#was not expecting so much from this drama

[00kittenz]

── smarty. ( pjs ) 🪷

๑ Jay has had enough of your brattiness for today, there’s only so much he can take.. so he may as well teach you a little lesson, right?

pair: bf!jay ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, angst (??), small age gap (jay is 5 years older), d/s dynamics, bratty!reader, slight ddlg themes, spanking, p.ssy slapping, oral (f. rec), edging, crying, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, reader is implied to be a curvy/thick girly but anyone can read tbh ! | words: 1.7k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“what’d i tell you about saying things like that?”

“i don’t care, it’s true !” you snarled, if it hadn’t been made clear how aggravated you were, it sure as hell was now.

you and jay spent the weekend with his parents at a resort somewhere in jeju. everything was going fine at first, that was until an unexpected guest invited themselves to join your little ‘family trip’. her name was hanna ? halie ? you don’t know and you didn’t care. what fogged your mind for the rest of the trip was how she clung up onto jay like the smoke to dry ice.

what agitated you even more about her was her need to call you out asking you a million questions about your clothing and how she’s so shocked that jay settled down with someone like you. all of her backhanded compliments would rub you the wrong way and she just gave you weird vibes. it’s as if you weren’t “pretty enough” to date him; according to her at least. don’t get it twisted, jay definitely shut all of that down. he wouldn’t let any woman pin you as anything less than you were. a fucking goddess.

“why’re you acting like this? what’d i even do?” he paused. “what haneul does has nothing to do with me.” he continued, eyes focused on the road. he’s become fed up with your constant nagging. maybe it’s just his level of maturity that makes him unable to see it, but he doesn’t understand why you worry so much, it was as if every ‘i love you the most’ ‘you’re my favorite’ ‘it’s only you’s’ didn’t matter. he felt like his words held no weight whatsoever.

“nothing to do with you ? hah, you’re the one who let her bombard our vacation. might i add family vacation.” you sterned, shifting your body closer to the door of the vehicle, looking out the window.

“what did you expect me to do y/n? she’s been a family friend for years now, i can’t just tell her to fuck off and go somewhere else. she’d go crying to my mom about how mean i was to her and that’s just extra drama that i don’t need right now..” he exhaled heavily, glancing at your avoidant figure. when he got no reply from you he left it be, turning up the music to avoid the awkward atmosphere the both of you created.

๑ ๑ ๑

“babe, can you pass me my frames ?” jay dared to ask even though you’d been ignoring him since the incident from earlier.

“y/n.” “please ?” watching as you hadn’t budged even a bit he grew upset. it was already bad enough for him that you were acting like he didn’t even exist, which was fine. though, he wouldn’t just take your constant disrespect.

so he got rid of what seemed to be your main source of attention. your phone.

“what the fuck, jay !” you reached at him. “give me my phone !”

“jay !” he mocked, his voice altering to sound high pitched like yours. “don’t you see that i’m trying put things back together? why do you have to act like such a child.” he was disappointed in you. you were a fully legal adult, yet your actions said differently.

“strip.” jay broke the silence you let fill the room. you were hesitant, and confused, but at least you were actually looking at him now. “you heard me, now.” his brow raised as his mouth slipped a scoff.

were you just gonna let him boss you around ? definitely not. were you feeling intimidated ? yes. but your pride stood stronger than the trouble you’d get into. you breathe heavily finding your way to the door of your bedroom for your dramatic escape; until you felt a tug at your arm and then the softness of your mattress, cosigned with the weight of your built boyfriend.

“i guess i have to do everything myself today, huh ?” jay sounded calm but you knew otherwise, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let this play out just to see this side of him. ‘cause you did. hell, you felt your wetness dripping past the wall of your ass, the sticky sensation sending your body chills.

the jingle of his belt caught your attention, but before you could even glance at him, your face was meshed with the comforter of your shared bed. you shriek.

“jay— !”

“oh now you wanna talk ? huh, funny.” his hand sent goosebumps throughout your body as he runs his palm over your clothed ass. “it’s a shame you don’t listen. now your pretty tails gonna be all red.” he pinched the fabric of your skirt flicking it upwards onto your lower back.

“ ‘m sorry..” you uttered feeling him tug at your underwear.

now, jay was ignoring you. all you felt was him adjusting your waist, so that your ass sat in the air.

“‘m really sorry..ja—” you pause, shrieking at the leather that came in contact with your silky skin. if you could describe the feel of it, it’s like a slow burn, a slow burning that spread like wildfire everytime he unleashed the branded weapon on you.

discipline is a topic your parents took lightly. yeah, they disciplined you, but it was never a ‘bend over my knee’ type of discipline. more like, every morning you wake up ‘sit in that corner’ type of discipline. jay never went soft on you when it came down to it. he wanted to make sure you never do whatever you’re in trouble for again.

“crying ? what’re you crying for,” jay never pushed aside your emotions, he had to hear you out or his guilt would eat him alive. hearing you sniffle shot a sort of worry in him.

“listen, you put yourself in this situation—” he paused throwing his belt. “you already know what happens when you wanna act like a brat.” he palmed your cunt. he wasn’t going to baby you this time, that’s all he ever did. maybe this was partially his fault too..

subconsciously, you felt yourself grinding on his hand. you were needy, you always were after a punishment, even if he didn’t know. but now, you were on display. there was no way he wouldn’t find out.

“you’re such a fucking slut,” his thumb caressing your entrance, pushing your sweetness through your dewy folds. “already so wet for daddy, hm?” his thumb slid through your sticky walls in a in and out motion. your slick caking his finger everytime he pulled it from inside you.

“please..” was a constant that came from your mouth. you didn’t know what you were pleading for. more ? less ? what was it ? you only knew that he made you feel so good. the look of him drenched you. you wanted him to slut you out. ruin you.

“please ? please what?” he couldn’t help but snort at you. the mere thought that you can get what you want with just a please— scratch that. the thought that you think you can get whatever you want after testing his patience, made him laugh. “please.. forgive me ?”

“i dunno..m” you slurred, you were estatic. just his thumb, making you feel so dumb. it made you feel small, like you were nothing but a tiny spectacle of dust.

“you dunno..? wan’ me to help you find out ?” you were flipped onto your back before you knew it. once you saw the shift in his eyes change, you knew what he was prone to do. the thought itself making you spread your legs wide open.

you even made the mistake of trying to rub yourself. that quickly got disposed.

“you lost your damn mind ?” his hand reached down to slap your weeping pussy.

“baby, i can’t wait.. please!” you whined watching as he kneeled down, face between your begging thighs, hands cupping each pretty chunk of flesh.

“but you can.” “matter of fact, you will.” he blew onto your core. the cold sensation bringing your hips to a jolt. his eyes scanned your smaller figure watching every expression that played out on your face, then down to your breasts. “lift up your shirt, let me see your beautiful body, baby.”

earning yourself a “good little girl.” when you comply.

๑ ๑ ๑

you hadn’t gotten a break since he started his mouth on you. drinking in your first orgasm, then the second. seems like you were now on your third.

“fuck.. jay.” you groaned your hips aching to move in his grasp. you’d try not to breakdown whenever his nose came in touch with your throbbing clit.

“you done ? talk to me baby.” he growled against your heat. his warm breath made you thirsty. he was eating you like it was his last supper. ripping you to absolute shreds.

“i’m gonna come, daddy..” your legs were shaking, your voice was whiney, and you needed an exhale. once he started sucking on your clit your back arched. at him, the feel, and the thought of him, making you feel.

“yeah, you gonna come for me ?”

“yeah.. wan’ come for you..” you spoke through labored breaths. once your moaning got louder, he stopped. he’d love to make you come, third times a charm. but he wasn’t going to. he basically lured you in just to trick you.

“jayy !” “it was right there, i was about to cum !” you childishly whined at the begging sensation between your legs. the quivering feeling making you force your legs closed to suppress the throbbing feel. you felt his hungry stare on you. you knew he wanted you. it’s when you realized this wasn’t an after punishment treat. he was edging you. right after overstimulating you. how cruel..

“aww, look at you ! my pretty girl..” he pouted at you, your sad, twitching state. you were groaning for more as he watched you. pitying you. how could you have thought it was over? after a mere spanking ? silly.

“i guess you really thought huh.” he cackled. “ooh ! should we order room service.. i’m kinda hungry. you ?” he got up to go and search for the phone.

maybe you did deserve this. shouldn’t be acting so damn bratty all the time, even if it’s in your nature to piss him off. now look at you. eyes all watery, and a mess between your legs.

oh well, not his problem.

[pretentious-blonde]

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

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.”

[sneppu]

The Reasons Why Severus Snape is Secretly a Cat, Actually.

I'm saying he's a neglected and abused stray little black cat and here is why

He's very meow meow. VERY kitten.

Black cats are vilified and assumed by some to be evil. Coincidentally, both of these things happen to Snape as well.

Difficult to befriend. Cats are already picky about who they like, and Cats who have had it rough are even more difficult. One cannot just waltz up to a cat like that expect friendliness, or even indifference for that matter.

Extremely bad, no good, very bad luck with dogs. Seriously, the man MUST have dog trauma by now. Werewolves? Sirius, one of his biggest haters and tormentors, a dog animagus? even Fluffy mauling his leg?? The first two were marauders, yes, but that's not a good thing when it comes to Snape. (not all dogs and cats dont get along, but its certainly interesting. Personally, I headcanon him as a definite cat person who has a bad associations with dogs but thats a whole other post.)

Very hissy and snarly and unpleasant when threatened - and sometimes, even when YOU think there's no apparent threat! This is premium Gato™ Behavior. An abused little shelter cat, horribly unsocialized, becoming hyper defensive anytime anything happens to him, even if the thing that is happening is kind.

it fits with the idea that hes "mean for no reason" because there IS a reason - cats are complicated little guys! Where you see a nonissue, He might see a threat. Where you see kindness, he might see mockery. Where you see playfulness he might see cruelty, and so on. After all, he's been on the receiving end of it all too often.

Cats like this usually end up stuck in shelters - not a home - because no one will take them. They're too offputting, they're too mean, they're too much trouble. One could argue that Hogwarts itself IS that shelter in this scenario; a place to be, but not a home. Not really.

Worth noting: maybe to Harry, Hogwarts can be considered a sort-of Home, but he actually found kindness and friends there. Severus lost his only friend and was tormented there. Better than his incredibly shitty situation with his family? Certainly! but Shelters often are.

SWM fits as well; A moment of extreme distress from being humiliated, afraid, and overwhelmed? all those jeering laughing faces while he is vulnerable and unsafe, defenseless at the hands of people who have continuously hurt him for years?? and to see and know that his friend - his BEST friend - the only friend; the only PERSON, he has, is there holding back a smile as it is happening too? Have you ever met a cat in distress? of course he lashed out. It's honestly astounding that he didnt lash out MORE.

and while on the subject of SWM, him lashing out at Lily applies here too. A cornered, distressed cat (especially one with a history of abuse) sees everything as a threat , even people it is normally friendly to, if it's distressed enough. Have you tried to bathe a cat? or maybe tried to coax one to get into a cat carrier for the vet? these things are very difficult but manageable at the best of times but "vulnerable, afraid, humiliated, and threatened" are NOT the best of times, I fear.

it even works with his occlumency and the way he deals with vulnerability as well. Cats, when in pain, do their best to hide that pain. This is because to be outwardly hurt is to be vulnerable, and that can lead to predation by bigger animals. Severus too, hides his vulnerability. The things that truly matter to him, his worries, his soft and squishy bits, and loyalties all carefully locked away.

Rivalry with Minerva?? that's just good ol' unserious cat drama. Have u ever seen an indoor cat staring down a stray through the window? silly little creatures. They'll grumble about it and act like its on sight (and maybe it is!) but when you're not looking, there'll be sniffing through the glass and pretending they dont care while they nap suspiciously close by.

Starved for affection and touch. An abused stray, past all the hissing and the fear and violence, once they're finally given a chance and finally understand that they are safe, just wants to be loved. They usually end up being the most affectionate and loyal cats of all! only to those they feel safe with, of course.

And speaking of loyalty, that applies here too. He was loyal to Lily, the first and only person to show him kindness (though my feelings for her are very complicated) and he was later loyal to Dumbledore. Unfortunately, neither of these people ever truly took in the stray, not really. And so the Stray was never actually socialized, and never completely safe, and never actually given a home.

and finally.. his death. Cats have a tendency to hide when nearing death, or dying.. and as such, often die in solitude. Severus may not have exactly had a direct hand in this of course, but.. there's something about him dying in this shitty little shack, far away from the action, presumably alone (or so he thought until Harry and his friends materialized out of nowhere under the cloak.). He wasn't actually alone in his actual final moments, but in the time leading up to it? Very lonely.

In a way, one could say that Lily came closest to adopting the stray Sev cat. And maybe she would have! maybe she wanted to take in the stray at one point - had planned to, even! But her friends told her he was dirty and gross, "who knows where that things been! he's probably diseased". and The marauders kept tormenting him, making him increasingly defensive and hissy and violent, as cats often are in that situation and then it was also "look how cruel and mean he is! he'll only hurt you". and maybe when the time finally came and that defensiveness finally WAS aimed at her it only confirmed what she had already begun to believe. And then she decided she wasnt a cat person after all. Who knows? One could make an argument for all of that. Do i see things that way? maybe, maybe not. My feelings toward every character who is not Snape are largely indifferent for the most part.

Verdict: Severus Snape is a Cat. He is a little kitten meow meow. Give this man a little cauldron to curl up in asap

[g1rld1ary]

camp counselor!james potter x reader 2

wc: 1989

cw: swearing, nothing

prev

TAG: @lovemenotts

Camp had started in full swing, as expected. You’d spent the whole day jumping from task to task; handing out bandaids, sorting out friendship dramas (how were there already dramas when the kids had been there twenty minutes?) and introducing yourself to the new campers. Things were going smoothly until dinner had finished and the whole camp was packed into the underdeveloped amphitheatre, ready for a night of singing and speeches.

You and James had commenced the evening with an official welcome, only one or two undermining comments on each side. James’ performative traits could come in handy but they annoyed you to no end, resulting in several pointed elbows when he ventured too far off track and approached stand-up territory.

“So what’d you think?” He asked after you’d started off the music for the night, hot on your tail.

“I think you need to fall out of love with yourself a little,” You quipped, not sparing much of a look at him.

“C’mon, you’re so convinced I’m not taking this seriously but I didn’t mess it up at all!” He whined, tailing you as you weaved your way over to the cabin group you were in charge of. There was one girl missing but you weren’t too worried, the seating arrangements weren’t mandatory, it just tended to happen on the first night of camp.

“You didn’t mess up but you are bloody annoying,” You hissed before switching on your smile as you sat down next to your campers, shooing James away to do the same. He gave a two-fingered salute and turned on his heel, you couldn’t tell if the action was sarcastic or not.

The night played on, featuring sing-alongs to 2000s classics and performances from some of the musically inclined counselors. You were even treated to a comedy set by a few fourteen-year-olds (dumb jokes that you all laughed at anyway — you were just glad they were all clean as you’d reiterated at least six times).

From behind you, you felt a tug on your shirt. A camper was leaning over to you from his seat, eyes glancing all over the place.

“There’s a girl crying near the toilets,” He said.

“What? Who? Why?” You couldn’t help the questions tumbling from your mouth. The boy shrugged.

“Dunno. She had purple glasses. Dunno.” God, sometimes you just loved kids and how insightful they could be. You did, however, know who he was talking about. Your missing camper, it was her first night at camp and so you had an inkling of why she might be crying. You thanked the boy for letting you know and climbed out of the bench seat, weaving past campers and counselors alike.

You were preparing your best soothing methods when you approached the toilet block only to find your camper wasn’t alone. Or crying very much at all. Instead, she was wiping the tears off her cheeks as she giggled at whatever James Potter was telling her, curled up next to her against the wood-panelled wall.

You stopped in your tracks to observe the pair. James’ glasses had fallen down the bridge of his nose slightly, but he made no move to fix it as he gestured wildly, clearly telling some ridiculous, exaggerated story of camps gone by. Below his natural aptitude for entertaining, though, was something softer. The way he’d glance at the girl, Gracie, between every sentence to gauge her changing mood. The comforting pat to her knee or shoulder when she made a reply or sniffled.

You’d seen James as a counselor before, obviously. You’d both been in camp since you were around eight years old and had progressed at about the same rate; becoming general counselors the same year and then moving up to head counselor. So you knew at some level that James was theoretically mature and responsible and good with kids. Not that the ‘good with kids’ part was necessarily in doubt before — everyone at camp certifiably adored him, but you thought that was because he was loud and interesting and funny. Now you could see that it was because he was soft. James Potter was warm, sunlight on a lazy afternoon, he was affectionate and he cared. That’s why everyone loved him. Though the loud, funny and interesting thing certainly helped his case.

You began to feel like a bit of a creep just watching them and approached, coughing to make your presence known before sitting down in front of the two, not caring about how your denim cutoffs would have dirt on them when you stood up. James looked up with wide eyes and it almost seemed like he was glad to see you, though that didn’t make much sense.

“What’s going on here?”

“Gracie’s feeling a bit homesick, she’s never been away from home before,” James explained for you, still rubbing a comforting hand up her arm. You figured that was the case. Gracie was eleven, still just a baby.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked her, “I’m your cabin leader.” Gracie hesitated then looked up at James.

“She’s a little afraid of you,” He stage whispered and your mouth dropped open.

“Me? I’m not scary, am I?” You played for the crowd, exaggerating your gestures to appear less threatening and accusatory. Clearly, the two had had more of a heart-to-heart than you initially thought as James answered for her once again.

“You have to admit you’re a bit intimidating, love. You command attention, you’re scarily organised and you’re a little bossy.” He trailed off into a joking tone and you rolled your eyes.

“Firstly, don’t call me ‘love’, Potter, it’s unprofessional. Secondly… I guess you have a point — not about me being bossy though. I’m not bossy.” You directed the last sentence at Gracie at the same time that James teased you for ‘being delusional’. Gracie giggled though, the last of her tears drying up. You caught James’ eye for a fraction of a second, just enough to convey the agreement that whatever you were doing was working.

“What can I do to make you less afraid of me?” You asked her and James answered once more.

“I’m already on it, actually. I was just telling Gracie here about the time you tried the obstacle course four years ago.” You groaned dramatically, covering your face in very real embarrassment.

“You are so terrible,” You whined, “That was honestly my most humiliating camp moment. I was so cocky and had the most over-the-top trash-talk known to man, then wiped out on the first obstacle.” You couldn’t help but join in with James’ laughter, and Gracie wasn’t far behind, girlish giggles far higher in pitch than yours or James’.

“Really?” She asked when she could catch a breath.

“Really,” You affirmed, “It was a total wipeout too, I went sliding right through the mud and was covered head to toe in front of the whole camp. I couldn’t get the mud out of my hair for days! I’m sure James still has some of the photos hidden away somewhere. I definitely learnt my lesson about getting too arrogant that day.”

“I definitely do,” James agreed, sticking his tongue out when you made an offended face.

“Will we get to do the obstacle course this summer?” Gracie asked, boundless enthusiasm growing in her eyes.

“Absolutely we will! Maybe we’ll even get this one to participate again.” James cocked his head in your direction.

“No, no, no. I swore on that day I would never embarrass myself like that again,” You hid behind a laugh, not wanting to admit how much the incident haunted you.

“Please, you have to!” Gracie all but squealed, clapping excitedly. You pretended to consider it for a moment, then gave your most diplomatic answer.

“Maybe. It’ll take some serious convincing though.”

When you were sure Gracie was thoroughly convinced you ushered the three of you back in the direction of the amphitheatre. Gracie ran ahead, becoming eager to rejoin the camp traditions that you and James had successfully talked up. You and James dawdled behind, not quite so pressured to return to the event you’d experienced so many times.

James threw an arm around your shoulder, forcing you to adopt his step pattern.

“We make a pretty good team, don’t you think?” He asked, just a hint too cocksure for your liking.

“You wish, Potter,” You stuck your tongue out childishly. After a beat of silence, you softened, “You did good today. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Was that a compliment?” He asked, smile growing wide across his face. You almost felt the need to cover your eyes, the blinding shine illuminating the dirt path ahead of you.

“Yeah, don’t get used to them,” You grumbled, trying to pull away but James just held on to you tighter, practically pushing his weight onto you as you tried to keep your path straight.

“You’re warming up to me,” He sang. You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might fall out. Not wanting to lead the conversation to any sappy territory you changed the subject.

“Did you really have to tell her about the obstacle course?”

“I knew you wouldn’t mind, not really. Did you want me to tell her about the first time we all got drunk instead?” You shook your head violently fast, the memory bringing colour to your cheeks even years later.

“Alright, moment over!” You ducked away from his hold on you, conveniently in time for you both to approach the amphitheatre and presumptuous eyes again. James followed a few steps behind, a dumb grin on his face you didn’t catch.

“So there was a moment?” He called, just quiet enough that it didn’t attract attention from the campers. You stopped to turn back to him, making sure he could see you rolling your eyes. Yet, you reluctantly returned the handshake he initiated — a dumb, overly intricate routine you made up in the rare instances he wasn’t completely annoying or making fun of you when you were both twelve — a silent agreement that you’d done something good together, a suggestion that maybe working with him wouldn’t be as infuriating as you assumed.

“Already falling for James?” Lily asked that night, safe in her corner of the cabin. If it didn’t require getting out from under the cozy covers you would have hit her.

“The fuck are you talking about, Evans?” You snapped with no ferocity, pulling small laughs from the other girls in the room.

“We saw you returning from a suspicious time out in the woods. What heinous acts are you two committing in there?” Marlene added with a teasing lilt. You wished they could see you rolling your eyes.

“For your information, we were comforting one of my girls. She just ran ahead and you know I don’t do running in the dark.”

“And yet, you didn’t look like you hated Potter with the heat of a thousand suns?”

“He did a good job, it’s whatever. He’s softer than I am.”

“Until now because you’re falling for him and you’re gonna be love by the end of the summer,” Dorcas sang gleefully. You protested loudly before giving up, three against one too much for you to handle at that time of night. You punctuated the end of the conversation with a decisive flip to face the wall, bringing your blanket with you. You ignored the lingering giggles in favour of sleep, apparently the only place you could avoid talk of James Potter.

[its-chelisey-stuff]

is it weird that the Choi parents might be my second favorite couple on this show? lol

At first, I was a bit upset about how long the main romance was taking to begin, but I'm really glad that the problems in the Choi family were resolved before Seunghyo continued pursuing Seukryu. I think there's something so romantic and wholesome about the fact that once your life is in complete order, with no chaos or noise around you, you can devote yourself to being in love, not to fix your problems, or complete your life, but to enrich it.

damn, they really gave the parents really good lines hahaha I just know these two actors were really excited about having to portray a romance when rarely anyone of their age gets to do that in dramaland.

And for Seunghyo it's always been Seukryu, his lifeline and light in his chaotic family life. Trying to start a relationship, trying to form this bond with a person you love it's definitely different, stronger, once everything in your life is settled and there are no traumas about relationships looming in the shadows. I've seen far too many dramas with that plotline and it feels right that this drama dealt with this before launching a relationship with our two mains.

And I was right!! The problem with the Choi parents was communication. It took a really scary situation for them to get to the place where they finally were able to talk it all out, but I'm glad no one was badly hurt and that it was before they divorced (cough cough looking at you , Queen of Tears cough cough).

I'm just really happy for all three of them, and I'm so glad that Seunghyo finally got to say his part as well, and that he sort of became a child again, scared that his parents were gonna divorce. It was hard to see him being in that state, and I have to praise Jung HaeIn for being able to convey those emotions in a way that it made them feel real and made me feel for him. Here you have a thirty-something-year-old man, with a successful career and a life already separated from his parents, but who has always lived in fear about a possibly imminent divorce, the end of his family, even if he thought it was barely holding on, it was his imperfect family! and to see him being so hurt once he got the news he had been dreading for half his life… oooff. It got to me.

Also, Seokryu looks already like the daughter-in-law. And I love that it wasn't awkward or out of place at all that she was there to look for the mom, to offer support, and/or to be witness of the family reunion and reconciliation. It made sense for her to be there, even if she took a step behind and just listened, it made sense. I'm sure the Choi parents already love her like a daughter and I'm sticking with my theory that they are gonna be the most happy with the news of the two dating, unlike the Bae parents, which I honestly do not expect much from. Sadly.

[walmartbrandwhatever]

cherry and marcia hcs because I love them so dearly.

they met when they were 6 at a park. cherry was sitting alone on a bench and marcia being afraid of nothing just sat down and started yapping.

Marcia used to be afraid of nothing except for storms. whenever there was a storm she would curl up in the corner of her room and cry.

her parents weren't around much, both working to hard to keep the life they had built so her house was often empty.

cherry having a not so good home environment would spend days upon days at marcias and they would just hang out.

cherry was the quiet popular girl who did her work but when she was at marcias house they would talk the most shit and about drama going around the school.

cherry is really good at doing other people's hair, and it's something she quite enjoys doing. someday, when things get too stressful, Marcia will let Cherry just mess with her hair as they sit in silence or talk about what's bothering her.

Marcia used to roller skate a lot when she was younger but stopped when she reached highschool and started to worry more about her staus.

cherry lowkey hates oranges. she hates anything to do with them while marcia LOVES them.

on the days where they were practicing for rodeos they find a way to fuck with eachother.

they had a game where they had gotten this small little figure and have made it a game to place it somewhere on eachother and whoever has it has to try to get it to the other person without them noticing. the last time they played marcia got it to cherry(I'm gonna come back to this later)

once they reached high school, Cherry had met Bob in her math class. at first they didn't really talk but after being paired together during class they sort of just hit it off.

Marcia and Bob? did NOT hit it off. they started unsure of each other and then turned to them, not liking each other.

there was one day where bob and marcia had ended up alone waiting for the rest of there friends and marcia got to see the true version of bob Sheldon that had been pushed down deep.

he had started talking about the stars, going into detail about the ones he knew and how important they were to him. no matter what changed in his life or the little amount of actual love he got from his family they stayed a constant. a reminder that there were nice things that even he could see.

Marcia before would have never expected it from someone like him but it made her look at him with a different light. only for a little while because that was the only time she had ever seen that side of him. after that he went back to the bob Sheldon she had known. the bob Sheldon who hated her just as much as she hated him.

Marcia was considered a weird girl who was simply friends with Cherry Valance. that didn't bother her much up until that point.

Marcia hated how Bob treated Cherry like some sort of trophy. Cherry had always told her that he wasn't like that and that he was real kind and she didn't need to worry.

the weeks when Cherry would spend hours at Marcias turned into just a few days, focusing her time on Bob which didn't hurt Marcia.

she understood that a d she respected it. she spent most of her time with bev, brill, and trip. she learned a lot with them and learned that something were better kept hidden than out.

her parents had very different ways of thinking. her father grew up with a single father who didn't have much taught her to fit in and roam with the crowd because that's how you got successful while her mother grew up with a rich family who was cold and uncaring. she taught marcia to stick up for herself and to trust those who are her true friends.

Marcia often battled between what her parents wanted her to be. she wants to make her father proud, but she doesn't want to disappoint her mother, who always taught her to be kind and true to herself.

reaching highschool she learned real quick between the difference of social class and how she needed to fit in if she wanted to make it to graduation.

Bev had told her that she needed to stop "acting so weird, you'll never get someone if you act like that," and marcia had laughed in her face then. Bev, that day, wasn't too happy with her, nearly cost her the spot she had within the small group. she learned that day to take most things with a smile and that things would be easier if she just kept others happy.

Cherry had been spending time with Bob, the nights where they both just needed to escape from their lives, the would drive Bob's car out to a reserved place and just look at the stars.

the first time Bob got real drunk she had freaked the fuck out because she would not be with someone who ended up like her father.

he the next day had showed up at her house with flowers and with an apology. she practically melted into his arms after she explained to him why she had freaked. he had promised that it wouldn't happen again, though he never kept that promise, leading to her snapping at the nightly double.

Cherry post cannon distanced herself from all the socs for the most part. she only really stayed connected to chet and somewhat marcia.

the two grew apart for a little bit as Marcia battled with the pressure of her parents and with the ideas of social class.

one night marcia just completing broke down in front of her parents. they talked for hours after that, working through their problems and how she had been feeling. her parents had always loved her, she knew that but her father rarely showed any emotion and her mother too busy fighting with her own family to realize how her own family was falling apart.

the next day Marcia asked Cherry to talk and they did. Marcia apologized from practically everything that had happened andthey both made a promise to be better, to talk things out no matter how they felt.

that's all I have rn but please feel free to add in the comments or in my inbox 🙏 also trust I'm just feeding yall until I finish this fic.

[lightsovermonaco]

an: requests and comments always welcome!

wc: 1250

Summary: Pato surprises you by coming home for your anniversary. Fluff with a slight bit of suggestiveness at the end.

One full year. One full year of dating the most thoughtful, obnoxious, beautiful, annoying soul of a man. Three hundred and sixty five days of weird faces, suggestive Snapchat captions, and random phone calls. There's been less drama and more love than you could've ever dreamed. 

You wouldn't trade the past twelve months for anything in the world. 

Dating Pato hasn't been all puppies and rainbows- although Norbi had joined the two of you on a picnic once and you had seen multiple full rainbows. There's challenges, most of which stem from the constant distance and busy schedules. But one way or another, Pato always finds a way to make you feel like he's only in the next room instead of a few states away. 

Whether it be sending you flowers after you've ranted over text or facetiming you for thirty seconds to wish you a good morning, Pato does what he can. Sometimes it's overwhelming to have him away from home so long. There's days where you aren't sure how much longer you can go without holding him in your arms or feeling his stubbly cheeks beneath your fingertips. Pato must have a sixth sense for those things however, because he always seems to know and always gives you a little more love on the rough days. 

Tonight though, you've got the man all to yourself. The lottery drew your number.  You don't know what sacrifice he's made to the scheduling gods, but he's managed to come home for your anniversary just two days before a race. And the worst part? Pato hadn't given you any warning. You'd opened the door in your pajamas, expecting your door dash order instead of the whole package. 

Once you'd attacked him and thoroughly smattered his face with kisses, you'd worked up the courage to ask how long he'd be home. 

“It's only eight hours, I have a plane later tonight to catch back to Milwaukee. But I figured a few hours is better than seeing your face on a screen.” 

“It's so much better Pato,” you murmur and steal another kiss. You can't help it; you're addicted to him and have been in withdrawal for far too long. “I missed you so fucking much.” 

“Trust me, I missed you more.” Pato nudges your jaw with his nose. You understand his request and tip your head to give him full access to your neck, letting any thoughts of that very important work project that had to be finished this week float away on the breeze. 

If you only had eight hours with your man, you were going to make the most of them. 

“Upstairs,” you breathe, fingers tangling in his freshly styled hair. “Now, Pato.”

“Ma'am yes ma'am.”

**********

After spending a few hours wrapped up in each other, Pato had finally convinced you to go out to lunch with him. He'd picked your dress, a burnt orange satin number with thin straps and a slit up the leg that nearly went to your hip.

With Pato dressed in a charcoal quarter zip that's shamefully unzipped and his hair fluffed just how you like it, it's a miracle you've made it through the first course without jumping him. Because with that much of his neck on display and the proof of your earlier fun poking out from under the collar, it's taking every ounce of willpower to keep from dragging him out of this fancy restaurant and begging him to put some marks of his own on you. 

"My eyes are up here hermosa." 

"Hmm? Oh- no I know Pato, sorry! I just got distracted." Pato shifts to allow more skin to show. His smirk tells you he knows exactly what he's doing.

“I seem to distract you a lot don't I? Like before when I got home and you were working on that project…” Pato swipes his index finger through the pasta sauce on his plate and licks it clean. Thoughts swirl in your head like mist, though the only one that materializes is the memory of where those fingers had been an hour ago.

“Uh… sure…” 

“Not doing yourself much justice here, are you?” Pato tips his head, brown eyes warm and sparkling. “Good thing you're cute- you're not a very good conversation partner when your head is up on mars.”

“Well maybe if you wouldn't be so hot all the time,” you mumble, spearing pasta on your fork. “It would make my life a lot easier. Then maybe I could get through a meal without losing my train of thought.”

Pato's cute little dimples are on full display when he smiles. Your stomach does flips as if you're back in high school sitting across from your crush. It's crazy how he still has that effect on you now. You'd once worried that the spark would fade and you'd get bored of each other. Now though, you're positive that it's still as alive and hot as the day you met. 

“We both know you don't mean that. These,” Pato taps one of the bruises on his neck, “are proof that you love me just how I am.”

“Yeah well, all I'm saying is once in a while you could show me some mercy, you know? You c-could-” you stutter when Pato's hand meets your knee. Hidden under the table and exposed by the slit in your dress, his thumb moves over your smooth skin whilst his eyes remain trained on you. 

“Hermosa? Everything alright?” Pato smiles sweetly as his hand slides halfway up your thigh. Now you know why he asked for the tiniest table tucked away in the corner. Considering Pato's smug grin, his public torture is having the desired effect. 

“I'm- I'm fine Pato. Perfectly fine.” You clear your throat and shift in your seat so that you're out of his reach. For a split second, you feel guilty when Pato frowns. But instead of giving up, he ups the ante. Pato simply moves his own chair so that he can replace his hand exactly where it was. You should've known he wouldn't let you get away so easily; Pato isn't one to be deterred. 

“Actually,” you purr, laying your hand on his arm, “it would be better if you could let me finish eating in peace.”

“Mmm let me think about it.” Pato drums His fingers on your thigh and purses his lips. You both know the answer before the, “no,” leaves his lips. 

You huff and curl your fingers so your nails dig into his sweater. “This isn't fair Pato. I can't do anything to you, and you're set on torturing me.”

“I think the solution is simple.” When you stare at him blankly, Pato shrugs. “Finish your meal. The quicker you finish eating, the quicker we can get home, yeah?” Pato's wink is accompanied by a dip of his hand between your thighs, there and gone. As quick as it is, his touch is still enough to leave you scrambled. 

“Just pay the bill. I'm done eating.”

“But I ordered dessert-” 

“And I’ll be the dessert as long as you get me home in the next twenty minutes.” a mischievous glint dances in Pato’s eyes. His hand stays exactly where it is whilst the server retrieves the tab. Pato takes one look at it and leaves cash on the table, not bothering with change. 

Pato makes it home with three minutes to spare, and as promised, makes you his dessert. 

[scuderia-hamilton]

you're saying that Daniel didn't deserve this, but you're still hating on him for that shit he said back in february

make up your mind for fuck's sake

wow okay appreciate you being so civil and nice lmao

just so we’re clear, i’m upset about the principle of this situation cause i hate teams dropping drivers mid-season without warning and treating them like garbage, because they’re all human beings at the end of the day. ultimately they’re all risking their lives weekend after weekend and the teams not having the decency to at least give them a proper goodbye is mad disrespectful.

now that we got this out of the way, the truth is i couldn’t care less about Daniel leaving. it is what it is. i’m not a fan, i never have been and never will be. "that shit" he said back in february was him defending a sexual abuser and i don't know about you, but that's just not something i can easily forget. but what was i expecting from the same man who said that it's "not in his nature" to understand human rights issues and he doesn't watch the news because it's too much drama and negativity and it makes him feel shitty? his next adventure should be teaching weaponized incompetence to beginners.

i can feel bad for him, cause i (unlike him) possess empathy and compassion, along with critical thinking skills. i really tried to refrain from haterism, but i'm honestly so tired of trying to be the bigger person. fans like you (from this visceral reaction, i assume you're a fan) are part of the reason why DR is insufferable and trying to have a nuanced conversation is a lost cause. there is a middle ground between hatred and unquestionable support, i hope you know that.

i don't think he deserved that seat to begin with and i think deep down all of you know that, cause the only thing y'all could come up with to defend him was that he smiled a lot and had a great personality (which is honestly baffling to me, cause his personality is that of a high school bully's, but to each their own, i guess). but y'all are the same people who then turn around and call Checo racial slurs, say that he's washed and call him a pay driver. talk about your driver's skills, let's hear it.

and to make it clear i am over the moon happy for Liam Lawson, cause i think he actually deserves to be in the sport and i am happy that he was the one who replaced him. hating on him also says more about y'all, than him, cause that won't actually bring back your mediocre driver. log off, go out and touch some grass, cause it is never that serious. harassing a young driver who's just trying to do his job and achieve his life long dream over a poorly managed situation he had absolutely no control over is honestly crazy behaviour.

i hope all this is enough for you to know where i stand on this whole thing. if you would've been nice, you would've gotten a nice answer, but since you chose to be an asshole on my own blog, anonymously at that, you get what you came for.

have the day you deserve.

[mean-vampyre]

Eloise in part 2 could've planning the heist of the century to steal a couple of thousand from bridgerton pockets in the name of feminism for her friend in need. Instead she was having badly executed one-sided dyke drama with her ex best friend for marrying her brother while Cressida was experiencing the horrors :/

[keepthetension]

this was made especially for those of us who cut ties with our shitty families, huh

i cried so much this whole episode. i know that i can't be in that house and be who i am at the same time, but the guilt and shame never really go away. i love that this episode said, wholeheartedly: fuck what society says, you should be wherever allows you to be happiest

anyway! you always hear that family estrangement is rare in asian communities, but i did it! and you can do it, too! dump your shitty family! i believe in you~

[hollymacycomic]

Holly & Macy and Everyone Else

Chapter 4: Page 37

Start at the Beginning | About the comic | Tip-jar 

🌘 Support the comic & read the next page now on Patreon! 🌘

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Drew WWX and LWJ after I finished my rewatch of The Untamed a few months ago. I have gotten marginally better. May this set a benchmark for what to expect from this blog.

June 2023 redraw, June 2024 redraw

[nano30cm]

they're gym buddies :)

[heuldoch7b]

Your Horus??? HELLO???? SIR I AM FREE FEB 14

my dyke grandma who LOVESSSS business mens fashion played a part in the choices i made for him

also (╥﹏╥) im so overwhelmed (positively) over the kindness you've all shown me. i really dont know what to do with myself? i struggle a bit with communication and talking to people, but i really am just emphatically thankful and happy!! heres to more! i wish i could return everything you all do for me

[mitskijamie]

Jamiegender scholars should we discuss the recurrant emasculation by older men

[lilidawnonthemoon]