanted to introduce myself, I loved you in ‘I Found You’. I’m Beomgyu,” he introduces himself, extending his hand out to you.

Your smile widens at the compliment as you shake hands with him, “Thanks so much! It was my first romance movie, so it was a bit difficult but I’m glad you enjoyed watching it. I love all your works as well… you didn’t even need to introduce yourself to me.” You laugh a little.

Beomgyu chuckles as well. “Ah, well just in case. Don’t wanna seem like an asshole if I don’t. Plus my movies aren’t really to everyone's taste, I stick to a very specific genre…” he trails off as he begins to ponder in thought, “...but I would be willing to try out a romance movie with you.”

You’re caught off guard, your eyes widening subtly and you’re unsure on how to reply. No doubt he’s attractive, but you’re still in your early years and still rising in the charts. Going on dates is forbidden in your contract for now.

But you have your trusty manager, Sunghoon, who clears his throat before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Let’s go?” He whispers so closely, you can feel his lips barely touching the shell of your ear. A shiver runs down your spine before you nod softly, taking his arm that he offers to you.

“It was nice to meet you. We have to be going to our seats now,” Sunghoon speaks for you so that you don’t have to directly answer Beomgyu's innuendo. He leads you down the aisle of seats, leaving Beomgyu alone at the top.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Sunghoon greets you as you come out of your bedroom, hair still a mess and eyes barely adjusting to the bright sun. “You have a new project.” He points to the folder on your kitchen island, and you groggily make your way to pick it up.

You flip through it, barely paying attention to much other than the title since all the script words looked jumbled up. You place it back down on the countertop as you sit down across from where Sunghoon stands.

“Interested?” He asks you, placing a plate in front of you that has a (too) healthy looking avocado toast and two strips of bacon. You frown at the plate, but you don’t complain as you take the fork to take a bite of the bacon. Sunghoon chuckles at this before turning around and placing another plate next to your sad avocado toast. You happily grin at the new plate of waffles and strawberries, thanking him profusely.

You take a bite of the waffle before answering him. “Sure, I guess,” You shrug your shoulders, too busy with your delicious breakfast to even take note of the plot, directors, producers, the, you know, important stuff.

“Alright, then eat up. I will be back later, I need to take care of some things. Call me if you need anything, alright?” He grabs his coat and keys, but slows down when he sees you look up at him from your meal.

“Where are you going?”

“To the office. I got called in earlier, but wanted to stop by to make you breakfast before I went,” He informs you with a shrug before giving you a (tiny) reassuring smile, wishing you a goodbye. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

A few weeks have passed, which means that it’s time for you to start production of your new project. You’ve read the script and everything, and it was… very interesting. You’re not the main lead or anything, but you play the second leading role. You’ve never been a fan of love triangles or anything of that sort, but after a good read-through and analysis, the writer seems to make this one more interesting.

So you’re intrigued, flipping through the script once more as Sunghoon drives you to the filming location. He looks over at you for a second, “Already memorized some lines, huh?” He’s half joking– you’ve got some weird knack for memorizing lines and improvising, and it’s one of the reasons why you’re such a sought out actress nowadays. Improvisation makes it more natural and interesting, and you get consumed into your roles very easily which makes it easy for you to improvise on the spot.

You huff out a laugh, closing the folder and setting it aside. “Only like, five.”

Sunghoon pulls up to the filming location– a pretty, wide and open lake. You walk up to the set, Sunghoon following closely behind but you suddenly stop in your tracks. He nearly collides into you if it weren’t for his eyes catching your sudden halt.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, concerns beginning to raise as he follows where your eyes are trained on. He has a bit of trouble trying to follow what you’re looking at, but your eyes begin to squint and your nose also scrunch up slightly. Your signs of discomfort.

He places a comforting hand on the small of your back, and most of the time it does the trick.

But this time, it didn't.

“Y/n? Look at me,” Sunghoon says, voice still even and stern but he’s worried as overthinking thoughts begin to flood into his brain.

Your brows furrow and the corner of your lips curve into a slight frown. You’re still not paying attention to Sunghoon, and he’s not having any of it. He needs to know why you’re like this, and he won’t just wait for you.

He grabs your chin, turning your head away from whatever you were looking at. “You okay?” He asks softly now, after seeing your eyes glossy, like you’re about to cry. Never in his years of being your manager has he seen you like this. You look vulnerable, with your wide and wet eyes looking up at him with your brows knitted together.

He wants to eat you up.

“Director…” You mumble out as your jaw clenches. Now he understands– you’re not sad. You’re angry. And for some reason, you’re angry at the director.

He turns his attention to the director that’s grabbing a cup of coffee from (presumably) his secretary’s hand. For the first time, Sunghoon doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know why you’re so upset and angry at the director. As your manager, he always does background checks on whoever you’re working with. He always makes sure you’re working with well-respected actors, producers, and directors. Did he miss something? Impossible.

One look at you makes him want to take you back home.

But as your manager, it’s his job to ensure that you do yours. And in this case, it is to act.

His eyes harden as he squeezes your shoulder softly. “What’s wrong with the director?”

He’s your manager. You need to tell him the truth if you want him to help you.

“My ex.”

It’s like Sunghoon just got slapped across the face. Of course! He feels like a fucking idiot. It’s his job to know your relationships, even before you got into acting. He needs to know for situations like this, but it’s too late now. You’ve already signed a contract to act in this movie, and there’s no backing out.

He breathes out a hefty sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Sunghoon apologizes, but you shake your head before looking back up at him. And like that, your eyes are dry and your face is stoic. This is what he likes about you. You’re professional– you won’t let ex’s affect your acting, even if it’s just for a moment of weakness.

“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” You mumble. You take a deep breath before walking closer to the set, catching the attention of staff, and the director.

“Y/n?” Heeseung gets up from his director’s seat, going up to you with a perfect, pearly white smile. You feel sick inside as he engulfs you in a warm hug that you sometimes miss whenever you’re alone in your bed at night.

“Hi… Heeseung,” You greet, keeping the hug short and sweet as you pull away and step back, your backside meeting Sunghoon’s chest in solidarity.

“It’s really nice to see you again, after all these years,” He begins the small talk, and you bite your bottom lip to refrain from any peak of weakness showing through. “I’m glad our wish is coming true, now. You remember? You, starring in one of my movies, that I’ll direct.”

You feel Sunghoon stiffening up at Heeseung��s words.

That silly promise. That stupid, insignificant promise that you and Heeseung made when the two of you were still dating. When the two of you were still trying to find the path to become a part of the movie industry. What a waste of time.

Five years ago, you wouldn’t believe that you and Heeseung broke up. There was one point in time where it was just you and him, no one else. You had no one to depend on, he had no one to depend on. The two of you just found one another, and it was comfortable.

Unfortunately, you didn’t see a future with him. Therefore, a lot of crying and begging of please, take me back! Give me another chance! were being said that night.

Sunghoon clears his throat to capture the attention of the both of you. “I think Y/n needs to go get her hair and makeup done, now,” He speaks in his usual monotone voice, except this time there’s no ‘pleased to meet you’, or ‘nice talking to you’ this time.

He leads you away from Heeseung, into your trailer where the stylists begin to work on you.

“Does he make you uncomfortable?” Sunghoon asks as the hair stylist begins to work on your hair, your makeup already done. He knows he doesn’t really have to ask this question, but he wants your verbal answer this time.

“No.”

A white lie, both you and Sunghoon know it, but neither of you acknowledge your fib.

He nods, getting up from his seat on the spare chair beside you. “Do you want me to grab you anything? Coffee, snacks…? I think there’s a bakery nearby or something. I can see if they have your favorite, strawberry croissant?”

What your answer would usually be a yes please!, you shake your head as you purse your lips into a thin line.

“No. Please stay.”

And so he does. He stays with you throughout the entire shoot, not keeping his eye off you. Even during breaks and scene cuts, he’s by your side in a second before Heeseung can even get a word in with you. The day ends slower than you would wish for, but the producer yells that’s a wrap!, and you’re booking it into your designated trailer.

You pack up quickly with the help of Sunghoon before the two of you make your way into his car. But of course, you’re not exactly the luckiest person in the world today it seems like.

“Y/n! Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Heeseung calls for you, lightly jogging up to catch up to you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon gives you a look that asks if you want him to make a lame excuse that you have to go and can’t spare any time for Heeseung, but you give your manager a slight smile and a reassuring nod.

You can’t avoid Heeseung forever, especially since you know this project will take at least three months to finish. You should at least get the closure you didn’t get five years ago.

“Hi, Y/n. You’re hard to catch up with,” Heeseung chuckles lightly, rubbing the nape of his neck, a nervous habit of his that you know all too well.

You smile at him, returning a small laugh. “Ah, sorry. Just wanted to go home and take a nice shower, but what’s up?”

“I just wanted to say, um…” Heeseung struggles with his words, biting the inside of his cheek, “I hope we can work well together. Once again, I’m really happy that you're on this project with me. I requested you personally…”

Your smile drops, but you’re quick to pick it back up, but it’s a weak smile. “Thank you, Heeseung. It’s really nice to see you again, after all these years.” You’re quick to dismiss his heartful words.

“Y/n, I’ve, uhm– I really miss you.”

“Y/n. It’s getting late. Are you ready to go?” Once again, Sunghoon is your savior.

You turn your head to Sunghoon by your side, and you nod. “See you on Tuesday, Heeseung,” You bid him farewell, plainfully ignoring his words as you climb into the passenger seat of the car.

Sunghoon shuts the door behind you, turning his attention to Heeseung. He walks up to the latter, and Heeseung subconsciously takes a small step back.

“You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re both here on a project. A job. Keep it professional, for Y/n’s sake, yeah?” Sunghoon icily says, not waiting for Heeseung’s response before he leaves to get into the driver's seat of the car.

He pulls out of the parking lot quickly, and you turn your head to your manager. “What did you say to him? And don’t lie that you didn’t say anything. I saw your mouth moving!”

Sunghoon merely shrugs his shoulders, keeping an arm on the steering wheel and his other on the console. “I told him to keep things professional. I heard what he said.”

You frown, looking away from him and out the window.

“Your acting was not really up to its standard today, Y/n,” Sunghoon tells you informingly, and your frown deepens. You know. You were aware, but to hear him say it makes it hurt your ego even more.

“He’s affecting your acting, isn’t he?” He speaks again, taking your silence as an agreement to his previous statement.

You scoff quietly, but it doesn’t miss Sunghoon’s sharp ears. “You’re asking me, but you’re saying it like it’s a fact,” you mumble, shifting closer to the car door.

Sunghoon frowns at this, a sigh leaving his lips. He doesn’t say anything in return, and the rest of the car ride back to your home is silent.

He pulls up into your driveway, quickly getting out and opening the door to your side. You thank him quietly, hopping out and making your way to your front door. Sunghoon silently follows you inside, locking the door behind him like it’s routine (it is).

“Y/n.”

You stop in your tracks, your shoulders sagging in defeat but you still have a bit of pride within you, not wanting to turn around to meet eyes with your manager.

“It is my job to ensure that you do your job well. And I failed today.”

He says it so matter of factly, it almost makes you want to snort that he takes this manager position so seriously. Perhaps he doesn’t know how much he’s really done to help you in your acting career.

You spin on your heel, turning to look at him. He takes a few steps towards you, and you stay put in the middle of your hallway.

Sunghoon continues. “I failed, and I’m sorry. I will make sure that this doesn’t happen again.”

You raise an eyebrow curiously, tilting your head to the side, “Oh? And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“Taking your mind off that ex of yours.”

He brings you into a kiss, a soft and quick one to see your reaction.

Maybe it’s the loneliness of the past years since you signed into your contract with the agency, or the vulnerability after seeing Heeseung for the first time in five years, but you feel desperate to feel Sunghoon’s lips on yours again.

So you do so, bringing his face down and perhaps it’s the delusions in your head, but Sunghoon feels just as much, if not more, desperate than you as he deepens the kiss more, bringing his hands up to your waist and pulling you in closer.

This is probably the most emotion you’ve seen from him in the three years you’ve worked with him. He’s grabbing at the fabric of your flimsy shirt, trying to pull you impossibly closer to him. He slips his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan softly as you entangle your fingers with his hair.

He groans back as he pushes you down the hall, into your bedroom. He’s been in your place plenty of times to know your layout like the back of his hand. He breaks the kiss for the two of you to catch your breath, but he barely gives you a chance to do so as he attacks your neck with his lips.

He’s nibbling at your skin, careful to not leave marks since it would only cause rumors to spread around and make it difficult for your makeup artists to cover up. But it’s easier said than done, as his teeth grazes against your collarbone while he slips the sleeves of your shirt down.

You bite your lip in anticipation, waiting and wanting him to just bite and mark you as his, but it never comes. He goes back to your lips, gently laying you down on your bed and helping you take off your shirt.

“Fuck–” Sunghoon hisses, admiring your bare chest since you had decided to discard a bra for today. “So pretty…” He mumbles, sounding dazed out. He attaches his lips to your pert nipples, his tongue circling around the bud that makes you squirm.

“S-sung..” You whimper out, your hand still entangled in the locks of his hair. He merely acknowledges you, a hum coming out from his chest as he moves on to your other nipple. You’re extremely squirmish, mostly because it’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid, but also Sunghoon’s tongue seems to read your body like a kid’s alphabet book.

“Shit,” He groans, now tugging at your pants desperately, his fingers fumbling clumsily with your button and zipper. “Need you naked for me, all for me.”

You bite your inner cheek to suppress your moan at his words, helping him out with taking your pants off. He impatiently throws your panties onto the floor beside the bed, marking his place between your thighs by kissing down your tummy.

If his intentions were to drive you crazy, it’s working.

“Heeseung ever eaten you out?” He asks suddenly, his low-lidded eyes looking up at you like some predator and you’re his prey for tonight. You bite your lip, slowly nodding.

Sunghoon gives you a curt nod in return. “I guarantee you, I’m much better.”

Maybe it’s the jealousy talking and he’s just letting his mouth run without thinking, but he doesn’t have time to overthink when he dives into your cunt and gets a taste of you. He immediately releases a moan, his hot breath on your pussy making you buck your hips up for more.

He has a job to do, and that is to make sure you don’t ever think of Heeseung again. Heeseung should be the least of your worries when you have to focus on your acting! So he makes it a personal mission, switching between swirling his tongue on your clit and prodding at your entrance.

The teasing drives you wild, wanting him to either pay attention to just your clit or your clenching hole. And like he’s reading your mind, he inserts a finger.

“Ah~! H-hoon, wan’ more!” You moan out, your hips beginning to gyrate for more friction from his singular finger. He grants you your wish, slipping another finger into your entrance and you breath out a relieved sigh.

Your taste could have him between your thighs forever, with you practically humping his face with need. Next time, he’s sure to have you sitting on his face, and he’ll drown happily in your juices.

“Fuckkk…” He moans out, his own hips starting to dry hump your sheets to let his neglected cock get some attention. To see his desperation makes you needier, your arousal spilling from your already sloppy cunt.

He notices you clenching around his fingers, and he takes the time to pull away from making out with your pussy. “You turned on? Seeing me like this? Reduced to putty by your hands?” He’s taunting you, you know but it only makes you moan louder.

You nod repeatedly, his fingers speeding up at your answer. “You taste so good, want you to cum on my tongue… can you do that for me? Hm?” He practically whines, going back to devouring your pussy without waiting for an answer.

He was going to make you cum on his mouth, either way. He feels like a starved man, slurping up your juices and arousal that leak out. Your thighs are a mess, a mix of your slick and his own saliva. He pulls his fingers out and his tongue pokes out, a glob of spit landing right on your clit.

You jolt a bit, and Sunghoon is quick to plant his hands on your waist and thigh to keep you from squirming away. “No, no, don’t move away now, baby. Let me taste what you have to give me.”

His thumb rubs at your swollen clit, but your empty hole clenches around nothing with need. Your hips work itself on his fingers, chasing for more and he watches you with awe. “Looks like you’re the one reduced to putty instead of me, now. You’re ‘bout to cum?” He hums, watching your wet cunt shine from your wetness.

You hiccup as his thumb speeds up and his tongue inserts itself into your entrance. You cry out a moan, hands frantically pulling at his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. He’s moaning into you from your taste, his own hands having your thighs in a death grip to keep you from squirming away.

“S-sungho–” You begin to stutter, the pleasure beginning to overwhelm your body and take over your thoughts. He already knows, as if he’s known your body for centuries. He nods repeatedly as a signal to allow you to cum while tongue fucking you, the motion only sending you into overdrive.

“Fuck! Oh my goddd~ cu-cumming!” You squeal, and he only presses his face further into your pussy as if his life mission was to soak his face in your essence (it just might be). He retracts when he feels you gently pushing him away, the overstimulation too much for you to handle.

“Shit,” He curses, his tongue peeking out to lick at the corners of his lips, “Could eat you all day and night. Need you sitting on my face next time,” He mumbles, staring at your twitching cunt. You breathe heavily, recollecting your thoughts as you begin to slowly sit up, leaning on your elbows.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at you, giving you a weird expression. “What? Is something wrong?” You ask, suddenly insecure as you instinctively shrink down a bit onto the bed.

“You think we’re done?”

Your eyes widen a bit, chest still heaving up and down as you catch your breath. “O-oh, I can, uhm… use my mouth on you?”

His thick brows furrow together. “No.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, looking away for a second out of embarrassment. You thought he liked it, did he not? Before you can even begin to overthink, you hear his belt clanking onto the ground, the zipper unzipping reaching your ears. You snap your head back at his lower half, seeing his hard cock out.

He’s softly stroking himself, his hand holding at the base that only makes his tip look even more angry and red. You gape at the sight, unconsciously scooting up against the headboard.

“Why do you keep running from me today?” Sunghoon tsks, frowning a bit as he grabs your lower calves, pulling you down towards him. You yelp quietly, his strength easily spreading your legs apart.

“Is this okay?” He asks, his tip teasing at your clit and spreading your wetness all over. You nod frantically, your hands grabbing at the sheets in anticipation. He’s definitely bigger than Heeseung, and he was already big in your eyes.

Sunghoon groans as he inserts himself inside your warm entrance, his eyes shutting as his lips part. “God, you feel so fucking—“ He hisses as he continues to go deeper, his eyes opening to watch your expression fall apart just from his cock splitting you into half.

“F-fuck, so deep…” You moan out like you’re complaining, but your legs wrap around his lower waist despite your words. You throw your head back into the pillow, feeling overwhelmed from him filling you up as your eyes screw shut.

He buries himself in you, balls deep as he hides his face into your neck. He chuckles breathlessly, the sensation against your neck making you all the more sensitive and ticklish. “S’cute. You want me that bad?” He’s referring to your legs wrapped needily around his waist, trapping him deep in you.

You nod desperately, his body weight on top of you making it impossible to move your hips against him. He smiles down at you, but his smile isn’t one of tenderness— it’s mischievous, how the corner of his lips curve slightly more upwards.

”You’re the boss of me. Tell me what to do,” He whispers into the nape of your neck, lips pressing wet kisses down your shoulder. You whine, now shaking your head as your mouth parts to speak, but nothing comes out.

Sunghoon’s smirk is now more obvious, enjoying the sight of you going dumb just by cockwarming him. “What? What’s wrong? You’re a smart girl, no? You know what you want. So say it.”

You lick your dry lips, taking a moment to think what he wants to hear. “Want.. want you to make me forget. Make me yours…” You trail off, beginning to get shy but Sunghoon proves you otherwise when a low growl rumbles in his chest.

He grabs your legs from behind him, pushing your thighs down to your chest. You gasp in surprise, his strength making you dizzy as he forces your legs down while his hips begin to thrust into you.

“Finally,” He groans out, hips easily picking up pace, “took you long enough. I was really debating on flipping you over and just make you take it… but this is much better,” he rambles, eyes focusing on where you’re taking him, his cock shining with your juices each time he pulls out.

“Sh-shut up… fast-er!” You cry out, voice breaking when his thrusts become harder, the force of his hips hitting your ass making you moan louder.

“Telling me to shut up now? You’re beginning to act real bossy…” He mutters underneath his breath but does as you ask, lifting his body weight off of you to thrust faster.

Your eyes begin to roll back, your grip on the sheets releasing and immediately flying to his back, your pretty manicured nails digging crescents into his shoulders. He’s panting above you, hair sticking to his forehead as he watches you only get louder.

He lets a whimper escape his lips from your nails scratching at his back, leaning down close to you again. He nudges at your lips, but you’re too lost to comprehend that he wants a kiss as your mouth is left open from moaning and gasping.

Both of your bodies rock back and forth on your bed, the sheets barely hanging from the edge as he presses his lips to yours, muffling your desperate whines. You can’t keep up with his desperate kisses, letting him take control of your entire body and mind.

“You’re close,” He points out, noticing the way your pussy pulsates around his thick cock, each drag of him inside of you pushing you closer to the edge. You nod, your nails scratching up into the nape of his neck as you pull him down for another kiss.

It’s nasty and messy, and it only makes you whine desperately into his mouth as you cum on his cock. You throw your head back, but Sunghoon chases your lips like he’s chasing his own orgasm, his pounding only making you overly sensitive.

You feel him pull out all the way, planning to cum elsewhere but your whines of protest stops him. “Wh—no, no! Inside, please..” you bite the inside of your cheek, and he can never say no when you look absolutely delirious for his cock and cum inside you, chest heaving up and down with fucked out eyes.

He curses underneath his breath, quickly inserting himself back inside you. “Shit.. you’re so hot,” he mumbles, brows knitting together as he picks up his speed again to reach his orgasm. He buries his face back into your neck, his moans so close to your ear that it makes your cunt squeeze around him, arousal still pooling in your lower half.

You scratch at his scalp, his moans becoming louder as he approaches his climax, your cunt gushing around him and the wet squelches letting his hot cum coat your insides. You feel so disgustingly satisfied, moaning along with him as he pants into your shoulder.

The two of you stay like that in silence, catching your breaths, but Sunghoon is quick to recover as he lifts himself off of you. Your eyes are droopy, mind clouding with sleep, sleep, sleep. He smiles softly at you, watching you eventually fall into slumber.

He gets dressed, making his way into your bathroom and grabbing a towel to lay down between your legs so that his cum doesn’t make a mess of your sheets (like he doesn’t need to wash it later for you anyway). He cleans you up slowly, carefully maneuvering your limbs to not wake you up.

He puts your blanket over your naked body and he brushes the hair out of your face, his touch lingers for a second before leaving and getting into his car. He sighs when he gets into the driver's seat, closing his eyes as he mentally reprimands himself.

It’s his job to keep you in check. He’s getting paid to ensure that you act well and to not get distracted when working. But now, it seems like he’s the one getting distracted.

[euovennia]

headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)

anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3

pt. 2

fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:

let's get one thing straight

becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task

while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend

the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone

i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself

and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone

but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack

cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before

naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave

but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare

think 👁️👁️

he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him

it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"

to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)

but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."

he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"

he does not spit it out

from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him

the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him

these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking

he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it

and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own

and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is

so what does he do?

he tries to block you out

it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity

and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)

and the two of you become quite chummy

well

as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost

instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you

it's a surprise

a delightful one

but still a surprise

his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is

despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts

so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold

it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!

anyway

simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic

you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it

he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off

he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover

but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself

maybe having a friend isn't all that bad

and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue

until one day you don't show up

while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now

you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry

even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?

but you don't show up the next day

or the next

and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry

and a little sad and worried

but mostly angry

who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)

if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face

he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room

he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you

but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks

you got yourself sick

tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you

which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine

you nearly cry in your haze of sickness

you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much

ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship

it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days

but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday

which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks

but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"

and most times you say yes

but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)

but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free

gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man

when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary

like

imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling

i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway

it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it

like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in

and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand

cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."

then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot

it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you

especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission

you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment

seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?

and honestly?

you're not quite sure yourself

you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to

maybe one day you'll ask him yourself

maybe you won't

doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend

even if he doesn't refer to you as the same

he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same

regardless

you two are very much attached at the hip

what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person

he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem

soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him

gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door

price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out

it's sweet really, the friendship you have

it warms your heart thinking about it

and it warms his too

even if he won't admit it

he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to

because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend

and he's glad it's you

:)

[celaenaeiln]

I want to talk about Dick Grayson's beauty, sex symbol status, and how it all connects for a moment.

This is a prelude to an upcoming post but I needed to include this separately because the other was getting too big.

First of all Dick Grayson is a beautiful man.

And you're probably thinking "well, no duh. Everyone knows that." but what I mean is Dick Grayson was intentionally made to be beautiful.

For a little historical context, around the late 1950s the culture in the US was changing. It was around this time, that people began exploring and accepting what they called a "feminine man".

This was really taking place in cinema and stuff where they began to show softer versions of men doing "typically female roles" as heroes.

One example is the movie "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance", a 1962 Hollywood film. In summary, it takes place in the midwest and is centered about Cowboys, gunslingers, the shebang. But the point is, there are two male leads in the movie - Ranse Stoddard (played by Jimmy Stewart) and Tom Donophon (played by John Wayne). Ranse and Tom are both the heroes in the film but with a key difference. Tom is like the sheriff of the town, loved by all and focusing his time on practicing his gun skills. The savior of women and normal people, he's the typical masculine hero. His face is rough and handsome. Ranse however was the new wave. He doesn't care about carrying the gun, he thinks it's uncouth and focuses much of his attention on sending the evil guy (Liberty Valance) to jail through laws. He doesn't want to kill and he takes a more advocative approach. He is also loved by everyone despite not being super masculine. Ranse's face is clean and almost dainty in comparison to Tom and Liberty Valance's.

Despite the complete opposites they are, both men are considered heroes. On one hand, you have the very male typical hero but on the other hand, you have the feminine male hero. At one point the evil guy laughs when Ranse walks in wearing an apron because serving tables is a "woman's job", but Ranse doesn't let it bother him.

How does this connect to Dick Grayson?

Dick Grayson is the feminine hero of DC. DC jumped on the pretty boy hero train.

That's also why in the Teen Titans (1966) comics, Dick keeps being referred to by endearingly feminine pet names by the titans which they seem to only use on him.

Standard gender roles: Men were expected to be strong, aggressive, and bold while women were expected to be polite, accommodating, and nurturing. Sound familiar about a certain duo?

But Dick? He plays both male and female gender roles in a time period where it wasn't socially acceptable to do so.

So my point is, Dick was created to blur the lines between gender and the way his character has progressed - he's meant to be the definition of a man opposite to male toxicity.

He can cook and do laundry whereas Bruce, the image of male dominance cannot.

This also falls into another role of Bruce and Dick's but it applies here as well in hindsight.

One thing people need to understand is that Dick was created to be the antithesis of Bruce Wayne. For all the gloominess that Bruce is Dick was meant to be the joy. He is the light to Bruce's darkness.

Which is why Dick often acts as the loving mother to the batfamily while Bruce acts as the stern father. Because Dick was created for the female role.

Part of the reason why I love Dick and Kory is because they do this at a time where girlbossing and malewifing wasn't a thing. Kori is consistently the dominant one when it comes to love in their relationship while Dick plays a softer, more "wife like" role. The way Kori is taller than Dick and buffer than him ✨

He is quite literally a queen consort - that is the role that Kori begs him to take after she is forced to marry someone her father picks out for her. But Dick refuses in tears because his morality cannot bear becoming a mistress and ruining someone else's marriage.

I know this is a long tangent but here's where the sex symbol comes in. Dick was created to be the most beautiful figure in DC but him being beautiful is not supposed to be confused with him being objectified.

Being beautiful is just something he was born as. What people do as a result has nothing to with DC

Take this for instance

He's literally just showering and comes out of the shower to find a random little girl singing about his and batman's identities. Creepy? Yes. Very much so. So he chases after her and finds her gone. Well there's nothing he can do now, he needs to go back and analyze what's going on and contact the other titans-

Crap.

Look at all the women that are ogling him, and even the ginger looks as if he doesn't know if he's jealous or wants to join - but there's nothing Dick did to make them do that. He's literally minding his own business and got caught outside. Did he hit on the women? Did he seduce them? Did he purposefully show off and make a loud commotion because he wanted the attention? No!

Arguing that Dick Grayson shouldn't be a sex symbol just seems wrong to me considering that it's not a fault of his.

It's like telling Kori not to have large breasts and telling Dinah not to wear fishnets.

People still ogle them regardless of how they dress because they're just that attractive. You can't tell someone to look a different way because you don't like the attention they're receiving...that's literally the opposite of everything people should be fighting for

Arguing that Dick Grayson being a sex symbol is a problem because he's too beautiful and blaming the actions of other characters for thinking so is just...

it's wrong.

He was created to be beautiful to fight male toxic masculinity. He's woman coded for a reason.

We should be embracing him. He represents everything male freedom should be about. He constantly placed in a female role, in female positions-

In queer positions-

He's acrobatic, slender, and sensual. He's gentle, loving, and beautiful.

When has the beauty of a person ever been a reflection of their character? The way fandom is going, it's implying that because female characters make sexualized comments about Dick's body, it's somehow Dick's fault for looking that way. We're blaming him for his "womanizing" ways as if he hasn't put his heart and soul into every relationship he's had. And while we're busy calling him a womanizer, we conveniently forget that the women he's in relationships with have significant personalities of their own. We inadvertently reduce their beings to plastic bags, ignoring that they have broken up with each other because of being unable to resolve conflicting beliefs, different career paths, different lifestyles, and more. It's not a one way road with our treatment of Dick. It's a two way street because we're harming both Dick and strong women like Kori, Barbara, Bea, Shawn, and Helena by pretending what they believe in and live for is unimportant in love.

Instead we should be exploring how the objectification might have an impact on Dick's mental health rather than blaming DC for using characters to describe how hot Dick is.

All the beautiful traits of Dick Grayson - his ambiguous sexuality, his overwhelming love for people, his affection for his friends, the way he cries and feels for others - all of it is beautiful, is it not?

From his very creation Dick was meant to be someone who breaks gender roles. The constant attraction he receives from both men and women in all of DC's media is evidence of that. The Grayson comics push the boundaries of his sexuality as much as DC will allow. To be queer without coming out with it. He is the feminine hero.

Everyone seems to hate that he's being called a sex symbol but why does that bother you? Dick Grayson IS the pretty girl of the comic universe. He IS the babygirl of DC.

DC has created the perfect view of what it's like to be a woman through Dick Grayson and we're spitting on the most accurate representation of a female that comics have ever created by blaming them for expressing what it's like to live as a woman.

[tightjeansjavi]

honey pot 🍯

(Mood board is just for aesthetics! Reader has no physical descriptions such as body type or skin color)

A/N: so after watching a very ✨spicy✨ video, I came up with this deliciously filthy idea of neighbor!joel becoming your fuck buddy. The only problem? You have a boyfriend already 🤭 just a disclaimer, I do not condone cheating and this fic might not be for everyone, and that’s okay!

~word count: 2.7k~

Summary: you’ve been fucking your hot neighbor, Joel Miller, all summer without your boyfriend finding out until you end up faking an orgasm with him. You tell Joel that you can no longer see him, and he comes up with a solution that works for the both of you.

pairing | hot neighbor!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: smut, age gap (Joel is 36 reader is 25) infidelity/cheating (done to the readers bf) dom/sub, daddy kink, unprotected piv, praise kink, pet names: baby, angel, sweetness, petal, fluff, consent, some angst??pussy play, we can’t fuck, but we can do other things! Joel is a real good filthy talker, reader and Joel are down bad for one another, helping hand vibes, fwb/fuck buddy, smut with no plot, reader has no physical descriptions but keeps her genitalia groomed, +18 minors dni!

main masterlist masterlist

You had been fucking your ridiculous, sinfully hot neighbor for the entirety of the summer. It started off as some innocent nonchalant flirting that you thought was harmless. What your boyfriend didn’t know, wouldn’t harm him, right? Besides, you were feeling deeply neglected in your current relationship. The honeymoon phase had worn off, and you were feeling frustrated and lonely on most nights. Guess football and guys night held a higher importance than his relationship with you. Well, so be it then. You could play the good little girlfriend that your boyfriend wanted you to be..and still have your cake and eat it.

That’s why falling head over heels for your neighbor Joel Miller was as easy as sliced pie. It was early June when you found a bouquet of fresh wildflowers on your front porch step with a note attached to one of the stems. It read, ‘Out of all the flowers in the patch, you are by far the prettiest petal.’ -J.M

So, he was hot and poetic? What more could you really want?

It was the following Friday that Joel finally got the courage to show up on your front step. He barely was able to ask you if you’d like to come over for dinner that evening when you blurted out an enthusiastic ‘yes!’

Joel was hot, poetic, and he could fucking cook? Yeah, you were positively screwed in the best way possible. Not only could he cook, but he actually showed interest in you. Your hobbies, your likes and dislikes, and for the first time in months, you actually felt like you were being appreciated.

So, it came as no surprise that after you both indulged his cooking skills, that you proceeded to let him ravage you on the table. Yours and his clothes were practically shredded to the floor as he kissed and licked every inch of your skin like a man starved. He made you cum more times in that evening than you thought was even possible, and my god, his cock? Jesus christ, you’re getting wet all over again just thinking about how it felt like he was splitting you in two, filling you to the fucking brim as you cried out his name and begged for more. Faster, harder, oh please, daddy, don’t stop!

“Yeah? You want more of daddy’s cock? S’that what you want?” He nearly purred as his sweat stained curls lightly tickled your forehead. His eyes were glued to the spot where your bodies were connected. He sucked in a harsh breath as his vision glazed over at the sight of your pretty little pussy tugging his cock right back in with each of his heavy thrusts.

“See the way your pussy is huggin’ my cock so tight? Pullin’ me right back in? Look how fuckin’ pretty she is, baby. Think she is the prettiest pussy I've ever seen in my entire life. She’s all mine, right? C’mon, my petal, I needa hear ya say it.” His nostrils flared as he licked hungrily into your mouth. He was consuming every last bit of you, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

“Yours, daddy! All yours.” You whined as your walls clenched down like a tight fist around his cock.

All good things must come to an end unfortunately, and your little fantasy that had been fulfilled every evening that summer, was going to have to end. That stupid boyfriend of yours was beginning to catch on ever since he caught you faking an orgasm the last time you and him had sex. Oops?

It physically pained you to even think about cutting ties with Joel. He was unconditionally good to you. All he asked for was your company. He didn’t need to ask; it was already his.

The leaves were beginning to change with the seasons as fall was approaching on the horizon. It was nearing five in the evening when you heard the all too familiar sound of Joel’s truck tires grinding over the cement. His driver side door swung shut as his footsteps neared your front steps. He was home from work, and immediately he wanted to see you. Nothing else mattered to him except seeing your pretty face.

You were pacing nervously in the front hallway as you went over the exact words you were going to tell him. We can be friends, right? Right. After you’ve spent months in his sheets, and he in yours, you’re just going to be friends? Fat chance.

You were torn from your thoughts at the sound of his knuckles rapping lightly on your front door as you wringed your hands together, taking a few deep breaths before you grasped the door handle in your palm and pulled it open.

“Hey, baby. Lookin’ gorgeous as usual.” Your fuck buddy drawled with that low, deep, texas twang of his as he leaned his elbow right up against the doorjamb.

Oh, fuck. You could feel a gush between your thighs just from the way he was leaning against your damn door.

Stay strong. Don’t fold. Don’t fold. Don’t–

“S’matter, baby? Everything’ all good n’that pretty head of yours?” He cocked his head to the side as a frown slowly spread across his lips when he saw your eyes suddenly grow glassy as a stray tear wobbled down your cheek.

“Baby–” He started, but you cut him off.

“We can’t fuck anymore, Joel.” You painfully muttered as his hand reached out to warmly cup your face while his thumb lightly brushed away your tear.

“Baby, what’s goin’ on? Somethin’ happen?” He sounded genuinely concerned as more tears began to fall and land on his bronzed skin.

“It’s my boyfriend,” You sniffled solemnly. “He knows, Joel.” Your misty dewdrop eyes met his calm gaze as he let out a soft breath between his parted lips.

“Oh, baby..I'm so sorry. I thought we were bein–’”

“Careful? Yeah, I did too.”

“How does he know?..”

“I faked an orgasm with him the last time we had sex which I think it was a week ago? Well, he grew suspicious after that. I’m so sorry, Joel. I never meant for things to get this messy.” You truly did feel awful for dragging Joel into all of this, and you never had the intention to hurt him.

“Baby, s’alright. Y’know what ain't alright? That stupid boyfriend of yours still not knowing how to treat his fuckin’ girl right. You’d think by now the guy would have some idea of how he should be treating you.” Joel held in a scoff as his hand that wasn’t presently caressing your cheek, dropped down to your waist as he pulled you in close. “I..guess this is goodbye then?”

“I don’t want it to be.” You murmured softly as you leaned into his comforting touch along your needy skin.

“Baby, y’know..it doesn’t have to be a goodbye then.” The gears in his brain were already beginning to twist and turn as he thought of a viable solution to your little problem.

“What do you mean? Joel, i’m serious, we can’t fuck anymore.”

“Sweetness, I know we can’t, and I respect that. I’ll never put my dick inside of ya again, unless you ask. But, I do think I have a solution for our little problem.”

Your pupils nearly doubled in size as the tip of his thumb dragged down across your lower lip as he tugged the soft flesh gently. His eyes bore deeply into yours as your thighs subconsciously rubbed together to relieve the building tension that was growing in the pit of your stomach.

“What is your solution, Joel? I’m all ears.”

“Well, first, I was hopin’ I could get a kiss. Been thinkin’ about these pretty lips and how badly I wanna kiss ‘em the second I walked through that door.” He rasped warmly.

Your immediate reaction was to loop your arms around his neck and close the smidge of a gap between the two of you before firmly pressing your lips against his. You licked into one another’s mouth with the same amount of passion. You could taste a morsel of tobacco along his tongue; must have bummed a smoke off of Tommy, as his hand that was wrapped firmly around your waist, slowly drifted down as he grabbed a handful of your left ass-cheek. A surprise squeak slipped past your lips as your tongues tangled.

“So, we can’t fuck, but there’s somethin’ else we can do..” He trailed off as he slowly detached his lips from yours. A string of saliva was visible between your once linked lips.

“You are not fucking sticking your dick up my ass. Don’t even think about it.”

He stifled a chuckle before stealing one more quick kiss. “Baby, I wasn’t thinkin’ about stickin’ my dick up your ass. I promise. I had somethin’ else in mind. Can I show you what I'm talkin’ about?”

You were weary at first, because what could he possibly have in mind? Going down on you? Okay, sure. You certainly wouldn’t be opposed to it, but if that was the case, why didn’t he just say it?

“Okay, I want you to show me what you’re talking about.” You agreed.

“Good girl. I promise this will be worth your while baby.” He pressed a tender kiss to your temple before he reached for your hand. Your fingers interlaced as he proceeded to lead you up the stairs to your bedroom. Your panties were undeniably soaked at this point, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Go’n sit on the bed for me, darlin.’” He spoke firmly, yet softly as you padded over to your bed and slowly sunk down along the comforter.

“Now, sweetness, before you start worryin’ your pretty little mind about that silly boyfriend of yours, I promise that he won’t know about this.”

You dumbly nodded as you crossed one leg over the other, awaiting his next request.

“I trust you, daddy.” You softly cooed.

“Good girl. Now, I want you to take your pants off for me, baby.”

You wasted no time to pop the button off your jeans as you dragged the zipper down. You started shimmying the denim fabric down your thighs and legs, but before you could even grasp the band of your panties, he was stopping you.

“No, no, Angel. Jus’ your pants. Keep your panties on.”

Why was that so hot.

You slipped your thumbs out from under the thin elastic band of your panties before you kicked your jeans to the side. Your mouth began to water the moment you heard the familiar sound of his belt buckle clinking open.

“Good girl. Now, I jus’ want you to lay your pretty ass on the comforter. Spread your thighs a little, but not too much.”

You could feel the wet patch pooling through the thin fabric of your panties as you slowly leaned back on your elbows along the comforter and spread your thighs just enough that he could fit between them.

Your pussy pulsed inwards the second your eyes landed on his bare cock that was hanging out of the opening in his jeans. You nearly drooled as he swiped his thumb across his ruddy weeping tip that had a bead of pre-cum drooling from the small slit. He twisted his wrist a couple times before he slowly approached you.

His lips curved upwards in a sly grin when he saw the cock-dumb look on your pretty face. You took your lower lip harshly between your teeth when you felt the rough skin of his thumb brush across your covered aching clit as he gently rubbed the swollen nub in tight expert circles. His freehand was still wrapped around the base of hs cock as he watched your face twist into pleasure.

“Y’know, it makes me so fuckin’ mad that you ain’t bein’ treated right. The only weepin’ you and your pretty pussy should be doin’ is the good kind. Y’got literal honey drippin’ between your thighs, darlin.’ He oughta start worshipin’ you sooner, before someone else ends up doin’ it for him.” He tsked under his breath.

“Joel,” You whimpered wantonly.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m gonna respect your wishes n’not fuck you, but that doesn’t mean I still can’t make ya feel good. I’ll always take care of you, angel. No silly boyfriend of yours can stop me from treatin’ you right.” He murmured as he dragged his thumb down to the inside of your panties. He gently hooked his thumb around the damp fabric before he pulled it to the side. His mouth went dry at the sight of your glistening, puffy, needy little pussy. When it came to women, he didn’t mind their choices to never shave, or to just trim, or to completely go bare. He loved their pussies regardless of how they were groomed, or their natural appearance. They were all beautiful in his eyes, and deserved to be worshiped. But, he couldn’t deny how fucking pretty yours was, and how your slickness clung to the fabric of your panties like glue made his cock twitch in his palm.

He could bite his fist right then and there, but he had a job to complete.

“So pretty, baby. Prettiest little pussy. G’nna take extra good care of her now, okay?”

“Thank you, daddy.” you spoke above a whisper as he slowly slid the tip of his cock underneath your panties. You could feel the slick coolness of his pre-cum sliding across your folds as he rolled his hips forward. A deep grunt rumbled up his chest as he nudged your clit.

“You’re welcome, baby. Y’jus’ sit back and enjoy yourself, okay? Daddy is gonna do all the work for ya.” He promised you with a chaste kiss to your swollen lips as his hands came to rest along your thighs.

Now you fully understood what Joel meant by his solution to not fucking you. Christ, this was almost better than the feeling of his cock splitting you open. How lucky you were to have a man treat you like a princess.

“Oh, fuck.” You mewled as he thrust his hips faster, mimicking the same movements as if he was fucking you. “That feels so good, daddy.”

“Mhmm. I know it does, baby. I told you this would be worth your while.” He took his own lip between his teeth as he focused on the rhythm of his thrusts.

“This is almost better than fucking, almost.” You softly moaned as he increased his pace. Your hands found his as your orgasm slowly began to build.

“Nothin’ is better than fuckin’, Angel. Jus’ so lucky to make you feel good one last time. You’re doin’ so good for me, baby. I want you to cum, okay? I want to see you ruin those pretty little panties.” He urged you praisingly as the tip of his cock continuously bumped against your clit.

He was playing your pussy 100x better than your boyfriend ever could as you reveled in the pure pleasurable feeling one last time.

It didn’t take you long to reach your high as Joel’s hips stuttered forward as he spilled his hot seed right between your slick folds. He slowly slipped his cock out from underneath your ruined panties. He pressed soft kisses to your face, a playful nibble to the tip of your nose before his lips found yours in a searing kiss.

“Better take these for safe keepin’ so your boyfriend doesn’t know I was here.” He stated with a snicker as he gently slipped your soaked panties down your thighs. “I’ll getcha a fresh pair, okay, sweetness?”

Just as he was about to get up from your bed, your hand encased around his wrist, caging him in your grasp momentarily. “Wait, Joel?”

“What is it, baby?”

“Maybe..this won’t be the last time?..”

“Baby..”

“I want you, and if that means I have to break up with my stupid boyfriend? Then so be it. I’ll break up with him.”

“Angel, are you absolutely sure that’s what you want to do?”

“Yes. i’ll call him up as soon as you finish fucking me, and i’ll tell him that it’s over.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips as he situated himself between your thighs once more. “Well, I guess you won’t be needin’ a fresh pair of panties after all, huh baby?” He teased.

“Nope. Not while you’re around, Daddy.”

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