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#i feel like i should have been prepared for this
thinkinonsense · 2 days
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DESIRE ୨୧
logan howlett x mutant!reader
cw: flirty, slightly nsfw
a/n: this was heavily inspired by that scene in the first suicide squad movie where they introduce harley quinn.
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"we should all split up before someone finds us." storm tells her team mates as the break into the building.
inside were mutants of all kinds, being hidden and tested on. it was charles plan for the team to get as many as possible and bring them back to the mansion before they can cause any damage.
on the surface, it seemed simple enough. they have done this mission a million times. little did they know that an unspeakable danger awaited them in the basement of the old building.
everyone split up, storm went to the west wing while scott and jean went to the east. logan found his way downstairs, assuming that maybe he could find whoever was running the show here.
beyond the high security metal doors, he can hear the faint sound of an old record playing. the closer he got, the clearer it sounded. nancy sinatra? maybe? logan wasn't quite sure but he figured it was a trap so, he prepared himself for whatever was on the other side.
Way down along the stream
How sweet it will seem
Once more just to dream
In the moonlight
My honey, I know (I know) with the dawn
That you will be gone
But tonight
You belong to me
revealed on the other side is a large metal cage fit for a wild animal. inside was a girl swinging upside down from a line of tied material with her body in an obscene position.
"i've told you before, david..." your voice was angelic to logan's ears. light as a feather. "i don't like to be disturbed after 7."
"i'm not david, princess." logan said, stepping out of the shadows right as your eyes open.
logan's eyes scan over your scandalous appearance. tiny dirty white shorts and matching tight tank top, apparently whoever runs this prison doesn't allow bras either. you twirl down from near the top of the cage until your face to face with the man on the other side.
"who are you, then?" you ask, looking up at him as you hold onto the bars.
"i'm here to get you out of this cage." he says, unleashing his claws, ready to cut through the bars.
"hold it, baby." you purr, reaching out to touch his sharp claws. "don't you wanna play with me?"
"no, we need to leave."
"why should i leave with you? how do i know that you won't put me in another cage?"
even with a slightly dirty face, rings of lavender circles under your eyes, and dried blood on the corner of your bottom lip, logan still thought you were gorgeous. slightly intimidated by your fearlessness to reach out and touch his claws. he imagines that you had seen worse than this.
"tryin' to save you" he grunts.
"i wouldn't picture you as the prince charming type." you giggle, running your fingers up his hairy, veiny, strong arm over the black latex suit.
"i'm not."
logan glares down at you in a way that makes you want to jump his bones. what? it gets lonely being trapped in a cage all by yourself. plus it's not everyday that a handsome stranger wants to help you escape.
suddenly, you grab logan's palm, circling it as your eyes roll back to a dark green shade.
"tell me what you want to do with me." you demand.
this was the moment logan understood why you were held in a cage down in the basement. suddenly, logan's mind feels as if it's being bended and twisting, forcing every ounce of truth out of him.
"we are here to take the mutants to charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters." his voice sounded robotic under your spell.
"charles xavier?"
in a rush of excitement, you release logan from your threshold. he wants to bark at you for invading his mind but seeing you smile made him reconsider.
"so, you've heard of him?" logan raises a brow at you, watching as you hold his hand sweetly.
"of course i have." you answer tracing shapes on the back of his palm. "i've seen him in my visions. been waitin' on him."
visions? what kind of mutant are you? logan asked himself as you spoke.
"too bad i didn't see you in them, though." you sigh, batting your long lashes at him. "wish i had. could've bought us some time to... well, you know."
the teasing flirty tone made logan's cock stir under the tight latex. he felt this overwhelming desire for you fill his head.
"hm... we should focus on getting you out of here first, huh, princess?" he tilts his head to the side, amused by you. "step back."
you obey, walking backwards near your rope. in the blink of an eye, logan cuts through the bars and bends them out enough for him to help you get out. loud flashing sirens go off, slightly startling the two of you.
"guards." you warn him. "they're coming."
logan turns around, claws bare to anyone coming towards the two of you. he steps in front of you, ready to protect like a guard dog. it was quite cute of him, you think. the moment the guards burst in, logan starts attacking, stabbing them ruthlessly.
you allow him to take out a few one by one but as more poured in, you stepped in. your eyes roll back into the same shade of green as a hand raises, some of them fall to their hand and knees, shifting into dogs others were being strangled until they looked blue in the face.
logan couldn't believe it. the only mutant that he thought could rivaled your powers was jean. the room fell quiet except for the record echoing as it replayed.
"it's my favorite song, you know?" you grin as if nothing happened.
"old soul, huh?" logan asked with an eyebrow raised.
"witches are timeless, sugar." you wink, extending your hand for him to take.
logan hesitates but knows he has to get the two of you out of here alive. one look into your starry eyes and he's a goner. logan takes your hand and leads you to the jet, knowing he will never hear the end of it from his teammates.
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could you speak more to the point you made about seals in your post about moo deng? i see a lot of videos of seals at aquariums and want to know like, bad things i should be looking out for. thank you for your thoughtful writeups!
Thank you for your question! It's just a pet peeve I've had about people "dog-ifying" seals so they ignore a lot of behaviours that are indications of stress or aggression. And as long as it's memeable the facility's conditions aren't questioned.
Like this:
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That water is absolutely filthy and belly slapping (unless it's a cued behaviour) is a threat display. But these videos seem to still be considered acceptable meme content...
A lot of "funny seal videos" are of unsafe wildlife interactions, like divers allowing seals to chew on their gear or people letting their dogs chase and interact with seals. Because seals appear more dog-like and is cute, they are more "meme-able".
A big example of this is Neil the seal, a juvenile elephant seal demonstrating a disturbing level of habituation towards humans and, as he's grown up, is also showing signs of hormonal aggressive behaviour towards things like traffic cones, in preparation for future fights against other elephant seals for territory.
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Because he's become a meme though, no one is taking his behaviour seriously and people get way too close to him, despite it being illegal to do so. He shows aggression towards to authorities trying to move him off the road and away from danger as well.
Marine mammal experts had to stop sharing his location so people would stop tracking him down to shove a camera in his face for their viral videos
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His aggressive displays are still laughed off as "Neil just being silly and having fun" - but it won't be funny when he's a full grown elephant seal male body slamming cars and fences down. He has been relocated several times and continues to come back because he's been habituated so throughly by the locals.
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That's a threat display. He's not a dog. jfc. This guy was even hosing Neil down with water, which was reinforcing enough that he kept coming back.
Remember who else got lots of memes for being so "iconic"?
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Yeah.... Poor Freya. She just was looking for a place to haul out and rest and people wouldn't leave her alone.
But the reason why I feel this is similar to Moo Deng, is because she's also having stress and threat displays distilled to "haha she's so mad" memes.
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lol it's so funny how mortified she looks..... probably because she's a baby being constantly poked, chased, prodded, picked up, hosed and harassed when she should be hanging out with her mother in peace.
Neil is showing threat displays and aggression, but being ignored and memed into obilivion.
Seals are unfortunately more vulnerable to social media hype, as well as any animal the public deems as cute and "marktable".
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under pressure | katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord
thank you to the anon that requested this one. it's been fun to write it!
i think i'm gonna plan a part 2 of this maybe, depending on what reaction i get from this one...
pairings: katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord
summary: there's a lot of pressure that comes with being the next big thing in women's football sometimes
warning: talks of a eating disorder and angst
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It sometimes felt like you had the world at your feet. You were well aware of the word on the street that you were the next big thing in women’s football. The headlines were quick to label you as a future star, comparing you to legends like Marta or Sam Kerr, but of course being the youngest to sign a professional contract sometimes came with a certain level of expectations, and that was something that nobody could really prepare you for the weight that would follow.
Living alongside Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord felt like a dream in itself like it would for any football-crazy teenager and you were no different, you moved in with them after your own parents couldn’t travel to England with you. 
Caitlin and Katie were quick to become more than just teammates or mentors, they became family.
It should’ve been perfect– It mostly was.
At least until the pressure started to become too much for you, the media scrutinised everything about you: your every move, every game, every slip-up. There felt like there was never any room for mistakes and it started to take its toll on you.
The expectations suffocated you and you started to believe the medias’ words, not only the media but the pressure of fans as well, you felt like you were weighed down by an anker of harsh criticism.
Maybe if you were smaller– lighter, you could be faster. You could be better.
It only started small, barely noticeable in fact, just skipping meals and convincing yourself that you were just too busy. The comments on how lean you looked pushed you further, but it didn’t take long for the innocent excuses to morph into something darker.
The hunger pains were a lot easier to bear than the suffocating pressure, but you should have realised that it would be harder to hide, and before long, it wasn’t just you who had noticed the toll it was taking on you.
“You seem a lot quieter today kid,” Caitlin was the first to pick up on your bitter mood as you made your way out of the London Colney and headed in the direction of where Katie had parked her car earlier on when you all arrived for training, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I’m all good,” You gave her a weak smile and kept your shoulders slouched as you opened the car door to climb in.
Are you sure, kiddo?” Katie noted the exhausted look on your face as she opened the car door and climbed in, “Cait’s right, you don’t seem like yourself today.”
“I’m fine Katie,” You all but growled in response and slumped down in the backseat of the car, “I’ve already told you I’m fine, so just leave it, will you?” You hadn’t meant to be rude but you really do hate all the persistent questions being fired at you.
You hated being the centre of attention, despite what the media said about you.
It didn’t take long for you to begin feeling the weight of guilt, “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap like that.”
“It’s okay kiddo,” Katie replied, glancing in the rearview mirror and giving you a reassuring smile, “How about when we get home, we order pizza. My treat?” She offered.
Your smile faltered at the mention of food. Your stomach was hurting from the hunger, but couldn’t give in to the temptations, “Um, it’s okay, I don’t really fancy pizza, thanks,” You respond, biting your bottom lip.
You missed Katie and Caitlin sharing a glance with each other, catching the hesitation in your voice. It was subtle, but they both knew you well enough to notice.
At one point, you used to jump at the chance for pizza nights– especially after a long day of training and now you barely even showed an ounce of interest.
“Okay,” Katie simply nodded and started the ignition of her car up.
The drive back home was quiet, too quiet. The hum of the engine mixed in with the quiet volume of noise in the car filled the silence, but your thoughts were still loud. You couldn’t help but stare out the window, feeling the familiar tightening in your chest.
You hated the fact that they were starting to notice more, it was easier when they didn’t and you could still pretend that things were fine, even if they definitely were not.
You couldn’t ignore the way that your hands trembled slightly from exhaustion or the pounding in your head that had become all too familiar lately.
You just had to pretend for a little while longer.
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Back at the house, you immediately make a beeline for your bedroom while muttering something about needing a shower. As soon as you closed the door, you leaned against it and took a deep breath. 
The initial feeling of hunger gnawed at you but you try to shove it aside, heading into the bathroom to splash cold water on your face all while ignoring the mirror, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw.
“Hey kid! We’re gonna watch a film, do you want to come and join us?” Caitlin shouted upstairs to get your attention and you jolted slightly in shock.
“Uh, yeah, I’m coming!” You respond, turning the tap off and dabbing your face with a towel before making your way back into your bedroom, you shove a cosy hoodie on and shove your hair up in a messy bun before you head back downstairs to join the two of them.
“Here she is,” Katie exclaimed, gesturing for you to join them in the living room, “Where just deciding what film to watch, do you have anything you’d like to watch?” She questioned.
“Um, I don’t mind. I’m fine with anything,” You told her, plopping down on the sofa beside them as you listened to the two of them argue about what to watch.
Usually it was pretty comical when that happened, but you didn’t have it in you to laugh this time round.
The tension in the room was thick, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they brought it up again.
After what felt like an eternity, Caitlin broke the silence, “Y/N, we’re worried about you.”
Your stomach dropped and you should have known this was coming, but it still felt like a punch in the gut.
“You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping,” Katie leaned forward, her expression soft but serious, “You don’t seem like yourself, and we know that the pressure is a lot, but you know that you don’t need to carry it all by yourself.”
“I’m fine,” You shook your head, feeling the familiar panic rise in your chest, “I just have a lot going on right now.”
“We get it kid, but starving yourself isn’t the way to handle things,” Caitlins’ tone of voice was gentle but still firm. “There’s better ways to cope.”
You couldn’t help the tears that pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away and refused to let them fall, “I’m not starving myself,” You whispered, trying to convince yourself more than them, “I just… I need to be better. I’m not good enough.”
“Y/N, you’re more than good enough,” Katie’s heart broke at your words as she scooted closer and placed her hand on your knee, “You’re incredible, and not just because of football but because of who you are, okay. You can’t do this to yourself, you can’t push yourself to the point where you’re hurting, kiddo.”
Your resolve was crumbing, you suddenly felt the weight of everything that you’d been holding in starting to break down, “I just… I don’t want to let anyone down,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Hey, come here,” Caitlin reached over and pulled you into a tight hug, “You’re not letting anyone down, kid. We’re so proud of you– so proud. We just need you to take better care of yourself, and we’re not just talking about football here either. We care about you.”
Burying your face in her shoulder, the tears finally spilled, “I’m scared,” You choked out, “I… I don’t know how to stop.”
Katie soon joined the hug, her arms wrapping around both you and Caitlin, “You don’t have to do it alone,” She paused, “We’re here, we’ll help you, but you need to let us in.”
It felt like for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. To let them see just how scared and overwhelmed you really were, with all the added pressure of things.
It now made you realise that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face it all on your own after all.
You could let them in.
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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megamindsecretlair · 2 days
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Hi, beloved! ❤️ Would you be down to write about Terry Richmond using some rope tricks that he learned from his Marine training on reader? 🤭 If not, I completely understand and you’re still amazing !😘
A/N: Forgive me, I know this doesn't technically fit the bill, but this got my mind spinning. Let me know if you want a more faithful response.
Touch Me Like You Care
Pairing: Daddy Dom!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female), fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, lite bondage, overstimulation, reader is able to be picked up, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, rushing.
Summary: See Ask. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog . Terry comes home to find you reading in bed, all thoughts of getting dressed out of your mind as you rest. He was prepared to let you, truly, but then he finds that you’re not wearing the bracelets he bought you. And well, he can’t let that slide, can he?
Word Count: 4,475k
AO3 Link
A/N: @planetblaque knows I can deny her nothing!! Whew, everytime I think I can take a break from this man, ya'll pop out with all of these amazing fics! I'm so over the moon to see so much activity. We fr just tossing this man around like a beach ball and I love that for us!!! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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You pulled your dresser open and searched for your favorite pair of thigh high socks. Ever since the weather turned, you were back to shivering every two seconds, feeling colder than a witch’s broomstick no matter what you did. 
After a refreshing shower, you opted to dry under your blanket hoodie, feeling the need to retreat from having to be “on” all the time. Navigating the world as a Black woman was fucking exhausting. 
You picked up your phone, scrolling through your latest dirty book. There was a subtle increase in Black led romances that were making you stay up to the wee hours of the morning reading. The latest book was absolutely filthy from your favorite author. The anticipation for this book had been immense, the group chat blowing up with speculations and guesses.
The book was getting better, when the couple who swore they hated each other was about to fuck that tension out since fighting got them nowhere. You squealed, picking up the nearest pair of socks. You tore your gaze away long enough to put your socks on.
You looked around the room for your blanket hoodie. It was sitting on the famous chair, piled on top of a mountain of clothing that was near toppling over. You grabbed the hoodie and then checked in on your phone. 
Oh, the tension. The passion. It just ate you up inside when the characters got to that part. Confessing their love in drunken confessions or in the middle of an argument. Ouee, your body was on fire just thinking about it. Your pussy clenching at the details. The rich words creating a movie in your mind’s eye.
Abandoning your hoodie, you laid across the bed and decided to air dry. With the way this book was going, you might need a second shower. You rested your head on your closed fist and let your mind drift, picturing the scene.
You didn’t hear when your boyfriend called your name after he arrived home. Or how his heavy footfalls padded down the hallway to your bedroom. Or how he called your name again when he stood in the doorway. You didn’t hear the subtle camera click as a picture was taken.
Somewhere between the fifth and…counting?... sex scene, you ended up on your tummy, legs high behind you, tapping your socked feet together. You were literally kicking your feet as the characters kept telling each other that they hated each other as they were clutching onto each other for dear life. 
You sighed. You simply ate this shit up. You were already mentally typing up your notes for your review on Goodreads. Ouee, maybe you should start keeping a side notebook. Just to jot down bullet points so your scatterbrained mind didn’t forget a single detail. 
Fingers reached across your ass and you yelped, looking behind you ready to scream. Terry stood behind you, his head tilted and a smirk on his luscious face. You choked out a laugh, rolling to one side so you could look at him better. 
He looked damn good in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Terry slid his fingers absently across your bare ass, tracing the globes up and down. Your body shivered, pussy clenching with need. You gazed at your man. At the smooth planes and lines of his face, the cut of jaw, those big pink lips. 
“You didn’t hear me calling you?” He asked.
You shook your head. “Sorry,” you said, giving him a cutesy grin. 
His lips twitched but he didn’t let himself smile. “You’re not cute. You have to be more aware of your surroundings,” he said. 
“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding. “Though to be fair, the only man getting in here is you.”
“Mhm,” he said, nodding his own head. “You reading your dirty books?” 
“Yes! You remember my favorite author?” You asked. 
Terry nodded, hiking his eyebrow up as he encouraged you to tell him all about your favorite author. And the book you were currently reading. “And I just got to the good part,” you said.
Terry chuckled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. He trailed his fingers between your legs as he moved away and you gasped. For two reasons. On the one hand, Terry’s hands on you always instantly put you in the mood. With your pussy already wet, you were thinking it was a good time for a break. 
On the other hand, you forgot that you had taken off your gifts from him while you showered. It was the only time you were allowed to do so. You meant to put the ankle and thigh bracelet back on when you lotioned up but plum forgot.
Terry stopped and you could feel his stare. It burned in the back of your head. Your heart thumped in your chest. You had no idea what he was going to do.
“Baby,” Terry’s deep timbre was a physical caress down your spine. You stretched your back and bit your lip. 
“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said, pitching your voice higher. 
“Where are your bracelets?” He rubbed his thumb across your thick thigh. The weight of those words pressed down on you, making you want to retreat in your mind. You began to pant, feeling out of sorts. You were so turned on you could barely breathe. But you were also worried about what kind of punishment you were about to receive. 
“I just showered,” you said. You rolled so that you could look at his pretty face. To at least try to gauge where his mind went. Terry stopped you by wrapping his hand around your thigh. 
“I believe you. But you’re out of the shower now,” he said. 
“I really forgot this time,” you said. 
Terry sighed, the sound like a coin drop in an empty room. “You know what we have to do now, right?” He asked.
“You sure I can’t bargain out of this one? I can be pretty cute, you said so,” you said. 
“Up,” he said, his calm voice making matters worse. You may as well have been pleading your case to a brick wall. There was no changing his mind.
You got to your knees and then flipped over, scooting to the edge of the bed. Terry rolled his shoulders as he moved to your closet. He pulled a pine green box down from the top shelf. 
He placed the large, repurposed gift box on your dresser and opened it. Cheery snowmen looked at you from the painted edges as Terry rummaged around. He drew out a pair of leather cuffs and crossed over to you.
You pouted at him as he strapped the cuffs to your wrists. There was a small golden link between them keeping it connected and not giving you much room to escape. You tested the pull on it as you tried to separate your wrists. No dice. 
Terry grabbed the link and pulled you into a standing position. He sighed deeply, his voice a rumbling thunder behind it with a hum as he stared you down. “I had plans to treat you so well when I got back,” he said. 
“Fuck,” you said, the curse flying fast. You rubbed your thighs together, staring up into his pretty colorful eyes. Every time you looked at them, they were a different color. You loved to see the changes, especially this up close. His eyes went more brown when he was like this, when he’d sunk into that role of being in charge. Of being protective. 
He kissed your cheek, softly, reverently, his juicy lips leaving a small wet spot behind. He moved down to your lips, not quite kissing you. He hummed and smirked. “Whatever happens, just know that I love you, okay?” 
“Terry,” you huffed. His name was a plea and a curse all in one. You didn’t know what was worse. Knowing the torture was coming or having to live through it. Your thighs were on fire, burning with the need to have him between them. 
He pulled you closer by the cuffs, kissing you completely this time. He brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, hands warm. You licked his lips and he moaned. “Nice try,” he said against your lips. 
He said that, but you stepped closer, rubbing yourself against his growing bulge. He chuckled, letting you, looking down while you rubbed on him. He grinned and then grabbed your shoulders, turning you around. He pushed you down. You let out a soft oomph, flopping onto the bed. 
He grabbed your hips, pushing you further up your big ass bed. He positioned you how he wanted, close to the edge, but not so close that he didn’t have free range behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you could only hear him moving around behind you.
It sounded like he was rummaging through the goody box again. You sighed. Digging your toes into the bed. “Start reading,” he commanded, voice sharp.
How the hell were you supposed to read anything? You hesitated, looking at your phone. There was no way you’d be able to concentrate and he knew that. 
“Baby,” you said and licked your lips. 
Terry said nothing and again, you felt his gaze bearing down on you. You whimpered as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and swiping back to your phone. You began reading aloud, reading about the sex scene you were in the middle of. 
Reading it aloud to Terry, picturing him as the main male character, you were miserably wet. Dripping practically. You sighed, thinking of your ruined bed. You’d have to spend tonight doing laundry. 
Terry’s massive hand slapped across your ass, the recoil loud enough to rival a gunshot. You squealed, falling forward onto the bed. Heat bloomed between your thighs, warming up your core to a dangerous level. 
It still really fucking hurt though. Your ass stung and you swore that you could feel aftershocks of his hand, slapping across your ass over and over. “Fuck, fuck!” You yelled out. 
“Keep reading,” he said. 
You got back to your knees and arched your back like he positioned you in before. You returned to reading out loud, pussy throbbing at the way the words made you feel. You got to an explicit part when Terry’s hands came back down. He smacked your ass a handful more times, covering a wide area and making your ass light up like a Christmas tree.
Tears welled in your eyes from the pain and the pleasure. It was too much stimulation. “Please, please, fuck me. I can’t take it,” you whimpered. The words on your phone swam in your vision as your body contracted with shivers. Both from the radiating waves of heat and the burn low in your belly. 
Terry rubbed his hands across your ass and you screamed, kneeling away from his hands. Wherever he touched, your ass sang with pain. “Are you going to remember to put your bracelets on?” 
You nodded. “Yes, I swear,” you said. 
Terry shoved his fingers between your legs, plunging right up your pussy. You collapsed onto the bed, twitching. “Mhm, I didn’t give you permission to cum,” he said. 
“Daddy, pleaseeee,” you pleaded, lower belly twinging with the pain of fighting off your orgasm. 
“You can get wetter than this, baby,” he said. 
“I can’t,” you said, drool seeping into the navy covers beneath you. Your face was smashed into the bed, no way to hold yourself up while his fingers stroked your walls. The loud squelching of your pussy, wet because of him, made you clench around his fingers and moan. 
He placed his free hand on your ass, giving you the dual sensation of sweet torture and cruel relief. He moved his fingers faster, stretching you out with his long, thick fingers. You rode yourself on his fingers, throwing it back and he moaned. He smacked your ass more lightly this time, more in encouragement than anything else. 
“Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” you said, legs twitching. You couldn’t hold off any longer. 
Terry leaned down over your body, placing his lips as close to your ear as he could get it. “Nahhh,” he said slowly, a subtle rasp in his voice. You bit your lip and rode him harder, showing him that you needed more. “Gotta earn that shit.” 
You sobbed into your bed, tears streaming freely. You were about to explode. Come undone at the seams. “Daddy, please. Pleaaseee. Pleaaasseeee, ouee, pleeasseee,” you moaned, desperately riding his fingers. 
“You know what Daddy needs,” he said. 
Tears leaked freely, mixing with the drool and pooling onto the covers. Your mind turned to mush, no longer able to keep reading. Your moans were loud and near screaming. Your throat raw with the effort. Your essence flooded his fingers and he hummed in satisfaction. 
“There’s my good girl,” he purred. He suddenly flipped you over, not giving you a chance to work with him. He was too impatient, too needy, too rough as he positioned you on your back. He pushed your arms above your head, giving you a look. You planted your hands above your head and knew better to move them. 
It pushed your breasts up, giving him a total view of your chest. He groaned, eyes tracking to your pert nipples. Terry folded you in half, scooting his thighs beneath your back, holding you spread open for him. 
He placed soft kisses to your wet pussy, lips smacking from your juices. “Baby, I can’t hold it no more,” you said.
“You’re gonna hold it because Daddy told you to,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. You whimpered, whined, trying to breathe through being folded like a pretzel. 
Your toes brushed against the bed with every rocking motion from Terry as he got himself comfortable. He continued kissing your pussy, stopping to look back and stare at your pussy. His lips began to glisten with your essence. 
You groaned, a primal, possessive side of you jumping out. You marked your claim. It was your juices on him. Your essence feeding him. 
“Daddy, please,” you cried out. From this position, you saw his face perfectly. He stared at your pussy like a man possessed. Like a greedy man with the richest treasure in the world. Your heart softened just as your pussy throbbed. 
Terry smirked. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy. She miss me?” He asked. As if you hadn’t gone two and half rounds when you woke up this morning. As if he wasn’t driving you insane nearly every time you got within two feet of each other. 
“Yes, Daddy, she missed you,” you moaned. 
“Yeah? She gon’ be good and cum when I say?” He asked. He stared at you from beneath his long eyelashes framing his stormy blue eyes while his tongue rolled out of his mouth. He used the tip of his tongue to search through your soaked curls, separate your pussy lips, and flick across that little bundle of nerves. 
“Ouee, shit,” you moaned. Sweat beaded on your forehead. Your heart beat so loudly, it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. You huffed, watching his tongue work around your clit. Feeling it was even better. His breath was hot across your pussy, making your breaths stutter in your chest.
His lips followed his tongue, going deeper, playing with the rim of your entrance before dipping his tongue inside you. You cried out, belly fluttering. You moved your hands and Terry’s eyes narrowed. 
Fresh tears leaked from your eyes, dripping down the side of your face. “Pleasseee,” you begged. 
“You’re doing so well, already,” he moaned. He sped up, licking you, eating you, devouring you as he lapped at your pussy. Fresh essence dripped out of you and he licked that up too. He moaned, burying his nose and face into your pussy. He ate like a man starved. Sloppily. Messily. 
“Oue, fuck, ouee,” you screamed.
Terry moved closer, like he was trying to shove his whole face inside of you. His plush lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. 
“Oh fuck! Terry! Terry!” You screamed. Your body began twitching. The orgasm you staved off was coming whether you wanted it to or not. Terry stopped altogether, suspending your body in the midpoint between denial and reprieve. 
Your eyes rolled lazily to him, panting, huffing, body feeling like you had been tossed into a barbeque pit. “T-T-”
Terry tilted his head, tongue flat against your clit. You throbbed and pulsed on his tongue but he didn’t move. Your body retreated from the edge in slow increments, relaxing against him. 
You blinked at him, no longer able to communicate a single thought. Terry’s eyes gleamed with sick pleasure. He hummed, moving his tongue against your clit once more. He brought you to the edge and then denied you the rush of pleasure at the last minute. He did it one more time, letting you relax and then bringing you back to the precipice. 
Your belly cramped so bad. Your mouth stopped working. You couldn’t do anything but pathetically moan as he ate his fill. Your toes brushed against the bed again as he leaned back far enough.
“She too tired now?” He asked.
You shook your head. Furthest thing from it. Terry smirked. “You nice and dumb for me, baby?” He asked. He gave you teasing little licks. You hissed and moaned, eyes aching from how hard you closed them from the torture. 
“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” Terry said, smacking your ass for good measure. It woke you from the fog long enough to nod. 
“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said. 
Terry grinned and then relented, giving in and eating you with a renewed fervor. “You can cum now, baby,” he moaned into your pussy. His tongue and lips teased your clit. His fingers dipped back inside your entrance, coaxing that sweet, sweet orgasm out of you.
You screamed loud enough to wake the dead. Or hell, maybe you joined them. Lights burst behind your eyelids as you came with so much force, you couldn’t breathe. Your pussy ached and throbbed, thighs shaking against Terry’s face as he teased you throughout the whole ride. 
He slowed down as he sensed that you were coming down, drawing out his teasing licks and kisses to your pussy. He pulled back and your essence dripped from his face. He looked like he went swimming in your pussy. His entire jaw was covered, shiny and wet. You wish you could take a picture of him like this.
A long spit chain connected you to him and he moaned, ending on a hiss. “That’s a good fuckin’ pussy,” he huffed as he regained his own breathing. “Turn that ass over.”
Terry lowered you to the bed while he hopped off. He made quick work of his clothes, his huffs and puffs the only indication of how badly he was rushing. You were just a noodle, watching him reveal inches of his bronze skin, the veins in his biceps, the tattoos on his arms.
You traced the tattoos more times than you could count, lips twitching with the urge to do so now. His thighs were equally delicious. As big as tree trunks, a light dusting of hair. And that ass. He turned to the side briefly so he could free his long legs from his underwear and sweats. 
“You are so damn pretty,” you mumbled. 
Terry chuckled. You didn’t think he heard you. “That’s my line,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I told you what you need to be doing.” 
You couldn’t flip over fast enough, giggling. He’d just bent you over and ate you so well, your leg was still wobbly and shaky. Yet you yearned for more. Yearned for his body surrounding you, protecting you, caging you in his embrace. You were greedy. Needing, wanting, craving more. 
Terry descended onto the bed, roughly grabbing your hips and sliding inside with a savage thrust. 
“Oueeee, SHIT, Daddy!” You screamed. He slid out and then slid back in, coating his long dick with your essence. 
“Cream this shit,” he moaned, sliding inside faster. His massive hands gripped your hips and pulled you onto his punishing dick, ramming into you. “Made for me. You were made for me, weren’t you?” He asked.
“Yes, Daddy, I was made for you,” you moaned. He stretched you beautifully, slamming into you just as rough as you wanted. As you needed. 
“Just a pretty, tight hole for me to abuse whenever I want?” He asked.
You sobbed, tears gathering in your eyes once more. He hit that magical spot inside of you, the spot only he could reach. No other man, not even your toys, could hit that spot with such precision. With accuracy. He was just as much made for you. 
“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, voice muffled by the covers. The bed dipped as Terry leaned over, planting a fist beside your head to hold up his weight. He used his other hand to grab a handful of braids and yank, baring your throat to him. 
“I wish you could see how creamy you are. Pretty little ring on my dick. So nice and wet,” he cooed into your ear. He pulled your head back so that he could kiss you. His face smelled like you. You moaned and clenched around his dick. He hissed and then growled in your ear. 
“Filling me so deep, Daddy,” you moaned. “So fuckin’ deep, ohmygoood.”
Terry chuckled. He shifted his hips and drove in deeper, possibly down to his base, as he fucked you into the mattress. Your hands stretched out in front of you, gripping onto the covers just trying to meet his thrusts. 
“Untie me, Daddy. Let me feel you,” you begged. 
Terry responded by kissing you, tongue licking your lips. You opened your mouth and played with his tongue. His beautiful, amazing tongue that was capable of the sweetest words and the filthiest things. 
“You don’t know how to behave when you’re free,” he said against your cheek. 
“I’ll behave, I promise,” you whispered. 
Terry moaned, dick throbbing inside you. “I want to believe you,” he said. 
He kept up his brutal, savage thrusts, digging into you and making your belly clench. “Pleasse, Daddy. I want to feel you,” you moaned. 
“All you need to do is feel this dick, baby. Feel how much you mean to me. How much I want to take care of you,” he said.
Each thrust felt like it was going straight to your heart. There was no way you were still flooding his dick. Still making it easier for him to glide and thrust and stroke so far inside you, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 
“Fuck me so good. So well,” you moaned. 
Terry gripped your hips and then pulled you down harder, faster, rougher. You yelped and squealed, stretched out on the bed, trying to escape. Terry yanked you back, fingers digging into your skin harder. 
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you moaned. Your thighs trembled from trying to hold yourself up from his hold. He kept you in place, filling you, fucking you good and deep. Your eyes rolled back into your head. But still, your body propelled you forward. Both because of his thrusts and because you just couldn’t take any more. All the edging from earlier had you spent. 
“Sit that ass up,” he panted, breaths falling across your damp back. 
“C-Can’t,” you stuttered. 
Terry grunted and pulled you by the hair until you were on your knees. He sat on his haunches, continuing to pound inside you. 
“You keep telling me what you can’t do. But all this time you been takin’ this dick and doing what Daddy tell you to. Do you know how proud I am of you? So pretty when you listen,” he moaned. 
“Fuck, Daddy, please,” you moaned. 
Terry grabbed your arms and pulled it until the cuffs went over his head. It made you thrust out your chest and he grabbed your titties, playing with your sensitive nipples. He pinched and plucked as he fucked you, kissing your neck and biting your shoulder. 
Your pussy made smacking noises on his dick, sounding thick and creamy. You moans mingled in the room, mixing with the pound of the headboard against the wall. You were constantly getting little dents in it from the force of your lovemaking. It was too much. You tried to sit on his lap but he grunted.  “Mhm,” he said, pulling you into a kneeling position one more time. 
“If I gotta stand you up one more time, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he snapped. 
You whimpered and whined but concentrated on holding yourself up. His dick slammed into your walls while he kissed your neck. One hand gripped your titty and squeezed while his other hand searched lower, rubbing two fingers against your pussy. 
You screamed out, unable to hold off this one. It gobbled you up with the force of it. Tearing you down to your roots, breaking you down to your center, to the very last atom that makes you you. You cried out, shaking, twitching. 
Your vision turned black and your right ear rung with a tinny bell as you came and came in rolling waves. One triggered another for an extended orgasm, body jerking uncontrollably. 
“Cum so pretty,” he said. “You ready for this nut?” 
You could only manage a nod as he rolled his shoulders and moaned in your ear while he came, unloading a thick load of cum inside of you. 
There was no more air in your lungs enough to moan. You could only sigh as he warmed you up from the inside, soaking your walls with his cum. Nothing leaked out as he continued to stroke into you.
Your body arched as he stilled, buried to the hilt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your jaw. He brought the fingers he used to play with your clit up to your mouth and bid you to suck. 
“Taste that?” He asked.
You nodded. Too spent, too tired, to fucked out to do anything else but yawn. Terry chuckled, and slipped out. His cum leaked out with him, sliding down your leg and dripping onto the bed. 
“Sleepy,” you mumbled.
“I know, baby. But let’s run you a bath first and I’ll change these sheets,” he said. He lowered your arms from his neck and then laid you on your side. He gave you a kiss on your forehead. 
“Don’t let me catch you without your bracelets again,” he said.
“Yes, Big Daddy,” you yawned, stretching out onto the bed to await his tender, loving aftercare.
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WHEW. If you need more like I do, here ya gooo! The Secret Terry Richmond Files
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loudclan-clangen · 12 hours
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Loudclan - Moon 29: Part 2
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Back in camp, the warm weather gives the healers a chance to relax, and puts Wildfirecry in a particularly good mood, reminding him of his former home in Forestclan, far to the south.
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Wildfirecry takes Songpaw out to look for Fiercestripe's patrol. Along the way they discuss what's really been on Songpaw's mind.
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The scent of blood sits heavy in the still air. With Songpaw sent back to camp for help, Wildfirecry steels his nerves and rushes ahead, prepared to join the battle against whomever had made the mistake of tresspassing onto Loudclan's territory. As he neared the Loudclan border, though, it became clear that the battle was long finished.
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Fiercestripe, Chumtail, Dogwoodmoth, and Dashpaw were killed in the rogue attack, taking 4 of their attackers with them. Rosehiptree managed to survive by staying hidden in the bushes, but she is by no means unscathed. Loudclan is devastated by this event, and will need time to mourn, but on the other side of the valley, three trespassers thank the stars for whatever might have delayed their pursuers.
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[...so ... how are we feeling about this one, folks? bad? yeah, I feel bad. full disclosure, if Eklutna dying was the moon that I decided I wanted to keep playing Loudclan, this was the moon that almost made me quit. I was and continue to be DEVASTATED by losing these guys, Fierce, Dogwood, and Chum were some of my all time favorites as I played and I fell in love all over again writing their stories here. (Sorry Dash, you just weren't around long enough for me to get attached.) In game technically Fiercestripe died of heatstroke, but since it was the same moon as the rogue attack this felt like a much more fitting way for her to go. Anyway, I think one more part should wrap up this moon, and my deepest apologies to you all.]
First Moon
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lovelookspretty · 2 days
Text
lover of mine
drew starkey x actress!reader au
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— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.
warnings: a really long chapter part thing i fear . kisses .. maybe .. IM NOT SPOILING THIS
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authors note: erm guys .. if im rushing this then do NOT pay attention !! I WANT THEM TO BE OKAY AGAIN JUST LIKE U GUYS I FEAR. I CANT HELP MYSELF. but do NOT think this is the end because this is NOT!! we still have to get through the rest of the second week + the wedding. and if u think about it, DAMN a lot happened in week 1 omg goodnight
anyway, if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3333
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you keep your distance from him the next two days. you know you have to face him, and sometimes you do, but you’re stiffer than before. he knows better than anyone to maintain that gap until you’re okay again.
it just feels like your breakup with him all over again, but this time, for a different reason other than having too much time apart. this time, you’re all he spends time with but there just happens to be something getting in the way of that. another girl. it isn’t fair.
drew’s been trying to show in little ways that he’s sorry, but it doesn’t cut it for you. not yet. and you don’t want to lead him by a string and take advantage of him caring about you. but him bringing you breakfast, then trying to avoid you throughout the day until you’re back in libby’s bed again—it’s just frustrating.
you don’t even want to be there anymore. you don’t want to have to deal with this. but it’s for leila and theo, their day is coming up soon. you just want them to have a good time and then you can all separate ways and live your own lives again. how it’s always been and how it should be.
the guys are getting ready to visit town while the girls stay back. this isn’t for you though, and you’re grateful. gia proposed a self-care day after a package was shipped to the home, a large box of cookies, and safe to say you all agreed to the plan.
“i’ve been trying to get back into reading but i feel like i have no time sometimes,” leila’s telling you and the girls as you set up shop at the kitchen island.
there’s an array of face masks, moisturizers, rollers, oils, creams, other things they’ve wanted to try. gia even brings her diffuser and places it nearby as the tv in the living room plays.
“i recommend ‘doomsday’!” libby perks up from across the table. “i read it last summer and let me tell you, i bawled crying for a month straight.”
“y/n, you read,” leila says as she files her nails, crossing a leg over another. “what are your recommendations?”
“hey,” theo greets leila as he and the boys join you four at the table, each with their respective girlfriend besides libby and oscar, and technically you and drew. he hovers behind you but just merely nods his head to say hello. “we’re gonna head out.”
“oh, okay,” leila says with a small frown, but kisses him goodbye. “drive safe, alright?” you’re winking at roman who points at you to say to behave, but he kisses gia’s cheek before he’s following theo out.
you answer leila from earlier with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting to find ‘the last love letter’ but i haven’t really been reading lately. been too busy.”
gia mouth gapes open as she slams her hand on the table, nearly knocking something over. “shut up, i’ve been wanting to read that too!” she shrieks as libby tells her to be more careful.
you can only giggle at her while she gets off her seat and comes up behind you to pull your hair and tie it back.
“that book is literally nowhere, i swear the author only made like five copies of it.”
“have you guys read ‘self sabotage’?” leila asks as she and libby, already prepared, begin to place their face masks on.
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you’re on the couch with the girls as libby records you on her phone. the box of cookies are opened and after careful review, you’ve all decided what to try first and what comes after that, and so on.
“now?” you ask libby if she’s ready, and she nods. you, leila, and gia take a cautious bite out of the pieces you’ve broken off of the first cookie. it only takes you a few chews in to realize how heavenly it is. gia even pretends to faint beside you.
“holy shit,” leila says as she covers her mouth, taking a look at the cookie with wide eyes. “are you serious?”
libby lunges at you with her phone to take it from her, “well now i wanna try it!”
you’re in a fit of laughter as you try to turn the camera around before she can sink her teeth in, but she’s too fast. your eyes widen at the girl, “libby, slow down!”
and eventually, you’re full of cookies and half of them are still yet to be tried. you agree with the girls to continue this matter tomorrow if the boys don’t eat it all themselves, and you know they will. you’re just glad you’ve already tried all the ones you really wanted to before then.
when the guys get home, it’s exactly what you anticipated. they bee line directly to the cookies on the coffee table, but not without greeting you all first.
theo groans as he takes a bite, roman right beside him to stuff a whole chunk in his mouth. “this is better than sex,” he murmurs while roman snaps his fingers several times. leila can’t help but nod in agreement.
“i feel cookie-drunk,” you say with your hand on your stomach, and gia curls up into your side as she holds onto hers. “what’d you guys get?”
roman is quick to reach into his bag and pull out a couple of keychains, as if he just got reminded about something. he tosses one at gia’s head, and you look over to see what it is.
“the world’s okayest girlfriend,” she reads aloud, and she chucks it back at him, no longer accepting the gift that roman laughs about. she gets up to see what else is in his bag, leaving drew to plop down next to you and libby, who’s on the other side of you this whole time.
she’s cleaning the ice cream off her spoon when she speaks up for you and her, “what’d you get?”
“few things,” he says as he lets you look inside for yourself.
you pull out a long box and open it. it’s a chain bracelet, sterling silver. it’s nice, and you nod with raised brows. there’s other things inside that you only glance at, but when you look up at him you notice the new pair of sunglasses that’s resting on his head.
you pull it off of him silently and place it on yourself, unspokenly thanking him for the temporary gift you’ll give back later but you like them so now they’re yours for a few hours.
drew purses his lips and closes his bag, assuming you’re done, so he gets up and starts heading upstairs. you look over at libby. without hesitation, she asks, “you okay?”
you hesitate, and you know she’s only asking this because this is one of drew’s brief interactions with you since a few days ago. but you shrug it off, “yeah, i’m okay,” you say.
libby doesn’t miss a beat, she’s not convinced at all. she knows you well enough to understand what ‘im okay’ really means is ‘i’ll be okay’. that it’s not okay, but it will be eventually.
she’s seen this look on you before, during the hardest parts of your relationship with drew. she can feel the unspoken words between them, the ones you don’t even need to say out loud.
“right,” libby says with a soft sigh. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “you’ll be alright,” she whispers. you know she won’t pry further, but knowing that whatever drew did, it was enough to hurt you again.
after a few moments, she pulls back and, with a small smile, asks, “wanna help me with dinner soon? leila thought it’d be nice to eat out in the backyard tonight, by the pool.”
you hum softly, nodding your head, “yeah, that sounds good.”
libby grins, “awesome. ‘cause it’s pizza night and i cannot do it alone.”
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the next few hours blur together. you’ve successfully prepared the pizzas with libby and slid them into the oven. now you’re cutting into them and displaying them outside on the table.
it used to be bare, but someone since morning has gone out there to help decorate the backyard to make it just a little flashier. there’s a cloth on the table, which is scattered with candles, flowers, dishes, platters of cookies, fruits, a charcuterie board, and there’s a helpful variety of drinks.
fairy lights blink across the backyard, even over the pool, and it illuminates the whole place. you place the different pizzas in between each candle piece, which libby lights as you do. when you call everyone outside, you join together at the table.
and once theo leads you once again with the ‘i’m grateful for my future wife’ shit, you get to dig in. you’re pretty sure it was longer this time around and even roman started to just eat until he was kicked under the table by drew.
“fucking finally,” libby murmurs under her breath after theo concludes his speech, to which causes him to pick up an olive off the plate and toss it at her. “yeah, you’re so lucky i like olives,” she whispers to herself as she rearranges her napkin, “fucking loser.”
“libby,” you scold, though you can’t hide your laugh. she’s grinning when she looks up, silently laughing with you.
when you turn to drew on the other side of you, he’s taking large bites from his slice. he tilts his head back with a groan, then takes a longer look at the pizza as he chews.
“s’it good?” you ask, and he nods rapidly, and soon his body moves with it. you bring yourself to smile, grateful that people you care about like what you’ve cooked.
you reach over to take your own slice from each pizza and just stack it on your plate, planning on going through them one by one from the one on too being the one you least want to eat, and the last at the bottom being the one you’re most excited for—a ‘save the best for last’ type of thing. it’s silly but you do it anyway.
drew’s finishing up his bite when he leans into you gently. “i have to talk to you later, by the way,” he says, and it sort of startles you because at this point you’re just talking to libby.
you look at him with furrowed brows, but again, you’re not mad. you’re not upset with him. at least not in this moment, you can’t be.
and it looks like he’s grateful because he can see it too. “if that’s alright with you,” he says, then takes another bite. you just nod at him in silence, and watch as he turns back to oscar who’s on his other side before talking to him.
you look straight ahead where roman’s sitting, and he sends you a look. he heard drew talking to you, he knows it must be about something important, but it’s not what’s on your mind right now.
you shrug it off. “—tell you later,” you mouth to him, then turn to libby when you realize she’s talking to you again.
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after dinner, gia and leila clean dishes while literally all of the guys clean up outside as a thank you to you and libby, who lay across the living room with bellies filled with food.
there’s a movie playing on tv that you can barely pay attention to, but you’ve been laying there for about an hour so if you really want to, you could. you just play into the laziness that you’re allowed.
you hold your phone above you as libby rolls around the carpet, or at least that’s what you last saw her doing before you looked away. you’re scrolling through texts with your manager as if a new message will come in.
“did elyse get back to you?” libby asks, a face-full of carpet and it sounds like she’s just a few feet away. “about the thing.”
“no,” you mumble, then turn your phone off and set it face-down on the carpet, just like libby. the side of your head is laying on your arm as you look at her. “i could go for another cookie.”
“you ate three!” libby’s muffled voice raises.
“and i’ll make it four,” you tell her, raising your volume back. you consider getting up but don’t feel like it. you can actually lay here forever—maybe.
“y/n,” you hear his voice. it’s drew.
and you get up immediately. he was so softspoken, so cautious with you. he’s entering the house with the other boys who must’ve finished outside, meaning it’s time to have his talk. you almost ask if you guys can just have it there if it’s not that important, but if that’s possible then he wouldn’t be trying to get you alone.
you look over to libby, who—at the sound of drew’s voice—peeked her eyes out to see what he wanted. she looks to you, and she understands why you have to go. she convinces herself to get up and find the remote so she can turn the volume up.
you know it’s for you and drew, and a part of you wants to nudge her or be offended, and you do. is this going to be normal behavior in the house? turning up the volume just for you and drew when you guys need to have these ‘talks’ that are just screaming practice in disguise?
you’re almost embarrassed but you know that you’d rather have this than let them hear you two upstairs.
you follow him to your room, or technically his room as of three nights ago, and he lets you inside first. there’s a chilling feeling when you realize what’s about to happen and you feel like he’s literally about to murder you.
the room is clean, for the most part. you didn’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t take care of this room regardless if you’re in it or not. his bed isn’t made and his backpack’s on the edge of it, opened and rifled through.
you look to him when you’ve entered, and he nods toward the bed, as if to say he would rather you sit there while you listen to what he has to say, so slowly, you make your way over and settle down on the edge.
drew pulls out a chair from the desk across the bed and turns it around, pushing it closer to you. you’re surprised that he’s doing a whole setup just to talk to you. maybe he really is going to kill you.
“i haven’t been honest at all . . . since we started talking again,” he begins as he sits down in front of you. you stay there and close your mouth. you want to hear what he has to say, even if it ends terribly. you need to hear what he’s been thinking. “so i’d like to tell you everything about this past year if you’re okay with that.”
you shrug and gesture to let him have the floor. “please,” you insist with a nod.
he sighs as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “there’s . . . mila," he starts, and even though you knew this conversation was coming, it still stings when you hear her name.
“i guess you could call it a situationship or whatever,” he says before he catches himself, realizing how that sounds. “i mean, to me, it felt like that. but i think—” he pauses, chewing on his words. “no, she definitely saw it as more. she always viewed it as a relationship.” he glances at you, watching for your reaction, but you just sit there, waiting.
he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. “we just weren’t on the same page. i was . . . i was using it to distract myself, if i’m being honest. and i know that’s not fair. i knew it even then. but it felt easier than than facing what i was actually feeling at the time.”
he continues, “i told myself it was nothing, but i knew, deep down, it wasn’t fair to her. she didn’t deserve to be strung along like that.”
you feel your chest tighten, but not from jealousy. it’s you knowing that someone else had been hurt in this too, someone who had clearly thought there was more between them. “does she know? about this?” you ask him.
he flinches slightly, as if the concern you’re showing for mila makes this even harder to explain for him. he hesitates, “i officially ended things with her three nights ago. the night you confronted me about her. i told her it was over, that i couldn’t keep pretending things were fine when they weren’t. she didn’t take it well. and honestly, i don’t blame her.”
you’re quiet for a moment—so he’s decided to keep you and him a secret from mila? to spare both his and her feelings? you aren’t sure if you should bring light to it or just push it aside. you did say before that it was ultimately his decision.
“i’m glad you told her,” you say carefully, but there's a pause before you add, "but i can’t imagine how confusing this must be for her.” you shift in your seat, rubbing your palms on your knees. “i mean, from her perspective, this whole thing must feel like it came out of nowhere.”
he swallows hard, nodding. “yeah, it wasn’t fair to her. not at all.”
there’s a beat. he looks at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. “i told her about you,” he says. he’s quiet, as if he’s afraid of the confession. “i told her that i’m . . . that i’m still not over you. that i don’t think i ever really was.”
what?
you blink, startled by his words, though in a way, you’re not entirely surprised. you’ve felt the tension between you two from the moment you started talking again, but hearing him admit it, finally saying it out loud . . .
his voice is rough, like he’s forcing himself to continue. “but that’s why things with mila were never real. not for me, at least. i kept telling myself i could move on, that i could just forget, but every day i’d realize i wasn’t. i couldn’t let go of you.”
“but you broke up with me, drew,” you remind him. “that doesn’t necessarily sound like you’re in love with me.”
“i didn’t break up with you because i didn’t love you,” he says, his brows furrowed. “i do, more than i’ve ever loved anyone else.” his eyes meet yours briefly before dropping to his hands, which he’s fiddling with in his lap. “like, it was the opposite. i felt like i wasn’t enough for you. like i was failing you.”
you feel your breath hitch in your throat, but you don’t interrupt. you sit up on the bed.
he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. “our jobs, the schedules, the distance . . . it was tearing us apart, you know? and every day, i’d think about how i wasn’t giving you what you deserved. we were supposed to click, supposed to last, but i felt like i was just holding you back.” his voice is quiet, and he rubs his forehead slowly. “and i couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me when i could never give you the time you needed. it was eating me alive.”
you stay quiet, but tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his words hit hard, and you feel like everything that was left unsaid was finally coming to light now—there were arguments that could’ve been avoided, the misunderstandings that built up. he was overthinking, spiraling, and instead of talking to you, he made the decision for both of you.
“and i just kept thinking, like . . . ‘she deserves someone who can be there for her, really be there. someone who can come home to her every night’. i wasn’t that guy. i’d go days without seeing you, weeks even, and it broke me.” he swallows hard again, shaking his head. “i convinced myself that you’d be happier with someone else. someone who wasn’t always on some stupid set, always busy.”
your heart aches as you watch him, his guilt written all over his face. you lean forward and whisper, “but you don’t get to decide that for me, drew. we make decisions together. or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”
“i know,” he mutters, his tone regretful. “i know that now. but back then, i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought i was . . . protecting you, i guess. from me.”
you shake your head, wiping at the tears that are now falling freely. “protecting me from you? drew, i never, ever wanted anyone else. i wanted you. i didn’t care about the schedules, or the distance. i would’ve waited, and we could’ve figured it out. together.”
his eyes finally meet yours again, and for the first time, you can see the depth of his regret. “when we broke up, i tried. god, i tried to move on. i tried to find something, you know? but i was always looking for you.” he takes a shaky breath. “every girl i met, i’d compare them to you. i’d look for pieces of you in them, trying to find something familiar, something that felt right. but it never worked.”
you knew he had tried to move on, but hearing that he was always searching for you in others, that no one ever compared. it leaves you speechless for a moment. if that’s what happened, then why invest so much time into mila?
you finally gather the courage to ask, “mila. did she . . . was she like me?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but you need to know.
“no,” he admits, shaking his head. “not really. mila was cool, and she’s . . . she’s great in her own way. but no. she wasn’t like you.” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. "but i remember i wanted her to be."
he didn’t try to replace you with mila, but it was clear that he had been searching for something, anything, to fill the void you left behind. and it never worked.
“no one’s ever going to compare to you, y/n,” he continues, “i realize that now. it took me a while, but i’ll always search for you in everyone, and it’s never going to be the same. it’ll never feel the way it felt with you."
for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally getting the truth. the real, unfiltered truth about why things ended the way they did. he wasn’t running because he didn’t care. he was running because he thought he wasn’t enough for you. and now, he’s sitting here, telling you everything he couldn’t say before.
“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now, on the verge of crying. “i’m sorry for walking away. for not talking to you about it when i should’ve. i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you, and scared that i never would be.”
you can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, but there’s also a strange sense of closure. you’ve needed to hear this for so long, to understand why things fell apart the way they did. and now, you finally do.
“i messed up,” he says, “i messed up everything, and i know it. but i never stopped loving you and i’m . . . i’m still in love with you.”
you stay silent, blinking away the burn in your eyes, trying to absorb what he’s saying. part of you feels relief, but another part of you is cautious. you’ve been hurt before like this. by another and by him.
he watches you closely, and it feels like the longer the silence is, the more anxious he gets. “i know this doesn’t fix anything, and i’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. i just needed to tell you the truth. i needed you to know that mila . . . ? mila was never you. no one is.”
the room feels too small suddenly, too full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with. you take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, but all you can manage to say is, “why now, drew? why are you telling me this now?”
his gaze softens, “because i didn’t want to lose you again. not without you knowing the truth.”
you can only look down at your lap. your vision blurs as you try to focus on your fingers, interlocked and tense in your lap, the pressure in your chest is tightening by the second.
you don’t trust yourself to speak just yet, so you hold everything in, to find the right words, but nothing comes out.
when you finally lift your head to look at him, the tears are already pooling in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over, but it’s useless. without saying anything, he stands up and pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.
you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as your face presses into his chest, and it’s like the dam inside you finally breaks. the tears fall freely now, your body shaking as you cling to him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you—something you’ve missed so desperately.
and it’s not just about the last few days. it’s about the past year of missing him, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. and you can tell drew needed this too. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to hold together everything that’s broken between you both.
you stay like that for a long time, the sound of your quiet sobs muffled by his chest, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back as if to soothe the ache inside you. it’s a comfort you haven’t felt in so long, and it is exactly what you’ve needed.
toward the end of it, your face still pressed against his chest, you mumble something, your words half muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he loosens his hold just a little, enough for you to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe. “i . . .” you take a shaky breath, your hands still gripping his arms, and when you finally meet his eyes again, you whisper, “i never stopped loving you either.”
the words hang between you, raw and honest, and as soon as you say them, you see the way his expression softens, like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting to hear.
his lips crash into yours, urgent and insistent. his fingers tighten against the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. his lips coax yours open, deepening the kiss, and he swallows the whimper that escapes you.
his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on the bed. he kisses you like he's been starved of you, his tongue swirling against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your face, your neck, your hair. this is what he’s been waiting to do.
his hands trail down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “stay with me tonight?”
you can’t get enough of him, and although you know that everything can’t be completely fixed over just one conversation, sleeping and waking up in the same bed as him isn’t hurting anyone.
you nod, a soft smile on your face that causes him to grin. but he pulls away slowly hesitating for a moment, his smile growing a little wider as he reaches past you into his backpack, his fingers rummaging around as if he’s searching for something precious.
you watch him, curiosity bubbling inside you. what could he possibly have?
“hold on,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and filled with warmth, and you smile as you press another kiss to his.
finally, he pulls out a book, holding it out toward you with a look of pure joy on his face. you take a look at it but almost don’t even catch it the first time until a second later. your heart skips a beat as you recognize it—the last love letter.
“shut up,” you say, taking it into your own hands to see if it’s real. and of course it is.
he nods, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “i heard you talking about it with the girls before we left earlier,” he explains, but he knows you can tell already that much. there’s a goofy look on his face as he wipes underneath one of his eyes. “i knew how much you wanted it and i saw a copy in town, so . . .”
“no, shut up. i can’t take this,” you exclaim, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “star.” the words spill out, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. it’s not just the gift; it’s the thought behind it that strikes a chord deep within you. you trace the cover with your fingertips as if it’s a treasured artifact.
he watches you intently. “i wanted to,” he assures you. “i heard it, i thought it would mean something to you.”
your gaze shifts from the book to him. “thank you, it does,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you blink out a few more tears.
you set the book aside momentarily, throwing your arms around him once again. the embrace feels like a lifeline. you hold him tightly, your heart racing as you bury your face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.
he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. the world outside fades away, and in this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, a bubble of intimacy where everything feels right again.
after a long pause, as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can see the softness in his eyes. “you really didn’t have to do this,” you say again, looking down at the brand new book. “but it means the world to me that you did.”
he grins, “i know it’s just a book, but i wanted to show you that i’m here—like, really here this time.” and you are so glad he is.
“i missed this,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
he closes his eyes for a moment, and you continue to explore the pages of the book, though your thoughts keep drifting back to him. aw you run your fingers through his hair, it dawns on you how much you've missed this—this connection, this easy banter, the comfort of being together.
“i missed us,” you finally admit, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right again. it all floods back to you.
he shifts slightly, leaning in closer, and his arms slide to wrap around your waist as he lays his head on your shoulder to take a look at your book with you, his voice in relief as he mumbles, “me too.”
and you’re happy, it all just feels like your dream again.
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pretentious-blonde · 2 days
Text
meet the parents
pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: steve didn't expect things to go smoothly when he introduced you to his parents, but nothing could have prepared him for the rage he felt when they turned their comments towards you
warnings: family drama, alcohol, steve feeling inadequate, steve's father sucks here
a/n: idk if i like how this turned out, but I tried my best
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You tugged at the hem of your dress, giving your outfit a once over in the mirror for the last time. You had spent ages rummaging through your wardrobe before you found this one, it’s simple but elegant—enough to make a good impression on Steve’s parents. Whom you were meeting for the first time, tonight. 
They had been nagging him since they returned from their trip, one of many, wanting to meet the girl who he had been seeing in their absence. They insisted on inviting you over for dinner, and based on Steve’s reaction, you knew how much this meant to him. You wanted to look your best. 
The knock on your front door pulls you away from your thoughts. You quickly grab your jacket and scurry down the stairs, slipping your feet into a pair of shoes as you go to greet him. 
He is standing on your front porch, hands buried deep in his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. He reverts his attention to the sound of the door opening. His breath catches in his throat as he drinks in the sight of you, his previous nerves are momentarily replaced with awe at your appearance. God, you looked angelic. 
The world seems to still as he unapologetically stares. The gentle curve of a nervous smile on your lips, the dress hugging your figure just right—it takes a great deal of strength on his behalf not to call the whole thing off. To whisk you away for the evening all to himself, leaving his parents to dine alone. He swallows hard as he composes himself, running a hand through his hair as a lopsided grin graces his features. 
“Honey, you…wow.” He begins, any words that entered his mind seemed unable to articulate how beautiful you looked tonight. “You look amazing.”
A blush creeps up your neck at the compliment, it’s endearing how he still gets tongue-tied around you. “Thanks. Thought I should put in a little effort.”
His fingers twitch at his sides as he faces another dilemma. Wanting to reach out and pull you close, push you back inside and be selfish, but he shoves them deeper into his pockets instead. The anxiety he was feeling about the night ahead was overwhelming, he was dreading it—dreading the way his father would most likely find something to dig at, something to put him down. 
But looking at you now, all dolled up for his sake, he hates it even more. 
He hates that you put effort in for this, when it could have gone to something so much more worthwhile. It was the story of his life, trying so hard time and time again to get their approval, only to be shot down over and over again. He didn’t want to subject you to that. 
The drive there is strangely quiet, except for the faint hum of the radio station that fills the car. His grip on the steering wheel is tighter than it usually was, his eyes trained on the road ahead. His thoughts, however, were miles away. Questions filled his mind about what could happen. What they could say to you. If they made you uncomfortable. Each one was worse than the last, the stress made his chest tighten. 
He brushes them off. How could they not love you like he did? When you’re sitting all pretty beside him, looking so damn perfect. In every way that he is not. 
“You seem quiet,” you say, trying to break the silence. “So, are your parents like, super strict or something?”
He chuckles, but it’s nervous. He has told you bits and pieces about what his family is like. Constant business trips that his mother insisted on tagging along to, holidays without him, calling a few times throughout the week. He had failed to mention how much of a dick his dad could be, especially after a couple drinks. 
“Nah, I mean, they’re not…strict.” His fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel. “They’re old-fashioned. Like, ‘everything has to be perfect’ kind of way, you know?”
You nod along slowly, mood still playful, not quite picking up on the nerves flowing through the boy next to you. “Damn, I should have brought something, or even baked, huh?”
He laughs now, but the tension still remains in his shoulders. “Honestly, you might be their favourite person after tonight if you did that. I’m pretty sure they like you more than me.”
Your expression falters slightly at that, smile dropping as you reach over to squeeze his hand. “Steve, come on. There is no way that’s true.”
He doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes forward. 
She has no idea.
“Well, if they don’t like me, I’ll get them with my dazzling personality. You fell for it, right?”
That earns you a genuine smile. Yes, he fell for it. He fell damn hard and welcomed it fully. That is why he loathed the idea of bringing you home. Of subjecting you to this dinner. 
“Yeah, you got me good, angel.” He squeezes your hand back. “Hook, line, and sinker.”
His raw honesty renders you silent for a few moments, turning your face to the view outside to hide the flush in your cheeks. He always knew how to do that. Say something so nonchalant that made your knees weak. 
“Just a heads up,” he glances over to you briefly, hand still resting in his as you pull into the driveway of his home. “Just if they say anything…weird, don’t take it seriously.”
“Steve,” you pull your hand away to cup his face, big, brown eyes staring back at you as you reassure him. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
He wants to believe you. He wants to believe you so badly, but the feeling in his stomach only tightens more. In truth, he has no idea how this evening will go. And that terrifies him. 
Steve rounds the car to open your door, holding onto your waist as you head up the stairs to the entrance. He opened the door quietly, stepping aside to let you in. He pauses to take a look at you one last time, almost melting at how the entryway light falls over your face, illuminating your tender smile. He quickly moves to help you with your coat, sliding it off your figure with gentle movements and hanging it on the rack. 
“Shoes too,” he whispers, almost apologetic, his hand gently guiding your gaze toward the carpeted floor.
He had never asked you that before. You raise a brow, amused but willing to comply. “I didn’t realize there was a dress code,” you tease lightly, holding his shoulder and slipping out of your shoes.
He chuckles nervously. “Yeah, just… don’t want you getting into trouble.”
You scrunch your nose at him and smile, but there is something else brewing behind those eyes of his—worry perhaps? You just chalk it up to innocent nerves. I mean, who wouldn’t be slightly anxious to introduce their partner to their parents?
Leading you down the hall, you are greeted with the smell of roast chicken wafting from the kitchen. It’s surprisingly homey, comforting. Tonight might not be so bad after all. 
You step into the dining room, just opposite the open plan kitchen, first locking eyes with Steve’s mother. She gives you a warm smile, which you return. She looks just like him, same eyes, same smile, same kind expression that he always gives you. Her hands are busy on the stove but still when you enter. 
“Oh, you must be Steve’s girlfriend!” She says, her voice cheerful as she wipes her hands on a rogue teatowel. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”
“Thank you so much for having me,” beaming as you step forward, leaving Steve’s side for a second. “Everything smells amazing.”
Steve’s dad makes himself known, giving you a curt nod. He sits at the head of the table, relaxed with a beer in his hand which Steve spots immediately. “Glad you could make it,” he tells you, his voice low, but not unkind—for now at least. 
Steve returns to your side once more, a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you to a seat at the table. This is good, he thinks, allowing a small flicker of hope to spark in his chest. You’re being your usual polite self, and so far, his parents seem…normal. He feels relaxed as his mother places the perfectly roast chicken at the centre of the table, letting out a small breath as he sits down. 
“Oh my gosh,” you exclaim, your face lighting up at the spread. “I love a roast! It’s been so long since I’ve had one.”
His mother blushes, clearly pleased by your praise. “Well, I’m glad to hear it! There is plenty here so please, help yourself.” 
You nod as you pick up the plate of potatoes, Steve picking up the greens, locking eyes as you swap them over. You are pleasantly surprised to see his expression, no longer sour with anxiety. 
“Bet it’s nice to have a home-cooked meal, huh?” Steve’s father takes a swig from his drink before gesturing to the boy at your side. “Kid barely knows how to boil water.”
He lets out a large laugh at his joke, oblivious to the way Steve pauses as he sets down the plate. He forces out a laugh as well, trying to shake it off, but he can’t deny how the joke stings. Especially when it was made in front of you. 
“I mean, I can handle the basics,” he chimes in, trying to defend himself as much as he can without insulting his father. “Eggs, pasta…” He trails off. 
You allow your gaze to wander over to him, your smile faltering as you catch the hurt look in his eyes. His father doesn’t seem to notice—or care at all, really. 
He can cook, he thinks as his eyes are trained on his father. He has cooked for you so many times, and you always said how good it was. The first moment you complimented his food he made it his mission to do it more often. It was something he took pride in. He had to teach himself after all, it’s not like they were ever around to do it, and he couldn’t just live off takeaway pizzas every night. 
He never was in the kitchen when they returned home, his mother always took the reigns there. His jaw tightens as he recalls the countless dinners made alone in his house, too used to the silence that always followed his parents’ absence. 
You set the fork down to the side of your place and turn to him, giving him a look of reassurance that does little to help him. You don’t speak up, but the mix of emotions in your expression makes Steve’s heart lurch. He should have said something, warned you more. Or better yet, come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t make it tonight. 
His mother was equally as oblivious to the exchange as she carved off another piece of chicken. He doesn’t really care about what his family says about him, he has dealt with much much worse. But it still stings. It stings because it is in front of you. 
The conversation flows well as you all settle into the meal. The chicken was undeniably delicious, the familiar setting of the Harrington house helped soothe you as you chatted politely with is mother. 
“So, what is it you do?” She asks you, tone genuinely curious. 
You finish chewing, wiping your mouth with a napkin before you respond. “I just finished college actually. And I recently got an editing job at the local newspaper. It’s helped me get my first apartment too, so it’s a pretty exciting time.”
Steve can’t help but sit up a little straighter as you speak, his chest filling with a sense of pride that this is the woman he is introducing his folks to. 
That’s my girl, my smart girl.
“Well, isn’t that wonderful!” His mother says, clearly impressed. “You must be so proud of yourself.”
Steve smiled at the knowledge that they approved of you. They might not have approved of him, they made that clearly known whenever they had the chance, but seeing how impressed they were with you—that was enough. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his own and admiring how they looked intertwined in the glow of the dining room. His thumb strokes your knuckles, feeling a smug satisfaction rise up inside of him. You’re smart, capable independent. Everything Steve’s parents valued in a person. He might not be what they wanted him to be but he somehow had you to show for it. He was damn lucky to have you here with him. 
A voice cuts through the warmth he was feeling, a sharp edge bringing him down from his high. “Well, good for you,” his father said, his eyes drifting to your hands. His gaze was cold, calculating. “You know, I’ve always said people with drive go far. Funny how some manage to make it whilst others…don’t.” He gasts a glance at Steve, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm, the same voice that had followed him his whole life. “Guess you lucked out, huh, son? Dating someone with actual ambition.”
The comment hit Steve harder than he cared to admit, the jovial tone from his father did little to soften the blow. His chest tightens as he feels the sting of disappointment, but he can’t help but take the words on board. You are ambitious, you have the whole world at your fingertips. You could do anything you set your mind to and he knew that. He just hoped that when that time came, he would be lucky enough to be cheering you on from the sidelines. 
“Yeah, well,” he begins with a crooked grin. “Guess I’ve got the charm at least.”
The shift in his mood is noticeable to you, you can read him like the back of your hand, the way his smile remains on his face for just a second too long. His father's words were not just a joke, not to Steve. He always doubted himself and his abilities, worried about where he would go in his life. But at the end of the day you were there to support him, whatever decisions he made were his and his alone. 
He tells himself that it’s fine, that he can handle it. Just as long as they don’t go after you, he can take it. He has no problem being the martyr, he has been the punching bag for years and has no problem taking a few more hits.
The way he looks down at his plate makes your chest ache, the way that he acts like this isn’t a big deal. It’s obvious how much it bothers him, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. It hurts you to see him like this—reduced to a quiet, tense version of himself, happy to just keep the peace. 
The clink of silverware continued against the plates as the conversation flowed, finishing up the remainder of dinner, the beer in Steve’s father's glass also gone. He leaned back in his chair, the same look in his eyes that Steve was familiar with, inhibitions mellowed and ready to bite. His eyes narrowed as he observed the both of you, amusement dancing in his gaze like he found the perfect moment to strike. 
“Let me guess,” he began, wiping the edge of his mouth with a napkin before tossing it carelessly onto the table in front. “You’re with Steve because you think you can change him, right? Girls like you always think they can fix a guy like him.”
Steve stiffened beside you, his stomach twisting into a tight knot. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words caught in his throat. For a moment, he felt like a kid again, being told off for something he had no control over. Something he couldn’t change. 
Before he even had time to fully process the insult, you were there. Your tone fast, steady, unfazed. There was no way you would sit there and let that comment go. Not when it was the furthest thing from the truth. 
“I’m not here to change Steve,” you said, your tone calm but resolute. “I’m with him because I love who he already is.”
His heart fluttered in his chest at your words—the way you spoke them. With such unwavering conviction that there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you meant them. 
His father raised a brow, leaning forward in his chair, sizing you up and clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. The act revolted you. You were done with playing nice, you were not going to let him insult you or the one you love. It didn’t matter if they were family. 
“Love, huh?” He scoffed. “That’s cute. But, sweetheart, love doesn’t pay the bills. Steve is not exactly rolling in success here, is he?”
You don’t flinch, not even a little. “I don’t need him to be rolling in anything. He works hard and is more successful than you give him credit for.”
His father barked out a humourous laugh, nowhere near close to finished. “Kind? I’ll give you that. But I’m just saying, girls like you—smart, career-driven, their own place—usually go for someone with a little more ambition.”
You narrowed your eyes at the older man, keeping your voice collected. “Ambition isn’t about titles or money. Steve has plenty of it. He has been through things you couldn’t even understand.”
The tension that settled over the room was tense as you locked eyes. Steve’s mother stared at her husband, you wonder if she wished to say something, or if she also was too scared to challenge the older gentleman. You felt no fear, not when it came to conflict over those you care for. You wouldn’t back down. The more you spoke, the more Steve felt that old, crushing weight of his father’s judgement start to lift from his shoulders. 
“Look,” his father said, not enjoying the pushback. “I’m just telling you what I know. Guys like Steve—they’re nice, sure—but they don’t get you very far. Eventually, you’ll want more, and you’ll leave him just like the last one.’
That one hit hard. Too hard. Steve’s hand clenched under the table, unwanted memories of his past relationship springing to the surface, reopening old wounds. He wanted to make a joke. Wanted to say anything that would get away from this topic. His father noticed how withdrawn he got after Nancy, and now he was throwing it back in his face. He didn’t like weakness, and Steve had never felt more inadequate when that happened. 
“Actually, I’m more than happy with Steve,” you say effortlessly, voice low and confident. “He is one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. I don’t need to ‘want more’ when I already have everything I could ask for.”
His father’s eyes flickered with something—surprise perhaps? He certainly wasn’t used to being challenged like this, feeling at a loss that his tactics weren’t working. He took it as a sign to cut deeper, harsher. He needed to get the upper hand once more. 
His lips curled into a smirk, one that Steve had seen a thousand times before, the one that always made him feel like he was on the losing end of an argument before it even began.
“Are you really gonna let your woman talk to me like this?” His voice heavy and patronising as he stared Steve down. “That’s what you’re doing now? Letting a girl fight your battles?”
Absolutely not. No fucking way. 
Everything was still, you could hear a pin drop in the room. Steve’s anxiety turned to full-on rage, seeping through every vein in his body as he looked at his father. He didn’t care what he said to him, but the vile way he spoke of you was unacceptable. Something in him snapped at that moment. 
“No,” he said, voice holding unwavering clarity. His father looked shocked, not expecting such a firm response from his son.
“No?” His father echoed, leaning forward slightly, trying to intimidate him. “Finally found your voice huh? Took you long enough.”
“No,” Steve repeated with finality. You glanced over and saw the muscles in his jaw tightening as he met his father’s gaze. “What I’m not gonna do is let you disrespect her like that.”
“Disrespect?” His father scoffed, shaking his head, acting as though he knew better. Like he was better. “I’m just telling it like it is. Someone has to, or you’ll go on thinking you’ve actually done something with your life.”
“I don’t need you to tell me how much of a fuckup I am, okay?” Steve shot back, heart pounding in his chest. “I got the message.”
He looks in your direction, eyes softening slightly as he takes in your expression. It held something his father had never directed at him. Pride. You looked proud of him. And that thought alone stirred him on. 
“What I’m not gonna do is allow you to talk to her like that,” He returns his attention to his father, his finger pointing in your direction. “Not when you don’t know a damn thing about her.”
His father bristled at the insubordination, the condescension in his voice was thick. “I know enough,” he said matter-of-factly. “I know she’s playing house with a guy who peaked in high school. How long till she figures that one out, hm?”
Steve’s blood spiked, now more willing than ever to fight back against his father. He had been pushed around for years, if there was any time to rebel, it would be now. “You don’t know anything about us! You’re hardly here!”
His father leaned back, smug. “I know enough about you, Steve. I know you’ve been coasting. First, it was basketball, then this lousy job at the video store—hell—you’re lucky someone even gave you the time of day. A girl like her? She’s going to wake up and realise you’ve got nothing to offer.”
Steve swallowed hard at that moment, his father’s words were getting to him, digging into his skin and refusing to let go. It was beginning to break him, like so many times previously. He was ready to back down, let him say his piece and be done with it. 
That was until he felt a gentle hand on his leg. One that softly ran its fingers against the denim of his jeans. He stared at it. As its presence. He felt the warmth within your touch, reigniting the fire he never thought lit. 
“You’re wrong,” he said quietly, voice cracking slightly but he pushed on. “She is not like that. You say she’s smart? You have no idea. I trust there is a reason she is with me. She sees who I am, something you have never been able to do.”
His father’s eyes flickered with something that resembled surprise, but he quickly masked it with a cold look. “So, what? You think this tantrum is going to change anything? These are facts.  You’ve always been weak, Steve. That’s why you’ll never—”
“No,” Steve cut him off, using the same word he had been repeating for this conversation, filled with a conviction that startled even himself. “I’m not weak. I’m done letting you make me feel like I am.”
The room went still, the sharpness in Steve’s voice hanging in the air that nobody was accustomed to. His father opened his mouth to respond, but Steve didn’t give him the chance.
“I’m not you. If I was she never would have looked at me twice, and I’m damn proud of that.”
Your exit was swift. Steve grabbed your hand and dragged you to the front door, leaving both of his parents in a state of shock. You just about managed to slip your feet into your shoes as he grabbed your coat to the side of your head. Slamming the door loudly as you left. 
The night air was cold, helping in soothing his raging anger, letting a breath out before he turned to you, stare softening with affection. He turned to face you, touching your cheek with such tenderness as he searched your eyes, trying to figure out how you were feeling. 
“Are you alright?” He asked softly, running his thumb along your cheekbone. 
“I’m alright,” you assured him, leaning into his touch. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I—wow,” he was still jittery, letting out a shaky laugh and running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I said all that.”
“I can,” you said as you gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m really proud of you.”
His expression was gentle, grateful to actually hear the words that had been denied for so many years. There was another emotion within him as well, a sense of awe. The way you handled yourself with grace, not bending under pressure. He swore he was already head over heels for you, but after tonight? He fell for you a just little bit harder. He shakes his head at your previous compliment. 
“You were amazing in there, sweetheart,” a crooked smile forming. “God, you’re something you know that?”
You smiled as you allowed him to lead you to his car, arm resting on your back as he opened the door for you. He slipped into the driver's seat and started the ignition, fingers drumming on the steerwheel as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I don’t think I can go back there. Like, ever.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that,” you say as you nudge him playfully. “Guess I’m gonna have to move you in, huh?”
He glanced at you as he pulled away from his childhood home, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Is that so?”
You laughed and rolled your eyes, pleased that he was making jokes instead of spiralling. The comfortable silence that filled the car was peaceful, but his expression shifted, something tentative, serious settled over him. 
“We could, you know.”
You blinked at his proposition. “What?”
He cleared his throat and immediately regretted saying anything. His nerves now spiking at his confession. It was too late to back out now, the words that spilt from his mouth flowed without thought. 
“I mean,” he started, knuckles turning white as his grip tightened. “I may work retail, but I definitely make enough to rent an apartment. I could contribute, really. I could…”
He trailed off, watching your reaction carefully. There was a sincerity in his words that made your heart melt.
“I mean, I’m not gonna be mad about halving the rent,” you said with a blush forming on your face at the thought of living with him. Of waking up with him, coming home to him. For all of your belongings being mingled together. For everywhere you look his presence is there with you. 
His face broke out into the softest, most boyish smile you had ever seen on him. “You mean it?” He uttered, voice quiet, as if he may have misheard you. 
“Yes, Steve,” you brush a hand through his hair, so in love with the sweet boy next to you. “I mean it.”
161 notes · View notes
littlefireball · 3 days
Text
ʜᴊ|ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ (ᴍ)
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ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ʀᴏʙʙᴇʀʏ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ꜱᴇx|ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ(?)|ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.9ᴋ
Summary: The tranquil existence was shattered today by the merciless pirates. You surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair, letting it engulf you. Yet, in that moment of darkness, a figure emerged to rescue you. But is this hero a beacon of hope or a harbinger of doom?
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The golden rays of the morning sun filter through the window, warming your face as you rise. Just like every other day, you gather your belongings and step outside, exchanging friendly greetings with the neighbors before unlocking the door to the café right on schedule.
All is as it should be.
"Good morning, Y/N!" called out a familiar voice. It was a middle-aged man, a loyal customer who always ordered the same sandwich without fail.
"Morning!" you replied, already moving with practiced ease to prepare his breakfast.
"How're you doing?" 
"Fine I guess." 
"It's good to hear." He sighed. "Did you hear the news? Pirates have been causing quite a stir lately.
"Yeah… all we can do is hope they steer clear of our town."
"Let's hope so." He smirked helplessly. "Maybe I should just pack up and find a new place."
"Pack up? Where?"
"I'm not sure, just anywhere that feels safe." He shrugged. "What about you? Aren't you thinking of moving?"
"I wish I could. But, you know… my funds are pretty tight."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. Here's your sandwich."
"Thanks." He settled the bill and walked out, leaving you alone in the café.
Just as you turned around to tidy up the table, a loud shock caught you off guard. 
"Run!!" The once tranquil town erupted into chaos, and you peered out the window, heart racing with dread. Tons of men wielding a machete swung their weapons menacingly, demanding that the terrified residents surrender their belongings. The air was filled with desperate cries and frantic screams as people scattered in every direction. 
Without a moment's hesitation, you dashed to the door, but just as you reached for the lock, a group of men burst in, kicking the door wide open. You stumbled to the floor, mortified, and before you could regain your footing to fight back, one of the men seized you roughly.
"Let go of me, you scoundrel!" you shouted, thrashing against his grip, but the pirate's hand clamped down on your wrist like a vice.  
"Shut your mouth, you wench!" he barked. The ship rocked violently beneath you as you were dragged onto the deck, your struggles futile against the chains that bound you. The laughter of the pirates echoed around you as they shoved you aside. Helpless, you watched in horror as the small shop you had poured your heart into was ransacked, the townsfolk fleeing in terror, and the once vibrant community fell into an eerie stillness.
"Hey, see this baby girl~how cute you are!" " "Leave me alone, you filthy scum!" Your voice quivered with a mix of fear and defiance as you glared at the pirate who had captured you. 
One of them, should be the captain, a cruel smirk playing on his lips, approached you with a lecherous gleam in his eyes. "A feisty one, aren't you? We'll see how long that lasts," he sneered, his breath reeking of rum and malice. "Set sail!"  
As the boat glides farther into the distance, the town gradually fades from view. The lively chatter of vendors hawking their wares in the bustling market is replaced by the lingering echoes of laughter that grate on your nerves.The salty sea air stung your eyes as you struggled against the chains that bound you to the wooden post. 
Tsk…
The crashing waves echoed around you, a constant reminder of your precarious situation. 
Frantic escape ideas raced through your mind. Yet, you were a land dweller, and diving into the ocean means dying. What options do you have? Can you really call out for someone to rescue you? Here you are, in the heart of the sea—who could—
"Turn left!!!!!It's ATEEZ's ship!!" A loud cry jolted you from your thoughts. Just as you were about to grasp the situation, everything unfolded before your eyes. A deafening roar erupted from the left side of the ship, causing it to lurch violently and sending terror through the crew. The sturdy vessel splintered, hurling pirates overboard, and you tumbled into the frigid sea.
The icy water enveloped you, and you fought to break the surface, but the ocean constricted your breath and drained your strength. As despair set in, you surrendered to the darkness. Just then, strong arms seized you, pulling you upward. Your vision blurred, obscuring your savior's identity, and consciousness slipped away.
—---
Coughing violently, you expelled the salty seawater that had filled your mouth. Your breaths came in rapid gasps, a primal instinct driving you to inhale as if the very air might slip away. As clarity returned, you realized that you were still aboard the vessel... but the faces of the crew surrounding you seemed unfamiliar.
"Are you awake?" A gentle voice broke through the haze, and you turned to see a man clad in a flowing white robe, his expression warm and reassuring.  
"Where... am I?" you managed to whisper, your voice barely above a breath.  
"A ship, obviously," Yunho replied. "You fell into the sea and Jongho saved you." 
The vivid image of the recent attack flickered on the screen, and a wave of dread washed over you as you gazed at the man standing before you. ATEEZ, you recalled, infamous for their ruthless piracy. What would they do? Would they end your life? But then again, why would they bother to rescue you?
"It's perfectly normal to feel a bit disoriented right now. It's a common reaction after being submerged in water..." The man's voice, surprisingly calm, began to ease the tension in your chest. Perhaps they weren't as terrifying as the tales suggested? Still, you knew better than to let your guard down.
"Is she alright?" At that moment, Hongjoong gently knocked and opened the door. His striking features made your heart race. Despite your reluctance to admit it, he was undeniably handsome, far from the "demon" the stories painted him to be.
"Yah, she is just a bit frightened," Yunho said as he rose to his feet, and Hongjoong nodded, his gaze remained fixed on you.
"What's your name, lady?"
"Y/N..."
"I'm Hongjoong, the captain. This is Yunho, our doctor." You nodded as he continued, "I'm sorry for your fall into the sea. It was indeed our attack that caused the ship you were on to sink."
"No... I owe you my gratitude. You were the ones who saved me."
He shrugged with a warm smile. "Just take some time to rest, and we'll arrange for you to be taken to the nearest town."
You nodded, and they stepped out, leaving you to gather your thoughts. You stumbled out of bed, your feet heavy as you made your way to the door, only to be met with the murmur of several men outside.
You stumbled out of bed, your feet heavy as you made your way to the door, only to be met with the murmur of several men outside.
"What is the captain thinking? Bringing a woman aboard?"
"Exactly! This is bound to bring us misfortune!"
"Or maybe he plans to trade her? She's not too shabby, after all..."
"But I heard she's being sent to other towns."
"Is it really that straightforward?"
You clamped a hand over your mouth, panic rising within you, tears welling in your eyes as your heart raced. They were clearly not good men. But what could you do? Escape? That was out of the question. How could you prove to them that you wouldn't bring them bad luck? It was easy to say, but how could you actually do it? Just as your mind spiraled into chaos, loud voices broke through your thoughts.
"Why are we having abura soba again?" Hongjoong grumbled.
"Because they're delicious," Yunho replied.
"That's excessive, don't you think?" Hongjoong shot back. "I eat abura soba five days a week!"
"Is that a problem? The crew loves it," Wooyoung chimed in as he knocked on your door. When you opened it, he stood there with a steaming bowl of noodles.
"Hey there, Y/N, right? Here, if you don't mind, I made this for you," Wooyoung said, placing the bowl on your table. "I'm Wooyoung, by the way."
"Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Though you were wary of possible poison, your hunger overpowered your caution. You took a bite, and to your surprise, it was delicious. Before long, the bowl was empty, and you watched as the others busied themselves with cleaning up.
"Hey, Y/N," Wooyoung approached you, balancing several bowls in his hands. "Are you done? You can hand the bowl back to me."
"Oh, it's fine. Let me help you. You look a bit worn out."
"Thanks, I appreciate it." You joined him in gathering bowls and chopsticks, following him to the kitchen. As you walked, you took in your surroundings, contemplating your next move... perhaps earning their trust was the best strategy for survival, at least for now.
As you stepped into the kitchen, you noticed Hongjoong frantically working on something, clearly in a rush.
"Hey, hyung. Just try not to shatter the bowl again," Wooyoung remarked, already scrubbing the dishes.
"I won't," Hongjoong replied, but his next words nearly sent the bowl tumbling.
"Um… are you going to lend him a hand?" you whispered to Wooyoung.
"Nope. I'm bust. Maybe you should go see what he's up to."  
With that, you approached Hongjoong cautiously. This could be a perfect chance to earn his trust.
"Hongjoong?"
"Yah?"
"Do you need any help?" You glanced at the mess on the table, where he was clumsily beating eggs.
"No, I'm good. Oh no!"
You quickly caught the bowls and chopsticks as they teetered, relieved they didn't break.
"Hmm… if you're okay with it, I could cook something up for you."
"Really?"
"I actually work as a cook."
"Ah, so you're just like Wooyoung."
"I guess so. What do you feel like eating?"
"Just not abura soba, please." You grinned and nodded. "And I'm not a fan of vegetables."
"Got it."
You set to work with the ingredients spread out on the table, whipping up the dishes you know best while ensuring the table remains neat. Before long, your masterpiece was complete. You entered the dining hall, cradling a bowl of fragrant soup. Hongjoong stood tall, his eyes widening at the sight of you.
"Oh wow! That smells so good!" he exclaimed, quickly blowing on the noodles before digging in. "This is absolutely delicious!" A sense of pride swelled within you as you witnessed his joy, a reminder of why you chose the culinary path.
"Perhaps you should be my personal chef," he joked, a playful smirk on his lips. You smile back, taking his words lightly, fully aware that you won't be staying long here. 
Hongjoong seemed to relax a bit, his shoulders dropping slightly as he savored each bite, his eyes closed in blissful contentment.
"I can't believe I've never had anything like this before," he said, opening his eyes to meet yours with a newfound appreciation. "You really are talented."
You blushed slightly, grateful for the compliment. "Thank you, Hongjoong. It's just something I enjoy doing."
As you sat down across from him, Wooyoung wandered in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, what's going on here? Did I miss the party?"
"Just having a nice meal," Hongjoong replied, gesturing to the now half-empty bowl in front of him.
Wooyoung's expression softened, a hint of surprise crossing his face. "Can I have a taste?"
"Nope. That's mine." 
Hongjoong immediately finished them all, not letting Wooyoung eat. 
"Yah!Hyung!" "Who told you not to help me?" 
You chuckled, watching them quarreling playfully. It appeared that this was part of their everyday life. From this viewpoint, they were completely disconnected from any notion of evil. 
In the days that followed, it felt as if you had stepped into the role of Hongjoong's personal chef. Initially, he continued to enjoy Wooyoung's meals, but he would occasionally drop hints that your cooking was just as delightful. Eventually, you took the plunge and prepared a dish just for him, hoping to win his trust. The joy on his face was infectious; he began to request your cook regularly, and soon, even some of the crew members were intrigued by your skills. 
Cooking for them brought you immense joy, as their satisfaction filled you with happiness. Over time, your initial apprehension faded, and the thought of leaving began to slip from your mind. The idea of visiting the nearby town seemed to vanish. Yet, in recent days, Hongjoong's demeanor shifted, making you reconsider your plans.
Did you do something to upset him? How could you make up for him? You worried about whether you would be killed for this? No. What you were concerned about was what if Hongjoong didn't like you?
He had grown somewhat distant, his warmth replaced by a chill that left you unsettled. This was especially evident when you were in the kitchen with Wooyoung; his coldness bordered on anger. Today was no different.
"Are you alright, Y/N? You look a bit pale," Wooyoung asked, concern etched on his face.
"Just feeling a little under the weather..." you replied with a bittersweet smile, though the cramping in your abdomen made it hard to stand. You suspected the long days at sea and the cold had taken a toll on your body. "Hiss..."
"Maybe you should take a break?" "But I want to make some food for Hongjoong…" You winced, wanting to refuse and continue helping in the kitchen, but the pain rendered your limbs weak, making cooking impossible.
"Nah. You should go back to your room." 
"But what if he didn't like me?" 
"Huh?"
"I mean…he may hate me if I don't cook for him." 
"He wouldn't think so.
"But…"
"No. Just go take a rest, okay? I can handle." Wooyoung stopped you. "Can you walk?"
"I think so?" In reality, each step felt like a monumental challenge.  
"Let me help you." Wooyoung took your hand and supported your shoulders, a moment that caught Hongjoong's eye.
"What are you doing?" he approached, anger flashing in his eyes, but as he noticed the pain etched on your face, his expression shifted. "What's wrong? Are you okay, Y/N?"
"She's sick." Wooyoung said. 
"I'm not asking you." 
Wooyoung rolled his eyes playfully, knowing Hongjoong was jealous. 
"So now I will send her to her room." 
"No." Hongjoong pulled you to his arms carefully. "I will send her and you cook." 
"Okay, okay." 
—----
"Do you need any medicine?" Hongjoong inquired as he gently laid you down on the bed. "Or should I call Yunho for assistance?"
"Actually..." you winced, the pain making your words slow. "It's just period cramps."
"Oh... umm... would something warm help? Maybe hot water?"
You nodded, and he quickly dashed out to fetch a cup of steaming water.
"Here, be careful." He supported your back as you sat up, handing you the warm cup.
"Thank you." You took a sip, feeling the soothing warmth spread through you. It wasn't just the hot water; it was Hongjoong's tender care that made your heart flutter. You couldn't deny the twinge of sadness when he seemed distant. You longed for his smile and the sweet words he used to share. Unbeknownst to you, your feelings for him were already blossoming.
"Do you need more?" As you lifted your gaze, you noticed how close he was, causing a blush to creep onto your cheeks. "No, it's okay."
Hongjoong smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he noticed your embarrassment. "Alright, but let me know if you need anything else. I'm here for you." 
"Thank you," you replied with a nod. "But Wooyoung really needs to step up; he's in charge of everyone's lunch."
Hongjoong feigned a cough as he plopped down beside you, irritation evident in his voice. "It's no big deal; he's used to it. You shouldn't worry about him." You stifled a laugh—wasn't he just a tad envious?
"Nope. Everyone seems to be eating a lot more these days," you teased, enjoying the playful banter as his jealousy was unmistakable.
"Why are you so concerned about him? Do you have a crush on him?" His question took you by surprise, and it seemed to catch him off guard too. "Ugh, forget it."
"Does it bother you who I like?" You asked. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he quickly averted his gaze.
"No, it's not that," Hongjoong stammered, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "It's just…I didn't expect you to be interested in him. He's always been so…carefree and unpredictable." 
I once had a crush, but it wasn't on Wooyoung. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as a warm sensation blossomed in your chest. After inhaling deeply, you were prepared to share your truth. "Hongjoong… there's something special about what I feel… when you're near, my heart starts to race. I think I might be falling for you."
"Seriously?" Your confession surprised him, and a shy yet joyful smile spread across his face. "Were you just teasing me?"
"Not at all. I would never lie about how I feel."
He leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of jest. The sincerity in your tone echoed through the room, and the tension between you seemed to dissolve. Hongjoong's hand, which had been resting on the bedsheets, gently brushed against yours, and you didn't pull away.
"I never thought... I mean, I've always been there for you, but I never expected..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.
"Expected what?" You prompted, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.
Hongjoong looked down, his fingers entwining with yours. "I never imagined that you would see me as more than just a friend. I've always admired you, from afar, but I never dared to dream that you felt the same way."
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you leaned in, closing the small gap between you. 
"I think I like you, too." Hongjoong's expression softened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. It was a gentle, comforting embrace that spoke volumes of the feelings he had been holding back.
"Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long. I'm glad you feel the same way."
Smiling, you gave him a nod after a gazing. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, catching you by surprise, but you quickly melted into the kiss. 
As you lay back on the bed, he hovered over you, the kiss unbroken. He was tender and cautious, as if he feared making you uneasy.
"I have a good way to reduce the period pain." He settled your hand on his cheek, giving a peck on that. "Do you wanna give it a try?"
You knew what he meant and what he wanted to do. Of course, you wanted to, too. 
"Please." 
"Wait for a while." He pecked at you after leaving for a towel and condom. Placing the towel under your thighs, he then lifted up your dress to slide down your panties. 
"I love you, y/n." He towered you, pulling out his cock from his panties. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the contours of her cheek, as if committing her beauty to memory. You  closed your eyes, a soft sigh escaping your lips, inviting him closer.
Their lips met in a kiss that was at once tender and passionate, filled with a longing that had been building for what felt like an eternity. He guided his member to your entrance, which was already wrapped up in a condom, then slowly eased into you. 
You moaned out as you broke the kiss, the sensation of being filled up was weird you could say. Hongjoong, same as you, felt a little bit uneasy because of your sticky blood. 
"It hurts…" A deep frown creased your forehead as the familiar grip of menstrual pain returned. Watching you suffer, Hongjoong's heart ached with sorrow. He lingered, allowing your pain to fade gradually, before he began to move in and out. His rhythm matched the tenderness of his kisses, a blend of softness and intensity.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper. His cock could easily reach your sensitive spot thanks to your blood. Settling your legs around his waist, he rolled his hips at a steady pace. 
"Shit, it feels good." "Hongjoong…" "It's okay, love." His head landed in your neck, dropping a broken kiss on that. It began with a gentle brush of lips against the warm, smooth skin, a tentative exploration that sent shivers down your spine. He deepened his kiss as he started to rush, his lips lingering softly on the curve of the neck as well as his thick cock─grazing your hot wall deliciously as he moved back and forth. 
"Joong…it's…fuck…"His hard tip suddenly hit your sweet spot, making you whole body squirm and let out a shy moan. "Here?" He hit it again, you couldn't help but tighten your wall. The wave of excitement rushed throughout your body each time he collided with it. You loved it. 
"Please, joong. I need more." "As you wish,  baby girl." He lifted up his hips, withdrawing his cock until only his tip inside you, then shoving back with a great force. You arched your back, opening your mouth for better breathing. The crash he made caused you to run out of oxygen. 
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He fucked you so fast and hit the same spot dead on. All the heat gathered in your lower core and formed a knot. Pain?It was already faded away and instead by your climax. Your wall clenched his cock, urging him to bring you to the edge. He picked up his pace, panting heavily and letting out a throaty moan. 
Your legs were placed on his shoulder, oh, he went so deep. He sat up straight, grabbing your knees and pushed into your wetness. The noise from outside faded away, leaving only the rapid thumping of your heart and the skin slapping sound, drowning out the chaos beyond. His ball hit your ass each time his tip reached the deepest, making you groan without care. 
His hand found his way to your collar, pulling it down to explode your fine chest. He pushed up your bra, squeezing your breast hard while teasing your nipple, earning a shy chuckle from your lips. "Gotta taste you." He leaned down to suck your nipple, his tongue licked everywhere he could reach. 
The double excitement made you spin. There was nothing left but only the kissing sound and the skin slapping sound bouncing off the wall. 
"I'm so close." He huffed, his thrust lost its rhythm as he found the way to peak. You, too. After a few thrust and a long throaty moan, both of you came. "Goodness." Your embrace tightened as you two didn't want to leave. Catching his breath, he pecked at your cheek before removing. 
"Am I right?Does it hurt now?" He asked, a grin played on his lips. 
"No." You shook your head. "Thank you." You gazed into each other's eyes, their faces flushed with the aftermath of their intimacy.
"Hey, I made lunch." Wooyoung suddenly knocked on your door, giving you two shocks. "But I think you two are full now?"
"No…ugh…we'll eat later." Hongjoong stammered. 
"Alright. You two will be hungry for sure especially after an intense team sport!" Wooyoung teased. 
"Shut up!Wooyoung!Leave!" 
"Okay, okay~Call me if you need more condoms." 
"I'll just kill you, you asshole!" 
Ah…it was so embarrassing.
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tag list:@angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615
141 notes · View notes
lucimaaie · 2 days
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we pt3 ✧.* tlou
pairing - santa barbara!ellie x reader
summary - you and ellie hit the road.
a/n - this one got more angst yall, also between this and my essay my hands hurt, anyway enjoy
part 1, part 2
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the two of you had packed up relatively quickly and set out the next morning. it took a while to get used to traveling again, this time not alone and with a more productive goal than revenge.
ellie had taken it upon herself to carry most of the things you’d agreed to bring. the rifle, the backpack full of relatively good clothes you shared, and the food supply.
the first few weeks had been cruel, hiking in the snow with only a few layers of clothes. as you moved through the states, it was clear it was getting hotter and though ellie was happy for the change, she wasn’t prepared.
“i told you it was hot.” you giggled as you watched ellie dip her hands into the lukewarm water and dab it on her arms and chest. you’d be lying if you said the sight was nothing special. you watched her with attentive eyes as you sat down next to lake. “gonna share?”
ellie glared at you. “what you want me to dunk you in, because i will.” she busied herself with taking off your shows. she couldn’t help but frown when she saw how bruised your feet were. you’d need real rest soon. she rolled up your pants and moved your feet into the water. “that hurt?”
“it’s okay.”
ellie got her answer by the way your nose scrunched up at the feeling of the water surrounding your feet. it probably hadn’t been the best option, considering the water wasn’t exactly cold. “we gotta you some new shoes soon, peach.” she set your shoes the side, briefly surveying the state of hers. “could take mine until then.” she mumbled.
“they’re fine.” you said as you swung your feet in the water.
ellie sighed deeply, looking at your reflection in the water. this was risky, setting out with limited surprise without a destination in mind. she grabbed the map from the front pocket of her backpack. she unfolded the map and laid it on her lap. “think this is south enough?”
“hm,” you looked over the map, seeing where she’d marked where you were now: somewhere in colorado. “not quite south yet. unless this is good?”
“think it still gets crazy cold here in the winter.” she leaned back on her hands, looking at how focused you were. you were so dedicated to making sure she was happy. or as happy as she could be all things considered. she gently grabbed the map from your hands and tucked the folded paper into her shoes. without another word, she crouched next to you, took your foot into her hands and pressed her thumbs into the center of it.
“you don’t have to-“ you sighed breathily. “do that.”
“peach.” it was meant to come out firm, but the word was gentle. “lemme do this.” she pressed her thumbs harder, moving them in slow circles into the skin. this was good for now.
another few weeks later, ellie and you had shed the heavy jackets in the day and snuggled up under them at night. ellie had fussed over you more and more over the time, always feeding you first, giving you the first sip of water, all of it. she’d like to say it was simply because you were traveling across country into a completely different climate but that was only part of it. you were hers, officially. it was her job to do all this, to be close to you.
ellie let herself be excited, even though it was terrifying. everything was new and she could lose you at any moment, but that's not what she wanted to think about. as the night fell, she was excited about star filled sky every day. she mumbled something about stargazing but she didn't expect you to make a pallet out of your old coats and pat the spot next to you.
"we should be sleeping." she said off-handledly as if she hadn't immediately snuggled into you. she stared at you in the moonlight for a while before you pushed your her face up to the stars.
"look at them, not me." your little laugh was honey next to her ear.
"what? you're making it hard. not my fault." she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer. if that was even possible.
the sound of crickets (or cicadas, she couldn’t tell) filled the silence for a few minutes. ellie was calm as she breathed in the earthy scent of you. “i wish i had a book that told me the names of all these things.” she looked at the stars, enamored with them. “i kept looking for one back in jackson, but nothing.”
“jackson?” you questioned, craning your neck up to look at her.
ellie blinked as she realized she’d slipped. it wasn’t a secret she was adamant on hiding anymore, just a detail she hadn’t mentioned yet. it was her a part of her past, but one of the good parts. maybe..maybe she could tell you this. “i lived there before.” she looked down at you.
“didn’t know that.” you said, ever so curious as always. “what was it like?”
“safe.” was the first first out her mouth. it had been safe at some point, that wasn’t a lie. “almost normal. lot of people. beds, water, electricity.”
“sounds homey.” you briefly glanced at the sky as you tried to imagine something so normal. a neighborhood. the thought seemed foreign compared to your nomadic childhood.
“it was home.” she laid on her side, her forehead gently touching yours. she shivered slightly at the cool breeze that passed. her lips quirked up when you rubbed up and down her arm, thankful for your touch more than the warmth.
“do you miss it?”
“sometimes.” ellie said quietly. she wasn’t exactly into the conversation. the comfort between your touch and voice had her relaxed enough to confront her sleepiness. the fear of a nightmare wasn’t completely gone but knowing you would be there allowed her to tuck her head between yours and close her eyes.
ellie should’ve known the hours of comfort she’d experienced had to come at some price. she flinched as she heard the familiar screech of a clicker. she could barely keep the anxiety out her voice as she shook you awake. "c'mon, wake up." she said in a hushed tone.
you were slow to wake up but as soon as you heard those sounds you shot up as her. she pulled the blankets from underneath you and bunched them in her arm before swinging her backpack over her shoulder. her chest rose and fell quickly as she watched you gather the rest of your belongings and catch up with her.
her hand found yours as she kept her hand on a swivel. there was an overlap, signaling there were two maybe three, hopefully not four. she squeezed your hand as she pulled you behind her. you couldn't run but you couldn't stay here either and splitting up was never an option. "step back," she mouthed, hoping the moonlight helped you at least to understand.
you stepped back slowly, disappearing into the trees. ellie cringed as you stepped on a thin branch, the sound of it snapping bringing attention to you. a clicker nearby let out a feral roar and came rushing towards you. "run." she turned to you.
"what? no-" the sleepiness in your eyes was long gone and replaced with pure fear.
"i'm not asking, go." ellie grabbed her gun from her hip. you glanced down at her hand and looked at her incredulously. she looked at you with something more stony than she'd ever look at you. like she was getting ready to lose you.
"no, that's stupid. you can't do that, el-" you tried to pry it from her hands but she was stronger. you patted your pockets for anything that would help, but nothing. finally, you remembered a pair of scissors you'd found earlier and dug them out ellie's backpack.
ellie tried to push you off but the clicker had already arrived, drawn to your shushed argument. you stabbed it right in it's neck, wedging it through the skin for good measure. it was dying, but not fast enough. it had almost gotten one good bite in before ellie fired a quick shot right in it's face. you looked back at her meeting her panicked eyes with the same fear. there was no hesitation in taking her hand and making a run for it.
everything seemed to blur as you held onto ellie's hand like your life depended on it. you hadn't even seen her pick up anything to throw but the clinking sound against a tree gave you enough time to sneak past the hungry things. ellie held you close to her as you hid behind a crashed car as if they could see you. there was a sliver of relief as the clickers got their sights set on elsewhere. ellie's grip hadn't loosened on you as tears fell down her cheeks, the stress hitting her all at once.
"hey." you patted her arm up to her hand, squeezing as tight as you could without hurting her. "oh ellie, baby-" hearing your voice seemed to help but she was still shaken as she checked your arms for bites. her eyes were too glossy to see the look on your face but she didn't care. she cupped your face, leaning her forehead against yours as she tried to keep her breathing normal and quiet. "i thought you-" she cut herself off with a stuttered intake of breath. "i'm okay, i'm here. w-we gotta go, alright?" you brought your shaky hands up to push back her hair. she nodded, letting you guide her to hopefully some place safer for the night.
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thank you for reading!
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marloree · 3 days
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ᑎEᗯ ᗷOOKS ᗩᑎᗪ ᑎEᗯ ᗩᑕᑫᑌᗩIᑎTᗩᑎᑕES
Pairing: Librarian! Soobin × Bookworm! Reader
Genre: fluff
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: this has been dusting in my drafts for months, but I finally got to finish it! Hopefully the effort was worth it. 🥹
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You, quite literally, never seemed to get your nose out of a book. No matter what you would be doing, a book was an essential. Eating, traveling somewhere, waiting for the next class - you always had a book in hand. Even if you were not reading at the moment, you for sure would still carry a book or two in your bag.
Books were your bread and water, your oxygen and sun. You wouldn’t lie if you said they were almost everything to you. Having developed a liking to fairytales in your childhood, it turned into something much, much greater as years passed. The little feeling of contentment you would feel when your mother read to you at a younger age turned into joy and excitement of seeking knowledge and getting to learn about worlds, lives and situations you never got to experience yourself.
Fairytales got replaced with books of a more serious nature, soon you replaced your mother in reading to you and read on your own. However, the thrill you felt while gulping a page after page didn’t go anywhere. If possible, it got only stronger. 
Reading was your favorite pastime and it wouldn’t be so difficult to guess what your favorite place to spend your time was, besides your room, of course.
That’s right - the library, the home of so many books. And, in a way, yours, too. It was like your second home. You could spend hours there, taking in the numerous beautiful covers that looked at you from all the bookshelves. Well, this is just what you usually would do: waking up early on the weekends just to go visit the local, oh so dear to you, library.
Having spent so many hours there, you were sure you have taken a look at every book and have talked to every librarian there. Or, so you thought. 
It was such a beautiful summer morning, beautiful and peaceful. The heat hadn’t reached its peak, the city hadn’t fully woken up yet, only the rare birds would chirp here and there. Just like the birds, you, too, were up at this early hour. You just finished your book yesterday night and couldn’t wait to read the continuation. But, for that, you had to wait until the library would open and you could finally take the needed copy. Anticipating the moment with every fiber of your body, you sat on the bed, dreaming of all the possible ways the story could take a turn to, while also not forgetting to glance at the clock every now and then. Of course you started preparing earlier than you should, taking an earlier bus as well: the excitement was running through your veins, replacing its natural content, no less.
A solid 10 minutes earlier than the most punctual librarian would open the door for visitors you stood at the entrance. Your feet tapped a beat only known to them, the book getting traveled from one of your hands to the other in a rather impatient manner. It felt like eternity passed when you finally heard the door being opened from the inside. You immediately turned to the direction of the noise, unwilling to lose even a second. Another moment passed and the door was finally open widely, welcoming the early visitor.
But, to your surprise, it wasn’t the usual librarian that greeted you, but a completely new and unfamiliar face. 
“Uh, good morning”, you muttered, looking up at the stranger, as if both perplexed and curious to see a new face.
The smile on the guy’s face grew wider, although he clearly was a bit nervous: it was his first work day here, or in a library at all, for that matter.
“Good morning, good morning!” He stepped aside, letting you enter the building.
In a moment, the curiosity towards a new face was long gone and forgotten as you laid your eyes on the needed cover, the second part of the book you’ve been longing to read. With a swift gesture, the book traveled into your hands, as you looked at it fondly, lovingly almost.
Your expression hadn’t gone unnoticed by the new librarian: he was taking quick curious glances at you every now and then, you were his first visitor, the first person he had to assist as a librarian. But, even so, his eyes sparkled almost as brightly as yours once he read the title on the cover. It was the name of his favourite series, too. In a few seconds, he walked closer to you, almost overwhelmed with excitement.
“Hey, I see you’ve read the first book, am I right? Did you like it?” The tone of his voice carried a hint of warning of a possible trouble: him exploding from his excitement. But how else could one feel when he, after months if not years, have finally found a fellow series reader?
“Yes, yes, I have!” You turned to him, your smile telling a similar story, "and I absolutely loved it!!"
The next thing you knew, you two started bombarding each other with questions regarding the series and other books of the author. Your enthusiasm was contagious, but no less was his. You kept on interrupting each other, speaking like you could never get tired. Surely, you could spend hours just talking about the thing you both loved - books.
You haven’t met many people who shared such a great amount of love towards reading, so you were more than happy to come across such a person. Your lively conversation went on and on, not seeming to be coming to an end at all. You talked and talked, trying to express all of the thoughts and emotions that got to be buried deep inside your brains for so, so long. Once you two finally shared everything you wanted about the book, your chatter quite abruptly came to a halt.
“Oh, I’m Soobin, by the way”, the librarian smiled with a hint of awkwardness, just now realizing he never introduced himself.
“It's so nice to meet someone who’s just as passionate about the series as I am”, your enthusiasm was over the roof, making you too occupied to notice the sudden feeling of awkwardness or to even remember to introduce yourself back. In your defense, Soobin hadn’t noticed he never got your name either.
“Wait, do you know N.N. too?” You suddenly hit Soobin with another question, remembering your second favorite author.
“Yes, yes, I do!” The awkwardness swiped off the guy's face once the conversation was once again turned to the topic he was so passionate about.
After rambling and rambling without seeming to ever stop or even take a breath, you finally shared everything you wanted - for the moment, at least - and, seemingly, Soobin didn’t have much to say as well.
“It's so nice knowing we share the same interest and even favor similar authors”, you sighed contently, “wait, we just have to get to know each other better.”
“Oh, you think so?” Soobin’s more shy and quiet nature immediately showed up once his favorite topic was taken away from him, “honestly, I’d love to, but I’ve been really busy lately, trying to balance my studies and work, and it doesn’t leave much time for anything else, you know,” his sigh was equivalent to how every student who ever had to take up both fields at once has felt.
“Hm”, you hummed, quickly coming up with a solution, “I don’t have much work on me currently, I could visit the library even daily!” You were so happy to finally find an eager book lover that you were forgetting you were talking to an almost absolute stranger. “If that’s okay with you, of course,” you quickly added.
A wide smile appeared on Soobin's face in an instant after your suggestion. “Of course, of course, I’d be so happy if you would! I doubt I’ll have much work during these first days, so it would be really nice of you if you’d come around.”
“Then I’ll surely come tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, too!”, your smile reached all the way from one ear to the other, “and I’ll definitely bring you a list of my most favorite books!”
“I will as well, then, and I’d definitely be looking forward to tomorrow!”
As you walked out of the library that day, the sun was shining so brightly and the birds were singing even more cheerfully than in the morning, nature seemed to be just as happy as you were. You were so excited about your future conversations, it felt like you've found a perfect, if not soul mate, then a book mate, for sure.
You carried the copy in hand, anticipating tomorrow. But, at the moment, your focus was slowly shifting towards the book. To read it, as always, turned into the main goal of the day. Overnight, preferably.
Meanwhile, among Soobin's daydreams, the realization that he still didn’t know your name crept and grew stronger. Well, he surely would ask you tomorrow. Unless the excitement lets it slip his mind once again, that is.
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findafight · 14 hours
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I do think it's wild that I used to be pretty neutral and even slightly supportive of byler, while not thinking it could (or should!) be endgame. But now I'm like. Actively bitter towards it just based on how I've seen fans act? I'm fed up with it. With theories (however plausible or outlandish) being treated as fact. Of the "canon or youre not a REAL fan" attitudes that are increasingly extreme.
Last July I was sent a dozen hate anons a bit over a year ago for saying I didn't think it made sense for byler to be canon within the final season, because what we have textually seen on screen has not prepared for the 180 Mike's relationships would have to take, but I've seen others get weird hate asks too. I also see what a large portion of shippers are calling "proof" and it's either something that is up for interpretation (which is fun and fine! But not definitive!) or they just made up. I've seen multiple people say milevens are toxic and homophobic etc but here on Tumblr I haven't seen that at all. (I'm sure there have been! But on Tumblr I think there's maybe... Three or so active milevens lol [I am not one] and they stay in their lane unless it's to beg bylers to stop cross tagging)
I've seen bylers make posts about mileven that are incredibly rude and act like they're superior for it! There's ableism and biphobia and homophobia and misogyny and all sorts of shit that always happens in fandom, but the level I've seen from bylers is bonkers (and yes! I am talking about bylers being homophobic! Acting like a character being gay only matters if he's in a relationship is homophobic!) I've only seen bylers consistently cross tag. I've seen them disregard all three characters involved with the love triangle and their motivations just to make byler happen, and it often comes down to them making all three two dimensional tropes and souless boring caricatures. The amount of denial around El's feelings is pretty offensive, and also boring!
I just think. Perhaps. If you don't like when people are consistently annoyed at the group of shippers, perhaps re-evaluate to see if you are the "positive community" you claim to be, or are actively attacking people who do not adhere to the increasingly rigid criteria you have decided are required to be considered a shipper, and immediately declaring someone who doesn't an "enemy".
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captain-joongz · 1 day
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Thinking about free use husband!Joshua…
Coming home to him and wrapping your arms around him from behind while he is cooking .. kissing his neck and shoulders and teasing him until he gets hard
Making him keep cooking while you start to touch him cruelly, praising and degrading him in the same breath
And he loves it, letting you do whatever you want to him, making him submit, even though he would do it willingly, this way makes his body shake, until he has to turn off everything and stop before he collapses on the floor…
Maybe this doesn’t make any sense, maybe it does, I cant really tell im too tired 😭
- ✨
(Btw you’re gonna get that job!!)
so sorry for the delay darling, i ended up taking a little break for dinner and a shower, but now i'm back and more ready than ever to tackle this delicious scenario~
and thank you for the encouragement! i honestly don't know how to feel about the interview today, but hopefully it didn't go completely awfully haha! i have another one tomorrow afternoon, so there's more awaiting ! but that one is for an english teacher, which i think should be perfect for me <3
here's your delicious little story ✨anon <3 and as always, hard hours continue and will continue for another week !!
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warnings: cursing, marking, subby Shua, handjob, cumming in pants
ooooh now, Joshua is a little bit of a wild card, isn't he? i feel that he has a strong and easy-going enough personality that people would assume he'd like to naturally lead, but also there's this air of gentleness and prettiness about him that just screams "i'll let someone take care of me", not to mention that he's a sassy little bastard
so maybe he would sometimes brat out a little, have some cheeky remarks, but deep down he just loved submitting to you, especially when you came home all fired up from a long hard day at work. oh he'd know that you'd need to get your hands on him and unwind with the fierce aura of exhaustion and frustration enveloping you
he'd at least hoped he'd be able to finish the dinner he was preparing for the two of you, but then you were in the kitchen, wrapping your hands around him in a back-hug, smushing your face into his shoulder
"hard day?"
"oh god, you don't even know. janet from accounting is being a cunt again, it's crazy."
for a few moments the chatter between you flowed without interruption, you hanging off of him and loudly complaining about a coworker that's been making your life ten thousand times harder, and he'd started to relax and focused back onto cooking
but that's what you were waiting for
the second you could feel him untense in your hold, your hands started to wander. at first only slowly caressing his sides or across his tummy, touches that could easily be read as comfort, but then your hand strayed a little too up and pressed up on his nipple just as you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, both feeling and hearing his breath hitch under you
"baby..." he'd say breathlessly, trying to reprimand you but his body would already be heating up with the promises it came to understand from your hands
you wouldn't stop, for anything, busying yourself by leaving hot laving kisses to his neck and behind his ear, one hand carefully massaging his scalp and tugging at his hair while the other one slyly made its way under his t-shirt to tease his nipple without the barrier of clothing
you'd love the feeling of him tensing under you, his body going all high-strung when you'd press down on the stiff little peak and push it around with your lazy fingers, breaths leaving him in huffs and sighs every time you'd tug his hair a little harder
he'd still try to pretend to be fully focused on cooking, but it would all grow hazy in front of his eyes, his lids threatening to fall shut with every electrifying rush of lust and pleasure from your ministrations, and soon he'd start messing up - clumsy hands dropping the spoon, crushing the ingredients in his palms on every hard bite you distributed to his neck, and you'd chuckle at his plight
"what is it, baby? aren't you a little clumsy tonight?"
he'd huff at your words but say nothing, stubbornly trying to ignore you and your games - and that would only stoke your fire and provoke you into upping the ante
now sticking your both your hands under his clothes, one migrating to give attention to the other nipple while the second naughty hand travelled south until you were cupping his half-hard cock and punching a moan out of him
"Shua, baby, you're not paying attention to the food at all, i'm so disappointed. i was looking forward to your cooking all day, but you can't focus long enough to not burn it..."
"don't be so mean" he'd whine and you'd tsk at him
"is that any way to talk to me?" gripping him harder, you'd love the way he'd groan under you, hands abandoning the utensils to grip at the counter, but you'd quickly grab them and push them back to the pot
"go on, baby, cook for me if you want my praises"
and Joshua would give it a valiant try, he really would, stirring the food in little aborted motions while you rolled his nipples between your fingers and kissed at the bitten and marked skin of his neck, hand massaging and squeezing the growing bulge in his pants, and the kitchen would be full of the sounds of hissing cooking food and his little sighs and breathless moans
but he'd know it's game over town the moment your hand slipped into his pants and gripped his cock. the skin on skin contact was almost enough to send him crashing to the ground, knees buckling and knocking into each other with the surge of pleasure. and yeah, he definitely didn't even see what he was doing anymore, head tipped back and whines spilling out with every slow measured stroke on his cock
you'd see his hands shaking on the utensils, you'd see how he'd start losing focus, not moving them anymore, instead jerking his hips in tiny little circles to fuck into your hand - and of course you'd still him and tell him he needed to do better - and of course he'd moan at that, his cock jumping in excitement
"i c-can't, fuck, wanna cum please-" you'd recognise the tell tale signs he was close, the way he'd squeeze his eyes shut while his mouth fell open, the way his whines got more and more high-pitched and his hips shook as he supressed the need to pump them into the tightness of your fist
"go on, baby, you've been such a good boy for me"
and that would be all it took for him to frantically start turning the stove off, barely managing to catch onto the counter before the combined stimulation of you biting his ear and squeezing the tip of his throbbing cock sent him over the edge and he came in his pants, shaking in your arms with soft cries
Shua would turn to jelly in your embrace, barely even holding up on his own two feet while the half-cooked food cooled down on the stove, but it would be hard to pay attention to anything else except for his body thrumming with the release and the gentle kisses and praises you whispered into his lips for listening to you so well
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divider by @cafekitsune
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ancha-aus · 2 days
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RealAgeAU Drabble - Training
I am back with this AU :D @spotaus
This drabble is a lot earlier than the last few drabbles. shortly after Nightmare's first birthday, and kidnapping.
The gang decides they should really start to learn more about their new powers :3
First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble
*------------------------*
Cross nods as he crosses his arms “You guys ready?”
Dust looks very unhappy to be up already, Horror is next to him trying to get him to stand up. Killer just grins and salutes “Yes sir!” and he throws in a wink.
Cross ignores the obvious flirt as he tells his own body to cool it. Not the time nor place.
Cross takes a deep breath and continues on with what he was saying “Good! It is time we do something which we should have done long ago.”
Killer raises a hand “Make out more?”
Dust just keeps laying in the dirt. Not making a single move to get up “We already do that now.”
Killer nods “We should still do it more.”
Cross sputters and glares “Training! We need to train!” They had tugged Nightmare in for a nap in a nice warm little nest in a sunny spot nearby them. He is still sound asleep and hopefully he will sleep right through this all.
Cross has high hopes for that as Nightmare seemed to hardly wake up whenever they made noise.
Cross glares at the two on the ground “I am serious!”
Horror chuckles and stands by his side “Calm Cookie.” And he rubs his shoulder and Cross feels part of him melt as Horror smiles at him. God what did he do to deserve them all?
Cross feels reassured and turns back to Killer and Dust his two more unmotivated mates, oooh he is still not over the fact he can call them his mates now! “I am serious! We need to practise our new powers!” especially with Nightmare suddenly getting new powers as well. They need to be prepared.
If… if anything like that kidnapping happens again… Cross had been so lucky his powers just… worked with him instead of doing the normal uncontrollable flickering in and out of view. They need to practise this and work on it! They need to be ready!
Killer sighs as he leans on his hand “How do we plan to do that exactly? I don’t have something that we can just work with without going around town and telling lies and hoping it doesn’t backfire. And Dusty still shocks us when he gets overcharged.”
Dust just points at Killer as if to say ‘what he said.’
Horror hums “May be hard… but we need to practise and learn. Having the powers and magic won’t be useful until we can control them and know their limits.”
Cross nods “We can’t count on powers we can’t control. Even if we can’t control it we need to at least understand our limits a bit better.”
Killer pouts “You guys are my limit.” Then he grins and winks as he finger guns at them “And my weakness.”
Dust groans from the ground as he just covers his face with his arm “Can’t believe I agreed to this madness.”
Killer grins and pokes his cheek “You did! And now you are stuck with me!” Killr sounds very happy about it.
Cross glares “Guys I am serious! What is Nightmare gets taken again and we can’t do anything because we don’t understand our powers!?”
Killer’s face grows dark as he crosses his arms “Won’t happen again.”
Cross glares “We don’t know that. That is why we need to practise and learn.” He checks his mates. Killer sighs but gives in with a pout and a nod. Dust may not have moved but he is still here which counts. Horror had been down for this idea from the start.
Cross nods “Good!”
Dust speaks from the ground “How exactly?”
Cross frowns as he thinks “well… we need to figure out what triggers the powers… So try some stuff…” He stands up taller “I will go first!” It is easy! He did this before. He knows how to train and practise new skills or ideas for moves. He just needs to get in the right mindset.
Horror nods and joins Killer and Dust, forcing Dust to sit up right as well.
Cross takes a few deep breaths. Something about his magic makes him able to be invisible. Lets try that first.
He thinks about hiding. About staying out of sight. About following people quietly.
Cross opens a socket but sees this three boyfriends still watching him. Okay. He is still visible.
Mmh.
Cross closes his sockets and thinks. Hiding. Being invisible. Not being noticed.
No exclaim that it worked.
Cross stops as he taps his chin in thought. He is doing something wrong with this. He doesn’t even feel his magic react to his request.
Killer leans on a hand as he watches “No luck?”
Cross shakes his skull “Not yet… It doesn’t react to me thinking and wanting to hide or anything like it… I figured that would be a trigger at least.”
Horror frowns “Nothing?”
Cross sighs as he rubs his neck “Nothing.”
Dust yawns as he watches “Maybe it wasn’t hiding. You weren’t exactly hiding when you went after those assholes who took Nightmare.”
Cross frowns and shakes his skull “I was thinking about following them and not being noticed.” Neither worked.
Dust yawns “I would say you were doing a bit more than just being not noticed or following them but sure. It is a start.”
Killer shoots Dsut a look “I mean. We always notice him anyway.”
Dust snorts and nods “Very true.”
Horror looks at both of them disapproving but shoots him an apologetic smile.
Cross however knows he has a frown on his face. Thinking back to when his powers tended to activate… Generally it was when he wanted to hide or not be seen. But when he thought about more context to when he wanted that. Then it only happened when he was already nervous about something. Normally in some way related to them being discovered and found. Or more specifically, Nightmare being found.
But when it reacted? When it actually did what he wanted and needed? It was when he was focused on hunting down the pieces of filth that took their babybones…
Cross takes another deep breath and focuses. He thinks back to that mad dash. That rushed feeling. The need to get his baby back to his side right that second.
That is when this power had answered. That is when he had had most control. Without even needing to think. It had moved and done what he wanted without having to focus.
It isn’t about focus.
It isn’t about control.
It is about trust.
Cross forces his shoulders to relax. Focusses on the trust he feels in his mates. The trust in himself to do what he can. That he is able.
“Cross you are doing it!”
Cross opens a socket and watches as patches of him are hidden and others aren’t. It doesn’t feel like being gone or being unnoticed… It feels like parts of him are covered in a thin blanket. Cross mentally grabs it and just imagines wrapping himself with it.
And he is gone from view.
“Cross you did it!” Killer cheers “Way to go Crossy!”
Cross however has no control. It is like how he trusts his body to catch him when he jumps off something. How he trusts his body to run and catch him. How he trusts his movement.
It isn’t just a power he can lead or learn to control. It is different. It is like his body.
Cross takes a few steps around. Noticing that he is completely silent as well. huh. Strange. Still Cross speaks just to test “Seems like it isn’t only sight. My steps are much more silent than I am used to.”
Dust tilts his skull confused “Well.. .when you speak we can hear you just fine…”
Horror hums “Like when you want to speak you are obvious. But otherwise hidden.”
Cross shakes his skull and his mates blink confused at him. Cross glances down and sees his is visible again. Huh. As soon as he wanted-no, tried to communicate nonverbal he became visible again.
It isn’t focus. It isn’t thought.
Cross looks up at them “It is instinct.”
Horror, Killer and Dust all share confused looks before looking at Cross.
Cross shakes his skull as he tries to put his thoughts into words “It is instincts. These powers? It is more than just power or magic or movements. It is more than skill. It is about…” he can’t find the words. It is so strange. He is used to having to practise and work and try again and again. Failing over and over until you finally get the basics and then you work from there.
The powers are still finicky. Unpredictable. But they are there. Ready to work at just the right… need? Want? Wish? Hope? Anything for them to work.
Killer hums thoughtful “huh… maybe that is why my stuff just… acts the whole time? Because when I tell white lies I want people to believe it? So it just does the thing…” He frowns “especially with the woman in fur and mud… explains why she hasn’t tried to sue us yet.”
Dust glares at him “Don’t tempt faith…” but he leans on his leg “Doesn’t explain my stuff… the static just grows a lot… and if I don’t use magic we get another thunder storm situation.”
Horror shakes his skull “it does make sense. You want to protect Nightmare. Be ready. Your magic and body and power work together to have everything it needs to act right away.”
Dust frowns before huffing as he looks to the side “Whatever.”
Cross feels his soul give a little flutter. Can you blame him?! Dust looks so embarrassed wit his tiny blush!
Killer grins as Horror “Your turn H!”
Cross nods and quickly changes places with Horror.
Horror seems to think as he stands there. Considering the ground for a moment before making a pulling motion.
The ground shudders and a tiny piece of ground seems to slowly move over while other ground moves to fill in the space left behind.
Killer sighs as he leans against his knee as he stares “Looking good!”
Cross can’t help but agree. Horror has somehow figured his stuff out just passively. By careful and gentle nudging and feeling the powers out. He hadn’t been able to explain just muttered about moving what felt natural.
Killer had sighed wishfully that he wished he could do that stuff.
Cross for one is happy Killer doesn’t have this power. He would either try to dig a very deep hole or just make a very large tower. Cross isn’t sure which option would be worse.
Horror shrugs as he moves back to the group. He joins them and Dust leans against his side. Staring hard at the ground that moved so effortlessly for Horror.
Cross smiles at Horror “amazing.”
Horror shrugs as he mutters “It is physical. I don’t create or destroy stuff. It is about moving stuff one way and pushing other stuff to fill what is left…” he shrugs.
Dust chuckles as he just leans against Horror “That is amazing…” he stares at his own hand and frowns.
Horror just pulls him closer as Killer leans happily against Dust with a large grin “Your lightning is real cool~” Killer lowers his voice in a purr as he keeps staring at Dust. Cross isn’t sure if Killer is trying to flirt right now, or force Dust to believe what he says even if Killer knows his power doesn’t work against them. Killer just continues to talk when he sees Dust roll his eyes. Killer purrs and just lays on Dust as he purrs at him. Dust looks away from him with a tiny blush.
Killer grins and purrs “So much power. Just at the tips of your fingers. Only thing keeping it from exploding and destroying everything is your control and stubbornness to keep it tempered down~ Yet not once did you ever zap Nighty with it.” Killer grins wider as Dust starts to blush and look embarrassed.
Yeah. Cross gets it. Killer can get intense with his affection… Cross also still gets overwhelmed with it.
Cross is happy they know how to help Dust. It sometimes stings a little that those three had already been so close long before Cross joined them. He notices it with moments like these. When he is lost in what to do or how to act or help and-
Oh no Kiler is watching him.
Killer looks at him critically before grinning and pulling him closer until he is right up against Dust and Killer expends to cover both their laps.
Killer grins at Cross with a clearly mischievous look in his eyes “Great idea Cross! And you figured your stuff out so quickly! You just needed a moment to learn and study your skill and boom! You understand it! and thanks to that we could better understand ours! Fucking brilliant and fucking talented. Skilled beyond believe and you know yourself and your magic so well which just makes this so much more impressive!”
Cross knows he is blushing. He tugs his little bandana up to try and cover part of his face. His bandana had been a gift from the others… because he mentioned how he used to have his own bandana much like blue used to have. And they just got him a new one. It is a nice grey one with purple stripes. It is soft and fuck now he is just more embarrassed as he tries to hide from Killer’s compliments with the very gift his mates gave him!
Horror doesn’t stop it. Instead he just smiles at them with that handsome little smile as Dust and him just have to suffer through the storm of compliments.
Killer grins as he looks so happy as he just stares up at them from his spot of honour “And then you guys just look fucking amazing when we have some time to ourselves as well.”
Cross glares as he feels like his skull will explode and he hisses “Killer. Not with Nightmare so close.”
Killer laughs and winks at them “It is fine. He is asleep anyway-”
A small yawn “Are we cuddling?”
They turn around and spot Nightmare standing next to them. One hand rubbing his sockets while he other is holding unto one of the blankets from his other nest.
Dust is quick to focus on their baby “We are taking a break from practise. You slept well?”
Nightmare yawns again and climbs over Killer to get to the spot where Cross and Dust sit against one another. Nightmare gets to his spot which makes him able to snuggle into both their sides. A happy little hum as he closes his sockets.
Cross carefully takes the little blanket and tugs it around their little child. All cozy and comfortable.
Killer’s purring has only grown in volume as he watches them. Perfectly comfortable to lay across their laps with Nightmare snuggled in against all three of their sides.
Horror pulls them closer and sighs happily “A break sounds perfect.”
Cross laughs and nods. Sure they hadn’t practised much yet but they already got their goal completed. Which was to better understand their powers.
Now? He just wants to enjoy this moment. How comfortable and loved he feels between his mates with their son.
*------------------------*
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gemini-atz · 7 hours
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Seonghwa as your Boyfriend₊˚⊹♡
('Realistic Imagines' + Astrology Based)
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Background/Disclaimer: !!This is all my own interpretation based on my personal astrology knowledge and research. I consider myself an amateur!!
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✩Gemini Notes✩ IDK what happened but I ended up getting really into writing the NSFW part of this and it got long so I'm making a part 2 for it which I'll post tomorrow night! I'll create a link at the end of this post and in my Astrology Series Pinned post. If you'd like a tag please comment!
SEONGHWA SUN Aries MOON Cancer MERCURY Aries VENUS Aquarius MARS Aries
Dating Seonghwa is pretty much like being with your best friend. He's such a caretaker and protector in your life almost from the moment he enters it. You guys probably had a base of friendship for a bit before you started dating, and it would have probably (definitely) been you crushing on Seonghwa hard first before he even notices his own feelings for you.
Aquarius Venus and really anyone with their Venus in an Air sign tend to seek intellectual or stimulating connections with people before falling romantically. For Seonghwa his partner should be someone he also considers a close friend. He'd be like the guy you'd meet in your second year of college in class because you were put in a group for an assignment and of COURSE you two turned out to be the only two that even gave a shit and tried. Showing a sincere interest in his hobbies or likes would really endear him to you, and he would try to return the favor by getting into yours. For Seonghwa, a comfortable kind of friends to lovers thing is ideal. He loves spending quality time with you but his idea of quality time is very much giving parallel play, where you both do your own thing in the same room, maybe listening to a playlist you made together. With his three Aries placements, he has the potential to have a really explosive temper. It's a little diminished by his Moon in Cancer but he's probably the type of guy who holds in all his annoyances until he can just get them out at the end of the day either through his hobbies or physical activity. Basically, he likes to keep his mind focused and his hands busy. Air Venus signs can come off as aloof occasionally to other passionate signs who literally want to be with you all the time. He's the kind of boyfriend that will give you some space if you need it, because he'll need it too. You'll be soooo tempted to go an interrupt him when he's focused on his Legos because he's just so beautiful and cute when he's focusing but the thing he loves about you is how much understanding you always give him; its all you can do to just kiss his forehead and go to read a book while laying on the couch. Eventually he'd come over to you, bouncy and energized and flop onto the couch, wiggling up to rest his face into your chest and wrapping warm, solid arms around you. "Can I show you the set I just built?" He'd ask, and of course you say yes! His eyes get so sparkly while he shows it off to you, smiling so proudly at your reactions. If you're a person who loves being spontaneous or adventurous with your plans, having Seonghwa as your boyfriend means you two will genuinely have a lot of fun together. He's the boyfriend that wants genuinely does want to go to art museums and fashion archive exhibits with you, and you guys can chat excitably about your opinions of different works, be it games, anime, fashion or music. As a couple, you are always ready to try something new and probably always have weekend plans.
As a Cancer Moon Seonghwa might gravitate toward the caretaker role in your relationship and tends to anticipate your own needs before you do, just doing little actions to look after you, like preparing your coffee or tea in the morning while you rush around getting ready for work. He isn't super big on PDA, maybe holding hands in public is as much as he's comfortable with but once you're alone....he's your personal giant teddy bear. So many hugs, so many cuddle sessions where you both play on your Switches and pause occasionally to show each other something cool or cute in your game.
You'll end up thinking its funny that some people have the impression your boyfriend is quiet or shy; If he's not saying anything, he just might not be interested in the conversation. Once you get him talking about his interests he's a certified YAPPER. And, surprisingly one of the most stubborn people you have ever met. Like, good luck feeling like you can ever "win" an argument. With both a Sun and Mars in Aries, Seonghwa feels like he can give you energy just from being near him. Aries men tend to have a lot of physical stamina and can push themselves pretty far in that aspect.
Which brings me to my next point......
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NSFW
I see Seonghwa as someone who eventually gets into orgasm denial on his partner because of just how long he can go for. That Aries stamina feels like he's the type who can cum and be ready to go again faster than you were expecting.
Read More (WIP)...
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plushibo · 1 day
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Walking in Wearing a Maid Dress
Characters included: Aether, Xiao, Neuvillette, Gorou, Itto
Total word count: 2.4k
He/Him Reader
Warnings: slightly suggestive, maid dress referred to as being “provocative”, maybe ooc Aether and Neuvillette?, Gorou’s is slightly cut off but i didn’t want it too long lol, cursing (in Itto's)
A/N: when reading x readers, do you prefer third person pronouns (they/he/she) when talking about the reader, or do you prefer second person pronouns (you/your/yours)? I prefer third, but I wanted to know your opinions!
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He drummed his fingers along his thighs as he waited. He had never been a very patient person, however, knowing his boyfriend was preparing a surprise for him made him all the more impatient. Aether tried to distract himself from the questions that swarmed his brain. You had clearly prepared for this, especially when he found out that you left Paimon with enough money to keep her occupied for at least a couple of hours.
Aether hummed to himself, laying his head on his arms and wondering what his surprise would be. A present? Or maybe you had some big news to share! Maybe you had gotten that job you were looking into. That would be amazing. He grinned at the thought. He was always so proud of you, no matter what you did. Aether didn’t notice the door quietly opening and a figure silently slipping through the crack.
You eyed your boyfriend as you debated whether or not you really wanted to do this. Venti had bought it for you, insisting it would look great on you. And, it did(not that you would ever show the outfit to Venti)! You just weren’t too sure if you liked how much skin was showing. With a deep breath, you coughed quietly to gather Aether’s attention. His head shot up and he blinked a few times with a blank expression. You could see the sudden redness start to envelop his pale cheeks.
You laughed softly, fiddling with one of the ends of the dress. It was short, only barely covering half of your thighs. It had come with a garter that was perched prettily on your thigh, right under the ending of the dress. The dress itself was colored in Aether’s signature colors- gold and white. Where one would usually find a deep black, it instead glowed with gold. Your gloves went up to your elbows and were white with little golden bows. Your maid cap was skewed slightly on your head, but it was so daintily set there that Aether couldn’t complain even if he wanted to.
“Love?” You mumbled, feeling scrutinized under his eyes. His expression was unmoving for a moment longer before he stepped closer to you.
“Darling, what are you wearing?” He asked. You visibility deflated. His eyes widened and he backtracked, “No, no, no, no, that’s not what I meant! You look, I mean, woah. You’re mine?” He whistled softly. You laughed, shoving him lightly.
“Aether! Stop!” Your words weren’t very strict. Did you truly want him to stop flowering your self-esteem? Not really. He chuckled, allowing a smirk to fall onto his lips.
“Stop? But, darling, we’re just getting started. You can’t expect to walk in here like that and receive no type of reaction.” He reasoned, moving to wrap his arms around you. Your cheeks felt warmer as he held you close to him, swaying softly as his hands drifted over your body. “We still have a few hours until the emergency food returns, anyway, might as well use it well.”
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The moment you walked into his field of vision, he was gone. You weren’t surprised to only see the remnants of his black mist starting to fade when you reached the balcony of the Wangshu Inn. Your appearance was certainly new to him. The maid dress you wore bore his signature colors- green, black, and white.
You debated giving him space or not, but then you decided that this was for him. Surely he should see it! “Xiao?” You called. When he didn’t appear in front of you, you knew he was watching you from somewhere you couldn’t see. You chuckled quietly. Even when he was embarrassed, he still wanted to see your newest mischief, you supposed. 
“Xiao, come on!” You said into the wind. “If you don’t come down here, I’ll walk downstairs in front of everyone.” You almost felt a change in the wind, almost as if he was trying to determine if your threat was credible or not. You crossed your arms and turned towards the stairs. Within seconds, the man himself appeared before you. You went to speak, only to immediately be teleported to your room at the Inn. “Xiao-”
“Why are you wearing that?” Xiao asked. He avoided eye contact, his arms crossed. He would look intimidating if it wasn’t for the deep pink coating his cheeks. 
“For you.” You teased, swaying on your feet. “I thought you might like it.”
“Well. I don’t. Take it off.” You stared at him for a second before shrugging. You went to pull it off before he stopped you. “Stop! What are you doing? Do you have no respect for the Adepti?”
“I was only following your instructions.” You said with a fake pout, leaning over to him. “Don’t you like my outfit, baby? I had it custom made. Look!” You spun around, showing him the white part of the back of the dress. “It has your tattoo on it!” Sure enough, the back of the dress had his green tattoo imprinted on it. You felt him reach out to feel it for a moment before he coughed. You spun around to see him blushing even more furiously as he avoided eye contact at all.
“I-It’s clothes. Nothing more, nothing less.” He replied, grumpily. He couldn’t look at you at all, avoiding staring at any part of you unless it was your shoes.
You smiled sweetly, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, “Cutie.” You replied. Within seconds, the black inky substance had taken his place, leaving him nowhere to be found. You chuckled to yourself, landing on the bed, “Well, that was longer than I thought he would last.” You mumbled to yourself with a grin and a laugh.
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Exactly how he appeared, Neuvillette was a gentleman. One could tell simply by looking at him that he would be respectful to all who speak to him. This fact applied to all, including you, his fiance. After the many years of being together, he was still just as respectful and polite. And, as much as you liked this, you really wanted him to lose his calm for just a moment.
The plan came perfectly. You had found an intricate blue and black maid dress with matching thigh-highs, gloves, and a maid cap. It was risque and showed much more skin than you usually did. As soon as it arrived, you were giddy to try it on. You suited up quickly, knowing your fiance would be returning home soon. You stood in the mirror, staring at yourself.
Your grin widened as you saw how flattering it looked. It was shorter than you had thought it would be, and somehow, more revealing. The neckline was lower than you thought and there was a little window on your stomach. You looked fantastic, though and you couldn’t wait to surprise him.
The sound of the door of your shared home opening made you laugh in excitement, hurrying to prep your stance behind the door of your bedroom. You heard his deep voice call your name, searching for you. You heard him walking around the house, dropping his stuff in his home office before heading over to the bedroom. The door opened slowly.
“Dearest-?” His head poked into the room, freezing when he saw the way you laid out for him. His eyes roamed your body without an indication of his thoughts. He slipped into the room, closing the door behind him before chuckling softly. “Dearest, I see you found yourself a new costume?” 
You grinned at him, spreading your legs slightly more. “Yep. And this is all for you.”
He shook his head softly, the smallest of smiles appearing on his face, “No, I believe this is for you, dear. You look wondrous.” He stalked closer, moving to press his lips to your forehead delicately. “You have an eye for fashion.” You narrowed your eyes. Surely he was jesting? Why wasn’t he making much of any reaction? He noticed your stare and chuckled again. “Expecting more, darling? Well, I can certainly give you more, if that’s really what you want.” You nodded excitedly, sitting up on the bed. He hummed quietly, leaning onto the bed over you, “Well, then let’s get started, hm?”
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You were tired of waiting for Gorou to give you attention. Every day these past few weeks, your husband had barely returned home. And when he had, he would hole himself in his office and go over his strategies over and over again. You respected his job and you knew it was very important and you would never want to get between that. But at some point, he needed to give you some type of attention, right?
Well, he hadn’t. It was annoying you. How he would walk in after days of not being home, only to kiss your forehead and move to his office where he would spend all of his time before leaving again in the morning. This time, however, you had a plan.
You didn’t want to take too much of his time, as he was a busy general and you didn’t want to sabotage his efforts or plans or anything, but you needed some attention. You bought a maid dress that fit his uniform’s colour scheme and decided to tease him the next time he returned home. You weren’t sure when that time would be, but you hoped it would be soon. You hated being so lonely all the time.
Fortunately for you, he arrived home only a few days after the clothes arrived. He greeted you like normal, saying how much he missed you and loved you, pressing his lips to your forehead before heading to his office. You frowned at his lack of effort before remembering what your plan was. With a grin, you hurried to your, supposed, shared bedroom and found the dress. Quickly, you prepared the outfit and made sure every part was put together. You glanced in the mirror. You looked good.
With a smug grin, you stalked towards your husband’s office. You opened the door and stood behind his desk. He didn’t lift his head, simply writing a note on a map. “Babe?” You called, trying to earn his attention. His head tilted in your direction, but his eyes remained focused on his paperwork. He hummed softly, inquiring what was wrong. You frowned before trying again, “Gorou?”
He sighed softly before glancing up. He froze once he saw you. His eyes went wide and he quickly turned red. His eyes locked onto your exposed thighs and you were pleased to see his tail begin to wag faster and faster. “Do you like it, baby?” You asked, suddenly very nervous of his reaction. What if he was upset?
Gorou’s eyes snapped to you, “Wh-What?” He asked, completely breathless. You hummed, giving him a little spin. “Wow.” He said quietly. Before stepping over to you. His tail was wagging uncontrollably still. “You look so, so good, my darling.” His hands shook slightly before they became still on your cheeks. He rested his forehead on yours. “I can’t believe you're mine.” You could feel your face get hotter. “I have to say this is unexpected. Why are you dressed like this?” His eyes got wide once more, “Is it our anniversary?!”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “What? No. Do you not know when our anniversary is?” He rubbed the back of his neck and said the date of your anniversary. You hummed before nodding, accepting the answer. “You’ve been distant. I haven’t seen you in a month.”
“You see me weekly?”
“But not really. I see you for fifteen minutes when you first enter the house and when you leave, but I don’t see you between those times. I just wanted you to give me attention.” You gestured to your outfit and his cheeks burned again when he looked down. His hands landed on your waist. 
“Well, you certainly got it.” He replied, moving to kiss you passionately.
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“Babe-” Itto whined loudly, nearly dragging his knees on the ground as he groveled for you. Your cheeks felt warm from embarrassment as you glanced at the people walking by in the streets. “Please!” He begged, his hands clasping together.
You walked over to him and pushed his arms down, trying to pull him to his feet. “Itto! What the fuck?! Get up, we’re in public!”
You felt him stand with you, allowing you to pull him quickly. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, spinning slightly. Your face was squished against his cheek.
“Baaabeee-” He whined again. “We have to buy it! We were just talking about something like that!” The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow as she fiddled with the packaging on the purple maid outfit Itto was begging you to buy. “I just know you’ll look so fucking perfect in it, baby.”
You smacked his arm lightly and he pouted as he set you on the ground. “Itto, we are in public, stop yelling about our private discussions!” You hissed quietly, pulling out your wallet and placing the mora for the outfit on the counter. “I’ll buy it, just stop putting attention on us.”
Your words fell on deaf ears as he whooped excitedly, taking the packaging and grabbing your hand, rushing in the direction of your house. You made a noise as you were yanked in the direction. You tried your best to keep up with him as he held your hand until you reached the house. He pushed the packaging into your arms, instructing you to change into it.
“Now?! You have a meeting with the gang in twenty minutes!”
He puffed out his chest with a giant grin, “I am the one and oni, Arataki Itto! The meeting starts whenever I arrive!” He said. You rolled your eyes with a small grin before heading inside and changing quickly. Perhaps if you were quick, you could get him to his meeting in time. 
His eyes practically bulged out of his head when you exited the bedroom in the outfit. You smirked at him as his mouth fell open comically. “Like what you see?”
“Fuck yeah, I do!” He announced, wasting no time in walking over and pressing his lips to yours. He pushed you back into the door behind you. “Y’know I think I like it when you look like this. Maybe we can use it more often.”
You moaned softly and carded your fingers into his hair. “Itto- your meeting-”
“Fuck the meeting.”
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John Shelby Vs. Breakfast - A John Shelby/Reader Short.
I haven't written for any of my Peaky lads in a hot minute, so I thought I'd do a little fun, fluffy piece for my fave ginge <3 Enjoy!
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Words - 792
Warnings - None, just John being John!
Clattering. Swearing. Burnt toast. Those are what greet you after descending the stairs, coming into the kitchen to see perhaps the most unnatural sight in the world; John cooking. Or rather attempting to.  
“Bastard, bloody thing!” Yes, the cast iron pan handle heats up while cooking eggs and bacon in it, not that he’d realise, being a man. Naturally, he’s had a woman perform these tasks for him all his life, so why would he know that? “Oh, shit, shit, shit, not again!”  
At least this time when he reaches for hot metal, he has the sense to cover the end of the toasting fork with a kitchen towel, pulling the slices of bread from in front of the fire. “Fuckin’ hell!” 
You stand and watch it, the sexy, ginger ball of stress whirling like an agitated tornado around the space, John much too predisposed by messing up the preparation of breakfast to notice you there, his entertained audience of one.  
“Alright, I can save that. Scrape the burnt bit off. Right, kettle’s almost done. Sodding hell! How the fuck do women do this and make it look so bloody easy?” 
“Because we’re magicians,” you finally speak, watching him jump before he spins around, pointing at you through the chaos of his own making. 
“You should be in bed, still!”  
Shrugging, you approach, stroking his bare forearms, his sleeves all rolled up. “I was wide awake, so I thought I’d get up.”  
He bustles, waving his arms. “No, no. Ain’t supposed to be like this. I had a plan! Bring you breakfast in bed and now it’s all bloody going wrong!” 
Casting your gaze over his shoulder, your eyebrow flutters upwards. “I don’t think that has anything to do with me coming down the stairs, John. The pan is smoking, by the way.”  
His face falls. “Fuckin’ hell!”  
“Do you want a hand?” you offer, watching him move it from atop the range, scraping the slightly overdone eggs and bacon out onto two plates. 
He waves his hand towards the table. “No, you sit down.” 
“I can do the teapot, at least?” 
More hand gestures are directed. “Sit down, bab!”  
He’s adamant to do this, so tucking your dress, you take a seat, picking up the morning paper as he butters the toast. Finishing plating up the breakfast and pouring the tea, he brings it to you, everything a little crispy and haphazardly presented, your new husband looking at you from under a few furrowed brow.  
“Don’t look nothing like when you make it, but I hope it tastes alright, at least.” 
Digging your fork in, you take a first mouthful. “It’s lovely, darling. Thank you. What made you want to cook for me in the first place, though? You always denounce it as woman’s work. Not that you should. We’re in the twenties now, us women are to have our equality.” 
“Oh, not you an’ all!” he groans, rolling his eyes. “You and bloody Pol and your women’s lib!” His little wink indicates he isn’t a hundred percent serious, picking up a slice of toast and taking a huge bite, crumbs collecting at the corners of his lips. “And I did it because I wanna make amends. Ain’t proper that we’re married and I can’t take you on honeymoon. Nah. Even a weekend up the seaside would have been nice. Got all this fuckin’ shit round me neck, though.” 
Indeed, he has. You know well who you married, and the life of a prolific gangster is seldom easy. Or, in this case, flexible enough to allow for time away from Birmingham with his new bride.  
Reaching for his hand, you stroke the freckled flesh, cocking your head. “You’ve no amends here to make, love. I know, I understand. It is what it is.” 
“Yeah, but it bloody shouldn’t be, cos’ you deserve more!” he fumes, forehead creasing. “And I can’t give it to ya right now. Feel like a right bloody joke of a husband, I do.” 
“You know what you can give me, though?” you tease, John not immediately picking up on the connotations. “A bloody good seeing to.” 
He pauses his chewing, an eyebrow arching. “Get that scran down your neck sharpish, bab. I might not be able to take you away even for a weekend, but I can take you to bed instead.”  
To be honest, is seeing a lot of time pressed against a mattress beneath your new husband not the point of a honeymoon? You’ve always thought so, at least, therefore it matters not where that mattress happens to be. Whether further afield or Birmingham, as long as John is there, it’s all the honeymoon you need.  
A slightly cremated breakfast is an added bonus, too.  
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