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#I wanted to work on four pieces for this month but only managed one
gutsby · 1 day
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Cowboy Killers
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Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader
Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.
Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.
Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.
Word count: 4.1k
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Forgive and forget.
Forgive and forget.
Forgive and—
“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.
Across the line, your friend laughed.
“Yeah? You see him?”
Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.
The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.
She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.
Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.
And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.
Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.
“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.
Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:
“Where ya headed, hon?”
You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’
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The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.
A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.
Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.
“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.
She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.
“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.
“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.
“Well, duh.”
“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”
“I love you, psycho.”
“Love you more.”
You ended the call.
And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.
You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight
You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.
The couple turned.
As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.
“You cheatin’ FUCK!”
He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.
The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.
“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.
You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:
“Working late, are we?!”
And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.
“Got a little caught up on the way home?”
Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.
“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.
Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand
Shaking his head.
“Hell no, I ain’t never—”
“LIAR!”
Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.
You felt your cheeks heat up.
“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.
“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.
You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.
They thought wrong.
“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.
You almost expected the man to turn and leave.
You thought wrong.
“You’re a cunt.”
And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.
The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.
He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.
“How’s it feel?” he sneered.
You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.
On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?
You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.
“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”
“Wh—”
“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”
“What—”
“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”
“What did you just call me?!”
“A BITCH!”
“No, the NAME!”
“TOMMY MILLER!”
“I’M JOEL!”
Oh.
Oh.
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You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.
Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.
“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.
Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.
“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”
Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.
Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.
Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.
“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”
He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:
‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’
He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.
When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.
“HEY!”
Oh, no. No. Not tonight.
You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.
“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.
It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.
Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:
“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”
You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.
“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”
Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.
“Oh yeah?”
Joel flipped you around to face him.
“Yeah,” he snapped.
Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.
What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.
Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.
“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”
“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.
You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.
“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”
“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.
You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.
And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.
“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”
Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.
He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.
“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”
Joel couldn’t say that he had.
Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.
This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.
“Alright, princess. Up.”
You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.
You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.
“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.
Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:
“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”
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Joel wished he’d said no.
Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.
“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.
“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.
And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.
“Gross,” you muttered.
“What?”
“Got a light?”
“Blow me.”
Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.
“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.
“Now keep your—HEY!”
Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.
He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:
“What the fuck was that?!”
“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”
Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.
“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.
“I’m aware.”
“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”
You told him.
Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.
And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.
Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.
He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.
He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:
‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’
He saw you cringe.
“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”
The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.
Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.
“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”
“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”
You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.
“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.
He couldn’t help it.
Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.
Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.
“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.
Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.
“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:
“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”
Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.
“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”
Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.
The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.
You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.
Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.
On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:
“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”
Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.
“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”
At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.
“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”
You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.
Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.
Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.
Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.
“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.
Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.
You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.
Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.
As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.
Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.
He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.
He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.
He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.
No fucking way.
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You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.
Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.
“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.
“The one and only.”
Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.
It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.
He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.
His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.
“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.
Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.
Now you were waving to him from your front door.
Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.
And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.
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2:21 AM
You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.
Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:
1:09 AM – Maria
DUDE
1:09 AM
TOMMY JUST CAME HOME
1:09 AM
THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR
1:13 AM
IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!
1:13 AM
ABORT ABORT ABORT
1:42 AM
DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME
1:54 AM – Dave York
Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u
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sparrowhawk-station · 7 months
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It’s her birthday 🦐🎉
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maybe-arts · 5 months
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IT'S DONE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIRBY!!!
If you've been following me the last month, you've seen me posting invitations to join Kirby Birthday Collab. Well, as today is 27th, I'm proud to present the result of this collab!!
This collab ended up even bigger than the last year's one. When last year we mainly had only Dream Friends (with some special guests like Morpho, Galacta and Elfilin), this year we've got characters from many more groups, including villains! We've almost left no one behind lol
The image above might be a bit scuffed (anti-AI protection, and all that), but no worries! You can click on it to see full, uncompressed image and see everyone's work that's been put into this!
A HUGE thank you to everyone who participated, and to everyone who wanted but either learned about it too late or didn't manage - don't worry! Looks like this thing might be annual from now on (or until i run out of steam lmao), so you'll get plenty of chances to join next year! Just keep your eyes peeled around March-April :3
And now, everyone who participated in this collab:
@squeak-art - Daroach, Dark Nebula and Squeakers + two bonus polaroids (the one with Nebula and the one with Squeak Squad) @sacrificecage - Hyness and Shadow Kirby @aseuki - Sectonia (absolute madlad) @giantchasm - Elfilin, Fecto Forgo + possessed Awoofy and Rick @taranzas-biggest-fan - Taranza and President Haltmann + bonus polaroid with Wave 3 trio and Kirby @sourghostsoda - Dark Meta Knight and Galacta Knight @spidersandtomatos - Zan Partizanne + bonus polaroid with their OC and Zan @kachikirby - Samus Aran and Francisca + bonus polaroid with Samus @eleart - Meta Knight @azumetapraline - Magolor @tinybandee - Sailor Dee and UFO @a-stardusted-sky - Landia @mementomarx - Morpho Knight @xxmooncheetosxx - Ribbon @rosakikoza - DMS and Zero @hascaple - Chuchu @deafeninggardenerpanda - Void and Arthur (also special thanks for allowing me to organize it on his server that i've been advertising all this month lol) @pixbit - Prince Fluff @eryth-arts - Susie and Flamberge @deefighter2739 - Bandee @skitty-kirby - Sword and Blade Knights @hoshi-no-mahoroa - Coo @diroxide - Fecto Elfilis @starrveria - Tiff @nausylemmyj - Adeline @thecreatorlynne (on Instagram) - Miracle Matter + bonus polaroid with all the Matters @thundermarisol - Pitch, Pick, Mine, Shiro, Nyupun and Pitch Mama @michirikapchiyyy - Falspar and Dragato @galapathy - Nonsurat and Nightmare @wybienova - Clawroline + bonus polaroid with Clawroline @mistilteinn-magolor - Gooey @superskullz64 - Spinni, Doc and Storo @starrysorry - Tuff, Fololo and Falala @tazmilygray - Elline and Keeby @icy-dark-star - Leongar @yokyoaaa - Nago and the Meta-Knights (Axe, Trident, Mace and Javelin Knights) @itsquakey/@chickenhoops - Marx @chibihuey - Drawcia, Claycia and Kine (and colored Nightmare) + bonus polaroid with four Kirbies
and yours truly was the one who combined all of this in a single piece + drew Dedede and main birthday boy himself, Kirby!
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backwzzds · 1 year
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ೃ⁀➷ love yours, roronoa zoro (nsfw)
zoro’s feelings gets stronger for you after you give life to his child.
for the brilliant @noawithlove
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you finally managed to put kuina down for the night. with a heavy sigh, you hold your hands on your hips and look down at your sleeping child, swaddled in her pink blanket as she rested in her bassinet. you can’t help but fall asleep standing up, only to jolt back awake when you feel a broad chin rest on your shoulder.
“oh,” you let out a breath once you turn and see zoro. he could physically feel the tense tendons in your body briefly relax, but go back to defensive mode quickly. you were just exhausted, and he could see the effects of motherhood all over you.
“come on,” he mutters in your ear, slowly running his hands along the curves of your waist before disappearing right after. “come shower with me.” you turn around to see his reflection in a piece of the bathroom mirror.
the water is hot. steaming enough to soften the muscles in your back just a bit. you’ve been out of it the past few months, zoro could see it. the glimmer in your eyes he’d been so used to was slowly dimming away, even when you held kuina in your arms.
he knew how much child birth took out of you. all the nutrients and energy you’ve lost in the past four months, he could see it all in the paling of your normally colored skin, the dark circles forming around your eyes, and even something as small as the slight tremble in your body every time you moved. giving birth took a lot out of you.
you allow zoro to grab your wash cloth and soap it before briefly running over the terrain of your body. he spends longer time than usual going over your chest, and you don’t miss the way his fingers take their time across the pebbles of your nipples.
“you’re staring awfully hard?” you can’t help but tease him with a lazy smile. you were glad to have him home. you weren’t alone anymore. “you got a crush on me or somethin’, marimo?”
zoro’s face immediately turns red at you catching him in the act of staring and he kisses his teeth, finishing his work against your body. he leans down and begins on your legs with a quick, “shut up.” leaving his lips. “just look pretty is all.” he loved how quick he was able to get you to be yourself again. your funny self that played entirely too much with him.
you didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but you did anyway. your round eyes go big as you look down at the top of his head, one so close to between your legs. “really? you think so?”
this causes zoro to stand back on his feet and scoff. “course you are. couldn’t stop staring at your fine ass since i got home.” his frame so easily towers over you as he pulls your naked body close to his. “gimme kiss,” his voice is low and smooth.
your body draws over to his like a natural magnetic forcefield. when your lips press against his, zoro takes his time feeling all over your body, leaving no part of you untouched or unloved. “want me to prove it to you?”
you playfully roll your eyes and hold your hand up to him. “i think the little gremlin sleeping in the bassinet outside is enough proof you’ve given me.”
zoro grabs your hand and moves it out his way to kiss your lips. “you keep being smart and i’ll make you a mommy again,” zoro mutters against you. “open your legs and turn around.”
a gasp leaves you as zoro grows impatient and presses you against the cold wall himself. snaking his hand around to your front, he effortlessly plays with your clit while pestering small kisses to the nape of your neck. the little hairs at the back of your head lay flat as you feel his tongue run against them, licking you all over.
you didn’t understand how much this man loved you. he’d live in your fucking skin if he could. zoro takes his time licking down your body, and before you knew it, you were wet enough for him to easily slide himself between your folds.
you’re taken aback by how big he is. you’ve been used to his size for years, but you can’t remember the last time you’ve actively felt such a stretch in your cunt, and one this good at that. a small yelp escapes from your lips as zoro finally moves back and forward against you.
“zoro,” you whisper, eyes shutting from the immense pleasure. “faster, please.”
“sure your walls can handle that, baby?” zoro teases, but obeys your wish anyway. a smirk curls on his lips as he grips your fat tit in his hand, giving it a tight squeeze while his pace increased. “not still sore are you?”
you immediately shake your head at his question, wanting him to do nothing but slut you out for tonight. you only got a few hours before kuina woke up, and if you had to use it to get dick, then so be it!
“not gonna go easy on you,” zoro egged. “you’re gonna stay against this wall and take every inch of dick i give you like the good girl i know you are. got that?” you groan at the warm sensation of his tip hitting your cervix. words are barely able to leave your mouth as zoro speeds up his pace. you didn’t even have to do anything; he practically held your body up against the wall while he did all the work.
the swordsman wanted nothing than to be close to you, and that much showed in the way his chest was practically glued to your back. at this angle, zoro was able to hit places in your walls that you didn’t think he could ever touch. but nothing was impossible when it came to pleasuring you. he was gripping you all over, by your hair, keeping his arm around your neck in a slight chokehold, even down to your waist that he refused to let go of.
you feel yourself about to cum with the intense pressure of the hot water falling on your sides and zoro’s masculine grunts singing like music to your ears. it was amazing how everything in the outside world; outside of you and zoro were able to overstimulate you so fast. but with the steam of the bathroom heating up and the knotting feeling forming between your legs, you didn’t know where to keep your attention.
you can’t help but smile contently against the cold tile wall as you let zoro do whatever he wanted to you. over the sound of your man’s strained grunts, you softly let out, “know what i said earlier, but don’t you get me pregnant again, marimo. cuz this one’s going upstairs if you do.”
zoro can’t help but let out a humorous chuckle at your comment. this doesn’t slow his possessive thrusts though. “can’t promise it, mama.”
2K notes · View notes
detachedminxsfics · 1 year
Text
Motel
Masterlist
Characters: Negan (Dead City) x F!Reader
Summary: You've grown particularly close with the Motor Inn's personal walker killer and decide to pay his motel room a visit.
Word count: 4.5K
Warnings: NSFW - Oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, hair pulling, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, negan's usual foul mouth, gentle dom negan
A/N: If you're from my tiktok (which spawned the chaos that motivated me to finish most of this bc you guys are crazy), hello! This is my first time managing to actually finish and upload a oneshot in months, so I apologise in advance. I was also extremely tired when I wrote most of this, but I hope it was worth the wait for the handful of you bombarding my comment sections for the past 24 hours. 😂 I knew what I had to do the moment I saw that shower scene...like damn.
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You downed your third shot of the day before slamming it back down onto the counter and wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes idly following the neon lights on the sign hung proudly behind the bar. The Easy Stay Motor Inn. It was a shithole. It only served as a way of keeping four walls and a roof over your head, and walkers off your ass. Speaking of, there was only one guy you'd grown particularly fond of during the month you'd spent working for the lady who owns this place and lapping up the amenities of their accompanying motel, Negan. He wasn't from around here, that much you gathered just by taking one good look at him, but then neither were you. You were both drifters. Heading from one place to the next, never staying anywhere long enough to see it through and find out whether it'd go to shit or hold out long enough before eventually falling to pieces. You just kept moving. That mentality had served you well so far and had kept you alive long enough to say that you'd made it well over a decade into the apocalypse now, not that you had much to show for it.
"Want another?" The guy behind the bar asked, half expecting you to agree to it as you had with all the others and making his way over to the bottle of vodka you'd been chipping away at.
"No thanks", you shook your head with a small smile and slid off the bar stool, "I'm gonna go try to entertain myself someplace else, but don't be surprised if I come back and finish that off later." You gestured to the vodka with a tilt of your head, and the certainty in your tone had the bartender smiling.
You headed towards the backdoor that led to the motel out back, the harsh change of lighting making you squint and shield your eyes to adjust for a moment, the dim vivid hues of the neon-lit windowless bar you'd been sitting in for the past hour or two being snuffed out once you stepped into the natural sunlight. Visual disorientation aside, you made your way down the row of motel rooms lined at your side, your interest only lying with the idea of arriving at one motel room in particular, and you stopped in front of the door when you found it. The door was a stark black to match the wooden panels sitting on either side of the window not too far from the right of the door, vines having wrapped around some of the slats in the wood from the overgrowth of shrubbery on the floor beneath it. It was run down and uncared for like just about anywhere else in this world. You tested the handle to see if the door was unlocked and to your surprise, it was. Twisting it fully you pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind you as you began to observe the interior of the room. It was generically decorated like just about any other room in this place, and he didn't seem to have left anything behind for you to snoop through. The room was so empty that if you didn’t know any better you might have thought that he'd moved on already, packed up all his shit and hit the road. You figured that this was on purpose and probably explained why he didn't care too much when it came to keeping the door locked since he didn't have any shit to steal. Smart.
Negan hadn't been around for too long now, in fact, he'd only arrived about a week after you, but he left a lasting first impression. He was useful. He pulled his weight by taking care of any of the walkers that roamed or wandered into the perimeter of the motor inn, and was never bad company on the occasions that he'd sat on the bar stool next to you and made conversation. As time went on you'd gotten closer and more comfortable with one another, and you quickly found yourself noticing that Negan was the one person you'd opened up to the most in the duration of your entire stay here, better yet felt the most comfortable doing so with. Your vulnerability wasn't one-sided, either. He never went into an awful load of detail, but he had a bad past. He wasn't on the run per se, but there was a group of people that he was hoping to avoid the possibility of encountering for the rest of his days, a community that he had a difficult history with. He alluded to what seemed to mostly amount to horrible shit that most people had done by now just to stay alive, the kind of things you see at night when you close your eyes, haunting you from the backs of your eyelids. You paid it no mind, and you told him that too; he seemed to appreciate your lack of judgement. Gradually, the conversations grew more personal and not so casual, things got flirty. It was subtle, but Negan would make small coy comments on things that you say, or little compliments now and again that toed the line a tad too much for what could be considered harmless flattery or him shooting his shot. You were able to keep yourself humble up until the night when he had jokingly mentioned how good your ass looked in your jeans after more than a few drinks, not that he needed it to let you know just how much he was checking you out. Your thoughts were interrupted by the twist of the doorknob and the sight of it being pushed open afterwards, revealing a rather sluggish and slightly dishevelled-looking Negan. Negan had a silver beard that he seemed to keep well-maintained, the hair decorating his top lip thicker than the rest. His dark hair was always slicked, though it seemed to have transitioned to more of an ashy brown over time with grey tinging at the sides of his hair. He was ruggedly handsome, that was for sure. A grin crept onto his lips when he noticed you standing by one of the beds, closing the door behind him and running his hand through his hair, slicking some of the strands that had fallen out of place in the process.
"Just letting yourself into my place now, huh? We graduating from drinking buddies to whatever the hell this is?" He quipped but was amused by how bold you were to just waltz on into his motel room.
"It's not like you don't want me here." You remarked with a knowing smile as you sat on the end of one of the double beds, to which Negan chuckled and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, a seemingly small mannerism of his that always drove you wild.
"Touché."
He sauntered to the bed next to you until he stood at the foot of it and started to shrug off his leather jacket with a sigh.
"Well whatever it is honey, it's gonna have to wait. I have been out there cracking rotting skulls for who knows how long, and now I need a damn shower."
The checkered flannel shirt he'd been wearing open underneath it was next, him tossing it on the bed in front of him before his fingers brush over the hem of his black tank top. He glanced at you with the material still pinched between his fingertips, a cocky smile creeping onto his lips as he noticed the way you were shamelessly staring at him and didn't seem to plan on stopping anytime soon.
"You gonna watch me strip now too, darlin'?"
You playfully shrugged and let your eyes wander down his torso, an eye movement Negan most certainly followed judging by the way his smile grew, as did his ego.
"I can turn around if you're too shy, Negan."
The throaty chuckle he let loose was almost immediate, his eyebrows raised as he shook his head in disbelief.
"Me, shy? Fuck no. You can stare your little heart out, and you would most definitely be staring."
Well, you certainly hadn't expected him to take it with such pride, so you caved and turned so you were facing the wall next to the bed. You could hear the sounds of clothes falling against the sheets and the clinking of metal as he undid his belt, and then the zipper on his leather pants.
"You still thinking of sticking it out here for a bit longer? I know last time we spoke you weren't so sure." Negan muttered as he got his pants down to his ankles and started to try to shake his ankles out of them.
You thought for a moment, then sighed a little.
"I think so? I don't know, I'm just trying to go day by day. Why, would you miss me?" Your tone picked up towards the end as did the enthusiasm in your voice, the suggestion making Negan's sudden laughter start in the form of a snort.
"Miss you? Shit, course I would. I'd probably move on from here after that."
You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself unable to form the right words. He made it sound like you were the only reason he was still staying here, and that without you there'd just be no point. You didn't ask him to elaborate though, just silently rolled the thought around in your head.
"Well, time to take that shower. I'll be right back, and I don't know maybe we can grab a drink or some shit afterwards?"
"Sure." You mumbled in response.
After that all you heard was the soft tread of his footsteps as he made his way past you and into the bathroom, then the sound of the water being turned on and beginning to crash against the floor of the shower for a few moments before it became more muffled with Negan's body interrupting the stream, and you turned back to face something other than the blank yellow wall you'd be staring at whilst he was stripping. You did your best to focus on the small details of the room to occupy your head, the peculiar framed pictures decorating some of the walls, and the hideous design choices when it came to the taste of the room, but it was no use. All you could think about was what Negan had looked like underneath all those clothes when he was a mere few feet behind you, and what he looked like right now standing in the shower in the very next room, the image of water droplets trailing down his torso and body making it harder to stay seated with every passing second until you just couldn't take it anymore. You stood to your feet and made your way to the bathroom, standing in the doorway for a moment as you stopped in your tracks. The shower had a sliding door that Negan had slid shut, the distortion of the glass still allowing you to be able to make out the sight of him with his head tilted town and one of his palms pressed up against the wall, and the tattoo decorating his shoulder blade. There was no turning back now, you had made up your mind. You approached the glass and gave it a soft knock, the sound startling Negan a little as he turned and slid the glass just enough for him to lean into the gap he'd made.
"Everything okay?" He asked, concern tinging his voice as he used his other hand to sweep some of the hair that had fallen into his face back in place.
Your only response was the sight of your fingertips grasping the hem of your top before you pulled it over your head, holding the top in your hands for a moment as you gazed at him, trying to gauge Negan's reaction to your now exposed breasts. He seemed taken aback for a moment or two, and then his eyes darkened with lust.
"Can I join you?" You asked, fingers teasingly dancing along the waistband of your jeans as though you could tell by just the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to deny your offer.
He didn't.
"Fuck yeah you can." He rasped with a shit-eating grin, leaning back and pushing the sliding glass all the way open to make room for you to join him.
You stripped until there was nothing left, discarding all of your clothes into a pile on the tiled bathroom floor and stepping into the shower with him. The first thing you noticed was the heat. The steam from the hot water, the heat coming from Negan's body, all of it swarming your body with warmth. Then, him. All of him. From the water droplets falling from the scruff of his beard, the dark hair decorating his chest and trailing down the centre of his torso, and even the skull tattoo inked on the right side of his chest. The man was gorgeous. Your eyes dragged down his body, drinking in every inch of him until you got to the part you'd been anticipating most, but were interrupted. He cupped the underside of your jaw and urged your head back up, his thumb brushing along your chin as the tip of his thumb traced just along the edge of your bottom lip.
"You like what you're seeing, huh?" He seemed to be making more of a statement than genuinely asking, but you entertained him nonetheless.
"A lot." You replied simply, the intense and lustful look your eyes were lit with corrupting your stare as your eyes bore into his.
"Good."
He used the hold on your jaw to guide your lips to his, his lips claiming yours. The hand that had been cupping your chin moved to grasp the nape of your neck, his other hand gripping your hip and drawing your body against his. You could feel him hard against your thigh as he groaned into the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth so you could taste him and his hands keeping you pressed firmly against his body, your own hands beginning to wander from the top of his chest down to his abdomen. The water cascading down his shoulders caressed along your fingertips and down your breasts, the warm water trailing down your body whilst he continued to move his lips against yours until you couldn't breathe, and you were forced to pull back for air. The moment you did Negan dove his head into the crook of your neck and pressed his lips against your pulse point, gently sucking the skin there and occasionally teasing it between his teeth in a way that was sure to leave marks, his beard scratching along your jaw as he did. The attention he paid your neck had your hand rushing up the nape of his neck and into his hair, combing your fingers through the back before taking a fistful of his wet strands. The slight tension on his scalp and the way your breath was shaking right by his ear made him pause for a moment to smile against your skin, a hoarse chuckle following shortly thereafter. The warmth of his breath from the laugh felt hot on your skin, and you used the strands of hair you'd taken in your palm to urge his head back until his face was inches from yours again. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip when you found your voice.
"You've thought about this before haven't you, fucking me?"
His brows raised at your boldness, the corners of his mouth fighting a smile.
"Damn right I have. I'd have to be blind or crazy not to, you are easy on the eyes, darlin'."
"Oh?" You tilted your head as you feigned mock surprise, his eyes looking you over like you were good enough to eat, and you might just let him.
Slowly you leaned in and seductively ran your tongue over his lips, finishing with a small kittenish flick at his top lip before leaning back. You soaked up the wanton look in his gaze when you sank to your knees, your eyes locked with his all the while. Now kneeling on the floor of the shower you reached up and closed your hand around his shaft, the way his breath caught in his throat once he felt your touch giving you the encouragement you needed to lean in and run your tongue over the swollen tip, beads of precum gathering along your tongue as you did. As you licked at it you felt Negan's fingers stroke over your hair before he started to gather it in his hand, all of your hair soon clutched into his fist like a makeshift ponytail.
"Don't be a tease." He warned as he slid his free hand underneath your chin and cupped it, allowing him to use both the grip on your hair and your jaw to urge you forward.
Willingly your lips parted, his cock sliding past your lips and into your mouth.
"Fuuuck, there we go." Negan slurred as he slid further into your mouth, stopping just before he reached your throat.
He grunted once you flattened your tongue on the underside of his shaft and leant forward, bracing one of his hands against the tiled wall of the shower when he lowered his head to look at you.
"Shit, you look so good with a mouthful of cock." He rasped crudely with the dirtiest smile before pushing himself down your throat, and you fought the urge to gag as he did.
He started to move his hips, the motion prompting you to place your hands just above his knees for support whilst he slid in and out of your throat. Soon enough tears began to well in your eyes, the urge to choke too great as you finally gagged on him, the sensation making Negan momentarily screw his eyes shut before sliding out of your mouth. He let you breathe for a moment or two before he was already pushing down your throat again, his groans getting louder and deeper with every thrust.
"Ohh, good girl." He cooed, his sounds of pleasure gradually turning into a blatant string of curses as he repeatedly thrust down your throat, and you shamelessly took every single inch.
Eventually, the movement of his hips got slower, his moans getting louder until finally his hips stuttered and his abdomen began to tense. He tightened his grip on your hair, the harsh grasp burning your scalp, and then you felt the hot wet spurts of warm liquid coating your tongue. You waited until you knew he'd spilt every last drop and then carefully removed him and swallowed his release, your breath a little laboured whilst Negan hovered above you with totally ragged, uneven breath, his eyes half-lidded as he tried to come down from the high of his orgasm. A few tears had escaped your waterline and slid down your cheeks as he fucked your throat, but it had mixed with the occasional stream of water trickling down your face from the shower.
"You did so good, baby. So good." He praised as he finally released your hair from his hand and started gently running his fingers through it instead, his touch soothing some of the pain he'd inflicted upon your scalp.
You stayed like that for a moment just listening to the sound of the water until you felt his hand leave your hair and the sight of him extending it out in front of you for you to take, which you did. He helped you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist the second you straightened your back, his mouth crashing against yours and allowing him to taste himself on your lips, the urgency with which he kissed you making you moan into the kiss a little. Whilst he stole your air Negan guided you backwards until your back came to press against the steamy tiled wall, the condensation pooling on the tiles smearing against your skin, and the faint coolness to it making you gasp. You wrapped your arms around Negan's neck to draw him in closer, your hips subconsciously moving to bring your groin against his and allowing his still proudly hard cock to brush against your inner thigh. You broke the kiss to try to regulate your unsteady breathing, leaning back just enough so that your lips were practically still brushing, the hot heavy pants Negan breathed against your lips making you need him all the more.
"Negan?"
"Yeah?"
"I need you inside me."
He couldn't hold back the dangerous look his eyes filled with when you whispered exactly what you needed, an arrogant look in his eye as he leaned back and cockily smiled.
"Your wish is my command, sweetheart. C'mere."
He slid his hands all the way up the backs of your thighs, towards your outer thigh, and then took hold of your hips. The gesture prompted you to do a small jump that allowed Negan to hoist you up and trap you between the wall and his body, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands moved to cup your ass. In one calculated movement Negan lined himself up and sank inside you, the way you stretched around him eliciting a filthy moan from your lips almost immediately.
"That feel good, baby?" He purred, his voice full of arrogance.
He knew it did, he just wanted to hear you say it.
"Yes, god yes." Was all you could manage as he set a hard and intense pace, drawing all the way out before slamming back inside you, the feeling of fullness with every thrust making your mouth fall open.
One of your hands slid down his chest, his dark chest hair brushing up against your fingers as you did, whilst the other slid up his shoulder and moved to rest on the nape of his neck. His fingers were digging into your skin with the grip he had on you, strands of your hair clinging to the condensation of the tiled walls as you slightly threw your head back, uncontrollable sounds of pleasure spilling from your lips from the way he roughly fucked into you. The overwhelming sensation caused you to idly weave your fingertips in the hair at the top of his neck and run your hands through the back of his hair, occasionally tugging at it when he buried himself especially deep and you could do nothing but squirm in his grip. The water was still running just off to Negan's side, the hot water wasting onto the floor and creating a small pool at his feet. With the way you'd angled your body it allowed him to lean in and lick a stripe up the valley between your breasts, your skin feverishly hot against his tongue as he gathered some of the water droplets and left nothing but a trail of spit before beginning to kiss up your throat. He littered your neck with kisses, moving his affections to the side of your neck before planting a few kisses along your jaw, his stubble scratching along the side of your face all the while. It felt like heaven. You couldn't think about anything other than his touch, the way his mouth shamelessly marked your skin, the sounds of his heavy breath and the guttural groans spilling from his throat like music to your ears. By this point your sweet moans grew to resemble sobs, your legs slightly shaking in his hold as Negan thrust into you over and over, and a feeling started to burn in the pit of your stomach unlike anything you had ever felt before.
"Negan." was all you managed to choke out, practically in the form of a cry.
All you felt was his lips claiming yours, and the occasional parting of your lips just enough for him to whisper into the kisses.
"I got you, I got you, baby." He swore over and over, his gentle reassurance paired with his hard thrusts tipping you completely over the edge, and your whimpers getting lost in his heated kisses.
You feel the knotting in your abdomen just before everything comes crashing over you, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you clench around him as Negan continues to fuck you throughout your high, your mind hazed with overstimulation. Eventually his movements began to stutter, his abdomen clenching amidst the deep v-lines framing his hips, and a string of gravelly curses poured from his mouth. Carefully, Negan unwrapped one of your legs from his waist and urged you to set it down on the floor of the shower, the other still wrapped around his hips as he held it there. His free hand moved down to his shaft, wrapping his hand around it and giving it a few quick strokes until he finally came. His hold on your leg became more of a firm squeeze as he threw his head back a little and grunted, liquid splashing over the top of your inner thigh and beginning to gradually trickle down your leg. The bathroom was full of steam now, the air thick with humidity and both of your chests rising and falling rapidly as you both tried to catch your breath. After a few moments you felt Negan place your other leg down, his release still dribbling down your skin as you tried to come down from your incalculable high. His breath evened out a little, his eyes still half-lidded when his hazel eyes locked with yours, his gaze capturing you amidst the knowing grin playing on his lips. You were totally fucked out, and the sight made him chuckle.
"That good, huh?" He teased with raised brows, his tongue dragging over his bottom lip making you playfully roll your eyes and manage a small laugh.
"Shut up."
You'd give credit where credit is due, the man knew what he was doing, but you couldn't allow yourself to stroke his almost nauseating large ego any further. He shook his head with a smile, both of his hands smoothing over your waist and then taking hold of it, using it to lead you towards him. You let him coax you to the space closer to the shower head, the water now splashing directly against the back of his neck and trailing down his body, droplets of water simultaneously forming along Negan's jawline and repeatedly falling from his wet beard. He kept one hand on your waist whilst the other held one side of your face, his eyes boring into yours. His head tipped forward so he could rest his forehead against yours, water sliding down his neck when he started to speak in almost a whisper at first.
"If I hit the road, I want you to come with me."
You thought you may have not heard him right at first and leant back with slightly wide eyes, shock etched into your features.
"Really?" You muttered.
"Yeah."
A moment of silence passed, the stare you shared serving as more of an answer than any words you could utter, but you parted your lips to speak and did anyhow.
"You've got yourself a deal."
2K notes · View notes
katyswrites · 1 year
Text
don't call me 'baby'
PART 10 | SERIES
Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader
Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, mentions of pregnancy/a pregnancy scare, mentions of food and alcohol, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, ddlg dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n
Wordcount: 10.4K
A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?
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PART 10 | meet me in the afterglow
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Your walk to work was chilly enough to warrant a coat. That was perhaps the thing you missed least about home in the U.S. - even though the winters certainly got cold here, it was nowhere near the sub-zero temperatures you had grown up with during the coldest time of year. Maybe the only thing you missed was snow - in all of your time living here, you had only gotten a brief dusting once, and it had melted by the following day.
Still, a week out from Christmas, you now needed to wrap something warm around yourself as you walked down the street, heading closer to the city center as your shift was due to start. 
You were technically two minutes late to your shift, the coffee shop busy enough to have a line going out the door when you arrived. Yet, your manager Francesco said nothing - a small spark of joy in your day. 
You didn’t necessarily need to go back to work - Steve’s money had yet to run out. But, you felt good about earning your own money - and, the less you had to draw on his remaining funds, the less you had to think about him.
You hadn’t seen or spoken to Steve since the night of your argument. Well, that was only partially true - you had received one piece of communication from him. It came a few days later - you had been moping in your apartment, having barely left your room for days, when an envelope arrived. It had his familiar writing and wax seal, with another wad of cash and a letter made out to you:
I promise this is the last you’ll hear from me. I am a man of my word, so I promise to help provide for you until you’re finished with school. I’ll be transferring enough money to your account to cover all of your expenses, so no need to worry about your rent, food, anything of the sort… I really do want you to be able to focus on school, okay? So, please don’t protest, or try to send the money back. Please feel free to use the credit card if you need to. 
I’m sorry it ended this way. We both knew it was going to, but I apologize if I said anything out of line the other night. I truly do wish you the best. 
Take care,
Steve
Reading it had been a punch to the gut. The formality of it, the finality of it… you would’ve rather that you never heard from him again. You had stashed the letter in a box under your bed, and not looked at it since.
A few weeks after that, you had pregnancy scare. It was silly, really - but, your period was late, and if was the first conclusion your mind had jumped to. You had called Robin in a panic, begging her to come home - she did, with four different brands of pregnancy tests. Those 15 minutes of waiting for results were the most agonizing of your life - then, upon seeing them all negative, you fell to your knees and burst into tears.
“It’s okay,” Robin had cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re good it was a false alarm - you’re probably just late because of stress -”
“I know,” you sobbed. “I just -”
“What is it?”
You then had sat up, chest heaving as you sobbed.
“He’s really gone isn’t he?”
Robin held you in her arms that night as you cried yourself to sleep.
To your knowledge now, he had gone back to the U.S. - was he still in Chicago? Or, did he go back to New York? You realized it was better for you to not ask these questions, or to think of him at all. As the weeks had turned into months, you found yourself thinking of him a little less each day - but you still thought of him. You saw him in the passersby as you walked down the street, in every car window, in every businessman walking through the door to order a coffee. Sometimes, you’d hear a laugh, or get a brief whiff of cigarette smoke, and swear it was him. But it never was - it never would be again.
The days had dragged on, but luckily, you often found yourself too busy to dwell too much on thoughts of Steve. Between work and school, your plate was pretty full. With graduation in mere weeks, you had spent the entire term studying and working on your thesis. Steve’s remaining money, at least, allowed you to work far less hours than you had before - a small blessing, you supposed. 
The day was moving pretty quickly, the morning rush busy enough that two hours flew by without much notice. It was only during the afternoon lull that you found yourself able to look up from the espresso machine - only to lock eyes with a familiar face through the window.
Eddie smiled back at you, waving. You couldn’t help but grin, and beckoned him to come inside. He bounded through the glass doors, bursting into the coffee shop with the infectious, chaotic energy he always carries with him.
“Bella, how are you?” he asked, leaning over the counter with a big grin.
“I’m okay,” you said, shrugging.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Just okay?”
“Oh well - you know, a bit stressed with the end of term and all. But, that’ll all be over soon.”
“I’m almost done, too - just finishing up my exams, all of that nonsense.”
“Do you have someone for your thesis?”
You nodded. “Professor Hopper - he’s always had a soft spot for me,” you said, smiling fondly, thinking of the seemingly-gruff. 
“I have Clarke - I don’t actually know how much he knows about photography, he teaches chemistry for godsake, but apparently it’s a hobby or something, so he’ll sign off on whatever I do,” Eddie said, laughing.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you - I actually have my own studio space now.”
“What? Eddie, that’s amazing!”
He grinned. “Thanks - I mean, I’m still technically freelance, but I’m hoping once I’m fully graduated more work will start coming in. But for now, I don’t mind having some spare time to practice with the band.”
You did your best to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“Right - don’t forget me when you make it as a big rockstar, Eddie.”
He let out a hearty laugh at that, the infectious kind that had you joining in - you hadn’t laughed like that in quite some time.
“You know, you should come by later to check it out,” Eddie said. “I mean, if you want -”
You thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Sure, why not - I get off in about a half hour -”
“Perfect,” he cried, clapping his hands together. “I’ll just wait around then - and, uh, can I get an espresso? Since I’m already here and all.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile.
“Yeah, sure thing Munson - I’ll take my sweet time with it, just for you.”
The end of your shift flew by, and soon enough you were pulling off your apron, linking your arm in Eddie’s as he led you out the door and through the city.
The studio, as it turned out, was only a few blocks away. The space was small, but nice - a big glass storefront allowed plenty of light in, even with the fading sun, indicative of the short days of winter. Some of Eddie’s work hung framed on the walls - city scenes, candids of people on the street, bands in action at his favorite club… and even a few of you, from the project you posed for a few years ago.
“Wow - this is amazing, Eddie!” you exclaimed, glancing around the studio with genuine pride for your friend. You knew this was always the goal for him, what he always wanted to do.
“Grazie mille,” he said, beaming. 
“Do you have anything lined up?”
He nodded.
“Some - nothing too interesting. A few weddings, graduation photoshoots, things like that. Oh, do you want to see the photo lab?”
You let him lead the way into the back room, passing through a dimly-lit room with machines and equipment that you were sure you had no idea how to use. Newly developed photos were hanging around on clothespins, or spread across the table in the middle.
“Back there is the darkroom,” Eddie said, gesturing to a small door on the other side of the room. “But yeah, this is where the magic happens.”
“You develop all your pictures this way?” you asked, examining a few laid across the table.
He shook his head. “Not exactly - only the stuff I shoot on film. A lot of what I do is digital, and I edit that on my computer but… I really do love shooting film. I only really do that for specific things. Oh, which reminds me!”
He turned his back to you, rummaging through a filing cabinet until he produced a large manila envelope, extending it to you. You furrowed your brow, confused. You turned it to examine it properly - the only thing written on it was your name and a date, in Eddie’s telltale scrawl.
“What -”
“It’s those pictures I owe you, from your birthday party - sorry, it took me a while to get around to developing them.”
Oh. 
“Oh,” you said quietly, gripping the envelope a bit tighter. “Uh, thanks - that was really nice of you, Eddie.”
You were still staring down at the parcel in your hands, your hands shaking a bit - you had completely forgotten that Eddie had been taking pictures all night. Most likely because you had been a bit distracted at the time. But now…
“I think they turned out pretty nice, if you ask me,” Eddie said. “But, you can be the judge of that yourself.”
You pressed your mouth into a tight line, nearly feigning a smile as you finally met his eyes again. He was looking back expectantly, and you realized he wanted you to look at them now. 
“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled. “I guess I’ll just -”
You opened it up, sliding out the stack of photos - they were slightly bigger than the ones you had seen from a digital camera, on a beautiful matte paper that you knew must have not been cheap. This, you realized, was Eddie’s belated birthday gift to you.
You thumbed through the pictures - the first few were just candids of your friends on the dancefloor, or deep in conversation around the bar. There were a few of you and Robin, arms thrown around each other and smiling ear-to-ear.
There were quite a few solo shots of you, raising a glass to the camera, mid-laugh, or dancing - somehow, he had made it look like you truly were the center of attention, as if to tell people this is who we were there for! 
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, laughing quietly at a few of the shots, including one of Robin flipping off the camera as she kisses Vickie. Then, your smile dropped, because there he was.
Steve, looking as handsome as you remembered, but somehow also a stranger, or like a figment of your imagination. Somehow, a small part of your subconscious had convinced you over the last few months that perhaps he wasn’t real, a true figment of your imagination that had been too good to be true. But there he was, large as life, his arm wrapped around you as you smiled into the camera. You were smiling in his arms, a girl completely unrecognizable in some ways. In another photo, he’s pressing a kiss to your cheek as you laugh - you remembered that one being taken, that’s for sure. You gently trailed your fingers across the picture, as if you were hoping to reach in and pull that happy girl out, just to shake a bit of sense into her. You didn’t even realize you were crying until a fat wet teardrop his the page, rolling down and off the edge.
“Whoa - are you alright?” Eddie asked, his voice tinged with worry.
You jumped, having nearly forgotten that he was there at all. How long had you been staring at the pictures of Steve? For a few minutes, or hours? There was no way to know.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you said, the thickness in your voice betraying you. You pressed the heels of your hands under your eyes, willing the gentle tears to stop, sniffling.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked softly.
You laughed dryly, more hot tears welling up as you did.
“Nothing! I - they’re beautiful, Eddie. Really - thank you. You - you’ve really got a talent.”
Your voice wobbled a bit at the end, and you sniffled.
“I’m sorry, I - it’s nothing to do with you,” you assured him. “I just - I’ve been having a hard time lately.”
Eddie cocked his head, confused. Then, his eyes flitted down to the picture in your hands.
“Oh - I’m sorry, I - is this about him?” Eddie asked quietly, gesturing to the photos. You just nodded, avoiding his gaze again as you stuffed them back into the envelope.
“I didn’t know you two had broken up, I’m sorry -”
“We didn’t break up!” you snapped, harsher than intended. “Fuck, I - sorry, that came out wrong. We didn’t break up, because we were never exactly together. It’s just complicated.”
Eddie furrowed his brow. “Yeah, okay - well, I’m sorry to hear about your not-breakup. I guess I’m just a little surprised.”
“Why’s that?” you asked.
He shrugged. “I spent a long time looking at all of those when I was developing them - you know how they say pictures tell a thousand words?”
You nodded.
“Well - I take pictures of a lot of couples - weddings, engagement shoots, all of that… and I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.”
You felt your chest tighten - maybe you were being a lovesick idiot at your party, but Steve?
You shook your head. “No - Eddie, it… it wasn’t like that. I can promise you that.”
Steve made that perfectly clear.
Eddie shrugged again. “I’m just telling you what I observed, that’s all.”
“Well maybe you should mind your business,” you grumbled.
Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that.
Eddie’s face fell a bit, and he slowly took a step back, hands shoved in his pockets.
“My apologies,” he whispered. He was hurt, that much was obvious. You mentally kicked yourself.
“No Eddie - I’m sorry, I didn’t -” 
You sighed, frustrated.
“Things have been, like, really weird the last few months and… it doesn’t matter.”
“I could tell,” he said, voice quiet. “You’ve been.. Distant.”
You nodded, the awkwardness filling the space between you two. You had fucked this up too, somehow.
“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “Uh, it’s getting late, and dark… I probably should head home.”
“Yeah, okay - good idea, I have some stuff to work on anyway.”
You both nodded, avoiding eye contact as you both headed out back into the studio.
It wasn’t until you were at the door that you turned to face Eddie again.
“The place really is beautiful… I’m proud of you,” you said sincerely. He offered a small smile in return.
“Thanks.”
“I also - the pictures are beautiful. Thank you for these, I - they’re great.”
“I’m sorry if they -”
“Don’t apologize,” you said firmly. “They’re great - you’ve really got a gift, you know.”
You could tell Eddie was fighting a real smile, a small win in your book.
“C’mon, you know my ego’s just fine on its own.”
You laughed, and without thinking, pulled him into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry I lost it a little earlier,” you whispered.
“It’s alright,” he said, pulling away. “Heartbreak is funny like that.”
You decided not to bother protesting his assessment this time, too tired to start a fight again just to feel something.
“Right, okay.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take out the photos with… him?” Eddie asked, gesturing down to the envelope.
“No, that’s alright - I’m a big girl, I can go through them. I’m definitely going to hang a few of these up though, so thanks again.”
“Take good care of yourself darling, alright? And come by any time - for any reason.”
It was an olive branch, an assurance that things were okay. You forced a smile, nodding.
“Thanks, Eddie - you’re a great friend, you know.”
You bid your farewells, and left the studio with a strange feeling settling within you. You pulled your coat a little tighter around you, stuffing the envelope underneath as you charged through the chilly evening air to the nearest bus stop.
You didn’t get home until nearly 6pm, the winter sky fully dark by then. By the time you walked a few blocks and up the stairs to your apartment, your face was stinging from the cold, the wind picking up more since that afternoon.
Robin was on the couch, a rerun of Friends playing on the TV.
“Hey! You’re back kind of late,” she remarked.
“Yeah - I ran into Eddie, funnily enough,” you replied, hoping you sounded nonchalant.
“Oh really? How is he? I miss him - we should really make a plan to hang out with him soon -”
“Yeah, for sure,” you said, kicking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the rack. “He’s good - I saw his new studio, it’s nice.”
“Oh, no way! That’s great - I need to go sometime -”
“Yeah, totally,” you said, absentminded. “Uh, I’ve got some stuff to do, but I’ll be out here later -”
“Maybe we can get takeout or something -”
“Yeah, perfect -” you tittered, closing your bedroom door behind you, eyes on the envelope in your hands.
You bit your lip, debating what to do. Part of you considered finding all of the pictures of Steve, and burning them. But, that felt a bit dramatic. You pulled out the stack again, sifting through until you found the shots of him. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at how happy the girl in the photos was - if only she knew how quickly things would fall apart that night. The photo of Steve kissing you cheek was your favorite - it was just full of pure, unbridled joy. The one after that was the one you stared at for quite some time, though. You were looking into the camera, grinning widely. Steve, however, wasn’t - no, he was looking at you. You stared at him for quite some time - and remembered Eddie’s words.
I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.
You had thought it was crazy - but, in the picture, Steve was looking at you like you’d hung the stars. Like, if he didn’t have you, he’d be lost. He was looking at you with eyes full of love - you just hadn’t been looking.
You gasped, realizing what Eddie had seen that you couldn’t - maybe everything had meant more to Steve than he had let on. No, that was crazy - wasn’t it?
What happened next didn’t have much explanation - it was probably crazy. You found yourself Googling Steve’s company headquarters in Chicago - it couldn’t be this easy, could it? But it was.
A quick call through the directory brought you to his secretary, a bubbly woman who was more than happy to help. You pretended to be the secretary of a business partner you had remembered Steve mentioning, saying how you wanted to send a thank-you gift - it had been too easy to get his home address, really. And, a confirmation that he was back in Chicago.
The next morning, you sent out an envelope, sticking on international postage. You debated not putting your name on the return address, but ultimately decided to include it - he’d recognize the address anyway. When you dropped it at the post office, you walked away feeling a sense of relief - and, perhaps, just a bit unhinged. TIme would tell if anything came of it. But, at the very least, it felt like finally closing the chapter of your life that had been defined by Steve Harrington. And, that was a good thing… right?
********
The day before Christmas Eve, you received great news: confirmation that you had passed all of your exams, your thesis receiving glowing feedback from the professors in your department. Your degree, which studied Art History and Travel and Tourism Management, meant that you would actually be able to stay here - you hoped to work in tourism in some way right here in Rome, or perhaps work in one of the city’s many museums - being bilingual would help, and more importantly, it meant you never had to set foot back in the United States again, if you didn’t want.
Christmas brought its usual cheer and celebration, complete with mulled wine and a potluck dinner you and Robin held for some of the other foreign students you were friendly with, knowing they didn’t have families to go to for the holidays. Your graduation only brought extra festivities, including a speech prepared by Robin given as a toast at dinner, saying how proud she was of you (and, how jealous she was that you didn’t have to worry about schoolwork anymore). It was silly yet sincere enough to make you tear up and pull her into a big hug. Eddie and Jonathan even swung by for a bit, joining in on the celebration until the wee hours of the morning. Robin and Vickie were all over each otherYou ate and drank to your heart’s content before stumbling to bed, leaving cleanup in the kitchen for the morning.
The morning of Boxing Day, it turned out, was actually the afternoon, with you and Robin oversleeping. You, to your own relief, felt tired, but not too hungover - the same couldn’t be said for Robin and Vickie, who stumbled into the kitchen with grimaces on their faces and grumbles as a greeting.
You spent most of the day cleaning up from the last two days’ festivities, washing dishes and clearing away wrapping paper, wiping countertops and vacuuming just enough until your home felt semi-in order. 
You were still in your pajamas as it was getting dark again in the evening, a rarity these days. When Robin said she was heading out to dinner with Vickie and likely would be staying at her place that night, you bid her farewell, looking forward to some time alone to fully relax and unwind. 
It was several hours later, after scrounging together a dinner of Christmas leftovers and half-dozing on the couch while a movie played, that your doorbell rang. You sat up with a start, your heart jumping at the unexpected intrusion. You stumbled to the door, grumbling about who could possibly be here at this hour - maybe Robin decided to come back after all, and got locked out again? You were ready to playfully ridicule her when you opened the door. But when you saw who was standing on the other side, you froze.
Steve Harrington was there on your doorstep, barely illuminated in the dim light. His chest was heaving, his hair just a bit disheveled. His eyes widened when he saw you, and you imagined you did the same. Your heart plummeted to your stomach at the sight of him, so real and alive in front of you. Were you dreaming? Was this some sick prank?
Neither of you said anything for a moment, two mouths hanging open, searching for the words.
“It’s Christmas,” you blurted out, the first words you’ve said to him in over four months.
“It’s December 26th,” he replied, simply and casually.
“I - well, it’s still a holiday, kind of.”
“Yeah, I know - do you know how hard it is to catch a last-minute flight on Christmas?”
You just stood there in the doorway, unable to think of anything else to say - what the fuck?
“What are you doing here?” you asked, words biting. You were lashing out a bit, but you didn’t care - this moment right now reminded you of a similar one over the summer, when he came to your doorstep to explain how he wasn’t engaged. What was his excuse now?
“Why did you send me this?” he asked, holding up a familiar envelope - the photo.
Why did you? You weren’t certain of that answer yourself. So, you went with the first explanation that came to your head.
“It’s a good picture of you,” you said quietly.
He rolled his eyes.
“Do not - I don’t hear from you for months, then I get this in the mail - on Christmas Eve, mind you -”
“I’m sorry, were you supposed to hear from me?”
“I don’t know!” he cried. “Maybe?”
You scoffed. “You can’t be serious - you made it very clear that you never wanted to see me again.”
“I - what?”
“I wish you well? Take care? We ended things, Steve - what else was I meant to think?”
He sighed, his shoulders sagging.
“I don’t know. I guess part of me - it doesn’t matter. But, what am I supposed to make of this?” he asks, waving the envelope.
“I - Eddie gave me a bunch of pictures he took at my birthday party… I thought maybe you’d want that one.”
He took a tentative step closer towards you, gauging your reaction. You held your ground, not breaking eye contact.
“Is that the only reason?” he asked, voice low.
You felt your heartbeat quicken, your palms clammy - he really was just so handsome. Still, there was something so boyish about him, something that reminded you of why you fell for him in the first place. He had cut his hair a bit, his summer tan faded - and he looked tired. Then again, you probably did too - you suddenly became conscious of the fact that you were in your pajamas, still looking like you had just woken up - you wished you could disappear, never to be perceived again.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “The only reason.”
He was close enough now that you could see his Adam’s Apple bob as he gulped, his eyes glancing up and down your form as he took a deep breath.
“Tell me that, when you sent this, there wasn’t at least a small part of you that hoped I’d respond - that, when you sent this, you hoped I’d call, or show up here. If there wasn’t, I’ll walk away right now, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
There it was - everything laid out on the table. So much was still unsaid - but, it was obvious that he also had been hurting the last few months, that he didn’t want this to end, maybe even nearly as much as you did. 
“You really flew all the way here because I sent you a photo?” you whispered.
He nodded. “Of course I did.”
“You realize how crazy that is, right?”
He chuckled dryly.
“Well, they do say it makes you do crazy things.”
“...it?” you asked, voice wavering.
He nodded.
Oh.
“Come inside,” you murmured. “It’s pretty cold out there.”
As soon as the door was shut behind him, he began spiraling into a new explanation.
“I hope you know that I didn’t come here just to - you’re right, it is kind of crazy, but I didn’t know what else to do, after everything that happened -”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to talk at all.”
You both stood there for a moment, eyes locked on eachother. Then, as if reading each other’s minds, you both moved at once - you crashed your lips into his, fast and desperate. He sighed against your lips, pulling you close as his tongue slipped into your mouth. 
You felt like crying - you had missed him so much, more than you had realized - his voice, his warmth, his scent - it brought everything flooding back, the feelings you had buried in an attempt at self-preservation. But now, as you kissed him, you felt the tears well up, stinging your eyes as they rolled down your face, hot and fast.
“Whoa - baby, it’s okay - what’s wrong -”
Baby. 
“Nothing,” you cried, wiping the tears away. “I just - I really fucking missed you.”
You felt stupid to admit it, but then again, didn’t he come close to confessing that himself just a few moments ago?
“I know, I know, baby - you have no fuckin’ idea -”
Another kiss, passionate and apologetic.
“I didn’t mean any of what I said that night,” you gasped, pulling him closer. “I was just so scared -”
“I know, me too, baby - m’sorry -”
Baby. Babybabybaby.
He was holding your face between his hands now, backing you up until you were pressed against the wall, his lips finding yours again. He titled his head down to nuzzle at your throat, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin there. You tipped your head back, giving him full access to do as he pleased. He kissed and nipped at your neck, until you were moaning and crying out his name, pulling at his coat until it fell off of his shoulders. You twisted your hands in his button-down, his hands squeezing tighter on your waist in response.
“Fuck, Steve,” you breathed. “I’m sorry -”
“Stop with that,” he said, firmly taking your face in his hands again, catching your lips in another gentle kiss. “You’re right, I just realy don’t want to talk anymore -”
Then he was kissing you again, swallowing your noises as you whined his name, fingers gripping his hair.
“Bedroom, now,” you told him. “Please -”
“Yeah, okay.”
He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, both of you stumbling down the small hallway and into your bedroom, Steve slamming the door closed behind him with his foot.
“No Robin?” he asked, lips finding your neck again.
“No - ah! She’s at Vickie’s tonight -”
“Thank Christ,” he growled. “I don’t know how quiet I’m capable of being right now.”
He was apparently as desperate as you were, lips finding yours hungrily as he pulled your oversized t-shirt over your head, eyes practically rolling to the back of his head when he saw your breasts.
“No bra?” he asked.
“I was lounging around, until you showed up -”
“Thank god,” he practically snarled, his hands finding the small of your back to pull you close.
You reached between yourselves, unbuttoning his shirt, fingers slipping as they shook with anticipation. He reached down to help you, until he eventually shrugged the shirt off. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your bare chest to his, nearly crying again from the contact.
“I really missed you,” he whispered, a man ruined. “I never thought I’d be able to have you like this again -”
“None of that,” you murmured, pressing a finger to his lips. “It’s alright.”
You just stared at him, running your hands down his chest as you took a deep breath.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” he asked, face flickering with concern. “Oh god, are - are you seeing someone else? I didn’t even ask -”
“No! No, nothing like that,” you assured, biting your lip. “I just - do you remember the night of my birthday on our trip, on the rooftop?”
He nodded. “That was a really nice night.”
“I haven’t been totally honest with you,” you admitted, heart racing as you were ready to lay out the thing you had been terrified to admit aloud.
“About what?” he asked softly, cupping your cheek gently with his palm.
“Remember when I said something in Italian, and you asked what it meant? And I just said it meant I loved the gift, the star thing?”
He nodded. You took a deep, shuddering breath.
“That wasn’t exactly true. I - I said that I was in love with you,” you managed, voice quivering at the end. “That’s why I was so scared - I didn’t realize until I said it… I had broken our rule, our number one rule -”
“Hey, hey -” he cooed, shaking his head. “Did you mean it?”
You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah - I still do.”
The few seconds that passed after that had your stomach doing somersaults - what if he still didn’t feel that way, and everything he had said in the doorway was bullshit? You thought you were going to be sick -
But his face softened, his eyes glistening - was he going to cry?
“Fuck the rules. I stopped following those a long time ago,” he said.
Your heart fluttered, your face heating.
“Are you saying -”
“How did you say it in Italian again?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I’ve been slacking on my lessons without you around.”
You laughed. “Oh, um, it’s sono innamorato di te. It translates directly as I’m in love with you, or I’m falling for you.”
He nodded. “Well then - sono innamorato di te.”
You felt like your chest was about to explode, and before you knew it, you were crying again. He was too, you realized, his cheeks glistening with tears as he choked a sob with laughter.
“We could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we both just said that in the first place,” he said, reaching to wipe away some of your tears.
“How long?” you asked.
“Since the night of the gala I brought you to. So… longer. I guess I win.”
You sobbed again, Steve swallowing the sound with another kiss. It’s wet and salty with tears, a mess of apologies and confessions.
“Steve - I -”
“I know, baby,” he whispered, kissing your salty cheeks. “It’s alright - I’m here now -”
The conversation truly stopped after that - you couldn’t keep your hands off of one another, shedding clothes until you were nude and devouring each other with desperation unlike anything you had ever felt before.
Steve was pressing his lips between your breasts when you asked, voice breathy and filled with need.
“Steve - I need you, please -”
“Mm - yeah, okay -”
Before he could move, you were reaching down to grasp his cock in your hand. He gasped, pupils blown as his head thumped back against the wall. The noise that came out of him was unholy, wrecked and ruined as you brushed your thumb along his leaking tip.
“Christ, baby -”
“Can I suck you off, please?” you asked, desperate to make him come undone. 
“Honey - you can’t - I just, I wanna fuck you so bad… I won’t last if I let you get your mouth on me, baby.”
You pouted, even as your heart raced with the thrill of knowing you’d have him inside you again.
“Next time,” he said, “I swear.”
A promise of a next time, of a thousand more times - you started kissing him again, lips bruising his - losing yourself in any drink or drug would never compared to losing yourself in Steve Harrington, you decided.
“Get on the bed,” he muttered, gently pushing you back. You did as he asked, falling back onto the mattress gently as he joined you, face hovering inches from yours.
His hair was a mess, pupils blown and lips glossy. He just shook his head, as if in disbelief.
“What?” you asked.
“You’re just so beautiful,” he breathed. 
You felt your face heat, and you buried your face in your hands.
“Shut up.”
“About you? Not likely.”
Before you could come up with a clever remark, he was kissing your neck again, his lips traveling down slowly between the valley of your breasts, taking his time - he was going to leave bruises, you already knew.
But he didn’t stop, traveling down, down, down - 
“What are you -”
“I never said I didn’t want to taste you first,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I miss having my mouth on you so fuckin’ much -”
“Fuck,” you gasped. “You’re unreal -”
“Says you,” he retorted. Whatever you planned to say next died on your lips, anything resembling a coherent thought dissolving as his lips found your cunt.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, back arching as his tongue swirled around your clit.
“Just as fuckin’ sweet as I remembered,” he whispered, his breath against your pussy making your chest heave.
He licked a stripe along your slit, making your back arch off the bed, your eyes fluttering closed.
“Be loud for me, baby,” he murmured, lips finding your clit again. You did as he asked, moaning and crying out his name as he devoured your pussy, eliciting desperate sounds from you as your fingers wound themselves in his hair. He groaned as you pulled on his locks, encouraging you to continue doing so as he opted to slide a finger inside you.
“Fuck - Steve! Ohmygod, fuck -”
You felt him smile as he lapped and licked at your folds, adding a second finger and beginning to pump them in earnest, finding that spot inside of you too easily. 
You were crying out, bucking your hips against Steve’s lips, like putty in his hands. For about ten minutes you were completely his, mind numb with pleasure as he took you apart with his mouth. You let him, feeling the blunt fingernails of his free hand digging into your thigh, pulling you as close as possible.
“Steve - I’m gonna - I’m so close, y’feel too good -”
Encouraged, he picked up the pace a bit, sending you completely over the edge. When you came, you saw stars, grinding down on Steve’s mouth and fingers. You were screaming, and he helped you through it, nuzzling against your core as you pulsed around his fingers. Your hand left his hair and found his temple, gently coaxing him closer as you rode out your orgasm.
You were still breathing heavily as he kissed his way slowly back up your body, worshiping every inch of skin he could find. YOu didn’t let your eyes open again until he was face-to-face with you, chin glistening with your release as he wore a smug grin.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmured. “Tasted so good… you came so hard for me -”
“Mm -” you hummed, pulling him down for a kiss. You tasted yourself on him, the sensation completely euphoric.
“Do you need some time?” he asked gently.
You ran a finger over your clit, still sensitive and puffy, and shook your head.
“No, I’m okay - I actually really need you to fuck me.”
“Thank god,” he said, exasperated. “I don’t think I can go another second without fucking you -”
“I know -”
“I would dream about you, you know - all the time. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a hard-on, of a mess in my boxers like a fuckin’ teenager -”
“I know what you mean,” you admitted, recalling a few times you had thought of him as you touched yourself since he’d left. 
“Please tell me you’re still on the fuckin’ pill -”
“Yeah, I am - God, Steve -”
“I know, I know - ready baby?”
You nodded, locking your eyes with his as he positioned himself above you, pushing inside of you ever so slowly. You could tell he was holding back, doing everything he could to not enter you in one rough movement. You winced at the stretch, nearly forgetting just how big he was. He kissed apologies across your face, gasping as he felt your warm walls envelope him.
“Fuck -” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “I can’t believe I went so long without this - you feel so fuckin’ perfect, baby - such a tight, perfect pussy -”
“You feel so good,” you breathed, digging your fingernails into his shoulderblades. “Steve - I’m so full, please fuck me -”
He did as you asked, rolling his hips against yours, eliciting a groan from both of you. He was still holding back you could tell - but you didn’t have time for that, not after months of missing him, of missing this -
“Let go, baby,” you whispered. “Please -”
“What did you just call me?” he asked.
“I - baby,” you repeated. You realized you never had before - was that wrong?
“Say it again,” he breathed.
“Baby,” you breathed, gasping as he thrust into you a little harder. 
“Baby, please - fuck me, let go,” you cried.
It became fast and hard quickly, the desperation you shared impossible to mask. The slapping of his hips against yours was positively dirty, Steve’s arms caging you underneath him as he pounded into you. Your hand snaked down between you, your own finger finding your clit.
“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, continuing his relentless pace. “Touch yourself for me, just like that - M’not gonan last long, I’m sorry, you just feel too good -”
“It’s okay,” you assured, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I want you to lose it.”
He groaned, the room filling with the sound of slapping skin and moans, your names on each other’s lips.
Nothing else mattered, not when Steve was making you feel like this, not when he had flown across an ocean on a whim, a desperate hope to just see you again, even if only for a moment. You suddenly became so overwhelmed with love for this man, this person who had turned your world upside down - it was indescribable, impossible to even express. So you just held him tight, burying your face into his shoulder.
“M’close - I need you to come with me, baby - can you do that? I know you can, you’re always so good for me -”
You nodded, unable to formulate words anymore.
“I fuckin’ love you,” he cried, hips stuttering, his thrusts growing sloppier. “So much, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you - I love you, baby -”
His words sent you over the edge, white-hot pleasure surging through your body as you screamed his name. The feeling of you clamping around him sending him into his own orgasm. He spilled inside of you, your name on his lips like a prayer. He practically collapsed on top of you, the feeling of his heartbeat against yours feeling like home, like it was always meant to be this way.
Your breaths were labored, sweet kisses peppered across skin. Neither of you spoke for quite some time. After he rolled off of you, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as physically possible.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, slow and gentle. It was only when you pulled back, brushing some of his sweaty hair away from his face, that you broke the silence.
“I love you, too,” you murmured. You brushed your fingers along his face, and he caught your wrist, pressing kisses to your palm and knuckles, as if determined to worship you every chance he got.
“I want more than an arrangement,” he whispered. “I don’t want rules, or a deal, or -”
“Yeah, that was obvious,” you replied, chuckling. “And, me too.”
“And, you were right - you have school, and I never wanted you to think I just wanted you like a trophy or something - you have your own life, aspirations, and i know that - I just like spoiling you, but I never wanted you to give up who you are,” he said, face soft. “I need you to know that.”
“I do,” you murmured.
You really did. 
“Besides, I graduated.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What? When?”
“Officially? A few days ago.”
He smiled, soft and sincere - part of you was worried he might cry again.
“Congratulations - I’ll have to take you out to celebrate.”
“Mm - sounds good to me. How long - when are you here until?”
There was still life to reckon with, after all - living on two different continents, jobs, obligations - the kind of thing that could ruin this. But, he just shook his head.
“I bought an open-ended ticket. So, until whenever you want.”
“I - what? What about work?”
He shrugged. “Turns out, when you run the place, you can get away with that stuff.”
Your jaw dropped.
“What? Are you serious?”
He nodded. “Brenner’s out. I’m in - youngest CEO in the company’s history.” 
You laughed, pressing your palm to your forehead as you stared at the ceiling in disbelief.
“Steve - that’s amazing. But how -”
“Shhh - we’ll figure everything out later. But, let’s at least ring in the new year together, yeah?”
You nodded cautiously - he really was here, now, and wanted to make it work.
“Okay,” you said. “Sounds good.”
“Hey - you know what’s really pissing me off, though?”
“What?” you asked, wary as a pit of dread formed in your gut.
“I have to thank Eddie fucking Munson for fixing this.”
You laughed, a real, hearty laugh, and in that moment, you realized things were going to be okay.
******
That night, you slept better than you had in months, safe and warm in Steve’s arms. That was, until you woke to Robin’s scream the next morning, both of you shooting up in bed with a start.
“WHAT IS HE DOING IN YOUR BED?” she cried, shielding her eyes. “God - I wish I could bleach my eyes - motherfucker -”
Then, the door was slamming shut, Robin bemoaning her luck as she bolted down the hall to her own room.
You felt your face heat with embarrassment, sinking under the covers.
“Well - I guess I owe her an explanation -”
“Later,” Steve saidly, shaking his head incredulously. “For Christmas, I’m getting you a fucking industrial lock for that door!”
Then you were laughing, blissful and unable to control yourself, Steve joining you. He kissed the giggles away, pulling your body to his, and not much talking happened after that.
It didn’t matter what real life held after this - because Steve was here, and he was yours. Wherever you ended up, you realized, if you were with Steve, you would be home.
He was here to stay.
author's note: Hi y'all - thanks for your patience! This story isn't quite done - there will be an epilogue posted tomorrow. But, that's essentially the conclusion of don't call me 'baby' - I told you it would be a happy ending! Shoutout to @is-writing for some help with this. And of course as always, Em, without whom this fic wouldn't have happened. Comments, reblogs, and messages are always welcome - keep an eye out for the epilogue!
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elzdaizy · 2 years
Text
Trouble After Paradise (Part 1)
Warnings: lots of angst, conflict, explicit language.
Summary of short story: Reader and Harry have returned from their honeymoon to a harsh reality and their first huge hurdle as a married couple.
A/N: This is 1 of 3 parts. Enjoy! Just a little short story idea i had and wanted to share with you all.
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It’s been four weeks since you returned home from your honeymoon in Costa Rica and you’ve found yourself reminiscing constantly on that magical holiday.
To say the least, things have took a turn for the worst since you and Harry got home.
You were bombarded with mountains of piles of work to get through because there was no one to fill your position whilst you’d taken the month off leading up to your wedding, including the honeymoon.
Harry had started filming his next movie, one that was mentally draining due to his character being a very unwell mental patient at a psychiatric hospital.
You worked from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon in the office but always brought home some work to do which kept you busy until about eight at night when you’d get into bed.
Weekends were exhausting as well, you were catching up with friends and family after basically being off the grid throughout the week.
Harry’s shooting location, thankfully, was only a few hours away up north in Manchester so he managed to be home often between breaks but unfortunately meant that he wasn’t home with you for periods of times.
He tries his best to be at home with you on the weekends but his schedule doesn’t work that way all the time. On average you probably see each other a total of two days out of the week and it’s been this way the past four weeks.
You’ve both been so busy, you’ve barely had the time to live life together as a married couple. There’s a tension building full of stress and exhaustion on both ends of your marriage. You find yourselves bickering when you’re together and getting on each other’s nerves more than ever before.
You know it’s because you’re equally annoyed with yourselves and each other with the current situation.
It’s 8pm on a Friday night and Harry called you earlier that morning to let you know he’s coming home today at around 6:30pm and will be able to stay the full week until he’s off again. He asked for you to pick him up from the station because he had booked a meal at The Ivy for 8pm. You of course said yes. You were so excited to hear the news, you felt tears well up in your eyes. “I really can’t wait, I miss you so much.” You replied before you both said your goodbyes and I love you’s before hanging up.
What you didn’t know was that working would be busier than ever that Friday and now you’re still in the office trying to hurry up and finish off one last piece of paper work to be sent off to your client before the weekend. Your phone had died two hours ago and Harry hadn’t contacted you before it died so you weren’t too concerned that he would’ve tried to since then.
You could cry out of frustration. You purposely stayed back to get all this extra work done so you could book off Monday and Tuesday to extend your weekend to spend some time with your husband.
Half an hour later, you finally send the email and pack up your stuff. You race to your car and make your way home. The door is unlocked when you go to turn the key and your heart skips a beat when you realise that Harry must be home.
The lights are all off downstairs which is odd so you make your way upstairs to your bedroom to find Harry sat on the edge of the bed in just his underwear and his phone in his hands.
“Hi, baby.” You softly speak up as you walk through the door and put your bag and coat over the chair in the corner of the room.
Harry glances at you over his shoulder briefly without so much as a tiny acknowledgment of your presence before looking back to his phone.
You frown, thinking his behaviour seems a bit off. The energy in the room seems low and you can sense he’s not in a good mood.
You walk over to him, a hand on his shoulder and the other hand reaching to lift his head by tilting his chin in your direction for him to look up at you. As soon as you try to lean forward to place a kiss to his lips he yanks his head away from your touch and rolls his eyes, letting out a huff.
You step back, very offended and extremely hurt by his cold actions.
“Fuck you, then.” You throw your hands up and storm away to head downstairs to the kitchen. You’re literally trying so hard not to break down and cry right now so you’re pacing around your kitchen, breathing heavily for a few moments then deciding to pour yourself a large glass of wine.
You almost down the first glass. The second one being poured less than five minutes later. You’re just stood by your kitchen island with a glass of wine in one hand and thoughts racing around your mind as you try to figure out why your husband seems to despise you at the moment.
You soon realise it could possibly be the fact that your phone was dead and maybe he was trying to get ahold of you.
You start to feel a pit of guilt in your stomach when you take your phone from your pocket and plug it into the charger point next to your toaster.
You finish your second glass of wine once your phone switches on and your eyes widen when you notice the ten missed calls and five unread messages from Harry.
You read the texts carefully one at a time.
From Harry:
6:09pm - l’m fifteen minutes away from the station if you want to set off now. Love you. Xx
6:30pm - Where are you? I’m waiting near the security box until you’re here. Xx
6:53pm - I’ve rung you five times and you’re not answering so I’m making my own way home now.
7:26pm - Why aren’t you answering and why aren’t you at home? You do realise we have to be at The Ivy in half an hour.
8:03pm - cancelled the booking. If you read this before you come home - don’t bother me when you get in, I can’t be arsed with this tonight.
You heart feels like it’s going to stop. You have never felt more terrible in your life. You feel like a punch to the gut is what you deserve right now and nothing less. And to think, you literally just spat in his face and said fuck you to him, still not realising what you’d done.
You were so fixated on wanting to spend the week with Harry that you’d completely forgotten about picking him up and going out for dinner tonight.
You were a little drunk and very upset with yourself so of course the only thing currently you did was start to cry. You sat on a stool at your island, lent your elbows on the countertop, put your face in your hands and sobbed. Sobbed for your husband and how upset he must be feeling. Sobbed at the realisation of how much you hurt him and let him down. You felt like a failure.
After about thirty minutes of letting your feelings flow out of your system uncontrollably, you composed yourself and prepared yourself to go and apologise profusely. You’d gone over what to say in your head a million times and nothing sounded good enough but you know the least he deserves is an apology rather than an explanation or excuse right now.
Your face is puffy and red from the crying as you shakily walk up the stairs to your room and find Harry is now laying under the covers with the tv on, watching a movie with a deep frown on his face. As if he’s in deep thought rather than paying attention to the screen.
You push the door open gently and let yourself in. Basically walking with your tail between your legs, you can barely look at him as you sit on the bottom corner of the bed on your side. You couldn’t be further away from him on the bed if you tried.
“Harry, I’m so sorry.” You croak. Lips quivering as you fight the urge to break down crying again. You finally look at him after your first attempt at the beginning of a long apology. He’s ignoring you. Keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed over his chest.
You decide to keep speaking, “I completely understand why you’re angry and I don’t want to give myself any excuses for-.”
He reaches for the remote and turns up the volume to drown out your voice.
You let out a shaky sigh. A tear slipping down your cheek. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose- look, can you please just say something?” You beg pathetically and Harry’s head turns as his eyes look at you with anger.
“Told you I can’t be fucked with this tonight just leave me alone, please.” He sighs in annoyance before completely turning his back to you as he lays on his side.
You really don’t know what to say now. You didn’t expect this reaction from him. He’s never been this angry with you before and it’s terrifying you slightly because you really can’t cope with it. You don’t even care if he shouts at this point, you just want more of a reaction from him.
He has every right to feel the way he does, you know that. You hate going to sleep on bad terms though. You both agreed to always resolve conflicts before getting into bed because you never wanted to be that couple that gets into fights and makes one or the other sleep on the sofa.
It seems like it’s going to be that way tonight though. You don’t want to say another word because you don’t want to make it worse. Even though you know you won’t get much sleep, you decide to go sleep downstairs on the couch. You could go sleep in the spare room but you need a tv to distract you from your racing thoughts so the living room it is.
You get up from the bed, go take a quick shower and change into your pyjamas before grabbing your pillow from your side of the bed and walking towards the door.
“Goodnight, Harry. I love you.” You say to him softly before closing the door behind yourself and making your way downstairs.
You turn on a shitty reality show to fall asleep too. It takes a few hours but eventually you drift off.
The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of the blender rattling off in the kitchen. You feel at peace for a split second as your groggy memory clears up as your consciousness comes back, along with the awful events of last night. You grimace start yourself as you sit up on the couch and turn around to see Harry standing in the kitchen, making himself a smoothie, dressed in his running gear.
It mustn’t be any later than 6am because he only likes going running at the crack of dawn. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet but you know he’s still fuming by the look on his face.
Now that you’re not intoxicated and knowing it’s a new day, you’re determined to resolve this issue very soon. You don’t want to waste any more of the short time you two have together for the next four days being bitter.
You get up from the couch and stretch before walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat on the stool you were sobbing on last night.
“Morning.” You say with a tired voice as Harry still hasn’t acknowledged you whilst he’s cleaning up some dishes. You’re both facing each other on opposite sides of the island.
Harry looks up at you frowning and doesn’t reply so you take it as your queue to go in strong with all guns blazing.
“Can we please talk about this now?” You plead. Harry just deadpans and looks at you with a look that tells you no as he picks up his AirPods and puts them in as he makes his way to the door to go on his run.
“What the actual fuck! This is an actual fucking nightmare.” You frustratingly shout to no one but yourself after Harry closes the door on his way out.
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highvern · 7 months
Text
Secret Games
Pairing: Chwe Vernon x f!reader
Genre: angst, smut, 18+
Warnings: cheating, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, penetrative sex, toxic relationship
Length: 1.7k
Note: i cried writing this. the most toxic piece ive ever written but sometimes fic is the best place to work out issues lmao. originally inspired by girlfriend - avril lavigne but i took it and made it a lot worse. thank you @gyuswhore for being the best beta in the world
read more here
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
Vernon is convinced the entire universe is playing a practical joke on him. It has to be. Vernon would never cheat on his girlfriend, wouldn’t even entertain the idea, and if someone told him a month ago he’d be where he is now, he’d take them to the hospital for a CT scan. 
But a month ago he hadn’t met you, and now Vernon feels like the biggest asshole on the face of the earth.
He loves Olivia. She’s his soulmate, his favorite person, the girl he told his mom was the one since they started dating when he was a junior in college. Four years together and never once did he question if she was the person he wanted to be with.
Until you.
The only person to blame was himself. Getting caught up in the attention of the newest addition to the friend group, failing to ignore longing looks or sideways glances, reacting to your not so subtle touches. It didn’t matter if his girlfriend was sitting in his lap or she was nowhere to be seen, you seemed to zero in on him the moment you entered the room.
From the first night in the smoky club, you had him in the palm of your hand. Dancing on another man while your eyes never left his. Watching him over the mystery man's shoulder, while Olivia pressed her front to his. Pretended the body under his palms belonged to you, the lips pressed to his neck were yours. 
Something passed between you two that night and since then every waking moment of Vernon’s existence revolved around how shitty of a boyfriend he became when put to the test.
But he’d been better lately. Avoiding nights out where you might be lurking, urging his girlfriend to have as many girls’ nights as she wants, hoping she might be slipping the same way he was. But Olivia didn’t look at anyone the way she looked at him. She’d never betray him, never think twice about another man even when they flirt with her out in the open like her boyfriend isn’t sitting right next to her. 
That knowledge only makes the truth harder to swallow. 
The beginning of the end starts in a small hall closet at Soonyoung’s apartment. Everyone came over to celebrate his recent promotion. Several rounds of drinks later, the subject of celebration insisted in a game of hide and seek. There weren't many options to hide almost twenty bodies but alcohol has a way of soothing practical concerns.
Mingyu’s voice boomed through the apartment, jumping into action immediately and sending bodies scurrying for cover. 
Vernon pulled the closet door tight, praying Jun’s attempt to hide behind a lamp and Jeonghan half sticking out from under the couch would buy him enough time to avoid capture.
He could still hear the older man counting when the door opened. A sliver of light cuts across his eyes, casting the body pressing into the space in shadow. For a split second he thinks its his girlfriend, already laughing with childish glee at being so close.
But then Vernon realizes the person pushing in is you.
“Ready or not!”
Vernon tries to move back as far as he can into the wall but the bite of the shelves into his spine prevent more than a few inches of space between you. The door barely manages to click shut in time for footsteps to trample by, Mingyu’s laughter bleeding through the wood. 
In the darkness, Vernon finds a sudden awareness of your body. The roar of blood in his ears does little to drown out the sound of your breathing. Painfully measured breaths that stop every time someone shuffles by on the other side of the door. The heat radiating off your back across the inch of space between your bodies, a ghost of the real thing.
A loud bang makes you both jump, and with the limited space you end up in flat against Vernon’s chest, his arms around your waist to steady you. He knows you can feel his heart pounding. Not from being caught in such a silly game but from the proximity of your ass to his crotch; bodies firmly suctioned against one another. 
He tries not to react when you wiggle against him in an attempt to create more space. Vernon is desperate for you to ignore the hard curve of his pants, rising with each movement, each inhale of your perfume. 
“Vernon?” you call. “I said you're stepping on my foot.”
“Shit, sorry.” 
“Wait, let me just,” you whisper back.
At that moment, all of his defenses crumble. Chest to chest, your breath brushing against his ear, Vernon knows it’s futile to fight what he’s feeling. Your hands skating down his chest confirm it, rocketing his heart into a tailspin. 
He wants you.
And the way you look up at him, with lazy blinks and a drunk smile, tells Vernon you want him too.
A flush makes its way up his neck and he’s thankful for the darkness you're both absorbed in. The thought of all the others beyond the space you two occupy isn’t a blip in his mind. Vernon doesn’t want you to see what an obvious effect you have on him; even if the evidence is digging into the softness of your stomach.
A pass of your lips against his jaw scorches the flesh. Barely a second of contact; simple, chaste. But the imprint will stain his consciousness forever. Each lave of your tongue against the column of his throat forces him deeper into the pits of hell.
The sting of our teeth precedes an airy whine, “Vernon.”
His head drops back at the sound of his name on your tongue again. He wants to taste, to suck the words out of your mouth while his hands force it from your lips over and over again. 
Just as he’s about to, the door knob jiggles.
“Y/N, Vernon! We know you’re in there! We caught everyone else.”
Splitting apart, the warm light from the hall floods the tight space. Stumbling out, Vernon shoulders past you, past his friends, to where Olivia is waiting with a knowing gaze. He can’t look at her. Can’t look at his friends all laughing drunkenly, declaring you the winner 
Despite the look of absolute disappointment Olivia appraises him with, she doesn’t object when his hand circles her wrist and Vernon tugs her through the front door.
Vernon tries to bury what he felt in that closet in his girlfriend’s body. Tries to remember how much he loves her, wants to be with her.
Neither of them seem to be fully present. He can feel it in her body, the way she stiffens under his hands like they freeze her muscles solid. The rasps of Olivia’s half hearted moans churn his stomach, tying knots over and over again until he thinks he might be sick. 
They’ve been knocked off their axis by something, someone. The practiced ease of their bodies is nowhere to be found. She’s a step ahead and he’s a step behind but rather than stop and talk about it like they usually do, they both press forward as if it’s normal.
Who they’re pretending for, Vernon has no idea. Each other? Themselves? All the people who’ve watched their relationship bloom over the years? It doesn’t matter. He can feel years of love turning to dust and he can’t bare to watch.
Thoughts of you break the dam in his mind. How you felt under his hands, your lips against his skin, how you’d taste on his tongue. What sounds you’d make if no one interrupted what was just over the edge in the closet. 
The mirage of you, head thrown back in bliss as you take his cock rockets him to the end. Eyes cinched shut, imagination running rampant. It’s you underneath him, skin sticking to his, nails raking down his spine. It’s the smell of your shampoo still lingering in his nose as he buries his face in Olivia’s neck and loses himself in the motions. 
Vernon doesn’t realize he cums with your name on his lips until Olivia’s sobs reach his ears.
You shudder against the freezing wind, puffs of smoke washing away as soon as they exit your nostrils. A bile of shame and regret burns the back of your throat; something not even the sting of liquor is able to drive away. But that won’t stop you from drinking straight from the bottle you nabbed from Mingyu’s hand before running outside.
Maybe it's the weed or the booze but you’ve never felt so empty. A bitter hollowness, rotting you to the core. Tear tracks stain your cheeks, prickling in the frigid winter air. The cacophony of street noise falls on deaf ears as you replay the events filling you with misery.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Flirting with Vernon had been Olivia’s idea. A friend helping a friend. She wanted to test his loyalty. Begged you to help her assuage her doubts about their relationship. Vernon’s lack of reassurance, her belief that he’d leave her for someone else. All you were supposed to do was smile and make bedroom eyes and see if he’d cave. When that didn’t work, she told you to step it up; looks turned into touches, and flirty comments turned into late night texts where she told you exactly what to say to have him wrapped around his finger. 
And when that didn’t work, she shoved you into the closet with her boyfriend to see what’d take place in the dark, away from prying eyes.
Olivia got what she thought she wanted in the end. A nod from you was all the confirmation she needed as her boyfriend whisked her out the door. 
No one else seemed to pick up the tension trickling out of the closet. They were all so eager to believe that Vernon and Olivia were in love; the type of couple who you aspire to be like, so wrapped up in one another that the thought of them separated made no logical sense. Why would Vernon even consider someone else? The thought he’d do anything to jeopardize such a clandestine pairing wasn’t even a thought in the horizon.
The buzz of your phone knocks you from your stupor. A humorless huff of air sighs through your nose as you silence the fourth call in the last ten minutes. Barely a second for the same name to pop up again.
Incoming call… Vernon Chwe
-
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @ourdawnishotterthanourday
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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buckysgrace · 8 months
Note
first of all i wanted to say ur fics r absolutely amazing!!🥹🥹❤️second i wanted to request a one shot with shy virgin reader and experienced gator & so one day gator comes over to babysit reader & her little siblings bcuz their parents r good friends and gator finds out abt reader and becomes obsessed with corrupting her innocence w smut ,, tysm❤️❤️btw gator is older than her by a few yrs but she’s def older than 18,,,she’s 19 abt to turn 20
First of all thank you so much! I really appreciate that! And your request was so juicy ughhh in love. I hope you enjoy!! CW: Age gap (reader is 19, gator is 27), inexperienced reader, fem receiving oral sex, virginity loss, unprotective sex
“Why the hell do you need a babysitter?” Gator questioned, following you into the kitchen as you began to ruffle through the fridge for snacks for the boys. You knew that your four younger brothers would just protest and complain about the vegetables, but you were only doing what you were told. Your mother had been insistent that they eat something healthy before you ordered pizza. 
“I don’t,” You responded shyly, feeling like your body was buzzing from warmth, “The boys are just- they don’t listen to me very well.” You admitted truthfully. You usually hated when your parents went out. Majority of the time the house would be in a disaster when they returned and you were usually a frazzled puddle of nerves from not being able to keep up with the energy of all of them.
You didn’t know how they managed to do it, but they’d somehow convinced the Tillman’s eldest and only son to stay and help you until they returned. You were almost certain that this was worse than watching them alone. You’d suddenly lost your voice, your ability to think as soon as he’d entered the house. 
Your parents were friends, close enough that you had at least one dinner with them a month but distant enough that you had no idea how to speak to Gator. It didn’t help that he was older, cooler with a charm that left you flustered like you were ten again. Most of your middle school years had persisted of secretly crushing on him.
You faltered as you began to spread peanut butter on the celery sticks, hoping that your mother hadn’t brought that up. You glanced up at him quickly, but quickly calmed your nervous heart as you noticed an almost bored expression on his features. 
“Huh,” Gator leaned against the counter as he watched you, his fingertips linking together, “S’funny because I was told I needed to remind you about shutting off the stove, or something like that.” You felt your eyes widen, your lips parting as you quickly thought of a way to defend your previous mistake. 
“That happened once.” You spit out instead, shaking your head as you stacked the celery sticks on a plate. You felt flustered as you thought of the memory. It had been one accident after the other with the boys, leaving the cookies that had been in the oven long forgotten.
“Are you not in college?” He asked curiously, setting himself on one of the stools as he glanced at the way your brothers had dumped out another box of toys. You did your best not to grumble in frustration, knowing that you would more than likely end up cleaning that mess too. 
“I am,” You replied gently, “I go to the community college. It’s not too far. I like helping out my parents so it works.” You explained gently, knowing that there wouldn’t have been a way for you to afford anything fancy or out of state anyways. He nodded, looking a little interested as he brought a piece of celery up to his mouth.
“That’s sweet of you,” He replied as he continued to munch on a celery stick, “You’ve grown up a lot.” He mused, his eyes suddenly a whole lot more intense as you turned away shyly. You felt your lips curling into a gentle smile, trying to find the means to question him before your younger brothers were suddenly bustling into the kitchen. 
“But I like green!” One of your youngest brothers whined, pouting out his bottom lip as he stared up at you in heartbreak. You sighed as he clutched at your skirt, yanking on it to keep your attention on him. 
“Well switch with whomever has the green cup.” You tried to reason, giving him a brief smile as the volume in the kitchen continued to grow louder and louder. By the time you were finished speaking, you weren’t even sure that he heard you. You watched the way they roughly grabbed the snacks, sighing as peanut butter spread across their little fingers. 
“But I want green.” Your other brother protested, clutching the cup to his chest like it was something special. You sighed, wishing your parents would invest on buying the same colored cups as you began to pass out napkins to your messy brothers. 
“Hey,” Gator spoke up, drawing the four younger boys attention to him, “The same thing is in the cup, it doesn’t matter what color it is. You should tell your sister thanks.” He reminded them, raising his eyebrows swiftly as he spoke. You bit back a giggle, grinning at the way your little brothers turned towards you wide eyed.
“Thanks!” They shouted in unison before they were off again. You shot Gator a thankful smile, finally finding your own courage to meet his eyes. You liked the shape of them, how warm and soft they looked as he breezily returned a smile. 
The pizza didn’t take much longer to arrive and the rush of tiny feet towards you nearly made you drop the boxes onto the floor. Gator was there a second later, grinning as he took them from your hands and held them high over his head where your brothers couldn’t reach. 
You watched the way he set up their plates, his eyes darting as he tried to keep up with who was talking as they told him exactly what they liked and didn’t like. You stifled your own giggle, hoping that someone else realized what a handful they were. 
“You can sit here.” He said casually, his lips curling into a playful grin as he watched the way you were searching for a spot to join them in the living room. You were about to protest, not wanting him to sit on the floor until you realized that he was talking about his lap.
You exhaled, your breath feeling cold against your tongue despite your body warming at his suggestion. You glanced away quickly, stifling another nervous giggle as you nodded your head in agreement. It was silly. He was just being nice, letting you sit somewhere rather than the floor that was littered with legos. 
“Your birthday is soon, right?” He questioned softly, his breath hot against your exposed neck. You nodded your head shyly, suddenly feeling too awkward to eat as you gaze down at your lap instead of at him. 
“I’ll be twenty,” You responded as you pressed your fingertips together, glancing at the way the pink polish was beginning to chip, “I’m excited.” You told him truthfully, liking that you at least got one day out of the year where it could be about you. 
“Your boyfriend doing anything special for you?” His question caught you off guard, making your head snap up to meet his inquiring gaze. You stalled, eyes tracing across his moles and the soft hair above his top lip. You looked at his lips next, liking how pink they were. 
“No,” You giggled softly, unable to fight the nerves that were bubbling in your stomach, “I don’t have a boyfriend.” You told him bashfully, hoping that he didn’t think of you as a complete loser. You just had a hard time talking to guys your age. Or any guy really. 
“A pretty girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?” He teased as his fingers slid across your exposed knee, “How come?” You glanced over to your left, ensuring that your brothers were too busy playing to focus on where Gator’s hand was resting. 
“I don’t know,” You shrugged your shoulders softly, breath hitching as his calloused hand moved further up your bare skin, “I guess no one has been interested in me.” You continued to speak, feeling like you were in some sort of trance. It was hard to look away from his eyes. 
“You’ve never been with anyone?” He spoke a little lower, his voice slightly husky as your eyes dropped back down to his lips. You felt infatuated, unable to tear your gaze away as you watched the way his words rolled off of his tongue. 
“No,” You replied shyly, not sure how to handle the way his fingers were pressing into your skin, “I’m pretty boring.” You admitted a second later, but wondered if you should’ve switched that out with sheltered instead. 
“It’s sweet,” He responded as he drew his finger underneath the hem of your skirt, “It means you’re pure.” He mumbled softly, his eyes peeled to your face to gaze at your reaction. You parted your lips, your body feeling nearly too warm as you simmered on his comment. You shifted on his lap, hoping he couldn’t feel the way you were trying to press your thighs together.
“Oh,” You said as you looked away timidly, “I guess that’s right.” You replied gently, wondering if that made you more appealing to him. You tried to remind yourself that you were grown, that you definitely no longer had a crush on him. It was hard to follow through with those thoughts. You wondered if he knew how pretty he was.
He kept you on his lap the rest of the night, talking softly about his work and who he thought would make it into the superbowl this year. You didn’t know much about sports, but you clung to every word as his hand warmed your skin. It was nearly too hot, like the sketch of his palm would burn through your flesh. 
“It’s bedtime,” You reminded the boys once you finally found the courage to pull yourself away from Gator. You shuffled the leftover pizza into ziploc baggies, sure that at least one of them would get up in the  middle of the night to snack on it, “Go brush your teeth.” You reminded them a second later, giving your best stern look to tell them that you meant business.
The room erupted into a series of groans and complaints, but they slowly rose to do what you asked. They threw away their trash, tossed their cups into the sink before they began to race each other to see who could make it to the top of the stairs first. 
“Hey,” Gator’s loud voice rang into the air, pausing the movements of your younger brothers, “Are you forgetting something?” He asked as he tapped some of his fingers against the back of the couch. You felt like you were stuck again, staring at the way his long fingers moved. 
“We’ll get it later-,” One of them spoke up, trying to brush away the mess that you would inevitably end up cleaning later. 
“No,” Gator replied again, “You can clean it up first and then you can go get ready for bed.” He stated, sterner than you would’ve ever been able to handle. You watched, almost in amazement at the way they listened to him without complaint. 
You gave them fifteen minutes before you went into their rooms, ensuring that each boy was tucked in and actually trying to sleep. You liked having Gator’s presence lingering behind you as it seemed to actually make the boys listen to you. 
“Um,” You breathed out softly as you met him in the hallway again. The lights were dim, but you were still able to make out the slight curl of his lips as he tilted his head to watch you, “Do you want to see my room?” You asked him softly, not quite wanting him to leave yet. You weren’t sure when you’d see him again, or if you’d be able to. 
He looked at you curiously, an expression filling his eyes that you didn’t quite understand. It made you falter for just a second, before you were spurred on by the nod of his head. You moved first, slowly walking around him to the end of the hallway. 
“Cute,” He complimented as he looked around your room, “I like it.” He replied with a grin plastered on his lips. You shut the door gently behind him, not wanting your light to shine into one of your brother’s rooms and keep them up. 
“It’s not too girly?” You asked him softly, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed by the posters you had decorating your walls. Still, it was the only place that you could be on your own. 
“Very,” He said a second later, grinning as he turned his head to look at you, “But it’s very you.” He replied as he licked his bottom lip. You glanced down to your socks, feeling a little giggly that he thought he knew anything about you. 
“Oh,” You replied gently, biting back a smile as you held your fingers together, “Thank you. I really appreciate your help today.” You told him truthfully as you finally found the courage to look at him again. He looked so handsome, you weren’t sure how you were able to look away in the first place. 
“So if you don’t have a boyfriend,” Gator drew out slowly, suddenly making you feel small as he approached you, “Who are you wearing that for?” He hummed softly as he pressed his fingers against your elbows, stepping back just far enough that he could draw his eyes up and down the curve of your body. 
“What do you mean?” You whispered shyly, suddenly embarrassed at the outfit you were wearing. You didn’t think it was bad. It was a pale camisole and a skirt that ended against your thighs. It kept you cool from the warm heat that your brothers stirred up in the house. 
“Kinda short, don’t you think?” He asked you softly, his eyes flickering up towards yours again. You pursed your lips together, jolting a bit at the sensation of his fingertips touching against your soft sides. He drew them down softly, like he was tracing the shape of your body. 
“I thought it fit nicely.” You defended yourself lightly, wondering if he could feel the rough way your heart was beating underneath his skin. You leaned a little closer to him, enjoying how one hand dipped further against the hem of your skirt again. 
“It does,” He agreed as his hand fully slid underneath your skirt this time, “But it makes me wonder if you dressed up for a reason.” He mumbled, making your eyes widen as he played with the band of your panties.
“No.” You responded softly, feeling like your chest was collapsing in on yourself. He looked upon you, eyes flashing with the same expression as earlier as he slid his fingertip underneath your panties. You could feel your clit throbbing, growing wet from the sensation and excitement. You’d explored on your own before, but nothing ever felt right. 
His eyes stayed glued to your features, like he was waiting for you to stop him as he slowly used his free hand to unzip the side of your skirt. You held your breath, feeling frozen on the spot as the material fell to your feet. He looked just as inquisitive before, like he was memorizing the shape of you.
He moved both of his hands to your camisole next, tugging it over your head before he moved onto your bra. You felt like you were in a dream. All of your late night fantasies were coming true. You almost felt like you needed to pinch yourself, just to be sure. 
You moved your hands over to your chest, feeling very bashful suddenly. You’d never had anyone see yourself in this manner before, so exposed. You gulped down your own embarrassment, turning your eyes away so you couldn’t see him. 
“Don’t be shy,” He grinned as he pressed your hands back down to your sides, “You’re stunning.” He mumbled as he pressed his rough hands against your hips. He squeezed your flesh softly, keeping eye contact with you as he slowly fell to his knees.
You felt faint. You were sure you were going to pass out. His eyes were hazy and warm, now filled with what you thought might be lust. It made your thighs press together, your thoughts stalling as all you could do was focus on his movements instead. 
“What are you doing?” You asked him nervously as you pulled your fingers into a nervous fist. Gator’s warm breath tickled against the small amount of skin that was covered. 
“Wanna taste ya,” He mumbled as he slid his warm fingers against your thighs, “It’ll feel good. I promise.” He told you truthfully, raspily as he squeezed at your thighs. He pushed you back suddenly, knocking you onto your mattress with a squeal. 
He moved just as quick, crawling onto the bed and knocking some of your stuffed animals off in the process. Your lips were pressed into a silent laugh, heart hammering against your ribs as he slowly pulled each of your white socks off of your feet. His lips dragged against your right ankle, peppering soft kisses against your skin before he let both of your legs drop onto the mattress.
You quickly tried to press your thighs back together, feeling fully exposed now. He stopped your movements just as quickly, fully exposing you as he rested against the mattress on his stomach. You couldn’t focus on how silly he looked resting against your fuzzy blankets in his dark clothing, your mind only taking in the dark look in his eyes.
He turned away from you slowly, nuzzling his cool nose against your warm thigh before he pressed his pink lips against your upper thighs. You exhaled harshly, a tingle spreading up your body as your nipples suddenly grew hard.
Your body jolted at the feeling of his lips pressing against your sensitive clit. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your body as your head rolled back onto the pillows. You gasped, eyes fluttering as he slowly peppered his lips across your wet folds and clit.
You crooned, holding your hands above your head as Gator took a slow lick of your pussy. He gripped a hold of your thighs, keeping them forced apart as he lapped his tongue against your clit. He rolled his tongue against you languidly, creating more waves of pleasure through your body.
“So sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, his lips dragging against your folds as he spoke. You whimpered, your fingers twitching together at the need to press them through his slicked back hair, “You’ve got a tasty little cunt.” He praised, pulling away this time to look at you. Your eyes turned down in slow motion, looking at the line of drool that connected his lips to your pussy. 
“Okay,” You moaned softly, unsure of how you were supposed to respond to that. He laughed slowly, flicking his tongue across his wet lips before he dipped down between your legs again, “Oh.” You whined slowly, back arching as his lips fell to your wet cunt again.
He kissed at your pussy, lapped at your folds and clit in a sloppy manner that left jolts of pleasure racing up and down your body. You wrinkled your fingers through your pillow case, holding onto it like a lifeline as he moved his tongue against your throbbing hole.
He licked languidly at your hole, tracing his tongue across it before he slid his tongue inside of you. Your mouth parted, a loud moan escaping at the sudden intrusion. It felt good, too good. It made your stomach clench and your toes curl as a bright light filled your eyelids.
“Gator,” You whined, unsure of what you were going to say as he continued to flick his tongue inside of your fluttering hole. He moved one hand away, moving between your legs as he dragged his way back up to your sensitive bud, “S’nice. Right there.” You spit out, grinding your hips up as his tongue flicked languidly against your clit again.
He slid a finger inside of you slowly, meeting the same movement as your hips. You cried out at the intrusion, your walls burning at the slow sensation of him curling his finger inside of you. You could feel your thighs beginning to tremble as you licked the drool from the corner of your lips.
He moved his finger inside of you slowly, allowing you to adjust while he moved his lips messily against your folds. His nose pressed against your clit, smearing your slick around as he sucked on your soft folds.
“Oh, oh,” You mewled in awe, toes curling as a strong sense of pleasure pressed heavily onto your stomach. You slowly felt the walls breaking down, leaving you squirming as Gator held you down tightly with his free hand, “God, oh God!” You cried out, fists clenched tightly into your pillows as you came roughly. 
Gator groaned, his tongue flicked across your pussy rapidly as he tried to lick away the remnants of your cum. You whined, body vibrating from how sensitive you felt. He pulled away slowly, eyes dark and lips covered with your slick before he slowly crawled up the curve of your body. 
He traced his thumb across your lips first, like he was memorizing the shape and curve of them before he moved his slick covered lips against your own. He kissed you slowly, gently as your heart continued to beat against your chest.
He tasted as sweet as the flavored vapes he smoked. You moved your mouth cautiously, trying not to focus on if you were kissing him correctly and instead on the throbbing that was growing between your legs again. Your thighs were still wet, matching the slippery feeling of his lips on yours. 
His tongue slowly prodded against your mouth, parting your lips as he brought one hand up to your boob. He cupped your flesh softly, squeezing in his hand before he pinched at your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, feeling an unbearable amount of pleasure race to your clit again. 
He twisted you onto your side, taking the opportunity to move you as he pleased as your mind was fuzzy with pleasure. He pushed one of your knees up towards your chest as he straddled himself over your other leg that was stretched out. 
“Gator,” You breathed out softly, your chest rising and falling in quick spurts as he dragged his hands along your skin, “S’lot.” You admitted slowly, but didn’t want him to stop either. You watched with interest as he quickly shedded his clothes, barely giving you time to look at him.
You drank in as much as you could, from his broad shoulders to his muscular arms. You stared at his chest hair, noticing how it followed a simple line down to the rest of his body. 
“It’s okay,” He mumbled softly, leaning forward to drag his lips against yours slowly. You melted against his touch, your body shivering underneath his touch, “I’ll go slow.” He promised, settling back just a bit as he wrapped his long fingers around his cock.
You sat up a bit, eyes curious as you looked at the way he fit in his hand. A shaky gasp rolled off his tongue as you took in how long, how thick he was. You’d never had something that big inside of you before.
You felt odd speaking it out loud, but you thought his cock was pretty. His tip was a nice pink, precum leaking from his slit as he slowly jerked his hand up and down the length of his cock. Your eyes quickly drifted over his veins, the way his cock curved and the soft amount of hair it rested upon. 
“Just relax,” He mumbled, glancing up to you as he dragged his tip between your folds. You nodded your head, your mind feeling fuzzy as you fell back onto the pillows. You took a deep breath, soothing away your nerves as he slowly pressed his tip inside of your fluttering cunt, “S’alright.” 
Your eyebrows knitted together at the intrusion, your lungs stalling as you’d never felt so filled before. It wasn’t quite as painful as you imagined it would be. Your walls fluttered around his cock, stretching in a subtle burn as he filled you. 
“Oh,” You sighed softly, unsure if it was a gasp of pain or of pleasure, “Burns.” You managed at last, feeling like your lungs weren’t working. A soft groan left his lips as he leaned forward, his forehead fell onto yours as he reached between your legs.
“You’re doing so good,” He praised you softly, his lips kissing against the corner of your mouth as his thumb pressed against your sensitive bud. He rolled his thumb softly, pressing down on it gently as a spark of pleasure traveled up your spine, “You’re taking my cock so good, such a good little whore.”
You shivered underneath his touch, from his words as white hot pleasure traveled up your spine and down to your toes. His body felt too hot against your skin, his breathing coming out rugged against your cheek. You tilted your mouth up towards his, capturing your lips together in a sloppy motion.
He rubbed at your sensitive clit, making your body jerk as he filled his cock deep inside of you. You gasped against his lips, his tongue flicking over your mouth as your walls clenched around him. He groaned softly as he pressed down on your clit a little harder, making you cry out and your body jerk.
“Fuck,” He cursed as he pulled his head away from yours, his mouth parted in bliss as he stared at where your bodies were connected. You whimpered a little, your eyes fluttering at the way his cock was throbbing inside of your sore walls, “So pretty. You’re doing so good.” He reassured you again as he pressed his lips against the curve of your cheek. 
You focused on the way his lips moved against your hot skin, how he peppered kisses and slowly licked his saliva away with his tongue. You pressed your hand against his sweaty back, keeping him in place as you adjusted around his thick girth. 
“Feels good,” You whimpered, your hands mindlessly wandering down his spine on their own as you savored the curve of his cock pressing against the spot that made your eyes roll in the back of your head, “Oh God.” Gator groaned, his fingertips digging deep into your flesh as he pushed your leg further against your chest.
“Jesus,” He groaned as his tongue fell against his bottom lip, his eyes hooded as he stared down at where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt, “You’re such a good little whore, taking my cock so well.” He grunted, shifting back just enough that only the head of his cock remained in you. You whimpered, sure that he was going to pull away before he filled you in a rough motion again.
You crooned at the feeling of being filled again so suddenly, your walls sore as you clamped down around his throbbing cock. Your clit was vibrating as loud moans rolled off of your tongue, bouncing off of the walls of your room. 
“Right there,” You begged him, your eyes fluttering in awe as you felt the tip of his cock pressing against your bundle of nerves. It made you gasp, your body stalling underneath him as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your wet walls, “Oh God, please, please.” You begged him, unsure of what you were asking but knowing that you didn’t want him to stop. 
“Are you my whore?” He asked huskily against your ear, flicking his tongue out against your earlobe. You whined at the sensation, your body shivering underneath him as he pressed his sweaty body closer against yours. His flesh melted against your own, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. 
“Yes,” You cried out, not caring if you were signing your life away. You just didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want him to pull out of you. You liked the feeling of your bodies connected, of his cock throbbing inside of your wet walls, “I’m your whore.” A whine stalled in your chest, stalling as Gator crashed his lips against yours again. His thrusts were deep and rough, jerking your body roughly across the mattress as he moved. 
He kissed you harshly, stealing the air from your lungs as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your fluttering walls. You clamped down around him, your pussy squelching at his rough movements. You cried out against his mouth, quickly licking away his drool from his parted mouth. 
Your body shook, stomach clenching again as you came around his cock. You mewled, your head falling roughly into your pillows as you clung a hold of his wrist for dear life. You could feel yourself spasming, your ears ringing as you moaned into your pillow.
He groaned, his chin falling into the crook of your shoulder as his thrusts became rougher and faster. He huffed, his movements stalling as he pressed himself deep inside of you. The sound that left his mouth made your stomach curl again, your pussy clench as his spunk painted your walls.
He fell forward, groaning as his hair slowly fell to the side of his face. You breathed in the scent of him, eyes blinking as you wished to get a better look at him. You whimpered as he slowly moved, shifting his pulsing cock inside of you as he pressed his lips against yours in a sweet peck.
You melted, sure that you were slipping into the mattress as he grazed his lips against your own for just a fleeting second. He pulled away then, smiling gently as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. You faltered, wishing you had something to say before he sat up on his knees and slowly pulled his cock from your cunt.
You whimpered at the loss, wishing that he’d stay inside of you the rest of the night. Your heart began to beat slowly, nearly defeated as you watched him stand. Your eyes drifted across his back, moving quickly as you drew in the constellations across his back. You wanted to move forward, to use your fingers to count and trace the moles on his skin.
You were quiet as he rummaged for his pants, sure that he was about to leave without another word before he joined you in your bed again. You stifled a sound of surprise, watching as he took a deep inhale from his vape. He offered it to you next, but you quickly shook your head. You weren’t supposed to smoke. 
“Can we do this again?” You asked him bashfully, your tongue twisting awkwardly in your mouth at how nervous you felt. He chuckled as he turned towards you, wrapping his lips around his vape once again. 
“‘Course,” He breathed out, a cloud of smoke tickling your nose as he spoke, “I gotta teach you all the ropes.” He mumbled, pulling his vape down just enough to kiss away your worries. 
318 notes · View notes
sunsetkerr · 7 months
Text
MRS ARNOLD | m. arnold
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summary: headcanons of what is was like to being mrs arnold.
pairing: fem!reader x mackenzie arnold
notes: my very first piece that isn't sam???????? what???? this was a request, and I've decided that on occasion I will accept requests for other players, see my masterlist so you know who to request for!! If they aren't there, I most likely won't write for them, but there is never ever any harm in asking. if you have anymore questions/thoughts about mrs arnold, send them in so we can chat about her!! lots of love!!
you had been around football your entire life
your dad was a trainer for west ham’s womens team
you grew up a die-hard west ham fan
you played as a kid and a teenager
but as you got older you decided to head onto a different path
you studied audiology once you graduated high school 
focused on your studies and graduated as one of the top students in your degree
your family was so proud of you
of course you still watched football once you stopped playing
you never missed a match (and your dad would never let you)
 in 2023, you were at the height of your career, heading into owning your own clinic
you were loving your job
so when your dad asked you to come in and take a look at one of his players, you were surprised
but of course, you weren’t one to ever say no to him
you arrived at chadwell heath and received a great reception
everyone there knew you as your dad’s daughter
they loved having you around
you walked into your dads office not thinking about it
when you were met with mackenzie
you hadn’t officially met her before
but up close, wow, she was even more breathtaking than in goal
as you went to apologise for barging in on her, your dad came in
he introduced mackenzie to you and explained why he had brought you in
she had suspected that she was suffering from hearing loss
you tried your best to tread lightly on the topic as it was a relatively new concept to her
she was familiar with hearing loss
her brother had worn hearing aids since he was young
but she had never considered needing them herself
you said that you could book her in for an audiology test and have a look
you ended up diagnosing her later that week
mackenzie was so grateful for you
for such a hard experience, you sure made it easy
she was in awe of you and how smart you were
she marvelled at your mind
you were just so intelligent
she couldn’t help herself
you stayed close after fitting her for her hearing aids
you would be in the change room at half-time at west ham home games
you were technically working as a ‘personal player consultant’ on the medical team
(thanks dad)
but really, you just wanted to be near mackenzie
she was starting to excel even more in her game (if that was possible)
and she always chalked it up to you
‘well since y/n fitted my hearing aids’
‘y/n did the most really’
‘she’s just so smart, without her i’d be struggling still’
mackenzie gloated about you 24/7 to anyone who would listen
she ended up asking you on a date after four months of officially knowing each other
she found herself at your clinic way too often 
there was only so many times mackenzie could lie about a faulty battery
so when you mentioned how many times she had come in
she was a blushing mess, but managed to murmur out
‘would you want to get dinner tonight?’
you said yes right away
you had only been waiting four months for her to ask
she asked you to be her girlfriend on your fourth time out together
(after getting a very big hint from your dad that you were waiting)
‘already made her wait for that date, macca. wouldn’t want to keep her waiting much longer’
she called you after that conversation and said she was taking you out that night
you couldn’t really ask for more with mackenzie
she was everything you wanted in a person
and now you get to watch west ham matches from the player suites
not just the friends and family section 
243 notes · View notes
imagines--galore · 7 months
Text
||The Thread of Fate|| Part Eleven
Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.
Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)
Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.
Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten,
A/N: Omg I had such a HUGE influx of readers for this story, and I am grateful to each and every one of you for reading my story! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and all the others I will be writing in the future.
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Working at the tea shop was Orora's first time at a job. She was just as green to it as Zuko was. However, she did not voice her disgust at the notion every few seconds. She was eager to learn, and ready to earn her living. As much as she appreciated the money Iroh had given her, she wanted to contribute to their financial situation as well.
The first day had been busy. There had been the different types of teas she had to learn to brew, other then the ones she already knew thanks to her Master. Then there were dishes to wash almost constantly. Not a lot of customers had come in that day, Pao having closed the shop early to allow his new employees to get to know their work place, so it hadn't been as tiring as she had thought it would be.
What Orora found she liked to do, was wash the dishes. She got to play with water and bubbles, and it helped calm her. Strange, she knew, but after so many days of being on the run, doing something as simple as washing dishes was oddly calming. Not to mention the job allowed her mind to roam and ponder over things she had not allowed herself to for quite some time now.
As she set aside one of the more expensive looking cups, the young waterbender sighed softly through her nose.
So far the truce she had offered Zuko seemed to be working. Though it had only been a few hours since it had been put into effect. And they'd only managed to snap at each other twice. True after the second time Iroh had seen the wisdom in separating them by giving them jobs to do at different ends of the shop. Zuko worked the front, taking orders and such, while Orora washed the dishes in the back.
Picking up a plate and dunking it in the soapy water, Orora continued to let her thoughts wander and ask the questions she wished she could say out loud.
Such as why were Zuko and Iroh fugitives of the Fire Nation? They were royalty, surely the Fire Lord would want his brother and son back. And did Zuko's sister truly want to kill her own Uncle? That thought sent a shiver down her spine. But what about their mother? Didn't she have a say in all of this? Was she treated just like Orora's mother was treated?
She had so many questions, and more, and all she wanted to do was march right up to Zuko and demand that he answer them.
But something held her back.
Maybe because she was a polite person who didn't go about poking her nose in other people's business.
Or perhaps, more likely, she had no desire to cause Zuko any pain by talking about his past. It was surely a sore subject, from the bits and pieces of information she had collected over the months. Besides, he already had his hands full trying to adjust to living in Ba Sing Se. Orora just wished he would figure himself out faster so she could ask all her questions.
Oh, she could ask Iroh if she wanted to, and her would probably answer, but for some insane reason, she wanted the answers to come from Zuko himself.
Spirit help her but she felt it was the right thing since it was his story.
Memories of every encounter she had ever had with the young prince rose unbidden, yet not unwelcome in her mind, as she started to play with the water not having any more dishes to wash.
It was strange, how someone she had not even known a few months ago was now at the very center of her life. He wasn't all that she thought about, really this was the first time she was allowing herself to think of him to such an extent. Usually she had other things to think about. Such as surviving, learning from her Master, perfecting her water bending techniques, inventing new ways to incorporate ice into her fighting, improving on her combat skills, restocking her medicinal herbs, making sure she didn't loose touch with her healing side, because as much as she liked to put her waterbending skills to use by fighting, she knew healing was a major part of who she was.
All those thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind, as she focused on a pair of golden eyes that seemed to watch her wherever she went, watching her every step. At first she had thought, it was perhaps because he didn't trust her. But slowly, that mistrust in his eyes had faded. Now, when she would catch him looking at her, he would look away.
Then again, who was she to complain. She looked at him and had been caught looking at him by him on multiple occasion.
Her fingers continued to twirl, her gaze listless as she created pretty patterns in the water.
She thought of the night when they had first met, officially at least. When he had tried to rob her. She could still recall every detail with a clarity that surprised even her.
She contemplated on their little sparring session and the conversation after it, how she had encouraged him to find something to live for, to fight for.
She recalled how shocked she had been when she realized his true identity. A prince. An honest to goodness prince. One who couldn't stand her, and who she couldn't stand either.
At least, she thought that was the case.
Her mind conjured the moment where she had first touched his scar. How vulnerable he had looked, and yet he had trusted her enough to not push her away. The way he had protected her when they were at the Oasis. The conversation they had shared while bathing. That one brought a fierce blush to her cheeks. And despite her best effort to move on to the next one, she found the blush only intensifying as she remembered the moment they had shared on the mountain.
Where they had acknowledged that they were soulmates. Where he had gripped her wrist, so desperately and yet so soft. Where she had wandered how his lips would feel against her own. And she was sure he had been thinking the same.
After all, hadn't he leaned forward slightly before the elements of nature had tread on their moment?
So lost in her thoughts, that she didn't even sense as someone else entered her work area and stood next to her. Watching her.
"Uncle says its time to go now."
The voice jolted her out of her thoughts, scaring her so much that she jumped where she stood. Her bending reacted out of instinct, mirroring her startled emotion as her hand shot a splash of water on the figure standing next to her.
"Spirits! You startled me!" She panted, resting a hand above her heart. Zuko glowered at her in return, water dripping from his hair and onto his shoulders. The girl winced, pursing her lips to hide a smile, though it still escaped. She couldn't help it, he just looked utterly ridiculous.
At his warning growl, she couldn't help but giggle. A strange sound since it hardly ever came from her. "Sorry, here." Quickly bending the water, she threw it back into the sink and gave him an apologetic smile. His glare did not let up.
"We're done here for the day. Lets go." He grumbled, before making for the door. She rolled her eyes. Clearly he wasn't too pleased with her little reaction. As he stomped off, she called after him, removing her apron as she went. "I said I was sorry!"
                                          ————————–
Their new home was a small apartment, just big enough for the three of them. As soon as they returned, Orora quickly settled in the middle of the room, wanting to get in an hour of meditation before bed. She crossed her legs, closed her eyes, folded her hands in her lap and evened out her breathing.
Which left Iroh to brew some more tea for them, and for Zuko to lay on the sofa, hands tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind going over the day's event.
A job. For once in his life, he was actually working for a living. The notion had seemed strange at first, not to mention he had felt that it was beneath him, but what Orora had said was true. They did need jobs if they were to survive in this city.
Reluctantly, his gaze flickered to the water tribe girl as she sat meditating peacefully, oblivious to the effect she had had on him.
Him. Prince of the Fire Nation. Being effected by the words of a commoner.
Or rather, he was being effected by the words of a girl who was his soulmate.
Letting out a silent groan, his hand came up to press the back of his hand against his eyes, as if to physically stop him from staring too long at her. It was starting to get pathetic, just how much he would want her opinion on things.
He wouldn't go so far as to say he wanted her to approve of him, but it was pleasant to have someone else beside his Uncle give him a little wisdom. He spoke of life in riddles and words that were heavy with emotion.
Orora?
She would give it straight to his face. No regard of his feelings, his stand on whatever topic it was. She would just come out and say it.
And he appreciated her for that.
True he never always liked what she said, but sometimes they were the exact words he needed to hear.
Like the talk they had had after their impromptu battle near that lake. He still hadn't found something to live for, or to fight for, but at least he knew that he was looking for something.
Not to mention the fact that he would be ever grateful to her for saving Uncle's life. He would never say it outright, but in that moment he had been so so scared and she had stepped up and healed Iroh. Even after getting to know who they were and the lies she had been led to believe for so long.
And how she had probably saved him that stormy night on the mountain. A moment of weakness on his part, letting his emotions get the best of him, but she'd been there. She'd been where he needed her to be, and had not held back when telling him off for being so reckless.
He had to stop his thoughts there, not wanting to dwell too much on what would've happened if that moment in the rain had gone on any longer.
And then there was the truce. To live together somewhat harmoniously.
Lifting his hand, he looked at her again, watching her face. She looked so calm in that moment, as opposed to the plethora of emotions that always played about her features. Zuko found he was beginning to think of it as a game. A game where he would try to guess what she would feel next, and whether it would effect him in some way.
So far, almost every emotion she felt was directed at him, and though he would never ever admit it out loud, he kind of liked having her attention be on him rather then anything else.
Huffing to himself, as if disgusted with his own thoughts, he rose to his feet, moving to the pantry to see what he could have for dinner.
                                          ————————–
"Orora, my dear." Glancing up from where she had been counting the money of the customer who had just paid, the young waterbender gave Iroh a nod. "Yes Master?"
"We seem to have run out of Jasmine. I have asked Pao and he says to take some money from the till and buy some Jasmine tea from the shop just down the street."
Taking the money, Orora quickly nodded, before rushing to the back of the shop where Zuko was on dish washing duty. Seeing her taking off her apron, he frowned. "Where're you going?"
Straightening her clothes, the girl replied. "Ran out of Jasmine, just going to buy some." She had barely made it to the door when Zuko called out. "Wait, I'm supposed to go with you when you go out into the city."
Orora glanced over her shoulder, rolling her eyes slightly. "Relax Your Highness. Its only a five minute walk, nothing is going to happen to me." She opened the door, moving to step outside, but then she paused.
"Although, it is sweet of you to worry about me." She glanced over at him, a smile on her lips as she caught sight of the obvious flush on his cheeks as he looked at anything but her. "I'll be back soon." She said as a way of promise, before she was out of the tea shop.
It was a five minute walk, and once the goods were secured, the girl began to make her way back to the shop, her heart still warm at the prospect of Zuko actually worrying about her.
Her happy thoughts, however, were interrupted rather rudely when a hard hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her into a dark alley, covering her mouth with a rough hand.
The instant she felt the unfamiliar hands, she began to struggle and push with all her strength, trying to get away.
"Stop moving!" A voice hissed, a very familiar voice.
Her eyes focused in the dark, and she was able to make out the face of the boy they had met on the way to Ba Sing Se.
The Freedom Fighter, Jet.
Her pale blue eyes narrowed, and a look akin to a cold anger burned in the gaze she fixed him with. "Look I just want to talk, that's all." He said, still not letting up from where he had his hand on her mouth.
She continued to glare at him, even after he had removed his hand, though his other kept an almost painful grip on her wrist. "I'm trying to help you. You're a waterbender, there's no way you would be with those firebenders of your own free will, so they must be keeping you prisoner somehow."
He knows, a voice hissed in her mind, prompting her heart to beat faster in her chest, and an ugly feeling of fear to coil in her stomach. But she didn't let it show.
Instead, she remained the epitome of disgust and anger. "What in the world are you talking about?"
There seemed to be an almost manic look in his eyes, accompanied by impatience, as he dropped her hand, and grabbed her shoulders. "You don't have to lie for them. I'm trying to help you. I just need evidence and then we can end those two firebenders."
End?! Spirits! He wanted to kill Iroh and Zuko.
Shrugging out of his grasp, Orora stepped away, fingers pulling the cork of her water satchel in case she needed to defend herself. "You're out of your mind." She growled at him. Despite the terror she felt at hearing his statement, her instinct to protect her two companions was far potent, which was the reason she was even able to face the boy with murder in his eyes.
"Just admit the truth! They're firebenders! And they deserve to die." He was starting to get frustrated with her. "I don't care what you say, I will find some way to expose them, and when I do, I'll have the pleasure of executing them."
Hearing those words, hearing the tone in his voice, the sheer hatred and anger in his eyes. Something in her snapped.
With a fierce cry she threw her arm out, the movement elegant yet deadly, given that Jet found himself staring at the very sharp ends of multiple icicles that she pointed in his direction.
"This is your first and last warning." She hissed, her voice full of warning. "If you come near them, if you so much as harm a single hair on their head, I will personally see to it that you pay for it." She fixed him with a cold stare. "In blood."
So saying, she turned her back to him, leaving him trapped behind her icicles. They would melt soon enough, though the words Jet called after her as she walked away, echoed in her ears all the way back to the tea shop.
"You would threaten someone who's on your side. You're willing to protect the enemy?! You're a traitor to your own people. A disgrace! You're just like them! A killer!"
                                          ————————–
As soon as she reached the back door of the tea shop, Orora leaned up against the wooden door. Her heart was beating so fast, she was afraid it would somehow burst out of her chest. A stinging sensation behind her eyes told her she was close to tears. Lifting a trembling hand, she pressed it to face, willing herself to calm down.
She had to warn Zuko and Iroh, make sure they were on guard. She couldn't let anything happen to them. They were her friends. She cared about them. Both of them.
Somehow, she managed to calm herself down, slightly, and entered the shop. It had taken her a good fifteen minute to calm down. Grabbing her apron, she tied it behind her in a haphazard manner before rushing out to the front of the shop.
There was Iroh, pouring tea for a customer, with Zuko picking up cups left behind by a previous customer. She all but stumbled forward, catching Zuko's hand, prompting him to look at her, confused and slightly alarmed at her obvious panicked state.
"Orora? Wha-"
But she didn't let him finish. "He knows." She whispered, aware of the other customers around her. "Jet knows." The words were spoken so softly that no one else could ever hear them, and yet Zuko did. Loud and clear.
However, before either of them could talk further on what she had revealed, the door of the shop slammed open and Jet himself walked in. A strangled gasp left her lips, as she caught sight of that murderous look in his eyes once more.
"I'm tired of waiting!" He pointed an accusing finger at both Iroh and Zuko. "These two men are firebenders! And that girl is helping them. She's a traitor!"
Immediately, Zuko pushed Orora behind him, gripping one of her hands to make sure she stayed there. Uncle and nephew exchanged a look which seemed to mirror what the other was thinking.
Play dumb.
"I know they're firebenders, I saw the old man heating his tea!" Jet continued, advancing towards the trio with his hooked swords out of their sheaths. "He works in a tea shop." A nearby customer stated in a rather confused voice, but Jet wasn't having it. "He's a firebender! I'm telling you!"
The same customer stood. "Drop your swords, boy. Nice and easy." Jet ignored him, his gaze never leaving Zuko's as he began to advance towards him and Orora. "You'll have to defend yourself. Then everyone will know. Go ahead, show them what you can do." His gaze flickered to Orora who, previous fear forgotten to be replaced by a burning anger, glared back at him. "Or would you rather have your girlfriend get hurt defending you."
She felt his grip on her hand tighten to an almost painful level. "Zuko, no! He's goading you!" She whispered, even as the previous customer moved to step forward, ready to unsheathe his sword. Zuko simply glanced at her. Her heart dropped to her stomach. She knew exactly what he was about to do.
And sure enough he stepped forward and grabbed the swords the customer had been about to withdraw. "You want a show?" He growled. "I'll give you a show!'
He pulled a table in front of him with his foot and kicked it at Jet, who was quick to slice the table with his swords and jumped over it. As he landed, he swung both hook swords at the Fire Nation prince, who deflected the attack and jumped backward onto another table. Which was again sliced in half by Jet, with a mighty swing of one sword through the middle of the table.
Somehow Zuko managed to balance on one half of the table, on one foot! Jet was unrelenting as he continued his frenzied attack by cutting the legs off the table. Zuko was quick on his feet as he jumped up. As he landed, he swung both broadswords at Jet's feet, but he somersaulted away and landed in a crouching position before charging forward. Zuko swung both of his swords at Jet.
Both weapons clashed as both fighters tried to best the other, glaring at each other as they did.
"Enough!"
Orora's scream cut through the air as she used her waterbending to push the two fighters apart. She moved to stand in front of Zuko, multiple ice knives nestled between her fingers as she stared down Jet. "We are not your enemies! Stop acting like a complete lunatic!" Zuko growled behind her. "Orora, stay out of this!" Jet's grip on his swords only tightened. "I will not listen to anyone who betrays their own people to help firebenders."
He took a running start, prompting Orora to drop in her stance to defend herself, however her plan of action went out the window when Zuko pushed her to the side. So forcefully that she fell to the ground with a loud thud.
Jet threw his leg out, catching Zuko in the chest and watching as he went flying through the air, smashing through the doors of the tea shop and out into the street. As the rest of the patrons rushed out to see what would happen next, Iroh quickly helped Orora to stand up.
"Are you alright my dear?" He asked, checking her over for injuries. She gave a quick nod, before stumbling to the door of the shop, Iroh following behind.
Outside the battle continued to rage between the two teenagers.
"Please, son, you're confused! You don't know what you're doing!" Even he was getting worried that Zuko would snap and use his firebending. Orora began to pray silently to the Moon Spirit, hoping her pleas would be heard and that Zuko wouldn't get hurt or reveal his true identity. The people would surely kill Zuko and Iroh, if they knew who they really were.
"Bet you wish he'd help you out with a little fire blast right now." As Jet swung at Zuko's feet, Zuko stabbed one of his broadswords through the hilt of his sword, pinning it to the ground. Jet looked annoyed at loosing his weapon, before focusing back on Zuko. "You're the one who needs help." Zuko responded. Leaving the sword embedded in the floor, they shifted to combating with a single sword each. Jet turned in a circle, trying to swipe at Zuko once again, but Zuko quickly advanced and swung his sword at Jet.
The Freedom Fighter quickly bent backward to avoid the blade, though it did manage to cut the straw sticking out of his mouth in half. Regaining his balance, Jet jumped backward onto the edge of a well. "You see that‌?!" He called out to the gathered crowd. "The Fire Nation is trying to silence me. It'll never happen." He attacked once more, hooking his sword to the top of the well and sending a flying kick towards Zuko.
Zuko growled as he dodged the kick and swung his sword at Jet once again. He moved to the side, and suddenly they were back-to-back, trying to land a hit, but neither could get past the other's defense.
Just then two newcomers entered the crowd. And from their uniforms, they looked to be of an official status. "Drop your weapons." One of them commanded. The two fighters stepped away and faced each other. Though Zuko lowered his sword, Jet pointed his weapon at Zuko, Iroh and Orora.
"Arrest them! They're firebenders!" Iroh stepped forward, throwing his arms out. "This poor boy is confused. We're just simple refugees." Pao, wanting to defend his employees joined in as he pointed to Jet. "This young man wrecked my tea shop, and assaulted my employees!" The customer from whom Zuko had borrowed the swords stepped forward. "It's true, sir. We saw the whole thing. This crazy kid attacked the finest tea maker in the city." Iroh blushed at the compliment. "Oh, ho, ho. That's very sweet."
Knowing it would be like adding wood to the fire, Orora stepped forward. "And he attacked me and threatened to hurt my Master and his nephew." She walked towards the two men, hand exposed to the wrist where he had grabbed her earlier. Sure enough the bruise from his grip was already beginning to change the color of her skin. The sight of it had Zuko nearly swinging his sword once again, but Iroh placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
It would seem the two had heard enough. As Jet continued his tirade of firebenders and Fire Nation, he was escorted to a cart where he was put in the metal cell and taken away.
Orora watched him go, unaware of the crowd as it dispersed around them.
"Orora?" At Iroh's voice, she turned around, still a little spooked with what had just happened. Or rather what could've happened. "Why don't you and Li go home. I'll help Pao clean up and meet you there."
As if she had no control over her actions, Orora took off her apron and handed it to Iroh, who gave her a sympathetic smile. "Do see that my nephew wasn't too hurt from the kick, my dear." The concern was evident in his gaze, as was the guilt in her own as she glanced at Zuko who was returning the sword to it's rightful owner.
Giving him a small nod, she waited for Zuko to walk past her, before following after him towards their shared home.
                                          ————————–
Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist
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seungrem · 7 months
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Huening Kai x m!reader
‘Finishing What We Started’ ~*+
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summary: After male!reader gets promoted to work for an idol group, he catches a particular boy’s eye. As no-one seems to suspect the two, they spend some time alone while on a retreat.
( idol!kai x intern!reader, smut kinda, top!kai x bttm!reader, mutual feelings )
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emoji code:
🧸 ( lil bit of fluff )
🌱 ( oneshot / short story - around 4.5k words )
❄️ ( smut, +18, minors DNI )
☁️ ( stands for y/n )
likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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A long breath emitted from the mouth of a young man. Holding a small stack of tan files, he looked himself up and down in front of an office of frosted windows. His gray dress pants were neat, his sneakers pristine, and his white button-up complimented his gray ‘B.H.’ vest nicely. After deeming himself ready to enter, he took a step forward and used his free hand to knock, him then pushing his boss’s door open.
“Ah, ☁️. Right on time, per usual.” The boss stood up and greeted ☁️, who greeted back and very carefully placed the small stack of files onto the boss’s desk.
“Hello sir, this was requested yesterday. I thought I would take care of it for you.”
As the boss sat down in his gray suit, ☁️ stepped back to stand between two very nice chairs with green cushions. The office was somewhat large with dark blue carpeting, glass walls, and many desks that held achievements and framed papers.
“I admire how hard you work, ☁️. And because of that, I have a gift for you.”
The boss smiled and pulled a tan file from under his dark brown desk, pieces of paper inside of it. The boss took the papers out and turned the top one around to face ☁️. The boy leaned in to read it.
‘Personal assistant? For a boy group? .. This was supposed to be a gift?’
“I’m sorry sir, I don’t quite understand.. You want me to be a personal assistant?” ☁️ frowned at the sight of the paper, him looking back up to his boss.
“Oh don’t give me that look, this is a great opportunity for you! This is a relatively new group, and they have been climbing the charts for the past year and a half. It’ll be great for you! I promise.”
“Well.. are you going to find a new intern then?” ☁️ felt as though he was being demoted. Who would want to be a personal assistant?”
“I don’t think so, with your help our department has been ahead of schedule and paperwork. If I ever need you back here with me, I’ll just call you over.”
“Do I have an option?”
“☁️, you’re going to be getting paid well! You’ll be making more than some of the people working in this office.” The boss held the weight of his chin on the back of his right hand, as if he was thinking hard.
“Here, I’ll give you a deal. If you last a week helping this boy group, and still don’t like it by then, I’ll talk to our department ‘heads about a different promotion opportunity. The last personal assistant for this group got promoted too quickly, which made things hard for the group’s current staff.. though, now she works alongside me.”
☁️ nodded in understanding- the boss’s tangent was slightly convincing. He liked the idea of going from an overworked, unpaid intern, to a simple assistant who got paid well. Seemed easy enough.
“I understand, I think that I’ll take your deal. Thank you for.. this opportunity.” ☁️ smiled awkwardly.
“Great! I’m so happy that you’re agreeing to this, ☁️. You’re going to do so well, and not only for yourself. You’ll be of tremendous help to this group and their manager. I know it.”
The boss put the papers back into the tan file and handed it to ☁️. Unsure that he made the right decision, ☁️ thanked his boss and placed the file under his arm.
“I expect great things! I’ll see you soon, take care.” The boss nodded his head and ☁️ said his goodbyes. Taking his leave, he wondered how a personal assistant would be so significant in this group’s success. Slowly closing the glass door, ☁️ walked toward the elevator. After working for four months as an intern, he was now “promoted” to a personal assistant. At least now he’d be earning a salary.
After taking the elevator down to the ground floor, he stepped out into the majestic lobby and walked to the reception desk. With floors and walls of marble, there was lots of tapping from people going about their business. Walking toward a large, dark brown desk., he waved to farthest left secretary. She was a tall young woman with dark black hair, a person who had quickly befriended ☁️ during his first few days as an intern. The two spoke often, but ☁️ would always forget her name.
After chatting for a few minutes about ☁️’s meeting with the boss, the secretary became ecstatic.
“You should be happy, you’re spending time around a big idol group! That’s great!”
“Yes, I hope I’ll grow to like it. Do you end your shift soon?” ☁️ looked around to make sure there was nobody waiting in line to speak to his friend.
“I do, would you like me to check you out of work for the day? I was going to do the same in a moment.”
“That would be great, thank you! I’ll hopefully see you soon.” ☁️ took a step away from the counter he was leaning on.
“Of course, see you later.” The secretary smiled brightly and the two waved to each other.
☁️ approached the large, glass doors as beautiful oranges and pinks faded into each other over the sky. He stepped out into the city engulfed in warm tones, bustling streets ahead of him.
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“You do know you’re an hour and a half early , right?”
☁️ stepped onto the stone staircase of a large cottage, located in the middle of the countryside. A large, wooden fence overgrown with pink flowers and tall grass surrounded the property. ☁️ looked around at the bight yellow sky, the sunrise illuminating birds and pink clouds. Turning around, ☁️ clutched his small bag and began up the stairs. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light inside the stone house.
A man in all black, including a black mask and hat, stood in front of the doorframe. He took off his hat and placed a hand on the door.
“Hello, yes, I know I’m early. I figured it would be best to come at this time.” Behind the man in black he saw other people in black running around. Many were carrying things such as equipment, dishes of sorts, and cloth materials.
“You figured correctly. I’m the staff director here and it’s a pleasure to have you join us.” He led ☁️ through the small building, the two dodging other staff members setting up skinny poles and cameras. “I heard many things about you, so i’m glad to have you join us.”
☁️ mentally rolled his eyes at the comment.
“It’s a pleasure.” The boy said as the two stopped at a table in what seemed like a dining room. The table had even more equipment scattered over it. The director called a name out and two women turned their attention from the table to the director and ☁️. The director introduced the two to him. The morning quickly began with many introductions, though ☁️ only could recall about half of them.
After a half hour of introductions and explanations, the director sat ☁️ down at the small dining room table. He explained that there wasn’t much that he needed ☁️ to do other than provide personal assistance to the idol group. Thus, the director instructed ☁️ to simply wait outside for a black van.
With a sigh, Cat sat on a small ledge of the house, waiting for what he assumed to be the arrival of the group. The sky was now clear and bright blue, the sounds of leaves and tall grass rustling filling the silence. After a few minutes, a large black van pulled into the dirt road. ☁️ watched from the steps as two older men dragged suitcases out of the vehicle, five younger men climbing out and stretching. Unsure of what to do, ☁️ walked over to the two older men.
“Hello, I’m the personal assistant for the group. Did you need help with the suitcases?” ☁️ held his hand out, prepared to grab a bag or two.
“Hello, I’m their manager, and we will take care of this. The boys have been complaining about being tired, though. Can you take them to their rooms? Make sure that they know all but one of them are sharing. We will decide where they sleep after filming.”
It was then and there that ☁️ realized that he didn’t know why it is that he was there.
‘Is this a music video set? Or maybe this is just for a retreat?’ the boy wondered to himself. His boss at the company building had informed him of who the group was, but of course he had forgotten their name.
He nervously walked over to the 5 tall boys, them all carrying a backpack. One of the boys had two backpacks, both of which seemed heavy.
“Oh, are you from another group? I thought we were filming a ‘To-Do’ here..” A tall boy tilted his head to the side, visibly confused. ☁️ was confused by his confusion, him furrowing his eyebrows unintentionally.
“I’m sorry?”
“Are you an idol?” The tall boy asked again.
“Oh, no. I’m here as a worker. I’m supposed to be your personal assistant.. or something like that.”
“Oh, okay.” The boy was tired, and ☁️ could sense the same feeling from the four behind him.
“I was instructed to take you to your rooms, so please follow me.” ☁️ felt awkward about their conversation, feeling that it was going to be a long day. The boys were ready to follow him, but ☁️ walked up to the one with two bags, him taking one of them and throwing it around his shoulder.
“I’m ☁️, by the way.” He said, beginning down the dirt path to the cottage. The five followed behind, slowly walking up the stone steps as if their energy was being spent with each step.
The staff weren’t running around at this point, most of them sitting around or talking to each other. Everyone stopped what they were doing as the six boys stepped inside. ☁️ smiled awkwardly, the boys behind him quickly greeting everyone. The room began to fill with ‘hello’s and ‘welcome’s as ☁️ led the group to the other side of the house. They arrived to a dimly lit, narrow hallway. There were three frosted glass doors, natural light emitting from the inside. ☁️ thought about the director’s quick tour, him pretty sure this was where their rooms were.
“The manager said that there are three bedrooms, so only one of you will get your own room. He also said that I’m not allowed to let you pick where you’re sleeping.”
The boys all grunted, clearly annoyed with the staff. They all looked at each other, and then back at ☁️.
“They said it was fine if you rest, though. So you can pick them now, just understand that it’s temporary.” ☁️ spoke formally to them, watching as they looked to each other again.
“How do you want to split up?” A boy with big eyes asked, looking around.
“I’m getting my own room, you guys can figure it out.” One of them stated, walking past ☁️ toward the room directly down the hall. Another one of the boys gripped his shoulder, pulling him back.
“No, you and Taehyun can share.”
The group began bickering about the room toward the end of the hall, though one of them stood behind and looked at ☁️. It was the boy who had two backpacks, him seemingly about to fall asleep standing up. ☁️ looked back at him, both mesmerized by his beauty and a bit worried.
“Uh, all of the rooms have two beds. Why don’t you get some rest.” ☁️ opened the door behind him, holding it for the tired boy to walk through. The room was a decent size for such a small cottage- the beds were a few feet apart with a nightstand in between. Wooden floors held beige walls with a few small paintings. Above the bed on the other side of room sat a large window with see-through lavender curtains. A beautiful view of a large garden with flowers of pink and purple added to the scenery of the blue sky. On the other side of the room, a large wooden dresser sat against the wall.
The boy muttered a ‘thank you’ and threw his bag onto the floor. He fell onto the bed, resting his head opposite from the window and toward the door. ☁️ softly placed the heavy bag from around his shoulder next to the bed, then dragging the dropped one beside the nightstand.
“Are you really our personal assistant? We haven’t had one in a while..” The boy mumbled as he laid on the bed, eyes closed. ☁️ walked to the bed on the other side, which was only a few feet from the boy’s.
“What makes you think that I’m not?” ☁️ asked jokingly. A cool breeze flew into the room, brushing against ☁️’s cheeks and neck.
“You’re attractive. And not wearing a mask like a lot of the other staff.” The boy paused. “That’s why Soobin thought you were in a group. I think.”
☁️ was taken aback by the idol’s comment, it making him blush and become nervous at the same time. Analyzing the boy’s soft features, ☁️ realized that he still didn’t know their names.
“Thank you, you’re attractive too. What’s your name?”
The boy opened his eyes and lifted his head. He looked at ☁️ sleepily. “You don’t know our names?”
☁️ choked on his words, a bit embarrassed. “I do.. I’m just bad with remembering them. I’ll know when you remind me.”
The boy laid his head down on his arm, looking at ☁️. “You can call me Hyuka. That’s what they call me.”
Two of the other members busted into the room, Hyuka immediately pretending to have fallen asleep.
“He’s already sleeping?”
☁️ recalled that the tall one was Soobin, but didn’t know who the one with the middle part was. He looked over to Hyuka, who continued to “sleep.”
“Yes, he just fell asleep.” ☁️ stood up, walking away from the bed so that Soobin could place his bag down.
“I’ll just room with Taehyun, then.” The other said, ☁️ following him out of the room and shutting the door softly. The other boy walked into Taehyun’s room across from Hyuka’s, and shut the door.
Now that ☁️ was warming up to the group, he felt better about the time he was going to spend with them. He walked down a few halls to the living room, where the staff director watched a tiny camera being installed into a corner of the ceiling.
“Excuse me.” ☁️ said, standing behind him.
“Ah yes, are the boys resting?”
“Yes, they are. Is there anything you need me to do now?”
“You should rest for a while too. You were here super early. Take the extra bed in one of the rooms and I’ll grab you when we film tonight.”
☁️ felt as though this ‘personal assistant’ job was unproductive. He sighed and nodded, grabbing his bag from a chair on the dining room table. The director followed behind him.
“☁️,” The director tapped the boy’s shoulder as he picked up his bag. He turned around quickly.
“This job.. it may seem fruitless at first. These ‘To-Do’ projects are mostly just a break for the immediate staff, which you are considered. Enjoy your leisure time with the boys before you become a lot more occupied during the promotion projects.”
☁️ understood his position now, him thanking the director for the explanation. The two parted ways, as ☁️ returned to the narrow hallway. He walked all the way down, opening the door very slowly as to not wake the boy sleeping. To his surprise, one of the boys and Soobin slept peacefully across from each other. Retracing his steps, he lightly shut the door and walked over to Hyuka’s room.
Hyuka snored loudly, causing ☁️ to assume that it bothered Soobin. ☁️ walked over to his bed and placed his bag down. He then grabbed a pillow, and walked to Hyuka’s bed. He placed the pillow beside Hyuka. Gently lifting the boy’s heavy head and shoulders, he quickly slid the pillow under. Hyuka’s snoring stopped, and he repositioned himself in his sleep.
Relieved, ☁️ walked over to his bed, passing out as soon as he climbed into it.
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A pair of hands lightly shook ☁️’s shoulder. Slowly opening his eyes, Hyuka was on one knee in front of the bed. Behind him, the curtains blew a soft breeze into the room. White clouds flew across the bright blue sky as ☁️’s upper body rose from the bed.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Wanna go for a walk?” Hyuka stared into the boy’s eyes, almost without emotion.
“I’m not sure..” ☁️ rubbed his eyes and threw the blanket off of his legs. He looked over to the window, the bright atmosphere meaning that there was still time before they filmed.
“..let me make sure it’s okay with the staff director.”
Hyuka nodded and stood up, him then walking over to his bed and sitting. ☁️ stood up, grabbed his phone, and opened the door.
“I’ll come with, so we can just leave after.”
Hyuka stood up immediately and walked over to the door, holding it open as the two talked.
“What if he says no?” ☁️ raised an eyebrow. Hyuka smiled at the action.
“You’re our assistant, I command you to go on a walk with me.” Hyuka smiled flippantly, ☁️ rolling his eyes as he walked out of the room.
“That’s not how this works.”
-
Hyuka looked over to ☁️, grabbing his arm. Since the film director had left to his hotel, the manager had given them permission to leave for a bit.
“Be back in a half hour, please.”
Hyuka dragged ☁️ by his arm out of the cottage door, him only letting go when the door was closed behind them.
“Why did you want to go on a walk again?” ☁️ looked around at the nature surrounding the two.
“There’s a path over here. The others were still sleeping, and I really wanted to go.” Hyuka looked from the sky to ☁️, his eyes asking permission to begin walking down the steps and toward the path.
“Lead the way.” ☁️ said with a light smile. The two quickly made their way down the stone steps, and through the grass to the other side of the house. There was a wooden gate blocking the entrance to the garden, which Hyuka power walked over to. ☁️ assumed this was so that he could open the door for him, which he did.
☁️ laughed at the action and thanked him, Hyuka just nodding shyly. The two walked through the bushes and large patches of flowers, ☁️ pretty much following Hyuka as he wandered around. Eventually the two found a bench next to a small bird fountain. ☁️ sat after Hyuka, with their backs now to the cottage.
“We can see our room’s window from over here.” Hyuka turned around to look back at the cottage, ☁️ following his action. The boys gasped as they saw two heads looking at them through the window. Once spotted, those two heads jumped out of view.
“Who’s in our room?” ☁️ asked, somewhat annoyed.
“I think it’s Beomgyu and Yeonjun. They’re nosey.” Hyuka got up and took a few steps to the left. He turned around, motioning for ☁️ to follow. The two walked toward the end of the garden, where the path that Hyuka was talking about was located. It was a narrow dirt path surrounded by tall trees. Sunlight broke through branches above, illuminating small parts of the path. Hyuka once again opened the gate for ☁️, the two then walking side by side.
☁️ would occasionally look over to Hyuka as the two walked in silence, Hyuka occasionally catching his gaze. Hyuka’s face didn’t display an ounce of expression. His lips were sealed, and he was faced forward, aside from when he looked at ☁️.
After a minute or two of walking aimlessly down the path, ☁️ thought to himself out loud.
“I didn’t think idols were this.. nonchalant.” He looked over to Hyuka, who immediately glanced back to him, furrowing his eyebrows.
“What do you mean?” Hyuka responded, ☁️ noticing that he seemed almost offended by the comment.
“I just meant that you’re so.. nice. That’s the impression you gave me, anyway.” ☁️ stopped as the two arrived at the end of the path. A large opening in the trees displayed large green fields and mountains. The two were very high up, though it didn’t seem like their elevation was increasing as they walked. A brightly lit bench sat in a dirt area directly in the middle of this opening, large rocks surrounding the ledge.
Hyuka stood next to ☁️, visibly choking on his words. ☁️ felt bad for almost laughing at him, so he grabbed Hyuka’s arm and led him to the bench a few feet in the distance. The two sat facing each other, with ☁️ to the left and Hyuka to the right. ☁️ watched as the sun’s golden rays stretched across Hyuka’s soft skin, the boy finally finding his words.
“You’re nice, too. Idols.. I guess they get a bad reputation. You should get to know me more.” Hyuka looked from the beautiful view to ☁️. “I wanna get to know you more, anyway.”
☁️ was now the one at a loss for words. He wasn’t sure if Hyuka was just being nice or flirting with him. The two boys now staring at each other, Hyuka became embarrassed.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be..”
“No, no, no. It’s fine, you’re fine.” ☁️ didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, and it was clear that Hyuka thought that he made things awkward.
“I’d like to get to know you more, too. You’re sweet.” ☁️ placed a leg on the bench seat and turned his entire body to face Hyuka. The two smiled playfully, leaning into each other.
“Glad we’re on the same page.” Hyuka placed his left arm behind ☁️, as he leaned closer. ☁️ now understood what Hyuka was trying to say. After a few seconds of him processing, Hyuka’s face was only inches away from ☁️’s.
☁️ used his pointer finger and thumb to hold Hyuka’s chin, directing the boy’s lips over to his own. Surprised by his own actions, ☁️ titled his head and placed an arm around Hyuka’s neck. Hyuka responded by placing his left hand under ☁️’s thigh and lifting the boy onto him. With ☁️ now brushing against Hyuka’s torso, the two made out passionately, Hyuka kissing sloppily. Hyuka slowly slid his tongue into ☁️’s mouth, him then doing the same. Their tongues softly brushed against each other as ☁️ ran his hand through Hyuka’s hair, Hyuka gripping his ass.
After a minute, ☁️ lifted his mouth away from Hyuka’s to catch his breath. Hyuka furrowed his eyebrows at the action, placing his lips on ☁️’s neck and kissing gently as a substitute. ☁️ rubbed his hands up and down Hyuka’s chest, panting as he felt the boy’s kisses turn into bites.
☁️ pushed Hyuka’s head away softly, the two looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Hyuka’s straight hair swayed as the breeze began to pick up.
“Don’t leave marks. If they find out th-”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Hyuka lifted the boy again, adjusting so that ☁️ sat on his hard bulge. ☁️ began rotating his hips on Hyuka as they quickly returned to each other’s lips. Hyuka roughly anchored ☁️’s waist to his hips as he thrusted into him.
Hyuka was bulkier than he looked, and his chest was a fondled through his black shirt multiple times as ☁️ couldn’t get enough of it. As Hyuka’s thrusts became more aggressive, ☁️’s kisses got sloppier.
☁️ occasionally opened his eyes while they made out, the boy noticing that Hyuka’s skin became a bright orange color. ☁️ pulled away from the boy, removing his arm from his around neck and turning to face the sky. It had turned bright orange, the low, pink clouds lingering as the sun was beginning to set. Hyuka wrapped his arms around ☁️’s waist, continuing to feel down the boy on top of him. He looked up expectantly with soft eyes, but ☁️ only let out a troubled sigh.
“We should start heading back.”
☁️ gave Hyuka one last and sudden kiss as he lifted a leg off of the boy. The two now sat on the bench again, in silence.
“Did you know this was over here?” ☁️ looked over to Hyuka, who glanced back as he wiped his face.
“No, it’s our first time in this side of the city.”
☁️ wiped his face and nodded in understanding, him then standing up. Hyuka followed his actions, though he had to readjust the bump in his crotch area. ☁️ smiled at the boy as he shifted his pants around, Hyuka smiling back in embarrassment. His print wasn’t super noticeable in his jeans, anyway.
The two hurried out of the dirt area, and down the path as the forest began to get darker. Hyuka broke the silence after a few minutes.
“Why did you ask if I knew that the bench was there earlier?” He looked over to ☁️, though the dimness of the forest made it hard to see his facial expressions.
“No reason.”
“My intention wasn’t to.. you know, do that. With you.” Hyuka kept his gaze on the boy next to him until he responded.
“I believe you. Though, I think you wanted to do a little more than get to know me.” ☁️ smiled, knowing Hyuka wouldn’t be able to see it. Hyuka grabbed ☁️’s arm firmly as they continued walking.
“No, I want to get to know you. Seriously, I like you.” Hyuka’s voice became whiny, as through he was once again offended by ☁️’s words.
“I’m kidding, don’t worry.” ☁️ removed Hyuka’s grasp from his arm, and instead interlocked hands with the boy. “This won’t be able to go anywhere, though, you know that right?”
Hyuka remained silent for a few seconds, ☁️ sensing that he was unsatisfied with the comment.
“Why not?”
“You’re an international popstar and idol. Did you forget that?”
The two noticed the light from the cottage ahead. By this point, the sky was bright purple, only a few orange clouds still remaining.
“I can make it work. I’ll just hide you.”
☁️ rolled his eyes, though he thought it was cute how seriously Hyuka was taking their conversation.
“Okay Mr. Idol.”
Hyuka let go of ☁️’s hand to walk ahead and open the wooden gate’s door for him.
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“Where have you two been?”
The boy with the middle part walked into the living room just as Hyuka and ☁️ did.
“Which one’s this, again?” ☁️ asked jokingly, though he didn’t actually know the boys name.
“You work for us and don’t even know our names?” He exclaimed, his ego visibly hurt.
“That’s what I said.” Hyuka smiled at the face the boy was making- his mouth was open ajar and his eyes were practically squinting. “Fix your face Yeonjun.”
Yeonjun glared at Hyuka, then looking over to ☁️ expectantly. “Well, where were you?”
“We went for a walk down a dirt trail.” Hyuka responded.
“And what’s on your neck?” Yeonjun lazily pointed to ☁️. The boy froze and looked at Yeonjun, then to Hyuka.
“A branch.. fell on him. On our way back.” Hyuka said with a perfect poker face. He broke the facade when he smiled awkwardly to ☁️, almost as to ask for help.
“Yea, the winds were really, well, rough. It didn’t hurt.. but I bruise easily. I guess.” ☁️ held a hand over the bruise and brushed his fingers over it.
“Right..” Yeonjun turned his gaze to Hyuka, who smiled innocently at him. Another boy entered the room, ☁️ not knowing this one either.
“What took you guys so long?” He said, walking into the open kitchen area.
“☁️ has a bruise on his neck.” Yeonjun yelled to him. Huening muttered the word ‘asshole’ under his breath as the boy in the kitchen looked at ☁️.
“Come check it out, Taehyun.” Yeonjun yelled again, trying not to smirk. Taehyun walked over to ☁️, Yeonjun motioning toward his neck. ☁️ hesitantly pulled down his top’s neckline so Taehyun could see it clearly.
“How’d that happen?” Taehyun looked to Hyuka, concerned.
“He got hit by something flying in the wind. We couldn’t see well because it got dark.” Hyuka responded, his voice monotone.
“You said it was a tree branch.” Yeonjun snarled.
“I never said that.”
“You just said that?!” Yeonjun furrowed his eyebrows in both anger and confusion.
“No I didn’t.”
☁️ decided to play Hyuka’s game by teasing the boy. “Yeonjun, are you okay?”
Taehyun looked at Yeonjun and sighed. “The staff will be here soon. Maybe you should rest some more before they come.”
“I should beat you.” Yeonjun grabbed Hyuka’s shirt as Hyuka laughed at him, Taehyun grabbing Yeonjun’s arm and dragging him away.
“☁️, follow me so I can put some ointment on the bruise.” Taehyun said as he and Yeonjun walked away. Yeonjun grilled ☁️ about whether or not Hyuka talked about a branch. ☁️ just shrugged, which made the boy go feral and walk away from him and Taehyun.
-
Taehyun knelt on the bathroom tiles as ☁️ sat on the toilet. The idol carefully applied a cream over the bruise as they sat in silence.
“Alright, all done.”
“Thank you.” ☁️ said as the two stood up. Taehyun placed the cream tube in a small bag. He didn’t turn away from the bag, though he opened his mouth, hesitating to speak. ☁️ noticed and waited for him to do so.
“You should be careful, ☁️. Please, no more branches falling on you. Or Huening Kai.” Taehyun must’ve understood what was going on, ☁️ catching on quickly.
“It won’t happen again.” ☁️ muttered feeling embarrassed. Taehyun also sensed his embarrassment.
“At least don’t make it obvious.”
☁️ nodded, Taehyun finally turning to him and smiling. The two left the bathroom and walked down the hall just as the staff arrived with large duffle bags.
“We’re filming in 10!” The staff director yelled.
-
The filming lasted around 2 hours. The concept of the video was simple, and ☁️ sat behind the camera alongside the director, manager, and other staff. Simply watching the boys in silence, ☁️ occasionally adjusted his hoodie to cover the bruise, or played with the black mask around his face.
The five idols were each given a mission on a piece of paper. They had to find a specific object, though their papers only contained riddles and hints to the other boy’s objects. Soobin and Taehyun quickly shared the hints to each other, leaving out the other three. Beomgyu and Yeonjun teamed up against Hyuka, leaving the boy without any hints. Hyuka wandered around the house, not sure what it was he was loookign for.
Irritated, he gave up and walked over to his room, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. There was a camera hidden in the room, the staff laughing at Hyuka’s behavior.
The staff director snapped his fingers at ☁️, who immediately turned his attention to him.
“Deliver these papers to Huening Kai, please.” He whispered as Beomgyu and Yeonjun had walked into the living room. ☁️ looked at the papers and stood up, them all containing a hint to Hyuka’s item. ☁️ walked over to the room, knocking before entering.
Hyuka was surprised to see ☁️ walk in while they were filming, him lifting his body up to sit and face the boy. Hyuka’s face was red and his eyebrows were arched, making him look mean. ☁️ simply handed the papers to Hyuka, and tiptoed back to where the manager sat on the floor.
Eventually, Hyuka found his item before the others, his prize being that he got to have a room to himself. He knew he was temporarily sharing that room with ☁️, which made him express less agitation towards everyone.
-
The team began to pack the cameras and equipment away to head back home. The five idols were staying behind as the next few days were their mini-vacation.
As ☁️ grabbed his bag from Hyuka’s room, the group’s manager approached him. It was just them two, as Hyuka was still in the living room helping the staff. Standing in the doorway, the manager knocked on the door to catch ☁️’s attention.
“Hello, ☁️. Please feel free to decline the offer, but one of the boys asked if you could stay with them for the retreat. It’s only a few days, and the entire week will be paid. It’s up to you.”
☁️ recalled that his boss gave him a week to work with the group before he could be considered for another position. A week working while also on a retreat sounded great.
“I’ll accept. I just need a ride to the hotel to grab my other bags.”
“I’ll have someone drive you, please come with me.” The manager nodded, motioning ☁️ to follow him. On his way out behind the other staff, Hyuka grabbed ☁️’s arm and squeezed.
“You’re going to stay, right?” Hyuka asked in a low-pitched voice. He was clearly still upset.
“Yes, I’m just grabbing my stuff.”
Hyuka let go of his arm, watching motionlessly as the staff made their way outside. The sky was now pitch black, and light drizzle filling the air.
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“☁️.”
“Yes, Hyuka?”
“What’re you doing.”
“I’m just scrolling through social media. Why?” ☁️ turned to face Hyuka as the two boys laid in silence.
“Can you come over here?” Hyuka was lying on his back, once again staring at the ceiling above. Rain droplets lightly tapped against the window beside him. ☁️ rolled his eyes and continued scrolling.
“Why, Hyuka?”
☁️ waited for a response, only to hear Hyuka sigh heavily. He looked over, seeing the boy turn to his side to face the wall. ☁️ turned his phone off and placed it on the nightstand, him then walking over to Hyuka’s bed. He placed his body down behind the boy, wrapping an arm around his torso. Hyuka turned to face ☁️, their bodies only inches apart.
“You still upset?” ☁️ removed his arm from around Hyuka, placing his hand on Hyuka’s chest instead. Hyuka pressed his hand on top of ☁️’s, guiding it along his pecs.
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
Hyuka placed a hand on ☁️’s waist, slowly moving that hand down to his ass. ☁️ felt his body heat up, which resulted in him once again grabbing Hyuka’s chin.
“Wanna finish what we started?” ☁️ asked, Hyuka then pulling the boy’s body into to him. Without saying a word, Hyuka climbed on top of ☁️ and placed himself in between his legs. The two locked lips and let their tongues run loose into each other. It didn’t take long for Hyuka to thrust into ☁️ again, though the thrusts were much more aggressive than earlier.
After another minute or two, Hyuka removed his shirt, revealing his muscular pecs. He smiled at ☁️’s reaction, him then tugging lightly at the boy’s pants. ☁️ was quick to kick the pajama pants and underwear off, watching as Hyuka’s mouth came closer and closer to his cock. Hyuka stroked it for a few seconds before shoving it into his mouth, quickly bobbing up and down. ☁️ couldn’t help but occasionally moan at the sensation. Grabbing Hyuka’s hair, he thrusted upwards into his mouth.
After a while, Hyuka pinned ☁️’s body down to the bed with one hand. He lifted his mouth off of ☁️’s cock, a trail or two of saliva following it. Hyuka then climbed off of the bed to take off his own pants and underwear. Hyuka’s legs were muscular and well defined, surprising ☁️.
He watched as Hyuka climbed on top of him, sitting directly above his chest. He stroked his flaccid cock for a few seconds before placing it right in front of ☁️’s mouth. ☁️ opening slowly, Hyuka waisted no time to thrust into it, making him choke almost immediately. ☁️ pushed the boy away to catch his breath, though Hyuka put it right back in. ☁️ was now the one bobbing his head on Hyuka’s length, which grew much longer as he began using his tongue. Hyuka ran a hand through ☁️’s hair, gripping the boy’s head to make him suck faster. Hyuka softly moaned, clearly enjoying the boy’s mouth.
He pulled his dick out and moved to ☁️’s side, Hyuka then flipping the boy onto his stomach. ☁️ got on his hands and knees, arching his back slightly as Hyuka positioned himself behind his ass. He grabbed ☁️’s shoulders and lifted them upwards so that the boy’s back was against his chest. ☁️ could feel Hyuka’s chest brush against his back as the idol’s big dick twitched in between ☁️’s ass cheeks. Hyuka leaned into the boy, turning his head and locking their lips together. The two rubbed their hips against each other as ☁️’s body became even hotter. ☁️ removed his lips from Hyuka’s and placed the boy’s hands on his waist. Hyuka placed his lips on ☁️’s neck, kissing on it once more. He grabbed his dick, smacking it against ☁️’s ass a few times.
“Ready?”
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BONUS
“I thought idols weren’t supposed to get any action.” ☁️ laid on his back with only a tee shirt and underwear. Hyuka rested his head on ☁️’s chest with an arm around the boy’s body, wearing only sweatpants.
“We don’t.”
“Then how’re you so good?” ☁️ slowly ran a finger through Hyuka’s hair. He felt the boy shrug against his body, Hyuka clearly becoming sleepy. ☁️ rolled his eyes as Hyuka closed his, with the company the two provided each other easing them both to rest.
“Goodnight, ☁️.”
☁️ smiled as he continued playing with the boy’s hair.
“Goodnight, Hyuka.”
- 🫂
likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
a/n: kai fic woooooo
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littleredwing89 · 1 year
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FAMOUS - PART ONE
Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader
Warnings: Language. Mentions of death threats.
A/N: So part one is finally here!!! Woohoo!!! Enjoy all. More to come soon xoxo much love xoxo @offendedfishnoises thanks again for all of your help with this - all the love xoxo
————
DEATH SHALL FIND YOU
————
The Gotham Sirens.
You never imagined that this would happen to you. Not in a million years. The group had taken off almost instantly and you’d become world famous. You stared up at the stage, the neon blue of your band's name glowing. Several technicians ran past you and smiled, altering the mic stands and taping down the wires so no one would fall. You loved the hustle and bustle just before the performance. Even standing on that stage in front of millions of people, nothing made your soul buzz like the beginning set up of a show.
You, Selina, Ivy and Harley had met at Gotham University majoring in Dance and Music. At first it had been nothing more than just a class assignment. Create a song. But Harley uploaded it onto Instagram and it blew up the internet. The next thing you knew, Mr Roman Sionis - headhunter for Dent Sounds Record Label - himself had arranged a meeting with the four of you.
And well, as they say, the rest was history. That was over 3 years ago now. It had been a complete blur. You were still catching up. You were no longer having to scrimp and save for cash. No. Now, now you had everything. Everything you’d ever dreamed of. Everything but your privacy. Especially after the meeting this morning with Roman.
——
“You’re not being serious are you?”.
You looked into the mirror whilst the make up artist finished off your eyelashes. Your manager, Roman, stood behind you with his arms crossed. A stern look stitched onto his face.
“Of course I am”, he huffed and his stare burned into you, “You’ve received another death threat and someone tried to break into your condo last month. You need more security. Something more personal”.
You rolled your eyes and the make up artist scolded you by smacking her brush on your wrist. You grinned cheekily at her before resting back in your chair, putting on your sickliest, sweetest voice, “Romy…”.
Your little nickname for him. It worked every time. He’d never allow anyone else to call him that. Just you.
“No”, he growled, “This is my final decision. You’re getting a personal bodyguard. I don’t want to find you chopped into tiny pieces”.
“How come Ivy doesn’t have to have one? Or Selina...even Harley doesn’t! So why me?”.
You didn’t need a bodyguard. You knew the second you got one, you would be kissing your freedom goodbye. They’d be with you 24/7. Your apartment would be shared. You wouldn’t even be able to sneak off to McDonalds for a McFlurry at 3am without having to confirm it with them. Or even worse, have them go with you.
“They haven’t had any psychotic stalkers”, Roman rested against the wall, sighing deeply, “yet”.
You scowled and refused to meet his eyes in the mirror. This was a complete over reaction.
“Look, I know you’re not happy but this goes way over my head. Mr Dent, the CEO—insisted. And to be honest Y/N, I think it’s a good idea. You girls are only getting more popular and that means more weirdos will crawl out of the woodwork”.
“Romy…”, you tried once more, turning to him and fluttering your dark, thick lashes at him, “Can’t you talk to Mr Dent?”.
He pressed a hand to his forehead, the muscles in his forearms contracting. You noticed the dark shadows under his eyes and silently wondered when he last got a good night's sleep.
“I’m sorry”, he muttered, “But I agree with Harv on this one, I’ve already been in touch with a firm. They’re highly recommended…you’ll meet them tomorrow”.
He turned quickly and strode out of the changing room as his phone rang, ending the conversation abruptly. You could hear his booming voice bouncing down the corridor and you glared at yourself in the mirror.
Fucking perfect.
————
Dumping a wad of paperwork down onto the desk, Jason sighed and took a long sip of his coffee. He knew high profile clientele came with difficulty but the stack of paperwork Sionis had sent him was nothing short of ridiculous. They even wanted to know where he’d bought his new leather jacket from last month.
“Alright?”, Roy sauntered over with his own coffee cup shuffling some of the papers. He was awfully chipper this early in the morning. Jason hummed in response and grabbed a pen from the side beginning to fill in the required forms.
He’d started this business with Roy a few years ago. Dropping out of university was tough but it wasn’t for him. Jason remembered worrying about telling Bruce. What his family would think of him but they showed him nothing but support. Unconditional love. They’d both managed, with countless hours, to build ‘Outlaws Security’, into the most successful security firm in Gotham.
Roy’s eyebrows lifted upon seeing a photo of the new client, “Isn’t that the chick you had on your wall at uni?”.
“What? No!”, Jason bristled and shoved the photo of you back under the documents. He inwardly cursed. Fucking Roy.
“So, you're saying that if I look inside your office locker, I won't find a poster of her?”.
Jason heard the cocky smirk on Roy’s face and groaned in irritation running a hand over the front of his face, “Touch my locker and I’ll break your legs”.
Roy cackled loudly and sat on the edge of Jason’s desk, “Ok so you do still have it. Better not let her find it”.
“You’re a real jackass you know”.
“So I’ve heard...maybe she’ll sign it for you if you ask nicely”, Roy continued to mock Jason, making kissy faces at him.
“Why don’t you shut your mouth before I shut it for you”, Jason scowled and turned his chair around pretending to look for some files in the cabinet behind him. Hoping Roy would get the hint and leave him alone.
“This must be like your dream job come true, pretty boy—better not screw it up”.
Jason sighed deeply and threw his head back in exasperation, “I need a new best friend”.
Roy gasped dramatically and held a hand over his heart, “What?! You love me and you know it!”.
“Whoever told you that was lying”.
————
507 notes · View notes
itscherrylipsforme · 8 months
Text
Everything fits into place: Oliver Quick x fem!reader
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Part 1 here
Summary: After having fallen in love with you at an Oxford's library, Oliver planned everything out until he could have you wrapped around his fingers. Now that your school year is over, you have been invited to spend the firsts months of Summer in Saltburn. You were certainly not expecting what you found there, but don't worry, Ollie was already three steps ahead
Warnings: Post Saltburn fic, a little bit dark (it’s Oliver, what you expected?), age gap (he is around 15-17 years older), slightly innocent kin? (A little bit spicy, but nothing really sexual)
Requested: yes
Words: Something between 700-800 words
Author's rambles: As I have seen that people somehow enjoyed my shitty writing I decided to make part two. Hope you like it!
Masterlist Characters I write for
Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ
I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗
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Oliver hadn't told you much about Saltburn, you could only gather the crumbs of information he left once in a while. A beautiful big home in the northwest that he had inherited from a woman he considered to be kind of his "second mother" after she passed away, that was all that you knew about it. Once he also he mentioned that she had met her through her son, who had been in Ollie's year in uni, that had committed suicide when both of them were young. All of that seemed like tragic memories that your boyfriend tried to bury in his past, so you didn't want to dig much on it not to hurt him.
But during the three hours long car ride that you had to do from Oxford to your Summer destination, you were expecting that at least he could describe it with more the detail. To your surprise he didn't and when the two of you arrived at the mansion he was able to call "home" now, just surprised was not the exact word you would use to describe what you were feeling. When the maid who had opened the doors of that palace to the two of you was ordered to dismiss by "Mr Quick" as they referred him, you couldn't help but ask.
"Why didn't you tell me you were practically living like a prince, Ollie?"
"Had to make sure you truly loved me and weren't after my money, darling" He answered plainly and tried to change the subject "Come on, let me show you the place"
"You know I am not like that" You protested. Maybe you wouldn't go as far as saying that you were offended, but you would be lying if you said his words didn't hurt a little at least.
You trusted him with every piece of your heart and soul. Told him all your secrets and all the times you had lost all your hope. You loved him enough to talk about it when you fell like nothing more like some broken mess that no one, not even him, could fix. And yet he couldn't do the same? Couldn't he trust enough for this until now Somehow Oliver managed to read your thoughts from the expression of worry on your face
"My beautiful beautiful y/n I am aware of It now. But trust me, I know better than anyone else how far people can go to gain power, I needed to be sure" His eyes seemed to darken a little for a few brief second lost in his mind until he came back and rested his hand sweetly on your cheek "How can I apologize to my beloved girlfriend for putting her through a trial?"
"Well, one of the few things you did tell me about this place was that it had a library" A little grin played on your lips while he held your hand and guided you through the maze that mansion was.
Four weeks later, you two were laying in the bed you have been sharing during your stay. His arm around your waist a little bit too tight, as you had learned he liked, and your head resting on the crock of his neck. It was one of those lazy mornings that you could spend peacefully in each other embrace.
"You know every day for the rest of our life could be like this" His nose and lips dancing dangerously close to your face as his hand rubbed your back up and down.
"Ollie, that was a funny one" A small giggle echoed in the room.
"I am serious y/n" His big blue eyes glued to you as he started kissing, your forehead, your cheek, your lips... "We could sooner than later. Marry, have you in my bed each morning, and maybe a few kids around if you are up for it. Doesn't it sound good for your"
"I need to finish my degree first, Ollie" His lips now on your neck, and gosh he knew pretty well that you couldn't say no to anything when he did those kind of things.
"Of course you have that, I am not saying otherwise" Actually, you didn't need to finish it, once you were his you wouldn't have to work a single day in your life. But if you wished to gain your diploma to be happy, he wouldn't dare to say otherwise. "Maybe after you graduated, what do you think about?"
You just smiled at his sweet trail of kisses, and he took it as a yes. Soon enough you would be tied forever, soon enough you would be his wife, soon enough you two would be better than the Cattons have ever been. Soon enough, everything from his plan would fit into place.
154 notes · View notes
maximumkillshot · 10 months
Text
I Got You
Warnings: Mentions of Self-Harm, Cutting and the Like, some mentions of blood, Fluff, Protective boys honestly
Pairing: Changbin x Reader
Characters: Changbin, BangChan, Felix, OC Manager,
A/N: It's a comfort piece for @orchid-mantis-petals and everyone else struggling... You are a warrior... Don't forget it.
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‘This is bullshit!” You scream as you walk into the dorm. Slightly startling the inhabitants. 
Changbin rounds the corner to the living room where you just plopped, with creatine in hand, “You know hobbies are supposed to have the opposite effect on you, right, Jagi?” He knows you love doing your hobby. As much as you despise your job, if anything helps you, it's going out and indulging yourself. 
This was your only off day in the last two months. As much as you hate it, you need to be an adult, your words, not his. Your boyfriend and his friends know that he has offered thousands of times just to quit so that you can find a healthier job for you mentally, he’d take care of you. You just looked at him and said, “Yeah, no. I need to do things on my own, Binnie.” But this is what he was talking about. 
He put the supplement away and said, “Do you want to talk about it or give me an address so that I can put my muscles to good use?” as he sat, dragging you to his lap, “Because as much as I say I do it for the look, I do it to protect you. And someone hurt my Jagi so… You tell me who I need to beat up.”
You chuckled as you said, “They did it again…” 
Bin took a big breath and hissed out, “When you say ‘it’ you don’t mean scheduling you for a shift without telling you… right?”Then he took a breath and said, “Because if they did that then I… I am going to need addresses Jagi.”
Chan heard the big entrance and walked in from the bathroom, one look at Bin and he said, “Oh no.. okay how bad. On a scale of 1-10.” You could see that he just got out of the shower, some beads of water still clinging to his shoulders, sweatpants neatly tied on his hips.
Bin just looked at him and said, “They did it again…”
Chan’s face soured, “Oh ok so 11. Y/N. We talked about this.” he said as he crossed his arms. 
You see, this is a very common occurrence at your job. For some reason, they give you no notice and expect you to telepathically understand that you need to come in on your weekend. This pissed everyone off especially…
There’s a knock at the door and Felix just walks in… he takes one look at his Hyungs and he knows, especially with the frustrated tears that are now rolling down your cheeks. “What’s going on? What happened?”
He dropped the brownies he just baked in the kitchen and came back in. Bin wiped some of your tears away as he said, “They did it again.”
Felix is usually the nicest person in a room. His face however reflected nothing but disdain, “A day off is a day off…. How hard is it for them to get???” He wiped his forehead, trying to flatten the scowl he had on his face. 
“Guys it’s okay.” You said, knowing that all they are going to do is worry about you more.
Felix looked at you and said, “Actually not it isn’t, Cinnamon Roll. It’s not fucking okay. Not when you work so hard for so long that you can barely get out of bed… That is not okay.”
Chan said, “Okay screw this nooope.” He went into Bin’s room then his own and then his own. He emerged with his hoodie on and he threw the keys at Bin. “You are not going through this anymore, Angel. We told you. Naur.”
You looked and said, “Guys.”
Bin gently said, “Listen to me, okay. We talked about this. If they ever did this again, you said yourself that you couldn’t do it anymore. We told you, we are not going to let this happen, and you agreed, did you not?”
“Yes”
“Ookay so we are going right now. You’re done working there. Let’s go.” Bin left no room for discussion as you four piled into the car. These boys have seen you through it all, including passing out from exhaustion when they forced you to work doubles, and others spraining parts of your body you didn’t know you could sprain. That’s the times that are passing through Bin’s head. He hated seeing you like that… for a paycheck?? He couldn’t fathom it. Not when he makes enough and has a bed for you, a home if you say the word. No, he was done watching his Baby getting hurt for something he has plenty of. 
Chan was always worried sick about you. He knows about your history. He remembers the first times he noticed your scars. He didn’t pry, didn’t want you to feel bad. That made him fiercely protective of you. When you did tell him and you pulled up your right sleeve, he wanted to cry. He asked if he could touch it, and you said yes. He noticed some of them connected to make a pair of Angel wings. “Ah, you have the mark of an angel.” He traced it, “A warrior angel… You are so so strong… I’m gonna call you that, Angel.” Since then that has been your nickname.
Felix got so angry because he knew the trigger for you was emotion regulation, and while no one was watching you were digging into your right forearm with your left.  He caught you once, 5 weeks ago. He had tears in his eyes as he helped you clean it. He asked you how long, what triggered it, and how he could help. He just wanted to help his Cinamon Roll. He went with you to tell Bin of the relapse and since then at least 3 times a week he’s at your place, helping take your mind off of the stress, even if it means him staying with you until Bin comes to yours. 
He noticed in the car your left hand was scratching at the old scars again, he held his hand out and said, “hold my hand… I need affection.” as he fake cried. You giggled as you grabbed his hand, stopping the urge to fiddle. 
As soon as the car stopped Bin hopped out and opened the door for you. When they walked in Bin knew who he was looking for as your manager glared at you and said “You’re late.”
Bin laughed as he approached them, “late for what? Another shift you didn’t tell them about?”
They were speechless, as he continued, “Do you know what they go through for you? I love them so much and all you do is hurt them… That stops today, okay. No two weeks notice, no nothing.” 
Their jaw dropped and he said, “Oh doesn’t feel so nice does it? Not knowing if something was going to happen… Well your staff shortage, just got worse. If the last check isn’t in the mail on time, then we are coming back, and you will be dealing with 8 very pissed-off men who have a lot of connections and millions of people in their fanbase… Bad press wouldn’t begin to cover it. Okay? Am I clear?” 
They just nodded and he said, “Good. Jagia, do you have anything you need from your locker?” 
You said, “Yeah I do.”
Bin looked at Chan and he nodded, Chan switched out with Bin and said, “We’re going to have a little chat about leadership and manners. Okay?” 
Bin went to you and escorted you to get your things. Once you have everything you both went back to the front and signaled Felix and Chan to fall back. You couldn’t explain the relief as you walked to the car. When Felix and Chan got in the car. Bin opened the door for you. Before you got in he kissed your scars and said, “I love you… all of you, it’s over, okay? I got you.” Tears started to paint your face as he kissed you. Before he started crying he guided you in and closed the door. 
Right after he closed his door he said, “So I don’t know about everyone else but Y/N’s day is now free which means we go to their favorite pastry shop and get those Apple Cinamon Rolls and have a movie marathon. If you don’t like it too bad we are doing it anyway!!”
You started giggling as Chan cranked the stereo. You had a lot of things that you deal with yes, but this moment let you realize, that you weren’t going through it alone. Especially not with Binnie, Lixie, and Chan. ----------------------------------------------------------------
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THE CHAOS EXPRESS 🚂❤️❤️
@Fuckthinking, @feybin , @1-800-shedevil , @channiesbakery, @channieswhore , @hwangswhore , @seungminhour , @skzms, @angstraykids, @roseykat , @seventeenytiny , @dreaming-medium , @thunderous-wolf , @hanjsquokka , @moonjxsung , @diddybok , @fics-lovebot, @seungminssangel, @straykeedz, @tasteracha, @ven-fic-recs , @euphoric-univers, @camilagonzalex, @juskz, @antoniorhinothethird, @mariteez, @armystay89, @i-like-nougat, @yeonjunsfox, 
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183 notes · View notes
genericpuff · 11 months
Text
The Extended Mishandling of LO's S3 Midseason Finale Premiere
Alright, so I had mentioned leading up to the release of the newest LO episode that my feelings regarding LO returning were pretty "meh". Not hyped, but not completely back of mind either. Just sort of a weird calm before the storm type feeling that could go either way.
I'm glad I got to have that moment of calmness because good god, this episode was an absolute shitshow. And honestly, I'm not surprised, for several reasons:
Rachel has never been good at maintaining a buffer, even back at the start of the series she only ever had 2-3 episodes ready ahead of her schedule which is NOT an ideal buffer for an originals series.
Rachel has never been good at writing, she's very "draw first write later" and has stated as such in interviews that when she gets 'stuck' on what she's writing, she'll just start drawing and fit the pieces in later.
Four months is NOT enough time to both rest, attend massive conventions, and work on improving a project while also getting buffer episodes ready.
Because of the FP episodes remaining locked over the hiatus, technically Rachel only needed to have ONE episode ready upon return for the newest FP release, not multiple like she'd usually need like in the past during the S2 midseason hiatus or the season finale episodes which would unlock those FP releases like normal - so for all we know, she could have drawn this episode literally last week, especially when the promo material was so last minute. Frankly I think it was REALLY stupid for whoever it was who decided to keep these FP episodes locked (whether it was her or WT, it was more likely WT) but you can read all I have to say about that in my review of the midseason finale episodes.
All that's to say, no, there was never any guarantee Rachel was going to somehow "turn around" the ride we're currently on. I know that many of the critics were hoping for that to happen, but with the circumstances of the hiatus mixed with Rachel's bad habits of putting her best efforts into the procrastination projects that aren't her actual comic (ex. the few original pieces and LO sketches she put out during the hiatus) it just wasn't in the cards. This is where the comic is at and this is where it will remain until it's over.
I want to also point something out about this episode that was... really glaring to me.
As with all of these hiatus returns, LO got priority advertising in the first two banner slots and push notifications AND a popup ad within the app. This is unsurprising, Webtoons is still trying to milk this thing for what it's worth.
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I know a lot of people are gonna focus on the art, or the fact that WT is continuing to shill LO, but I wanna point out the part that WT implemented specifically - "NEW SEASON".
This is literally just false. At best I'd like to think some intern just messed up and thought this was a new season, but it's literally not, the episode designation still says "S3". Note that the creators only design the banner art, the actual labels on top are put there by Webtoons.
But at worst, this feels like blatant lying to continue to hide the fact that LO is ending. Mind you, Rachel and Webtoons have still not put out official posts stating that this is the final arc. There is NOTHING from either of them to communicate to the audience that the comic is ending next year. It feels like they're trying to avoid the topic altogether out of fear of losing the fanbase they still have, rather than hyping up the comic's end for those who have stuck around to see how it all wraps up. And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case, considering they're now trying to funnel the fanbase into Penguin/Inklore with new marketing deals and the whole Rachel Smythe Presents thing. They're trying to make this seem like the beginning of something "new" when it's really just a quiet shifting of management (Penguin House).
But all that aside, let's actually get into the episode. It's one episode after 4 months, which is not standard for LO's hiatuses, typically FP episodes release on schedule (meaning free readers start hiatuses 3 weeks after FP readers do), the only time this has been an exception has been with the 2 week breaks because the whole point of those was to build a buffer (which you can't do if you're going ahead and releasing the FP episodes anyways). For extended hiatuses like these, usually free readers still get their FP episodes, but that wasn't the case here. That means Rachel technically only needed one episode ready for the comic's return, and it shows. It really fucking shows.
FROM HERE ON OUT THERE WILL BE FASTPASS SPOILERS REGARDING EPISODE 254. DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED !!!
As per tradition, we get a title that means nothing at all. It just says what we already know.
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Our collective husband Zeus is dying, no thanks to the poison cupcake fed to him by Apollo. For those who don't remember, Apollo had tricked Zeus into eating the cupcake by making him believe it was from Hebe. We are fully aware that it was Apollo who poisoned him. Remember that for later in this review.
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Right off the bat we're off to a hilarious start, both with a cryptid appearance from Apollo in the background (lmao) who is, for some reason, ALREADY returning to the scene of the crime he just committed because... who knows at this point. Apollo and Psyche know it was Apollo at this point, I might add, but I have no clue why Apollo is actually returning to the scene of the crime when he has no idea Eros and Psyche know.
Moving on from that, can we talk about this hilarious dialogue?
"We have to call a doctor! Let's call Asclepius!"
"No, we can't trust him! Gosh darn it, why are we only bothering to think of ONE doctor in this universe where we've seen more than one doctor?? Guess Zeus is just gonna die! What a horribly contrived situation this is!"
And that's literally how I can best describe most of this episode. Contrived. There is a LOT of manufactured drama in this that makes ZERO sense even on a surface level.
And what do you mean exactly, Eros? "What a terrible system!" Is this supposed to be a joke? Lampshading? We've seen Persephone go to the gynecologist. There are non-god doctors who tend to gods all the time here.
Eros just doesn't seem to be that pressed over this, he sounds like Ned Flanders and that's NOT a good way to open up a scene like this... let alone an episode people have been waiting four months for.
Anyways, after a few pointless reaction panels (again remember I have to cut a lot of what I show here for Tumblr image limitations but I promise you, I'm keeping as much important stuff as I can in this, there's just THAT MUCH filler at this point), Eros and Psyche confront Apollo and he is... good god.
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There is... so much to unpack here.
First of all, remember those theories about how Rachel was clearly trying to write Apollo as this "secret twist villain" the whole time but it doesn't work because Apollo is simultaneously written as both a 'conniving villain' and a massive dumbass at the same time?
Well, I finally have a more appropriate term for him. He's your average red pill redditor - someone who thinks he's smarter than everyone else when really all he does is sit on reddit all day using big words incorrectly in arguments he gets himself into with a bunch of equally-air-headed dumbasses.
"You can't possibly understand the nuances of the Olympian political system," Apollo said proudly, a man who had, ironically and obliviously, run for president in a monarchy. The union of kettle and pot is eternal.
He's the Slappable Jerk but instead of it being a painfully hilarious impression, it's just painful and hilarious for all the wrong reasons.
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this is so stupid because it's 1.) Eros pointing out how obvious Apollo's plan was, despite Apollo acting smart two seconds ago with a goddess who, mind you, has been a goddess for ten years, and 2.) patricide isn't even intrinsically linked to politics, there's nothing 'political' about a guy trying to kill his dad except in, idk, a monarchy, which again, Apollo has spent ten years trying to rise to power in as a president which is a completely different form of government.
If I wanted to be really granular with this, I'd like to think Apollo is making some kind of point about the critics who call out LO's whack as fuck political system (especially in the trial arc) - as if he's saying "well you're just a stupid reader and this is fantasy where you don't understand exactly what political system we're using, so shut the fuck up you stupid twig" - but I don't think it's meant to be that deep. I think it's just Rachel trying to write a smart character and then failing at it because she, herself, is not a smart writer. And I'm really inclined to believe that more than the theory about this being some kind of meta-narrative about the critics because this entire plotline is contrived and stupid down to its core.
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I did not cut anything out here, that's the pacing. Leto literally just appears out of nowhere and uh oh spaghettio's, she has Kassandra! Remember Leto? The character we were led to believe was truly "pulling the strings" until she disappeared from the story completely after she realized that Apollo and Persephone weren't a thing, even going so far as to call out her own son for being a fucking dumbass? Well, she's back and once again she's being involved as some kind of "double agent" in this whole thing, even though we literally haven't seen her since halfway through S2.
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"Mm yes, you're so stupid, falling into my trap! Even though you had no reason to remember Kassandra anyways because she's literally a mortal woman you just met and you yourself have committed acts of violence against mortals without a shred of care! I'm so smart! My plan is all coming together!"
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We've never seen Apollo do anything except cry and poop his pants, the closest he got to being "powerful" was his attempts to murder Daphne (who he seems to have forgotten about in this "master plan" of his) but ultimately he's literally just a piss ant baby and there's no reason to believe that he could somehow outmatch the God of Love who can literally manipulate people's emotions and states of mind with his arrows. But yeah sure go off, you're so powerful and smart.
The worst part is, I can't even buy this as the narrative trying to be like "see how manipulative and conniving he is?" because it's just silly. We've SEEN this man cry with his victim complex, we've seen him say and do the DUMBEST things that don't lend to any amount of "intelligence" he may have, it comes across less as him being "smart the whole time" and more as him trying to sound smart but ultimately sounding incredibly stupid. And I can't even immerse myself into it and buy that maybe that's the point, because it doesn't feel like the point, it just feels like inconsistent writing, he doesn't feel like a 'threat', he's just monologuing.
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Bad art and Apollo literally just repeating what Leto already implied so this is a waste of the audience's time.
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This is the funniest panel in the whole episode because I can't tell if Apollo is supposed to be in the background (for some reason, despite him literally being in front of Eros and Psyche two seconds ago) or if he's in the foreground and just REALLY small for some reason. This is so off-putting. And of course, it's just Apollo explaining what we're ALREADY SEEING ONSCREEN.
You see, in addition to this episode being contrived, it also talks down to its audience a LOT by explaining exactly what we're seeing onscreen. It's like Rachel saw the criticisms about her not including enough to depict what's actually going on in her head and so she thought the solution was to spoon feed information over pictures that are already doing the job of explaining what's going on. Rachel really doesn't know how to write and even when she tries to implement changes that reflect criticisms that have been made of her writing, she somehow makes things worse because she completely misses the point of what those criticisms are trying to get across.
Anyways, without even trying to resist (for some reason) Eros and Psyche get sentenced to horny jail.
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They're now trapped in a basement that Leto somehow has in her home. How do we know that?
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HAHAHA FUNNY LAMPSHADING SO FUNNNYYYYYYY
Leto claims that they shouldn't try to escape because the dungeon is "enchanted", but she doesn't even bother to explain what that means. So they literally don't bother trying. They don't try to call her bluff, they don't try to teleport out of there, they literally just go "well shoot", shrug their shoulders, and accept their fate. Just like with the whole "we can't trust the only doctor we bothered to think of" situation, Eros and Psyche are turning out to be some of the stupidest, lowest-effort characters in this comic who literally can't be bothered to try because that would require too much brain power.
Notice how much time we've spent on this and we haven't gotten back to where the cliffhanger of the last episode left off? Well buckle up because there's still more to cover.
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So it turns out Hebe was still inside with her dad, in FULL VIEW of what was going on through glass which is somehow COMPLETELY soundproof, and when Apollo steps inside, she just has no idea what happened. She never bothered to even look outside to see what was going on with Eros and Psyche, she's just been sitting on the floor staring at Zeus' dead face for what was likely several minutes, unless Rachel is seriously trying to convince us that conversation and hostage negotiation from earlier only took 2 seconds. The timeline is such a mess at this point that characters basically freeze in place as soon as they're not the focus of the scene.
Apollo rushes inside, acting shocked over the situation, and when Hebe asks where Eros and Psyche are (again, she could have just looked out the window at any time), he's just like "dur idk they just left lol" which Hebe just... buys, I guess.
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That's just Persephone but yellow. She's even missing her beauty mark.
See how Apollo put his hand on Zeus' chest/shoulder by the way?
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Apparently, despite Mr. Smarter Than Everyone Else trying to pretend it wasn't him, he's able to discern that Zeus is dying from a toxic and rare poison just from touching him. He doesn't even really seem to use his powers, he just touches him and goes "welp he's dead i guess lol don't bother asking me how I know that".
But oh nooo remember that note from before? Well gasp Apollo's gonna use it to frame Hebe! In front of no one else at all!
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Hebe of course says she didn't write it, but Apollo continues to try and frame her anyways, even though, again, there's no one else present here, and so it effectively just becomes the most absurd form of gaslighting I've ever seen.
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Again, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE IN THE SCENE. He's just trying to claim she did it to absolutely no one at all, in the hopes of... what exactly? That she'll just take the fall for something she knows she didn't do? That she'll somehow be convinced? It's not like Hebe has the same thing going on as Persephone where she has a 'wrathful dark side' he could pin it on, this is just a criminal who just robbed a building pointing at the first person they see and yelling "YOU DID IT!"
All I'm saying is that Apollo would be really bad at Among Us. He'd be the type of player to kill someone, hit the report button, then claim yellow did it which, even if he DID convince the rest of the team, would still get kicked anyways as soon as yellow was proven through the eject to not be the imp and everyone would go "okay cool so yellow wasn't the imp, that means obviously it's purple self-reporting." It's a trick that doesn't even work anymore because of how old it is. Hebe isn't a child here, she's an 18 year old woman who should be fully capable of raising an eyebrow and wondering why Apollo is this quick to accuse her - almost like he's trying to hide the fact that he did it.
But Hebe can't catch onto this, just like Eros and Psyche, she has to act stupid for the sake of the plot.
At first I thought maybe Rachel was trying to do some "whodunit" scenario, but that doesn't work here because we already know who did it. And while there are stories that exist like that that pull it off (ex. Knives Out) the problem with trying to do this the way Rachel did is that the person being framed has to have this thing called motive. The reason why Knives Out and Glass Onion work so well is because the person who was murdered (or conspired against) is someone who is being targeted by multiple people who could all be the murderer. It's quite literally called out in Glass Onion as a form of smart lampshading. "It's like putting a loaded gun on the table, and turning off the lights."
But it doesn't work here because Hebe does not have motive. If you're going to attempt to frame a murder on someone, it has to be someone who would have reasonable motive to commit that murder, even if they didn't actually commit it.
And who among Zeus' children has motive?
What about the war-mongering bloodthirsty god of war who has been regularly sentenced to time in the Mortal Realm to fight in wars in which he's been regularly injured?
What about the chaos-seeking wrathful goddess who would do it to get revenge on the parental figure who cast her aside, or even just for the fun of saying she did it?
Why try and pin it on Hebe, the doting daughter of Zeus who's only had a collective of maybe 20 panels in the entire comic?
But then I realized... it's not Knives Out, it's the fucking Lion King.
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Which is just as contrived - if not more - than the assumption this was gonna be some attempt to frame Hebe. It's not. He's literally just trying to keep her from assuming it was him. He could have just as easily played dumb without calling attention to the note but he intentionally went out of his way to try and be Scar from The Lion King , while completely missing the point of why that scene worked in the original movie.
Scar wasn't trying to 'frame' Simba for Mufasa's murder. He was trying to hide the murder, while also attempting to get the only heir to the throne out of the picture, so he passed the guilt of the death onto Simba - a child who, unlike Hebe, wouldn't have the ability to rationalize or realize his uncle his a scumbag - who then ran away from home because he was too terrified to face his family for what happened, assuming that it was all his fault when it wasn't.
That's not how this is panning out here. Hebe is the now 18 year old daughter of Zeus, and not one of his only children. She doesn't even fit into the whole "sons overthrowing their fathers" prophecy like Aries would. Apollo is literally just being a big idiot here by saying "well I'm gonna give you a headstart to run away, because if you stay, I might hurt you" (which btw, should be MORE of a smoking gun that Apollo did it??)
And again, it's all so contrived so that the plot can move forward. "Well I'm going to frame you for this murder, but y'know, you should just leave, I'm not gonna try and press it further lmao"
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Again, Apollo is a fucking idiot here, because he just attempted to frame someone who has NO MOTIVE to harm Zeus, to absolutely NO ONE at all who would side with him, only to let her go which would leave her to question why Apollo would try to accuse and harm her in the first place before considering other options. And through ALL this he claims he's the smart one, which I can't even be bothered to "love to hate" because it's written so poorly.
And really it all comes down to how everyone else behaves in relation to Apollo that makes it so stupid and unbelievable. Apollo, you're not smart just because all the characters around you are intentionally being written to be as stupid and non-confrontation as possible. If you can only write a smart villain by making everyone else stupid, you haven't written a smart villain, you've written a dumbass whose victory only happens due to contrived plot convenience. It's not even done well like in Glass Onion, it's just bad writing, full stop.
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And who does he call to report this emergency? The satyr police? His son the doctor?
No.
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The media. Literally just "hello, the media?? I need your best journalist here stat!"
I need you to understand, even if he were calling a tabloid magazine like The Weekly Nark, you don't just... call a journalist to report a murder. These are not the actions of someone who's trying to absolve himself of guilt, these are the actions of a complete dumbass trying to get news coverage of his trophy kill who would be better off just playing dumb instead of trying to play smart. Even Walter White wasn't this fucking stupid despite all the times he fell on his own sword, Apollo is literally just instigating suspicion towards himself for no reason at all. He's self-reporting so hard and worst of all, you can't even take any of this seriously because of how corny it is. There's no dramatic tension, no stakes, it's just a bunch of characters performing in a really bad stage play and reducing every conflict to "well I guess Zeus is just dead now because no one's bothering to make an effort to stop Apollo or ask questions lmao"
It's truly the epitome of "this plot wouldn't exist if characters would just talk to each other."
But finally, FINALLY we mention the thing this episode is named after, the transition point to Persephone.
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Just like with the midseason finale episode, there's a lot to cover here, so I'm gonna get more into it in a part two post.
That said, you can see already this is the messiest, most contrived bullshit to ever wind up in LO. It's trying so hard to be smart and it just comes across as a bunch of toddlers in the world's worst stage play rendition of Clue. None of what was done here was in any way dramatic or tense, it's just a bunch of characters infodumping shit we already know, trying to set up new plot threads that don't make any sense, and allowing one another to get away with what they're doing because they don't bother to even try.
It's completely manufactured, contrived nonsense. It's not "smart", it's not "so dumb it's brilliant", it's just dumb.
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