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#i got some as a gift and still haven’t used them because i like them so
lisbeth-kk · 2 days
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May Prompts (26) Manipulate
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The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 26)
Summary: Rosie finds an unmarked box in her wardrobe. When John scolds himself for lacking as a parent, Rosie sets things straight.
Twenty-Six Years Old
Six months after my return to London, I was moving out again. The internship at the ministry of justice paid surprisingly well. I couldn’t help but think that a certain uncle had been using his manipulation skills again… In addition to my wage, the generous inheritance from Nana and Timothy’s income from his published novel, were more than sufficient to buy a decent flat in Stockwell. 
Nana had clearly wanted that 221 Baker Street was well looked after, and gifted it to her two boys, and insisted in her will that if Deidre, or Dee, as she preferred to be called, needed a home, 221A should be hers. And for the last two years, 221A had been occupied by Dee. My parents got along with her like a house on fire.
“It’s like having a younger version of Hudders down there,” Papa stated.
“Agreed. The sassiness runs in the family, I presume. Dee’s skills in the kitchen are sadly things she did not inherit from her aunt, though,” Dad said.
“Definitely not! She almost sat the flat on fire when she was boiling eggs,” Papa filled in.
***
Moving out the first time, had been poles apart to this move. That time I was going on an adventure, and I knew it was for just a period. When I moved in with Timothy, it was forever, and that was more bittersweet than I’d anticipated.
Moving to Paris, I had only taken clothes, some books, my laptop and the like. Stripping my room bare, was something entirely different. There were so many memories, and I knew I had to get rid of some of them because the flat wasn’t exactly big, and there were Timothy’s things to consider as well.
Over the next weeks I felt that I lived inside a cardboard box. They were everywhere, even downstairs to let me have some room to move around upstairs and leave the bed free to sleep in.
On the floor inside my wardrobe, I found an old box that had remained hidden behind clothes, rucksacks, shoes and a bag with blankets. It wasn’t marked and I couldn’t remember having placed it there. I opened the flaps and gasped in surprise.
“How are you getting on?” Dad called from the stairs and seconds later he entered my room.
I looked up at him with a stunned expression. When he saw the box, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed heavily.
“Right. I’d forgotten all about that one,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve failed to keep her memory alive for you, haven’t I?”
“Dad,” I scolded him. “You had far more important things to cope with when she died. Raising me with Papa is the greatest gift you could’ve given me. Never be sorry for that. I don’t remember her at all. From what I’ve gathered she did some horrible things to you both. No, stop. She did. I may not know the full extent of it, but it doesn’t matter that she was my mother. Remember what Papa said about extended and chosen family. They can be way better than the biological one. Not that I would want to replace you, mind.”
We both looked down at the photo of my mother and Dad on their wedding day. I didn’t recall when it had been replaced with the wedding photo of Dad and Papa. It felt strange and a bit eerie to look at Dad embracing another person like that. I took it out and placed it in the box that was going to the bins.
“Rosie!” Dad exclaimed, more out of shock than anything else.
“It’s wrong, Dad. I don’t need that. To me she’s the one who gave me life, but she was never in it when it mattered, and I’ve never missed having a mother. I consider myself the luckiest girl in the world having you and Papa as parents. You’ve done a great job, and uncle Myc, Nana, Molly, Granny, Pops, and uncle Greg have been brilliant carers as well. Now, what else is in here?”
I found Ted, still stained with tomato sauce, a white baby blanket with a bee pattern, tiny boxes containing a curl of my hair, my first tooth, a book where my growth, my first real meal, my first words, my first steps, my first trip, (to Barts), my favourite toys and books were painstakingly written down in Papa’s handwriting. My eyes filled with tears when I realised how much love lay behind those notes.
“He didn’t let me near that book with my horrible handwriting,” Dad said in a choked voice, clearly as emotional as me.
Another book caught my eye. The one uncle Greg had mentioned. A book with children’s names. It was worn, and I didn’t know whether that was from Papa searching for male names starting with a G, or my mother’s search for names meant for me.
“Did you…”
“No,” Dad cut me off. “She’d already decided on a name once we got back together. After…”
He didn’t have to finish that sentence, and I’m glad he stopped himself. Just thinking about it made me nauseous. 
I hadn’t told Timothy about her yet, but I knew I needed to. He would eventually ask. The lack of photos of her would ensure that. I reminded myself to ask uncle Myc how much I could reveal. Not that I knew more than half of it myself.
After I’d put the box aside, I leant into Dad where he sat beside me and placed my head on his shoulder. He put his arm around me and pulled me in for a hug.
“I’m so glad you decided to move back here with me after she died,” I murmured. “We would’ve been miserable without him.”
“Yeah, two years was enough for a lifetime,” Dad said and drew me closer, kissing the top of my head.
“I bet Papa is relieved that he can walk around in just a sheet now that I’m moving out for good,” I quipped to brighten the mood.
Dad chuckled and he was unable to hide the glint in his eyes at this prospect.
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All the love to the other magnificent participants <3 Thanks to everyone for the endless support and especially to those who normally don't read parent!lock, but despite that are walking the extra mile. I'm in awe!
@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels
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neo-nomatrix · 5 months
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In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!reader
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word count: a little over 1k
summary: you’ve had your heart broken many times, maybe the Hermes boy will be different
You have only ever wanted to be loved. For whatever reason you haven’t had much luck. Sure, there were many guys.
Callum from Ares. The only thing hotter than him was his temper.
Ryan from Hephaestus. He would forge copper to make you jewelry, little did you know three other girls had the same gift.
Ezra from Athena. Always thought he was so much smarter and better than you. Made you want to shoot your arrow straight at him.
Aiden from Hermes. A liar who couldn’t take anything seriously.
Elliott from Ares. Was dared by Callum to lock you in a dark room. And he actually listened.
Being the child of Apollo had its perks, but it more often had downsides. Your least favorite being your ability to fall in love so easily. After Elliot you swore off falling in love. A pain even you couldn’t heal. You couldn’t understand why nothing seemed to work out for you, you were a dreamboat!
A beautiful daughter of Apollo who glowed like the sun. Not only were you his daughter, you were his favorite, the hundreds of freckles on your face proved it. You were kind and generous, always willing to take in an injured camper from dusk to dawn. Your smile quite literally lit up a room. Perhaps you were too nice? Maybe they thought they could take advantage of your kindness?
Whatever the reason was doesn’t matter. You decided to take a page from your aunt Artemis’ book. No more boys, no more falling in love. Things will be easier this way. You know it.
You should’ve been at the bonfire with everyone else. You chose to skip it tonight because you wished to be alone, at the archery range. Maybe you’d earn another freckle if Apollo saw you practicing your already perfect shot. Luke should’ve been at the bonfire too, singing with your half-siblings and roasting marshmallows.
“Hey! I need some help!” A deep, painful cry said.
Immediately worried, you turned around and saw Luke Castellan holding his abdomen. You immediately run over to him, taking his arm over yours and getting to your cabin as soon as possible. You decided the infirmary was too far and you could use the cot in your cabin.
You slam through the cabin door and lay him on the cot in the middle of the bunk beds. “Lay down.”
You pull up his blood stained orange shirt to reveal a large gash on the side of his toned stomach. You held your hand on his abdomen for a moment to assess what happened. A second degree burn and large slices, as if by a horn, caused this.
“How did this happen?” You ask as you start to transfer some of the pain to a potted plant, causing it to wilt.
“Accident with a hephaestus kid, wrong place, wrong time I guess,” He says slightly wincing.
“I can take most of the pain but it’ll still take a while to heal,” You explain.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at the bonfire, leading a song with the rest of your cabin?” He asks.
“I could ask you the same thing, wandering around the blacksmiths. You know those things they make are pretty hot right?” You scoff at him.
“Yeah I guess I do now,” he rolls his eyes.
You begin to bandage the wound and give him a slice of bread. “Bread? What the hell is this gonna do?” he questions.
“My sister Melody made it, it can heal the burns for the most part,” you say.
“Aren’t you the girl who dated Aiden?” He asks bluntly, taking a bite of the bread.
“That’s none of your business,” You roll your eyes.
“If you ask me-” he begins to say before you cut him off.
“I’m not.”
“He was an idiot. All those guys were. I mean seriously, didn’t anyone teach them how to treat a pretty girl?” He continues, not fazed by you interrupting him.
“All those guys? You know about them?” You question.
“I guess. I mean after word got out about that shithead Elliot I did some asking,” he shrugs. You frown at the mention of Elliot.
“Whatever, they’re all in the past. No more guys for me,” you tell him.
“You shouldn’t give up entirely, these guys are stupid. There’s someone out there who deserves you, trust,” He assures you.
“Oh yeah? Tell me when you meet him,” You laugh.
“I think i know a guy, actually,” He responds, sitting up slightly.
“Oh yeah? Do tell.”
“Well, he’s tall, tan, and goddamn gorgeous. Has these soft brown curls, and I heard he’s the best swordsman at camp. Perfect for the best archer,” He explains to you, smiling.
“You seem to be fond of him, maybe you should go date him,” You joke.
“Nah, I think he likes this girl from Apollo. Kind, generous, beautiful, best healer and archer around,” He locks eyes with yours, darting between your eyes and your lips.
He holds your face in his hand, circling his thumb. His shirt rides up exposing his stomach and bandages.
“You like what you see?” He teases.
“You’re an idiot,” You smile.
“That seems to be your type,” he shrugs and knits his brows.
Before you can say another word he presses a kiss against your lips, moving them softly against yours. One of his hands stays on your neck while the other ventures down to your waist and then the chair you sat in. He pulls the chair closer to him and puts his hand back on your waist. You move one of your hands to his knee and the other to right beside him, leaning in closer.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” He’s whispers into the kiss.
You smile at him before pausing. “The bonfire’s almost over, maybe you should head back,” you say.
“Yeah probably,” he gives you one last hard kiss followed by another few pecks.
He stands up and steadys himself, the injury clearly still pains him. He starts to walk away but before he can leave he turns back to you and presses a few more kisses against you.
“Okay, I’m done. y’know for now,” he smirks.
“You’re welcome anytime,” You laugh and he leaves. He gives you two looks before exiting.
Maybe you’ll give this boy one more chance.
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pokeherps · 1 year
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5? :3c
5) what's your favorite kind of pokéball?
depends on what we’re basing it on. my favourite for just pure vibes is the luxury ball, it looks cool and it’s a nice ball for pokémon to be housed in but it’s SO hard to catch anything in it for some reason. maybe i’m just hella unlucky.
my favourite design is probably the moon ball but for a herpmon trainer like me they really don’t have much utility.
my favourite for actual usefulness is the quick ball. the design sucks but i am not good at battling and if i get to just chuck one at something it is so much easier than actually having to use skill to catch things
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hr43s · 2 months
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Goverment Hooker
dbf Joel Miller x f!reader ( Joel is a Security Guard )
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Summary: Joel miller, your dad’s best friend is a security guard for celebrities. He takes you to one of his jobs as part of a university homework you need to do, but he let his guard down.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI ! No outbreak, Unprotected p in v, mutual masturbation, explicit smut, a lil dominant Joel, secret relationship, orgasm denial, edging, dirty talk, fingering, semi-public sex, very slight bondage ( hand tied up, can easily be freed if wanted),Age gap, DBF Joel because who doesn't like that tbh, reader is in her 20', No body description except outfit and gender, no outbreak, porn w/plot, fluff, kind of slowburn.
w/c: 6k ( i'm actually proud for a second time )
a/n: Second smut !! i'm so proud of this one it's wayyy longer than the first one i did and like 10 times better (crying). Also theres a fanart on the banner but when i found it on pinterest the artist wasnt tagged :((( so please if you know who it is please feel free to comment !! love you whoever is reading this <3
Thank you for reading <3 notes, comments and reblog are heavily appreciated !!
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“I need to do this uh…homework” you chew on your food. Good, delicious, and steamy coming right out of the stove. “I have to go to one of you two’s job and make a report” you stab one of the peas in your plate. “I mean I’d gladly take you but you know how boring my job is, huh? And your mom’s abroad” your dad says, rushing to eat his plate.
Your dad works a night job at an Amazon warehouse, something about packing orders, taking a box, putting wrapping paper and the object inside the box, taping it up, taking another box, putting wrapping paper inside, and bla bla bla… Your mom, she’s an airplane pilot going around the world. She’s barely home but she always make sure to send you some well decorated cards with landscapes on them, or to ship some gifts like magnets, you love magnets, your fridge is full of it by now but you still getting excited every time a small box arrives home. But like your dad said, you can’t possibly go with her. “Maybe you should go with Miller, from across the street, remember him ?” Of course you do, even though your dad and him didn’t meet for a long time like they used to. You kind of miss the nights around the barbecue where they would both laugh their ass off together, but now this barbecue is black and grey with dust of burnt charcoal that hasn’t been cleaned in a while. You haven’t talked to Miller since the last time the three of you met for dinner. The only interaction you’d have with him now would only stop at a little wave from across the street and a “hey how you doing?” every once in a while when leaving the house. “I mean why not…” you think. “What’s his job? We haven’t talked in a long time, wasn’t he in a contracting job or something like that ?” Your plate empty, you get up and pick up your plate along with your dad’s and put them into the dishwasher. “ yeah… think he got some problems with his brother, and they were both fired for some reasons. Now I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s wearing black suits every morning when he leaves so maybe it’s a job interesting enough for you to work on it.” He sighs, like a dad sigh, and gets up from his chair, walking out of the room. “food was good honey” he smile. That same night, your dad left for work while you’re in front of Miller’s door. The lights are on inside, it’s dim and gives a comforting vibe to his house which is quite unexpected for a man as rough and difficult as Mr. Joel Miller. You knock on the hard wood of his door, kind of hesitant because why would you go see your neighbor for a homework based on your parents? You shake your head. Whatever, no one is going to know anyways. The door open in a quick swift with a sudden smell of crackling fire and…roasted potatoes and meat? “Hey Miller,” you greet looking into his eyes, brown and sleepy. “I’m sorry to bother you but I had a question quite important.” He smile and nod “whatcha want kiddo’?”. You forgot his seductive accent, a while back it wouldn’t have the same effects that it has on you right now. You’re still a little hesitant to ask, afraid to bother him this late and during dinner. “I have this homework I’m supposed to do on one of my parent’s job. I have to go with them for like a day and make a report, but my parents are too busy, and dad told me to ask you instead” “Well, I’d gladly help you but uh, it’s quite early in’a mornin” “That’s fine, I can get up early.” You smile at him “Well now that you’re here,” he looks back to his kitchen, then back at you. “I got spare dinner here, wanna eat here so we can talk about this a little and maybe if you want…crash here for the night? The job has flexible hours so if I get a call earlier, I need ya to be ready.” This was kind of unexpected, but you’re surprised, a good surprised. “I’m down but I didn’t take any clothes with me. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d agree with this.”
You laugh it off, kind of embarrassed and a bit flustered. “I’ll give you something to sleep in” he smiles.
Spending the night at his house, eating dinner with him. All these emotions, the butterflies in your stomach is all new. You never really thought about it, but hell Mr. Miller is kind of hot. You’ve always dated guys your age. Some were good and some others disappointing, but you never thought of dating someone older and especially not this old or anyone being your dad’s best friend. The forbidden love that is so slowly and so suddenly growing in you. Why now? Why him. You sit down at the end of the table. Joel’s in the kitchen preparing the food. He brings the plates to the table, and he sit at your left, close to you. And you were right, it was potatoes and meat, and it was quite good compared to what you thought Joel was capable of and it’s quite pleasing to be eating this good. After a while talking about your homework, how the day would most likely go and you daydreaming about how hot he is the more you look at him, he offers you to watch a movie before bed. You both sit down and start watching this movie called Curtis and Viper 2, you’d figure it’s his favorite since he can’t stop going “oh look here” or “I love this scene” every once in a while. After what feels like a hour, your eyes are slowly closing and before you realize, your head is on his shoulder. It was slowly falling with time, and by the look on his face he doesn’t seem to be too bothered about you getting so close to him. “Wake up sweetheart” his voice is calm. You lift your head to follow the sound of his voice “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that,” you say while standing up. “I think I’m gonna take a shower before bed.” You go upstairs and into the bathroom. It’s quite big and smells like colognes and 3 in 1 shampoo. You always feel weird taking a shower at other people’s house, scared someone might walk in so you cough loudly to let the whole house know someone’s in here. You take a big towel for your body, a small one for your face and hair and hang them both on the dryer to make them warm for when you get out. The water is hot and steamy, droplets hits your face like ashes from a fire and you’re hot but not just from the water. Your core keeps burning for him and it gets worst with time. You can’t stop thinking about him, His face, his body, his shirt showing every detail of his biceps, his veins going down his arm and hands, his calloused fingers from playing guitar touching you, feeling your body. Fuck. Too far. You rinse the soap off your body and step out of the shower. The light is dim and making you even more sleepy than you already are. You put on whatever moisturizer Joel has in his bathroom filled with man products, breaking your skincare for one night won’t affect your skin too much. Suddenly the door open. Maybe you should’ve fucking coughed instead of daydreaming like a teen. Joel stops, his mouth slightly open in an “o” shape.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry sweetheart I should’ve knocked first,” he turns his head around as you quickly grab your towel from the floor and wrap it around you. “ ‘forgot to give you clothes before you got in.” He hands you the clothes, his clothes, considering Sarah has left a long time ago. “It’s okay you can look, I’m covered.” You say shyly. He turns back to you and unconsciously look you up and down without saying a word. You take the stash from his hands. “Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute” you smile. You finish changing in his shirt, a too-big dark brown shirt with his name embroidered on the top right part, must be from his old job as a contractor. You figure you’d be better in your panties rather than the pants he gave you considering the weather and how warm it is in this house. You go back into the living room and start searching for a blanket to sleep in. Luckily one big enough to cover your body but not your feet is folded neatly in a drawer under the TV. “Whatcha doin?” Joel goes down the stairs. “Oh I’m just…getting my bed ready” “There’s no way you’re sleeping here,” he says, in a commanding tone “Sarah’s room is my gym now, so you’ll sleep in my bed.” You let out a muffled laugh “yeah like you’ll sleep on a damn couch with your broken back you old grandpa ?” He looks at you with a crooked smile, a little hurt since you called him a grandpa but your personality makes him smile. “Yeah well what do ya suggest smartass ?” You’re hesitant to even try to suggest it but hell if he doesn’t want you on the couch then you need to try other solutions no matter how embarrassing they can be. “Then let’s both sleep in your bed.” You both end up in his bed. It’s awkward, a lot, but at least it’s comfy. Joel is long fallen asleep while you twist and turn every few minutes trying so hard to sleep but something is keeping you awake, something deep down in your core. Joel turns and end up facing you, still sound asleep. You can’t help but look at him and all his features. His crooked nose, his wrinkles softer than when he’s awake. It makes you realize that he’s almost constantly frowning, giving him a mean gaze that could scare people that don’t know him personally. But here, now, he’s so soft and so different. Oh, and he’s shirtless. It’s distracting but you’re in panties, so it feels a bit more casual. His skin is slightly tanned, just the perfect kind of tanned at this time of the year, and it’s a good tan, a brown one not a tomato kind of tanned. Fuck, you need to sleep. You turn around trying not to think about him and finally sleep, when you suddenly feel something against you. Joel moved closer, and he’s now wrapping his arm around your waist. Your breath stops for a second. It’s probably just a reflex from his body but he’s so warm, a good warm even though it’s hot under the sheets but you don’t want to wake him up. The sensation in your core is growing, like an alien trying to come out of your stomach to eat you out. “Fuck you Miller” you whisper. You hear a phone buzz and it’s waking you up. Joel is still holding you but now he’s closer and you can feel something hard on your lower back. It makes you blush but no matter how hard you try, his arm is holding you tight and you can’t escape. “Joel,” you shake his arm slowly. You hear him grumble. “Your phone is ringing”.
“Shit” he finally wakes up and it takes a few seconds for him to realize the position he’s in, and the way his body reacted to yours. “I’m so sorry, I uh… I have no excuse” he jumps out of the bed and takes his phone. He takes the call and leave the room. You check the clock. 5 a.m., you throw yourself back into the bed. “a C might’ve been better than this” you spit. Joel comes back in the room after a few minutes. “Just got a call, some job for us in a city nearby, you should get dressed” he leaves the room once again.
You put on the same clothes as yesterday, a black tank top with black shorts and some converse. You thought maybe dressing all black just like Joel’s uniform would make you look a bit more professional.
“You look stunning” Joel says, entering the room in a full black costume. It’s neatly ironed, not a single wrinkle in sight.
“Looking good too, Miller,” you walk towards him and tighten his tie a bit more.
He smiles “thanks angel”. Dammit, can’t he stop with the pet names, he’s going to make you blush.
“So, where are we going?” you tie your shoe laces in a tight ribbon
“I told ya’, a city a few minutes away from here. We’re taking my truck.”
You already took a trip in Joel’s truck when you were younger, but it was different, your dad was here to do the conversation and make things less embarrassing but now it’s a whole different situation. You still don’t know what to do with your feelings, should you tell him on the road? during the job? you can’t think straight with the small time of sleep you had.
You both hop into his truck; the weather is still quite hot for an early morning.
“How much time till we get there?” you buckle up and look at your phone.
“We got 20 minutes, you can put on some music if you want”
You connect your phone and put on some Arctic Monkeys on. You’re still debating if you should try to make a move on Joel because honestly, you’re starting to miss getting laid, and trying it out with an older guy would be fun.
But the fact that Miller is your dad’s friend makes it weird. Would he get along with it? Or would he just stop you the moment you put your lips on his?
Giving it a try won’t hurt considering you barely see him anyways so avoiding him won’t be too hard. Just no waving and no “Hi Mr. Miller” from across the street.
After like 5 minutes, Joel finally talks.
“Are you seeing anyone? Some guy from your school?” He lowers the volume of your music.
“No, why?” Here. Make a move. “Would you be jealous if I was?” you open the drawer in front of you and search for some candy, every sane people has some sweets in their car. You find a lollipop and unwrap it.
“ ‘twas just a question” he says as you put the lollipop in your mouth and lay your feet on the dashboard. He side eyes you and sigh.
“Well, no, no one’s interesting enough, I guess. Everyone is so focused on school; I haven’t seen a single person kiss another in the corridors or in some empty classes.”
You lick at your lollipop as you make eye contact with him. “Guess I should try older.” You smirk.
You see him adjust in his seat and taking a deep breath. He turns the volume back on to the song.
“How many secrets can you keep ?
‘Cause there’s this tune I found
That makes me think of you
somehow”
This song couldn’t be even more on point than now.
“What about you,” you ask, “You seeing anyone?”
“Not really, not really searchin’ for sum’ serious right now” he leans on the edge of his window, putting his hand into a fist to cover his mouth, he fidgets.
“So like… you just want sex?”
He chokes on his own saliva and coughs “What the fuck are you on about? Jesus “he spits “I mean, maybe, but I’m not actively searching or anythin’” 
“You got any age preference?” You take a chance.
“Uh…No, not really” You turn to him, making your belt a bit longer so you can get comfortable.
“Would you fuck me?” You lick on your lollipop; it has become a small pink ball now with all the sucking and licking.
“Jesus girl, you’re my best friend’s daughter” he doesn’t even seem angry or annoyed at the question somehow.
“You didn’t say no though” you smile.
“Doesn’t mean I agree.”
“Okay but, imagine if I wasn’t, would you?” he keeps looking at your lips while you talk.
“You gotta learn how to walk before learning how to run, sweetheart”
“What if I wanna run though?” You say as his grip tightens on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.
You both arrive at a hotel Joel’s company booked before you two arrived. It’s a nice place, a 5 stars hotel. He must stay at the same hotel as the person he has to protect, obviously.
“They booked us…well, me, a single bedroom since it wasn’t really planned for you to come, so we’ll have to share a bed” Joel say
“Again” you smirk. He’s probably already annoyed by you, but he still hasn’t complain, you just assume.
“Come” her orders you, you follow him to the room.
It’s quite big, it has a double bed with dark burgundy sheets and pillows, a big shower along the right side of the room that is basically the size of a whole bathroom, there’s two showerheads and the walls are transparent, so yes, a few meters long shower. What for? No idea.
The toilets are on the other side of the room along with a double sink and a huge light up mirror and fancy soaps you will definitely steal. There’s windows and a balcony in the between with a fancy view on the city.
“We’re gonna have to sleep here tonight if that’s okay with ya’, we might come back home late, and the room is free so we should enjoy instead of going home.”
two nights in a row in the same bed as Joel wasn’t something you’ve planned but you’re not mad about it, to be honest. As long as your assignment is complete…hopefully.
“We got an hour before we have to leave,” he put his bag to the side of the bed. “You can sleep a bit if you want, try to take back the hours of sleep you lost.”
Wait? is he aware that you were awake? Did he grab you on purpose? There’s no way.
“I’m not really tired anymore,” you sit on the bed in front of Joel as he unbuttons his suit jacket. You look up at him and bite your lips. You’re praying inside that he doesn’t reject you, that he follows your movements.
“Well, ion’ know what else you could do besides wait here like a behaved girl” Fuck, was this intentional? If not, it still turned you on.
You have no idea what to do right now, unbuckle his belt, suck him off? Or tease him?
Tease him.
You stand up and start walking towards the huge transparent walls shower, taking off your clothes on the way. Once arrived in the shower, you stand under the showerhead, open the water hose, and turn around searching for Joel.
He’s looking at you with black eyes, devouring you with his hands on his hips.
“Fuck” he spits.
He hurries to unbutton his shirt and take his fancy well ironed pants off along with his boxer.
Oh.My.God.
Your heart has never raced this fast in your life. He’s so big and he’s not even hard yet, you wonder how you never notice it before.
He gets into the shower and stand right in front of you under the shower, the water dripping down his hair and the tip of his nose.
“I don’t know what the fuck ya’ want from me, but you’re tempting me you fucking tease” His word travel down your spine and reaches your core.
His hands slide down your side, reaching your panty line.
“You have an hour to choose if you want to have fun or if you wanna go get a snack and get ready to write your lil’ presentation about me” his face gets closer to yours as your back arches.
“What if I want you to be my snack?” You say, slightly touching the tip of his cock growing bigger the more he looks at you.
He takes your wrists and pin them above your head and hold them up with one of his hands as the other grip one of your breasts. His fingertips are slightly twisting your nipple as he brings his lips to yours, indulging in a dirty, filthy kiss being washed away by the water running down.
Your hand grabs his shaft, stroking it slowly. “You’re so dam’ teasing’, if your father finds out I’m making out with his daughter, I’m a dead man” he growls as your hand twist slightly when reaching the tip of his cock
“We can keep it secret.” You smirk
“You wanna be my dirty little secret, huh?”
You hear a phone ringing on the bed, but Joel turns your head back to him. “Leave it, they’ll call back.”
After a session of teasing and kissing in the too-big shower, the both of you come out of it all wet and steamy. Joel picks up a towel and wrap it around you. He takes another one, smaller, and dries your hair with it. He is so gentle even though you’ve been closed to him for a few hours only, the day before he would only see you as the daughter of your best friend that lives across the street, nothing more.
Joel walks to the bed and pick up his phone, his towel around his hips.
“Fuck!” He screams. “Boss called, the woman I was supposed to work for left earlier, we should’ve been gone by now” He put his clothes back on, muttering shit shit shit while doing so.
A black car with tinted windows comes out of the underground garage of the hotel and stops right in front of you.
“You’re in fucking trouble Miller” The driver guy said. He is big, his black vest almost merging into one with his muscles.
Joel opens the door for you and almost pushes you in.
“We’re ten minutes away from her, you better get yourself ready M” he says, hitting the gas.
 You feel something on your thigh, crawling all the way from your knee to the base of your leg, Joel’s warm hands are touching you, slowly going towards your inner thigh.
“What are you doing?” you whisper. He gets closer to your ear while his hand finally touches your clit through your panties.
“You got me in trouble, made me lose my mind just so I could touch you,” He pulls your panties to the side and slide two fingers through your slit, wetting them just before entering your core with thick digits.
You struggle to keep your pleasure to yourself as a few squeals comes out of your mouth. The car is going fast, the sound of the engine covering whatever filthy sounds you make.
His other hand is reaching for the neckline of your top, his finger slightly pulls on it to have a quick peek of your breasts. You keep panting, his finger crooked into you, reaching that soft spongy spot that makes you shiver if it’s played with a little too much.
“ ‘Atta girl” he say, your heart pounding harder, getting closer to your climax and then…
He stops. Fuck
Your walls are clenching around nothing, it’s demanding for more, something bigger. It’s only waiting for him, but how much longer can you hold it?
The car pulls up to a fancy restaurant with a forest green and gold storefront. You see a few paparazzi outside taking pictures from afar, probably of the girl inside.
The driver gets out of the car and pull out his phone, calling to get orders.
“Take them off” Joel says looking at you, then your hips
“What…My panties?” you frown.
“Yeah” He smirk, and he’s so damn hot when he does.
You take your shorts off along with your panties. They’re black with some floral lace at the top, hot but still comfortable and covering.
Joel takes it in his hands and makes a small ball of fabric out of it and put it in the back pocket of his jeans. “Mine” he whispers, kissing you one last time before getting out of the car, holding out his hand for you to follow him.
“We have to secure the perimeter and make sure none of this fuckers get in” the big guy say as you take out your notebook and a pen from your backpack and start taking notes: how things start, Joel’s role, his coworkers, and other thing you couldn’t care less about because right now your mind is focused on Joel and not his work, more like the stuff in his pants.
You follow Joel inside the restaurant as he gives his name to the front desk. He sits you at a table near the outside window.
 “Sit here so I can keep an eye on ya’ from outside, take your notes here…look at me and scribble whatever you needa scribble,” he gently caresses your hair as you look up to him “Order anything ya’ want, it’s on me sweetheart” he kisses your forehead and rushes outside, seating at an outside table as a server brings him a cup of coffee. He looks so damn professional for a man who has finger fucking you just a few minutes ago while on your side, you can’t stop thinking about him, your inner thigh still dripping wet.
You order the breakfast menu with some fancy beacon and eggs with toast that cost way too much for little to no change compared to the ones you make at home.
The lady Miller and his big friend are supposed to watch is not far away from you, she’s really pretty, you actually don’t know who she is but considering her style she might be a model, or an actor…or a singer?
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, you see a number pulling up with a text.
Unknown Number: Still wet baby ?
You: Joel ??? howd u get my number?????
You save his number into your contacts.
Joel: Your dad just gave it to me, in case
You put your phone back on the table and keep writing stuff on your notebook, adding more details to the things you’ve already summed up earlier.
Your phone buzzes again.
Joel:  what you writing ?
You:  Shouldn’t u be watching that girl instead of me ?
Joel: yeah but I’d rather focus on you and ur bare pussy
You: omg shut up and do your work so I can have an A+
After a full day of running around town following that lady no matter where she’d go; Louis Vuitton, Prada, a random grocery store for some Redbull. All this while Joel and the big guy were watching her along with a few paparazzi they had to push away. You? You were standing behind Joel the whole time, trying not to be a menace to his job like this morning. All this time of walking around in no panties with only your shorts for cover, you finally go back to your hotel room, exhausted.
“Fuck it I’m so damn tired” You pant after walking up to your room.
Joel comes from behind, throwing your bag away and grabs you from behind, nestling his nose in your neck.
“You too exhausted to get taken care of angel?” you feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin. “Maybe I have a little energy to play a bit” you smile too.
He spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours, taking your breath away in a second. He starts undoing your shorts, freeing your cunt for good. He immediately slides his hand down to feel the wetness between your legs.
“You’re so damn wet, is it all because a’me baby?” he says, close to your ear.
“You made me wait all day long,” you say, “don’t act so surprised.”
“Stop being such a brat, honey, I’m gonna take good care of you, like no one did before.”
 And you know he doesn’t lie, just this morning in the shower and in the car, he treated you way better than any man did before, not that Miller is so damn special but the boys you were with were mostly unexperienced or scared, now at least he knows where your clit and your G spot is.
You’d never thought you’d do this with a person way older than you but now that you think about it, it should’ve been on your bucket list for a while.
He starts kissing you, again and again, not letting a single air particle get through your mouth as he pushes you until the back of your knees touches the table behind you. He grabs your waist, lift you up and sits you on it.
He quickly parts your legs to make space for him as you start to unbutton his plain white shirt.
“You’re so damn hot in that costume Mr. Miller,” you say as he growls for an answer “too bad we need to take it off.”
His bulge is growing bigger with time, his tip pushing onto the zipper. You’re still amazed by how big it is, even though it hurts sometimes it can be exciting.
He finally unzips his pants and take his boxer away while you take your shirt off in a hurry. His cock is throbbing, touching in between your legs almost like its attracted to you like a magnet.
The horniness is high today, the both of you couldn’t stop looking at each other. Him scanning your body up and down when you walk, devouring you with his eyes.
“I hope you touch yourself thinkin’ ‘bout me after that” and he’s right, you might. Touching yourself surely isn’t as good as Joel touching you, or even fucking with him which you’re going to find out, but maybe thinking of him would make it better.
Excitement is pooling in your core, and it’s about to overflow. Your body is heating up as Joel rub himself against your folds, spreading your fluids all over his shaft. Your hips can’t stop moving back and forth almost begging for him to finally get in, to fill you, possess you.
“Please, Joel, please just fuck me already” you keep begging for him.
A slight laugh comes out of his mouth as he finally pushes in and fuck, he’s so big, bigger than you thought it would be inside of you but it’s just perfect. He stretches you just right, almost like he belonged to you, and you belonged to him like a key belongs to one single door.
He starts pushing in, slowly, but your body decided otherwise and started pushing in even more.
“Hey honey, relax,” he takes back the inches you took from him “I wanna go slow, don’t wanna hurt my girl” The stretch did hurt a little bit but it’s like your pussy needs more.
His hips are going back and forth slowly but it still makes you moan, his thick shaft stimulating your inside just right.
“Just like that, baby.” He wet his lips. Your hand goes down and rubs your clit, following his pace.
“That’s it girl, keep touching yourself like that,” he rasps. His head falls back as he feels you tighten around him. “I love seeing you touch yourself like that baby”.
His hips start to trust faster and deeper, rubbing on your g-spot making you shiver after a few times with your hand stimulating you.
Your nails keep digging into his back, and it hurts him. You know because he keeps frowning. “Fuck baby your nails are sharp as fuck” Getting long black Stiletto nails was a bad idea.
He crashes his lips onto yours as he suddenly lifts you up in his arms, his cock still in you.
“Imma make you pay for those marks” He says as he look in the mirror behind him giving a full view on the mark you imprinted on him.
He throws you onto the bed, making your walls suddenly clench around nothing. You see him grab his tie he left on the bed earlier and brings it around your wrists.
“Oh -- so your form of punishment is to tie me up, huh?” you smile.
“Uh huh” he nods.
He makes a tight knot; you know for sure it’s going to leave marks on your wrists…that’s his way of making you pay for his.
He throws your arms over your head, one of his hands holding you down. Your unable to move, unable to feel his body with your hands, this is the worst punishment you could think of for your first time knowing you probably won’t see each other for a while once you go back home, unless you hide, all this until maybe this goes further and one day you reveal to your dad that you’re fucking his best friend for a while. Damn it, you shouldn’t be thinking about this, right now you should focus on Miller and enjoy the night while it last.
He keeps fucking you deep and rough, your hand still tied up firmly. He pounds into you, changing his pace from time to time until you’re on the edge of cumming, finally.
“Joel please, I’m so close” your brows furrow, your head is spinning with excitement, and it get worse the closer to your climax you get.
“Cum for me baby, I’ll cum after you do” Looks like he put women first, he’s a gentleman.
After more moans, and more trusting, you finally come, your juices spreading all over him.
“Atta’ girl, good job” he praises you, and fuck he’s doing it well. He finally comes too, emptying out on your belly.
“Fuck Joel, I love you”
You didn’t mean to say that – but maybe you do, kind of. Good thing he doesn’t seem to have noticed as he kisses your forehead, gets up and walk to the opened shower. He comes back holding a small towel that he submerged in warm water. “There, baby” he says while cleaning your tummy.
After a whole night fucking with Joel multiple times and discovering more things about your body, and new positions, you finally go back home. Your essay is done and hopefully going through all this will get you an A+.
You’re on your couch with your dad, talking about how your day went while watching TV, obviously skipping the whole fucking your best friend part, when the broadcast is showing pictures of the woman Joel had to cover yesterday.
“Oh, look that’s her !” You say, excited. “That’s the woman we were with yesterday, didn’t talk to her, she seemed nice even though she’s a celebrity and they’re often viewed as self-centered and unaware but she-“
Your dad pauses the TV and looks at you with wide eyes, cutting you off. You look at the image on the wide flat screen and see you and Joel kissing in 4K HD right in front of your dad, furious. Your heart skips a beat, or multiple.
“You got some explaining to do, young girl.”
<3 Hr43s
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headkiss · 1 year
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not just on christmas
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve’s parents are coming home for the holidays and he’s in need of a fake date. who better than you, his best friend?
word count: 8.2k
warnings: steve’s parents (derogatory), negative comments about his job, fake dating, friends to lovers, christmas themes, fluff, first kiss!
a/n: i had lots of fun with this one and i hope u guys like it!!! merry christmas and happy holidays i hope they treat u all well <33 consider this my gift to you :D
The phone ringing forces Steve out of bed. Floors cool on his feet, the air a chill on his bare chest, he rubs his eyes lazily and picks it up.
“Hello?” He clears his throat to get rid of the sleep in his voice.
“Steve, why do you sound tired, it’s nearly noon!”
It’s no surprise that the first words aren’t asking him how he is. He’s shocked she cared enough to pick up on the tone of his voice at all. “Hi, mom.”
He doesn’t even know where she’s calling from, doesn’t know what business trip they're on. He can’t remember the last time he got a phone call that wasn’t you, or Robin, or Dustin, or anyone else other than his parents.
Steve’s not even excited to be hearing from them, because it’s a reminder that they’re not around, that they haven’t forgotten about him, they just don’t care.
He wishes you were the one that called.
“Listen, sweetie, your dad and I are coming home for Christmas this year, isn’t that great?”
He deflates, “yeah. Super.”
“There’s a business event he wants to take you to. And we’ll find you a date,” there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. “You can make some connections, maybe get out of your job at that video store soon.”
The thing is, he actually likes working at Family Video, but he knows that doesn’t matter. Then there’s the topic of the girlfriend, or lack thereof. His parents are always nagging him about when he’ll settle down, grow roots, or something.
Maybe that’s why he says, “I can get my own date. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh! That’s fantastic! She’ll have dinner with us, won’t she? What’s her name?”
Like an idiot, he says your name. The first one that came to his mind.
You’re his best friend, and it’s easy to let his thoughts drift to you. The problem is, he has no idea how he’s going to explain this to you, how he can ask you to fake date him just to satisfy his parents for once.
If he wasn’t still on the phone, Steve would be groaning into a pillow right now.
“Okay, sweetie, your dad has a brunch we have to get to. We’ll see you soon!”
“Bye, mom. See you.”
He hangs up and sighs in relief. That feeling is quick to fade when he remembers that he had just named you his girlfriend in the midst of his phone call. He drops his face into his hands, runs them through his hair, and tries to figure out how the hell to bring up the subject with you.
To go along with that, he has to worry about his parents coming home. Though, can they really call it ‘home’ when they’ve been gone for so long? When they’ll leave again after a few days, a week at most?
Most people would be happy, excited, about their parents being around for the holidays. Steve’s not. He’d rather spend it how he has since the two of you became friends. Breakfast at your house with your family—who have become family for Steve, too—presents opened with scented candles burning and Christmas albums spun on the record player.
You went out of your way to include him, and he’s never felt so welcome in his life as he does when he’s with you.
At least, if you agree, you’ll be with him this year, too.
-
It’s the next day when Steve decides to bring it up. You’re at his house for movie night, which has become a weekly ritual for the two of you. He’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say since he hung up the damn phone. He’s given up and instead hopes it’ll come to him in the moment.
Today, Steve’s quiet, which is unlike him. You know something’s on his mind and you try to avoid asking him about it, trying to let him talk about it on his own time. It’s about halfway through the movie that you change your mind.
He didn’t complain when you showed up with your cheesy Christmas movie choice, he didn’t light-heartedly tease you about your outfit of choice (some festive patterned pajama pants and a sweater that’s so worn there are holes in the neckline), and the most unusual, he didn’t make a single joke or comment as the movie played.
He’s really, really quiet.
You pick up the remote and pause it, “what’s going on with you, Steve?”
He looks at you, catches your eye and sees nothing but genuine concern. Sometimes he hates the way you know him so well. He can never hide anything from you.
“What? Nothing.”
You blink at him, “come on.”
“Fine, okay. Just, don’t say anything until I’m done, please.”
“Okay,” you pretend to zip your mouth shut, ready to listen.
“My mom called yesterday and told me they’re coming home for Christmas, and that there’s this business thing they want me to go to, and that I need a date for it,” he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And you know how they’re always on my ass about me being single and stuff so I kind of told her I already had a girlfriend, and maybe I told her that girlfriend is you.”
What?
There’s a lot to process there. Mostly the fact that out of all of the names he could have chosen, he said yours. You wait for him to explain some more, but he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for a reply, so, your mouth is now unzipped.
“So, what exactly does that mean?”
He mutters a curse under his breath. “Um, so, I need you to pretend to be my actual girlfriend while they’re here.”
His use of the word ‘need’ is telling. Steve’s not one to ask for help, not even when he needs it the most but here he is, nervous and a little pink-cheeked, asking for your help.
You let the thought sit in your head for a bit. It’s not hard for you to want to agree. Steve’s your best friend, and you’d do pretty much anything for him. Though, that might also have to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with him for years.
You know more about his relationship with his parents then most do, so if you can make their visit more bearable for him in any way, why wouldn’t you?
“Okay,” you say.
“Okay? Like, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m happy to help.”
That was a lot easier than Steve thought it’d be. You barely even questioned him before agreeing, and that’s not lost on him.
“Thank you so much, seriously,” he throws his arm over your shoulders, squeezes you to him in a side hug. “It’s only a few days, then we can go back to normal.”
“Easy peasy,” you say, reaching for the remote and hitting play.
Aside from your wanting to help him, to be there for him like you know he would for you, you’re also curious to see what it’s like to be with Steve that way, even if it’s fake. It’s hopeless, the way you love him, like the moon orbiting the earth around and around. Constant.
Sure, those feelings will probably only swell because of the fake relationship, but you’ve been housing them for long enough anyway.
What could go wrong?
-
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Robin says from the other side of a clothing rack, sifting through the pieces.
She’s the first, and only, person you told about the fake dating thing. Naturally, she decided she’d help you shop for a dress to wear to this business thing and talk about it at the same time.
The mall is decorated, garlands and lights strung, a big Christmas tree lit up in the middle of it all.
“It’s only a couple of days. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m talking about you being in love with him,” she deadpans.
“Robin, not so loud.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
You know she’s being honest, and though the thought has been at the back of your mind, a whisper, you’d like to believe that you can handle a fake relationship without ruining things because of your big, big feelings.
“I spend time with him alone a bunch. It’s not that much different, okay?”
“Besides the fact that you’ll be calling him boyfriend and acting like it, too, you mean.”
Actually, you’ve been trying not to think about what exactly pretending to be his girlfriend entails. You don’t know if he’ll hold your hand, if he’ll hold you closer than he has before, if he’ll kiss you. You think it might be better to wait and see, to not let the possibilities eat at you.
“I know it sounds bad, but it’s Steve. Nothing major will happen. We’re friends and I’m helping him out.”
Robin’s in a tricky spot. She knows how you feel about Steve, obviously, and though he doesn’t see it yet himself, she knows that Steve feels the same, too. It’s taken a lot to hold herself back from speeding things along, and as much as she wishes this fake relationship plan might be a good push, things usually aren’t so easy.
She can also tell that there’s a lot you’re thinking but not saying, but instead of pushing it, she returns to looking at the dresses. It’s not long before she gasps, pulling one of the rack to show you.
“This one,” she says.
“I don’t know. That won’t look good on me.”
It’s pretty, though. You’ll give her that.
“Shut up, everything looks good on you. Will you at least try it on?” She wiggles the hanger in her hand, “for me?”
“Fine.”
You take it from her, walking back towards the fitting rooms with a grinning Robin in tow. She waits outside the door while you change into the dress.
Once it’s on, looking in the mirror, you don’t even know what to think. You’re not one to feel all that confident in what you wear, or in how you look, but this dress makes you feel pretty. Maybe you should make Robin pick out all of your clothes.
“Let me see!” Robin calls.
You step out of the changeroom, doing a shy little spin when she asks. She’s smiling proudly, like she knows she chose well (which she did). She can’t help but think of how Steve will react, because she knows he feels something for you, she can see it on his face everytime he talks about you. He’s just a dork and he doesn’t realize it. Not yet, at least.
“What do you think?” You ask.
“If Steve’s not already in love with you…”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
If she does, your brain will conjure up way too many ideas of what could possibly happen. If Steve could really feel the same. If maybe he’ll feel those same butterflies in his stomach that you do, if his heart feels bigger when you’re around. In your dreams, he does.
“I’m trying to tell you you look hot!”
-
December twenty-third is the day that Steve’s parents come home as well as the night of the business event. You and Steve have tried to figure out how to act like a couple, quizzing each other on things you already know, setting loose boundaries, but you figure after knowing each other for so long, being so close, it won’t feel much different than now. Besides the extra touching, the possibility of kissing.
You’re already at his house when his parents get home, your makeup and outfit for tonight sitting in Steve’s room. The two of you linger near the front door waiting for their arrival, a nervous and jittery welcoming committee.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway grabs your attention. It’s a clapperboard snapping shut, marking the scene. Action.
“You ready, babe?” He holds out his arm for you to grab, and you do.
“Time to be the best couple ever,” you reply.
Steve grins at you. He has no idea how to thank you for agreeing to do this, how to even explain to you the relief you’re sure to bring. It’s one less thing for his parents to pick and pry at.
The door opens, and you can already feel a change in Steve’s demeanor. He’s standing straighter, stiffer. You squeeze his arm, a reminder that you’re there.
“Steve, sweetie!” His mother barely greets him before moving onto you, “and this is your girlfriend?”
“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.”
If it were someone else’s mother, you’d be hit with the usual ‘oh please, call me (insert name here).’ However, where the Harringtons are concerned, formality is a must. Besides Steve, of course. From what you know, the apple had fallen very, very far from the tree and you mean that as a compliment.
Even after being friends for so many years, this is the first time you’re actually meeting Steve’s parents. It’s clear that he’s never jumped at the opportunity to have his friends around when they’re home. He’s told you about them, and that’s enough for you.
“Steve! Come help me with the bags, would you?” His dad calls from outside, though he says it as a demand rather than a question.
“Yep, coming,” he replies. He kisses the side of your head before going outside, quick and sure, like he’s done it hundreds of times.
“How was your trip, Mrs. Harrington?” You fill the silence.
“Oh, just lovely, thank you,” she moves to the kitchen, expecting you to follow. “The house looks clean. Do you have something to do with that?”
Despite her trying to sound like she’s joking, you know that she truly doesn’t believe that Steve could be the one keeping the place going. As if he hasn’t been doing just that for ages.
“No, no. It’s really Steve.”
Her eyebrows raise, surprised.
Steve and his father walk in before anything else is said—thank God. You shake hands with Mr. Harrington, saying hello and wearing a tight smile. Steve’s quick to come to your side, an arm over your shoulders like a shield. Your hand moves to hold the one resting on your shoulder.
He’s even more tense when his father’s in the room, you’ve noticed. You hold his hand a bit tighter. You wish you could do something to make him feel better, and you hope that this fake relationship will do that at least a little bit.
Meanwhile Steve’s wondering how your presence could make him feel much better than he usually does with his parents around. You’re a comfort beside him, and when he gets the chance, he kisses your head again, whispering a ‘thank you’ into your hair.
-
The first few hours with Steve’s parents go by dreadfully slow, even with his touch on you most of the time. You’re quickly learning that as a boyfriend—even fake—Steve’s love language is easily physical touch. He has an arm around you, a hand in yours, on your leg, anything.
You’re also learning just how strained his relationship with his parents is. He’d trusted you enough to tell you most of it, but seeing them interact in front of you was different. The backhanded comments, the faces whenever he mentions his job, it makes your heart ache for him.
It’s bad enough that his parents are hardly ever around, but having them act like this when they are? You’re amazed at how good Steve has remained through it all.
When it’s time to get ready for the business party, you’re thankful for the reprieve.
“Think we’re doing a good job?” You ask Steve as he shuts the door to his room.
“They seem to be buying it. Thanks again for doing this.”
“You’ve thanked me like a hundred times, Steve. It’s okay, really.”
You want to tell him that you’re sorry these are the people he has to call family. That he shouldn’t listen to any of the shit they give him about his job or his lack of post-secondary education. That he’s the best boy you’ve ever known.
The problem is, you don’t know how to say all of that without making your feelings for him painfully obvious.
“Just gotta keep it up ‘til Christmas. That’s when they leave.”
“They’re only here for two days?” You knew the trip was going to be short, but forty-eight hours?
“Yeah, something about getting a deal on a cruise. I don’t know.”
He says it so casually, like it’s normal. You guess that for him, it is, but it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.
“Does that mean you’ll come to mine for Christmas day? Like usual?” You ask, hopefully lightening the mood.
“If you’ll have me.”
“Shut up, you’re always welcome. Think my mom likes you more than me anyway,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, then move to bring your stuff into his bathroom to start getting ready.
He leans on the doorframe, watching you set your makeup out on the counter, “she does not.”
“Steve, you have your own stocking hanging on our fireplace. And it’s bigger than mine.”
He smiles genuinely then, the first one since his parents have arrived.
He leaves you to get ready, shutting the bathroom door for when you change. You can still hear him through the door. The opening and closing of his drawers, a curse when he stubs his toe.
So far, pretending to be with Steve has been easy. You’ve acted the same save for the touches or small pecks he’s decided to keep placing on your head or your cheeks. The story you settled on was simple: you met him picking up a movie at Family Video, he asked if you needed company to watch it, the rest is history, blah blah blah.
Steve knocks on the bathroom door when you’re pretty much ready, you glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before opening it.
He stands with his tie in hand, wearing a button up and dress pants. You assume there’s a suit jacket to go along with it, and you think it might kill you. He’s so pretty, and he looks it all of the time but seeing him dressed up is really something.
“You look good, Steve,” you say. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Thanks. You look- you too.”
Steve’s stunned. He realizes he’s never seen you in anything formal and it’s making him feel all fluttery in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s always known you’re gorgeous, in an obvious way like how the sky is blue. Now, though, it’s like he can feel it.
He clears his throat quietly and remembers the reason he knocked in the first place, “you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you?”
You’re thankful for the time you decided to learn how when you were bored one day. You take the fabric from his hands, “it’s your lucky day, Steve.”
“Thank you. Didn’t wanna have to go ask my dad.”
He’s almost shy about wanting your help over something so small, his cheeks a little pink, his head bent. You give him a reassuring smile—or what you hope is one—and place the tie around his neck.
His eyes are on you as your hands fiddle with the fabric, doing it up for him. Your eyebrows are slightly scrunched, and he wants to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. He’s not used to having that urge.
You finish up successfully after having fumbled a little bit, adjusting the tie so it isn’t crooked.
“There you go,” you pat his chest and he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat, the way it’s quicker than normal.
He has no idea what that’s about.
“Thanks.”
“‘Course.”
He’s still standing close to you, enough that he has to keep his head tilted downwards just a little to be able to look at your face. Your eyes lock onto his, and time seems to slow. You’re so gone for him and you know it, but it almost seems like maybe he’s feeling something too. Just for a moment.
His father calling out that it’s time to go snaps you out of it.
Steve grabs his jacket, shrugging it on then offering you his hand to hold, “let’s do this, girlfriend.”
-
The hall is oozing Christmas when you walk in, Steve’s hand in yours. Ornaments hang down from the ceiling, warm white string lights line the top of the walls, Christmas music hums through the speakers, and an extravagant Christmas tree sits in the middle of the room.
You’ve never been to an event like it, and you have a hard time keeping your nerves at bay.
Pretending in front of Steve’s parents alone was one thing. Now, the stakes are higher. You have to be convincing and though it’s not difficult for you to pretend to be in love with Steve (you don’t have to fake that at all), you worry that you’ll slip up somehow and give yourself away. Both in the sense that the relationship is fake, and that your feelings are anything but.
It’s not long before Steve’s father gets pulled into a conversation, and his mother goes along with him. You’re left standing near the doorway with Steve, biting at the inside of your cheek.
“Relax,” he leans his head close to yours and whispers.
“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“We’re fine. You’re fine,” he squeezes your hand, something that’s quickly become a wordless reassurance between you. “We’ve done good so far, right?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Except for the fact that I love you and that you being a really good fake boyfriend isn’t helping.
“Okay.”
He smiles and leads you further into the room. The smile he gives you is different from the one he gives the people that say hi to him, the people that stop him for a chat. For you, it’s honest. For them, it doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t mean anything.
“About time you tied someone down, Steve,” a man says to him. A coworker of his father’s, just like most men in the room.
“Think she’s the one who got me, but yeah.”
“That’s sweet. Next step is to get you a stable job, huh?”
It seems like all anyone here is concerned about is what people do, who they know. It’s no fun for you and they aren’t even speaking to you directly most of the time.
“Sure. Good to see you,” Steve excuses the both of you from the conversation.
“These people suck,” you say to him, leading him to the bar set up in a corner.
“Tell me about it.”
You order water for the both of you, something to get rid of the dryness in your throat and occupy you for a bit. You drink quietly before Steve speaks up.
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
He doesn’t know why it slips out now, but it does. The thought has been on his mind since he saw you standing there in his bathroom, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore.
“You don’t have to say that, Steve. Nobody’s listening.”
“I mean it, seriously.”
“Oh,” you look down at your glass, at the condensation running down the side. The corners of your mouth lift, “thank you.”
“I know this isn’t the most fun, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admits. He’s always been sweet to you, but this feels different. You don’t know how or why, but it does.
“I am too.”
Steve’s dad interrupts your moment, pulling Steve off to meet some people. Already, there’s a guard being put up by him, a shield he saves for his father.
For those few minutes, where it was just you and Steve, you realized that he’s probably the best date you’ve ever had. He pays attention to you, he’s comforting without even trying, and he compliments you with so much honesty you could melt.
He’s the best date you’ve ever had and it’s fake. It’s becoming a mantra repeated in your head; it’s not real, it’s not real.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice the boy who’s sat next to you now.
“I’ve never seen you before,” he says.
“I’m not usually at these things. I came with my boyfriend,” you tell him, unsettled by his stare.
“And where is this boyfriend now?”
“He’s out there. I just needed some water but he’ll come back soon.”
You’re trying to get him to go away, to take the hint. He won’t.
“Why don’t I keep you company in the meantime?”
You’re about to reply when someone else does it for you, “not necessary. She’s my girl.”
My girl. Steve. He stands behind you, wraps his arms around your waist. It’s like he knew you needed him then, showing up as soon as you felt like you wanted to search for him. He runs his hands over your sides, a possessive touch that has your skin tingling.
“My bad, man. Thought she was lying about the boyfriend,” the guy says.
“She wasn’t. Even if she was, maybe you should learn to tell when someone isn’t interested, yeah?”
The stranger nods and walks off.
You spin in Steve’s hold, facing him. “My hero.”
“You know me,” he shrugs.
What he doesn’t say is that seeing another guy talk to you made his gut churn, bringing something that he didn’t want to admit was jealousy. He also saw the look on your face, the discomfort, and felt his feet carry him over before his mind could think it first.
His hands are still on your waist, even with the stranger gone.
-
It’s not until Steve’s parents are ready that you leave. They’ve taken advantage of the champagne that sat on trays, free for the taking, as well as the opportunity to talk up their son to many, many people. It seems they’re only proud of him when there’s other people around, and even then, the praise doesn’t hold much weight.
He’s trying his best. At least he’s working. He’s got a girlfriend now. No, he doesn’t host backyard parties while we’re gone anymore.
You wish you could speak up, but you know, with this many people around, it’d cause more harm than good. It’s hard to listen to the people that raised Steve talk about him the way they do. You want so badly to shout in their faces how brilliant he is, no thanks to them. How he has the kindest soul and a sort of midas touch that makes everything shine.
At least, you think he does. You promise yourself to love him better than they ever did, even if it’s in secret.
One memory from the night overpowers the rest, luckily. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played, a slower rendition, and a slow dance ensued. You watched couples split off, and when you looked at Steve, he was already looking at you, a question on his face and a hand outstretched.
You fell into step with him quickly. It wasn’t awkward for a second. One of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, his on your waist. You swayed together, unknowingly moving closer until you were close enough to rest your head on his chest. And you did.
He rested his head atop of yours and hummed the song softly. You’ll dream about that dance, probably.
Now, you sit in the car with Steve, who’s become the driver. He drops his parents off at his house first, leaving the two of you alone for the drive to yours. He sneaks glances at you at stop signs and red lights, turning back to the road when he thinks he’s been caught.
His mind is full because he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. He sees parts of you that he was blind to before. The shape of your lips, for example. The dip of your spine and the way it feels to hold you. It’s dizzying and warm, confusing and sparkling all at once.
Once he’s pulled up to your house, he offers to walk you to the door. Ever the gentleman. A romantic no matter how much he denies it, you think. He gets misty-eyed when you watch rom-coms, opens doors for you, has bought flowers for nearly all of his dates, as far as you know.
What must it be like to receive flowers from Steve Harrington?
He faces you on your front porch, hands in his pockets, “thank you again for doing this.”
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay. I’m happy to help you, Steve. You’re my best friend.” Who I love more than anyone.
“You’re mine, too, honey.”
It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Turns out, it was his default to use in your fake relationship. It is, however, the first time he’s said it when it’s just the two of you. It sounds sweet coming from his lips, sticky. Just like honey itself.
“What time should I be over for dinner tomorrow?” You ask. It’s the last hurdle of the fake dating.
“How ‘bout I come pick you up after I finish work?”
“Yeah, okay, that’d be great, thanks.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold of December biting your skin.
“Here,” Steve notices, of course he does, and he reaches out with his hands, rubbing them up and down your arms to warm you.
“How’re your hands still warm?” You ask.
“I'm magic.”
You smile at that. He has no idea.
He reaches up with one hand to cup your cool cheek, and you nudge your face into his touch. For the warmth, you tell yourself. That’s it. His thumb runs over your skin, once, twice.
“Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty smile?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it. You don’t, though, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in your gut because of it.
“Shut up,” you try to mask your bashfulness.
Then, just like that, his face is close to yours. So close that it looks like he might kiss you. His eyes flick from your mouth up to yours, like he’s unsure of what’s happening while he’s doing it.
You can feel his breath tickling your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. Before that can happen, he’s swerving away quickly, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. The one he isn’t holding. His mouth lingers for a second.
“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin.
“Night,” you say, dazed. And he’s walking away.
Steve’s not at all sure what’s come over him. He wanted to kiss you just then, to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you stupid. What the fuck was happening to him?
When you let your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parted slightly, like you’d let him kiss you, like you wanted it, too, he panicked. Couldn't do it.
No, he doesn’t know what just happened, why it did, or why he’s resisting the urge to go back and knock on your door and actually kiss you when you open it. What he does know is that his heart seems to be doing something funny when you’re around, and that your fake relationship has been better than any of his real ones.
He knows he needs to talk to Robin about this.
-
Steve had to work the next morning—Christmas Eve—which he was actually thankful for. Thankful to get away from his parents, though the comments about his job followed him out the door this morning. Especially thankful because he needs to talk to Robin and sort out the mess of his feelings that has occurred in the last twenty four hours.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you. About how his stomach was all twisty when you slow danced with him. There are so many moments playing over in his memory. Not just from yesterday, either.
He remembers the way his stomach would sink when you’d tell him about a date you had or how he’d often reach out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, or to wipe something away from the corner of your mouth.
So many things over your friendship that he never thought about are coming back to him and he’s realized he doesn’t act that way with any of his other friends. Only you.
He also realizes that he hasn’t really been pretending with you at all.
“I think I love her,” Steve blurts out while he and Robin are organizing returns, the store luckily empty.
Robin reaches into her pocket, barely fazed, and tosses a handful of confetti at Steve. Some pieces stick to his hair, some to his clothes, most of it at his feet.
“What the hell?” He shakes the flecks out of his hair, “we have to clean that now.”
“I’ve been carrying around confetti for like a year waiting for this to happen!”
“Wait, what?”
“Steve, you’ve been loving her for a long time, hate to break it to you.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” He’s no longer preoccupied with the confetti.
“I was letting you do it on your own time. You’re welcome.”
Steve had only just deduced that he’s in love with you and yet, when he thinks about you, he feels the same way he has for years. He finds it hard to believe that he’s been blind to it for that long, but he has been called an idiot enough in his lifetime for it to make sense.
Then, there’s the fact that you’re not done fake dating yet, that there’s still dinner today to get through and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep himself together.
“What am I gonna do, Robin?”
“You’re gonna tell her how you feel and I will finally know peace.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I freak her out?”
“Steve, she looks at you like sun shines from your pores,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”
-
He picks you up after work as promised, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter, his greeting a little louder than normal. You figure he’s just nervous about dinner.
Nobody brings up the almost kiss, and you don’t plan to. Maybe you read things wrong. Maybe he was aiming for your cheek all along. Maybe he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.
It seems that your feelings for Steve are present now more than ever. Impossible to ignore. It might have something to do with the Christmas spirit floating around, the lightness of the holidays. It definitely has something to do with you being Steve’s fake girlfriend.
Because it turns out, he’s an excellent boyfriend, real or not.
He opens doors for you, even if he has to jog ahead of you to do it. He’s always got at least one hand on you, warm and sure. He looks at you with so much care, his brown eyes stuck on you.
It’s all adding up and you feel like your love for him is overflowing, pouring out of you before you can reel it in. You just hope he doesn’t notice that you’re not acting, that you never were.
Walking into Steve’s kitchen, you pause in the doorway, him behind you, “this smells great, Mrs. Harrington.”
Though Steve knows she probably bought most of the stuff and then put it in pots and pans to make it look like she cooked, he agrees, “so great, mom.”
She turns to look at you both from her spot by the stove, “thank you. Oh!” She cuts herself off with a gasp, her gaze drifting above your heads.
Oh no.
“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing.
“Look at that,” you laugh, short and awkward.
“Steve, sweetie, kiss your girlfriend for tradition's sake, won’t you.”
He kisses you on the cheek.
“A real one, son,” his father pipes up from his seat at the table.
Steve finds your gaze, his eyes wide and questioning. Are you okay with this? He’s asking without saying it. You nod, barely there, but you nod and he sees it.
He cups your cheek in his hand, flashes of last night on your porch come to you. He leans in slowly, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. Instead of doing that, you hold his wrist in your hand, squeeze it. Your silent communication.
In a blink, his lips are on yours. Pillowy and almost shy, but he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re floating, your feet off the ground and everything. He pulls away before you can even register the fact that it happened.
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your lips still burning with the memory of his.
Steve can't believe he hasn’t kissed you before. You’re soft and you fit together so well, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place. He’s kicking himself for not doing it last night, when you were alone, when it was real. Next time he kisses you, he thinks, it will be real.
He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, “so, let’s eat.”
Just like that, he’s moving to the table, pulling out a chair for you and kissing the top of your head once you’ve sat down. Already, the extra affection he’s been giving you has been dizzying. Now, it’s dialed way up.
He helps his mom serve the food before he sits down, though all he gets as a thank you is a pat on the cheek. Next to you, you can see Steve’s leg bouncing up and down. You reach out and place a hand above his knee, stilling him and drawing his gaze to yours.
You smile, and you hope it’s enough to say it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine. He rests his hand on top of yours, fingers laced together.
“So, Steve, have you been looking for jobs?” His father speaks up. The never-ending topic.
“No, dad. I have a job,” Steve doesn’t look up from his plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with his fork.
“Well, a real job, I mean.”
At Steve’s silence, his mom adds, “we just think, especially now that you have a girlfriend to support, you should look for something… better.”
You look up when she says it, eyes wide and hand tensing on Steve’s leg. You don’t understand how they care so much about what he does and so little about how he feels. He likes his job, you know that, and he’s tried to tell them multiple times over the past couple of days.
And still.
It’s impossible for you to sit by and listen to them talk to him the way they do, like he isn’t good enough. Like the only defining thing is his job, which isn’t even a bad one. What defines him is who he is as a person and he’s the best one in your life.
“Why does it matter so much?” You ask.
His parents look at you, surprised to be questioned, it seems. Steve looks at you, too, with something more like astonishment, appreciation.
“I’m sorry,” you continue, “it’s just, you haven’t seen your son in how long? And all you guys keep bringing up is his job, which he’s told you he actually enjoys. Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”
Steve’s world is tinting pink, heart-shaped lenses over his eyes hearing you defend him. Nobody’s ever tried to go against his parents for him, and here you are. Fuck, he loves you.
They’re quiet, and you’re not finished. “Steve is the greatest person I’ve ever met, and that’s no thanks to you. I’ve known him for a long time and not once have I seen you guys around. How can you judge him so much when you don’t even take the time to know him anymore?”
The room is dead quiet. Nothing but the clinking of forks against plates for the rest of the meal. You feel lighter, after saying what you did. Though you’re also terrified that you’ve overstepped, that Steve will be upset with you for causing a scene.
As if sensing your worry, he holds your hand just a bit tighter.
It’s not until after dinner, hidden away in his room, that you talk about what happened. Not the kiss; your outburst.
He shuts his door and you’re already apologizing, “listen, Steve. I'm so sorry if I made things worse, but I couldn’t just let them shit on your job anymore. I couldn’t. You’re my best friend, you know that, and-”
His arms are around you in a blink.
“Thank you,” he breathes into your hair. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. Thank you, honey.”
“Oh,” you blink away your surprise and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Anytime.”
“You’re really special.”
Your smile spreads, spilling before you can do anything about it. You hide your face in his neck and stay that way until he lets go, a flush in his cheeks and stars in his eyes.
Steve wanted to tell you he loves you right then, but the words seem stuck in his throat. They won’t come up. He wants to be with you for real, and though it happened in a rush, it also didn’t. His brain just needed to catch up to his heart.
He doesn’t say it, but he will. As soon as he can.
“Wanna go watch a movie?” You ask.
“Yeah, okay.”
Movie night. You and him. That’s real.
-
Steve’s parents seem to have gone out somewhere, the car missing from the driveway. They haven’t left, though. You and Steve checked for the suitcases (they’re sitting, already packed, in their room).
Playing the movie, yet another Christmas pick that Steve couldn’t say no to, you share a blanket. There’s plenty of room on the couch, you’re the only people there, and yet, Steve still tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you to lean against his side.
Maybe he’s just doing it in case his parents come home while you’re downstairs. That’s gotta be it.
“Is it bad that I’m sort of relieved they aren’t here right now?” Steve says to you, quiet.
“Not at all. You deserve better than what they give you, Steve.”
“You think so?”
“Are you kidding? I know so.”
He lets his head lean atop of yours, and that’s that.
You want to bring up the kiss, but then again, why would you? It’s not real. It’s not real no matter how much you wish it was, no matter how much it feels that way. You knew going into this that you might end up kissing Steve, you just didn’t know it’d fuck you up so much.
Part of you hopes that mistletoe will appear above your heads yet again, just to be able to feel the way you did when he kissed you. Heart fluttering, stomach twisting, warm all over.
Though Steve’s head feels relaxed, resting on yours, it’s overflowing with thoughts. You, his parents, the way you defended him, how it felt to kiss you, how much he wants to do it again. You. The entire length of the movie, he’s trying to think of a way to tell you he loves you. The best he comes up with is to wing it.
When the screen fades, and the film ends, you remember the gift you’d left in Steve’s room, buried at the bottom of your overnight bag (you decided to sleep over, something you’ve done too many times to count, and head to your place in the morning with Steve). You sit up, only to face him.
“I have something for you. C’mon,” you tug on his hand, leading him all the way to his own bedroom.
“What?”
“Just,” you make him sit down on his bed when you’re in the room, digging through your bag and finding the present you’d wrapped last night. “Here.”
He takes it from your hand slowly, like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t open it right away, staring at the red and green patterned wrapping paper and the gold stick-on bow sitting in the middle of it.
“Open it,” you urge, shuffling nervously on your feet.
He shoots you a shy smile before tearing at the paper, revealing a scrapbook of sorts. Flipping through the pages, he finds memories upon memories. Pictures of you and him, of him and Robin, all three of you. Some with the kids or with Eddie. Most of them he doesn’t even remember taking.
And it’s more than just pictures. There’s movie tickets and receipts from random fast food dinners, confetti from a surprise party for Dustin and a piece of a plate Steve broke once.
It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him. It reminds him that he does have a family, no blood relation needed.
“Honey,” he says it quietly, his eyes watering ever so slightly. “This is- I don’t even know what to say.”
“I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”
“No. I love it. It’s perfect, seriously,” he runs his finger over a picture of the two of you, your faces squished together and your smiles absolutely ridiculous. “Best gift ever.”
He means it.
“I had some help with the pictures. Everyone in that book loves you, Steve.”
Everyone in that book. That means you love him, too. He knows that you could mean it platonically, but something about the way you look at him when you say it makes him think that he has to tell you. He has to try.
He’s suddenly very glad he bought you a locket for Christmas, and that he left it unwrapped because of his lack of skills in that department.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Steve-”
“Please,” he trades spots with you, sitting you on the edge of his bed, “close your eyes for a minute, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you shut them tight, placing a hand over them as well, “double closed.”
He rushes to grab the locket from the bottom of one of his drawers, then grabs the tiniest bit of paper and manages to write as small as he can on it, placing the message in the necklace and closing it with a small click.
Steve reaches for the hand that isn’t covering your eyes, opening it up and placing the delicate piece of jewelry in it. “Okay, open.”
You do, glancing down to what rests in your palm. It’s gorgeous, dainty, and the corners of your mouth lift at the sight of it.
“It’s beautiful, Steve. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s a locket,” he says. His head is bent, shy and visibly nervous. “Open it, too.”
Your heartbeat picks up, like you know, subconsciously, that something big is hiding inside despite the small size of the necklace itself. You wedge your fingernail into the gap, pushing the locket open. The note inside makes your stomach drop.
In his messy, rushed writing, the words ‘I love you.’
You look at him, mouth agape and hopes way up. “Steve?”
“I mean it.”
“How-”
“I mean I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a really, really long time. I guess it took you being my fake girlfriend for me to realize it.”
“You’re not pranking me, are you?”
You’ve spent so long loving him, and convincing yourself that he could never love you the same, that it feels unreal. Hazy, like a dream.
He sits beside you, cupping your face in his hands softly to make you look at him, “I’m not pranking you. I love you.”
“Holy shit. I love you, too. For so long. I never thought I had a chance with you.”
“I think you’re the only person who’s had a real chance with me since I met you, honey.”
Right there, discarded wrapping paper on the floor, the glow of Christmas lights shining through the window, you doubt you’ll ever take that locket off once it’s on.
You can’t stop yourself from rushing forward and kissing him. A small press of your mouth against his at first, then, it’s more. It’s slow and every single thing you’ve ever wanted. His lips move with yours like they’re the only ones that know you.
This time, when you kiss, there’s no question. It’s real and it’s thawing every single worry you ever had about this. This is real, you get to think now.
Steve pulls away only when your breathing gets heavier, only when he absolutely has to. His thumb trails over your cheek, a lover’s touch. He takes the necklace from your hand, puts it on for you and kisses you again when he’s done.
“Do you think this was a Christmas miracle?” You say, teasing.
“I think this was just me being too stupid to notice how I feel about you. I know now, though.”
“Because you needed a fake girlfriend.”
“Because I needed a fake girlfriend,” he confirms. “But, I’d like a real one now.”
“I think I can manage that,” you nod, a lovesick smile on your face.
For once, Steve’s glad his parents came home. He never would have asked you to fake date him if they hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have realized his very real feelings for you, either. So, maybe it is a Christmas miracle, after all.
hey you! if you enjoyed please consider leaving a reblog, it would mean a lot and helps a ton more than you’d think! help support creators like me <3
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tswhiisftteedr · 4 months
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hi!!!! could I please request general nsfw headcannons for vox, val, and velvette (or just your favorite of the 3!)? maybe especially with a slightly bratty partner? thank you! :)
Behave Bitch! ☆ Headcanon + Oneshot
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☆ Valentino x Bratty!Gn!Reader, Vox x Bratty!Gn!Reader, Velvette x Bratty!Gn!Reader, and Valentino x Bratty!Gn!Reader x Vox:
You go out of your way to fuck with them and test their patience, and this is how their repercussion would be.
Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation(Lots of of degradation), Oral Sex(Male Receiving), Penetrative Sex, Bad Spanish, Creampie, Possessiveness, Spanking, Choking, Dacryphilia, Bondage, Handcuffs, Blood, Biting, Electricity NOT PROOFREAD.
Words: Total — 13 806, Valentino(Hc + Oneshot) — 2419, Vox(Hc + Oneshot) — 2365, Velvette(Hc + Oneshot) — 3463, Vox & Valentino(Hc + Oneshot) — 5539
Note: So I may or may not be a total slut for the three of them, and especially a sucker for Val x reader x Vox action. Like how should I say it? Oh, yeah, I need them inside m— Hehsjsnsnjwns Awooga lol. *Bitch is used gender neutrally if you couldn’t tell. So 4 things, number one this Headcanons + Drabbles/Slight Short One shots, note that the example in the headcanons are just examples of scenario, and are unrelated to the drabble part, so don’t get confused when they mention one situation and then you read about another. Number 2, the type of reader was not precise so I went with gender neutral, so I’m sorry if the smut part isn’t the best as I am still lacking in writing experience to make something great with the lack of precise genitalia mention. But if you find it good, we’ll good for you! Also I used Google and translation apps when it came to the Spanish that Valentino employs, so I’m sorry to my Hispanic readers of the display of language is not to your liking. And lastly, I didn’t know how to write a slightly bratty reader, so I’m sorry anon if the reader is either not enough or too bratty. Personally I love a full on bratty, attention whore, whiny reader because that’s how I am.(If I was hot and got over my fear of being rejected, anyways-) That’s it for info about the fic!!
Author Note: As I am writing this, I am halfway way done with a lute one shot, but I must say, please stop requesting works. I put my request on pause, and I indicated that one both my Masterlist and rules, but seems that people are still confused because some of my older fics have ‘Request are open’ at the bottom. So please don’t request anything more, I have 34 request to start working on after I finish the lute one, plus I still haven’t started to work on chapter 3 for my Idia series. (12 of those request are actually Adam related, and one of them is a zestial one, where the requester offered to pay me for it, so it’s at the top of my list after this 💸💰. Though I still haven’t reach them because I want to finish my lute work first.) Also I am fucking pissed as I am written this, cuz I keep seeing clips of episodes 7&8 of Hazbin on tumblr, but I don’t have prime so I have to wait for stupid illegal websites to repost them. Like I am genuinely mad at the wait time, since my boys(Val and vox, my loves, my husbands, my #1 turn ones-) are in it. Worst part of it all I saw the clips of Vox literally thrusting into the air saying his hard and that the sight of Alastor bloody was better than sex. Like shit, did that make me horny. Like Vox, sweaty, you can take out that pent up energy from the build up excitement, I don’t mind if the other Vees are watching, Valentino can even join~ Hehsjjsjsjnsks. Update: I just watch the two episodes, and fuck were they good. Anyways I’m done, enjoy the fic cunts!
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☆ more under the cut. ☆
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ఌ︎ Valentino ఌ︎
Oh, you have no idea ‘what kind of gift you gave him with your behavior, Cariño~’
He takes pleasure in ‘putting bitches in their place,’ so feel free to be yourself, use that sharp tongue, but be prepared for the consequences without too much complaints. And he relishes in being the one to mete out repercussions.
Valentino's approach is straightforward; he often lets you play and act as bratty as you want while casually keeping an eye on you. ‘No need to worry; he's merely observing.’
He'd allow you to talk back, tolerating insults, while seated in the VIP section of one of his clubs, surrounded by smoke and flirting demons. All that set up to provoke you into further incriminate yourself.
Despite the condescending expression on his face, you didn’t have anything to about him, everything appearing ordinary, considering he was Val. Nothing seemed suspicious for a while... and then, ¡Bam!
You find yourself dragged into the club's private bedroom, now in a position where you're either tied up or bent over his lap/desk, enduring a session of intense spanking for being a 'good-for-nothing slut,' with degrading comments throughout.
Valentino opts for a paddle, well aware of the sharp sting it leaves on your skin.
Eventually, he transitions to using his hands, relishing in the visible aftermath of his touch—handprints and bite marks adorning your body.
As tears stream down your face, you apologize and plead to him ‘that you would be better, so please stop’ and that’s ‘ ‘s to much!’. He makes no effort to conceal his satisfaction, openly grinning at your vulnerable state.
Today unfolded like any other typical day in hell, as you paid a visit to your boyfriend on the set. Entering his studio, you hung back for a moment, observing Valentino directing the actors, his voice sexy as always but this time yet again fill with frustration.
Amidst the chaos, there were whispers among the staff about the planned star for the movie being decapitated and having to fill their role in with a newbie due to the lack of time ro wait for the actors regeneration, this bringing light upon the source of Val's frustration.
You pondered how much worse his temper would escalate if you followed through with your planned actions. However, that thought didn't weigh heavily on your mind, as you were determined from the get go to mess with him.
Emerging from the shadows and skillfully navigating the set while evading the cameras' gaze, you approached Valentino. Grinning, he remarked, "You came to entertain papi, how sweet of you, amorcito~" standing up and expecting you to jump into his arms.
Surprisingly, you kept walking, engaging in conversation with a crew member, casually flirting. Val struggled to process the fact that ‘not only did you ignore him, but you did so to chat with some nobody!’
Oh boy, was he pissed, yet instead of his typical inclination to abandon work for a tantrum. He had remained seated, continuing to provide screen direction to his actors.
Now that he was well aware of your actions, he had no intention of losing the little game you were playing. Throughout the shoot, he feigned indifference, though his teeth subtly gritted each time he caught a glimpse of you so close to that random sinner.
Despite Valentino's own lack of shamelessness when it came to sleeping around, he was still the ever so possessive and obsessive man. And having so hands-on with someone else, especially in his presence, drove him to the walls.
After 45 minutes of takes and retakes, Valentino directed his staff to wrap up for the day. Immediately afterward, he approached you, gripping your wrist forcefully enough to surely leave a bruise. He then ushered you into the elevator, ascending to his shared luxurious living quarters and, ultimately, his room.
Once inside, he roughly threw you onto the bed, using one arm to pin both of yours above your head, another around your neck, while the remaining two swiftly removed your clothes.
As he approached your ear, his breath on your face, he scornfully remarked, “You wretched whore, think you go and flounce around, letting some fucker feel you up! ¿You’re so desperate to get fuck, verdad, puta?“ His voice carried disdain for your actions, yet beneath it, pent-up sexual frustration lingered.
Now having you completely undressed, Valentino briefly pulled away to retrieve something from his nightstand. It turned out to be a pair of long, dangling cuffs, ideal for securing you to his headboard. And that's precisely what he did.
Bound to the bedpost, you tested your restraints with a subtle tug, ensuring they securely held you in place. You wanted to confirm if there was any potential escape route, making sure you were aware of all possibilities.
In an instant, you felt Valentino's hands on you once more, grabbing your chest roughly, squeezing them hard enough to cause some pain but not enough to leave marks. His fingers then dug into your sensitive flesh, leaving bruises visible through the thin layer of sweat forming on your skin.
His touch was cold and calloused, contrasting sharply with the warmth emanating from his body.
"You little slut," he growled, his accented words dripping with contempt. "You think you can just throw yourself at anyone, disrespect me like this?" With each harsh word, his grip tightened further, pinching your nipples cruelly between his rough fingers.
Despite the pain, a shiver ran down your spine at the prospect of what was to come. You knew exactly how much control he had over you now, and it was exhilarating.
"No, Val," you managed to croak out between gasps for air. "I didn't mean anything by it, really."
But your words fell on deaf ears; instead, Valentino's hand moved lower, cupping your hips roughly before squeezing them forcefully. "You fucking liar," he snarled, his voice low and menacing. "You’re lucky your body is good at satisfying my needs, otherwise I would have already shot your ungrateful bitch ass!”
With that, you observed as he let his tongue swirl around his fingers, that action was followed by him teasing at your hole. “Wait Val, are you not gonna use lube—“
“Lube? Are y’a kidding me? ¡Shut the fuck up, puta! You should be crying tears of joy that I’m even prepping your undeserving ass.” Was all he said, before his fingers divulged into your tight hole, letting his other hand paw at your bits teasingly before pushing in a third finger inside you. The sensation was both pleasurable due to his aphrodisiac like spit and painful as it was all so sudden, it also felt as if he was claiming ownership over your body once more. Tears begging to role down your face at the stretch.
"You’re such a fucking slut, getting off on this, aren’t you?" he asked, his voice husky with desire yet stern. "You like acting like a desperate bitch in heat and piss me just so I can punish you, isn't that right, mariposa~"
As he spoke, he began to thrust his fingers in and out of your heat, pounding into you relentlessly. Each thrust caused your hips to rock forward, meeting his rhythm eagerly. Slightly letting reach down further, just close enough for his tongue to scoop your tears.
You could feel your body responding to the invasion, your hole tightening around his fingers, begging for more. Despite the pain, it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist the pleasure building inside you.
"No! Stop, please, Val!" you pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. Instead, he added another finger, stretching you wider. The sensation was both terrifying and arousing, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.
"Eso es," he growled, his voice laced with lust. "tómalo todo, you filthy whore."
Just as you thought you couldn't handle anymore, he removed his fingers, leaving your hole gaping open and vulnerable. With a cruel chuckle, he stood up and unfastened his pants, revealing his massive harden cock, thick and veiny, throbbing with desire.
"Time to teach really you a lesson," he said, his eyes burning with hunger. "Get ready to scream, puta."
Without further ado, he positioned himself at your entrance, aligning his tip with it.
"N-no, please, Val—" you managed to utter out before he slammed into you without mercy, filling you up completely.
The sudden intrusion caused you to cry out even harder in both pain and pleasure. Your body shook violently as he started to thrust in and out of you.
Each powerful thrust pushed deeper than before, stretching you further than and further. Your moans turned into high-pitched squeals of mixed agony and pleasure, and your juices coated his member as he pounded into you relentlessly.
The bed creaked under the combined weight of their bodies, adding to the primal rhythm of your session. Your body bounced wildly with each thrust, nipples hardening further under the harsh treatment.
Your legs were spread wide apart, while your hands were still bound tightly to the headboard, rendering you helpless against his onslaught. You couldn't move, couldn't escape the intense pleasure building up inside you.
As he continued his brutal assault, your body adjusted to the his dick, becoming slightly accustomed to the stretching. Your walls tightened around him, milking him eagerly.
He groaned, his hips slamming harder against yours, his cock pounding deeper than ever. His hand reached up to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking your head forward forcefully, exposing your neck and throat.
"Open that filthy mouth," he growled, his breath hot against your neck.
You obeyed, parting your lips, and Valentino pulled back to spit directly into your mouth. The saliva was thick with frustration, a stark contrast to the usual sweet yet dominant taste of his kisses.
"Swallow it, bitch," he demanded, his voice full of desire. Your throat still constricted by one of his hands, yet you managed to swallow the bitter saliva, feeling it coat your tongue and throat.
The humiliation and degradation only served to heighten your arousal, your body quivering as his thrusts grew more frenzied. Your walls clenched around his shaft, urging him to go faster, harder.
"You like that, don't you? Of course you do!" he snarled, his grip tightening in your hair. "You love being treated like the worthless slut you are."
His words only served to fuel the fire inside you, your body shaking and writhing under his control. You couldn't help but whimper in response, your body betraying you with every moan.
Valentino continued to thrust into you, his pace relentless. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, ‘almost there’ you though.
Suddenly, Valentino pulled out, leaving you gasping for air, feeling empty and needy.
He quickly untied you from the headboard, dragging you onto your hands and knees, positioning you on all fours. His grip tightened around your neck, choking you just enough to make your vision blur.
"Don’t think I didn’t feel you clench around my cock, you ain’t cumming that easily," he hissed, his voice full of lust.
You nodded, trying to catch your breath, your eyes watering from the lack of air. He wasted no time, thrusting back into you, filling you up once more. This time, his thrusts were even more brutal, the angle hitting your g-spot with each plunge.
The choking intensified, making it even harder to breathe, yet you found yourself moaning louder, your body desperate for release. Your legs shook, struggling to hold you up as he continued to pound into you.
"You're mine, not any other overlord’s or fucking prince of hell, and certainly not that pathetic fucker from earlier, you hear me, Y/N?" he growled, his grip on your neck tightening.
You managed a nod, your voice strangled by his chokehold.
Valentino keeps his hold on your neck, as he brings one of his hand down onto your ass, leaving a stinging impact. The pain was a welcome distraction from the choking, making your moans turn into cries of pleasure.
He spanked you repeatedly, alternating between cheeks, leaving handprints on your flesh. The stinging sensation only served to heighten your senses, your body trembling with every smack.
"You're going to cum for me, slut," he promised, his voice low and menacing. "And you're going to beg for it." Following his words, the hand that was then on your neck was now grabbing at your hair.
Your body tensed, the pleasure building to an unbearable level. Your inner walls clenched around his shaft, milking him relentlessly as he continued to spank and thrust into you.
You couldn't help but comply, your voice hoarse from the choking. "P-please, Val, I need to cum!"
He chuckled darkly, his thrusts becoming even more frenzied. "I said beg for it, you filthy little slut!"
"Please, papi, I need to cum, please! I need so, so bad, ‘can’t think! I just need to come, please, please, please Val!" you begged,
Your voice breaking with the intensity of the moment. Valentino smirked, his thrusts growing even harder, slamming into you with all his might.
Your body was at his mercy, your orgasm building to a crescendo. You could feel the wave crashing over you, your insides clenching around him, milking his cock as he continued to pound into you. One of his hands playing with your front.
"Cum for me, you worthless bitch," he growled, his own release nearing.
You cried out, your orgasm overwhelming you, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. Valentino followed suit, groaning loudly as he filled you with his seed, your body trembling as he came inside you.
He pulled out, leaving you panting and shaking, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body. Valentino stood up, wiping the sweat from his forehead before lighting a smoke.
After taking some puffs at he grabbed your body once more, “V-Val??” You question in confusion, and the look he gives was so demeaning.
“Bitch, are y’a dumb? Don’t tell me you thought this was over already.” Was all he said before resuming….
Here you were, on the verge of passing out, body full of cuts, hand, teeth, and whip prints all over your body.
"You're lucky I love you," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of affection. "But don't you ever fucking test my patience again, amorcito."
You nodded, with the both of you knowing that it was a lie, you would definitely act out again.
Finally, your body lulled to dreamland.
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⌁ Vox ⌁
Listen, despite his constant complaints about everyone's incompetence and having to clean up after their mess, he finds himself unable to do the same when it comes to you.
But, ‘fuck, did he adores your brattiness.’ It's not that he particularly enjoys dealing with your attitude; rather, it's the journey to the aftermath of your actions that captivates him. Overall, the right to fuck all of his day’s frustration into you!
Take, for instance, a meeting—perhaps not the most crucial, but still relevant, especially as it is concerning one of his latest products on the market.
Suddenly, you would barge into the meeting room, whining about him not giving you enough attention and accusing him of being all about work.
He would sweet talk you into silence until the meeting concluded, but that didn't imply you felt obligated to completely behave. As the meeting continued, you ended up seated on his lap, grinding yourself on his crotch.
Immediately after the meeting concluded and the conference room was emptied, he would lock the door. Then bend you over the spacious table, he pressed your head against the cold wood and proceeded to unleash a waterfall of insults, flowing from his mouth kin to water from a faucet.
He would fuck you so intensely that the both of you would almost lost sight of the initial cause. Almost, though you might have blurred the memory, he certainly hadn't. So as soon as his workday concluded, he would take you once again in his private quarters.
Forcing you to ‘repent for being such impudent slut,' reducing you to tears with his rough handling and verbal abuse.
Today was an incredibly dull day in hell. Wandering around the pentagram on the Vees' turf, you had an escort by your side as per Vox's requirement for taking a stroll outside.
There seemed to be nothing to do, or at least it felt that way. You managed to grab a cup of coffee, but beyond that, nothing fun was available, entering clubs required asking Vox's for his permission first. This ensured that he could assemble a larger entourage to guarantee your safety when you wanted to partake in the activity.
Despite your inclination to fuck with him, you refrained, recognizing that would be too much on his already overworked heart – he'd be more worried than irritated.
Opting for a tamer approach, you aimed to provoke him and get under his skin. Your goal was to distract Vox from his work, shifting his focus to entertain you. Making him jealous seemed the most effective strategy in your eyes, and that's where your escort, a tall and attractive hellhound, entered the scene.
Aware that Vox had eyes throughout the pentagram, particularly in this area, you initiated your plan with this knowledge in mind.
You strolled with your arm around the hellhound, falsely fawning over his looks and intellect, toying with his hair and even embracing him—all visible to Vox. Despite his busy schedule, Vox always kept an eye on you through the multitude of screens around pentagram city. And the sight of you so cozied up with the hellhound, left him seething.
What intensified the situation was your final gesture. As you bid farewell in front of the Vees' tower, you made the hellhound lean down for a thank-you kiss on the cheek, this fuelling your boyfriend's rage and insecurities. After that, you simply entered the building, mentally preparing for the upcoming interaction with Vox.
As you exited the elevator, Vox stood right in front, evidently having anticipated your return. As you locked eyes with him, the flames of anger and jealousy practically radiated from his gaze. It seemed your somewhat sadistic display had made a number on him.
"Hey, Vox, baby. How's it going? I thought you were too busy to step out of your office," you nonchalantly remarked, playing the coy card. Before you knew it, one of his clawed hands circled your waist, while the other firmly grasped your chin.
"Yeah, I was one incredibly busy man this morning, busting my ass to keep this shit show afloat. However, my partner seems to be utterly indifferent to it all. It looked as if they couldn't care less, with the way they were all over that hellhound-nobody," he remarks, his hand at your waist pressing into your skin.
"Oh, what on sweet hell could you be referring to?" you playfully feign innocence, this only aggravating your boyfriend's frustration.
"Do play games with me, whore. You know exactly what you were up to, the fact have eyes everywhere, and despite today's incident, I won't fire that guy because he's loyal." His face inches closer to yours, "If you were so desperate for my cock that you went out of your way to mess with me, you could’ve said so baby~ And I would’ve had you sucking me off as I work. But noooo, you just had to be be a a fucking slut and piss me off. Now let's see where that misbehaviour gets you, bitch.”
Now, bent over his lap, bottoms off, you endure the consequences as he delivers hits to your behind, while he casually sipped on a glass of whiskey;
You flinched slightly at each slap, but didn't dare to yell or struggle. Instead, you bit your lower lip and whimpered softly, your body trembling with each impact.
Your mind raced with thoughts of how much you deserved this punishment, how much you craved it.
"Please, sir, stop, it hurt ‘so much!" you whimpered between each strike, your voice cracking with each word. "I'll be a good, I promise."
"You’ll be good? Ha! What a fucking joke. You're lucky I don't break your pretty little neck right here and now. But since you asked nicely, maybe I'll i won’t hurt you as bad, this once. Now stand up straight and face me like the disobedient whore you are."
Slowly, you stood up straight, your legs trembling slightly as you awaited his next move. "Thank you, sir."
"That's better," he said putting his drink down on the nightstand, his voice laced with distain yet also a hint of satisfaction. "Now, strip for me."
You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to push your luck or not. But then again, you knew better than to defy him twice in a row. Slowly, you took off your sweater, removing a layer of heat.
Next came the your top, you began to undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing your chest.
You stood there, naked and ass completely bare, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet somehow aroused by the power he held over you.
"Turn around," he commanded coldly. Reluctantly, you turned around, your ass wiggling seductively as you did so. "Now, get on the bed, all fours, and face the mirror."
You complied reluctantly, feeling your heart race with anticipation mixed with fear. You knew what was coming next, but it didn't make it any easier to endure. You could feel his presence looming over you, his heat radiating off his body.
"That’s it bitch," he praised, his voice dripping with false reassurance. "Now, spread your legs."
You widened your stance, exposing your parts to him, the scent of arousal filling the air around you. "That's a good whore," he complimented, his hand reaching out to grab your hair and pull your head back forcefully, so you would be looking straight at the mirror.
"Look at me," he growled, his eyes boring into yours through the reflection. "Do you understand what happens to misbehaving sluts like you?"
"No," you managed to croak out, your voice barely above the sound of your pounding heart. "I-I don't know."
"Then let me educate you," he said coldly, his hand reaching out to slap your ass hard enough to leave a mark. "This is what happens to disobedient whores like you." Meanwhile he had removed his other hand from your hair, using it it to play with your front, ‘how kind of him~’
With each slap, his hand left a stinging mark on your ass, making it throb with each impact. The pain mixed with the humiliation and arousal, making it difficult for you to think straight. You squirmed and whimpered, trying to escape the torment but knowing it was futile.
"Please, sir," you begged between slaps, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'll be good. Just give me something more, please."
"You're sorry now? Too late for apologies, greedy bitch," he spits. But after a moment of consideration, he seems to have a change of perspective. With a wide grin on his face, “Okay then,” he says, releasing you and getting himself confortable on the bed. “Crawl over here and worship my cock, and I’ll consider forgiving you."
With shaking legs, you crawled towards him, your eyes locked on his hardened member, throbbing with desire through the fabric of his expensive pants. You reached out and undid them, pulling down his boxers and wrapped your lips around the head. Taking as much of his cock into your mouth as you could.
"Fuck," he says a bit breathless, this followed by his hand roughly grabbing your hair and pulling your head back and forth, face-fucking you.
"That’s right, show me how much you want me, how much you need my cock inside you."
You moaned around his cock, sucking and slurping greedily, your tongue swirling around the head, trying to please him. Your hands reached up, grasping his thighs, leaving wrinkles on the fabric as you held on tightly.
"Good," he praised, his voice becoming more husky with desire. "Now, let’s go back to the previous position." He tells you, forcefully pulling you off his dick.
With that you had his hand at your hole, rubbing and teasing your entrance "Spread your legs wider, and besides that, don't move a muscle."
You obeyed, spreading your legs wider, exposing yourself fully to him. He continued to tease and torment you, spiting on his fingers, he then digs into your sensitive spot, making you moan and writhe in pleasure mixed with pain.
"Tell me you're mine, bitch, that you belong to me," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me you'll do whatever I want, whenever I want."
"I'm yours, Vox," you managed to choke out, your voice cracking with each word. "I'll do anything you want!"
"That's better," he purred, his fingers leaving your hole and moving to your nipples instead. He pinched and twisted them mercilessly, causing you to arch your back and cry out at the painfully mix of sensation.
"Now, beg me to claim you as my own, not anyone else,"
"Please, Vox, claim me as yours," you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I'm yours, I belong to you. Take me however you want, whenever you want."
"Seems like your not completely braindead after all," he sorta praises, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Keep your legs open like that."
"Yes, Vox," you managed to mumble out, your voice trembling with fear and arousal.
“That’s it," his voice dripping with false affection. "You better be ready, because I’m still pissed."
Without warning, he grabbed your hair again, pulling your head back forcefully, exposing your neck to him. "This is for disobeying me earlier today," he growled, his sharp teeth shining in the light as he bit down hard on your neck. His teeth sank deep into your skin, sure to leave a mark.
As he moved to bite another spot, you writhed and squirmed beneath him, unable to escape his hold. His tongue darted out to clean up the blood that trickled down your throat. Meanwhile, his other hand reached between your legs one more, finding your front and playing with it vigorously, driving you wild with desire.
"You taste so fucking good, slut," he growled as his mouth was now at your lips, his voice hoarse with desire. "Don’t fucking play with me again like that what you did today, understand?"
"Yes, Vox," you managed to choke out between gasps, your body trembling with the combination of pain and pleasure. "I won’t.” A lie you were both aware of.
"That's a good bitch," he praised, releasing your neck and licking the mark he had left on your neck clean. His hands now solely focused on making you climax, in addition he would let out some electricity coarse through his and consequently your body.
Your body still trembling with the aftermath of his earlier assault, and his current touches weren’t helping you to stabilize. Your eyes rolled back as you felt close, ‘close to finally cumming.’
"Look at yourself, Y/N," he tells, his voice low and demeaning, well aware you couldn’t look at your self with the way we’re rolled back. "So fucking pathetic and needy for release… Beg for it.”
And so you did, "P-please, Vox... I need it so bad," you begged, your voice cracking with desire. "Please, let me cum."
His laughter reverberated in your ears as he continued to tease you mercilessly. "You want it so badly, don't you?" he asked, his fingers working faster and harder between your legs, more and more shocks divulging from him.
Your mind drifted away from reality as you felt the edge of orgasm getting closer and closer, your body tensing up in anticipation. "Please, Vox!" you cried out, unable to resist any longer.
"Do you understand now?" he asked, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Do you understand your place in this world and how you belong by my side only?"
"Yes, Vox," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing.
And a simple, “Cum.” was all it took for you to completely let go and the waves of pleasure take your body over….
You winced in pain while observing your reflection in the mirror. Bruises and bite marks adorned your body, and your swollen ass bore the aftermath of his restless assault. Dried tears stained your cheeks.
Then, Vox tenderly stroked your head, followed by a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Love you, babes, but don’t fuck with me like that again"
An ‘okay’ was all you had said before falling asleep.
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✮ Velvette ✮
Despite possessing a sharp tongue herself, she has zero tolerance for sassiness or misbehavior. It's strictly 'her way or the highway, bitch!'
A single word out of place, and she'd swiftly grab your face, calling you out and issuing a stern warning to behave, unless you wanted to witness her truly angry.
Naturally, her warnings failed to deter you from persisting in your bratty behaviors; 'it didn't before, so why should it now?'
Turns out getting on Velvette bad side, wasn't as smooth sailing as your moment of unwarranted confidence led you to believe.
You might have casually stroll through her studio, engaging in conversation with her employees, consequently diverting their attention from work.
All this, despite their already tight schedule that you were acutely aware of, thanks to Velvette's hours-long bitching about it.
Nonetheless, you proceeded with your plan. In all honesty, given the hectic schedule leading up to the fashion show, Velvette had minimal time for you. Despite her efforts to squeeze out a few moments, the occasional 30 minutes a day left you unsatisfied.
If she wasn't going to provide the attention you craved, ‘you were determined to seek it elsewhere, easy peezy—‘ or so you believed.
Spotting you getting overly friendly with one of her models, she would forcefully pull you into a changing room, securing your wrist against the wall with one hand while using the other around your throat.
Insult would escape her lips as she vowed to in-still proper discipline in you in a more physical manner if simple phrases like 'I'm busy right now' failed to do the trick.
After leaving distinctive bite marks on your neck and collar, and leaving you with panting breath and puffy lips from an intense make-out session, she would resume her work. However, she would promise to teach you a lesson later that night as she exited the dressing room.
Honestly, among all three of the Vees, she was the only one with the decency not to do you in public.
"Today is already a mess, but you had to make it worse, you ungrateful bitch," Velvette exclaimed before storming out of her office, leaving you alone, bound, with vibrators attached to stimulate your body.
Now, how did it come to this? Let's rewind to 10:30 a.m.;
Velvette had overslept by an hour, throwing her entire schedule off, and in the world of fashion and social media, an hour is practically an eternity.
Despite consistently projecting an image of superiority, she was visibly rattled by being late. Knowing she couldn't control or turn back time, she relied on meticulous planning to leash the day. She's a bit of a control freak, if you hadn't noticed.
After a challenging morning of tackling voicemails and addressing urgent missed calls, Velvette managed to regain her momentum. Things were sailing smoothly until Valentino made an appearance.
Apparently, one of his employees had been shot in the face the previous night, resulting in a disfigurement that rendered them unable to participate in the planned movie.
Clearly frustrated, Valentino stormed into Velvette's studio to bitch about the situation, throwing things around and even ripping apart one of Velvette’s workers. This compelled her to call in a backup model, with rates that would disrupt her budget.
Not only did Velvette find this model too expensive, but she also disapproved of their overly flirtatious attitude.
And that's where you entered the picture, making her already lousy day even more exasperating. You had awakened about 10 minutes after Velvette, disturbed by her loud conversations on the phone.
However, it didn't bother you too much since your morning routine wasn't significantly affected by the late wake-up call. As Velvette's sugar baby and partner, she paid you to prepare home-cooked meals, be there to listen to her vent, and look good. As long as you weren’t the one who’s oversleep, you were in the clear.
In contrast to her hectic morning, yours unfolded at a slow and leisurely pace. You took your time with skincare and haircare, even savoring the breakfast you had prepared while Velvette rushed through hers to catch the elevator to her studio.
Despite disliking seeing her frowning and rushed in the mornings, you had held your tongue, aware that she wasn't in the mood to be told so. Besides, you couldn't help but smile when you noticed she had still laid out your outfit of the day despite her hurried state.
As half past noon approached, you descended in the elevator to her studio, carrying a warm lunch. Knowing she needed some persuasion to take a break from work and eat, even though she paid you to prepare her meals.
When she initially dismissed you upon your approach, it wasn't surprising. That was the usual routine. However, typically, after 15-25 minutes, she'd relent. Well, that was the norm. This time, an hour had passed, and she still adamantly refused to pause.
Bored and hungry, the usual scene of you two enjoying a shared meal and exchanging affectionate words was absent. Normally, you'd be showering her with praise, boosting her pride and motivation with each word. ‘This was how things were supposed to be,’ you thought, yet here you were, seated on a plush satin-covered chair in a corner of the spacious room.
Contemplating leaving altogether, considering nobody in the studio cared about your presence except Velvette, and she was currently too busy to notice. As you prepared to depart, a manicured hand rested on your shoulder.
"Well, hello there, sweetheart. What's a pretty thing like you doing all alone?" inquired the attractive woman with whom you soon found yourself engaging in conversation with. Unbeknownst to you, she was the backup model Velvette disliked but had to call in.
What you did know was that from her flirty attitude, to the fact she was feeling you up and the eye fucking she was giving you, that woman was definitely hitting on you.
You also knew you should have told her that you were with Vel, but after feeling ignored and abandoned since this morning, it felt refreshing to have someone finally pay attention to you.
Around 2:25 p.m., Velvette finally took a break from work, envisioning a moment to share lunch with you and perhaps find comfort in your embrace.
However, that dreamy scenario shattered when she looked your way and spotted 'that bitch Bridgette Bastia' not only flirting with you, her hand around your waist, but also eating away at HER LUNCH.
To make matters worse, Bridgette whispered things in your ear, leading to giggles.
Unlike Valentino, Velvette wasn't one to tear employees apart; she preferred the more elegant approach of firing them.
However, witnessing the girl cozying up to you fueled a desire in her to do something far less refined. She wanted nothing more than stab the chick to death(well, second death).
When Velvette confronted you about the proximity between you and the model, you had the audacity to respond with a cheeky "What's wrong, babes? Thought you were busy," accompanied by a sly expression and tone.
In a fit of rage, Velvette pushed Bridgette away and seized your wrist, forcefully ushering you into her office and slamming the door shut behind you;
"Today is already a mess, but you had to make it worse, you ungrateful bitch. Allowing that cunt to touch you so freely! Are you that much of a whore that you can't stand to not have someone laying their hands on you for a moment?" Velvette spat at you, accentuating her anger with a furious fist slam.
She yearned to make you suffer for intensifying her frustration, but hitting wasn't her style, and mere verbal assaults wouldn't suffice. That's when what she considered a brilliant idea struck her.
Utilizing her clothing transformation ability, she effortlessly rendered you completely exposed and bound with a mere swipe of her finger. Your once classy outfit morphed into an intricate arrangement of tied ropes, forming a captivating star-shaped pattern across your chest, in addition to a blindfold obscuring your vision, leaving you helpless in both movement and sight.
To escalate matters, she procured a vibrator from her office drawer and a ball gag she had used for a recent BDSM-themed shoot.
"You want to play the part of a needy slut, so I'll treat you as such," she whispered into your ear.
Following that, she attached the vibrator to your parts, setting it to medium vibration. It was intense enough to make your body react, but not strong enough to get you off.
"Behave until I return," she stated before departing, leaving you alone and exposed in the secluded offices.
Feeling the sensation of the vibrations consuming you, you clung to the hope that she was merely bluffing and would return soon.
Yet, you were well aware not to rely on that expectation. Once Velvette made up her mind, nothing you could say or do would alter her decision. ‘Knowing her, it wouldn't be surprising if she left you in that room until the end of her workday.’
As time passed the vibrations continued to pulse through your body, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and arousal. Velvette's actions were surprising but far from unpredictable. She had always been domineering and controlling, but this was on a whole new level.
You couldn't help but wonder how long you would be left like this, 3 hours had already passed by now, 2 more and the day would be over. ‘Did she forget you were in there, or was she intentionally keep you bound and stimulated to teach you a lesson?’
Your mind began to race with thoughts of escape. With your hands tied, it wouldn't be easy, but surely you could find a way to free yourself. The sensation of vibrator was becoming more intense with each passing minute, making it harder to concentrate on your predicament.
As you wriggled and squirmed, trying to find a way to release yourself, the door to the office creaked open. You tensed up, hoping it was Velvette, ready to release you from your captive state.
But instead, it was none other than Valentino, a cloud of red smoke surrounding him, and a smirk appearing on his face as he took in the sight before him.
"Well, well, look who we have here," Valentino drawled with his condescending smirk, his eyes inspecting your bound and stimulated form. "I guess you've managed to piss off our dear Velvette, huh? Serves you right. I've always known you were spoiled little bitch that didn’t know their place."
He sauntered over to you, his black heel boots clicking against the hardwood floor. "Thought you could get away with flirting with another woman right in her studio? You're a dumber than I if you thought she'd let that slide."
He leaned in close, his breath hot and rank against your ear. "She's got a mean streak, you know. You should have just waited patiently instead of pulling that kind of stunt. I’d keep my eyes peeled and my mouth shut from then on if I were you."
With that, Valentino turned on his heel and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving you alone in the room now filled with smoke with your humiliation and aching body…
About 10 minutes later Velvette stormed into the office, her face twisted in anger. She had received a text message from Valentino, no doubt gloating about the situation he had just witnessed.
Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene before her: you, bound and stimulated, with a look of both embarrassment and arousal on your face.
Velvette's lips curled into a sneer as she stepped into the room, a mixture of anger and amusement playing across her features. "What a fucking mess," she muttered under her breath, crossing the room to stand before you.
"I told you to behave, and this is what happens? Valentino gets a peek at your pathetic state," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She reached down and flicked the vibrators, making you flinch and moan softly around your gag.
"Oh, look at that, you're already soaking wet," she teased, her fingers tracing the contours of the vibrator attached to you. "I can't believe I have to deal with this. And here I thought you were smarter than that.”
Velvette couldn't resist the urge to taunt you further, her fingers gently probing your slick, throbbing intimates. She knew full well the effect it would have on you, and the way you squirmed only fueled her desire to humiliate you.
"You're so wet, darling. It's almost as if you enjoyed having Valentino see you like this," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I'll make sure to tell him how wet you got from the embarrassment. Bet that moth fucker would love that, and so would you."
Obviously you weren’t into Valentino, and seeing like that you was the last you had wanted. So of course you violently shook your head in didn’t disagreement at the mention of her telling him more about your current interactions.
Thought being rendered Velvette’s pathetic bitch was hot, and an observer only reaffirmed the situation. ‘So maybe him walking in wasn’t ‘that’ unpleasant—‘
Her fingers danced against your most sensitive spots, eliciting strangled moans from you. "You're such a terrible liar, you know that? I can always see right through you," she continued, her voice a mixture of anger and arousal.
Despite your frustration and embarrassment, you couldn't deny the pleasure coursing through you with each touch from Velvette's skilled fingers. Her words and actions were cruel, yet they only seemed to heighten your arousal. As some sort of grace, she had removed the gag from you.
"It's not my fault he came in here," you whimpered . "I didn't invite him."
"Oh, please," Velvette scoffed, her fingers continuing their dance. "You're always looking for attention, always seeking validation from others. It's disgusting." Obviously she knew what she was saying was bullshit but it was fun taunt.
She increased the pressure, your body arching in response. "You should be grateful I haven't given you to him yet. He'd probably enjoy watching you squirm even more than I do."
Her words stung, but they also fueled your arousal. You knew she was right; you did crave attention, and Velvette's treatment of you only made it worse.
"Please, Velvette," you pleaded, your voice barely audible. "I'm sorry. Just let me cum please." Hours of stimulation plus the added stimulation had become to much for you, if you didn’t cum soon you would go crazy.
Velvette smirked at your plea, her fingers slowing down for a moment. "Oh, you want to cum, is that so?" she purred, stepping closer to you. "And what makes you thing you deserve it, huh? After your behaviour today, you’re gonna have to earn it."
She reached down and untying the vibration, removing it from your body altogether. "Now, you're going to eat me out and beg for me to make you cum. If you do a good job, I might just let you."
You felt a mixture of relief and panic as the vibrators were removed. While your body ached for release, the idea of pleasuring Velvette made you both nervous and excited, especially because your climax depended on it.
"Don't disappoint me," she warned, her eyes locked on yours. "I'm not in the mood for any more disobedience."
With a final glare, she stepped back, giving you room to kneel before her. Your heart raced as you watched her unzip her pants, revealing pretty pussy.
You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking between Velvette's smirking face and the task ahead of you. You could feel the tension in your body, the need to cum be touched overwhelming. But you knew you had no choice but to obey.
Mustering your courage, you lowered your head, your tongue darting out to trace the edge of Velvette's lace panties. The fabric was slick with arousal, and you knew she was already wet for you. She removed the arrival clothing herself as you were still bound.
With a deep breath, you began to lick and suck, your hands in fist to bring yourself some security. Velvette's hands threaded through your hair, guiding you as you tasted her.
"That's it, slut," she hissed, her voice low and dark. "Show me how sorry you are."
You redoubled your efforts, licking and nibbling at her skin, flicking your tongue against her clit. Velvette's breath hitched, her fingers tightening in your hair.
"Fuck, that feels good," she growled, her body arching into your mouth. "But you still haven't earned your orgasm."
You knew she was right, and you concentrated on pleasing her, your tongue working in tandem. Velvette's moans grew louder, her thighs shaking.
"You're doing well, Y/N," she said, her voice a ragged whisper. "But you still have a long way to go."
Velvette's voice was sharp, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled your head back. "Apologize for talking to that model," she demanded, her eyes like ice. "Admit that you were in the wrong,”
You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. Saying the words would be humiliating, but you needed relief.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice breathy. "I shouldn't have talked to her. I was wrong."
Velvette's fingers loosened, her eyes narrowing. “Better,” she said, her voice still icy. "Now finish making me come, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you cum."
You augmented your efforts, your tongue working with renewed vigor. Velvette's moans grew louder, her body trembling.
"You're close," you murmured against her folds, your own arousal reaching new heights, despite being the one getting dominated it was still hot to see her all shaky.
Velvette's body tensed, her moans growing louder as you brought her to orgasm. Her release washed over you, her juices coating your tongue and face.
"Good bitch," she panted, her body shuddering.
With that, Velvette pulled you to your feet, your bodies pressed together. Her fingers found your front once more, teasing you before starting to jerk you.
"Spread your legs," she ordered, her voice harsh. "I want a good view of your pretty body."
You complied, your heart racing. Velvette's hands played you like a fiddle, her gaze locked on your face.
"You're so wet," she said, her voice a mix of satisfaction and anger. "No wonder Valentino was so fucking smug about it."
Your body throbbed, the need for release growing stronger. Velvette's hands moved faster, her gaze never leaving your face.
"Beg me for it," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Beg me to make you cum."
You hesitated, your breath hitching. Asking for her permission felt like a betrayal of yourself, but you needed relief.
"Please, Velvette," you whispered, your voice shaking. "I need to cum. Please let me cum."
Her fingers paused for a moment, her eyes locked on yours. "You're so desperate, aren't you?" she purred, her fingers resuming their pace.
She increased her pace, her hands toying with you with expert precision. Your body ached, your moans growing louder.
"Tell me how much you want it," she commanded, her voice a low growl. "Tell me how much you need to cum."
You hesitated, your face flushing, but you needed her permission.
"I need it, Velvette," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I need to cum so bad."
Her fingers slowed, her eyes never leaving your face. "You better make a good show, slut," she said, her voice tight. "Or I'll make you wait even longer next time."
Velvette's hands going faster, your body arching in response. You could feel the orgasm building, your breath coming in short bursts.
"That's it, Y/N," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Come for me."
With a final surge, you came, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. Velvette's hnads never stopped, her thumb brushing against your most sensitive part.
"That’s my good bitch," she said, her voice satisfied. "Now, I think it's time for a reward."
She pulled her fingers from your body, her eyes locked on your face. She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours. The kiss was rough, her tongue probing your mouth.
Velvette pulled away, her eyes still locked on yours. "You'll learn to behave next time, won't you?" she asked, her voice soft but firm.
You nodded, your body still trembling from your orgasm. As much as the experience had been humiliating and degrading, there was something thrilling about it, too.
"Yes, Velvette," you whispered, feeling both exhausted and satisfied.
With that she untied you, dressed you back up and sent you on your merry way to your shared room…
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𝐕 Valentino & Vox 𝐕
Is one cock truly not enough for you, greedy whore~
Firstly, what possessed you to believe that engaging in any kind of relationship with both of them was an intelligent idea? Dealing with one is bad enough, but two? Are y’a crazy bitch?! (By the way, the bitch is me, I need these motherfucker to tag team me. Now that this is said, no more interruptions.)
Initially, this situation would be chaotic, not only due to the on and off relationship these two shared but now, you're also giving them attitude? ‘Who the fuck do you think you are?!’
The atmosphere would swiftly shift, with Val embodying his short-tempered self, and Vox grappling with frustration, both using you as some sort of stress reliever as they would fuck you until they were relaxed.
Picture this: Val once again enraged at an employee, Vox desperately attempting to pacify him. You entering the room, trying to innocently retrieving your charger left there this morning—‘nothing too troublesome, nothing to escalate their moods, right?’
Well, not quite. The catch is that your attire was entirely off the mark. Despite it being a Wednesday, the designated day for pink attire as Val had explicitly stated, your outfit missed the mark.
And it wasn't just Val overseeing your wardrobe; Vox had explicitly forbidden overly revealing clothing, especially when walking through the Vees' tower where anyone could catch an eyeful of you.
The burning question on both of their minds, as you discreetly attempted to grab your belongings and make your exit, was: 'Why the fuck were you in that skimpy red outfit?!' (It’s also that fucking radio demon’s color! — Vox)
It wouldn't take long for the situation to escalate into a heated argument. You asserting your independence, claiming the right to wear whatever you pleased, and their response insisting you belonged to them, hence you would dress as instructed. In addition, you would also insults their masculinity and critiques of their chosen attire for the day, as some sort of pay back.
Controlling your clothing marked an expression of their intense possessiveness. Despite its occasional annoyance, you found it fucking thrilling to be both their lover and plaything.
And as you would flip them off and attempting to leave the room, you'd feel a pair of clawed arms wrapping around you, digging into your flesh and forcefully pulling you back in. With that you would end up all tied up, and edge by those two shitheads. Malicious grins plastered on their faces.
If 'dressing like a depraved bitch in heat and act out,' was what you whole heartedly desired, then they would just have to mold you into a well-behaved little thing, one way or another.
Eventually, you'd be so thoroughly overwhelmed and overstimulated that the thought of defying them, or anything thought for that matter, would be far from your mind. But ‘hey, a win is a win!’
The day kicked off on a hot, particularly for your two Overlord boyfriends….
Valentino tenderly woke you with a kiss on your hair, while Vox used tender words to bring you back to reality.
"Y/N, sweetheart, time to wake up," Vox said, your body jerking awake. As you rubbed your eyes, Valentino left a trail of kisses from your shoulder to jaw. "We wouldn't want our sweet Y/N eating breakfast alone," he whispered into your ear.
You pulled away the covers, stood up, and let out a satisfied groan as you stretched. Continuing with your morning routine, you decided to spice things up when having taken a glance at your fully laid out outfit of the day.
Facing your fully clothed boyfriends on the heart-shaped bed, you sensually removed your pajamas, earning a whistle from Valentino and an open-mouthed stare from Vox.
Fully nude, you executed a reverse striptease, putting on your fresh clothes with the same sexed up attitude you just had when shedding yourself of your pyjama.
Once dressed, you completed your look, including jewelry, hair, skincare, and makeup. Slipping away to the kitchen, you avoided the customary morning kiss, leaving your lovers slightly irked.
Your deliberate avoidance continued at the breakfast table, and although they were busy, your actions left them with a slightly sour mood due to the absence of the usual morning ritual.
Meanwhile, you reveled in the small power trip of influencing the moods of these powerful men with such little actions.
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Several hours had elapsed, and it was now lunchtime. Knowing Val, he was likely already enjoying his meal, while your TV-headed boyfriend, Vox, was likely too absorbed in his usual surveillance to remember the existence of food.
Being the thoughtful partner you were, you whipped up something delicious and nutritious, heading to the underground watching room before Vox could realize his hunger and order his usual unhealthy fast food.
Despite his argument that the food he consumed you considered ‘shitty’ was quicker and simpler to get a hold of, you knew the toll it took on his energy, sleep, and mood swings. So once you became close enough to speak your mind, you had 'aggressively kindly' nudged him toward a better diet;
As the lift platform halted, holding a picnic basket, you walked the catwalk towards Vox's chair. Catching him fixated on the screens with no food in sight, you leaned in and playfully said, "boo!" prompting a high-pitched scream from Vox, earning a smirk from you and a groggy reaction from him.
However, his demeanor swiftly changed as he received the first kiss of the day from you and noticed the basket in your hand, realizing it was likely a meal you had prepared to share.
Grabbing the basket, he placed it on his desk and pulled you onto his lap by the hips. You both began eating, with you feeding him – a domestic sight only accessible to you and the other Vees.
As you continued to feed Vox, you couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him. You started grinding your hips against his lap, feeling his growing erection beneath you. Your hand slid up and down his thigh, sending electric shocks through his body. He groaned into his food, clearly enjoying the attention.
After you finished our meal, you stood up, playfully caressing the edge of his screen and smirking at the eager expression on Vox's face. "You know what, Voxy? You seem mighty stressed to me, and I feel it’s only right for me to do something about it, right?"
His eyes widened in anticipation, and you could see the hint of a blush on his TV screen. you leaned in close to his ear, your lips grazing the monitor as you whispered, "You wanted that, don’t you?. emphasizing your words by grinding against him once more.
Vox couldn't help but moan softly at the thought of what you had planned for him. His eyes darted around the screens, trying to find a way to distract himself from the tempting proposition, but that did nothing to help his heighten arousal.
As you began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, he bit his lip to stifle another moan. "I can't believe you're doing this right after lunch," he murmured, his voice trembling with desire. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that, right?"
You chuckled softly, a wicked glint in your eyes as you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. Your fingers deftly undid the final buttons and pulled his pants down, revealing his already hard member. A smirk graced your lips as you teased him by trailing your fingertips along the length of his cock.
Vox's breath hitched, his eyes closing tightly as he tried to maintain control. You leaned in closer, the warmth of your breath causing him to shiver. "You're so hard for me, Vox," you taunted, but soon got to the task ahead.
You eagerly took Vox's length into your mouth, you tongue tracing the vein that ran down the underside of his member. You sucked him diligently, your cheeks hollowing as you bobbed your head up and down, your eyes locked on his. Vox's fingers threaded through your hair, his breath coming in sharp gasps as the pleasure washed over him.
As the sensations built, his hips began to buck, his moans growing louder and more urgent. Just as he was about to reach his peak, you pulled back, a wicked grin on your face. Causing Vox to let out a dissatisfied whine.
So with a giggle, you stood up, you kissed the side of his monitor and quickly took your leave before he could fully register that you had left him panting and desperate.
As he regained his senses, his mood was certainly not the best,— let’s just say he was pissed when he was force to take care of the erection you had caused.
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Continuing with your day, it was now a quarter past four, and you knew Valentino was still shooting. With the same mischievous spirit you had when you visited Vox, you headed to Valentino’s studio.
Luck was on your side as they were on a 10-minute break, so Val wouldn’t be bothered by your sudden arrival. In fact, he seemed delighted to see you, welcoming you with a hug that involved all four of his arms.
In return for his affection, you gave him some of yours, expressing it with a soft, sweet, and brief kiss. But of course, the overlord of lust and depravity wasn’t satisfied with such a short gesture, especially considering the state you’d put him in since that morning with your little stunt.
With two arms propping you up and the others encircling you, he pulled you in closer, one hand lifting your chin to bring your lips together. And oh, what a kiss it was.
Your kiss was far from gentle; it was a collision of desire and intensity, fueled by primal instincts and raw passion. He drew you closer, if that was even possible, his hands gripping you fiercely as your lips met with a hunger that bordered on desperation. There was an urgency to your embrace, a need to consume each other completely. Your mouths moved hungrily against each other, teeth clashing and tongues dueling in a fierce battle for dominance—a battle that Valentino obviously won.
His touch was possessive, leaving trails of fire in its wake as he explored every inch of your skin with a roughness that sent shivers down your spine. You responded in kind, your nails digging into his back.
Your kiss was a whirlwind of passion and desire, leaving you both breathless and panting when you finally parted.
As he lowered you down, you felt slightly dizzy, ‘must be Val’s toxins’. It was then that you noticed some staff members had stopped their work just to watch you, and you couldn't help but shoot Valentino a glare after assessing the situation as ‘that bastard knew you were being watch but didn’t say shit so that his employee stopped, even a simple wave from him would’ve have done the trick’. However, he only chuckled in response.
Taking his place in his director's chair, he stared at you intently before patting his lap. “Won’t you stay with papi and watch? After all, you did spend lunch with Voxxy. Won’t you do this for me, cariño?” he asked, his request momentarily distracting you from your thoughts.
It took you a moment to comply, your mind still processing the mention of lunch with Vox. ‘Had Vox told him what you’d done? Probably not, knowing Vox wouldn’t admit to being played like a fiddle by you. Then how—oh yeah, Vox took a selfie while you were feeding him, and he likely sent it to Val.’
With that revelation out of your mind, you settled into Valentino’s lap, one of his arms around your waist while the other had already started traced patterns on your thigh.
As the shoot began, you decided that Valentino should also get some of your ‘special attention’. With that in mind, you started to roll your hips. However, Valentino was quick to stop you in your tracks, his hand on your waist drawing you closer while the one on your throat and another on your thigh roughly squeezed the flesh as a way to say ‘stop’.
You listened to his warning, for a moment... stopping for 5 minutes or so before starting again, earning a hitched breath from the tall moth. His hold became more aggressive, slightly bending forward to whisper in your ear, “You’re really testing my patience, mi amor, and I’d suggest you stop unless you want me to fuck you right here and there in front of everyone.”
But you replied coyly with, “I don’t know what you're talking about,” emphasizing your words with another roll of your hips.
Despite Valentino being a sex maniac, just like Vox, he had grown too possessive to let others see you in such an intimate position, not even as punishment. So his current threat was all bark and no bite, and you both knew it.
He quickly realized that you knew, which caused him to ‘tsk’ and sit back. The man was too prideful to admit you were affecting him to the point where he couldn’t focus on his work properly. So his plan was to wait it out, to wait until the end of the shoot so he could put you in your place.
But by now, you knew him and his work too well. So, 30 minutes before it was over, you got up, informing Val that you had to go on a ‘bathroom break’. Of course, he allowed it, playing the role of the unaffected and non-retaliating.
But the catch that Valentino hadn’t anticipated was, this wasn’t a bathroom break; you had just run away without him noticing, leaving him to take care of his hard one just like you had done with Vox.
You giggled as you sat on your bed, thinking about how he would react when the shoot finally ended and everything clicked. And since you were already long gone, for time efficiency, he would just move on to the next shoot instead of chasing after you.
After all, he was on a time crunch; he probably only had 20 minutes or so of a break to take care of himself, definitely not enough time to find you and fuck you.
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It was now 6 p.m., and you were out and about with Velvette, having grown close through your relationships with the two boys. She found you fun, and you could say the same about her. So it wasn’t out of the ordinary when she sent a text to each of them that she was taking ‘their bitch out to party’. As usual, she didn’t listen when they told her not to; she wanted to party with her bestie, and their boyfriends definitely weren’t going to stop her.
So there you were, clubbing hard, singing along loudly, dancing your ass off, and drinking in a manner that was definitely overindulgent, but who cared? You weren’t going to die from it.
As you were chatting it up with Velvette, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were met with quite the good-looking hellhound. He introduced himself as Marco and thought you were cute. He wanted to see if you could get drinks together, maybe exchange numbers. He was sweet and wasn’t forcing himself on you or anything, so you spoke honestly to him.
“I’m going to level with you, Marco,” you said. “Okay,” he replied.
“You seem like a very sweet hound, but I’m currently in a wonderful relationship with the loves of my life, or is it afterlife?—anyways, what I mean to say is thanks for the offer, but I can’t accept.” You rambled due to the alcohol already in your system, and Marco expressed that he understood and was happy for you.
But then an idea came to mind. “But could I actually ask you a favour, Marco?” you inquired.
“Sure, as long as it’s not too extravagant of an ask,” he replied.
“Never. Anywho, I was wondering if you’d be down to take a selfie with me, nothing too intimate, but you’d be holding me in it, like a really close hug. I want to tease my boyfriends, and that’ll definitely do the trick,” you told him.
He pondered for a second, then a “Sure, why not?” came out.
And so the selfie-taking proceeded. You followed through on your words, nothing but his hands around your waist. You knew that would get another rise from your ‘tv head and moth man’ when they saw your new Sinstagram post.
Were they going to do anything to Marco? No. You’d say something along the lines of ‘I’ll never forgive you’ and give them the cold shoulder if they did. Plus, they’d know this was just teasing, nothing more. If you had intended to make them furious, you would have kissed the guy.
Putting your phone down after posting the selfie with a couple of different pictures from the night, you soon felt it buzz. Looking at the notifications, they were texts from Vox and Valentino. But in your drunk and teasing mindset, you decided to ignore them, just shooting a glance at Velvette, which she understood meant ‘you can text them if they ask about me, but I won’t be doing it.’
She only rolled her eyes at that look but then chuckled at the thought of the state you probably had Valentino and Vox in, because those guys had some serious jealousy issues.
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9 p.m. had hit, and you and Velvette had decided you were good for the night. So, calling your driver, you waited by the curb.
“You know they’re going to fuck the shit out of you for that little picture,” she said before taking a hit of her vape.
“Oh, I’m counting on it. That’s why I already left both of them high and dry separately today,” you replied. She looked at you, surprised for a second, then burst out laughing.
“Bitch, you’re crazy! That’s why I like you, though.” With that said, the car had finally arrived, and in about 15 minutes, you were back at the tower.
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Velvette had shot you a teasing ‘good luck’ once you both had stepped out of the elevator on the last floor.
You took off your shoes before entering your room. Pushing the door open, you were met with your two boyfriends sitting on your bed, staring straight at you. They must have been waiting for your return.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence, Val. It’s our little professional photographer," Vox remarks, his tone laced with amusement and spite.
"Oh, indeed, Vox. It seems that truly adore the art, don't they? So much so that they’ll snap a pic at any given opportunity, regardless of who they're doing it with." Val adds, his words carrying a subtle innuendo.
"Oh please, it was just a hug," you retorted dismissively as you turned away from them, starting to change out of your outing clothes.
"Just a hug? JUST A HUG?!!" Valentino's voice rose with indignation. "That mutt was practically fucking you!" he exclaimed. Despite Valentino's tendency to exaggerate, he was jumping to the guns, Marco hadn’t even been groping you, but you refrained from pointing that out.
"That hellhound shouldn’t have been in your vicinity, point blank," Vox added, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Valentino's statement.
"You two are such babies, you should stop fussing over a little selfie already," you scoffed, turning your head to look at them as you removed your last article of clothing.
Retrieving a towel from your drawer, you mentally decided it was time for a shower. In their minds, however, they were planning to make you pay for that picture and for teasing them earlier in the day.
In your mind, you were now going to take a shower, seeking solace in the calming embrace of warm water. However, in their minds, they had already made a silent pact to exact retribution for the audaciousness you had when snapping that picture and your teasing behavior throughout the day.
As you reached for the bathroom door handle, on of Valentino's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards the bed. His grip was firm but not painful, leaving no doubt that you were not going anywhere until they had made their point clear. Vox stood up and joined him, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he towered over you.
"We'll show you what happens when you play with fire, brat," Valentino growled, his voice low and threatening. Vox nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring Valentino's anger.
Before you could protest or plead, they had you pinned down on the bed, your struggles met with their iron grip. Their faces hovered over yours, their anger palpable in the way their eyes burned with intensity.
Vox and Valentino started discussing strategies on how best to punish you for your transgressions, right in front of you.
"We need to teach them a lesson," Vox declared,"Something... memorable."
"Agreed," Valentino chimed in, tightening his grip on you as you tried to shuffle around "Something... painful."
"Yes, yes, something painful," Vox echoed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "We need to make sure they knows who the boss is here."
In unison, they nodded ominously, their plans solidifying rapidly.
"This is what happens when you toy with us, bébé~" Valentino hissed, his free hand reaching for a belt that he kept nearby. The sound of leather hitting flesh echoed through the room as he brought it down on your thighs, the sting of each blow making you yelp in pain and surprise.
Vox watched with approval, his own arousal growing as he saw the marks forming on your skin. He moved closer, his fingers tracing the lines that Valentino was creating.
"You see this, doll," Vox purred, his voice low and seductive, "you see what you make us do when you behave like a brat. We don’t like hurting you,” a lie. “but can’t just let you do whatever, we do not tolerate petty disobedience, I thought you’d knew that by now."
His fingers trailed down to your chest, playing your now perked nipples. You squirmed beneath their touch, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through your veins.
Valentino paused momentarily, the belt falling limply to the side. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered "Remember this, cariño. We may love you, but that doesn’t mean you got free reins to be a bratty ass bitch."
With that, he released you, stepping back to allow Vox his turn. The television-headed demon's gaze never left your face as he took the belt from Valentino, his eyes flickering with anticipation.
Vox cracked the belt across your ass, the sharp sting catching you off guard. You cried out, your body arching involuntarily as the pain seared into your skin. But then, an unexpected warmth spread through you, a strange mixture of pain and pleasure that you couldn't quite comprehend.
Valentino watched from the corner of the room, his eyes locked onto your reactions. As you writhed beneath Vox's hand, he began undressing, slowly revealing his muscular form. He wore nothing but a pair of black silk boxers that did little to hide his arousal.
Once naked, he walked over to you, his steps confident and assured. He picked up a pair of handcuffs from the nightstand and began to tie your hands behind your back, securing your mouvement firmly. As the cuffs tightened, a jolt of arousal was sent through you.
Vox continued spanking you, alternating between the belt and his open palm. Your skin turned a darker shade, a testament to your punishment. Yet, despite the pain, you couldn't deny the rush of lust pulsating through your veins.
Finally, Vox stopped spanking you, satisfied with the sight of your reddened cheeks. He stepped back, admiring his work, before whispering softly, "Such a bad little thing, aren't you? But don't worry, we won't leave you like this. We're going to give you what you deserve."
Valentino knelt beside you, his eyes glinting with desire. He gently stroked your hair, whispering soothing words into your ear, "It's okay, amorcito. It's all going to be okay. Just let go."
Their words, combined with the physical pain, pushed you further into a state of heightened arousal. You felt your body responding to their dominance, your core throbbing in anticipation.
Valentino stood up, motioning for Vox to join him. They exchanged a heated glance, their shared desire evident. With a nod, they moved towards you, Vox taking your legs while Valentino held your torso. Together, they positioned you on your knees, your ass lifted invitingly.
Valentino reached for a bottle of lubricant from the nightstand, pouring a generous amount into his hand. He rubbed it on your entrance, preparing you for what was to come. Your breathing hitched as his cool touch met your heated core, sending shivers down your spine.
Quickly after, Vox moved behind you, his erection hard and ready. He positioned himself at your entrance, pausing briefly to grab your hair and look into your eyes. There was a mix of fear and lust in your gaze, and he smirked, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you.
With a swift thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. You gasped, your body adjusting to the invasion. His movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust pushing deeper inside you.
Valentino watched intently, his cock equally hard and ready. He practically couldn't wait for his turn, but first, he wanted to see the full effect of their domination on you.
Vox increased his pace, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. His grip on your hair tightened, his other hand holding onto your hip for support. Each time he slammed into you, your breasts bounced enticingly, drawing Valentino's attention.
"Look at them, Vox," Valentino said, his voice thick with desire. "See how much they wants this. How much they needs this."
Vox grunted in response, his movements becoming more erratic. He pulled you back, using your hair to lift your head, and you found yourself looking straight into his cyan-colored eyes.
"That's it, whore," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. "Take it like a good little slut."
Valentino joined in, running his hands over your body, pinching your nipples roughly. His touch was both tender and cruel, eliciting moans from you.
"You like this, don't you?" he taunted, his voice a soft purr. "You love when we’re mean to you, bitch~"
Vox then pulled you up into a chokehold, applying pressure to your throat. You struggled slightly, but the combination of pain and pleasure was overwhelming. Your body arched involuntarily, your climax approaching rapidly.
The pressure on your throat intensified, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Your vision blurred, your world narrowing down to the sensations coursing through you. Everywhere Vox touched felt electrified, every thrust of his hips driving you higher.
"Cum for me, bitch," Vox snarled, his voice hoarse with desire. Valentino continued to play with your nipples with his top hands, as his bottom ones took care your front.
Your release was imminent, the pressure building within you threatening to burst. You mewled, your muscles clenching around Vox, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave.
As you climaxed, Vox continued to choke you, his movements becoming wilder. You felt him swell inside you, his soon reached his climax.
Finally, he came, roaring your name as he filled you completely. He held you in the chokehold for a few more seconds before releasing you, allowing you to catch your breath.
Your breathing was hieratic as you felt your body plot down against the mattress. But to bass for you they didn’t intend on letting you rest.
Valentino stepped up behind you, his erection still throbbing. Without warning, he entered you from behind, his movements slow and deep. The sensation of being filled so so only after your first climax was quite the overstimulating one.
Without warning, Valentino pushed your head into the mattress, your face buried in the soft fabric. You gasped, feeling the sudden loss of control. He spanked you again, the sting mixing with the lingering ache from earlier.
"That's right, bitch," he growled, his voice rough. "Stay quiet. Take what I give you."
His thrusts became faster, his hips slamming into you with each movement. You could feel Vox's semen leaking out slightly, only to be replaced by Valentino's relentless pursuit.
Each strike of his hand echoed through the room, punctuating the sounds of your moans and their grunts. The pain and pleasure merged, creating a symphony of submission.
Valentino's fingers dug into your hips, gripping tightly as he pounded into you. Your body responded, moving with his rhythm, your inner walls milking him with each thrust.
Despite the pain, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of being owned, of being taken by these powerful beings. Their dominance over you was absolute, and it excited you beyond measure.
As Valentino neared his own climax, he tightened his grip on your hips, his thrusts becoming more frantic. Your body shook beneath him, your second orgasm building quickly.
"Come for me, slut," he demanded, his voice thick with desire. "Let me hear you scream!" He said as he pulled your hair, contradicting his previous statement about wanting you to be quite.
You complied, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your entire body convulsed, your nails digging into the mattress as you screamed his name.
Valentino roared, his release pulsing inside you. He stayed still for a moment, catching his breath before withdrawing slowly.
As he stepped away, you collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily. The room was silent, save for your labored breaths.
Before you could recover, Valentino had wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. He entered you from behind, his size stretching you wide. Your body trembled, your nerves overwhelmed by the dual invasion.
Following suit, Vox positioned himself in front of you, his erection already hard once more. Without warning, he slid back into you, his length filling you from the front. You cried out, your body protesting the overstimulation.
"Shhh, calm down ‘bébé’," Valentino whispered in your ear, his voice husky with desire. "We're not done with you yet."
Vox started thrusting, his movements slow and measured. Valentino followed his lead, their rhythms meshing perfectly. Your body bounced between them, caught in a vice of pleasure and pain.
They didn't care about your limits, your protests falling on deaf ears. Instead, they reveled in your discomfort, their own desires guiding their actions.
Their faces were etched with concentration, their eyes locked onto yours. They seemed almost hypnotized, lost in the act of taking you.
As they continued to thrust into you, their movements became more synchronized. Their bodies moved as one, their hips slapping against each other. In sync, they leaned in, capturing each other's lips in a fierce kiss.
Tongues tangling, their passion was palpable. It was a display of obsession and possession, leaving you breathless.
But their focus wasn't solely on each other. With one hand, Valentino gripped your hair, twisting it gently. Vox reached around, caressing your chest roughly.
Their kiss broke, Vox shifting his gaze to you. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue delved deep, claiming you as his own.
When he pulled away, Valentino took over, his lips crushing against yours in a brutal kiss. His hands wandered, cupping your face, and then moving down to your neck.
Between kisses, they continued to fuck you, their bodies merging with yours. Their actions spoke volumes - you belonged to them, and you should know better than to fuck with them.
With each kiss, your body grew more sensitive, your mind clouded with lust. Vox and Valentino fed off your reactions, their desire escalating.
"That's it, baby," Valentino murmured against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "Let go for us." He said as he let his hands wonder down to your front to increased the sensation.
Vox nodded, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Yes, cum for us."
Between kisses, they increased their pace, their movements relentless. Your climax built quickly, your body shaking beneath them.
Finally, you came, screaming into Vox's mouth. Their thrust not relenting as they chased their own orgasm.
As Vox and Valentino neared their climaxes, their thrusts grew more desperate. Sweat dripped from their bodies, mingling with yours. Their gazes locked, a silent agreement passed between them.
With a roar, Valentino thrust deep inside you, his release spilling within you. At the same time, Vox claimed you once more, his cum joining lover’s.
You all panted heavily as they remained inside you, enjoying the aftermath of their conquest.
In the silence that followed, you lay between them, exhausted and spent.
Some ‘I love you’s were shared as you all drifted off, it looks like showering will a ‘tomorrow’ type of task…
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pigeonpeach · 5 months
Text
More Arlecchino Husbandry!
Cw: implied violence or possible violence: FMAB reader! Reader is called mother! Slight yandere themes (not full on though)
summary: continuation of Arlecchino Husbandry with more of a domestic focus
To say the children were estatic to know you would be a permanent member of the house hearth and you are officially their mother is a understatement. They threw a party. Even those you haven’t raised and were already grown when you arrived can recognize your importance both to their siblings and to their father: needless to say you essentially have alot of bodyguards now. Each of those children are determined to keep you safe, both out of devotion and gratitude and because it was Arlecchino’s orders to do so. And so on.
As for Arlecchino she’s quite happy to have you. She keeps you in her office on your downtime, sat nicely on her lap as she goes through paperwork so your presence can keep her calm. Occasionally she’ll press a kiss to your neck. In moments like these you two often don’t speak, rather you may be knitting or reading s book or writting ideas down for fun activities for the kids.
Arlecchino despite her deep affections fory you however is a possessive lover at her core. You’re just so fragile in the grand scheme of things. The children are protectors but if another harbinger decided to pursue you there is little they could do besides awkwardly stand by you. She knows her colleagues too well. She knows they’ll see your big heart as a weakness of hers. She knows you’re her weakness now, and in the eyes of the other harbingers it’s something they could exploit if necessary. So she simply refuses to bring you around them. Besides very few are even good company. The only harbinger you might see is Childe when he is visiting fontaine. He’s friendly to you but respectful knowing the Knave likely wouldnt like it if he was flirty with her beloved. Even so all it took was seeing him in your general direction to make her tense. Shooting him a dirty look as she quickly pulled you to her side and cut the conversation short.
In that case Childe just got glared at and scolded because he is a harbinger, she can’t kill him for something so minor. But if it was someone else who doesn’t have that sort of protection then there’s no guarantee she won’t. I wouldn’t describe this as yandere but simply a part of her job. Again you are her weakness, she cannot risk people possibly taking you from her or using you to get to her. Because that is a legit fear for her to have. So everywhere you go a underling accompanies you. Often the twins. Lynette and Lyney because they’re quite sociable and its easy for you to forget they’re your bodyguards. The children actually are very eager to accompany you because such trips are often like a day out with their mom. Its not uncommon you’ll treat them to lunch and or go shopping with them. This actually works as well because it helps you blend in easily amongst the crowd too. Sometimes you’ll bring one of the actual children with you as a fun activity to reward them for hard work. Often times you take them to get some toys or something special.
These trips are great as well, your motherly demeanor towards Lyney and Lynette often does scare away suitors but if it doesn’t Lyney is quick to intervene. And if the suitor gets aggressive from their rejection then its nothing they can’t handle. If the guards aren’t available then they could always just… kill them you know. Granted you often discourage that with the excuse of wanting to avoid legal troubles. But its a possibility.
Arlecchino herself hardly takes you to balls, she is fiercely loyal to you still, even refusing to dance with others for respect for you. This is both because the kids don’t like when you leave, and again: she doesn’t want you to become a target or too infamous because of her. She wants to keep you safe and protected.
As for gifts you can trust she won’t let you down there. She is a incredibly observant person. She knows the exact flavors, styles, items, and colors you would like. She studies your tastes diligently. It also helps she has dozens and dozens of little informants who also know your tastes. If she notices you seem overworked she books you a luxurious spa session. If she notices you’re a bit insecure them she’ll make it a point to hold you and kiss each curve and crevice of your skin. She knows you don’t have extravagant tastes but you do like things of quality and meaning. And her gifts do have meaning. If you like knitting then she’ll purchase a set of the most soft and vibrant wool. If you like reading then she’ll keep an eye on exclusive or high demand books to get you. if you’re a artist then you can guarantee you’ll never be short on paints and ever work will be framed and displayed proudly.
Also in terms of gifts you are utterly spoiled not just by your husbandwifey but your kids. They bring you trinkets and souvenirs from across the world. Often based on things that remind them of you.
Arlecchino however is a busy woman. As a harbinger she deals with stressful situations and stressful meetings. And as her new bride you do have the expectation of tending to her. My advice is to simply let her lay her head on your shoulder or lap. Embrace her gently and don’t ask for details. More often then not she cannot tell you what exactly has happened but it’s usually frustration from dealing with the other harbingers. Usually the males. You’ve heard her grievances and slander of each male at this point. If you really want to help her relax then just smile softly and nod along. Your compliance and obedience is a well needed relief to her. Then tell her good news of the kids, how their skills have improved, etc.
When you’re upset on the other hand, maybe shaken up from a failed kidnapping/assassination attempt you can bet she’ll come to you quickly. She’s wiling to ditch a meeting if she thinks its that severe. Before she gets to you however, you can bet the kids will also comfort you. Often holding you and fiercely protecting you. When she gets there they leave to give you two privacy and to stand outside to make sure no one comes by. Upon which she will hold you tighter than you’re used to her. Her nails almost digging into your skin as she breathes heavily. She waits till you’re collected to ask for details and assures you the perpetrator will not be spared or shown a slight of mercy. All those involved will be hunted down and eliminated. Until then she will personally keep you by her side. With a voice surprisingly shakey, a sound only you will hear and ONLY you: she proclaims her utter devotion to you. She proclaims that she loves you in a soft voice. This softness and weakness is a rare sight, its only done to comfort you and when she’s quite alarmed herself.
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
Text
Your opinion isn’t part of the recipe, Sergeant.
Synopsis: After a successful mission, you and the boys decide to spend a day at the park, celebrating with a picnic. Ghost is barbecuing with Price while Soap and Gaz are annoying the living hell out of them. You? You’re looking at the havoc taking place in front of you.
Relationships: 141 x GN!Reader / Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader (brief and near the end)
Word count: 1,176
Notes:
I’ve had this image in my head for quite a while, and I wanted to put it in writing.
There’s a scene involving a sausage. If any of you filthy minds associate it with anything other than what it really is, I swear to Freud, I’ll grab you by the ear and drag you to the naughty corner. 
Platonic and fluffy
Want more?
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It’s amazing how they haven’t ripped each other’s heads off yet. 
You all get along so well on missions, that you wonder if it’s the military institution that makes you so well-behaved and orderly. Because what you’re witnessing right now is nothing more than a circus.
You’re sitting on the picnic bench, sipping an ice-cold beer and munching on some thinly sliced carrots you prepared at home. You sprained your ankle on the last mission, and it’s making it difficult for you to participate in anything happening around you. Thank God, you think to yourself.
Soap and Gaz are playing football about twenty metres away from you, which is dangerously close, given the velocity with which they kick the ball to each other. They’ve already hit the table once, launching empty beer cans into the air and shouting “STRIKE!” as if they invented foot bowling. Ghost gave them the death stare and Price politely asked them to keep “the fuck away from anything alive, especially when it’s already injured.”
Ghost is barbecuing. He’s wearing that stupid birthday present you all got him—a tactical vest shaped like an apron with the word “chef” written at the top. It had the same loops a conventional military vest had for attaching pouches for bullets, knives, and walkie-talkies. The loops on that apron, however, were used for organising one’s tools, sauces, and spices while barbecuing. It was a funny gift, and he smiled when he opened it, but you never expected him to wear it. Look at him now, rocking that bad boy as if he was the one who chose it.
Price is standing next to him with a beer and a cigar in his hands. He’s looking at the grill but not touching anything. Ghost clarified that if anyone else touches it, we will eat their fingers along with the sausages. And, even if he didn’t mean the threat, you wouldn’t dare to put his abilities to the test. Especially after seeing what he’s capable of doing at work.
You try to eavesdrop on their conversation, but Soap and Gaz’s shouts drown it out. An F-16 would pass over your head right now, and you’d still hear Soap screaming, “That didn’t count; it was out!”. But, despite the chaos, you can make out some words. They’re reminiscing about the good old days, talking about their first deployment together, their comrades, and only using salt and pepper on steaks.
Price is Ghost’s companion throughout... everything. Whether that’s on a mission or a day out. He can’t seem to bear the entropy that the other two are causing, and he’s not comfortable talking to you yet. Price is as calm and talkative as Ghost desires. Or, perhaps, Price knows what Ghost wants.
Soap and Gaz appear exhausted from football and return to the picnic area. Gaz sits across from you, apologising for being “too sweaty,” and you start laughing. You’ve wiped the blood off of that guy during an enemy attack, and yet, he worries about sweat. 
Soap, on the other hand, isn’t much of an etiquette expert. He’s creeping up on the grill, and Ghost threatens to mark him with the spatula if he gets closer. “I’ve already salted the steaks; I don’t need your sweat,” he says.
Soap ignores his warnings and stands there, hands on the sides of his hips, looking at the grill. He gives unsolicited advice about the cooking time and when to flip the pork chops. Ghost tells him his opinion isn’t part of the recipe but turns the pork chops anyway.
Gaz murmurs that he’s hungry, and you offer him a carrot. He makes a disgusted face and asks Ghost—who is taking his sweet time with cooking—when the food will be ready. Ghost then turns to Price, warning him to get a grip of him before he does, and dares Gaz to come close to see for himself. You smirk and nudge him to go, but he shakes his head, telling you he hasn’t gone crazy just yet.
At some point, Ghost becomes distracted by something Price says and leaves the spatula next to the grill. Soap seizes the opportunity and uses the spatula to poke at the meat. Ghost notices him, but as Soap attempts to run away, he catches him by his maw-hawk and draws him closer. Instead of hazing him, he gently touches his shoulder. He explains why pressing on meat while cooking drains it of its juices. Soap crosses his arms in front of his chest and nods like a student.
Price takes up the football and challenges the two sergeants to a game so they’d leave Ghost alone. He says two against himself, and they make a snide remark about his age, saying he smoked an entire cigar and drank five cans of beer. In response, he throws the ball up and shoots it midair with his foot, demonstrating his abilities. Soap and Gaz run after it like dogs playing fetch, and Price joins them.
Ghost turns to face you. He asks if you’re okay, how’s your ankle, and if you’re enjoying the “rabbit food.” You tell him that everything is fine and smile at him. He drapes a towel over his shoulder and gets a fork and knife. He cuts a piece of sausage and hands it to you, whispering not to tell the others. You take the sausage off the fork, thank him, and pop it into your mouth. He looks at you with curiosity and concern as if trying to judge his creation based on your facial expressions.
“It’s delicious, Ghost.” You compliment him, and he puts his hand in his apron pocket, standing taller than before. When you ask him how he made it, he begins reciting every detail of the recipe as if it were a poem he wrote by heart.
He wipes his brow with a towel and whistles with his fingers for the three self-proclaimed MVPs to end their match because the food is ready. The sergeants bolt, and the captain pants in exhaustion. “It’s that fucking cigar,” Gaz says, and Price reminds him that he beat “the living shite” out of both of them in that match.
The four of you sit down and invite Ghost to join. But he refuses, claiming that the grime from the meat is still fresh and now’s the perfect time to clean it off the grill. He encourages you to begin without him.
You start eating, complimenting Ghost’s cooking as you go. He tries to be humble, but he looks so proud of himself. Proud of being able to provide in ways other than giving orders, shouting, pulling triggers, and hurling knives. He enjoys feeding others, even if it means cleaning up afterwards. He might not be full of food, but he’s full of joy, and that faint smile on his face is a dead giveaway, as he cleans the barbecue grill.
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gretagerwigsmuse · 7 months
Text
rocketman: part i - it's just my job five days a week
Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw is on a three month special detachment in the pacific and the holidays have never felt lonelier for either of you. it's just three months, it'll be fine, right?
OR you and bradley write each other 159 emails
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k
Warnings: 18+, explicit language, suggestive dialogue, bradley needs to remember this is a government email server...(okay yes, i am perfectly aware that our esteemed lieutenant commander would probably get kicked out of the navy for some of these emails…that being said, i also don’t particularly care! we’re playing fast and loose with the time stamps too because i may be smart, but math has never been a strong suit of mine!) enjoy the companion playlist! rest of the series can be found here!
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12/17 @ 6:19am
I miss you already and I haven’t even left the parking lot. I’m still in my car typing this after having stayed for probably far too long watching your C-40 take off (like people were staring at me I was there so long)(and, yes, I looked up the name of the plane). Pete asked me if I wanted to get breakfast with him, but I said no. Felt too lost. Plus, I need to get ready for work. We’re going to get dinner on Wednesday before I head up to Berkeley Thursday morning, though!
Hope you have a safe transport and settle onboard quickly. I left you something in your duffle bag (yes, it’s safe to open around other people…head out of the gutter, Bradshaw).
Love you and stay safe, x
12/18 @ 5:46pm 
Just dropped off the gifts at the Junior League for Caroline’s adopt a child thing. She was completely in her element (they gave her a clipboard and a bullhorn!), though she did say we went wayyy too over the top. But little Carter asked for all that stuff! We couldn’t just not get it all for him? She also appreciated your wrapping skills, very impressed with the bows and tight corners. I met a couple of her friends there, which was nice and they invited me to stay for drinks (the prosecco was flowing…), but I wanted to head home. 
I miss you so much already, it feels weird not going over to your place after work and making dinner and prepping lunch together - and it’s only been two days. I know you’re on a comms blackout for the next couple days, so I’m just gonna keep sending these so you’ll have a bunch to read all at once.
All my love, x
12/19 @ 11:48am
My brother and Lauren decided to come out here for Christmas after all! My dad was so excited when he called me, but I think Mary’s a little less enthused. Feels like shit knowing we were the backup option for them. Apparently, Lauren’s mom is sick and the whole house is in disarray (not hard in that family…) so my dad is paying for them to fly in from New York tomorrow. I think it’ll be nice, we’ll almost have a full set (baring you, of course, my darling rocketman), so the house won’t be as lonely. Do you think we’ll get to talk on Christmas or Christmas Eve? You should be getting a package soon (‘twas preemptively sent!) and are under strict orders not to open it until Christmas Eve, buddy!
Going to dinner with Pete tonight, I’ll let you know how it goes. Amelia’s coming with us, but I don’t know about Penny? I hope they like the gifts we got them. I’m going to stop by your place, do a once over, and make sure the tree is ready for Pete to take, etc. before I leave on Thursday.
Love you and talk soon! x
12/20 @ 7:03am
House looked good! In my seat on the plane. If my morals were shakier, I would 1000% have taken Max up on his offer to fly me up to Berkeley. But alas! Climate change is real and private jets account for 20x as many carbon emissions as commercial planes, so I am up at the ass-crack of dawn for this 7:15am flight. I’ll message you when I land, love you!
12/20 @ 9:04am
Just landed - easy flight. Now to find my dad in arrivals…
Love you, talk when you get the chance! x
12/23 @ 4:45am
Hey sweetheart! Back online and all settled in. I’m bunking with Payback and we actually have a pretty decent layout. He graciously offered to give me the bottom bunk, due to my ‘geriatric status.’ Honestly, I’m just glad I don’t have to sleep in the bunk room with the ensigns and rest of the crew. I forgot how noisy it is being on an aircraft carrier, which makes Payback’s snoring surprisingly pleasant. I’m glad he and Bob are with me. The rest of this squadron’s from Lemoore and Bob knows some of them. It’s interesting seeing him and Payback fly together, but they mesh really well.
Glad Mav is there to keep an eye on you. 
Okay, I had way too much fun picking out all those presents, so I really hope Carter loves them too. And please tell me you have a picture of Caroline yelling into the bullhorn? I can truly think of nothing scarier than Caroline Calloway ordering the young women of San Diego county around like Santa’s chief elf. And speaking of gifts, I loved my pictures. The one from the Christmas party is my favorite, did Fanboy take it? I saw him running around with his Pentax. When the hell did you have time to print it? I’ve got it hanging up in my bunk so I can see it every night. 
I still don’t understand why you don’t fly into Oakland instead of SFO? Like I get it, you’re not a Spirit or SW girl, but kid….it’s an hour and forty minute flight? Live a little. And I think it’ll be nice having your brother and Lauren around for Christmas. How many people do you think it’ll be? I always loved seeing Christmas Eves with large families in movies and stuff, all the chaos and whatnot? But it’s just gonna be you five Christmas Day? I’ve heard rumblings that I might be first in line for a Facetime on Christmas Eve, so save some time for me too, kid. I’ll let you know for sure in a couple days. 
Okay, think we’re all caught up now. Talk soon and love you so much,
Your Bradley
12/23 @ 9:08am
Bubs! I read your email four times since I woke up, I can’t stop smiling. I’m glad you’re all settled in - Payback’s snoring and ageism aside haha. How’s the food? Do you want earplugs? A sleep mask? Are earplugs allowed for sleeping? What if you need to get up right away and you can’t hear? I could send you a white noise machine? Or is there a fear of hacking with that? I should’ve done more research on this before you left. Tell me if you need anything, I’ll send it out express! Oh, I’m just so happy to hear from you. Keep me posted!
Lots of love, x
12/23 @ 8:53pm
You and me, hot date tomorrow night at 11:45pst - don’t be late. (And look cute.)
Your Bradley
12/23 @ 8:55pm
I’ll be there 😉 Love you, x
12/25 @ 9:56am
Bradley Bradshaw you absolute sneak! How on Earth did you pull a Christmas miracle off!?! Mary said she had no clue, so I’m extremely impressed you got my dad to keep that secret!? I was totally not expecting another present from you? The cooking lessons and apron were more than enough - to say nothing about moving in together!?! I love the bracelet so much, you have no idea. I started crying when I opened it! Mary took a video, which I’m sure she’ll send you. God, Bradley? You didn’t have to do that! It’s perfect, it’s like we’re locked together. I’m gonna wear it everyday. Please email me later if you get the chance! 
(Also, Lauren looked really jealous 😉 my brother was sweating)
Love you and Merry Christmas Rocketman! x
12/25 @ 11:38am
Ummm, not sure what you’re talking about, kid? That sounds like something Santa would do? Probably heard about how good you’ve been this year? x
12/25 @ 11:40am
Thank you, I love it so much and wish I could give you the biggest hug and kiss right now. I’ll have an extra slice of babka for you tonight, talk soon and Merry Christmas, Bradley! Love you x
12/27 @ 4:49am
I miss sleeping next to you. Whenever I can’t sleep, I think about the way you looked at me in the living room after our Christmas party. You looked so happy and I hate that I have to leave you for all our firsts. First Christmas, first New Year’s, first Valentine’s Day. And god, sweetheart, you’re so fucking gorgeous it makes me want to lose my mind sometimes. Always thinking about you, Bradley 
12/27 @ 8:38am
I miss sleeping next to you, too (especially since your body is like a furnace and you hold me close when I get cold). And I know you being away during the holidays is hard, but look at it this way - we’ll just have our firsts next year. Next year will be our first Christmas, first New Year’s, first Valentine’s Day together, not an ocean apart. We have all the time in the world, rocketman. Love you today and every day x
12/29 @ 6:02pm
There’s already so many things I’m dying to tell you and stories about the squadron we’re teaming up with, but the Navy will have my ass if I give away too many details so I’m just going to leave it at this: are we sure Max doesn’t have a twin on another continent? Take that as you will. What’re your plans for New Year’s? Your Bradley
12/30 @ 9:20am
Sorry for the delayed response! A minor issue with my brother and my dad that I won’t bore you with had the whole house in a tizzy. Thankfully, he and Lauren are gone even though my dad still won’t tell me what the issue was? Anyway! God, I wish I could hear more about Max’s twin? I am honestly kind of scared about knowing there’s a Max doppelgänger in the Navy (jokes!). For New Year’s, I’m going to this party with Mary and dad in the city, it’s at this fancy venue and I have a cute black dress! It’s very different for me and I wish you were here to see it! I’ll have to wear it again. Message me when it’s the New Year your time! Love you! x
01/01 @ 12:09am
Happy New Year, sweetheart! They had a little party for the officers - we even got cake and Bob snuck me and Payback seconds somehow. It’s always the quiet ones you gotta look out for. You absolutely need to send me pictures of you in that dress, I can’t wait to see it on you in person someday. Hope you have a great time with your dad and Mary, give them my best. Love you and again Happy New Year! 
Your Bradley
01/01 @ 12:01am
Happy New Year, Bradley!!! You got cake!! You broke some rules! I approve! Milk them for all the cake they’re worth! I’ll send some pics of the three of us and one just for you big boy 😉 Talk soon and love you so so much! x
01/01 @ 10:59am
Had a late start! Here are the pics from last night! Try and sneak some more cake xx
[mary_and_dad_being_annoying.jpg]
[me.jpg]
01/02 @ 6:12am
You know you labeled the pictures wrong…luckily no one was behind me…
01/02 @ 9:04am
Who? Me? I would NEVER! (Just trying to keep you on your toes.) Hope the flying is going well and you’re staying safe, B! Love you!
01/03 @ 8:00pm
Yeah, it’s going well. It’s so different flying on the open ocean after so long? Last time was in September when I went to Hong Kong. The desert is cool, don’t get me wrong, but seeing the clouds and the water together is unreal. The pink and purple clouds remind me of you (sorry, that was lame). You still gotta let me take you up, kid. I’ve heard Mav is trying to convince you, but you gotta let me be the one. Can’t trust just anyone with my girl. Love B
01/04 @ 10:13am
Bradley…he’s practically your father, I’m pretty sure you can trust him to take me up in a plane, you silly boy. Not that I’m saying you won’t be my first…but come on! And it’s not lame. I like that the pink and purple clouds remind you of me. Every time I see a plane I send a little call out for your safety. Gotta keep you safe, rocketman! Talk soon and love you! x
01/06 @ 4:45pm
My parents just dropped me off at the airport and no matter how many times I leave them, I always cry. I think the only time I didn’t cry when I left their house was when you were with me over Thanksgiving. You always make it better, bubs.
They’re coming down in a couple weeks to help me start packing, anything in the house you wouldn’t want them to see while dropping off boxes? I can still bring my old bed, etc for the guest room, right?
All my love, x
01/06 @ 9:58pm
I think I get that, having you around this time makes it different. I’ve never had anyone to really write to while I’ve been away before. Sure, I talked to my grandparents when they were still around and my aunts and uncles, Nat, Ice, and a couple others, but not like this. And I don’t ever want to not feel like this again. 
I’m an open book, kid. Ain’t got nothing to hide. And yeah, anything like that feel free to bring with you for the guest room or office. It was the bed, nightstands, and dresser and then your couch for the office, yeah? We can get new bedding and pillows for it if you want? I’m on comms blackout for a couple days, so message me whenever you want so I can read them all when we’re back online.
Your Bradley
01/06 @ 10:07pm
Perfect! Love you and stay safe, rocketman.
01/06 @ 10:09pm
Love you too, kid.
01/09 @ 6:11pm
Bradley, I don’t mean to alarm you, but there was a raccoon in your garage! Scratch that, a FAMILY of raccoons!??! I’m sure Mr Harrington was ready to call the cops when he heard my scream. They’re so cute, but also terrifying at the same time? So, I called Pete and he came right over, a true knight in shining armor! Amelia and I did a THOROUGH sweep of the house to make sure they were relegated to the garage. Pete got them out safe and sound with a random tennis racket and your 4 iron, but somebody’s coming tomorrow to check on how they got in there. And I know they aren’t hurting anyone, but I just don’t want there to be any issues later on? (The babies were actually so cute and reminded me of my cat growing up, Porter.) Anyway! Enough drama for tonight, I hope that gets a laugh out of you - talk soon!
Love you! x
01/10 @ 8:05am
Well, the exterminator got here around 7:30 and sprayed all this stuff and blocked the hole in the crawl space of the garage. He showed me pictures and let me tell you, there was quite the nest up there. These raccoons were living large over the holidays. 
01/12 @ 5:21pm
Okay! I’m in the parking lot, waiting for my first cooking class to start. Is it weird I’m a little nervous? I hope everyone else’s skill level is similar, I don’t like feeling behind. I brought my new apron, ironed it and everything. I feel a little like Ina Garten, isn’t she just divine? Okay, okay, I’m going in now! I’ll let you know how it goes! Thanks again for getting me these xx
01/12 @ 7:03pm
I feel so tired? Like my hand cramped a little bit? We started off the class with knife skills, which we’re going to do every week and then made this “simple” egg dish, which was NOT simple and I overcooked the egg. Ina would be so disappointed. Alas! Onto next week. Love you!
01/15 @ 9:12pm
Bradley you’re not going to BELIEVE what just happened on Succession. My heart is POUNDING? Do you think if I called and asked really nicely the Navy would get an HBO subscription for everyone? That is what I would like my tax dollars to go towards. Can you get me a direct line to someone in charge please? Love you!
01/16 @ 7:47am
Not to worry my little Barefoot Contessa, I have returned back to civilization (ie the internet), though am dismayed to have missed this mind blowing Succession episode? Has Perry Mason started back up again or will we be able to watch that together? 
Bob and I were in the gym earlier and he almost dropped a dumbbell on my foot, I swear my life flashed before my eyes. But I had a new PR on the bench press today, up to 285 pounds. Glad the cooking lesson went well though! What’s the class makeup like? x Bradley 
01/16 @ 9:04am
I’m glad you’re back online and safe! Perry Mason has not started yet, though I’m still certain you’re the only person under the age of 55 that watches it (I guess I should say we’re the only people under the age of 55 that watch it, but whatever). You’ve also missed a couple Top Chef episodes, but we can always binge this season later. 
There’s about 12 of us in the class and it’s pretty evenly split? Though there’s tragically this really annoying couple who were at the station next to me. I hope we get to change next week, I don’t think I can watch them feed each other food another week. 
And I’m still waiting for that direct line to the Navy, Bradshaw! Love you! x
01/1 6 @ 6:59pm
Wait, wait, how did I miss there? There was a WHAT in my garage? A raccoon? Multiple raccoons? We need to get a dog or a cat or something. x Bradley 
01/18 @ 7:02am
Bradley!! I know we talked about a trip once you got home (provided you still feel up for it with the transition and all), what if we went here? I was talking about our tentative plans with my dad and Mary before I went back to San Diego and they went to Punta Mita this past fall and LOVED it! What do you think? Love you!
01/18 @ 6:03pm
Holy shit! That looks absolutely amazing, yes I’d love to go! Can we afford that though? It looks expensive? xBradley
01/18 @ 6:05pm
YAY!! Ahh, I’m so excited you have no idea! I want to hug and kiss you so bad right now! We can fly for free since I have a bunch of AA points (thank you pwc) and then I have like a million Amex points, so it’s not full price!! 
01/18 @ 6:12pm
When you say ‘like a million’ do you actually mean a million or?
01/18 @ 6:14pm
Yes! I’ve had this card for like 15 years! My whole family does the pooling on it! It’s a drop in the bucket, promise! Plus, I always use my other card for work and that has a whole bunch of Bonvoy points on it, too. We could stay at one of those? I think there’s a St Regis next door?
01/18 @ 6:22pm
Sweetheart, I want to go, I just don’t want you to waste all those points on this. 
01/18 @ 6:26pm
What if we go for 6 nights instead of 9? Maybe no plunge pool? Or we could pay cash instead? And then I could get 6x the points from paying that way? So, really….the points just keep accumulating, we’ve got to use them sometime! The points can pay for the flights and the hotel and then we can split the room charges and incidentals 50:50?
Will you think about it? You don’t have to give me an answer right away and we can always pick another hotel? But if we want to go someplace in late March/early April, I think we should book soon with spring break and all? Not that I imagine many coeds will be staying at the Four Seasons, but you never know…
01/18 @ 6:33pm
You gotta send me a ppt on all this points stuff, you know math stresses me out. And no, I don’t think many coeds will be staying at the Four Seasons, kid. 
01/18 @ 6:37pm
Can I send you a dossier with everything!?! Even if you say no to that I’m doing it anyway ;) just promise me you’ll think about it, please? I’ll do whatever you want, Bradley <3
01/18 @ 6:40pm
Yes, please send the dossier my way henceforth, Moneypenny. 
And you’ll do whatever I want, huh? Might have to send you a dossier of my own now…
(But yes, I promise I’ll seriously consider everything. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to spend all this money to make me happy. I’d say we’d both be happy camping out on the beach, but I think that might be a security issue down there, plus neither of us like camping - anyway, you know what I mean.)
01/18 @ 6:43pm
Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!! Is this a dossier for my eyes only? What will M say!? I’ll send you mine if you send me yours?
(But seriously, thank you! I’ll send you more specifics tomorrow - like pricing and whatnot - and you can take a couple days to think it over. And thank you for clarifying the camping thing, I was worried for a second there.)
I love you so much rocketman and we’ll talk (email) tomorrow 
x Moneypenny 
01/18 @ 6:46pm
I’d say ‘sleep tight,’ but that’s a given considering you haven’t been fucked in a couple weeks. 
(Perfect, I genuinely am really excited about it, just want to make sure it works out for us both.)
Love you so much, kid 
Your Bradley
01/18 @ 6:58pm
Bradley Bradshaw!! You did not just say that over a government email server! 
Imissyourcocksobadlyit’sdrivingmeinsane
01/18 @ 7:01pm
Couldn’t help it. Plus, we both know it’s true. 
01/18 @ 7:04pm
Oh, shut up. Shut me up
01/18 @ 11:43pm
I’m sorry if I came off too strong about planning earlier, I might’ve gotten a little carried away and been a little too eager about planning something five days after you’re home from a three month detachment. If at any time before you come home or even right after you come home you don’t feel up to the trip, please please please tell me. I want to do something nice for you and give you a chance to truly relax, but I’d hate for it to come at a price. So, just let me know, okay? Say the word and we’ll push it, alright? I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, but tell me if it’s ever too much. I’ll always be here, promise. Love you x
[dossier_for_your_eyes_only.ppt]
01/19 @ 8:29am
Kid, no. I promise I’ll tell you. You know I love how excited you get planning things. I think I like it so much because you take care of it all. Sure, you ask for my opinion and what I want, but I just have to tell you one thing, one idea and you take care of it. 
Funny though, isn’t it? How it’s totally opposite in the other side of our relationship? You tell me one thing, one idea and I take care of all of it? Bet it’s hard for you not having someone around to do that for you? Maybe next time we Facetime we can talk more about that? x B
01/19 @ 10:11am
Luckily, I have a very creative imagination, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. 
See right now, I’m in my office, sitting at my desk, feeling so overwhelmed. It almost hurts how overwhelmed and frustrated I am. And you bust down the door, hair windswept like you’d flown to Del Mar, and you have that slutty flight suit on and I don’t even mind that you’re sweaty and gross. You smell absolutely divine and I rake my hands through your hair as you eat me out underneath my glass desk. I get a conference call, but you don’t stop the entire time. You like how squirmy and fussy I get, I can’t focus on the deliverable I’m working on for the client. You like that I can’t control myself, that I squeeze my thighs around your head. Eventually, you can’t take it anymore, your cock is aching so badly, and you need to fuck me on top of my desk. You’re so strong it almost breaks. You fuck me so good everyone in the office can hear me crying out for you. 
(actually, I’m on the couch, watching college football, but it’s more fun to imagine you fucking me in my office - see, creative imagination! Make sure you get a quiet room for that Facetime...)
Love x
01/19 @ 7:29pm
You think you’re funny, huh? You have any more of those thoughts, feel free to send them my way. ‘m taking out that picture you gave me for Christmas right now. How you taking care of yourself? My imagination isn’t as creative as yours. B
01/19 @ 7:40pm
Guess you’ll have to wait for our next Facetime…
x
01/20 @ 4:24pm
Your dad and Mary write me emails, you know. They aren’t as good correspondents as you are (for how could they possibly be, my dear?), but they check in about once a week or so. Mary sends me some of the articles she gives her students and talks about the show she’s watching with your dad. Your dad mainly talks about you. It makes me wish my parents were still around to do this stuff with me. Just checking in and writing emails and bragging about me to my girlfriend? How was yesterday’s class?
Your Bradley
01/20 @ 5:39m
I didn’t know they wrote you that often and I’m beyond embarrassed that my dad talks about me that much? But come on, Bradley…you have someone who does that, too? He’s about 5’8” (on a good day), looks great in a leather jacket, and just spent about two hours last weekend cleaning your gutters and telling me about how you won your high school’s debate scholarship?? Like how could you not tell me that? It’s literally one of the hottest things I’ve heard about you!
Class was good! They taught us a trick to cut onions without crying and one of the other girls complimented my apron! We’re doing meats next week, cutting, marinating, cooking, etc. and I’m excited!
01/20 @ 5:42pm
Oh gee, I bet it’s just awful for you to have Mav around all the time. Knight in shining armor…
01/20 @ 5:48pm
He’s not a bother! And it’s not all the time! We’re actually going to get lunch together on Saturday! It’s this new place on the water.
01/20 @ 5:50pm
Sounds like a cute little date! You’ll have to tell me how he is. Love you so much B
01/20 @ 5:55pm
I’ll keep ya posted, bubs! Love you!
01/22 @ 10:01am
Breaking news, kid. Your esteemed, naval aviator boyfriend is going to be on 60 Minutes at the end of February. Totally came out of left field, but I couldn’t say anything until they finished filming. It’s about the Navy in the Pacific and “the lost art of shipbuilding.” They even rigged up a camera on my plane and everything, it was so cool. I’ve been dying to tell you, but again couldn’t say anything until it was official. I probably won’t be on it long since they interviewed the Admiral and Pac Fleet Commander for most of it, but yeah, Payback and Bob and I will be on with my girl Norah. I made sure I had enough sunscreen on so I was camera ready at all times. Love you B
01/22 @ 10:09am
YOU’RE FUCKING SHITTING ME????? Oh my god, Bradley! That’s amazing! Margie even ran into my office to see what made me shriek! I am TOTALLY having a viewing party! Oh my god, how do you think it went? Did they get your good side? What about hair and makeup? I know you get helmet hair, bubs. 
Seriously, so so excited and proud of you, Bradley! I’m going to make my dad and Mary come down for it! She doesn’t teach on Mondays, so this is perfect for them to stay over Sunday night! But now don’t go letting all that fame get to your head, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw 😉 Love you so much x
01/24 @ 12:17pm
Rocketman - 
I was sitting at my desk earlier and listening to some music before my 12:30 meeting and Elton John’s Rocket Man popped up on my shuffle. Obviously, as you are my rocketman, I always think of you whenever I hear it, but today the lyrics really scratched that special part of my brain, so I did a deep dive into the song’s origins. 
Please note, I’m including this time in my billable hours to the client (re. you). My findings are as follows:
Bernie Taupin was inspired by a Ray Bradbury story written in 1951 titled ‘The Rocket Man’ - not drugs as the urban legend states! Drugs! Imagine!
Bradbury’s ‘The Rocket Man’ was first published in Maclean’s, a weekly Canadian magazine, before it was published in the short story collection ‘The Illustrated Man’ that same year
‘The Illustrated Man’ later was made into a film, though ‘The Rocket Man’ story was notably absent
Some of more popular and renowned stories from the collection include ‘The Veldt’ and ‘The Long Rain,’ the latter of which is commonly read in high school honors English
Was client in honors English? Please confirm in follow up correspondence
Client has mentioned extensive library resources at disposal - perhaps he can check this collection out on his next visit? But for now, an executive summary has been provided:
With space travel more commonplace in society, Doug’s father, an astronaut, is sent on frequent, three- month journeys into space
Despite missing his dad, Doug also longs to be a Rocket Man, though his mother frequently prevails on Doug to beg his father to stay on Earth and be with the family
“What’s it like, out in space?” Mother shot me a frightened glance. It was too late. Dad stood there for a full half minute trying to find an answer, then he shrugged.“It’s the best thing in a lifetime of best things.” Then he caught himself. “Oh, it’s really nothing at all. Routine. You wouldn’t like it.” He looked at me, apprehensively. “But you always go back.” “Habit.”
The father finds that his work is ruining his life, but the draw of the stars is too great: "You don’t know what it is. Every time I’m out there I think, if I ever get back to Earth I’ll stay there; I’ll never go out again. But I got out, and I guess I’ll always go out.”
Even while on vacation with the family, having Thanksgiving dinner, or sitting on the back porch, the father’s eyes are always on the sky…
Doug’s father begs him to not be like him, to not be a rocket man, but what happens when his father goes on one last journey to the stars?
Through much reflection, I have decided that ‘The Rocket Man’ was written about you - and your mom and your dad and me and on and on until there is no longer a need for Rocket Men - or the rocket man simply stops and breaks the cycle
You are both the Rocket Man and the little boy, forever waiting for his father to come home from space
The allure of flying, of being a ‘rocket man,’ is both too great and too sad for you to ignore
None of this is to say the rocket man is selfish, no. He simply cannot resist the temptation. He knows nothing other than the thrill and peace of being amongst the stars
And his mother shielding Doug from the sun at the end is like your mom asking Mav to pull your papers, she does it to save him, but it cannot keep him from becoming his father
Needless to say - I had to postpone my 12:30 meeting until tomorrow as my eyes were far too puffy and any word I tried to say felt like cotton in my mouth.
I miss you and I love you - your ‘Lilly’  
01/24 @ 8:22pm
Fuck - I love you so much. My clever girl.
01/24 @ 8:28pm
I pour my heart out to you and that’s all you have to say, rocketman? ‘Fuck - I love you so much’
(of course, I also love you so much, my clever boy.)
01/24 @ 8:30pm
Darling - it’s going to take me a little longer to come up with any commentary you deem appropriate, so for the sake of time, yes. I gotta read this story in full. I’ll be at the library at my earliest convenience. ‘The client’ will send an annotated copy with his notes henceforth.
01/24 @ 8:32pm
Of course, sweet boy. Goodnight, I love you so much. x
01/25 @ 11:44am
As promised, my darling girl. Love you.
[b.bradshaw_the rocket man_final paper.pdf]
01/25 @ 7:14pm
Oh Bradley! I love you so much, rocketman. Yes, I couldn’t have said it better. Yours x
01/26 @ 10:39am
Bradley! They’re sending me to London in February for two weeks! I even get a swanky corporate apartment for the stay. I wish you could come with me - even if it was just for a long weekend? We could go to all my favorite restaurants and afternoon tea and for walks in all the parks. One day it’ll work out! 
But tragedy of all tragedies! I just realized I’m going to miss a couple cooking lessons when I’m in London! I already emailed the instructor before today’s class and she said there’s other classes throughout the week that are behind us, so I can make it up with them! Ahhh I’m so excited! Talk soon, love you!
01/26 @ 11:13pm
I didn’t realize how nervous I was about the trip until I went to bed tonight. It’ll be my first trip abroad since I got my promotion in November. Plus, it’s a completely different client than my last trip abroad and I’ve only met one person on this new London team before. Sometimes I go into these meetings and still feel like a little kid? I’m always the youngest person in the room and normally the only woman and on one hand, that’s cool? But sometimes I feel like someone’s daughter instead of their colleague? Like these guys are my dad’s age? And they’re actually supposed to listen to what I have to say about their company? Do you ever feel like that? Like you don’t really belong, despite knowing you’ve earned your place? I wish you were beside me right now. My bed feels way too big tonight. Love you.
01/27 @ 7:48am
Sweetheart! I am so unbelievably proud of you! That’s amazing! You gotta celebrate, go out to dinner with Caro and Darcy, maybe even Nat! I know you’ve been working so hard these last couple of weeks, you absolutely deserve this. I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through, but yes. I have absolutely felt like I haven’t belonged or deserved something despite having ‘checked off all the boxes.’ I felt that way when I got promoted to LC and when I got that award in October. Everytime I see it on my uniform, I feel a bit like a faker? Like do I really deserve this? But then I remember the way you smiled at me when I got back to my seat that night and how proud of me you were and I think maybe I do deserve it? Plus, I also think of how goddamn gorgeous you looked all fucked out later that night. 
And please note, I would happily slip into bed alongside you, especially since my bed feels way too small tonight. Love you, Bradley
01/27 @ 10:56am
Thank you for earlier. I don’t know, sometimes I just feel like I’m just too soft for all of this? Like I’m always trying to prove something to everyone and I get a little lost. Tell me something good? x
01/27 @ 7:01pm
How about this? Every time I go up in the sky and see the way the sun hits the clouds, I think of you. I’ve never wanted to be with someone as much as I want to be with you. I love you so much, kid
Your Bradley 
01/27 @ 7:06pm
Sometimes I can’t believe we love each other this much, it feels like a dream  x
01/27 @ 7:11pm
I can. Your Bradley 
01/30 @ 7:08am
i slept in one of your shirts last night. it doesn’t smell like you anymore, but it feels like you: soft and safe and warm x
01/30 @ 7:23am
Well I spray my pillowcase with your perfume whenever I miss you so I guess we’re even
Your Bradley
ps - can you send me another bottle?
01/30 @ 7:34am
You’re already out? What sort of illicit behavior are you engaging in with that perfume bottle? 
01/30 @ 10:33pm
I burrow my face in my pillow so I can smell it while I fist my cock, why? What’d you have in mind?
01/30 @ 10:37pm
How does that work though? Like genuinely? Do you jack off with Rueben in the top bunk? Or wait till he’s in the gym? I’ve been curious about this for a while now. What about the showers? Is it like an open floor plan thing? Or are there stalls? Is there a Zillow listing for this aircraft carrier?
01/30 @ 10:41pm
Now why would I ruin the mystery? 
01/30 @ 10:43pm
Bradley!!!!
01/30 @ 10:44pm
Atta girl, that’s the spirit! Love you 
02/02 @ 6:30pm
I am so sick of going to the gym. It seems like it’s all Payback and I do lately. We got this new workout regime that’s been killing me - don’t say it’s because I’m old. Though, I have been using my Theragun. Payback does my back if I do his in return. It was only awkward the first time he turned it on too hard and yelped (please tell everyone that). 
02/02 @ 6:46pm
Oh, so you and Rueben Theragun each other, huh? Say more Lieutenant Commander!
02/04 @ 2:45pm
Going to Pete and Penny’s in a bit to watch the Super Bowl! Max is at the game, apparently his golf buddy Jimmy G hooked him up, though he neglected to bring me or Caroline. I feel like you would’ve been his first choice, so take that as a compliment I suppose. Do you guys do anything onboard for it? I have $350 on the 49ers winning by 3. Have a lovely day my darling boy x
02/04 @ 9:30pm
Guess who’s as snug as a bug on a rug in her bed AND $1400 dollars richer? That would be me! When you get home we’re going to Juniper and Ivy, my treat, bubs! x
02/06 @ 4:57am
Awww sweetheart are you gonna sugar mama me again? 
02/06 @ 7:03am
You do know the only reason you’re getting away with that is because there’s an ocean between us, right? 
02/06 @ 6:00pm
Sorry, couldn’t resist! Love you! B
02/06 @ 6:10pm
You’re lucky I love you so much. x
02/08 @ 9:58pm
Can you imagine if I was gone for 20 years?
02/08 @ 10:11pm
Bradley that’s not funny 
02/08 @ 10:13pm
It’s not supposed to be. I’m reading the Odyssey and it got me thinking. 
02/08 @ 10:16pm
Bradley I love you something awful, but you are such an old man sometimes. 
Are you going through some sort of midlife crisis reading the Odyssey while you’re at sea?? Is the Old Man and the Sea next?
(ps i love the thought of you reading in your bunk in your spare time and being so struck by something composed thousands of years ago that you have to email me)
02/08 @ 10:20pm
They wait 20 years to get back to each other - practically half their lives. They miss so many things and barely knew each other before he left, but they’re still so - I don’t even know? They’re just so intent on getting back to the other in Odysseus’s case? While Penelope makes sure there’s something for him to come back to? And I must’ve read this stanza ten times before I had to email you: 
"...the gods cast me upon Ogygia, Calypso's island, home of the dangerous sea nymph with glossy braids, and the goddess took me in in all her kindness, welcomed me warmly, cherished me, even vowed to make me immortal, ageless, all my days - but she never won the heart inside me, never" 
And I know it’s not a perfect comparison or parallel, but I read that last bit and I couldn’t help but think of you? And how you’re the one who won my heart and it’s always going to be that way. Whether I see you in twenty seconds or twenty years.
02/08 @ 10:23pm
You’d come home to me whether it took twenty seconds or twenty years. You’d come home to me and I’d know you anywhere. I love you so much. 
02/08 @ 10:58pm
“Now help me, please, to get back home, and quickly! I miss my family. I have been gone so long it hurts.” 
Your Bradley
02/09 @ 7:03pm
At the airport for London! Taking off! And I may or may not have used points to upgrade to a Club World seat…but like? It’s a nonstop flight, so it’s okay, right? Work’s already paying for business class? It’s points from my work card? It’ll be fine, right?
I had to take an ativan in the lounge. I just hate that I still get so nervous whenever I fly long distance? I fly all the time, I shouldn’t be like this? You know, one time, I pretended you were flying my plane. I know it’s kind of dumb and silly and a completely different type of plane, but it made me feel better because you’d never let anything happen to me. 
Anyway, we’re book buddies!! I went to the bookstore a couple days ago and got a copy! I read the Odyssey back in high school, but forgot so much. I was reading in the lounge and this part made me think of you:
“...this lovely house, my marriage home, so full of wealth and life, which I suppose I will remember even in my dreams.”
I’ll text you when I land my darling boy, love you x
02/10 @ 6:02am
You gotta squeeze every last bit of your per diem out of pwc. You’ve been working way too hard lately. Fuck it, on the way home just put the upgrade on your work card or put it on mine. Have a safe (rest of your) flight - maybe one day you’ll let me take you up. Love Bradley 
02/10 @ 10:08am
Just landed and on my way to the office (already…)
I thought of you as I read and stared out the window on the plane. I could pretend I’m flying towards you, rather than further away. I can’t imagine how you feel doing this everyday, but I imagine it’s like feeling limitless, like everything is in front of you, there for the taking. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you take me up one day. 
I’ll keep you posted on how everything’s going if you do the same. All my love x
02/12 @ 5:49am
How’s it going, kid? They working you too hard? You’re in London! Try to enjoy it, you deserve it. One of the guys I’m with gave me a restaurant recommendation for you, said the drinks were amazing, his wife loved it. Do something fun while you’re there! And send me some pictures dammit!
Love you, 
Bradley 
02/12 @ 8:22am
Bradley! It’s been so so crazy here! I feel like I haven’t stopped since I landed. My ‘flat’ is so cute and right by the client’s offices, so it’s an easy commute. I feel so professional taking the Tube places too! It’s one thing I’d like us to have in San Diego as opposed to all the traffic. Also, it’s CHILLY here and I’m so glad I dug my big coat out of storage. I’ll try and check the restaurant out this weekend, I’m gonna sneak in a trip to the Tate, too. I’ve always wanted to see the Turners. Talk soon and love you bunches! x 
02/14 @ 9:54am
Bradley Bradshaw! You absolute SAP! HOW!?! Did you conspire with my dad again? Thank you for the flowers! I’m going to have the biggest smile on my face all day. I love you and hope this is the first of a lifetime of Valentine’s Days together. Always x 
02/14 @ 7:33pm
Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, kid. I’m not gonna lie, I gave your dad very specific instructions for the bouquet (I was going to ask Max, but he’d probably swap it for something ugly and cheap and keep the change…kidding (not)), so I’m glad they turned out well. It was a very big day on board today: we got special red heart cookies for the holiday. The mood was infectious, I can still taste the sprinkles. Maybe you could cook for me on our next Facetime? Have you learned anything good in class lately? It doesn’t have to be fancy, just wanna see you (and maybe also live vicariously through whatever you’re making).  
02/14 @ 7:33pm
Bradley! I think I can swing that for you, when do you think our next call will be? 
02/16 @ 3:18pm
Kid, you spoil me. This package is amazing, I don’t know where to start (just kidding it’s with the Cadbury chocolate and the Sudocrem as my burnt shoulders thank you), but everything is wonderful, thank you. I love hearing about London and seeing the pictures you sent last time. But I do have one complaint…you’re not in any of the pictures, kid, and that’s truly egregious. (Think we won’t be able to Facetime for a while, I gave Payback my slot the other day.)
02/16 @ 3:23pm
That’s not true! I’m in the one in front of the Tate!
02/16 @ 3:25pm
Yeah, but I can’t see you under all those layers! Just want to see your face. It’s been way too long since our last Facetime.
02/16 @ 9:52pm
As requested, Lieutenant Commander. I had one of the girls in the London office take this at dinner tonight. She really did wonders with the lighting and even managed to get my sidecar in the pic! x Love you
02/17 @ 6:55am
You look pretty. New dress? B
02/17 @ 7:17am
Maybe…it was on sale, couldn’t resist. But you’re gonna hate me because all of my clothes are very much not going to fit in your closet. Also, I bought you a new jacket and some socks. x
02/17 @ 7:20am
Ehhh I’m not too worried about the closet thing. But if you keep buying me clothes we might have a problem.
02/17 @ 7:24am
It’s so cute though!! You’re going to look so handsome in it! I got the green one for you!
02/17 @ 7:29am
Okay, admittedly a very nice jacket, thank you. But you are aware that we live in San Diego…
02/17 @ 7:31am
I am aware of that fact, LC Bradshaw. You can wear it when we visit my parents. Hell, I had to get my coat out of my storage closet for this trip. 
02/17 @ 6:53pm
Sighhhhh you raise a good point. Alright, alright, thank you for the jacket and socks my darling girl. What’d you have for dinner last night? We had chicken with these absolutely awful biscuits, tasted like saw dust, my stomach was growling for some more of that Cadbury chocolate (yes, Payback and I ate all of it already, though it was mainly Payback) for hours afterward. 
02/17 @ 6:59pm
Oh my sweet boy! Who do I need to call about your meal plan? Give me the number and I’ll call the Navy up right now. And I had scallops with truffle risotto. It was delicious. Wanted to lick the bowl clean. Love you bubs x
02/19 @ 10:22pm
Bubs, I cannot eat another meal out. I feel like I’m going to burst. I’ve gone to so many work dinners and lunches even before coming here, it almost makes me feel like a glutton. 
I miss you and your cooking (though I’ll have you know that my skills were vastly improving before my trip abroad!) and you standing behind me at the counter while I try to perfectly cut peppers. Sometimes I do it wrong on purpose so you’ll put your arms around me and I can feel the rumble of your voice. Would we call that weaponized incompetence? You better be ready for some Michelin Star meals when you get home, buddy. I just can’t wait to be home with you and roll over next to you in the morning and to tell you to stop snoring and that the battery in the smoke detector needs to be changed. I can’t wait to be home with you and make a life with you. I’m going to be really sappy now, but let me have this because I was reading this poem the other day and thought of you. 
“I am supposed to be touched. I can’t wait to find the person who will come into the kitchen just to smell my neck and get behind me and hug me and breathe me in and make me turn around and make me kiss his face and put my hands in his hair even with my soapy dishwater drips. I am a lovely woman. Who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me?” (x)
Only a month until you’re home with me, I hope you’re hungry. 
All my love x
02/20 @ 4:50am
It’s only weaponized incompetence if the other person minds. I, however, do not mind. I loved that quote you sent me, going to be thinking about that one for a long time. I hate to tell you this, but I’m gonna be offline for a couple days. I hate that it’s at the end of your trip, but please please message me when you’re leaving/taking off and again when you land, you know I worry. Love you and am so unbelievably proud of you, kid! You killed it in London. Your Bradley
02/20 @ 7:03am
That’s okay, I totally understand. I’ll give you all the details on our next Facetime. In the meantime, I message you when I leave. Stay safe and love you, Bradley! x
02/23 @ 3:45pm
Taking off soon! I got an upgrade again, thankfully! And I made sure to put your new coat in my carry on - I don’t trust British Airways not to lose it! Taking an ativan again so hopefully I’ll sleep the entire flight - love you and talk soon!
02/24 @ 10:33pm
Just landed, slept through….90% of the flight! Apparently, there was bad turbulence, so probably for the best. Now, I know you would never have me deal with that my darling rocketman! Talk later - love you! x
02/25 @ 7:09pm
Feels kind of weird being back? I can’t quite get back into my routine. I’m not sure if it’s jet lag or something else? Feeling a little lost? x
02/26 @ 7:55pm
Bradley!!! You were so good, I’m so so proud of you! Max had everyone over at his place for us to watch you! We have quite the party here including my parents, Pete, Penny and Amelia, Natasha, Mickey and Cielo, Caroline, and Darcy. I’ll have to tell you about the parents meeting later. I wish you had been here for it, they took to each other like bees to honey. 
You looked tragically handsome, I practically had to hold back a moan when you were standing on the flight deck talking to Norah O’Donnell (is she as nice in person as she is on TV?). God, I want to ravish you, you sounded so fucking smart. You know like half the country is going to be in love with you now, right? I’ve got to get back to everyone, Max ordered dinner for us afterwards, but I had to email you as soon as you finished!
Just wanted to let you know how proud of you I am and how much I love you x
02/27 @ 5:09am
Thanks, kid. Sorry it took me a bit to respond, things have been getting a bit crazy, you know, now that I’m a celebrity and all? We’re winding down this training, so the next couple weeks are gonna be full of debriefs and paperwork, which means I should have a more stable schedule. Love you B
02/28 @ 11:48pm
Sometimes I wonder if you were here what would you do? Hold me? Love me? I never feel small except when I’m in your arms. x
02/29 @ 11:48pm
Some nights in bed, if I try really hard, I can imagine I’m laying down next to you. And it makes everything just a little easier. Bradley
03/01 @ 12:56am
I haven’t taken anything besides my fingers in months. You’re going to stretch me out so well when you get home. 
03/01 @ 7:19pm
And I’m gonna mark your ass pink for that comment. I can’t believe you sent that in the middle of the day. You getting yourself off at work? Dirty girl. 
03/01 @ 9:41pm
Never feels as good as when you do it. 
03/01 @ 10:01pm
And my hands pale in comparison to your pretty little cunt. You know that first time we slept together you were so fucking tight, I knew you hadn’t had a good fuck in ages. It gonna be like that again when I come home?
03/01 @ 10:05pm
Where are you going to have me first?
03/01 @ 10:06pm
In our bed, in our house, after you make me dinner in our kitchen. 
03/01 @ 10:09pm
Just over two weeks now, I can’t wait to see you. x
03/03 @ 5:55am
How you holding up, kid? You doing a little better this week work wise? Try and log off around 5 if you can. Don’t want you getting all worn down on me. 
They had us doing these war games yesterday that made me think of you. You would’ve walked circles around some of these other guys I swear. Think I can get a Facetime for us in a couple days? Probably will be our last one before I come home. Love you, B
03/03 @ 7:12am
Bradley! That's the best news I’ve had in ages! I can’t wait to see you! Definitely felt a little lost after coming back from London, but I hope my rut will be over soon? Tying things up with a client is always so lengthy and tedious. 
War games! ‘Would you like to play a game?’ I’d ask if you won, but no one ever wins in the art of war 😉Love you!
03/05 @ 8:54pm
So, here’s a new one. My mom called? She’s going to be stateside and wants to get lunch tomorrow. Could’ve done with a bit more warning, but apparently, she has a layover in San Diego on her way to New York to see my brother? I didn’t even know she was going to see him? I don’t even know if I want to see her? It’s funny, I can already tell you exactly how it’ll play out:
We’ll go to lunch at some sort of vegan restaurant, probably Donna Jean
She’ll make me pay
She’ll try to get me to use some sort of herb to promote weight loss since I’m looking a bit “pudgy” around the face
Though she’ll forget to ask about you, she’ll tell me about her latest string of failed relationships with bartenders and surf instructors in Canggu. Or is it Ubud? I genuinely don’t remember, she started in Ubud, but honestly my knowledge of Balinese geography is rudimentary at best 
She’ll ask how ‘that woman’ is doing as if Mary is just the woman my dad is seeing, not the woman who raised me and my brother
And finally, she’ll ask for money though betting is still open as to what for!
So, what do you say? Wanna put a wager on it? Your terms.
Love you! x
03/06 @ 6:30am
$100 she orders the caesar and makes you pay. I’m not even going to entertain the third parlay, pretty girl. Oddly feeling like she’s got a winner on her hands so yes she’ll talk about her new paramour. Does she really call Mary ‘that woman?’ And yes, without a question, she will ask you for money.
Your move my gorgeous girl,
Bradley
03/06 @ 7:49pm
I really wish you were here right now. She doesn’t even know me, but she somehow always manages to make me feel small. 
Caesar - no croutons 
I paid
Pudgy and frumpy, but she was hawking shakes not herbs
Failed relationship? No, she’s actually GETTING MARRIED
She did not ask about you much other than to say I need to watch my figure for you (see bullet point no. 3)
Mary was called ‘that woman’ six times before I stopped counting
She asked for money as a wedding present 
So, you didn’t get them all, but not a bad showing. Love you. Talk tomorrow on Facetime. x
03/07 @ 6:09am
God kid, I’m so sorry. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Actually, I don’t even think she deserves to know what she’s missing. Did you talk to your dad or Mary about it? I know we’re talking later, but I just wanted you to have a message from me before you start your day. What’re you wearing to the office tomorrow? Have you worn that polka dot dress with the bow lately? You know it’s one of my favorites and that I always love unwrapping it when you get home from the office. 
Can’t wait to see you tonight. All my love, Bradley
03/07 @ 9:55am
The dress doesn’t fit. My mom was right, I shouldn’t have gotten the french toast.
I’m planning on talking to dad and Mary later today before you and I have our Facetime. I know they’ll make me feel better, much like you have my darling boy, but it still feels pretty crummy. Especially since I’m sure she’s going to have wonderful time in New York with my brother 🙄 and I’ll have to hear all about it next time I talk to him. 
And I’m not sure if I’ve unpacked that dress yet! I’ll have to do some digging. Talk soon! x
03/10 @ 3:26am
We had a little baby. He was always giggling and laughing and we were making silly faces and he looked so small in your arms, Bradley. So small and little and he was ours. And then I turned around and he was toddling around the house and we were chasing him and his little legs were moving so quickly and we all wound up on the couch in a tangle of limbs, giggling under the blankets as we tickled him and he called you daddy. 
It wasn’t our house - or what will be our house, I guess? Instead of the leather couch you have, it was white and big and wide and the three of us could easily fit on it, snuggled together. 
And I could feel your arms around me, rocking me back and forth. I could feel you humming in my ear and kissing my neck and telling me you loved me. I could feel it. I could feel you. I could feel him and you. And it was nice and I felt warm and safe and cherished and loved. Because I felt so much love for this little boy in my arms - the perfect mix of me and you. Everything felt right and perfect. 
Except when I rolled over in bed to tell you about it, I realized I was alone in my bed, in my apartment, and not in the house that we shared or with the little boy that looked so much like you and I haven’t felt so empty and sad since I can’t remember when. 
And I just miss you so much, Bradley. I know I can come across as glib and unfeeling sometimes and like this doesn’t affect me as much. But it does and sometimes I feel like my heart is going to burst because I’ve never felt like this for anyone else before? It’s never been so easy for me to love someone and let them love me to the point that I always want to be beside them. And I know with your job - and mine - that can’t always happen, but god Bradley I wish you were here right now so you could hold me and tell me you loved me because I just want to feel your arms around me and know you’re real. I want to tell you about the little boy - the perfect mix of me and you. 
I love you rocketman x
03/11 @ 12:49pm
I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I realize that’s a lot to drop on you, especially since we can’t talk in person. I guess I’ve just never missed a person more in my life and seeing that future showed me what we could have when you come home. God, Bradley I want you to come home so badly. I want you to stay here with me forever and never leave and to have that cute little boy who was the perfect mix of me and you and to have you here in my arms every night. And I know it’s selfish of me to ask or even make you think about it, but I want you right here - in twenty seconds, not twenty years. 
How did your hop go today? x
03/11 @ 7:03pm
I have dreams like that, too. I’ll be little, but still older than I was when my dad died and we’ll be at the beach, running around, and he’ll pick me up and spin me around like I’m flying on an airplane. 
But then it’ll be me and my kid, running around and I’ll pick them up and spin them around like they’re flying on an airplane. Sometimes it’s a girl, sometimes a little boy. But I always just can feel and tell that I love them and I’d do anything for them. 
And I used to hate waking up alone after I had them and I’d feel empty and sad and like I had the feeling that they should still be there? Except now I have you and I know it doesn’t just have to be a dream?
Sorry it took me so long to reply. Today was hectic and I didn’t get to check my email until later. But if I checked it earlier, my day would’ve been a lot easier on my heart. 
All my love,
Your Bradley
03/12 @ 7:11pm
How do you always know exactly what to say? I’m sorry for springing that all on you, know it wasn’t exactly a quick/easy message, but I love that you knew exactly what I meant. My day’s always a lot easier on my heart when I hear from you, too. Love you x
03/13 @ 10:17pm
i miss having you around to take care of me. and telling me what to do and what to wear for you and how you want me and where you want me and when you want me and and and. and how good i feel around you as you come, how you take what’s yours. how i need you to take control and tell me what i need because i’m too much of a dumb slut to figure it out on my own. i need you so much bradley. and it’s so hard because i’m trying to take care of myself like you do and imagine what you’d do if you were with me right now. but i’m so frustrated since no one takes care of me like you do. i feel so empty. nothing stretches me out like you do, nothing makes me feel as small as you do, nothing makes me flush like the sound of your voice against my neck as i come, nothing soothes the ache inside me like you do. need you to call me good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl, anything as long as it’s yours. 
i need you i need you i need you i need you bradley bradley bradley bradley
3/13 @ 10:39pm
Awwww sweetheart, did you get yourself all worked up over me? It’s okay, I know it’s hard for you all by yourself. Must’ve been real bad for you to risk this getting flagged, huh? Poor thing, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. 
Want you to pretend I’m next to you, leaning over you as you lay down and touch yourself. Say yes Bradley, more Bradley. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. Good girl. 
Want you naked under the covers, no frilly little pajama set or anything. No, I want your cum to stain the sheets and then for you to have to clean up in the morning, all embarrassed because you did this. You made yourself like this because you can’t control yourself without me around. All that cum being wasted. Nobody around to lick it off your pussy. So what doesn’t get on the sheets, you have to taste. Good girl. 
Want you to use your fingers - only your fingers, I’ll know if you use anything else. Start with your breasts. Think of how perfectly they fit in my hands and how yours aren’t quite the same. They aren’t as big. Aren’t as strong. Play with your nipples, drag your nails across the soft skin on the underside of your breasts.
Want you to sigh my name as you slide your hands down your stomach towards your pretty little pussy. Have you shaved? Gotten a wax? You know how I like it, want it just like that when I get home. Pretend it’s my fingers sliding into your cunt. A few touches and you’re already clenching on air and I’m not even around. 
In and out, in and out. Circle your clit with your thumb. Add another finger, then another. You rocking your hips yet? I know you’re soaked. I know you want more. Three fingers can’t stretch you out nearly as much as you need. But I don’t know if you can handle anything else without me around. And I know you would never disagree with me, right? Because you’re my good girl and good girls do what they’re told. 
Don’t hesitate to get loud. You’re in our house, in our bed, you can be as loud as you want. Bet you’re getting close, huh? Try and last a little longer, can you hear yourself and how wet you are? Are you shaking yet? I know you’re close. Go ahead, speed up your fingers, just the way I do. It’s okay, you can come. Know you’re gonna get sleepy soon, wish I could sleep inside you, nice and tight.
Now say thank you Bradley. Good girl. 
03/14 @ 5:49pm
Thank you, Bradley. Thank you for taking care of me last night 
You like chicken piccata, right?
03/14 @ 7:33pm
Yeah, kid, I like chicken piccata. 
03/14 @ 7:39pm
Okay, that’s good. I’m going to make it when you come home. I ran it by my cooking instructor. Ina’s recipe of course. 
(I’ve read your email seven times since you sent it. I’ve thought about it constantly. I want you to take me softly and slowly that first time. But after that? I can’t wait to let go and float. Love you so much x)
03/15 @ 6:09am
You’re the boss. Good thing I’ll be home soon, you’re gonna run out of material. As is, I had to type that last one with one hand. 
Love you,
B
03/15 @ 7:21am
I’ll be good till you get home, promise. 
Have a good day, do you think we’ll get to talk much from now till Friday? Love you x
03/15 @ 7:24am
I’ll hold you to it. 
I don’t think so, might be able to send one out before leaving the boat. Better make it a good one. 
All my love
Your Bradley 
03/15 @ 7:25am
You got it! Love you bubs 
03/18 @ 11:08pm
Kid - there’s this lyric that keeps running through my head: ‘and I want you right here.’ I want you beside me - today, tomorrow, all my days. I want you right here, beside me forever. In twenty seconds, not twenty years. See you tomorrow.
All my love,
Your Bradley
03/18 @ 11:11pm
See you tomorrow, rocketman. I’ll be the one in blue.
Love you x
a/n: thanks for reading! i'll be back with part ii and part iii (hopefully not in...4 months). i had so much fun writing these and getting to explore a different format and side to their relationship! thanks to alexa @sometimesanalice, kylie @ofstoriesandstardust, cass @notroosterbradshaw, elle @dissonannce, nik @cherrycola27, and loren @heartsofminds for all the support!
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jennaimmortal · 7 months
Text
Musings on OFMD Season 2
I’m feeling a bit sad today for the OFMD writers. After rewatching S1 & 2 a couple times, it’s become blatantly clear to me that Izzy’s arc this season was a very obvious love letter to both Izzy fans & the great Con O’Neil. Izzy was very clearly written to be an obstacle to Ed’s healing & personal growth, a snare that Ed needed to be freed from, albeit with plenty of nuance hiding under the surface. It would have been much easier for them to kill Izzy off while he was still the toxic, abusive, sadomasochistic terror of S1E10.
Instead of taking the easy route, though, the writers flipped the trope on its head! They utilized every bit of the potential buried beneath Izzy’s super fucked up shell. This season Izzy got
• a fully fleshed out redemption complete with terrible consequences of his 1x10 actions
• a realization of the possibility of another way of thinking & existing that he’d spent all of S1 running from & trying to destroy,
• genuine love & support from his crew mates which he was actually able to accept,
• exploration of the long abandoned softer side of his nature,
• an apology from Ed w/o first offering one of his own,
• a powerful, devastatingly poignant speech that mentally demolished a new nemesis, and finally
• a beautiful, meaningful death in the arms of the man he’d dedicated so much of his life to, known that he was truly loved by him & completely accepting of the fact that Ed’s love was not in the form he’d always hoped for.
It was so much more than we could have hoped for, and was very obviously done in service to the MANY fans that had fallen in love with Izzy even after S1, as well as to give Con a storyline worthy of his immense talent. Considering the face that Izzy was never going to end up becoming the show’s third protagonist, it was more than we could have hoped for!
OFMD has two protagonists, Stede & Ed. All the secondary character narratives that haven’t directly involved Ed and/or Stede have been icing on the cake, but the cake has always been the Gentlebeard love story. I feel like some people forget this, expecting them to treat the secondary characters as if it were an ensemble show instead of a show with leads.
Izzy’s arc really was an amazing gift! The writers gave us this incredible journey for Izzy this season, and what did a disgraceful number of people do? They attacked David directly, insulted the entire show, the writers, & other characters, even wishing actual harm & misery to other characters or even to David himself!
While I know that comparatively speaking, the percentage of show fans who reacted this way was relatively small, it was still an astounding amount of hatred & vitriol thrown at the people who had obviously worked very hard to give Izzy fans something beautiful to hold on to after his inevitable death. Much of the discourse honestly shocked me, considering the fact that OFMD isn’t even an adaptation of another work.
When fans get angry at shows written as adaptations of books, it’s a bit more understandable for them to have extreme reactions. They’ve had certain ideas and headcanons about characters they’ve felt very strongly about for a long time. It can be really jarring & painful when expectations like that aren’t met, the characters or plots are taken in totally different directions, or even excluded entirely.
OFMD, however, is an original creation. This is David Jenkins’s story. These are David Jenkins’s characters. He knows his story, his plotlines, his characters far better than anyone else does because they came from HIS brain! So while we as fans can have our own interpretations & head canons, they are always going to be at risk of being proven totally wrong by the ACTUAL canon.
One of the worst aspects of fandoms, in my opinion, is the way people become so proprietary over the story & characters, insisting that their own interpretations & theories are the only correct ones, which is exactly what happened with Izzy. Fans’ individual & collective interpretations, theories, hopes, & other head canons became concrete & true in their minds. So much so that when the actual story didn’t meet those expectations, so many of them lashed out in some truly unpleasant, sometimes hateful ways.
My only hope is that the rest of the fandom’s love, appreciation, constructive criticism, heartbreak, pain, joy, & excitement has been enough to drown out the deluge of vitriolic comments directed at David & the other writers.
If you stuck with me through this unintentionally long diatribe, thank you! Maybe take a moment to give the writers some comments or replies on social media, showing your love! I know I will!
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theemporium · 1 year
Note
wolfstar x reader remus and sirius spoiling reader
thank you for requesting!🖤
.
“This is too much.” 
“One would argue it’s not enough.” 
“I’m serious—”
“No, I’m Sirius.” 
You shot the boy a look, completely unamused by the joke. But it was a little hard to look threatening when you were surrounded by a variety of bags and boxes from different shops—which Sirius was happy to remind you every time you tried glaring at him from your spot on his bed. 
You had chosen to stay in for the weekend, the upcoming assignments and exams stressing you out more than you cared to admit. Your boyfriends had tried to convince you to take a break, to go out for a few hours at least and enjoy some fresh air but you had waved them off and told them to enjoy a cute day out without you. There was plenty of time after exams to make up for the lost time. 
So you could imagine your surprise when Remus and Sirius had returned from their day out in Diagon Alley and started showering you in gift bags and gift boxes until you could barely see the notes you had spread across the bed to revise—until you could barely move from the bed yourself.
“You have to return these,” you told the boys, shaking your head as you tried to mentally calculate just how much everything would have cost. There were bags with shop names you didn’t even recognise because it was in the fancier parts of Diagon Alley you usually ignored. “This is insane—”
“It’s what you deserve,” Remus corrected you as he walked into the room, unashamed in the way he placed the last of the bags at the foot of the bed. “You’re working yourself too hard, love, you deserve something for all your hard work.” 
Your cheeks burned. “I haven’t even finished my exams, I could have done completely shit—”
“And we would still buy you a world’s worth of gifts,” Sirius said with a casual shrug. “I have more money than I know what to do with, darling, it’s only right I treat my girl.” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you glanced back down at the gifts surrounding you. Your family was by no means poor. You had what you needed with a roof over your head and food on your plate. You got gifts from your parents on holidays and special occasions, and sometimes a little spending money if you were lucky. 
But this? This wasn’t something you were used to at all. 
“Relax, darling,” Remus cooed softly when he noticed the look on your face, like he could see the thoughts swirling in your head and sending you into overdrive. “We just wanna show you that we appreciate you, that’s all this is.” 
You nodded a little. “That’s a lot of appreciation.” 
Sirius’ lips twitched. “You’re our good girl, the best girl for us.” 
You squirmed a little under his intense gaze, clearing your throat a little. “I still think this is completely unnecessary.” 
Remus just winked in response, trying to hold back his smirk. “Don’t worry, love, I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to us.” 
“A few of these gifts are for us too,” Sirius commented vaguely, though the glimmer of desire in his eyes gave you a good idea just what a few of these bags held inside them.
.
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mrsevans90 · 4 months
Text
Puppy Love
Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 11
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Y'all, this GIF is down right SPICY but it fit the smut in the story so well I had to ☺️
Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?
Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 
Warnings: SMUT, Emma getting an attitude, Sy yelling, detailed PTSD flashback, bodily function/embarrassment, self-deprecating talk, language
MINORS DNI! Must be 18+
I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 
This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.
A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 
Part 10
I wake up still in the same position that I fell asleep in, on Emma’s chest and notice that my body feels incredibly stiff. Her gentle breathing and steady heartbeat are comforting even though I’m incredibly embarrassed and just want to pretend last night never happened. I have a feeling this is going to be a very long day. I notice the amount of light cascading in from behind the curtains must make it late in the morning, but considering I had a very active night I’m not surprised that I slept in. I carefully lift my head to see if Emma is awake and am startled when I see her big beautiful eyes staring down at me. 
“Good morning.” She says quietly.
“Mornin’.” I reply.
“How are you feeling?”
“Stiff. What time is it?” I ask her somewhat brusquely.
“It’s 9:38.” She answers after looking at the time on her phone.
I sigh and sit up so that I’m faced away from her. 
“Let me make us some breakfast. I’m hungry.” She quickly gets up and goes to the restroom to take care of her morning routines before she exits and walks to the bedroom door.
“Come down to eat after you’re done in the bathroom please.” She says quietly while I’m still pondering my next move as I sit on the edge of the bed. The tension and embarrassment oozes from my body as I sit there attempting to contemplate how to handle this. I haven’t been in this situation before. Alex has seen me have a small flashback at work once, but we didn’t have to talk about it. My grandparents certainly don’t know the extent of my PTSD because I purposely keep it from them. They don’t need to know how mentally damaged their loving grandchild has become. Aika is really the only one who has ever witnessed the extent of my depravity and luckily, she can’t talk or judge me for it. She’s just a silent witness who snaps me out of it with a bark or licking my face. Emma is the only person to ever see how badly it really is and I just don’t even know what to say to her. I force myself up and relieve myself in the bathroom before brushing my teeth and getting myself ready for the day. I look at my reflection in the mirror and wonder just how I got this screwed up before heading to the kitchen. 
Emma is humming to herself as if nothing has transpired as she flips pancakes on the stove. She has coffee brewing in the pot and has sat out my favorite mug that has a picture of a donkey on it with the words, “Do I Look Like a Jackass?” written across it. It was a gift from one of my warhorse buddies, Harper. 
When she hears me approach, she turns and silently fills the cup with coffee before handing it to me with a shy smile. Seems the poor thing is also trying to figure out what to say and coming up blank.
“I hope pancakes sound good to you. I also made some bacon and saw there’s some fruit in your fridge but I’m not sure how old it is.”
“That’s more than enough. Thank you.” 
I drink my coffee while she turns back around to work on the breakfast. Once it’s made, I set the table and refill our coffee cups while remembering to add the coffee creamer that I now buy specifically for Emma since she likes hers sweet. Just like her.
We sit down and I’m aching to avoid the subject but I know I just need to get it over with.
I clear my throat. “Breakfast looks really good. Thank you.”
“Anytime, baby.” She replies and I want to smile.
“I um… I’m really sorry about what happened last night. You shouldn’t have to see me like that or put up with it and I just want to apologize.”
“There is nothing to apologize for. I’m grateful you opened up to me a little bit, honestly.”
Unwillingly, I think to myself. I take a deep breath.
“Maybe, this thing between us is moving too fast.” I blurt out.
“By this thing, you mean our relationship? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought we were exclusive after our conversation the other day. Is this you trying to end things with me?” She says angrily.
“I’m just no good for you. You shouldn’t have to deal with a grown man who has nightmares.”
“I think that I should be the one to decide who or what is good for me. I’m a grown woman who has plenty of my own baggage and I’m not going to allow you to throw this away because you’re embarrassed or trying to protect me from the one person who doesn’t pose a threat to me.”
“I absolutely pose a threat to you!” I yell and slam my fist against the table. “Wasn’t last night enough to show you? I was wielding a rifle dreaming that I was back in active war. Damnit Emma! Don’t be naïve. I could have shot you, or hit you. I could have thought that you were the enemy and there’s no way you would have been able to fight me off! I should have ended things before it got to this point and I’m sorry that I didn’t. I was being selfish and wanted more time with you but I realize now how dangerous that is.”
“NO.” She crosses her arms and straitens her back defensively.
“No?” I repeat in quiet shock.
“No.” She stares at me with a look of fire like a mother chastising her child and even though she’s so tiny I feel myself cower back a little.
“You are ruining the best thing I’ve ever had because you are scared, Austin! And I understand how scary it was, believe me, I was there watching you fight a battle in your own mind. But I’m not afraid of you and I never will be. You need to understand that we both need each other and I am good for you whether you choose to believe it or not. You’re jumping to a conclusion either to punish yourself or me because you’re embarrassed that I know this about you now and I will not tolerate it. Last night, you protected me from what you thought was danger even in your flashback. You will not hurt me and I know it.”
I sit there for a minute stunned by what she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’d be happy to tell you everything from my perspective if you could stop trying to dump me and actually have a vulnerable conversation with me like an adult.” She snarks.
Damn, she’s throwing some verbal punches this morning and it’s kinda sexy.
“Alright, I’m listening.” I announce and she takes a deep breath before speaking.
“I woke up to the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut and you running down the stairs. Aika jumped up and seemed concerned so I took her with me as I went downstairs, turning on lights as I went since you still had the house completely in the dark. I heard the backdoor slam open against the wall as you ran out and I held Aika back so I could shut the door until I could determine what was going on. When I turned on the patio lights I saw you run by with a rifle in your hands. I figured you might have heard an animal or intruder or something so I waited for a moment looking through the window before I heard you yelling. It was pouring rain so I struggled to hear you but you didn’t seem to notice the rain. You ran up against the backside of the house and were yelling different words, military lingo I guess, and aiming your rifle around the corner. Aika was going absolutely nuts barking and I almost let her out to get you but I wasn’t sure if your gun was loaded. Instead, I carefully made my way over to you and kept repeating, “It’s Emma, you are safe.” But when I got to you I could tell you were still actively dreaming, if that’s what we are going to call it. Your eyes were almost glassy but when I touched your shoulder, you immediately put your arm around me from behind to protect me and told me to get down and cover my head. You kept placing your body in front of me. I tried talking to you but you just kept asking me if ‘Lowell and Waites’ were still alive. I wasn’t sure what to say but I remembered the conversation that we had the first time I stayed here. I couldn’t get your attention since you were so absorbed in your mission, until I finally grabbed your face with my hands. That’s when you started to come back to me. You protected me from whatever threat you saw, not the opposite.”
I take a steadying breath and try to calm my heart rate. Hearing her talk about something I’ve done during a flashback is strange, because she’s the first to actually witness it and tell me what I did. I guess it’s like sleepwalking, or undergoing anesthesia where you remember specific events but they are different to what actually happened.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“I’m not. I hate that you had to go through that in real life, and again in your flashbacks but I’m glad that I was there to see it. I think I understand you a bit more and I want to be there for you.” She says earnestly.
“If you want to apologize for something, you can apologize for trying to dump me.” She says moments later with an attitude.
I can’t help but crack a smile at her gumption. She is something else.
“I’m sorry for trying to dump you.” I whisper and she stands and comes over to sit in my lap. 
“I accept your apology.” She smirks.
“Thank you for refusing to be dumped.” I look intently into her eyes. She kisses me sweetly before tapping my forehead.
“Let me in here. I can handle it, I promise. I want to know everything about you, even the bad stuff.”
“I just… I’ve never let anyone in.”
“Okay, imagine this. What if I kept all of my trauma about Colin from you. I know it’s not the same, but just imagine I didn’t tell you about him stalking me, or why I am the way I am about things. You’d be pretty pissed, right?”
“Obviously.” I tell her. “But that’s because I want to protect you.” 
“Exactly. I feel the same way. Now imagine if I told you that I kept it from you because I just didn’t think you could handle my drama.”
I roll my eyes.
“I never said you couldn’t handle it.”
“But you’ve thought that. Haven’t you?” 
“Maybe” I mutter petulantly.
“You’d be livid with me.” She smirks at me knowing she’s made her point thoroughly.
“Alright. I get it.” I put my hands up in surrender.
“I can handle this and I want to know everything about you. Even the stuff you keep locked away for whatever reason.”
“It’s pretty dark, Sugar. I don’t like thinking about it and I don’t like the idea of you thinking about it.”
“Again, not your decision to make.” She says.
“I decide what’s best for me and what I can handle. I promise you, I can handle this and if you just get that through your thick skull and let me be there for you, we’ll be good as gravy.” She said while thumping my forehead.
“Ow, woman!” I say before I tickle her sides. 
“Fine. I’ll be better about opening up. I just might need your help and your patience because I’ve kept all of my shit buried away essentially my entire adult life.”
“They teach you to do that in the military?” She asks with an eyebrow arched.
“Pretty much.” 
“Well, I’m going to help you undo that.”
“I don’t know that I’m going to like that process.”
“You’ll be fine.” She says before kissing me gently. “I’ll use my sexual prowess if I have too.”
“Seduce me to learn my secrets? You little minx.” She giggles at my joke and I breathe a sigh of relief that we can joke about it at this point.
“Do these flashback episodes happen often?” She asks.
“Nah, this is the biggest one I’ve ever had. I’ve had a few small ones, but nothing this involved before. Maybe once or twice a year before this. It’s usually triggered by something when I’m really tired.”
“What do you think triggered you last night?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say the storm. Likely the thunder was similar to an explosion or something in my dream.” I say quietly and she just nods and strokes my cheek.
“Do you have Nana’s brunch today?”
“Nah, she’s got some clothing drive thing at the church that she’s doing. I’m glad because I don’t need her scrutiny today.”
“Does she know about the episodes?”
“Not really, just always told her it was nightmares. I think PawPaw likely has an idea having been a veteran himself, but he keeps it to himself which I appreciate. I don’t need Nana trying to convince me to join some VA group to talk about my problems.”
“What’s so bad about those groups? I only ask because I have no frame of reference.”
“Nothing, those things are really good for some people but it’s just not for me. I tried once or twice after I retired and felt worse after them. Just not the type to get up in front of strangers and talk about my issues.”
“Survivor’s guilt.” Emma mutters and I glance at her somewhat annoyed.
“Think you’ve got me all figured out then?” I ask haughtily.
“No. Not at all as a matter of fact. I know there’s a lot more that you haven’t shared with me. That’s fine, for now. Just don’t get mad at me for being here for you. I don’t deserve that.” 
My iciness cools immediately and I agree with her. She’s just wanting to be here for me in a way nobody else has ever been.
“I’ll do my best, Darlin’.” I admit while tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“That’s all I can ask for.” She kisses me sweetly.
“What do you want to do today, Sugar? That is if you want to spend the day with me.” I ask her.
“Shut up, of course I do.” She says as she rolls her eyes and I growl at her. 
“Mmm.. I need to go to the grocery store and do some meal prep, but other than that I’m open to whatever.”
“Want to go to the store together? Hell, it certainly wouldn’t hurt me to bring my lunch a few days rather than eatin’ fast food all the time.”
“Ohhh! I love that. I can prep lunches for both of us.” She says excitedly and I can’t help but smirk at her.
“You don’t have to do all that work.” I say, thinking that I can cook my own.
“I really don’t mind. I have to cook mine anyway.”
“Alright, how about this. I buy all the groceries for us, and you cook the meals.”
“No baby, I’m offerin’ to cook for you. I don’t need you to buy my food.”
“Nah, that’s the deal Sugar Pie. Take it or leave it.” She arches her eyebrow at me and I can’t help but chuckle and smack her round little ass.
“Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”
“Military negotiation training continues to pay off.” I chuckle at her reaction. She attempts to tickle me, but I gently grab each of her wrists effectively handcuffing her hands by her sides. 
“Geez, Sy, I knew you were strong, but damn.” She says as she attempts to wiggle out of my grasp. She doesn’t realize that she’s also wiggling her ass against me and in a matter of moments, she’s going to feel what it’s doing to me.
I let go of her wrists and she acts like she’s done playing before she turns around quickly and shoves her fingers against my ribs. I jolt from the chair sideways as she laughs freely at what she thinks is winning this game.
“Oh, ya wanting to play?” I say with a smirk and when I reach for her she jumps up and takes off running. Before I even realize it, we are giggling like school children as I chase her up the stairs. The dogs are barking wildly and poor Aika has Mills jumping all over her in an attempt to start wrestling. They slowed me down by getting between me and Emma so she got a little bit of a head start. Eventually Aika gives in and the start playfully wrestling in the hallway. I catch her at the top of the stairs, my long legs being no match for her short but fast stature. Emma squeals exuberantly when I pick her up from behind and haul her over my shoulder. She’s panting and I realize I might’ve played too rough so I gently slide her down my body, taking care to be intentional with where I placed my hands.
“Shit! I didn’t think about your period. I didn’t hurt ya did I?” 
She smiles before shaking her head, “it ended last night. You didn’t hurt me baby, but thank you for checking.”
“Well in that case,” I say as I haul her back up on my shoulder, “I’m going to finish what I started.” She squeals again before smacking me on my butt.
I slap her ass that’s now exposed since she was still only in my shirt and grope it gently before throwing her on the bed on her back. I lay beside her on my back as we catch our breaths from our little game of cat and mouse.
“That was fun.” She giggles.
“Sure was.” I turn to her and smile. 
“Now what?”
“Well, I don’t think I’d let you go to the grocery store without pants on, so as much as I hate to, I suggest you get dressed.” I respond as I gently rub my big mitt against the soft skin of her leg.
“Mmm, maybe later. I don’t think I’m done playing.” She admits seductively before gently placing her hand delicately against my clothed cock.
“That so?” I ask her and she nods. My heart starts beating quicker as she begins rubbing against me.
“Right now, I think I’d like to get you undressed.” She says seductively before her hand slides under the hem of my shirt. I lean up and quickly pull it over my shoulders tossing it somewhere in the room. I’m about to lean over on top of her when she pushes me back and her hands slide under the waistband of my shorts and boxers. She grasps my erection firmly before pulling at my shorts and boxers to remove them, so I lift my hips to assist her. Once those are off, Emma begins kissing across my abdomen while simultaneously jerking my throbbing erection. My hands are everywhere and nowhere at once, like an overwhelmed kid given free range in a candy store.
“Fuck, Sugar. What brought all this on?” I rasp as I grab a handful of her ass.
“You trying to dump me.” She says and I pause and look at her concernedly. 
“Gotta remind you what you’d be missing out on.” She smirks before pulling my t-shirt off of her body and exposing her flawless breasts. She immediately pushes them against me and my responding growl has her grinning. Her warm, soft skin rubbing against my torso has me aching to take control and flip her over. Emma’s tiny hand still pumping my cock has me frozen and her gorgeous body, now only clad in a little pink thong has me hypnotized. I can’t stop myself from humping further into her hand as I feel her warm breath slowly making her way up my torso before sucking on my neck.
“Sugar, you’re playing a real dangerous game here.” I warn as she bites and sucks a hickey right above my collarbone. At the same time, I’m so hard that it’s painful and beads of precum are continually leaking from my slit as she uses it for further lubrication towards her ministrations.
Emma sucks on my earlobe before lightly whispering in my ear, “Ah, I like playing games with you.” Goosebumps erupt all over my skin and that’s when my resolve breaks.
Without thinking, I flip Emma over and tear her tiny thong to shreds as I rip in from her body. She gasps with either surprise or overwhelming need but I don’t pay attention as I pull her in for a brutal kiss. She starts to try and take control back by grabbing at my forearms, but I quickly trap both of her arms above her head using one of my hands to secure them. 
“Now who’s in control?” I ask her smugly as I take in her beauty. Her breasts, peaked and heaving from the excitement are so sexy that I ache just from looking at them. Her little belly ring shimmering in the sunlight that streams in from the window somehow makes me even harder.
“Still me. I say stop and I know you’ll immediately discontinue what you’re doing.” She smiles triumphantly.
I smirk at her, because she’s exactly right. She holds all the power here, and I’m damn glad she knows it. Seems she wasn’t able to have that in her last relationship and I’ll do everything in my power to see that she knows she’s in control. 
“You’re exactly right, Darlin’.” I say with a smile and her returning grin stuns me.
“Lucky for you, I like it when you take control and toss me around.” She divulges as she squirms under me and I can’t help but rut against her legs.
“That so?” I ask and she nods dumbly.
“Well ask and you shall receive.” I say before capturing her lips in a messy kiss. I trail my other hand slowly down her body before inserting my middle finger into her core and keen as she moans in pleasure at the intrusion. I pump a few times before adding a second finger and her body arches pleasantly off the bed.
“Fuck, Sy!” Emma shouts as I curl them in search of her g-spot. I grin victoriously when I know I’ve found it based on the reaction of her body. I start worshipping her titties that are so conveniently pressed right in front of my mouth and that seems to spur her on. I’m leaking all over her thigh as I’m so turned on but I need to get her there first.
I’m still holding her arms above her body and that’s how I keep her still as she squirms and moans exuberantly once her first orgasm washes over her. I observe the pure bliss ease across her facial features as she reaches her climax and I can hear the audible squelch of her arousal each time I pump my fingers into her core. After I’m sure to help her through it, I slide my fingers out and wipe the juices along my shaft, squeezing it to release a little bit of pressure as I do. I look at a completely blissed-out Emma as I pump myself a few times before I hear her quietly request, “Fuck me, Captain Syverson. Fuck me hard.” 
I groan before capturing her lips in a filthy kiss before I flip her over. I lift her hips up off the bed and am appreciating the view of her perfect little peach and round delicious ass in the air before she shakes it at me. I smack her ass before sliding in and barely giving her time to recover as I slam into her. 
“Y’okay?” I ask after she gasped loudly and she nodded before pushing herself further back on me. 
I groan and she does it again so I stay there perfectly still for a few moments as I watch the erotic way Emma fucks herself on my cock in doggy style position. Her back is perfectly arched and she flips that mane of hair over her shoulder as she drives herself back on me again. Fuckin’ hell. I can't help myself when I wrap her hair around my fist as I fuck her harder.
My hands are in tight fists as I’m trying to keep from busting a nut so soon after we started but I know I’m not going to last long. I grab ahold of her hips and drive myself into her sopping wet core and focus on getting the angle right. I know I’ve gotten it when I feel her flutter around me. 
“Yeah? Ya like that? Takin’ Sy’s cock all the way up in your tummy? Mmm, mmm, mmm, you look so fucking good like this, Sugar. This perfect ass slamming against me as I fuck that sweet, juicy peach.” I tell her and her moans get louder.
“Tell me, Darlin’. Tell me how it feels.” I probe her.
“Ah! Fuckkk! You feel so good, baby. So big and… and full and deep. Fuckin’ me better than I’ve ever had.” 
“Yeah? This is easily the tightest, tastiest little peach I’ve ever had before. You were made for me. Made to take this cock.” I say and she moans. I slide my hands from her hips and grope her ass before putting my thumb around her tight little ring of muscle.
“You gonna let me in here one day, Sugar?” She clenches all around me and I almost blow my load.
“May…maybe.” She says as I continue to rut into her. I add a bit more pressure with my finger and feel her clamp down on me as her second orgasm ravishes throughout her body. 
“Fuck, Sugar, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. I’m gonna cum.” I tell her and she moans as I piston in and out of her at a quicker pace to reach my high. My balls are heavy and full and I grunt as they tighten to my body when my orgasm washes over me. I still as deeply as I can in her wet heat as I paint her insides with ropes of cum and gently drape myself across her back that is now limp on the bed. 
Emma whimpers as I remove myself from her and I quickly push the leaking cum back into her when it starts to leak out. 
“Y’alright, Sugar?” I ask as she doesn’t move.
“Mmm.” She replies and I don’t know if that’s a yes or a no.
“Fucked you speechless huh?” I chuckle as I stand up and turn on the shower. The sweat dripping down my chest makes me want a cold shower, but I know Emma won’t have that so I get the warm water running before I go back to get her. She’s still completely spread out on the bed on her belly like I left her. I roll her over gently before lifting her up bridal style and carrying her to the bathroom. I set her on the toilet and am shocked that she pees without making me leave the room, but I don’t comment on it. She shuffles over to wash her hands before pulling her hair up into a messy bun. I wash my hands and check the shower temperature before she wraps her arms around me. I’m sweaty but she doesn’t seem to care as she rests her cheek against my chest. I aim the water on us and soap us up cleaning the sweat and the remnants of our tryst from both of our bodies. I kiss her forehead gently and she just smiles and nuzzles further into my chest with her eyes closed. After our shower, I quickly dry her off as well as myself before I clean up the clothes thrown around the room. Her little panties are in shreds and I remind myself to offer to pay for them as I throw them in the wastebasket. 
“You’re awfully quiet.” I voice aloud and she smiles.
“I think I’ve been asleep while standing up that whole shower.” She replies and I chuckle.
“You must’ve been. Didn’t even make me leave the room when you went to pee.” I joke and her eyes snap open in realization. 
“Oh my god, I didn’t. You saw me pee.” She says as she places her face in her hands in embarrassment. 
I laugh loudly because she must’ve not even notice me pee after her while she was washing her hands.
“It’s alright, I won’t tell anyone. I peed while you were washing your hands if that makes you feel any better.”
“It doesn’t. I’m so embarrassed. I didn’t even think, your sexpertise made me almost comatose. I claim insanity.” 
“You know I don’t care about that. You could even fart in front of me and I bet it would be adorable.” Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.
“ABSOLUTELY NOT. That would be mortifying. I would have to move out of the country.” She says dramatically and I laugh.
“You really think that we could live a whole life together, married with babies, grandbabies, and even great grandbabies and I wouldn’t see you pee or hear you fart?” I ask her seriously and am surprised when she shyly smiles.
“You think about us living a whole life together?” Truth time.
“Honestly, yeah. I’ve thought about it a few times. I know it’s early on, but it’s nice to think I’d be capable of having a future like that, and it’s even nicer to imagine it with you. Plus, it’s kind of hard not to when Nana is practically marrying us off in every phone call I have with her.”
Emma’s cheeks blush pink and I’m glad I was honest with her.
“I think that sounds amazing.” She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me and I swear my heart beats for this woman.
Part 12
Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood
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steddieunderdogfics · 19 days
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!
i don’t know, you figure it out
Plot Holes
biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!
Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!
She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69
Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH 
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments.  I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)
What is your writing process like?
Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go!   For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:
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This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.  
Do you have any writing quirks?
I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD.   I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.
Which fic are you most proud of?
‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂
How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?
“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.”  And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.
When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?
How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis! (I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)
What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?
@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.  
What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?
This exchange: Steve: “What? I’m just asking!” Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!” Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Like it’s just so them lmao
How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?
You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life? Basically that.
What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?
Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes. 
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it: Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.” It’s me; I’m Critics.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it. 
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3 Secondly: - Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. - Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet.  - Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.) - Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour. - Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce. - Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies) okay thank you love you byeeeee
Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
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chaoxfix · 7 months
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tails + "how long do you think you could hide that" perhaps
The Sonic Boom really should have been warning enough. However, growing up around them meant that Tails had more or less tuned them out. Sonic coming and going at his own speed (Mach 2) was simply a fact of life. 
Plus, Station Square had always been pretty noisy. There could have been a thousand reasons that the sky suddenly shook. Especially since Extreme Gear had just crossed the speed of sound, and plenty of teenagers were using them more often despite them being restricted. (But like, who was going to catch them at that speed? Sonic? Even if the mayor asked him to, he’d just give them a high five.)
So no, Tails did not react. He’d learned to tune them out when working years ago; most of the time, he could even sleep through them.
Fatal error number one, really.
But Tails would never have expected Sonic to turn up here. 
After all, despite being gifted a New Station Square penthouse, Sonic never came here.
At best, it was a place for Sonic to store all the Sonic-The-Hedgehog-themed gag gifts his friends gave him over the years. 
(And yes, Tails is a little creeped out by the sheer amount of it, despite being the one to purchase at least a third of it. When he arrived at night, he’d tried keeping the lights off so he could pretend it wasn’t as decked out as it clearly was in the daytime, but the glow-in-the-dark shower curtain jump-scared him. His tails had stayed bushy for a full half-hour after. Ugh.)
Sonic hadn’t been able to get out of legally owning it, either. So despite still being a nomad in name and practice and worldview, Sonic T. Hedgehog officially had an apartment in New Station Square. Which meant to save face he would absolutely, never, under any circumstances, come here. 
And he especially wouldn’t come here looking for Tails. 
That’s what Tails thought, at least, until, a minute after the Sonic Boom, the door burst open. 
Tails, clad in an oversized Sonic Sez T-Shirt, blinks up at him. As embarrassing as the shirt is, he’s glad he’s wearing it, because what’s underneath is way worse. 
“Way to check in,” Sonic says, in lieu of hello. “‘Yeah, I definitely am going home after this,’” he mimics. “‘I’ll just be working on some software updates for Tailsblr, don’t worry, you can go check out the Spagonia ruins, I’ll be fine!’” 
“I don’t sound like that.” 
Sonic arches a brow. 
“I don’t!” Tails, embarrassed, scrunches his face up in a pursed-lip pout. It’s incredibly tough-looking, he knows. “What are you doing here, anyways?” 
Sonic glances around at the Sonic-themed apartment. “...Are you going to make me say it, or-”
“Never thought you’d call this ‘your’ apartment,” Tails mumbles. 
“Okay, point.” Sonic leans in the doorway, effectively blocking Tails’s only exit, unless he busts open a window. Which he doesn’t want to do. The Sonic-themed-stained glass would be almost impossible to duplicate, and Amy paid good money for that birthday… ‘gift’. “You gonna tell me what you’re doing here, though? And why you haven’t checked in with anyone?” 
Tails crosses his arms over his chest. He definitely doesn’t look petulant. Wincing ruins it, but he does his best to play it off, putting on an annoyed expression he’s not sure Sonic totally believes. “...no.” 
Sonic, predictably, eyes Tails. And the shirt he’s wearing. “I came all this way though?” he says, faux casually. “Nice digs, by the way.” 
“I figured it would be good camouflage.” 
“Hiding from me got that serious, huh?” 
What is there to say to that, exactly? Tails huffs, but ruins it with the way he toes his foot against the ground. Unsocked, because his usual ones are washing – and he couldn’t, surprisingly, find any Sonic-themed socks among the mess. He could’ve found slippers, but his paws were big enough as it was. 
Sonic, as always, takes it upon himself to fix it. He steps closer, unsubtly poking around him trying to find an injury. 
Tails turns away, trying to avoid Sonic getting too close, but it’s a losing battle with a decisive defeat when he winces again. Sonic sees it, because of course he does, and capitalizes on it immediately. 
“We really have to do this the hard way?” 
It sounds almost petulant. Tails huffs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-” 
“It can’t possibly be more embarrassing than hiding here of all places.” 
“Who said it was embarrassing?” 
“Then you’ve got to give me an explanation, because otherwise that’s what I’m going with, bud.” Sonic intentionally challenges him, maybe knows deep down that it’s something else. When Tails doesn’t offer an explanation though, Sonic just sighs. “Alright, guess I’m just gonna assume you’re hiding out here licking your wounds…”
Tails grimaces. There’s no putting it off or getting out of it, is there?
With a sigh, Tails finally stops squirming away, though his tails continue to swish in annoyance. But the battle is over, and he knows he’s lost. So with a grand, over-dramatic sigh, he lifts the shirt, which loosely conceals bandages, and more importantly, a back brace. 
“I have to wear it for another week,” he grumbles, lowering the shirt back down, because an oversized Sonic Sez Stay In School! shirt (...did they even ask Sonic before they made that slogan?) is way less embarrassing than the medical brace. “More, in theory, but by then I’ll be mobile enough to make myself a cool exoskeleton so I can go back to helping.” 
Sonic raises both brows. “I, uh,” he starts, looking for a moment at a loss for words. He stares. 
Tails decides to cut him a break. “I’ve been using the sketch pads here to draft out all the important parts of the exoskeleton,” he continues, “And honestly, I’ll probably keep using it for a while after this heals, because it’ll be useful for heavy artillery. Similar to what I used around the time we met Shadow, just with actual support, because it was pretty uncomfortable-”
“Okay, that’s great, but, I fail to see why you’d… hide that?”
Tails’s whiskers twitch. “It’s hard to move. Meaning I can’t help with anything going on.” 
“Yeah? And that sucks, but it’s not– you should’ve told me.” How long did you think you could hide that, anyways? It's not a big deal, not to be on missions, but- I mean, there's more than matters than just that."
“It's not a big deal, injuries just suck,” Tails cuts in, cutting Sonic off from any other unnecessary worry, or so he hopes. Sonic stares at him blankly. “Besides, you would’ve felt like you needed to check in a ton, and you- you’ve been itching to go and do things again. And it’s important to stop Eggman’s newer plans. I’d just have slowed you down.” 
“Slowed me down.” Sonic tilts his head to the side. “I guess, from a certain kind of view, I could maybe, sort of, see that logic.” Tails almost feels relieved, before Sonic adds, “You know, if I was heartless. Which you know I’m not. So I'm serious, please tell me it's something else.” 
Tails squirms under the scrutiny. He shrinks in on himself, crossing his arms tightly over himself despite the ache it causes. All the while, Sonic is still looking him over, puzzling it through. Letting Tails’s silence and inability to refute that speak for itself. 
Tails sees the exact moment Sonic notices. He cringes. This was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. 
Because the thing is, Sonic always hid away when he was injured or sick or dealing with too much. Sonic was all about the power of friendship, sure – but that was for Eggman. When it came to interpersonal problems, or god forbid physical weakness, Sonic was suddenly a cool loner. He’d always make some offhand comment about seeing a part of the world he hadn’t seen before (a dwindling number every day) and then they wouldn’t see him again for days, weeks, or months. 
And, well. 
It wouldn’t be the worst trait to pick up on. The whole world agreed that Sonic was a cool role model – the whole apartment around him agreed! Why would he be a bad role model here, too?
And if Tails was ever going to be a hero in his own right, too, well… Shouldn’t he learn to take care of himself? 
“Ah,” Sonic says, eloquently. He opens his mouth, presumably for a speech, and comes up short again. He shifts a hand to his chin, clearly thinking hard. 
“I think I smell something burning,” Tails says. 
“Does no one trust me to do speeches anymore?” 
“I honestly think you’ve gotten worse.”
Sonic levels a half-hearted glare, but the tug at the corner of his mouth tells Tails he’s not actually offended. Sonic reaches for his bangs, half-heartedly ruffles them. “Yeah. That’s why I’m trying to take my time and think this one through.”
Tails doesn’t duck away from the affection. But he can’t help but shrink into himself, just a little. Not in a bad way – but he hasn’t felt shy in ages. He feels like a kid again, which is exactly what he was trying to avoid. 
Sonic must pick up on it, because he frowns a little. Then, punches Tails’s shoulder, light enough not to jostle his back. “Growing up doesn’t mean not leaning on your friends anymore,” he finally says. “We’ll always be around. You know that, right?” 
Tails has a lot he could say to that – about being around. 
He wisely keeps his mouth shut. 
Sonic reads into it, sighs despite himself. Of course Tails should’ve guessed it was written on his face. They’d managed years without words. “Okay, yeah, but that’s an extreme circumstance – and you could’ve… should’ve had our friends around,” he says. “If I had actually kicked the bucket – that’s what I would’ve wanted. Our friends looking out for you.” 
The unfairness of it all burns. “It's not an extreme circumstance when you already almost died again.” 
Sonic rakes a hand back through his quills. “I really have gotten worse at speeches,” he mutters. “I don’t know. I’ve always been like this, though, keeping... issues to myself – but you haven’t.” 
On account of being four years old, Tails chooses not to point out. 
“Yes, okay, don’t look at me like that, I know you were a kid and kids need help and that’s okay! Good, even! But I always thought it was nice you didn’t get mad when I did stuff for you, even when you got older.” 
Tails scuffs his goes against the floor again. “Because you like doing nice things for other people.” 
“Sure,” Sonic agrees. “But it’s not like… -I always chose to look after you. Could’ve stopped whenever. Vanilla offered, sometimes. But I didn’t even let Knuckles babysit you unless it was like, an emergency-emergency.” 
Tails’s face feels hot at the mere idea of being babysat at all. Impossible standards, he knows, for being four. 
“I didn’t think you even minded being looked after, since we were always friends, not just… you know.” The word that doesn’t exist, Tails thinks, for their exact kinship. Siblings is closest, but there’s both more and less there, that the word doesn’t always fit. It's a puzzle piece that only mostly matches. “But then you were getting so good at things that had nothing to do with anything I taught you. Doing your own thing, being your own you,” Sonic continues. “...I guess I just never thought you’d take after me so much. I'm surprised, that's all.” 
Tails ducks his head. The shirt is in his field of vision though, and it strikes him as the most absurd thing about all of this. Having a heart-to-heart, after all these years, in a room absolutely suffocated in Sonic merchandise. 
Tails clearly isn’t the only one with a hero worship problem. The whole world seems to agree that Sonic's a role model. 
He can’t quite find the words to say, ‘How could I have possibly taken after everyone else?’ 
“You’re giving yourself a lot of credit,” Tails says, managing a small smile, despite everything. “...Deserved credit, but still.” 
He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, where he knows a gigantic Sonic head plush (six feet tall and just as wide) is looming. A gift from Vector. 
“Saying I’ve got a big head?”
“I think they actually made it to scale,” Tails says with a grin. “But the important thing is… You don't need to think it's all you. You said it yourself, that I have all my own good traits. So I can’t let you act all guilty for my bad traits. Maybe I would’ve been like this anyways, who knows. But you don’t need to take credit, okay?” 
Sonic blinks at him. 
“I’m growing up. And maybe I didn’t need to hide away, or at least I could’ve told you where I was going,” Tails acknowledges. “But those are my mistakes to make. Okay? Not your responsibility.” 
Sonic still looks surprised. But he seems to chew on that, still deciding whether or not to agree. 
But Tails is older now. About as old as Sonic was when he set out against Eggman. 
It’s only fair to give him a little leeway, right?
So Sonic finally nods, still looking contemplative. “Just remember you’re not on your own,” he says. “You’ve got your own thing to figure out – I respect that. But I don’t want you to forget that we’re here because we actually care. What I was saying earlier… the thing is, we’re your friends. It’s not babysitting or looking after you anymore. Even then, we liked you and wanted you around. But now? You’re with us because you’ve got skills, and we want you there. I want you there. So remember that, okay?” 
Tails’s chest feels warm. Pride, he thinks. The pride of knowing he’s made Sonic proud. 
“Okay,” he says, feeling a little more confident. 
Sonic smiles, lopsided. The same smile on most of the trademarked merchandise around them. 
It’s such a perfect match for the poster behind him that Tails has to suppress a laugh. 
“What?” Sonic asks, turning to follow Tails’s eyes. “What’s- Oh, very funny. I can't help that that's my good side. I'm not even doing the thumbs up!” 
Tails grins, but there’s no malice behind it. “Thanks for coming here to check on me,” he says sincerely. “I’m okay though, just sorry for worrying you.” 
Sonic ruffles his bangs again. “You’re never going to have to be sorry for worrying me,” he promises. “I’d miss it too much if I stopped.” 
An hour ago, Tails would’ve felt worse, hearing that. But it doesn’t sting. Sonic can both worry about him, and know that he’s growing up and can make his own choices. 
“C’mon,” Sonic says, officially ending the heart-to-heart. “I put some sonic-shaped cereal in here the other day when I saw it in a store. Five rings says it turns my tongue blue?” 
“You’re on,” Tails agrees, knowing it’s a losing bet.
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thewritetofreespeech · 5 months
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With Christmas coming, could I request Gojo's s/o inviting the students and Nanami over for an extravagant Christmas dinner?
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“Satoru! Can you please go get dressed?”
“Why do we have to get dressed up?” Gojo whined as he came out of the bedroom, still in his pjs with his house sunglasses on, holding a Christmas mug. “We’re literally putting clothes on to sit around the house. It all seems silly.”
“It’s just part of the season.” You replied. Already dressed and lighting the candles on the table you had just set. “Looking your best is just part of the aesthetic. So please go change.”
“Hmmm…forget that. Let’s lock the door and cancel the party. I have a better plan of unwrapping you for Christmas.” Gojo purred as he came up behind you. Wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck as you giggled.
“As fun as that sounds,” you told him, “I already cooked & decorated. So, you’re not getting out of it.” Gojo huffed and gave up on his advances, before sulking off to their bedroom defeated. “And make sure you wear that tie Nanami got you! I’m sure he would appreciate it if you wore it at least once.”
There was a noise that sounded like an affirmative from back in their adjoining bathroom, just as the doorbell rang.
You rush over to the door to grab it and, no surprise, find Nanami there. “Right on time!”
“Thank you for inviting me.” He replied in his usual monotone. Handing you your hostess gifts before closing the door.
“You didn’t have to bring anything. I told you that over the phone.” You told him, but still cooed over the flowers.
“It’s rude to show up empty handed.” Nanami reasoned, taking off his shoes. “The wine is for dinner. The flowers and chocolate are for you. Don’t let that idiot take it from you.”
“Whhhaaa? Nanami! Don’t be like that! Why can’t I have any??” Gojo whined as he came back into the main living area. Dressed and freshly pressed. You weren’t sure why he waited so long if that was how quickly he could get ready.
“Because I assume you haven’t done anything for this.”
Gojo flinched like he had been literally stung, muttering ‘I moved a table…’ before the door rang again.
“Merry Christmas!!” Yuji greeted enthusiastically.
Followed by a more somber Megumi adding, “Merry Christmas [Y/N]-san.”
“Merry Christmas Yuji, Megumi. My, don’t you boys look sharp.” You compliment as they come in past you.
“Thanks! Nobra made us go shopping with her because she said everything we owned was trash, and not fancy enough for a party.”
“She’ll be coming later with Mai-senpai and Toge-senpai. She said she had some extra last minute shopping to do.” Megumi explained while Yuji was still taking off his shoes. “These are for you.”
“Awww…boys. You didn’t have to get us anything.” You coo taking the presents.
“We wanted to.”
“I brought pickled plums!”
“Pickled plums?” You ask Yuji curiously, who seemed so excited as he thrust the container forward at you. “Isn’t that more of an autumn thing?”
“Yeah. I guess. But my grandpa always liked them, so we had them at Christmas still. I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel like Christmas without them to me.”
You realize that Yuji was subconsciously not be talking about the plums. You forget, with everything terrible going on around him and all of you, that he also lost his only living blood relative earlier that year. “Well, I like pickled plums too. Why don’t we find a bowl to put them in on the snack bar while I finish getting everything ready?”
“I can help!”
Nobara and the second year’s show up not long after that. Nobara complained about the Christmas Eve crowds and that there wasn’t anything in the stores. She still managed to compliment your outfit and table setting; snapping a few pics when no one was looking for his Instagram story.
The dinner was as lively as you thought it would be. With a group this size, and this eccentric, it was bound to be. You hung back for a minute by the sliding glass balcony doors with your wine, watching everyone enjoy the evening and your hard work, when Gojo came up to you. “You did good kid.”
“You think so?” You ask. Clinking your glass with his. Sparkling water since he didn’t drink.
“Yeah, everyone seems really happy. Give them a break for a while to forget. That’s why you decided to do this right?”
“I mean partly.” You couldn’t deny it was one of the reasons. “But, I don’t know. I like having people in the house. Take a moment to be grateful and enjoy each other.”
“And that, Tiny Tim, is the true meaning of Christmas.”
“Are you guys talking about A Christmas Carol?” Yuji pipped up from the table with the other teens. “Are we gonna watch it??”
“What’s A Christmas Carol?” Megumi asked. To which Yuji looked shocked.
“What’s A Christmas Carol????”
“It’s a dumb old movie that adults make you watch once a year.” Nobara told him.
“It’s not a dumb old movie! It’s a holiday classic! George C Scott? Patrick Stewart? Ooo! We should watch the Muppet one!”
“Do you even know what a Muppet is Megumi?” Mai asked, to which Megumi just hid in his cup.
“Can we watch it Gojo-sensei, [Y/N]-san? Please, please, please!”
“I don’t think we own it, but if it’s something you can stream, I don’t see why not.” Yuji gave an excited ‘yoohoo!’ and rushed over to your entertainment center to press all the buttons and try to find it.
“I’m gonna to go help him before he breaks something.” Gojo told you before pressing his lips to your temple. “Have I told you today that you’re amazing?”
“You could stand to mention it more.”
“Well, you’re amazing, my little Christmas angel.”
You giggle at Gojo and let him go help Yuji find his movie (secretly with equal enthusiasm). You take another long look, and a deep sigh, before you rejoin the party.
It was good to spend the holidays with family.
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sunnitheapollokid · 1 month
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I DON'T KNOW IF YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN BUT IT'S OKAY CUS I AM AN EXCEPTION!! ( also , your the first person I'm sending a request to so be happy :3 )
okay so it's more than one request but it's up to you if you wanna use them okay sis ?
Okay so we know that Poseidon is lowkie a sucker for fine woman so what if Percy gets a new sibling (a little sister) and Percy takes her around camp and shows her all the cool things ??
a fic where Jason Grace's girlfriend is sick and Jason is like ,, taking care of her and reading books to her because the reader likes books.
Anyways I might end up stealing one of these (i'm an honest young lady okay) but I want you, my favorite sister, to do the honors of making one.. or none, depending on how you feel, of these.
Love, your favorite sister, Zuri ♡
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⚡️┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。ONLY LOVE WILL CURE THEE!
jason grace x fem!reader super short blurb <3
📬 sunni’s notes : AWWW ZURII i haven’t made a jason fic yet so i might as well >0< ugh and ofc you can totally do either of these bebi. I MIGHT DO THE PERCY ONE TOO IT SOUNDS SO CUTE AHHH! omg also WAT?! im so honored 🥹 trying not to let you down fr!!! SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE MY WRITER BLOCK WAS CRAZY AND IVE BEEN SO BUSY WITH DANCE HEHE thanks for your awesome sauce request my favorite sister, sunkisses!!! 💛
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jason was a warrior. a soldier. a son of jupiter. he doesn’t fall into or give out affection so very easily. it’s all about war, and sword fighting, and contsantly fighting for your life.
but he’s also, (name)’s boyfriend. and when his girlfriend so happens to fall ill, this man does not PLAAAY. the blonde had to turn down several quests because she was sick. knowing well that she would try to get up and pretend that everything is okay.
“no. you’re staying in bed and that’s final love.” (name) pressed her lips together in a pout. “but i’ll be bored.” she complained, her head to the ceiling of the infirmary. “i hate sitting in bed all day knowing everybody else is out doing something fun.” jason curved his lips into a grin, “tell you what sunshine.”
remembering the time (name) had spent a week in her cabin just reading this series she had been obsessed with,
the blondie walked out of the infirmary and grabbed a few books from annabeth, in the athena cabin and made his way back to the infirmary. he had three books in his hands, all different colored and different genres.
“got you entertained.” jason carefully placed the books on the bedside, the flowers he had gifted her prior beside the thickly books. she gleamed, “aww.. honey.” she coo’d.
she handed him one of the books and she scooted over, room for an extra person. without her actually saying anything, jason knew exactly what to do. he took the book from her hand and laid beside her.
she quickled leaned her head in his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck. he opened the book and began to read for her,
jason’s voice was the right amount of soft and sweet, while still being able to make some sort of feeling. kind of like honey. the way the words slipped out of his tongue were like heaven to her.
and as much as she liked reading by herself, she thought it was 2x better when jason read for her. and it wasn’t like he couldn’t pass up the opportunity either.
“you still bored.. sunshine?” he turned, a snoring (name) in place. letting a soft chuckle escape out of his lips, he kissed her forehead, “sweet visions, love.”
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