Tumgik
#WHY DOES IT KNOW ICE BEAM??
norue67 · 2 years
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The existence of Ingo’s alpha fight means that at some point, Ingo waltzed into Jubilife Village followed by three enormous, towering monsters. And the entire village was like “yeah this is fine, he probably knows what he’s doing” lmao Also note that his alphas all have red eyes. That means he didn’t even catch them, they’re still wild. This man somehow convinced a bunch of wild alphas to fight for him just by talking to them nicely
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disneyprincemuke · 3 months
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who the hell is rocky? * fem!driver
who the hell does sebastian keep calling 'rocky'?
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver
notes: here ok now she has a nICKNAME OK IT'S ROCKY IT'S ROCKY OK BECAUSE SHE LIKES ROCKY ROAD ICE CREAM NOW
(series masterlist)
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she presses her lips together, turning the knob and peeking in. “seb,” she whispers into the room. “are you in here?”
sebastian raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “yeah, why?”
“great, so i wouldn’t feel as bad sneaking in here.” she pushes the door open and quickly shuts the door behind her. she beams at him, shoving her hands into her jacket. “hi!”
he looks up at her, head still hung low from the papers he was looking at. “what do you want?”
“oh, we’re playing hide and seek with jack and laura,” she grins, walking over to the empty seat at the his table. she sits down and tucks her legs under her body. “and oscar, logan, mick… liam… i’m not in the mood to be found so soon.”
“so you’re hiding here? in my office?” sebastian raises an eyebrow, looking back down at his papers. “isn’t that cheating?”
“they didn’t specify where i couldn’t hide.” she puts her palms down against his table with a small grin. she extends her neck a little bit. “what are you doing?”
he flips the papers towards his body, shielding its contents away from her. “i’m looking at data. you’re not a cheater — go play hide and seek properly.”
she shrugs nonchalantly. “i’m the oldest child. of course, i bend the rules to make sure i win.”
“really? oscar and logan let you do that growing up while they were around?”
“no, they put a stop to that when i turned 14,” she presses her lips together and rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “but they can’t erase that trait when i spent my whole life polishing it.”
sebastian blinks. “seriously?”
“yeah,” she nods excitedly. “how do you think i got this scar above my brow?”
“from falling down.”
“no, ciara and i fought cause i changed the rules at the last second so that i’d win and then she attacked me.” she lets a moment pass when sebastian finally lifts his head to stare at her. “we were playing uno — it’s a very intense game.”
he furrows his eyebrows. “get out of my office, rocky!”
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sebastian approaches the two hunched over in the corner. “have you guys seen rocky?”
logan lifts his head. “rocky? who the hell is that?”
“hey, what are you guys doing?” they turn around, seeing the younger driver with an ice cream pint in her hand with mick trailing behind her.
“i told you to stop eating ice cream, god damn it!” sebastian screams, hands darting forward to grab the pint from her.
“hey, it’s the lactose intolerant one!” she shrieks, running to hide behind mick. the pint pokes out of the side towards logan. “want some?”
logan nods, taking the pint from her. “yeah, sure.”
“wait,” oscar speaks up, waving his arms in the air. “seriously, who is rocky?”
“this dumb ass,” sebastian scoffs, gesturing at the girl now eating her ice cream again. “all she ever eats is rocky road! hence, rocky! breakfast is rocky road, lunch is rocky road—”
“dinner is rocky road,” she mocks, stabbing her spoon into her pint. “it’s okay that i’m eating this because mick got me the no milk version!”
“that doesn’t even make sense! chocolate has milk in it! so does ice cream! do you know what ice cream is made out of?”
mick sighs. “she wouldn’t stop bugging me for ice cream, okay?”
logan laughs, throwing his head back. he clasps his hands together, “tomorrow we’ll teach you how to say ‘no’ to rocky. it took us a long time to figure it out too.”
“really? that’s just what everyone is gonna call me now?” she tilts her head, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “we spend our whole lives without giving me a nickname and seb just comes along and calls me ‘rocky’ and everyone is just gonna ride along with that?”
“yeah, you can say that,” oscar nods with a smile. “it’s fitting, anyway. you would die for rocky road ice cream… right?”
“fair argument.”
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“max,” oscar whispers. “have you seen rocky?”
max raises an eyebrow, pausing his conversation with charles. he tilts his head. “yeah, she’s in my garage.”
oscar throws his head back, blinking blankly at the older driver. “what would rocky be doing in your garage?”
“what do you mean? she’s part of my team,” max trails off in confusion, lips pursed in confusion. he glances at charles next to him, who simply shrugs and looks at oscar as well.
“no, she’s not. what business would she have being in your garage?” oscar raises an eyebrow. “unless you guys are scouting her for the future?”
“what? we’ve had rocky on the team for months.”
“she wouldn’t do that. she doesn’t like red bull.”
“red bull literally created her.”
“no they didn’t.”
charles furrows his eyebrows, looking between both of them. “see, i don’t think you guys are talking about the same thing.”
max points at oscar. “what are you talking about?”
“who are you talking about?”
“my race car? her name is rocky.”
oscar’s frustration slowly washes away as realisation dawns over him. he’d completely forgotten that max named his car. he laughs slightly. “right! sorry, mate. i was talking about (y/n),” he explains. “rocky.”
max raises an eyebrow. “who passed the bill to call her that?”
“seb.”
“oh, seb is good with nicknames!” charles beams, patting oscar’s shoulder. he presses his lips together. “why rocky though? that doesn’t really…”
“she eats a lot of rocky road ice cream,” oscar smiles. “therefore, the nickname.”
max frowns. “she’s got the same name as my car… that’s not… that will be confusing.”
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marcsburnerphone · 3 months
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And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6
—————-
You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.
You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note. 
Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John 
(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick
You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.
Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.
————-
1 month in
You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you. 
You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.
————-
2 months in
No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend. 
However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.
Also you bought a new rug.
————-
3 months in
You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways. 
You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it. 
Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again. 
————
4 months in
The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do. 
You should've stayed up the night John left.
————
5 months in  
Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut?  Fuck it, yes. 
So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No. 
———
6 months in 
John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick. 
You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that. 
———-
7 months in 
At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin. 
You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter. 
You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. 
“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.
You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do. 
“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing. 
“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.
You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer. 
“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.
“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh. 
“Better?” You ask softly.
“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch. 
“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.
“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.
“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.
“Who?” 
“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”
“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.
“He’s perfectly fine.” 
“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.” 
“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.” 
“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.” 
“I know.” 
You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.
————-
When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room. 
“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.
“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.
“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.
“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.
“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..
“If you’d like.” 
“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.
You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.
“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight. 
“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk. 
“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.
“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.
“Yeah so?” You smile.
“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.
“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner. 
“Can I do your beard and mustache?” 
“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says. 
So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.
“All done.”  You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.
“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away. 
“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.
It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated. 
The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.
—————
The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.
“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots. 
“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.
“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.
“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.
How had he missed this all along?
“Would you like to go out for drinks?”
“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.
“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.
“Yeah.” 
-
You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.
“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you. 
You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.
“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.
-
“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs. 
“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push. 
“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it. 
“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door. 
“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.
“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.
“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain. 
He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect. 
“You alright?” He asks.
“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.
“Never been better.”
He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car. 
“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one. 
“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”
“I’ll fall regardless.”
“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.
“What?” You laugh. 
“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”
“What if we both fall?” 
“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.
“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.
“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in. 
“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true. 
You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.
“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.
“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.
“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor. 
He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.
“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.
“When I’m out, martinis.” 
“Espresso?” 
“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.
“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.
You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again. 
“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.
“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.
“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.
“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.” 
“Your fears are true.”
“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?
“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.
“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.
“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.
You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.
“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?” 
“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.
“That’s just not right.”
“No?” 
“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.
“What about you, why no boyfriends?” 
“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.
“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.
“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.
Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.
“John?” 
“Yeah doll.”
“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced. 
“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.
“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?” 
“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.
He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side. 
The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park. 
“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.
“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.
“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm
“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air. 
“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath. 
“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips. 
He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him. 
“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.
—————
I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.
comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)
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fangswbenefits · 11 months
Text
For Science
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
𓂅 𓄹 Warnings: 18+. Fangs. Biting. Venom!play (is that a thing?).
You eyed Jessica Drew with utmost interest as she worked her way around Miguel’s surveillance station, easily dragging files in and out of the multiple screens.
“Why do you get access to his stuff and I don’t?” you asked as sudden jealousy crept in.
“We go way back,” she started, pulling some information to her watch. “You’ll get there in time…”
Your ego soared.
“… if you don’t keep annoying him.”
It immediately plummeted.
“He’s easy to piss off,” you beamed. “And I’m easily entertained. What can I say? Match made in heaven.”
She chuckled at your antics. “Just don’t get yourself expelled.”
You nodded and waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So have you heard that rumour about him?”
Jessica finished setting up her watch and mission logs and threw you a suspicious look.
“Well… the one that says his venom does more than causing paralysis,” you wiggled your eyebrows, letting the not so subtle implication dangle.
“You know what? One day Miguel is going to kick you out and I won’t do anything about it.”
“What? I didn’t come up with this!”
It was absolutely true. You hard heard it from some spiders one night while strolling throught the lobby. Rumours came and went. No one thought much of them and these were just harmless fun.
“Well, I’m not commenting on this.”
“Fine! But it’s fascinating.”
Jessica sighed, rotated on her feet and went down the stairs. “You can go ask Miguel, then.”
“Ask Miguel what?”
You froze in place as spider-man 2099 entered the dark room, eying both of you.
“Oh, I’m out,” Jessica snorted, heading towards the exit. “You two have fun.”
Miguel kept his gaze on your and you waved a hand at him.
He frowned.
“Lyla, reroute all the main sectors to earth-1610,” he said, pressing on his dimensional travel watch. “Any possibility of a canon event being disrupted must be reported to Jessica.”
The AI appeared next to him and adjusted her heart-shaped glassed up the bridge of her nose. “Is she tagging along, too?” she pointed at you.
He shook his head. “Not a chance. She’s more useful here.”
“Hey!” you were about to protest, but decided against it.
You knew there was a compliment in there somewhere. Your past missions had not gone without some minor bumps, which was why it had been decided the previous day that you’d tag along Miguel for a couple of weeks to hone your off-field abilities.
“Anything major must be reported to me.”
Jessica nodded but Lyla was not so easily dismissed. “I didn’t hear you say iiit.”
Miguel rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your services as always, Lyla.”
She took a dramatic bow and vanished.
He took large steps towards the platform, greeting you with a curt nod.
How would you describe your relationship with Miguel O’Hara? Tense? On the verse of collapse each time you teased him? Friendly? But only when you didn’t have to spend more than one hour together.
“Morning to you, too, boss,” you saluted.
He let out an exasperated sigh as he checked the screens in front of him.
Maybe you should go easy on him. You were already on thin ice, but just adored pushing him. There was something about teasing him that just did wonders to you.
“Did you sleep well? Did you get some food?”
“Don’t start getting on my nerves.”
You raised both hands, feigning a look of innocence. “I did nothing. You’re paranoid.”
His head turned to you.
“You do have an issue obeying the chain of command. Your last mission was a disaster, because you got into an argument with Peter instead of focusing on the anomaly — don’t interrupt me!” he said pinching the bridge of his nose as you were about to defend yourself. “You have much to offer, but you’re also all over the place and lack discipline. I don’t think you—”
You gave him a jaw-popping yawn which effectively cut him off.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You do know that I was pressured by others to let go of you.”
A long pause stretched out.
“Then why didn’t you?”
In your mind, you had hoped your growing friendship with him had played a part, but…
“You have potential,” he said with a sigh. “One day you might even be better than me.”
Well, that was a high praise and your spine snapped straight instantly. “Really?”
“Maybe… probably not,” he concluded. “But if you keep your focus and work hard, you will be a very skilled spider.”
You rolled your eyes. “Woah, thanks a bunch!”
In truth, you knew Miguel was trying his best to smooth over your bruised ego, but your pride got the best of you.
“Any questions you have, just let me know,” he said reassuringly while glancing at the screens in front of him.
“I can ask anything?”
“Yes.”
“Sooo… have you heard that rumour about your venom?”
It was too early in the day to be so serious, so you genuinely saw no harm in lightening the mood.
He threw you a side glance. “Be specific.”
“Well… that it can cause extreme pleasure,” you blurted out. “Oh, besides the paralysis thingy,” you quickly added.
Miguel turned to fully face you. “I don’t even want to know where that came from.”
Deep down, you felt a pang of disappointment. It would be such an interesting finding.
“Ah, so it’s not true.”
“Probably not.”
That piqued your interest. “Probably? So there’s a chance? It’s just so fascinating, because you’re already so different from the rest of us,” you started rambling not able to hold back your enthusiasm. “Now this is just an added layer!”
You were a scientist at heart and Miguel was pretty much an outlier when it came to being a spider-man. For months you had been trying to let him agree to you running some tests, but to no avail.
In all honesty, Miguel knew his way around science and the inner workings of biology better than you could ever, so he had no reason to indulge your curiosity.
“How do you do it? Is it the same venom or a different one?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Science, remember?”
It was a half truth, though. Yes, this would be mind-blowing science-wise, but this was also about Miguel O’Hara. The very man who had been guiding you through spider society for months. The same men who whose genius and dedication had built the foundations of the spider society.
He now had both hands on his hips and you figured you were already pushing it too far, but enjoyed doing it too much to stop now.
“Can you just tell me how it works? Please?” You clasped your hands together into a beg, hoping it would be enough to bait him for information.
But Miguel remained unfazed.
“No.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” you offered expectantly.
He didn’t budge.
“Please, pretty please?” you tried once again.
Nothing.
“I’ll bring you empanadas every single day from now on,” you enthused. “On demand! Whenever you have those cravings. Two in the morning? Check! Canon event disrupted and universes imploding? Check!”
Miguel quirked an eyebrow. “Do you ever shut up?”
“Is that a yes?”
“No.”
“Just show me how it works,” you sounded desperate by now. Arguing with Miguel ranked high up with the likes of trying to move a boulder with a wooden fork. “How did you get it to work?”
His eyes to widened slightly. “Show you?” he started out. “Are you asking me to pleasure you?”
Now that was probably on your top three of ‘Things you never expect Miguel O’Hara to say’.
“Oh — I mean… well… what?” you stammered, caught by surprise. “I didn’t — you know… huh…”
He only glared at your babbling self.
“Are you… offering?”
Miguel extended his arm to you. “Give me your hand.”
You panicked. “What? Now?”
“For science, right?”
Point taken.
You hesitated momentarily. “You’re not going to paralyse me, right?”
“Do you want me to?”
You offered your hand for him to grip, flipping it palm up. “No.”
“Then I won’t.”
Miguel’s voice was so flat he could just be reading items off a grocery list.
His gloved fingers traced the heel of your palm and his eyes darted down. You held your breath at the sight of him lowering his head. “This might sting.”
And just like that, you watched in complete awe as Miguel O’hara bared his fangs, slowly raking them across your skin before digging into the flesh.
“Ouch!”
Your stomach turned and your heart fluttered as his warm lips grazed the spot he had just bitten. Two circular and symmetrical openings pooled with a tiny amount if blood.
“So? Do you feel a wave of intense carnal bliss?” Miguel asked, straightening up and brushing the droplets away with his thumb.
You merely stood there, waiting for something — anything — to kick in. But as tense seconds ticked by, it was evident nothing was happening.
“No…”
He shrugged, letting go of your hand to tap his watch. “Ah, well. My pleasuring abilities must be below par this morning.”
You scowled at him and considered smashing his arm with a fist. “You could have just said it was all a lie!” you grunted in sheer annoyance, feeling like an idiot. “Now I’m bleeding to death.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“You’re annoying,” you huffed as you checked the bite marks.
“It’s not a lie. I can indeed inject an innocuous version of my venom that can be quite pleasurable,” he said.
“Then do it!” you said, your temper flaring.
Miguel wasn’t one to take orders. He was much more into being the one to call the shots, but your curiosity was eating you alive now that he had revealed that this rumour had some truth to it.
He was now looming over you, his impressive height adding to the tension. “It depends on where I inject the venom. Certain places are more effective,” his voice was uncharacteristicly low as his eyes landed on your neck. “This is just scientific curiosity, right?”
Your mouth had gone too dry to reply, so you just shrugged. Miguel had you taking a few steps back until your lower back hit the railing that lined the platform, causing your hands to clasp around it reflexively.
“Tilt your head.”
You did as you were told and felt his fingers tracing along your jaw, angling you just the way he wanted.
“Hold on tight,” he said, breath now fanning the prickling skin of your neck. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
Feeling your face heat up from the sudden close proximity, you closed your eyes as if embracing for impact. He pressed his lips to your pulse point before digging his fangs slowly into you.
Your mouth dropped open, aghast, and you finally felt it. His venom poured from the fangs and into your bloodstream, spreading through your veins like wildfire. At first, it was just merely a pleasant sensation, like the one you’d get as you finally drank water after a hot day in the sun.
But it soon turned into something else, and unlike water, the new overwhelming feeling was leaving you thirstier with each thump of your racing heart.
Miguel had his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. He moaned first — no, he grunted —, and you felt a jolt of almost painful pleasure shot down your spine and spread between your thighs.
Your grip on the metal surface wavered momentarily and you feared you might fall, but were firmly grounded by his other hand on your waist. It didn’t take long until your clit started throbbing in unison with your heartbeat.
“Miguel… this… this…”
Suddenly, your suit felt too tight and in the way, especially once he pressed lightly into you.
The venom was no longer being injected, but the remnants of it were enough to wreak havoc throughout your body.
“It’s just for science…” he growled, pulling his fangs away from you. “Does it feel good?”
You didn’t dare open your eyes and could only gasp when you felt him push his erection into you.
“Yeah… science… or whatever…” you gasped, feeling yourself being pushed over the edge with each second that passed.
Just when you thought your orgasm would hit you slowly, Miguel tilted your head to the side, exposing the intact skin.
You gripped his wrist as if holding on for dear life, fearing you’d explode. “Again?”
“Your body is neutralising my venom too fast,” he rumbled, lips hovering a sensitive spot. “I need to inject more.”
“Miguel…” you nearly cried out at the thought of your heart no being able to handle the intense pleasure.
“Look at me.”
Your breathing evened briefly as you did as commanded, his red eyes fixed on yours, pupils fully blown.
“Think you can do this?”
You blinked.
“I know you can take more.”
Your clit was now throbbing at an alarming rate at the promise of more of him.
Miguel flashed you his blood-tipped fangs before sinking them into you once again.
The liquid traveled through your body so fast, you felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs. You vaguely wondered if you would die from this, and concluded that there were worse ways to go.
Being on the receiving end of Miguel’ dry humps would be enough to make anyone tip over the edge, let alone with the added layer of venom engulfing you into an explosive orgasm.
Your vision blurred in an instant as spams and contractions swept through your body. The friction of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit had you arch your back into him, feeling the bittersweet realisation that you were clamping around nothing. You weren’t sure if this was his venom’s doing, but you felt an overwhelming part of you wishing he had been inside you.
It hurt.
It hurt so good and lasted for so long, you like crying from the overwhelming tide of pleasure.
Miguel gave you time to ride out your orgasm, pressing a bloodied kiss to your lips, swallowing your cries.
Metallic taste filled your mouth and you broke away from him, gasping for air.
Your eyes landed on his crotch.
He was hard. Painfully hard. A faint stain of precum seeping through the material of his suit.
“You okay?”
You bent over, hands on your knees and laboured breaths.
“Are you?” you managed in between gasps.
Miguel crouched to eye-level with you. “I think you owe me one.”
“Yeah…” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks for the… scientific… huh… demonstration.”
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ellecdc · 2 months
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Darling, the possessive!Remus fic was sooo good!! 🩵😫
Could i request another part please?? Hwere reader is hiding something, maybe an injury or illness or scent or something stupid she did with James... idk what but something. Anyway, reader sees Siri and Rem, stops, makes eye contact, then bolts in the opposite direction 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
I feel like both (especially Rem) would instinvtively chase, maybe they find her begging Jamie to hide her 😭
Love you lots!! And remember to get enough rest 🩵
Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and saviour Jesus Christ? Sir? Don't run from the lord!!!! No, you're so right babes.
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader
CW: slight injury, nothing major, fluff
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“Okay, well the wound is closed but there’s not much I can do about the bruising or the blood on your shirt.” James said as he gently pulled your uniform shirt back down from where he’d been inspecting your ribs.
“That’s fine – I’ll ice it later; I’ve gotta meet the girls like five minutes ago.” You said as you pulled a jumper over yourself to hide the blood staining your shirt. 
“Are you sure you shouldn’t go to Madame Pomfrey?” James asked with a grimace.
You rolled your eyes. “If it hurts terribly, I’ll go later.”
“And you think you’ll be able to avoid Remus and Sirius until then?” James asked somewhat doubtfully. You grimaced in response. “This close to the moon, Remus will be able to smell that blood on you from across the castle.”
“I can’t worry about that right now; I need to go.” You said simply as the two of you rounded the corner. 
You halted suddenly as you spotted Remus and Sirius down the hall – they quickly noticed your tense demeanor which caused them to slowly cease their movements too, mirroring you as you stared them down and they you from across the corridor.
“James.” You murmured without moving a muscle. 
“Yeah?”
“Do you see them too?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you hide me?”
James groaned. “Y/N…”
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me to the wolves.” 
“I love you, you’re the sister I never had...but I’ve got a Regulus to think about, you know?”
“It’s been an honour knowing you.” You responded solemnly, nodding in understanding.
“God speed.” He whispered back before you took off in a sprint. 
You could hear a shout and heavy footfalls behind you alerting you to the fact that you were indeed being followed.
You rounded corners and climbed flights of stairs, lungs and legs burning from the effort as you very much regretted your choice to bolt. Maybe you could have talked about it? Maybe you could have convinced Remus you were fine and did not need medical attention? Maybe Sirius would have sided with you?
But no, you chose to run when Remus was at his most possessive, territorial, and protective, and he was with accompanied by Sirius who rivaled Remus’ full moon possessiveness all month round. And also, why the hell does this school have so many stairs!?
Suddenly, refuge came in the form of the third-floor girls’ lavatory. You barrelled your way through the door, clamoring into a stall and locking the door behind you. You sat on the toilet seat and pulled your knees to your chest, though it was all for naught, because even if no one could see your feet, they’d surely hear your laboured breathing. 
You heard the door open again and the scuffling of feet followed by deep sighs. You pointed your face to the ceiling as you listened to the footsteps growing closer and closer before Sirius’ head and arms flung over the top of the stall beside you where he beamed goofily at you. 
“Hey gorgeous! What’re you doing?” He sung casually.
“What are you doing in here? This is the girl’s room.” You hissed at him as your face heated in embarrassment – both from being caught hiding from your boyfriends and of your boyfriend for following you to the loo.
“Where you go, I go.” He said simply with a shrug as if talking to his girlfriend over a bathroom stall was common practice. 
“Do you really think there’s anywhere in this castle that you can hide that I won’t find you?” Remus deadpanned from your opposite side, and you spooked (nearly slipping into the damned toilet) as you noticed he too was standing on the toilet of the stall beside you in order to look down on you.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” You muttered as you stood from your toilet hideout and exited the stall.
“Not that I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life chasing you, darling but-” Sirius started teasingly before he was cut off by Remus.
“What happened!?” He rasped as he reached for you gently.
“I’m fine, Rem.” You tried, but he swatted your hands away.
Slowly, so slowly – as if he was afraid the fabric of your clothes would somehow bruise your skin – lifted your jumper to expose the bloody button up below it.
“Baby!” Sirius cooed in sympathy.
“I’m fine.” You reiterated.
Remus shot you an unimpressed look. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Can you take this off, please?” He said as he gently lifted you to sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, motioning to the jumper currently shielding his view. 
You acquiesced and also began lifting the side of your blouse up unprompted. Both boys hissed as they saw the bruising on your ribs.
“What happened?” Remus asked again, gently prodding the area.
“Some first years got a little too rowdy in the hallway – running around and not watching where they were going. I bumped into a suit of armour, but James healed it up.” Remus’ head snapped up to yours as Sirius’ gaze darkened. 
“Prongs healed you? On your side? With your shirt up?” Sirius asked expressionlessly. 
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, for goodness – yes! What’s the big deal?”
He continued his interrogation as if you hadn't said anything at all. “He saw your shirt pulled up like this? He touched you here?”
You sputtered, turning your attention to Remus. “He heals you every month!” 
He grimaced in sympathy but clearly agreed with Sirius. “I guess...just seems a little...intimate.” He conceded.
“Well, do I have to get all worried about you guys on the full moons? Or that he gets to share a dorm room with you?” You asked sarcastically. Sirius smirked at you.
“Awe babes, you don’t have to be jealous – we’re all yours!” He said in a sultry tone as he moved to stand between your legs.
“You’re not funny.” You deadpanned. 
“You should go to Madame Pomfrey, love.” Remus stated after completing whatever diagnostic inspection he was doing on your side.
“Wha- no! Rem, I’m fine. Nothing is broken, it’s not bleeding. I’ll ice it when I get back to my dorm tonight, but I’m supposed to meet the girls. Please don’t make a big deal of this.” You were embarrassed that you’d been reduced to begging, but you could not bail on Lily and Marlene again.
Remus grimaced. “Love, I’d feel better if you had it looked at...”
But Sirius Black – equally as likely to be your saviour and your damnation – opted to take pity on you. “Oh, come on Moons. We can fuss over her all night; let her spend time with the girls.”
Remus groaned and looked between the two of you before rolling his eyes in surrender. “Fine. But I will fuss over you tonight, got it?” He muttered sternly, but the love and affection that pooled in his eyes as he said it diminished his chiding greatly.
“Of course. I’d not have it any other way.” You sang back to him as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips.
“Okay. Let’s get out of the girl’s loo.” Sirius said as he turned and bent down in front of you, still seated on the bathroom counter.
“What are you doing?” You asked incredulously. Sirius scoffed as if you were being intentionally difficult.
“Giving you a ride, obviously. Can’t let our poor injured dolly walk these corridors on her own.” He backed up further into you and tapped your thighs with his hands impatiently.
“I very well can, thank you very much. I’ll have you know that your poor injured dolly just outran her two boyfriends.” You scoffed indignantly. 
“You know Moons, perhaps she should go to Madame Pomfrey after all.”
“Okay, okay!” You shrilled as you clamored up onto Sirius’ back.
Remus chuckled and pecked a sweet kiss to your temple – now almost at eye level with him as he placed a gentle hand on your back, protectively close to your sore ribs. 
“Thank you for appeasing us, sweetheart.” He murmured into your hairline.
You feigned annoyance, but you’d do so happily for as long as these two men would let you. 
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ceruleancattail · 4 months
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CERU!! HI HI :D
i have this one silly idea i think you might like!
so so, imagine you share classes with cater/jade/floyd (sitting next to them, if you will), and when they glance at your notebook, it's filled with tiny doodles, specifically them
or!! you saw their notebooks littered with doodles of you instead!
this one was when my friend found my philosophy notebook with a smol lilia in a gamer box corner lmao
take all the time you need if you decided to do this one! :D
Doodling
Cater x reader, Jade x reader, Floyd x reader
Cater
Cater finds his attention waning, occasionally. Twisting his pen around, he does his best to fight the urge to check his phone. He’s already done it five times this hour. Horrible habits die the hardest.
As sneakily as he can, Cater leans into your side, head leaning into the curve of your shoulder. His emerald eyes straying over the pages of your notebook, trying to find something to amuse himself with.
The moment you felt his gaze on you, you froze up. Hands hastily fumbling across the table, shielding the contents of your notebook from view. As quickly as you managed to react, Cater still managed to catch a tiny little glimpse of what you’ve scribbled onto those lined pages.
Little doodles of… him? Cute tiny drawings doodled onto the very edges of your notes, surrounded with miniature diamonds and quite a number of rosy red hearts.
Immediately, Cater turned away. Covering the lower half of his face with his palm, in an attempt to hold back his squeals of excitement. That’s just so cute of you!
Do you have any more? He’ll love to see them! Cater’s immediately wiggling a little closer to your side, poking at your notebook until you let him flip through the pages.
Aw, why are you embarrassed? You make him look totally adorable in those doodles!
Cater tries to draw a little sketch of his own right next to one of yours. A little doodle of you, standing right next to him. If you ask him why, he’s just going to chuckle and shoot you a playful grin. Avoiding the question the best way he knows how.
The truth is?
He just doesn’t feel right if you’re not next to him, so just indulge him this time, ok?
Jade
Jade is quiet. Almost silent, even. With his slender frame, he cuts through water with all the elegance of a finely honed blade. Silent, deadly. Even on land, his footfalls are as soft as freshly fallen snow. You’ll never hear him coming.
Which unfortunately works against you most of the time. He seems to relish the feeling of shocking you back to the present, whenever your attention starts to wander. Normally, you’ll hear him snigger, or if he’s feeling a little more teasing that day, the sensation of his ice cold fingers, tracing down the nape of your neck.
Today, it was the latter. As you yelp, reaching for the back of your neck, Jade is silent. His attention currently fixed onto the open notebook on your table, pages fluttering, beckoning him closer.
Gingerly, his fingers reach for the pages. Tracing every stroke on the paper, especially that particularly long stroke of hair framing the subject’s face.
It’s him. In every page.
Little doodles of Jade in the corners, peeking out from every margin. Drawings of him, in the midst of doing various tasks around the Mostro Lounge, along with some particular goofy ones accompanied by giant mushrooms… and hearts. Quite a number of them, actually.
The latest drawing is of him facing forward in class. Eyes narrowed in concentration, chin on his palm. How utterly adorable of you, to capture every single detail of his appearance within a few strokes. You must observe him very dearly.
Jade turns his full attention to you, leaning so much more closer to you than before. His lips curl up into a sly little smile, beaming at you. Now, you don’t have to be so secretive about it, you little artist.
You know he’s always more then willing to pose for drawings.
Well, only if you’re the only asking.
Floyd
Floyd shifts around quite a bit, during class. Normally, you’re pretty eager to chat away with him. Unfortunately, today you seemed a little more preoccupied listening to the lesson instead of Floyd.
Now, what fun is that? He’s so bored just sitting around. Well, you being next to him helps, but come on! You’re not even paying him one bit of attention. Instead you were hunched over the table, pen scribbling away furiously.
Floyd stares at your hand as it moves around, his own hand absentmindedly following suit. While his dance danced in circles in the air, Floyd muses silently. It’s hard to see how those sweeping wide strokes of yours could possibly form words.
Leaning towards you, Floyd dips his head onto your shoulder. Curling his lips into an “o”, before puffing a gust of wind onto the skin of your bare neck. Shuddering at the sudden chill, your pen clatters against the table.
Seizing his chance, Floyd’s hand darts over. Those slender fingers of his wrapping around the pages of your book, yanking it sharply to his side.
Leisurely, Floyd flips the book open. Ready to see what his lil’ shrimpy seemed ever so eager to hide.
Sketches of… him. Toothy grin as bright as the sun, beaming away. Y’know, most people find his smile scary. Not… as endearingly as you seem to see it, illustrating it as sweetly as you did.
You drew him zooming around the Night Raven College, leaping into antic after antic. Little hearts follow every doodle, trailing after tiny Floyd. Ain’t that cute?
Aw, shrimpy! You never told him you could draw. That isn’t too fair, yeah? Hogging all the fun to yourself, sketching him on the sly.
Floyd’s elbowing you playfully, stretching out an upturned palm towards you. Huh? What’s that look for?
Give him a pen, he wants to draw you too!
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poeticpascal · 9 months
Text
I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)
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Masterlist | Request here!
Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.
A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x
Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.
More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.
Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.
Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.
So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.
Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.
“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”
“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”
“It’s good music.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”
You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.
“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”
He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”
“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went. 
Typical.
So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.
You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him. 
Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x
You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.
The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.
You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”
“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -
Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).” 
Well, that was awkward.
You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.
──────
The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.
It’s never that easy though, is it?
Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.
No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.
The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.
“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”
You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”
You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down. 
“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”
His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.
You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”
“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.
“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”
A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him. 
“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”
The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.
“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”
He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.
People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.
He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.
Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,
Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.
The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky. 
In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.
Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.
Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.
──────
It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.
“Where the fuck is he?”
“Joel, I-”
“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”
His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”
He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.
“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”
It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.
It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”
“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”
Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”
“‘Course i did.” 
It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”
You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.
The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.
Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.
And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.
Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.
Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.
“What do you want to drink?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”
You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.
You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.
“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.
“Hm?” You look at him, confused.
“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.
“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.
“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”
“I know.”
He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”
“I know.”
He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones.  You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.
The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.
“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.
“I want to.”
He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.
“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.
You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again. 
“So make me forget.”
It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you. 
He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.
“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”
You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss. 
You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”
“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands. 
It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.
You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked. 
He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.
“Open up, babygirl.”
You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness. 
It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants. 
You love it.
“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.
Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet. 
You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”
He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.
“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap. 
His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips. 
It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.
He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh. 
“Tell me what you need, angel.”
“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance. 
“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-” 
He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it. 
He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars. 
His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl. 
“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.
The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear. 
His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.
Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.
“I- I’m gonna-” 
“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.
Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.
“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.
He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.
“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up. 
“Answer me, angel.”
“I’m good. Tired.”
Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.” 
You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”
“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.
“That little asshole. What’s his name?”
He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”
“But-“
You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”
“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”
It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”
He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” 
He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”
He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”
As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:
What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?
Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?
Just wondered.
You’re weird, man.
Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest. 
“JOEL!”
──────
Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!
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lovebugism · 4 months
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hi bug!! for blurbcember, how about ❝ don’t tell anyone, but, i spiked the eggnog. ❞ where shy!reader is by herself at a work holiday party, maybe she’s new or just really shy and doesn’t talk to many people, and steve/eddie goes up to her and jokes about spiking the eggnog to break the ice and flirt with her bc he has a crush on her and wants to make her laugh 🥹 totally not based on what i wish would happen to me at my work’s holiday party lmao
ah this is so cute! :D i decided to do this one for steve so i hope you like it!! — steve harrington spends the company holiday party flirting with shy!you (friends to lovers, shy!reader, fluff, 1.9k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
The quiet mouse and the personality hire walk into an office holiday party.
It’s like the start of a really bad joke.
You try to be as enthusiastic as you can about the whole thing, but spending the last half of your day socializing with coworkers who've never looked your way before now isn’t exactly thrill-inducing. Neither is having to hear “Oh, I didn’t know you actually spoke” a thousand times over.
You just don’t want the lecture about being a team player just because you have a harder time talking than most people do. Everyone knows you’d rather be at your desk, anyway. That’s what you do best — keep your head down and get your work done.
But Steve Harrington? He’s totally in his element.
He flits around the common area with a drink and a smile, making people laugh without even trying. It’s hardly fair.
You don’t know how he does it — or why he chooses to waste his charm on you. You’re hardly deserving of his dumb jokes or his pretty smile, but he’s stuck to you like glue, anyway.
He leaves your side only once. To get you another cup of eggnog because you were too scared to cut through the crowd for seconds. “Here you go,” the pretty boy croons as he hands you the plastic cup with a strong, golden hand.
You mutter a small “thanks” under your breath when you take it from him. At least, Steve thinks you do. You’re so quiet it’s hard to make the words out sometimes.
He pushes his sweater sleeves up to his elbows — a deep evergreen with a cream stripe around the chest, lined with several little Christmas trees — and leans against the wall beside you.
He towers over you in every way imaginable. It makes it hurt not to cower when he looks your way. Most of all, when he beams at you.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks suddenly, nose scrunched and honey eyes sparkling.
Your brows pinch momentarily in confusion before going lax again. “Sure?”
He leans closer to you, his warm scent engulfing you instantly — like morning coffee and woodsy cologne. It’s suffocating, in the nicest of ways, to be this close to him. 
“Don’t tell anyone, but I did actually spike the eggnog,” Steve whispers beneath the cheesy holiday music and distant chatter, quiet enough for only you to hear. 
You laugh before you mean to. 
He laughs because you are.
“I actually wouldn’t mind that,” you joke with a shy shrug.
“It’d make this whole thing a lot more tolerable, right?” he scoffs and brings his cup to his mouth. The heavy cream of the eggnog clings to his cupid’s bow before he licks it clean again.
You get quiet for a second, momentarily lost in how pretty he is. “Yeah. Definitely.”
“I think you’re the only person I know that’d rather be working than be here.”
“Well, I’m not really a—” Your mouth opens and closes like a fish until you find the words to say. That happens a lot. It’s why you find it easier not to speak sometimes. “—A social butterfly or whatever, you know?”
“I thought you were gonna say people-person.”
“That, too.”
Steve thinks for a moment, flits his eyes to the ceiling, and juts out his pretty pink lips. He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “Well, I don’t think that’s totally true.”
Your brows furrow. Maybe he doesn’t know you as well as you thought. “No?”
“No,” he says confidently and with a shake of his neatly styled hair. He swipes his fingers through the intentionally messy strands. Then he shrugs. “Well, I mean, maybe. But I would say you are a Steve-person, you know?”
Your face screws up. His attempts to flirt with you don’t land.
He quickly tries to explain himself. “I just mean that— you know— that you don’t let everyone know you the way you let me know you.”
He gets all shy about it, but you think he might be right. 
Steve Harrington is more than just magnetic. He’s the kind of person that draws you in and opens you like a flower. An ounce of his attention feels like being basked in sunlight. He’s as handsome as life, too. Something holy, maybe. 
It’s his divinity that draws something out of you, you think.
“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re different from everyone else,” you shrug instead of elaborating on the dramatic religious metaphor in your head. Your gaze falls to the untouched cup between your palms. It’s easier to look at but much less interesting than the melting honey in Steve’s eyes.
He grins all sweet even though you’re not looking at him to see it.
“You mean prettier?” he jokes.
“Yeah,” you scoff and smile before you realize it. “No one’s competing with those dimples, Harrington.”
He beams. It basks you in golden sunlight. 
Something about the way he looks at you is comforting. Nostalgic. It makes you feel safe. Makes you feel brave enough to raise a trembling hand to his scruffy jaw and poke gently at the dimple in his left cheek.
“You just make it easier to talk. I guess.”
“Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I love hearing you talk.”
You squint playfully up at him. “Is that because you’re usually the one talking all the time?”
He nods. “That’s exactly why.”
You laugh, and it sounds like stars falling over his skin. 
“It just feels easy to me, you know? Being around you and everything,” Steve shrugs to pretend like you don’t stir something sort of poetry in his chest. “I just think you’re cool. Exactly the way you are. And, you know, when you apologize for being too quiet or too complicated or whatever— it makes me wanna kick the world’s ass for making you feel that way. ‘Cause you’re, like, one of the best people I’ve ever met.”
For a second or more, you’re not totally sure what to say. And not in the way you usually are. This is different. This feels like there’s sunshine in your throat, and you can’t speak a word through it. This feels like being so choked up you could cry.
No one’s ever been this nice to you, you think. No one’s ever been so kind to you about the thing you hate most about yourself.
You swallow through the sun rays and muster a wavering smile.
“See what I mean?” You try to laugh, but the words get caught in your throat. You cough once to clear it. “I have to talk to you because no one else will say such nice things to me.”
“And that’s just a shame. ‘Cause saying nice things to you is basically my favorite hobby.”
You laugh again, even though he’s not really joking.
“Like, if I could get paid to do it, I’d be out of this shithole in a second.”
You smile up at him, so wide it makes your eyes squint and your nose scrunch. No one else could stir such a loud emotion from the quiet you are. No one else but Steve.
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leichor · 2 months
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cold, cold feet || xavier
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"you're already ready for bed? that was fast." xavier smiles as you beam at him, snuggled into his quilts for the night. he turns off the lights in the room besides a small glowing mushroom lamp you'd bought for him, and he opens the quilts to quickly dive in in a valiant attempt to protect you from the cold.
"you sure took your time changing from a hoodie into another hoodie," you tease as you cuddle up to him, exhaling as he wraps his arms around you. "whatever shall i say, hmm? perhaps my boyfriend decided to abandon me in favour of hunting wanderers in some far off zone again?" you laugh as xavier frowns like a kicked puppy, one of the most prominent expressions on his face.
"i would never," he insists as you turn away from him to laugh, burying your face in a pillow that smells too much like him, heavy and heady with his scent. "[name], listen to me. i would never. [name]. [name]." turning back after a good long chuckle, you see his lip jutting out ever so slightly, clearly affronted by your lack of attention and affection for him.
"you're like a needy puppy," you hum as you pull him into your chest, xavier humming as he snuggles closer, not even bothering to deny what you said. "needy puppy who mildly sucks at both cards and the claw machine."
"watch it, he grumbles half-heartedly, an arm extending towards your lower back to rub and pat it. "you're threatening my masculinity here." you laugh, attempting to slowly slide your feet over to xaviers as he frowns once again and pulls away. "no. i know what you're going to do, and i won't allow it."
"please? pretty please? you're my boyfriend, this is a boyfriend duty!"
"the last time i agreed to this, i was feeling ice stamps on my back for most of the night. no thank you." he retorts, kicking your feet away as the duvet rises, letting in a draft as the two of you huddle closer for warmth. "okay. maybe i understand your pain a little bit. but it is still a no," he adds quickly as you beam and then grimace.
"y'know, why do i even care," you mumble as you shove him off of you, turning him around and putting your feet on his calves. xavier flinches and kicks his legs, hopefully to throw you off, but you aren't the hunter's super rookie for no reason, and you stay exactly where you burrowed yourself, waiting for xavier to stop thrashing around like a piece of meat.
and when he eventually does, you kiss his shoulder as he mutters his own version of expletives at you, a silent apology for the pain he will be going through every other day now. "come spring," you murmur next to his now flushed ears, "i'll let you put your cold feet on mine, okay?"
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some of my headcanons for xavier, i hope y'all don't mind :3 i hc he gets cold in spring instead of winter (idk, it just suits the image i have of him). as of reposting this from my old account @.ameleii, i've finished book 8 (almost)!
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snghnlvr · 5 months
Text
𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞. / park sunghoon
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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫! (bff!jake makes an appearance!) • read part two !
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you just wish you have the guts to say what you want, what you feel to your crush, park sunghoon.
𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 : 1.3k words | one sided crush | fluff at first then boom angst :0 | kind of made me sad actually | yn and sunghoon are friends!! | but hoon is a bit mean :< | this drabble was inspired by the song by niki :p
likes, comments and reposts are very much appreciated! <3
[below the cut]
you stared at the tall, handsome boy across the room. the room was twinkling whenever his cheek dimple appears when laughing, classmates’ eyes diverted whenever his eyes turn into crescent room, and classmates become temporary silent to hear his laughs.
ever since he stepped foot into your classroom from two years ago when he became a transferee, he grabbed the attention of female students and even staff board members. boys would gaze upon him whenever they pass by sunghoon with jealously visible in their faces.
i mean, who wouldn’t ?
you can’t deny either, he’s the most attractive person ever. in the classroom. in the school. in the world wide world.
his eyes would sometimes glance upon yours. when you both make eye contact, it would not last for even two seconds as you immediately look away. blush would run across your cheeks just by thinking about his gorgeous eyes looking at yours. you would nibble your bottom lip out of nervousness and overthink about your physical appearance.
did i look like an idiot? why is my lips so chapped? was my mascara smeared?
you questioned yourself multiple times in your head after walking home from school, how is he sculpted like the gods? why is he so handsome? why is he that perfect?
argh, just by thinking about it, unconsciously made your lips curl and heart beating like a rollercoaster. you shake your head to remove your thoughts about him and go home.
even though you’ve classmates with him for two years, you wanted to be closer. but you didn’t have the guts to do something. talk to him? pass him the notes the next day after being absent to take his ice skating lessons? buy him something? start a conversation? it’s too confusing.
you sighed infront of a locker. staring at it as if it would reply to you. well, you needed a quick response from whatever what you were doing. a wake up call.
you mentally marked it in your head.
locker #143 letter #12
god what were you doing?
writing letters to someone who barely notices you? how pathetic. you don’t even know what he thinks about you. does he know your name?
you were turning your body, ready to take off and think about sunghoon for the rest of the night. but before you take a step forward, you hear a familiar shout.
“y/n!”
you turned around and you see two figures, you recognized that one of them is your best friend, jake.
“oh hey jake!” you beamed at jake’s big smile towards you as he jogs towards you. your eyes then moved towards the figure behind him and your mind immediately blacked out.
it was sunghoon following behind jake. he saw you and smiled before going towards you as well.
“we were gonna eat tteokbokki at the restaurant across the street but we saw you~ it’s sooo cold so we wanted to eat something warm!” you can hear jake’s excitement through his tone as you saw him bundled up with his jacket and gloves. you noticed sunghoon’s attire. it was a simple hoodie with his fluffy jacket but yet he looked so cozy.
“wanna come with us?” jake invited. he stared at you with expectation.
“oh..” you mumbled under your breath. the sudden invitation made you hesitant because sunghoon will be there and you didn’t know how to act around him.
currently your heartbeat is echoing in your ears and you suddenly got cold sweat on your back despite it being winter.
you glanced to sunghoon behind jake as his hands were inside. he gently smiled at you as if he knew that you were wondering whether or not you’ll be a bother with them. he gave you a reassuring nod, mouthing, “don’t mind it”.
you swore your heart with jumping jackets. you swore sunghoon’s cheek dimple appeared when he smiled at you. you swore that sunghoon wanted you to be there with him.
“sure.” you breathe out. the heavy feeling on your chest disappeared with that one look of sunghoon’s eyes that spoke comfort and gentleness.
“yes!” jake jumped in excitement in his place. “we’re gonna go after sunghoon gets his scarf from his locket.” jake’s eyes moved towards sunghoon’s locker which was literally right next to you.
once again, your mind immediately blacked out. you panicked internally. not only sunghoon but your best friend will see your letter. you were the only one that knows that you like sunghoon. and you were scared that it might be obvious with how you’re acting.
you eyes looked over sunghoon’s hand unlocking his locker. you wanted to run away. you wanted to hide. you wanted to take back off the letters that you wrote in the past about him and forget everything. you can imagine yourself slapping yourself with your pillow.
but at the same time you were curious. will this be an opportunity to know what sunghoon thinks of you? does he likes the letters? does he know that it’s yours?
sunghoon huffed loudly which cut out of your thoughts.
“another one?” laced with disappointment.
your heart dropped at his reaction. you looked at jake beside you, his lips pursed in awkwardness.
you saw sunghoon stretch out his hand to grab the brown envelope. “hey y/n..” sunghoon turned to you.
your eyes widened, in fear if he knows. you gulped before responding to him. but your heart thumped that he said your name for the first time. that was a first for you.
“do you know this person?” he asked emotionless. eyes hoping that you know. you stared at the mini orange you’ve drew in the corner of the letter because you know he likes them; the drawing is humiliating you.
“no….” you tried to play if off cool, acting like you were thinking. sunghoon nodded when you responded.
“alright.”
jake bumped his elbow onto your shoulder. “sunghoon has been receiving love letters from the same person for the past month.”
“and it’s annoying.” sunghoon examined the brown envelope as if it was a disease. you can see the scowl on his face.
your heart swelled up at the contrast of his voice from earlier and his expression. his twisted eyebrows and puckered lips showed his frustration while looking at his name in the center of the envelope.
“it’s annoying?” you suddenly spoke, genuinely wondering why he would think of that but sunghoon nodded once again.
“tired of the same nonsense anyways. i won’t like someone who acts like this. i read the letters and laugh to myself because, how can someone be this delusional?” he snickered to himself as jake nodded, agreeing with him.
tears swelled up to your eyes as sunghoon looked down at the envelope, playing with it like a toy.
“acting like this? it’s a burdensome.”
did sunghoon indirectly called you a burden?
“if i meet this person, i won’t ever like them because i hate people like this.”
ouch.
that really did it.
“hey!” you suddenly made your voice loud, startling both of the boys.
jake panicked upon looking at you, your cheeks are pink, eyes watering and your lips were quivering.
sunghoon was alarmed with you. he was confused yet worried upon seeing your teary eyes. he was questioning what happened. he was gonna ask but you beat him to it.
you chuckled. “i forgot i-i have to help my mom with something. you guys can go without me-“ you cursed at yourself for your stuttering. “i’ll go! uh bye!” you smiled specifically at sunghoon with your teary eyes before dashing off.
idiot.
idiot.
idiot.
what sunghoon doesn’t know is that you like him.
what you don’t know is that sunghoon likes you as well. he was the one that initiated eating tteokbokki with you.
(jake would leave midway as apart of sunghoon’s plan)
-
this is my first tumblr post! i have a lot of drabbles in my notes app but i decided to post this one first because it’s completely done. what did you guys think? do you think sunghoon will know yn’s likeness towards him? will yn stop with the letters? i don’t know if i have a part two in mind but please let me know if you want! 😼 thank you for reading <3
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avtrbee · 5 months
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the parent-teacher conference
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summary: there’s a new parent in town!
tw: implications of death ig?
Gojo Satoru is positively beaming. He has had a few unforgettable moments in his life; his first day in Jujutsu Tech, his awakening, the first time he got drunk, that one threesome with you and Ge- he’s getting distracted. Point is, this just might take the cake for the most unforgettable.
He had gotten a call from Nanami this morning asking him to meet up. It was already suspicious that he called him, but Satoru was feeling pretty generous. After all, it’s not always that Satoru could get to hear his kouhai ask for a favor.
Now, Satoru is sitting on a chair in a McDonalds beside you, and sitting on the chair in-front of the both of you is a very, very ashamed and embarrassed Nanami Kento. Fuck, Satoru’s smug. His cheeks have hurt from smiling so widely in the past hour and he’s fairly sure that you’re struggling to hide that smirk away from your face.
Amidst the noise of chattering people, a voice stood out from the rest. A small boy with pink hair and chubby cheeks came running towards your table. His yellow sweater and jean shorts were bright and clean, obviously brand new but hastily bought. “Nanamin-!” he cried as he reaches your table. He looks at Nanami with wide eyes. “Aaah.” He opens his mouth expectantly.
Without missing a beat, Satoru’s kouhai immediately scoops up a small serving of his Oreo McFlurry and feeds the boy who smiles in thanks after chewing the ice cream. He does not hesitate to turn and run back to the play place.
Satoru couldn’t help but sigh in defeat. “Oi, Megumi,” he calls to the child who was also at the play place with his sister. “Why couldn’t you be cute like him?” He whines. He doesn’t need to turn his head to know that Megumi heard him, and how he’s glaring at him right now. Call it a father’s instinct. But, speaking of fathers-
You see, Nanami has been in this exact same position three years prior except he was on the other side of the table. When Satoru confessed that he had not-so-accidentally acquired two children with enough emotional baggage for four adult sorcerers, Nanami went berserk. Satoru remembers that scolding, how Nanami called him irresponsible, how you and Satoru weren’t ready for them, how he was in no position to adopt two children despite him having more than enough resources to sustain Megumi and Tsumiki- only to find out Nanami is good little junior who followed his exact footsteps and basically adopted the first orphan he saw. Satoru wonders how many hours it spent before Nanami threw away his pride and asked him for parenting advice. Karma is real!
“So. Itadori Yuuji, huh,” he starts, unable to keep the glee out of his voice. Satoru watches as Nanami hunches his shoulders just a tiny bit in shame, but glares back at him. Nanami opens his mouth to retort, but before his voice came out little Yuuji came running back with his mouth open for another bite of Oreo McFlurry. Nanami delivers his request and Yuuji goes back to his own business.
“He’s clingy,” you observed. That was the fifth time in ten minutes did the pink haired child go back for ice cream. You suspect its not the ice cream itself, but Nanami’s presence. “He must be anxious if he doesn’t see you for too long.”
And who could blame him? Yuuji’s sole caretaker before Nanami was his grandfather, but after he was eaten up by a curse…
“I’m worried about that,” Nanami admits. “He gets upset when I have to leave work. He has to stay home alone and I get off work late…sometimes not at all.”
“Eh,” Satoru waves off his worries with a hand. “It’ll be like that from the start. You just have to assure them that you won’t leave.”
Satoru remembers this. How Tsumiki tries her best to hide her anxiety when he leaves for a work trip and how Megumi lets Satoru hug him briefly when he comes home. Sometimes both children are surprised he comes back at all despite his constant reassurance.
He quickly learns that these children do not trust the words of adults. Words are easily said, promises easily broken.
“Mhmm.” You nod. “We try to always have one of us be present at night. No simultaneous missions for both of us unless necessary.”
Yeesh, Satoru remembers the circumstances that led to that decision. When the both of you were finally able to come home after separate missions on both ends of Japan, Megumi and Tsumiki had thought you had left them.
“Maybe Yuuji can stay with us just until you get back,” you suggest. “If all three of us are gone, I know I can at least trust Tsumiki with him.”
Nanami nods appreciatively. “Thank you, Y/N-san. I know this must be a bother…”
Satoru shakes his head. “Nah. Besides Megumi needs friends his own age.”
He is worried about his little boy. Megumi isn’t exactly the social butterfly like Tsumiki is. Satoru knows that Tsumiki can create an underground cult and rule the school if she really wanted to, but Megumi would rather die than to talk to someone he deems undeserving.
The boy doesn’t even eat with anyone during lunch, or play with anyone during their free time. Megumi would just summon his dogs and let them roam around the school field, and it’s not like anyone would see.
After Megumi explained this to Satoru, he finally understood the multiple concerning calls he got from Megumi’s teachers. They report him petting the air mindlessly like there were invisible dogs, which…there were.
“But what about school?” You ask, prodding the man a bit. He has hardly shared any of his plans.
“There’s a school nearby my apartment. I’ve already enrolled Yuuji there for the next school year.”
Ah, Nanami, Satoru coos in his mind. So meticulous and well-planned!
“He’s ten by now,” you muse, swirling your straw in coke. “Curses and techniques manifest by four. Do you think he sees-?”
“No,” came Nanami’s harsh reply. He says it with such conviction, like he was willing it to be true. It’s the loudest he had been since he asked both of you to meet him at a McDonalds and begged for parenting advice. “He will never be part of that life.”
To others, Nanami must’ve sounded angry. But to you and Satoru, he just sounded protective. Satoru understands. He would give anything to take Megumi out of the sorcery world.
“I’m jealous,” you admit in a whisper. “I’m scared for Megumi and Tsumiki sometimes.”
“Tsumiki is a non sorcerer,” Nanami points out. “She is innocent.”
You sigh. “I gave her some glasses with my cursed energy to see them just in case.”
Satoru remembers this. You both had found Tsumiki beating herself up about how she’s always left behind. She was the only one who couldn't see Megumi’s dogs. The only one who doesn’t understand why you or Satoru would sometimes flick your hand at a random tree. The only one couldn’t see. You relented quickly, giving her twin glasses that match Satoru’s- Like the ones Maki-chan has!- only to be used inside the house.
Using the glasses outside the house is a strict no-no. Satoru didn’t want her seeing the ugly curses that lurk around the streets. Not that she would see them anyway, considering he had exorcised every curse found within a 300 meter radius around the house and their school. But, still, you never know.
Your words bring a deep frown on Nanami’s face, immediately indicating that he did not agree with your actions. You could feel the disappointment radiating off of the man that Satoru wonders if he regrets asking you for advice.
“I still don’t want her to see curses, but I don’t want her to feel left out.” you reason. “That’s just children, Nanami-kun. They make you bend your morals if it's for the sake of them.”
“Mm,” Nanami hums, leaning back on his chair. His gaze turns to the play place and Satoru follows. The children were building towers out of wooden blocks. They had established an effective system; Yuuji hands Megumi the blocks, Tsumiki directs Megumi where to put it, and Megumi obeys.
They look so peaceful. They look like children.
Nanami stares at Yuuji, who immediately notices his gaze. The child perks up as he catches him, before standing up and breaking into a sprint with his arms open.
Nanami catches the child no problem, but the chair squeaks in protest. Satoru watches as Yuuji hugs him the best he could, with Nanami’s huge palm over the back of Yuuji’s head.
“Ah,” the blonde says, his eyes soft and drunk with love. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this one.”
Satoru gazes back to his own children, finishing the tower of blocks everyone has started. Satoru breaks into a genuine smile. Welcome to parenthood, Nanami.
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palajae · 6 months
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it’s just…
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PAIRING... skater!niki x skater!reader | GENRE... figure skating! au, romance, angst, fluff, unconditional love? | WC... 0.6k | “it’s just what?”
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“congratulations on another wonderful performance and win! you guys have been dominating the couples skate for years now even though you’re still so young, how do you feel?” 
your partner’s arm around you tightens a bit as he stares into the camera, leaning into the mic. the sweat fresh from coming off the ice gleams on his forehead and you stare at his side profile, resisting the urge to wipe a drop running down the side of his cheek. 
still breathing heavily, he manages to sport a bright grin. 
“yeah, well, i think the fans will be happy. we worked really hard, and i hope the performance shows that.” he glances down at you as you smile back up at him. 
“i think we’re both satisfied. i’m proud of y/n too, as always.” 
your smile grows a bit at that.
you and niki had been partners for over six years now, having essentially grown up together. you think you’ve spent more time with niki on the ice than you have at home with your family. 
but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. 
you respected him immensely, trusted him entirely, and you knew he felt the same. the fans could see it too. 
it showed in every interaction, every performance. you two were naturally close and friendly, so the shipping that came along with it was expected. no one could deny your chemistry. 
after the interview finishes, you and niki finish up with pictures of you with your medals. he even picks you up and spins you around as you laugh, beaming at your expression. 
when you finally get a moment to rest, he ruffles your hair. “good job today. i’m proud of you.” 
you shove his hand away playfully, “you worked hard too. did you want to grab some food before we get back to the hotel? i’m kinda hungry and you know-“
you glance at niki to see him typing away on his phone. you poke his cheek. 
“hm? yeah?” 
you cross your arms and huff as he sheepishly squeezes your side as an apology. 
“i said, did you want to get some food? coach said we don’t have any more schedules, so we should be free…”
niki bites his lip. “sorry, i already have some plans. but i’ll meet you back at the hotel?” 
you frown. since when did he ever not want to spend time with you? 
“alright, see you later.” 
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you end up passing out back at the hotel and don’t see niki until the next day for practice. it goes smoothly as usual, but he seems a little off. 
it’s not until your coach calls break when you nudge him, skating in circles around him like an animal surrounding their prey. 
“what’s up with you?”
“what do you mean?
you raise an eyebrow, taking his hands and pulling him along. “you know what i mean, so spill.”
he sighs heavily, “i wanted to wait until we got home, but…”
“but?” 
“I think i’m gonna go out with haerin.” 
you stop. and slowly let go of his hands. 
“oh.”
“it’s nothing serious for now,” he adds hastily, “we’re just getting to know each other.” 
“no, no, of course,” you mumble while collecting your thoughts. 
“it’s just-“
“its just what?” niki perks up almost immediately like he was anticipating your response with a glint in his eyes. 
“nothing.” you smile flatly. “i was just surprised.” 
it certainly seemed out of the blue. it wasn’t that you minded—niki could date whoever he liked. you guys were just professional partners and always had been. 
but why does something feel so wrong? 
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a/n ▸ happy happy halloween (if you celebrate it)👻 ☺️to be continued…. hehe the rest are already planned so keep a look out ;)
part 1/4 | next.
MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @flwrshee @who-tf-soddhi
@kflixnet
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hisui-dreamer · 1 year
Text
cook your way to your man's heart!
Characters: Deuce, Ruggie, Jade, Malleus
Synopsis: In which you decide to cook your guy's favourite food to condition them into liking you. Don't underestimate a person in love!
Tags: fluff, crack, reader is good at cooking, food is used as bribery, bot proofread
Word count: 766
Notes: inspired by this post
Disclaimer: this post is entirely light-hearted and as a PSA, please do not manipulate people.
Masterlist
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this man adores you to bits
house-spouse material!!
every time he's so curious to see what you made for him
is it an egg sandwich? a quiche? an omelette? egg rolls?
he'll happily eat all of it, he loves your food!
refuses to share with anyone else unless it’s you
he finds you so endearing and he really appreciates the gesture
he would offer to cook with you or help you wash the dishes
before he knows it, he wants to always be close to you
walks you to school every morning, saves you a seat at lunch, etc.
when you tell him you made him food bc you liked him, he’ll be ecstatic
you put in all that effort for him?? that’s so sweet of you!
he wants to introduce you to his mom and see you two working in the kitchen together, his two most favourite people in the world
"Prefect, thank you so much for making me food!" Deuce says heartily. "Everything tastes amazing, you're so talented! I'm so happy to eat your cooking!"
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oh he falls for it so bad
house-spouse material no.2!!
while he's careful with trusting people, he can't deny seeing you makes him so happy and he just can't resist the food
every time he sees you his tail is shaking in excitement
he has half a mind to wonder where you're getting the expenses from to keep making food for him
but hey how could he ever resist donuts?
he's so flattered and wants to repay you somehow
finds more opportunities to spend time with you in his busy schedule
works extra hard to earn thaumarks and get you some gifts
also he's always there for you if you need help
by the time he realises, he's head over heels in love with you
he can't say he minds, you're such a lovely person and you come with great food!
"Wow Prefect, are you trying to bribe me with donuts? I'm not that easy, ya know. Shishishi!" Ruggie laughs, his lips coated in chocolate. "But I gotta say, these donuts are awesome. You really know how to make a guy feel special. Thanks a ton, you're the best," he beams.
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he's cautious when you start giving him food withouta good reason
he knows what you're up to fast
what else would you expect from a master manipulator like himself?
he'll play along though, only to enjoy your cooking
he does appreciate the effort you're putting in to make him happy by preparing his favorite food
even though he knows, he still finds himself looking forward to seeing what new dish you might bring
would it be octopus carpaccio? a toasted mushroom and egg sandwich?
he loves everything you make for him
eventually he'll find himself in love with you, but only willfully
by that point he'll start teasing you and play around with your expectations to keep you on your toes
truly a match made in heaven, two scheming dorks in love
but hey, all's fair in the game of love
"Why thank you, Prefect. Your thoughtfulness is truly appreciated," Jade says as he savors another bite. "This octopus carpaccio is quite exquisite. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to impart some of your culinary secrets to me? I would love learning from such a skilled cook." He's smiling but there's a certain glint to his eyes.
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happy dragon noises
he's so in love with you omg
he was already interested to you when he met you in ramshackle
but one night you started offering him ice cream?
he's smitten
and you made it by yourself???
lilia's holding him back from marrying you instantly
he’ll find himself visiting you whenever he’s craving food or you
he's so fascinated by how ice cream is made and all the different flavours he can try
insert image of malleus furiously shaking a plastic bag with ice and cream in it
appreciates your determination and hard work in the kitchen so much
it makes him feel so valued and cared for
gives you all of his treasures to woo you and pays for all of the ingredients
and offers to help you in the kitchen, although you should keep a close eye on him if you don't want ramshackle burnt to the ground
Malleus smiles at you contently. "Might I express my sincerest gratitude, prefect? Your efforts to make my favorite food are not unnoticed, and I am deeply appreciative of your kindness," he says. "Your gifts are cherished, and I find myself drawn to your company more and more each day."
Masterlist
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if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!
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seungmoonandstars · 5 months
Text
𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒹 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒
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Kim Seungmin/Female Reader
wc: 8.5k
rating: mature/explicit ಇ
comments: part three was heavily edited from it's original version. There are most likely some grammatical errors that I've glossed over from staring at the screen for so long. Feel free to send a message and let me know if you see anything wildly wrong.
→ PART ONE
→ PART TWO
Part 3 of 4
“You can’t be nervous if I’m nervous.”
He’s right. You take a deep breath and turn to face him again. Kiss him on the lips. Your free hand snakes around his waist, finds the hem of his shirt, and tucks underneath to run over his skin.
His muscles tighten for a second, then slowly relax as your hand moves upward against his side and back across his shoulder blade. He sighs as you touch him.
You haven’t felt this much of his body until now.
-
Your plane lands four hours later than scheduled. You’re tired, hungry, and your back is killing you. Korea Air is fine, and it always has been, but 13 hours in coach is something you’ll never get used to.
There were no plans to travel home up until three days ago, and it’s a miracle you got the week off to deal with your family. As much as you hate doing it, you don’t mind a change of scenery and a break from your typical work days in Korea.
Honestly, this is the perfect solution to the loneliness and monotony. It was only three weeks ago that you finally got to see Seungmin again, but it’s been a long three weeks. And he has kept his promise of keeping in touch.
Every single day since date number two, he's sent at least one text. You try to send messages only when he does, but occasionally you can’t help yourself, and you send something in the middle of your work day, or right before you go to bed. You’re still a little worried about being a bother, and holding back your clingy-ness has been difficult, but he always sends something back. Not always right away, but he does answer. And he sends selfies often—those texts are your favorite.
You have failed to mention that you’ve been on your way to Chicago (he sent a text about two hours ago, letting you know the first two shows had gone well), and that you’d be arriving the day before he would also be in the same city. But you’ll let him know soon. You don’t have much hope for getting to see him while you’re both here; he’s busy, and the last thing you want to do is bother him during a tight schedule. But he's been the only thing on your mind for weeks.
You managed to get a ticket to the Chicago concert the night you realized you be in town for it, but it wasn’t cheap. Even if you don’t get to see him alone, seeing him on stage will be worth the price.
____
“Who are you talking to?”
There’s a giggle in his ear, and a sharp chin lands on his shoulder. “Why are you smiliiing?”
IN grabs Seungmin’s shoulders and takes a seat directly behind him, giving him a good view of the phone in his friends hands.
“Don’t be nosy.”
“Is it the girl you’ve been talking to?”
Seungmin half turns and stares at IN, then looks him up and down, “What are you talking about?”
IN stares back wordlessly, a grin plastered on his face. He’s squinting his eyes at him accusingly. “I’m talking about the girl you’re always texting.”
Seungmin picks up his iced coffee, takes a sip, then releases himself from IN’s stare.
IN follows him across the room.
“Send her a cute selfie.”
“I already did.”
“Oh, haha!” He beams with pride at thinking he got him to slip up. “Did she send one back? Can I see her?”
“No. And no.”
“I won’t tell anyone else, I promise.”
“How did you know if nobody else knows?”
IN stops and thinks for a moment, then he side-eyes the other two members that are currently in the same room. They’re too far away to hear the conversation, but Seungmin stands and heads over to them.
“Chan?”
Chan turns and looks at him with a smile. He doesn’t get a chance to speak before Seungmin does.
“Did you tell IN about her?”
It takes him a few seconds to process what he’s being asked. “No, no…I didn’t tell anyone.” his voice lowers as he realizes what they’re talking about.
“How does he know?”
Chan peaks around him at IN, who’s already staring wide eyed. He beckons him over with two fingers, and he runs over, unbothered.
“How do you know?” He asks softly, very curiously. “I didn’t tell you.”
“I just guessed.”
Seungmin and Chan stare, speechless.
“I always see him smiling and laughing while he’s texting, and then taking selfies. I didn’t know he was actually texting…” he looks around at the others that just walked into the room. “…texting someone.” He whispers the last part.
“The less people that know, the better…” Chan says, but casually, as if he knows he doesn’t really have to tell IN. “It’s nothing serious, right Seungmin?”
“Huh…” he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. “Oh um, no…it’s not.”
Chan stares a little longer, “is it?”
Seungmin feels like his mind is being read. “We just talk a lot.”
He nods and leaves it at that. IN smiles at Seungmin once more before walking off. Then he pulls his phone out to check his notification.
Sounds like you guys had a good time. I did catch some fan videos from last night!
He smiles at the text, and then wonders what you’re doing up at four in the morning.
____
You pull out your phone, hoping the buzz in your pocket is him.
What are you doing up so late? Are you okay?
Oh, you forgot about the time difference. Maybe it’s time to let him know you’re not in Korea.
“I’m okay. I just landed in Chicago. I had a family thing come up, and I had to come home. I promise I’m not following you.”
You see him typing a few seconds after your message is delivered.
oh, you’re from Chicago! That’s so exciting that you’re here. Are you coming to the concert tomorrow night? Please come!
Before you have time to reply, he’s typing again…
Maybe not if you have family to see
“No, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it”
let me know what seats you have…maybe I can get you closer
You’re trying to text him and stuff your bags into the trunk of you moms car at the same time.
“I don’t think they’re very close, but I’ll let you know as soon as I get home”
don’t worry, I’ll figure something out
“What are you so smiley about?” Your mom asks and slams the trunk shut.
“Just a text.”
____
“Sooo…”
“Soooo what?” Seungmin glances at IN. He has an inkling about what he’s getting at, and he’s trying not to indulge him too much. But Seungmin will admit that if any of them were going to find out prematurely, he's glad it was him.
“Can I see her?” He’s careful and quiet saying it. “Please?”
“Fine, give me a second.” He types a quick message and then pulls up the photos you’ve both shared. He finds one of the very few selfies you’ve sent him and shoves it a few inches from IN’s face.
He looks and his eyes widen, smirk grows. “Oh she’s not…” he stops himself and lowers his excited voice, “she’s not Korean? Oh she sent a text.” He giggled and tries to finish reading before Seungmin pulls the phone back.
“No, she’s not.”
“Where is she from?”
“Chicago. She’s here now, too.”
“Oh she’s gonna come see us tomorrow!”
Seungmin nods and types, “yeah, she is coming. I need to get her a better seat.”
“Sneak her into soundcheck.“
____
The next morning, you wake up to the buzzing of a text notification. A Seungmin message. You open it up and squint through sleepy, jet-lagged eyes. It’s barely 8 am. You slept an entire ten hours, at least.
Good morning 🤍 if you’re able to, come down to the venue at around 2!
A close-up selfie follows. You can only see his eye, a peace sign, and a little bit of hair.
And a heart emoji. That combination is a first.
You reply, set an alarm, and immediately fall back asleep.
And luckily, you don’t sleep through it. At eleven, you’re up, nervous, showered, more nervous, and then when it’s time to figure out your wardrobe, you feel like you’re going to puke. Knowing you’ll see Seungmin is keeping most of your nerves at bay, but the fact that it’ll be at an arena of this size, with this many people (you assume there will be a massive amount of fans already hanging around that early, because you know how concerts here are), and throw in the possibility of meeting his friends…you’re nervous.
____
It’s as busy near the venue as you expected. And you find yourself enjoying it, surprisingly. Seeing all of the fans gathered around and clearly having a good time, despite the heat, is nice.
You jump out of your Uber and send a text to Seungmin. You need a more accurate location to head to, but for now you don’t mind wandering around and people watching. Just a glance at someone seems to immediately give away their favorite member, and you make it a point to look for anyone who prefers your favorite.
A text message buzzes before you get too far.
there is a staff entrance at the box office, just walk in and pretend like you belong
That sounds like a terrible idea, but you trust him and head in that direction. It’s not very busy there, because the tickets have long since sold out, but there are staff members milling around. You don’t look like you belong, but you also know that attitude and demeanor can get you far, so…
____
Seungmin only mentioned his plan (IN’s, really) to Chan about ten minutes prior to his last message to you.
“I don’t know if that was the best idea,” he says. “Is she already here?”
“Yes, she’s somewhere outside. And I know.”
“Okay, I might have a solution. Wait here.”
Chan disappears for a few minutes, and in the meantime, Seungmin actually starts to feel a little nervous. His plan was simple: have you walk casually in through the staff entrance he’s already seen used many times that days, by many different people—some with and some without staff shirts or lanyards.
“Even if she gets in using your terrible plan,” Chan returns, and behind him is a man much larger and taller than either of them. “She can’t walk around alone or with you the entire time.”
“She gets her own bodyguard!”
“Chaperone. And she won’t look too out of place with him. “
“Thanks, Chan. Thank you, Jay.”
“No problem, buddy. Let’s go find her before she gets lost.” Jay pats Seungmin on the back and leads him down the hallway. “What does she look like?”
It’s a long walk toward the entrance, but both of them scan every person and group as they pass by. It gives the butterflies in his stomach more time to move up to his chest and throat.
“She’s right there!” Seungmin waves and gets your attention before approaching. He doesn’t want to make a scene, so he waits until none of the venue staff is around.
You have a hard time containing yourself when you finally catch sight of him. You don’t remember him ever smiling as wide as he is right now, and it makes your legs tremble a little.
You wave and wait for him to reach you.
“Hey…” Seungmin stands a few feet from you. He seems a little uneasy.
The man following behind him is obviously trying to keep some distance, but not too much distance. “I can turn away if it makes you both more comfortable.”
“No Jay, you’re fine,” Seungmin laughs but doesn’t look away from you.
“Is this your bodyguard?”
“He is, actually. But today he’s going to hang out with you so you don’t look out of place, and you have someone who knows what’s going on.”
“Oh, that's a relief.”
“But I’ll take you to our dressing room if you’d like…if you want to meet everyone."
"I'm...I do, but do you think it's too much? I mean, too much too soon?"
"Meeting them?" He thinks about it. His mouth is pushed to one side, puffing up his cheek. "I don't mind if you want to wait. We can always just go right out by the stage for soundcheck. You'll see them out there, they'll probably see you. You'll be a mystery."
"I like that idea. Maybe afterward I'll feel better about it."
He nods and waves Jay over. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off of you.
“You look nice.” He lowers his voice and and drops his gaze to the floor. But you can still see his smile.
____
You’re sitting a few rows back from the main stage. Your chaperone is a few yards away and much more relaxed out here. There are so many people working the sound check that your extra face is hardly out of place, so now you feel like you can relax and enjoy the view.
All eight of them are on stage, along with a few band members, and some techs. There’s a camera filming everything just off stage, and another directly on stage with them. You watch Seungmin as he interacts with it. He looks relaxed and happy. No more worry in his eyes.
You get out the earplugs he gave you, but for now you just enjoy listening to him speak into his mic and headset. He looks at you a few times, but subtly, trying not to direct too much attention.
One of the others keeps looking your way, you assume out of confusion or curiosity. Or both. It’s Lee Know. You watch as he walks along the edge of the stage closest to where you’re sitting. Another member joins him and looks out; this one is smiling, almost as wide as Seungmin smiled at you earlier. You know who everyone is thanks to the endless videos you've watched. It's IN.
You try not to make too much eye contact, but you don’t avoid them completely. They seem to know who you are.
Your chaperone appears next to again and takes a seat, “having a good time?”
“I am, thank you for dealing with me.”
“No problem, anything for these boys.”
“Do you know them well?”
“I’ve been working with them for a while now, so I’d say I do. How’d a girl like you meet Mr. Kim?”
The Mr. Kim is said with a bit of sarcasm, but a cute, playful sarcasm. And by a girl like you, you assume he means an American.
“I live in Korea, near where he grew up. We met through a friend. Do we seem like a weird match? I mean…we’re not a couple—"
“Are you sure about that? He’s looking at you right now with those big puppy dog eyes.”
Jay points up to Seungmin. When you look, he quickly smiles and waves before running back to the center of the stage.
____
Your adrenaline is off the charts at the end of the concert. You had an idea of what to expect from footage of other concerts, but being there in person, watching them…watching him, was obviously on another level. You feel like you’ve been introduced to a new little part of Seungmin’s personality. You feel closer to him.
Now you’re back outside in the fresh night air. You haven’t heard from him yet, but you’re not surprised. He’s probably exhausted. You stick around, though. He didn’t mention anything about seeing each other after the concert ended, so you don’t assume anything or get your hopes up (even though they are, by default, always up when it comes to him).
A small group of girls—you can’t really tell how old, maybe around your age—find a place to sit near you. They’re understandably excited and very loud, so you listen in as they talk about their favorite parts, favorite songs, and biases. The loudest of the group is a Felix fan. You sneak a glance at them and one of them notices you.
She waves, “are you here alone?”
You look around and then point to yourself, “Me? Oh, yeah I am.”
The rest of them wave you over with such enthusiasm that you can’t possibly deny them your presence.
“Was it your first concert? It was mine, but not theirs. We’re flying to California for the first two next week.” The girl who looks the youngest, and has a Han Quokka plush strapped to her gestures to the whole group. “Are you going to any more?”
“This is the only one I got a ticket for, so probably not.
“Who’s you bias?” The one who spoke to you first asks.
You hesitate for a moment. Who is your bias?
“It’s Seungmin.”
The girl continues talking, but you’re distracted by the buzzing of your phone. It’s him.
you are still around, yeah?
“Of course! I’m outside”
Now he’s calling. “Sorry, I gotta get this!” You excuse yourself from the group and answer.
“Hi, it’s a little loud out here.”
“Okay, I just figured calling would be easier. Come back in the way you did earlier, I’m already here.”
“Okay, I’m near there. Give me 10 seconds.”
He starts counting down…
“Okay…nine…”
You laugh and speed up a little—
“Eight…”
—but there are more people here and dodging them is not easy.
“Seven…six…five…”
“Count slower!”
“Fooooouur…three…”
You see the door and push through a couple much harder than you intend, but your hand is pushing the door open just as Seungmin says—
“Two! You did it!”
He’s a good distance away, but you can see his smile. He takes a few steps toward you, but lets you finish closing the gap. He holds out his arms and pulls you into a hug, which catches you off guard. You’re surprised oh makes him giggle. There’s nobody around except for Jay, but it still feels very bold.
“You were amazing.” You squeeze him a little tighter around the waist, and he reciprocates.
“Thank you…I hope you had a good time.”
“I did,” you slowly release him but keep a bit of his shirt clenched in your fist. “What’s your plan for tonight?”
“Hotel tonight…and I think we are leaving in the morning. Unless they change things last minute, which sometimes happens.”
“Well, at least you don’t have to leave right away. It’d be nice if you stayed in Chicago a little longer, though.”
“Yes, it would be nice.” You see him glance at Jay and lower his voice. “I can let you know which hotel, though. And I’ll text you my room number.“
“Oh?” You feel your face getting hot, and Seungmin’s cheeks have definitely turned a shade of pink.
“Unless I have to share the room.”
“Well, you just let know which hotel. And we’ll figure something out if we need to.”
He nods shyly and takes your face in his hands. He doesn’t pull you in for a kiss, though, just gently rubs his thumb over your cheek. And it’s somehow even better.
“I have to go, but I’ll text you.” He disappears with Jay around the corner.
And then you panic a little, because you weren’t ready for a hotel invitation. You’re having flashbacks of the last date, and how heavy things got for just a few minutes. And how Seungmin reacted, because he hasn’t gone that far with anyone yet.
Maybe that isn’t what he was getting at. You’ve spent plenty of time with him alone in your apartment, why would being alone in his hotel be any different?
It’s just a feeling. Just in the way he lowered his voice and blushed. Things will play out how they’re supposed to, though. No pressure. You’d never put him in an uncomfortable situation.
It might be a good idea to prepare anyway.
Going home seems pointless, because the hotel is most likely here in the city. You don’t want to waste time traveling home and then back. You’re already short on time as it is.
But when you find a convenience store to pop into, you get a look at yourself in the mirror. It could be worse, you suppose. It was a hot day, and the concert was no different. Besides, Seungmin has already seen you like this. It can’t be that bad.
But you do buy a water to chug, gum, and when you pass by the condoms, you stare at them for far too long. Buying them means you expect something to happen, and you feel weird about expecting it for some reason. Not buying them and being unprepared seems worse, though.
You grab a pack. You grab two, actually. You did get a quick feel of him before. And you remember it well. Now you just have to deal with the awkwardness of checking out with two different sizes of condoms.
You stuff your purchases between the mess of other things in your bag and walk aimlessly for a few blocks. It’s still crowded down here, even though it’s getting late, and you can’t help but start worrying when almost an hour passes with no text from a Seungmin.
Maybe you should have gone home and waited.
But just as the thought crosses your mind, you get a message.
“Here’s the address, and my room number is 1344.”
Your heart starts to race when you read it. He has his own room, so things will at least be easy. And the address is only another two blocks away.
____
You text him when you get to his room instead of knocking. You’re afraid to make any unnecessary noise. He's shuffling around in the room before the latch clicks and the doorknob turns.
Somehow every time you see him, he’s even better looking.
The door is closed and locked behind you before either of you speak.
“Hi…you got here fast!”
“I was close by. Was I too fast?” You look him up and down. He’s in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his hair is a little damp.
“No, definitely not. As long as I don’t look like a wet dog.”
“No, you look very handsome,” you grab a handful of his shirt and pull him toward you. “It’s a good look.”
He leans forward and kisses you on the forehead. Another romantic gesture. It gives you butterflies. You like it, but you can't help but be baffled by his very bold and distinct romantic gestures. Three weeks ago he had a hard time with your hypothetical dating question. But that was three weeks ago.
“Do you want something more comfortable to wear? I can give you one of my shirts.
Okay, so maybe he does want you to spend the night, “Yes, I'd like that.”
He grabs one from his bag and shakes it out. Then he brings it to his face to smell it, “this is clean.”
“Thanks,” you hold it up and look at it.
“It not very big on me, so it should fit okay.”
You head into the bathroom and look at yourself again, try to get the butterflies in your stomach to calm down. Big breath in, slow breath out. It doesn’t seem like he’s trying to drive you crazy, but he’s doing a very good job.
You start taking off your necklaces, your bracelets, and then peel off your shirt that’s long since dried from the sweating you did all day. You check yourself for any offending odors, and even though it’s not bad, you take the time clean up the best you can.
It’s been a while since you had to do a sink bath before a potential lay. And every single one before this wasn’t even worth it. Seungmin is different, though.
Now you wonder if this is the way you want things to go. In a hotel, very little preparation. But you may not see him again for a while after tonight. And if this feels good for him, it's good for you.
There is still the possibility that he won’t be ready.
You slip into his shirt, and it's still pretty big. The sleeves reach your elbows and the bottom hem just covers your shorts. You could walk out without them and he might not even realize it—you take them off and fold them up neatly with your shirt and jewelry, look at yourself one more time, and then head back out to him.
“Oh, that looks good on you,” he turns from his seat at the edge of the bed, then pats his hands on the spot next to him. “Come here.”
As you climb onto the bed and crawl toward him, he slowly lies down on his back. “Are you tired?”
“No, not tired,” he props himself up on his elbow to get a better look at you. “Not yet...it takes a while to relax after a concert." He pulls at the hem of your shirt and his fingers slide across your thigh. He takes his hand away, so you grab it and put it back. Seungmin takes the hint and slides his palm to the side and gently squeezes.
When he looks up at you, you grin, but he just lets himself fall forward so he can hide his face in the blanket. You hear a big sigh, and maybe a soft laugh.
“What’s the matter?” You lie down next to him and wait until he turns his face to yours. “Minnie?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Do you want to get cozy and watch something?”
“Yes, that sounds nice.”
You pull the blankets down and fluff the pillows while he gathers himself again. “Which side do you prefer?”
“I’m not sure, I don’t usually have to choose.”
“Okay, I’ll take the left side.” You cover yourself up and relax against the pillows.
Seungmin follows, but he stays on top of the blankets for a moment and stares at you. You stare back and say nothing. Then he crawls underneath them, too.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” You say.
He just pushes himself into the pillows and pulls the blanket up to his chin without a word, but he turns himself to face you.
You do the same.
“If that’s what you want.” He says.
You roll your eyes around as if you’re thinking and hmm under your breath. “Can I come closer?”
He nods.
You scoot yourself toward him until you can rest your forehead against his. “That’s better.”
“Can’t watch anything like this.”
“Oh, no I guess not,” you move back a little and look him over. “Should we—“
“No,” he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back. “This is good.”
You take the invitation and place your hand on his neck; he moves in for a kiss before you get the chance to, though. And he kisses hard enough to push you on your back.
For a moment you think this might be it, but you find yourself hesitating and softening your kiss. Then loosening the grip on his neck.
He pulls back and stares down at you.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do,” you cup his face and hold him there. “There’s no rush.”
“I know.” He comes back down, kisses you once, and then falls back at your side. But his arm remains draped over your stomach.
Your heart sinks a little. It feels like you don’t know what you want. Well, you do know you want him, but you’re nervous. Maybe just as nervous as he is. “Don’t think I don’t want to, because I do.”
Seungmin smiles and sets his head against your shoulder. “I know you do.”
He knows you want him. You’re glad he knows—and you love the way he says it.
“Are you stopping because you’re worried I’m not ready?”
“No, only you know that. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”
“You’re nervous?”
“I am.”
“You can’t be nervous if I’m nervous.”
He’s right. You take a deep breath and turn to face him again. Kiss him on the lips. Your free hand snakes around his waist, finds the hem of his shirt, and tucks underneath to run over his skin.
His muscles tighten for a second, then slowly relax as your hand moves upward against his side and across his shoulder blade. He sighs as you touch him.
You haven’t felt this much of his body until now.
You keep going, touching his stomach, his chest. It’s then that you feel his hand on you. It’s warm moving across your thigh, over your hip. His touch is soft, but he squeezes when he pulls you closer.
Seungmin slides his hand down to the back of your thigh and brings you as close as he can manage.
He’s on top off you again, hand still on you. His hips are gently pushing into yours. You can feel him through his sweatpants, and now your brain only wants one thing: to get them off of him.
“Seungmin,” you get him to look at you. “Seungmin?”
“Mhm?”
You pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside.
“Yeah?” He kisses your neck and lifts your shirt. “Are you okay?”
You nod and help him get it off.
“Oh,” he laughs and touches the spot directly below your sternum. “Tattoo.”
He looks over you slowly, a little shyly, before placing a kiss on your collarbone. You run a hand across the back of his neck. The other slides down his stomach until it reaches the band of his sweatpants.
Your heart beats wildly in your throat as your hand disappears. Fingers wrap around him and feel every inch. He whimpers softly into your neck. The hand buried in his hair moves down and kneads hard into his shoulder as your fingers stroke him.
Seungmin’s face is still in your neck, breathing hard. Eventually he takes a hand and maneuvers it to pull at his sweatpants. You let go to help slide them down enough to free him.
He moans, a little apprehensively, when you touch him again. You know you have to take it easy; he’s obviously very sensitive and you want this to last as long as possible for him.
“I like hearing you, don’t be shy.”
He tries to hold back an embarrassed laugh, but he does a bad job of it.
“Are you comfortable in this position? I could…do this with you on your back.”
He nods, but you don’t know which part he’s nodding to.
“Lie down.”
You let go of him until he’s on his back and relaxing. His face is still flushed and his breathing is a little shaky, but his eyes are almost closed. He seems relaxed enough. You kiss him and wrap your hand around him again.
His eyes open fully when you begin to stroke him again. His lips part and you slide your tongue against his.
The moans coming from him become a little louder. His hand lightly grips and slides down you arm.
“I didn’t really prepare for this. It could be better…if we had lube.”
“It feels good.” He whispers and smiles into your mouth. “Oh, I do have some.”
“Where?” You slow down a bit and let go of his lips. “I can grab it.”
“It’s…” he laughs sleepily, “it’s in my bag on the chair, in the smaller black bag.”
You climb over him and jump off the bed. The bag is is already open and a few things have been pulled out, but you can see a small black bag on the side. “I found it,” you unzip it and look around.
“It’s in the other little bag inside of that.” He laughs again. “Everyone is very nosy.”
You unzip the second bag, and there it is. It’s small, and still looks pretty full. You turn and look at him, “for when you’re lonely and horny on the road.”
He laughs again. “Yes, exactly.”
You warm a small amount in your hand and push the blanket down a little. You’ve touched him, but you haven’t really looked anywhere besides his lips and eyes yet. Now you watch your hand slowly move up and down , and the warmth and slickness makes everything so much better. You can feel how good it is for him. Your heartbeat drops into your stomach and you can feel yourself getting wetter every time he lets himself moan.
But as wet as you think you might be, his size is still more intimidating than you expected.
“You’re very good at this.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so soft.
“Yeah?”
He bites his lips and nods. “It feels so good.”
The room is warm, and the AC hasn't kicked on again. There are a few beads of sweat forming at his temple—you kiss him there and work your way down to his chest, then across his stomach.
The muscles tighten as you move across his hot skin, further and further down. When you slide your tongue across his head, he moans out the breath he’d been holding since you got to his chest. The sound he makes is desperate. He does it again when your lips close around him and your hand grips a little more tightly.
He wasn’t prepared for your mouth. He breathes out your name and it sends a wave of pleasure through you. His hand touches softly across your back and neck.
He says your name again.
“You okay, Minnie?” You kiss his stomach again and look up at him.
He nods and sits up, “can I touch you?”
You let go of him and straddle his stomach. He reaches for you and runs his fingers over the thin fabric. You put your hand over his and push your underwear to the side so he can feel you. There’s another, almost inaudible moan when he does.
Two fingers slip deep inside as you lean in to kiss him, and with your help, he gets the hang of moving inside of you.
You sigh sweetly into his mouth. You’re already much more sensitive than you normally would be. Every little movement he makes is causing just enough friction where you need it. The heel of his palm found your clit and you’re not sure he even realizes.
“I’m gonna come if you keep that up, wait a sec,” you stop his hand and take a deep breath.
“You are?” His voice cracks and he sits up more. His other hand has been digging into your hip, and he finally loosens his grip. There might be a bruise there later.
You grab his face and kiss him hard, then finally maneuver yourself out of your underwear while he’s there to keep you balanced. You reach behind and find his cock, stroke him a few times, and move back.
“Are you good if I…have a seat?” You laugh and wrap your other arm around his shoulder.
“Yes, very good,” he holds onto your waist to help steady you both.
When his head slides across you, he smiles and throws his head back. You do it again before carefully pushing him a little bit inside of you. It doesn’t take much to get another sound out of him.
“There’s a lot more to go,”
He looks drunk, but he smirks, “sorry.”
“For what?”
“For having a lot more to go,” he laughs.
“I’m not complaining.”
You push him deeper, just a little, because you’re not sure what your limit will be in this position.
And deeper. You watch him carefully. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open. You hold him tightly around the neck with both arms before slowly lifting yourself.
It takes a few more times before you find a rhythm , but when you do, you’re sure the sound Seungmin makes reaches the surrounding hotel rooms.
You try to quiet him with your mouth, but it only stifles him a little. You love the noise, but if the others are close enough to hear him, it might makes things awkward.
His hands hold your hips and slowly guide you up and down on his cock. You breath his name into his mouth, and he bites down on your lip.
His voice is a whisper. “Is it okay?”
“Yes,” you whine and push yourself as far down as you can. It stings, just a little, and only for a moment. “You feel so good.”
He leans back to watch himself slide inside of you, and the lusty, satisfied look on his face is making the ride even smoother. “Do I?” He takes your face in his hand and runs his thumb along your lips and cheek.
The room disappears and all that exists is the feeling of him; his breath on your neck, his voice in your ears. His hands grip you tighter, lifting you, and holding you steady when he fills you up again.
He’s not ready for it when you pick up your pace. His fingers dig hard into your hips—you hear him swear under his breath as he attempts to keep himself under control.
“Talk to me, I wanna hear your voice. Do you like it, Minnie?”
Seungmin kisses your neck, his lips graze over your ear, “yes,” he manages through the soft sounds he can’t hold back, “yes, fuck. You feel amazing.”
You pull him away and look at him, arms still wrapped firmly around his neck. One hand slides up and into his hair. “I like you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Under me, lost in it. I thought you were sexy before…but—“
“You think I’m sexy?” His smile is cute and tipsy, voice is airy. If it weren’t for you holding him up, he’d be flat on his back.
All of the sudden, you’re snapped back to reality. Seungmin is there, eyes wide, but the room is back. You’re no longer floating. You lost control and went a little too hard, and it hurt. You make a pained sound and all of your weight is on his shoulders.
“Did I hurt you?” He holds you up and pulls out, and you’re now relieved to be giving your burning thighs a break.
“No, no you didn’t,” You have to kiss him to get rid of the worried look on his face. “That was my fault.”
“We should change positions.”
You lay back on the pillows and grab his waist when he crawls over you. Your legs fall open and rest on either side of him.
“This is a bad angle for you to look at,” he smiles and hides his face in your neck.
You lift his face back up, “is that a joke? You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever had between my legs.”
He whispers a no and hides his face again, but at the same time, his fingertips slide down your thigh as if he’s teasing you.
”Sexiest…” you moan into his ear and wrap your legs around him to bring him closer.
You don’t need to give him any more direction. He explores you briefly with his fingers before guiding himself in the same way you did; slow and gentle.
“I’ll be careful…” he slides in easily in this position, stopping short to make sure he isn’t going too far.
You take his hips and carefully pull him in the rest of the way.
A rough groan jumps out of him when you meet. He stays there and looks at you until you brush the hair from his eyes and speak. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he smiles, looks down your body, then back up to your face. “Just like looking at you.”
“I’m the one with the view,” you kiss him and shift your hips, getting another sound out of him.
Now he’s finding a rhythm, but he’s much more reserved than you were. He seems to know his own limits, and maybe he’s trying not to overdo it and finish too fast.
“Is this okay?” He nuzzles into your ear and whispers before kissing you just below it.
“Yes,” your hands run up his sides and back, his neck, into his hair, “it’s perfect.”
He thrusts into you, very delicately, a few more times before slowing down. Then he stops completely, still inside of you. He’s breathing hard, eyes closed in concentration.
“Seungmin?”
“I just…need a few seconds.”
“Take your time,” you take his hand in yours and help his thumb find your clit.
He moves it in slow circles and watches you for any direction. But he does very well. He has a light touch, and a good pace. His hands are soft and warm. This, combined with him inside of you, looking down at you with eyes drunk with pleasure trying so hard not to come yet, is making everything happen very fast. But you don’t mind.
When he pulls out halfway and pushes back inside, you whimper and the pleased look on his face pushes you over the edge. He smiles and starts fucking you again, and he doesn't let up—you feel it coming. You moan much louder than you intend. He loves hearing it.
Your back arches up and your legs squeeze around him. It lasts a long time, and he doesn’t stop—just carefully touches you in the right spot until your body finally relaxes
“Wow…did you—”
You nod and try to catch your breath.
He doesn’t get through his question because it’s his turn. He comes hard and fast. The condom was completely forgotten up until this point, and he certainly doesn’t attempt to pull out. You don’t even allow yourself to dwell on it—you just enjoy the moment.
Seungmin’s mouth hangs open, and his eyes water. His moan is different this time; it’s more feral. His whole body tightens and moves in slow motion as his orgasm passes through him. He pumps into you until he can't take it anymore..
Then he’s catching his breath and regaining his composure. He comes down to kiss you, tucks an arm under your neck to bring you closer. He slowly pulls out and puts his weight on his knees.
“Come here…”
He listens and slowly lowers himself next to you. His hair is a little damp from sweat, and his face is pink. It’s a good look for him. You pull the sheet up and over both of you, then wipe at his brow with your thumb.
“That was nice,” he’s still catching his breath. His eyes close and you can see his body soften and relax on the pillows. “That was very nice.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“It was better than nice,” his eyes flutter open and he looks at you. Then he reaches out and pulls until there’s no space left between you. “It was much better than I thought it could be.”
“Wow,” you say into his neck. “That’s quite a compliment.”
“But I’m sorry, it’s probably not great that we didn’t use protection.”
“No, but I’ll take care of it in the morning.”
Someone’s phone buzzes.
“I think that was me,” Seungmin says and reaches behind him. His phone got lost somewhere underneath the blankets. As soon as he glances at the screen, he tosses it behind him again. “Are you going to stay the night?” He asks, arms tight around you again.
“I should get home before my mom starts to worry.”
He nods and tries to hide a pout.
“But you’re leaving in the morning, right?
“I think so, I’m not sure what time.”
“Would it be alright if I spent the night? So we can say goodbye.”
“Yes, that's a much better plan.”
“Can I use the shower?” You wiggle free of his grasp and look at him, “heat, concert, sex…that’s a lot to sleep in.”
Seungmin laughs and nods, “yes, go take a long hot shower.”
____
When you come back to the room, Seungmin is sitting at the desk writing. You can hear soft music playing from his phone. There are fresh clothes laid out on your side of the bed: the shirt you had on very briefly, and a pair of very comfy looking sweatpants.
“Are these for me?” You ask. He’s already cleaned up and redressed.
He closes his book he’s writing in and spins around in the chair, “yes, I’m sure they won’t fit very well, but they’re comfortable.”
“Thank you.” You drop your towel and pick up the shirt.
Seungmin stares at you as you pull it over your head, “what?” You laugh and grab the sweatpants. They are soft and they look expensive.
“Uhm, sorry…I didn’t see you without your bra before.”
You think he might be blushing.
“Oh!” You grab your chest, “I guess you didn’t. Come here.”
“Hm?” He smirks and walks toward you as you lift the shirt back over your head. “Oh…”
You take his hands and he immediately touches you, running his palms, and then his fingertips, over your nipples. They stiffen from his touch. He sits at the edge of the bed and pulls you closer, keeping one hand on your chest. The other runs down your side and over your ass. He squeezes and kisses the spot where your tattoo is.
This could turn into something very quickly, but right now you want nothing more than to get under the covers with him and sleep. You know he needs it.
“I like this,” he pulls at the hem of your shirt when you slip it back on. “You look cute in my clothes.”
____
It’s nice waking up next to him.
The room is still dark because the curtains are pulled shut, but not completely—little bits of sunlight make it in through the sides. You can see his sleeping face, cheek squashed against the pillow, lips slightly parted. He’s curled up tight in his spot with the blanket only covering his lower half, but one bare knee is far up enough to poke out.
His arm is reaching toward you, palm up and fingers curled. You slide your hand over the sheets and gently touch him. His fingers twitch and then close around yours.
He sighs deeply, then opens his eyes. First he looks at his hand holding onto yours, then his eyes move along your arm and up to where you’re laying on your pillow.
“Good morning,” he squeezes your hand and moves himself closer to you. “Did you sleep well?”
You nod and pull his hand up to your lips. “Did you?”
“Mhm, very well.”
“Did I tell you how amazing you were last night?” You ask and fluff his hair, “I mean…” you hide behind a hand, “I’m still asleep.”
“Well, I don’t know about…amazing.”
“The concert I mean!” you hide your face in the pillow, and Seungmin giggles as he tries to get you to look at him.
“I was okay I think.”
“The concert was…and you. I was focused on you the whole time.” You clarify as much as possible through your grin.
“You focused on Seungmin the whole time?”
“Yeah, the best part.
“And last night…last last night.” He smiles wide.
“Also focused on Seungmin.”
He pushes himself closer until his face disappears into your neck. “Thank you.”
A knock echoes through the room. Three heavy knocks. The voice that comes through is soft. “Seungmin, are you up?”
“Oh, it’s Lee Know. Stay here.”
You stay put and pull the covers up over your shoulders, but you turn to face the door. Seungmin opens the locks and pulls it open a few inches.
“What’s wrong? It’s still early.”
“I know, but I thought you might want to get breakfast,” Lee Know puts a palm on his side of the door and pushes, “can I not come in?”
“Uh, you can but…” Seungmin hesitates. “I’m not alone.” He gives in when Lee Know takes several steps into the room. He won’t be able to hide you for much longer.
“Oh,” he looks to the spot on the bed where you’re under a pile of covers. “Is it the girl, the one who was at the soundcheck?”
“Did IN tell you about her?.”
“No, Chan did. I should go. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to go,” you squeak out. You can just make him out from your spot, and when you pull the covers down from your nose, his whole body comes into view. Then you remember that one of them doesn't speak English very well, and you think it may have been him. You repeat yourself in Korean.
His eyes widen a bit. “Should we all get into bed, then?” He can be sarcastic and dry; you remember Seungmin mentioned that as well.
You sit up and look at him with a smirk on your face. “He’s the boss.” You nod toward Seungmin.
“You’re the boss,” Lee Know looks at Seungmin and winks. “Text me if you want to come.”
Now he turns to you, “nice to meet you,” he smirks and lets himself out.
Seungmin let’s out a long sigh when he’s gone.
“Come back to bed,” you move the blankets from his spot and fluff up his pillow. “Please.”
He listens and crawls back to your side. When he puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close, he says, “I was nervous about you meeting him.”
“Lee Know? Why were you nervous?”
“Am…am nervous, I guess.”
“You don’t think he’d like me?”
“The opposite, actually.” He hides his face in your chest and whines.
You oooh into his ear and it makes him giggle. “Does that tickle?” You move his hair and place a kiss there.
“I think you two are very similar.” Seungmin says. “You remind me of him sometimes, especially when we text.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” he shakes his head, still shoved into your chest. “But, I just think you’d like him.”
You scoot yourself down until you’re face to face with him, but he still doesn’t lift his gaze. “Hey, look at me.”
He doesn't.
"Minnie?"
This time he listens, but he also gives you his best puppy eyes.
“You think I’ll get to know him and like him more than I like you?”
Seungmin nods.
“And that he’ll steal me away from you?”
He nods again, then stops and shakes his head, "You're not really mine to be stolen away..." he scrunches his face up in thought, wondering if his English made any sense.
“Well, I’m a little flattered you’d think someone else would like me that much. I’m much more flattered you don’t wanna have me stolen away.”
He rubs his eyes and sits himself up on the bed. “I’m sorry, I know we already talked about this.”
“We can talk about it again if you want to.”
He shakes his head and gets back under the covers. His hands find you and start to paw—at your side, your hip. He slides one down your outer thigh, and slowly back up. Then he starts to talk anyway. “He also knows Choonhee very well.”
“Okay, I think I'm understanding. I could have possibly been set up with Lee Know instead of Seungmin?”
You can hear his dramatic whine from underneath the covers. “It is very possible.”
“But I was set up with you for a reason. And you’re the first person I went on a date with since I left home, so I got very lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“Yeah, lucky. Good dates are hard to find.”
Seungmin pokes his head out from the covers and smiles at you. “I’m glad I was a good date.”
"You were a perfect date."
"You should call me Minnie more." He says it's softly, but his hands are in a dangerous spot. "All the time. I like it.
"You were a perfect date, Minnie."
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irisintheafterglow · 7 months
Text
geto suguru loves taking pictures and you are his favorite subject to photograph.
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his phone camera roll is just filled with candids of you
candids from dates, candids at dinner, candids in the kitchen, candids while you're taking a nap, candids when you're both out with his friends
will patiently direct you where to stand so the sun catches your face correctly
if you say that you have a good side or a bad side, he'll get annoyed
he thinks all sides of you are pretty <3
he never asks for you to take photos of him, nor does he expect you to
he doesn't ever explain why he takes so many except for
"i don't know, i like lookin' at you."
if you're out on a hike or somewhere pretty, he'll tell you to go stand somewhere so he can take a photo of you
his favorites are when you give him a little nose scrunch and he mirrors your face behind the camera
he won't show them to anyone without your permission, and he will ask for permission every. single. time.
you'll get a call in the middle of the day that says like
"babe can i show satoru the photo i took of you in the garden?"
"sure love, you don't need to ask me if it's just satoru."
"i know, but i feel better making sure you're okay with it anyway."
his beige flag is that he changes his homescreen and lockscreen about 200 times a week
if he had to pick a favorite, it'd probably be you standing under a flowering tree beaming at him like he's your whole world
he keeps finding cute photos of you and sometimes his mood changes
so if he's feeling protective or going somewhere that makes him uneasy in the slightest, he's changing his phone backgrounds so that your face isn't visible at all
not like he'd let anyone take his phone from him, though
the photos on it are too important
also love love love love LOVES polaroids
did i mention he loves polaroids
especially likes it when he catches you off guard and you end up having a funny face immortalized on film
for one of your anniversary presents, he gets you one of those necklaces with the photo inside
the photo is of you, him, satoru, and shoko eating ice cream after a mission
suguru looks like he's on the brink of homicide towards satoru, shoko has a cigarette sticking out from her scoop, and you're smiling at the kind man who offered to take a photo of you and your friends
he's very good about getting the film in his disposable cameras developed and most of the photos end up plastered on your wall
when you're gone on a mission, he'll just look at the photos and miss you and eventually ends up calling you because no photo compares to the real muse
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490 notes · View notes
drewharrisonwriter · 8 months
Text
Donor Part 4 (Final)
Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC
A/N, Warnings: 18+, this is it... the last part of Donor. English is not my first language.
I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^
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“Oh…” A gasp escaped your lips, your hand instinctively covering your mouth as shock settled in. Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at all three positive pregnancy tests resting on the bathroom counter. A silent rush of emotions flooded over you, causing your hands to tremble in disbelief as you picked one up. The cool, marbled counter became your anchor as your legs threatened to give way beneath you.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, you attempted to compose yourself. With the sleeves of your sweater, you wiped away the tears that had started to flow and went out the bathroom with one of the tests to look for Henry. Your heart is racing and your mind feels like it’s about to turn into mush, you should be happy about this, why are you so nervous?
The voices drifted from the kitchen as you reached the landing of the staircase. Passing through the living room, you moved under the archway that led to the dining area. And there stood Henry in an old and faded gray t-shirt and jeans, hands submerged in soapy water, gently tending to your 7-month-old daughter, Vivienne. The kitchen told a tale of joyful chaos—baby food scattered about, unfinished waffles sitting on the kitchen island, and blueberries on the floor.
“Mama!” A joyful squeal from your 4 year old daughter, Marianna, or Mari as you fondly call her, greeted you as she caught sight of you at the kitchen's entrance, her little sister, two year old Serena (Sisi), mimicking her with a wave.
“We cwean the house fow you!” Sisi's prideful proclamation filled the room, her adorable voice resonating with accomplishment. A soft smile adorned your lips as you warmly acknowledged your young helpers. Under your breath, you praised, “Great job, babies.”
Henry turned around with a beaming smile on his face, his laughter still echoing from moments earlier when your 7-month-old daughter had been gleefully causing a watery mess in the kitchen.
“Hey, darling, how are you feeling?” he asked, his smile tinged with a touch more concern. He gently scooped up the baby, wrapping her in a towel and patting her dry.
Your throat tightened, and your eyes brimmed with tears once more. As though Henry sensed the impending news, he shook his head in disbelief, a chuckle escaping him. "No, no way…" he muttered, his grin so expansive you thought his face might rip in half. 
“Hank…” you began, your voice trembling. You trailed off, the weight of emotions overtaking you, and you broke into sobs.
“Oh no!” Mari exclaimed, getting up from the floor to hug your leg. “It’s okay, mama.” She said softly, rubbing a hand up and down your leg, and you managed to chuckle a little, running a hand through her dark curls to show your appreciation. Sisi, the ever clone of her older sister, did the same. 
He moved closer, his voice soothing and warm. “Oh, no, no, no, darling. Don’t cry, just tell me,” he cooed, placing the baby in her high chair and wiping his hands on his trousers as he walked toward you and the girls, enveloping you in a comforting embrace.
“I’m so sorry,” you repeated between sobs, but he shushed you gently and the girls went back to picking up blueberries from the floor. 
Henry knew. 
Of course he does. He knows you so well, and you’ve been feeling sick and losing appetite the past few weeks, plus your period came in really light earlier in the month. You have been so sensitive to touch and have been feeling sluggish and sleepy. 
But the icing on the cake happened the other night where you cried watching a wildlife commercial where a bird was swallowed by an alligator and Henry fought back so hard not to laugh but failed, miserably, exploding in a fit of laughter which got you even more riled up, throwing pillows at him. You both had been through this three times before, with the last one not being that long ago, he knew the signs so well by now. 
He had playfully suggested you take a pregnancy test before seeing your doctor, those mischievous eyebrows of his wiggling with a teasing twinkle in his eyes. You had brushed it off, convinced it was too soon and impossible. 
Yet, here you were, holding one of the three positive tests in your hand. His response was laughter, a joyful sound that blended with the soft kisses he planted on your tear-streaked face.
“I told you so!” he teased, his laughter mixing with your sobs.
Through your tears, you irritatingly asked him, “How do you find this so amusing? Vivi is only 7 months old. How are we ever going to manage?”
Henry's laughter lingered, accompanied by the cheerful chatter of his other daughters in the backdrop. In that moment, his heart felt as though it might burst from the sheer joy of the moment.
“It’s alright, darling, don’t cry,” he cooed, wiping the tears on your cheeks with his thumb.
“You’re not upset?” you were surprised by his unwavering calm in contrast to your own turbulent emotions. “Or scared?”
He chuckled, his affectionate response carrying the weight of his feelings. “First of all, I could never be upset about having more babies with you. And no, we've been through this before. You're giving me another child, for god's sake, nothing can make me happier than that.” He sealed his words with a lingering kiss pressed to your forehead.
Despite his reassurances, your fears lingered. “I’m so scared.” You admitted, “And I feel like we're not being fair to Vivi.” Your gaze drifted to your 7-month-old daughter, snugly wrapped in a soft, yellow chick towel. She sat there contentedly, fingers in her mouth, her wide blue eyes taking in the world. A cascade of curly brown hair framed her face from under the chick hoodie, still holding onto droplets of bathwater.
Henry's voice carried a reassuring tenderness. “It’s going to be alright, darling. I'm always here for you, you know that….” 
You were well aware of that. For over two decades, Henry had consistently shown what an incredible best friend he could be — his generosity and love knew no bounds. However, all of that paled in comparison to the depth of his role as your husband and the father of your children.
Henry then leaned in and whispered so the kids won’t hear, “You know how much I love it when you’re pregnant, right?” You let out a brief chuckle as he nuzzled his nose against your earlobe and you buried your face in his chest, muffling your voice as you exclaimed, "Ugh, Haaaaank... how did we end up here?" 
Your words were absorbed by his chest, and he couldn't help but burst into laughter once again. He gently pulled away and turned his attention to the little girls who were now devouring the blueberries they were meant to clean up from the floor.
"Guess what, my lovely princesses. You're going to have another baby sister!" Henry's excitement filled the room, while you responded with a groan. The girls cheered, their joyful leaps reflecting the news.
"How can you be so certain it'll be another girl?" You posed the question to him.
"Well, given the pattern we've got going, isn't it a safe bet at this point?" His smile conveyed his playful confidence and you only shook your head in disbelief.
Eight years have passed since you and Hank began clinically trying for a baby – as best friends. Seven years since you tied the knot, wasting no time to start your lives together just months after the events of Charlie's birthday. You spent your honeymoon in Amalfi, and bought a farmhouse outside of London, big enough for the big family you were planning. 
But while your relationship and its changes flowed smoothly, your attempts to conceive were still not as easy. It took nearly two more years before Marianna was conceived naturally. 
After over a year of trying, you and Henry considered going through another round of IUI, hoping that it would not lead you to the IVF path. But an accident during the final show of your tour sent you to the ER right after the last number. The standard blood work results brought an unexpected surprise – a positive pregnancy test – leaving you momentarily breathless.
Henry was overseas with Kal doing reshoots for a film he did the previous year and won’t be back for another month. You were itching to call him right then and there and tell him but you decided it’s best if you do it in person, and so you wait. 
When he got back a month later, Kal immediately made a beeline for you, his tail wagged furiously as he bounded toward you, showering you with affectionate licks and nuzzles. You couldn't help but laugh, feeling his excitement to be home and to see you.
Henry smiled warmly as he entered the foyer of your home, watching the scene unfold. "Looks like someone really missed you," he remarked.
"Well, I missed him, too." You said in a special voice that you only use with the pets, cupping Kal's head in your hands.
Henry grinned widely, and asked, "And me? Did you miss me, too?" You snorted, standing up and you nodded your head in response. 
You embraced him, your arms circling his neck as he drew you in for a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. Henry's voice held a hint of longing as he whispered, "I missed you so much." You echoed his sentiment.
You settled on the couch where almost immediately, your fat cats, Tuna and Luna, jumped on you in their ever so softly feline way and began settling on your lap where they softly purred in contentment. 
Henry cocked an eyebrow and looked at you, “That’s new.” He remarked, knowing so well that the cats would rather lay down on burning coals than curl up with any humans. You only shook your head with a smile, gently stroking the cats who are now settling into a nap. 
“I suppose when we go outside by the barn, the birds will perch on your shoulders and our chickens will begin to sing?” He joked and you let out a loud laugh.
“Shut up, you watch far too many Disney films. How was L.A.?” You asked him, trying your best to buy yourself time before breaking the news to him. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, and he picked up on it when he noticed you were chewing your bottom lip as he spoke. 
“You're nervous." He stated, "What’s going on, Snow White?”
You giggled nervously, your heart skipped a beat at his words. There was no avoiding it now. You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze with a mixture of emotions. 
"Hank," you began, your voice wavering slightly, "there's something I need to tell you."
“Please don’t tell me you’re going away…” His tone dripped with a hint of heartbreak, his brows furrowing at the thought of you leaving and doing long distance again. As you hesitated, he sank back into the couch, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose in a gesture of frustration. "I just got home, darling. I was hoping we could at least spend some time together aft–"
You cut him off right then, “Hank, I’m pregnant.” 
His eyes shot open, his fingers still at the bridge of his nose, frozen as he processed the news.  "What?" he murmured, his expression shifting from confusion to a slow, dawning smile as the news began to sink in. You repeated the words, and he shook his head in disbelief, a grin stretching across his face so widely that you half expected it to split in two.
“We’re having a baby!” He exclaimed pulling you in a tight embrace, peppering your face with small kisses and then he began sniffling. 
Henry-Fucking-Superman-Cavill is crying at the news of your pregnancy. 
He did the same at the first one, and again when you got pregnant with Sisi and Vivi.
And now, with baby number 4 on the way, he's just as emotional as ever.
The kids have settled in for their mid-day nap, and with the kitchen now tidy, you and Henry find yourselves sprawled out on the couch. You rest against his chest, his hand gently on your stomach, tracing soothing circles, his breath is hot and wet on your neck.
“I can’t believe we’re having another baby this soon,” You said, reaching back to run your fingers on his curls to soothe him.
“Sometimes, I don’t believe that we are living the life we have now.” he choked on his words. "I've always wanted this with you, and all those years, it seemed like a dream."
His confession, though all too familiar from the countless times he’s said it over the years, still tugged at your heartstrings, and you smiled in response.
"It's funny, because you were very reluctant to donate sperm in the first place. I literally had to beg you." you teased, a chuckle escaping your lips, followed by his own laughter.
"But I'm so glad you did, though... Look at what we have now, three beautiful princesses and another princess on the way," Henry chimed in, his laughter laced with pride.
"Stop saying it’s going to be another girl, you might be disappointed. Remember how you were convinced Vivi was a boy?" you playfully retorted.
"Disappointed?" He chuckled in disbelief. "Impossible. Doesn't matter if I'm wrong or right about this one," He splayed his hand on your stomach that's still soft from your last pregnancy and now housing another growing life.  "You’re my children’s mother. That’s what matters the most." he kissed you on the temple as he gently pulled you in closer to him. 
You hummed, “Thank you for agreeing to be a donor.” You laughed together. 
Funny how things turned out after one silly decision that sprouted from an even sillier dream. If anyone had told you eight years ago that your life would unfold so beautifully, you'd have likely chuckled, maybe even taken a long sip from a pint of beer and wondered how it could possibly happen when all that ever happened to you up until that point is to find dead-ends in every relationship you’ve ever been in. 
You had at least made bank from the sad songs you’ve written about those relationships over the years. Something that Henry would often joke about or even sing just to annoy you, and those times you often find yourself pondering on what could have been, even more. 
If you hadn't mustered the courage to ask Henry to help you pursue your dream of becoming a mother, the path you tread might have taken a different turn. For all you know, you could be still touring at this moment, singing sad songs after sad songs, and not nestled in the arms of the love of your life, with your little dreams sleeping in their bedrooms upstairs in the house that you and Henry have made a home. 
All of these twists and turns coalesced to lead you to this very moment.
And despite all that you both went through, you wouldn't change a thing. Even if it took nearly 20 years for the both of you to pave your way into the path that you're in now. 
"I love you, Hank," you whispered.
"I love you more, darling." he whispered back, “Always.”
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