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#i was angry for a year and then suddenly it was gone
authenticmiya · 3 days
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Boston - Chris Sturniolo x Reader
Summary - Based off of the song ‘Austin’ by Dasha. You were Highschool sweethearts and suddenly that all went away.
Words - 1.6k
Warnings - angst /small mention of alcohol
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“We had a plan, move out of this town, baby
West to the sand, it's all we talked about lately
I'd pack the car, bring your guitar and jane for smokin'
First thing at dawn, you'd queue the songs and we'd get goin'
But you weren't home, waited on the porch for ya
Sat there alone, all throughout the morn' 'til I
Got a hunch down in my gut and snuck around the back
Empty cans and I'll be damned, your shit was never packed”
"We hit twenty five thousand subscribers baby." Chris declared excitedly as he burst into his room. You were just chilling, awaiting the finish of the triplets' filming.
"No fucking way!" Excitedly jumping up, he embraced you into his arms.
"I'm so proud of you." You whispered, treasuring the moment as their success was very evident.
"We're gonna be in LA sooner than you think." And that was the promise you knew he'd keep. The problem was, that sentence would have the worst outcome in the future.
"Wrap around porch with a puppy?" He nodded excitedly, oh the plans you guys had ready and waiting. They had been planned for the years you'd been together.
It wasn't unknown that being around the Sturniolo household was a daily ritual. You guys were known as the 'Highschool Sweethearts'. How cliché?
"YouTube is kicking off for us and so will your music Y/N." Chris couldn't stop embracing you, excitement yet anxiety filling both of you. That was potentially the most gut wrenching memory to think about. All of the empty promises and plans.
Just like that, a couple of months had gone by. The 'Highschool Sweethearts' seemingly both on board with the thought of going back and forth to LA. They had hit just short of 500k. You had a label willing to sign you in LA. It was all falling into place and before you knew it, the days were building up to the ultimate move across the states.
"I really hope you know what decisions you're making Y/N. I feel like this is all very overwhelming and too good to be true." Your best friend declared and you looked at her funnily.
"I'm not laughing, has Chris even replied to your last eight messages about your flight tomorrow?" And come to think of it, no he hadn't. But he was definitely just busy finalising his packing, wasn't he?
"I'm going to walk to their house after I add the finishing touches to my suitcases. I tried texting Matt but he's not answering either..." Your thinking face came on immediately but quickly faded when you thought there was nothing to worry about.
"He's definitely just sorting stuff out." You muttered.
"We've been together for nearly three years, I don't think he's having doubts." Defending him again.
"I never said anything about him having doubts, that's on you." And so she left you to your own device of figuring out what really was going on with your boyfriend. She wasn't angry, of course not. However, best friends - true best friends always have the better instinct on situations regarding those they care about.
With Travis Scott blasting through your AirPods, your walk to the Sturniolo household began. It was nearing 2pm. Their parents' cars weren't in the drive once you arrived but the minivan was. You had pre-warned quite literally all three of the triplets that you were on your way over, none replied but Chris had the audacity to leave it on read.
"I'm on your porch and you're ignoring me." Sadness suddenly waved across you. What was the real reason none of them were answering?
"Chris?" You knocked on the door. After a solid 45 minutes, your heart was practically hung. There was one last option, head around the back. What a terrible option to pick, you should've just made your way home.
"What the fuck?" Mixed cans of Pepsi, BUD Light and Dr Pepper pretty much everywhere and what sounded like a Bluetooth speaker somewhere in the back yard. What hurt the most was three very familiar voices could be heard, those of whom had ignored you all damn day.
The question was, do you or do you not go in and make your hurt known to all of them?
"Y/N?" Torn from your heartbroken thoughts, Nate noticed you were there and called you out in front of everyone. Making solid eye contact with Chris, he was like a deer in headlights.
"So, this is what you guys have been up to today?" You questioned, an eyebrow quirked in confusion. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely was now.
"I wanted to call you-" Nick began but was cut short.
"Boys night." Chris stated.
"It's 2pm Chris, hardly a boys night."
"Well we're continuing this through the night." Why was he being so blunt?
"Are you guys all packed and ready for LA at least?" The colour drained from Nicks face, Matt remained silent and Chris was damn right being rude.
"Your shits not even packed?" Everything you were saying seemed to be going over his head.
"Stop fucking ignoring me Chris!" The band had snapped but you were the one breaking.
"Are we going as a team? A couple? A fucking pair of friends? Are we going together at all?" You deemed an answer.
"Jesus Christ Y/N, I can't do this with you anymore. We're gonna be social media influencers and you're gonna jet off on world tours. We've changed, it's not gonna work." Chris' words felt like venom. The cat really had your tongue. Not to forget that he had just called you out in front of everyone both you and him cared about.
"You can't be serious..." You're too strong to cry in front of him, surely you're too strong to cry in front of him.
"Deadly." He stated coldly.
"We might be on the same flight out there but we're not jetting off to the same life like we had here." His triplet brothers were always going to side with him but they had awfully guilty looks as they watched this whole scene unfold in front of them.
"That's it? You're just going to give up on us? You've not even made it to the West Coast and LA has already gotten to your head? What about the wrap around porch?" You didn't even have it in you to stay any longer, the tears were threatening to fall and that was enough to send you running home. Chris had a flash of sadness cover his face but he quickly subsided this, not wanting to let his 'guard' down.
"There's no way that's what just happened." Nick was out of words, confused by his brother and heartbroken for you, his so called best friend.
"Well it did, let's turn up the music."
That was the last you heard from all of them. Chris unfollowing you on Instagram just before boarding your shared flight. Of course without a secure clarification of whether you to were together but it was evident now. If LA was going to be the fresh start then hitting that big red block button was also on your list. You just couldn't do it.
In the studio, a few weeks later.
"Y/N you can take five if the chorus is too much." Your manager politely offered.
"This is the verse, the sealed deal, I'm not backing out of it." You'd gotten a bigger following in a short amount of time. Having one single already teased seemed to bring you lots of attention. Writing songs based on your personal experiences were becoming both a blessing and a curse.
“Did your boots stop workin'?
Did your truck break down?
Did you burn through money?
Did your ex find out?
Where there's a will, then there's a way
And I'm damn sure you lost it
Didn't even say goodbye
Just wish I knew what caused it
Was the whiskey flowin'?
Were you in a fight?
Did the nerves come get you?
What's your alibi?
I made my way back to LA
And that's where you'll be forgotten
In forty years you'll still be here
Drunk washed up in Boston”
You’d proudly gone over your chorus multiple times very well and without tears. The first time you’d written down the lyrics and actually sang them out loud was very different. The feelings and emotions of the situation with Chris really became a reality.
“Y/N, this is gonna be one hell of a fucking hit!” Your manager screeched. Reaching LA, your genre of music was solely gonna be based on your personal preference.
“Hell of a bluff, you had me believin'
How many months did you plan on leavin'?
What happened? Bad habits?
Did you go back? Go batshit?
I loved you, how tragic, oh-oh”
After wrapping up in the studio, you headed straight home. Thankfully you were successful in renting out a 2 bedroom apartment. Of course being in the upcoming limelight was a dream come true but deep down, it was lonely. Three people completely missing out on what would be your success. After a warm bath and some listening to snippets of your single, you couldn’t help but check up on the Sturniolo’s social media’s.
Very quickly, it was a deep regret. They were ‘happy’ and it hurt like hell. Why couldn’t you have all been happy together?
“Alexa why are you fucking playing Kelly Clarkson right now?” You grew emotional, bringing your kneels to your chest as you rested in the sofa.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that.”
“Fuck you.” You muttered.
“Y/N, your song already had two million hits. They’re going to play it on the radio!” You were quick to burst into cheers and tears as your team surrounded you. Your manager silenced everyone and turned the radio up.
“Here we have the new and quite frankly, most requested upcoming artist. This is Boston by Y/N. Her song debuted just three days ago with her team telling us that she worked incredibly hard.” As the song played on the radio, it all became surreal. The small town Boston girl who had always dreamed about this, finally got her wish. One of the producers wrapped you into a hug as you began sobbing.
“You done it and you deserve it, here’s to Y/N!” That night, they had informed you that there was a party. This was all for you to celebrate not only your single, but your future to! Applying the final touches of mascara, your phone pinged.
Instagram
christophersturniolo sent you a message: Boston?
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Not Normal
Summary - What do you do when you walk into your kitchen at 3 AM and a stranger is looking for supplies?
Notes - Takes place soon after the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, hours after the post-credit scene with Bucky in the museum. 1.1k words
*Don’t repost or translate my work without my permission. *These characters and world do not belong to me.
You were dealing with A LOT of things. For one, you were just fired from one of your jobs that morning; two, your phone had suddenly died part way through the day and for whatever reason your charger was not working; three, your grandmother had quickly called to ask when you were getting married after your sister, who was four years younger than you, had gotten engaged the day prior; and four, your groceries dumped everywhere after the bag broke at the bottom. So you were definitely not in the mood to walk into your kitchen around 3 AM to find a stranger rummaging through your cabinets and drawers.
You nearly screamed upon seeing the figure. He was covered nearly head-to-toe in dark clothing. Pants, boots, a t-shirt and hoodie, though his right arm had been removed from the sleeve and the short sleeve of the t-shirt rolled up. He had brown hair that nearly reached his shoulders. Fortunately, you had powers. You didn’t know where they came from, but you had used them enough to feel comfortable to defend yourself, so you just let yourself be angry.
“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” What you hadn’t realized was that the man hadn’t really registered that you were standing there and he quickly swiveled on his heel, raising a gun.
“Who are you?”
‘What the hell kind of a question is that,’ you thought to yourself. You cleared your throat. “The person whose kitchen you just broke into!” You stated, disdain written in your voice. You stood there, looking over the small pile of first-aid things he had piled onto your island kitchen. Before you could ask any questions he was talking again.
“Don’t scream. Just need supplies. Bullet to the shoulder,” he mumbled. He mumbled it so quietly you wondered if he was just trying to reassure himself of what he was doing rather than telling you. The gun was still raised though the arm that held it almost seemed to lose some tension, if that was the right way to put that.
“What are you doing in my kitchen,” you emphasized the ‘my.’ You knew why he was in a kitchen, just unsure of why it was your’s.
He slowly lowered the gun a few inches, but it wasn’t completely facing down. You knew you could protect yourself if you needed to. “Look. I don’t want to start trouble,” he stated a little more forcefully, the muscles in his jaw tightened momentarily before loosening again.
“You started trouble when you broke into MY kitchen!” You stood there, unmoving, unfazed by his slight change in demeanor.
He lifted some gauze from the kitchen island, only staring down at it before speaking again. “Look lady, I just need to patch myself up. Then I’m gone.”
“You’re not going to do it well with one arm,” you responded. Nobody could possibly patch up a bullet wound in the shoulder with one arm. He didn’t respond, just tried to glance over at the wound, before reaching toward it with his other arm which is hidden by the sleeve of his hoodie. “No! You cannot do it with one arm,” you insisted, rolling your eyes. “If you are going to steal my things, don't waste them.” He slowly lowered the gun, though he kept finger around the trigger.
If it was a more reasonable hour you might have kicked the stranger out, but you weren’t about to let him waste the good money you spent on those items. Before he could stop you, and honestly before you were even thinking all of it though you were pulling more supplies out of your kitchen drawers before organizing them a bit more. You forcefully pointed towards the stool. “Sit.”
There is a short pause before the stranger places his gun at his hip and sits in the stool. There is another moment of silence as you wash your hands before standing by his shoulder and letting out a heavy sigh. “Have you removed the bullet?”
The man shook his head. You nodded, knowing it was better to leave the bullet in there than remove it, in case it lodged itself into or near a vein, or other nerve endings. “Good.” You turned on the light hanging above where the mystery man sat to get a better view, before pulling a soft washcloth from the drawer near you and before opening the bottle of saline solution already on the counter. You proceeded to get some saline solution over the cloth before beginning to clean the wound without looking away from your work.
You looked up momentarily, actually getting a better visual of his face under the light. His jaw was clenched and his blue eyes would have been more pleasant except that they were rather stern, cold, calculated, as he looked just past you. Whatever he was feeling in that moment, you would not be able to figure out. His face seemed to be absolutely blank. If he was in pain he was not showing it at that moment.
You then went back to your work, noting for the first time how it did not look horrible, making you wonder how long ago it had happened and how long he had been dodging around people’s homes and taking supplies. You finished cleaning the wound and the area before throwing the washcloth to the side. He was damned lucky to be alive, but his presence was still a bit unnerving so you chose to not mention the fortunate situation of that. You pulled some gauze and slowly wrapped the wound and the area, carefully, making sure to not wrap it too tightly. “There, done.”
You took a few steps back, not bothering to look at your work and pulling a half-full bottle of ibuprofen and Tylenol from the cabinet as he sat there, seemingly unable to move. You shoved them into his other hand, which you realized was gloved, which you thought odd but did not spend too much thinking about it. Something inside of you felt sorry for the man. All you knew was that some guy had been shot and apparently needed to sneak supplies, so maybe that should have been a red flag. What surprised you is that he actually spoke up.
“You’re not normal, are you?” His voice was completely even, face still blank.
“Depends upon how you define normal.”
There was more silence, before he spoke again. “Well, most people probably won’t patch up a guy who broke into their house, then give them medicine.”
“Maybe.” You only shrugged before deciding it was time to sleep. Okay, maybe you helped patch the guy up, but you didn’t trust him enough to let him stay on your couch. For all you knew you were harboring a fugitive. “I do need you to leave now.” He didn’t even nod, just slipped the painkillers into his pocket without another word, before exiting through the main door to your apartment leaving you with a million questions you didn’t get answers to for a few years.
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katsunaksu · 8 months
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stage 3: bargaining
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perenlop · 1 year
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another wc take is that the girlbossification of mapleshade is boring as hell
#why was she suddenly involved in like. everything.#as a crookedstar's promise truther she was honestly at her best in that book imo bc she was one fucked up woman#who took it upon herself to torture the bloodline of a man who hurt her even years after hes gone and no one knows his name#and the descendants have done absolutely nothing to deserve her vitriol. like she was hurting but what made her a villain#was how she took it out on a literal child who was already being treated like shit by his mom#this is also why i dont like takes that are like ''oh shes a good person actually she was just angry and mad and everyone wronged her#and shes actually a nice ghost that helps people'' bc that was never who she was and she was still fucked up for the murder#im not saying shes a bad character for doing that like shes an antagonist and i appreciate her#but i feel like ppl latched onto her being the one female villain and went ''oh my god shes a girlboss shes so awesome and not bad actually'#do u think mapleshade had girlpower when she made a disabled child watch his family die bc of a bloodline he cant control#to an extent its kinda like how ppl treat thistle? who's obviously much much worse than her but like its the same#''oh its bad writing for them to be punished and treated as antagonists bc they had like one nice thing at one point-#and that one nice moment outweighs every single evil thing they did even if it was literal child murder. its ok if ur sad#''#idk i think its obnoxious like its in the books and the fanon at this point and its just made me bored of her character#sometimes less is more and when u start trying to excuse her actions or forcing her into everyone else's story#the character has a lot less impact#like i still remember her ranting at the end of crookedstars promise when she was raging at crookedstar that he shouldnt have been born#i dont think i remember anything from like. tigerclaws fury or whatever.#echoed voice
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the-fandom-crossroads · 8 months
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Folks talking about Game Devs dropping Unity or how it won't hurt small indie devs with under 200,000. Are missing the point.
Some of these Unity games can't change to another engine because they have years of code piled on top of each other at this point. aka POKEMON GO. They'd basically have to rebuild the game from scratch.
Not to mention Unity is mostly used by phone app games or Indie's that are lucky enough to get picked up by console. Indie games on Mobile easily pass 200,000 downloads. Temple Run 1 and 2 are in Unity, Crossy Road, Angry birds 1 and 2, and Hearthstone. All of these past 200,000 downloads years ago but aren't bringing in money now except hearthstone.
The Developers will do what happened to the first Angry birds app. They'll take it down, build it in a new engine for "HD", and add a shit ton of micro transactions. We are about to lose countless original versions of the OG pre lootbox mobile games.
We are also about to lose some of the biggest Indie games of the last decade. Among Us, Plague Inc., 7 Days to die, the original Slenderman game and it's sequel, I am Bread, Ori and the Blind Forest, Dream Daddy, Overcooked 1 & 2, Pathfinder online, Cup Head, Bendy and the Ink Machine, Oxygen Not Included, Bloons Tower Defense 6, Beat Saber, Subnautica, The Stanley Parable, Untitled Goose Game, Power Washing Simulator, Fall Guys, Inscryption, Phasmophobia
And the big one FUCKING HOLLOW KNIGHT. Silk song has already been pushed back out of this year specifically because it's being made by a team of like 3 people. It is so close to being finished and now they are being told they have to start over from scratch basically. Hollow Knight got over 200,000 downloads from being on playstation and was eventually put on Playstations subscription service. Every cent they made from hollow knight has gone back into making silk song. Which might now be delayed by multiple years and oh they are going to have to use some of that funds to pay unity now. Or find a way to get out of a contract with playstation. Because folks will keep downloading Hollow Knight for free and Unity will send the Hollow Knight team the bill.
oh and there's one more teeny tiny game made in Unity that you guys might not want to suddenly disappear. One with almost 3 years of monthly code updates, one with 139 million downloads to date, and 4.8 million monthly users.
Genshin. Guys Genshin Impact is made completely in Unity and that's not a game that can have it's code just copy and pasted to another engine.
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galariangengar · 10 months
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💭
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yeollie-plz · 6 months
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Fill
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Miguel O’Hara x F! Reader
Synopsis: You babysit Mayday, it puts thoughts into Miguel’s head.
Genre: smut!
Warnings: smut, 18+, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, p in v sex, kissing, biting, fingering, choking, spanking, daddy kink slipped in there at the end
Gif credits to owners!
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Miguel was expecting to come home to his beautiful wife, eat some food, maybe make love to her, and bask in each other’s warmth until they fell asleep. What he sure didn’t expect was to come home to said wife babysitting Mayday for Peter. You might have forgotten to mention to Miguel that you were babysitting tonight.
Honestly, you didn’t mention it because you didn’t want him to say no and Peter and MJ really needed the night out. No baby. So now you and your husband were going to have a night in. With a baby.
To say Miguel wasn’t thrilled would be an understatement. He was borderline angry with you at the “slip” of your mind. It’s not like Miguel hated Mayday in any aspect but the thought of you holding a baby brought up strange feelings inside of him.
He had tried for the year that Mayday has been around to try and push those feelings down. But every time he saw you even glance at the baby had him all in a fit. Miguel didn’t think he’d ever be ready for a child again, but seeing you so motherly was changing his mind.
I mean, he didn’t think he’d ever want to get married again and there you were changing his plans.
You two have had the baby talk before, as well. You were always so understanding of his past and never pushed him too far. But he did notice the disappointment on your face when he had said he never wanted kids.
Never? Why had he said never? It was such a harsh conclusion and in recent months, it was one he was regretting making.
He could imagine you now, belly full of his seed, a prominent bump showing what the two of you had made.
Shit. He needed to get those images out of his or he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
Shaking his head Miguel retreated to the kitchen, leaving you to continue to play with the baby uninterrupted. Busying himself with looking through the cabinets, like he wanted to cook something.
“Miggy?” You questioned as you entered the kitchen, Mayday perched on your hip. He turned and took in the sight, imagining what a mini you would look like. He sighed.
“Did you want me to make you something to eat?” You were trying to read the look on his face.
“No.” He grumbled and pushed pass you and into the living room.
“Miguel, I know you’re mad that I didn’t tell you. But it was an honest mistake. Plus, you know I love Mayday and since we-“
“Don’t.” He cut you off. Your mouth snapped closed at what you were about to say. Before you could apologize Miguel made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door closed behind him. You blinked in shock, you didn’t want to start a fight in front of poor little Mayday. This would have to be brought up later.
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It was nearing the time that Peter was supposed to arrive to pickup Mayday. You were a bit sad to say goodbye to her but you were also exhausted. Suddenly, you understood why Peter didn’t even change out of his pajamas most days. Especially with a spider baby!
She stuck to everything! And being someone without powers, your knowledge on the matter wasn’t very strong. Sure, you knew a lot about Miguel’s powers but he was what…Spider-Man number 30 out of 1 million? You wished you could ask Miguel for some help.
Eventually you figured out the best way to unstick Mayday was to distract her. Show her a toy, play peekaboo, maybe give her snack. Anything to keep her hands busy and off your ceiling. You hadn’t heard Miguel much through the night. You figured he had gone to sleep or was silently doing some work.
When you agreed to watch Mayday, you hoped the two of you would be able to do this as a team. But obviously, that thought was all wrong.
Peter came about 30 minutes later, knocking on your door. Miguel heard the door open, a few words being exchanged, and a rush of thank yous as the door shut once again. In a few quick steps you were moving across the house and throwing open the bedroom door. Miguel’s wife was not happy.
“Really Miggy? Slamming my doors now?” Usually the tone of her voice would make Miguel instantly apologize but he was too wound up to care.
“Yes I’m slamming our doors!” His voice was slightly raised as he gave a lackluster response, cringing at himself.
“All this and because I decided to help Peter out! You know they never get to go out. We are their friends Miguel, we should be helping them out!”
“I don’t mind helping out our friends, but this favor…I just.” He groans, running his face across his face and through his hair. His usually tight posture, slumping in exasperation.
“What Miggy? What is so aggravating about that little baby?” Your hands were on your hips, face turning red with your increasing anger. He was not going to get away with throwing this tantrum.
“It’s not the baby that is aggravating! It’s me seeing you with the baby!” His eyes soften as he admits the truth.
You were shocked, not understanding the meaning behind his words, “I’m the aggravating one?”
“No! Mi amor, it’s how I can’t get the thought of you round and pregnant out of my mind. The image of you running around chasing a child that we created. I thought after everything that I would never want that again but…”
It finally clicks, “You’re mad we don’t have a baby!”
“I’m mad I’m not inside you right now putting a baby in you” His eyes darken and rake across your form.
He crosses the room in three long strides, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling your body into his. His lips ghost along your neck, his hot breath creating goosebumps on your skin.
His mouth reaching your ear, whispering, “Do you want that? Want me to get you pregnant, baby?”
You can only whimper in response, which eggs Miguel on further, finally connecting his lips to yours. Desperation coats the kiss as he basically devours you.
He nips at your lower lip, pulling away. Looking down at you he takes a step back, your body reacts instinctively and tries to close the distance again. He stops you by cupping your clothed core. A strangled noise passes your lips as he uses his other hand to pull your dress over your head.
“Mmm, wore this like you knew I’d want easy access. Always so eager for this cock, hm?” His deep voice and words cause you to get even wetter.
The hand on your core moves a bit to tease you. He feels your wetness, moaning in satisfaction.
“I might not even need to prep you, baby. Wanna breed you like you weren’t meant to be bred.”
His hand grips your neck leading you towards the bed. The hand now makes it way behind your neck and brings your lips to his once again. The force causes you to moan.
“Why don’t you get on all fours for me?” He says it like a question, but you know it’s a command.
You do as you were told and get onto the bed on your hands and knees. You let your knees naturally rest a bit apart, knowing that he will just adjust you if he needs it. A hand runs down your spine, sending a shiver down with it. It reaches your ass and gives a squeeze before landing a firm smack there. Suddenly you hear a rip and feel your wet core exposed to the cool air. You glance down realizing that he had torn off your underwear.
You gasp, “Miggy!” Usually you would’ve found this extremely hot, if those weren’t your favorite panties!
“I’ll buy you new ones. Besides until you’re pregnant you’re not leaving this bed. You won’t be needing panties for a while.” Okay, now it’s hot again.
He doesn’t wait for you to respond and inserts a finger inside of you. He pumps the finger in and out quickly, testing how wet you are.
“Already all wet and ready for me. Just how I like you.”
Quickly, he pulls the finger out and before you can even protest at the loss he pushes his dick fully inside of you to the hilt. Another gasp passes your lips at the intrusion. He gives you no time to adjust before setting a pace, ravaging your body with his thick cock.
He continues his assault, pushing deep inside of you before pulling out almost completely and repeating the action. The force of his thrusts are making it hard for you to think, let alone hold yourself up. But when you start to fall to your elbows, his hand is quickly wrapped around your throat holding you up.
“Have you at the perfect angle, can feel all of you.” Is all he says as his fingers tighten on your throat. Your vision goes black from the intense pleasure.
He fucks into you harder as the pressure of his fingers releases slowly, letting some air back into your lungs. When you have enough air, you are moaning out as a particular thrust hits the perfect spot.
“Miggy please, need you to make me cum. Need your cum in me.”
His large body incapsulates yours at your confession. The hand that was on your throat makes it way down to your clit, rubbing circles into it. His teeth bite down into your shoulder, sending a shock of pleasure through you as you cum hard onto his cock.
The clenching of your orgasm causes him to groan and falter a bit, before he regains his head and pace.
“Mmm, gonna cum in you baby. Gonna make you a mommy.” He says as he shoots his seed into your awaiting womb. His orgasm seems longer and stronger than usual as he bites your shoulder once again.
After he recovers, he releases your throat, letting you fall into the plush sheets. Miguel slides out of you and pulls your body into his. He rubs your back in slow circles, calming you both down.
Eventually you speak up, “So what do you think? Think it worked, daddy?” Lust drips from your voice at the name.
“Fuck, maybe, and even if it didn’t I’m ready to go again. Just want you so full of my cum that you can feel it with every breath.”
And fill you he did.
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captainfern · 2 months
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You Know You're Right
Captain John Price x fem!reader
["You Know You're Right" by Nirvana]
[18+]
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•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
• summary - an argument with your bodyguard ends a lot differently than you anticipated lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.6k • warnings - fem!reader, thick girl friendly ofc, bodyguard!price, protective/jealous!price, oral [f!receiving], angry!sex but not really, he calls you a slag once i'm so sorry but he doesn't mean it i swear, unprotected (obviously) piv, reader has a breeding kink but price is like babe chill, but he also has one, so uh yeah breeding kink (obviously), reader is on contraceptives tho x, dirty talk, praise, degradation, strong language, 99% porn 1% plot • also to note: reader is a wealthy woman in the english countryside. sorry to all my american cuties but you can be a sexy british heiress for a while x
and the uniform stays on 🙏
my contribution to @glitterypirateduck price writing challenge for this month. sorry for the lack of work recently. uni's a bitch. and sorry for any mistakes lol anyway enjoy x
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
You don't know how long John Price had been your bodyguard for. You honestly couldn't recall the amount of days, weeks, months, years it had been since you had first met him.
Of course, you remember the day itself, the events, the moment you first met him. A crisp, autumnal morning with the trees around you alit with oranges and reds, and you stood on the front steps of your grand country estate as a couple of military-grade hummers pulled up in front of you.
You remember a few armed men spilling out onto your driveway, clutching M16's or AR15's or whatever the fuck they were because you weren't paying attention to them. You were paying attention to the man that followed behind them.
A man who, as the armed soldiers-of-sorts fanned out and scanned their surroundings, approached you with a warm smile that melted the early-morning chill from the air. With deep eyes that heated you more than the fuzzy housecoat you had bundled around you.
He offered his hand, and you shook it. His hand was warm too.
And the way he spoke– oh fuck, his voice. Flint striking steel and fire crackling from it's spark. A smoker. A man who, all so suddenly, sounded much too experienced to be the bodyguard of a wealthy woman in the English countryside.
"John Price," he had introduced. "S'a pleasure, miss."
You then smiled politely in return and introduced with your name. He chuckled lightly, commenting something along the lines of oh, I know who you are, miss which made your body grow even warmer.
You had looked up, ignoring the fact he was still holding your hand gently in his, and gestured to the three young men who were pacing around the front of your house, weapons drawn. "Will these gentlemen be staying with you for the entirety of your stay?"
He shook his head ruefully. "No, miss. They'll be gone within the hour. Just ensuring they know their way 'round in case they need to get here in a hurry."
You looked back down at him, arching a brow and finally removing your hand from his. He dropped his arm with a clearing of his throat, bringing his hands up to clutch the top of his vest.
"Will they need to get here in a hurry?" You challenged, almost jokingly, but John saw no joke. A joke about your safety is no joke he'd dear indulge in.
"No," he said sternly and quite quickly, you remember. "But it's just precautions. No, don't you worry, sweetheart. You're in safe hands. I assure you that."
Sweetheart.
Perhaps you remember the first meeting with John Price because it was the very first time he referred to you in such a way. Sweetheart. Now, a little over a year later, he still refers to you as such, but also–
"Morning, love. Sleep well?" He'd ask when you emerge from your bedroom in the morning.
Or,
"There she is. Rough night, pet?" He'd quip when you finally decide to show yourself about late-afternoon after a night out with your friends.
Or even,
"Need a hand with that, darling?" He'd offer when you found yourself struggling to carry the many shopping bags through the door.
Oftentimes, the way he spoke to you, the way he referred to you, was like you two had been married for years. And it wasn't only the way he spoke to you that had you going to bed giggling and kicking your feet like a girl with a crush.
Lingering touches and long hugs and kisses to the top of your head. John was always so warm and welcoming. His presence crackled like a fire in winter, lulling you to sleep or to a state of comfortability. If it was any other man, you wondered if you'd be weirded out by the closeness of him– but because it was John, everything just felt... right.
Riding horses in the springtime, and he'd assist you into the saddle with big hands running down your sides and legs, settling you onto your sturdy steed with a squeeze to your knee. He'd ride on a seperate horse if you wanted to canter through the forest; or he'd walk alongside yours if you were only taking a lazy stroll across the pastures.
Swimming in the summertime, and he'd smooth oils across your exposed skin. You'd revel in the way his large palms moved against you, such a strong man being so incredibly gentle. He'd watch you swim, his eyes occasionally darting up and around, before settling back on you again. He always declined to join you, angling that silly little boonie hat of his over his eyes to shield the sun's rays.
Keeping you warm in the wintertime, letting you snuggle up beneath furs and blankets on your couch while he chopped firewood outside, bringing the axe down again and again until he had enough kindling to keep the fire running for days to come. You'd watch him work up a sweat, muscles stretching and contracting beneath his shirt. Your entire body would flush with warmth.
But sometimes... sometimes the two of you didn't get along so well. And it wasn't your fault, you didn't think. You honestly found Captain John Price so confusing at times, especially now that the two of you had known each other for quite some time.
Partying with your friends, and you'd attract the attention of some poor man who didn't know what he was getting himself into. He'd smile at you, offer you drinks or a smoke or whatever you wanted, his hands beginning to wander as the music seemed to grow louder and louder and the colours around you blurred together. You'd laugh and dance and sing with your friends, this man actively engaging with you and–
It never lasted.
Price would swoop in. Sometimes before the stranger could offer you a drink, sometimes after. Sometimes the man never got the chance to even speak to you, with your bodyguard planting himself firmly in front of you and blocking your would-be pursuer.
You were never one to complain. After all, it was his job to protect you. But you didn't like when, after getting home in the early hours of the morning, he would roughly escort you to your room, ensure you wouldn't be sick, then leave without another word.
He'd be better by the morning.
And this became a cycle. A cycle of trying to combat the winds of a hurricane. Impossible, really. You just had to brace yourself.
But you were sick of bracing yourself. You were sick of getting fucking cock-blocked by your ex-military bodyguard. You were an absolutely gorgeous, rich woman living on her own in the countryside, and you fucking deserved to find someone. You, frankly, deserved to get fucked.
"I'm going out tonight," you told Price as you emerged from your bedroom. You were already dressed, looking impeccable as always.
Price lounged in one of the chaises positioned in the hallway outside your bedroom. He glanced up from his phone, glanced back down, and then did a double take. His eyes shot up again and he immediately pocketed his phone as he got to his feet, knees cracking with the speed of it all.
"I– you said you were just going out for a few drinks with friends?" He countered, eyes skimming up and down your frame. But not for any longer than a second, you don't think. Forever the gentleman, his eyes honed in on your face, his gaze already beginning to melt the icy facade you'd put in place.
But you steeled your nerves.
"I am," you said with a smile.
"You're going into the city? I'll have to organise a driver–" Price began, but you cut him off with a shake of your head. You didn't live too far from the main city, but it was still a significant drive for simply a few drinks.
"No, no, we're just popping into town," you said, referring to the small, quaint town less than five down the road. "Having a few drinks at the pub. Nothing big."
You and your friends were regulars at the pub. And John frowned. He knew that the other regulars– a group of men you'd become familiar with– would also be there.
You clocked his frown and your smile grew. "What's the matter, John? Am... Am I not allowed to go?"
He huffed. "No, you can go, but just let me–"
"Oh, no need," you said with a batter of your eyelashes. You told him you'd organise your own driver. "And you don't need to come. I'll only be a couple of hours."
John's jaw tensed, and you could see the muscles moving beneath his facial hair.
"No," he said firmly. "I'm coming."
Your smile faltered. "No, you're not. I'm fine, John. Have a break. If it makes you feel any better, I'll be back before midnight–"
"That doesn't make me feel better," John growled. "I... I have no problem with you going out, but I need to come with you. I– I am coming with you, end of story."
Your smile had disappeared completely now. You then looked him up and down. He was dressed how he usually did, even around the house. A suit complete with the trousers and white dress-shirt. But he wore his kevlar vest over top, and with a belt stocked with a couple of sidearms and ammunition, he didn't exactly look inconspicuous. At least he wasn't wearing his boonie hat.
"Price..." You began. "Please, just... I'll be fine, okay? Can you just let me do something on my own–?"
"No."
You frowned. "John–"
"It's my job to protect you, is it not?" He cocked his head, daring you to challenge him. "You hired me to protect you. You pay me to keep an eye on you since there are a couple of real fuckwits out there that would want to hurt you, right? So why the fuck would I let you leave here alone?"
He took a step forward, opening his arms in a gesture of so?
Your frown deepened. "I deserve some privacy, you know. I appreciate that you look out for me, but I want to be able to enjoy myself in public without..."
John waited, but urged a mocking, "Without...?"
You scoffed. "Without you hovering over me. I just want to... enjoy myself, okay? I want to meet people–"
"Oh," John suddenly said, and his tone was less of realisation, more of discovery. "I see."
You scowled. "What?"
"You want to get fucked, is that it?"
Your mouth dropped open. "I–"
"No, no, it's okay, sweetheart. It's okay," he tutted, shaking his head as you stood there, embarrassment suddenly festering in the pit of your stomach, as he appraised you like you were a whole new person. He sighed. "You want me gone so I don't stop the lads from flocking to you. Is that it? You want me to let you go out on your own so you can get one of those boys to fuck you?"
The shame in your stomach, pulling and pushing at your conscious, fizzled out and was instead replaced by a new flame of self-determination. You took a step closer to your bodyguard and jabbed a finger into the taut material of his tac vest.
"You have no right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck, got it? I can do what the fuck I want. I'm a grown woman, Price," you seethed. "Secondly, yeah, I might just get one of the guys at the pub to fuck me. I bet they would, you know. I bet he'd bend me over his knee and–"
"Stop talking," John rolled his eyes, and the gesture made you a whole lot angrier. But he continued before you could say anything else. "You're not going. You can throw a fit if that's what you want, but you're not going."
Throw a fit. You wanted to slap him for that. But you didn't. Even though you were growing angrier and angrier at the man before you, there was something inside your brain that prevented you from going that far. Maybe it was the fact that... seeing him so protective of you... made you feel...
You shook your head to send the thoughts away. You're meant to be angry at him, babe.
"Fuck you," you spat, since those were the only words that managed to come to the forefront of your mind.
He grunted. "Yeah, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just a needy fuckin' slag looking for a quick fuck–"
You raised your hand to slap him. You wanted to strike your palm across his handsome face. A slag? Who the fuck does he think he is–
Price grabbed hold of your wrist before you got within inches of his cheek. And, quickly, you realised you'd made a huge mistake.
In seconds, he had your soft body pinned against the wall beside your bedroom door. He pinned you there with his body, hard and firm against yours, one large hand holding your wrist and nailing it to the wall, while the other grabbed your other wrist and held it by your side.
His face was close to yours. You could smell him. Rich oud, the warmth of some sort of spice note, expensive tobacco–
Your core fluttered.
Oh, fuck off–
Price shoved a knee between your legs, parting them and forcing a yelp from your throat at the way he dragged himself impossibly closer. The taut muscle of his thigh beneath you made you scream within your head, silently begging that the warmth of your clothed cunt didn't give anything away because-
You were fucked.
Fucked off, yes. Angry at him, yes.
But he was also turning you on in a way that no man has ever done before.
"D'you want'a try that again?" He whispered, the words ghosting across the heated skin of your face.
When you didn't respond right away, he pushed his knee up higher, shifting his hips closer to yours, humming out an impatient, "Hm?"
You shook your head.
"Didn't think so."
You frowned. "You're such an arsehole."
"I know," he said, words hushed. "But you fucking love it, don't you?"
The both of you paused. Breathing jaggedly, you looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, a storm passing between the two of you, complete with the crackling of thunder. You could feel him breathing against you, and you willed yourself not to look down at where your bodies were flushed together. Instead, you remained calm.
You watched the way his eyes darted across your face. How they lingered on the curves of your cheeks, or the part between your lips. His eyes scanned over your nose, your eyes, your everything. You could almost hear his brain trying to keep up.
You could feel your core growing warmer and warmer, arousal pooling and no doubt tangible. Without a doubt he could feel it against the material of his trousers, soaking through to his thigh. It was already drenching your underwear, and probably ruining his suit.
God, you loved him in a suit.
"What are you waiting for?" You whispered your challenge, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat between you.
Price groaned and he released his hold on your wrists. Instead, he grabbed the fat just above your hip in one hand and wrapped the other around your jaw, before he was pushing forward and slamming his mouth to yours.
•º•º•
John Price didn't know how long it had been since he fell in love with you. He honestly couldn't recall the number of days, weeks, months, years it had been since the moment he first saw you.
But of course he remembers what the day was like– how beautiful and welcoming and soft you looked, bundled in your expensive housecoat with a sliver of your leg exposed to the chilly autumn breeze. He remembers the bright smile, tired but bright, you had offered him as he walked up to you and extended his hand. He remembers the way your hand felt within his, and how he didn't want to let go.
He remembers how his heart lurched in his chest when you introduced yourself, and he recalls feeling nothing but sincerity for the fact a pretty woman like you needed to be protected by someone like him. Oh, but how gorgeous you looked when you thanked him for his service. The almost-guiltiness didn't last for long.
You were always so sweet to him. Even when he put you in your place, told you what you could and couldn't do for your own safety. You were constantly being kind to him. Respectful and polite and understanding.
You were such a good girl.
And as the days passed, as they blurred into weeks and months and finally a year-ish together, you got all the more sweeter. But–
But you now knew him. You knew what made him tick. You knew exactly what to do to get your way. Saunter through your home with a pretty, coy smile and a soft hand on his bicep and of course, sweetheart, we can go into the city today. Or a well-cooked meal of his favourite food, paired with a pint if you really wanted to get into his good books, and okay then, love, I'll call your driver to take us.
You knew how to deal with him. And he let you, of course.
But as the months went by, Price couldn't help but grow resentful. His pretty girl, being chatted up by some absolute mingers in a big-city nightclub. Or maybe even the village idiots down at the local pub. How dare they?
He found himself growing more annoyed that they approached you, instead of worried that they could cause you harm. Sure, they were still a threat, and Price was doing his job. But also, also, they were encroaching on what was his. What belonged to him.
His good girl.
And he supposed he should have seen this coming– an argument bubbling up and over about it all. About how he was always there when you just wanted to socialise and have a good time. How he was always turning guys away from you. It wasn't fear, and John understood that. But he was firm in his thinking– you were his.
Oh fuck, you even looked gorgeous when you were angry at him. When you were spitting and hissing like a feral cat, and even with your claws unsheathed and swinging right towards his face, he found you to be the most ethereal being on the planet.
His pretty girl.
He didn't mean to call you a slag. Of course he didn't mean it. His anger conjuring into stupid fucking words that he couldn't keep hidden in his head. And even then his anger wasn't to you, but to the local fuckwits who haunted the village pub in the hopes of spending time with you.
Delusional cunts.
When John caught your wrist and pinned you to the wall outside your bedroom, he didn't mean to escalate things. He was angry at himself, angry for saying such filth to you. But then–
But then he felt it. His heart hammering wildly against his ribcage and your chest rising and falling rapidly. He felt the way you squirmed against him, how you arched off the wall and how your barely clothed pussy seemed to throb against the muscle of his thigh. He could feel your warmth through his trousers, feel your need.
His needy girl.
And he was more than happy to indulge you. Hell, he was more than happy to indulge himself.
•º•º•
John's mouth on yours was hot. Liquid heat passing between you, sparks flying as he pulled you closer by the hand on your jaw. He split your lips with his tongue, pushing inside with just as much strength as you anticipated. His lips against yours smeared your gloss, sticky and sweet, mixing with the spit that threatened to drip as he licked into your mouth again and again, chasing the taste of you.
You moaned into it, eyes shut and hands wrapping around his neck. Fingers delved into his hair, tugging and pulling and angling his head to get yourself closer. He groaned in response, pushing his pelvis closer to yours, and you could feel him growing in his suit trousers.
Then, you began to move. You followed him blindly, your eyes still closed as you attempted to keep up with the languid rhythm of his tongue. He licked at your teeth, your tongue, your lips, committing your taste to memory.
You'd never been kissed like this before.
You were walking backwards, guided by Price's large hands. He had two hands on your waist now, holding you flush to him as he slowly edged you back, back, back until the backs of your legs bumped into something. Your bed.
You broke the kiss, surprised, and turned your head to the side to see that yeah, he'd navigated you both back into the warm, lovely-smelling oasis of your bedroom. As you looked to the side, your bodyguard continued his mission, dragging his lips along your jaw and then latching his mouth onto your neck.
He groaned, tasting more of you. He'd imagined what you'd taste like, imagined the saltiness of your skin his lips. He now knew what your mouth tasted like. All was left now was–
John forced himself away, grumbling to himself and gently pushing you back onto the bed and into a sitting position. You smiled up at him, and he shifted to stand between your parted legs, cupping your face in two hands. He bent down to place one last kiss to your lips, before slowly– with cracking knees and a shallow grunt of effort– he lowered himself to his knees.
His hands dragged down your body. They rolled over your shoulders and arms, skimming lightly over the curves of your breasts and stomach, running over the fat of your hips and thighs. When his knees hit the, thankfully carpeted, floor, he gripped your knees and gave you a couple of comforting squeezes.
"Alright, sweetheart?" He asked, voice husky and full of yen– desire and longing mirrored in his eyes.
His eyes on you, his hands dragged back up your thighs and to where your skirt sat bunched a few inches below your hips. He pinched the fabric, toying with it while waiting for your response.
You nodded at him. "M'alright."
"Can..." He dropped his eyes for just a second to look at your skirt, before raising them again. "Can I take this off, please?"
You nodded again, followed by a whispered yes, please. You then raised your hips for him to pull the fabric down and away from you, shuffling back to rip it down your legs and fling it across the room. You giggled at his enthusiasm as he returned to his original position.
Price groaned low in his throat and leaned forward, holding your thighs apart. Your underwear still on, he pressed his face against you, his beard tickling the softest part of your inner thighs. His nose pressed onto your clit, his lips placing a kiss to your clothed core. This forced a moan from your throat, and you gripped your duvet for some kind of stability.
He kissed at the patch of arousal that had bled through during your altercation in the hallway, his nose nudging against your clit as he decided to swipe his tongue against you. He groaned and you keened, a high pitched mewl, your legs twitching either side of his head.
"Pretty girl..." He whispered, the rumble hitting your clit and making you mewl out again.
He kissed at your clothed cunt again, tongue smoothing along the thin cotton fabric until the entire area was wet with his spit and your arousal. Your legs twitched beside him, pleasure sitting fuzzy in the base of your tummy, and you wondered– no, you knew that he could probably make you come in your fucking underwear.
But he didn't. Whether you were thankful for that or not, you weren't entirely sure. But he eventually, and rather torturously, pulled away for long enough to pull your underwear down your legs. He let it fling from your ankles, not caring where it landed, before he was pushing back between your legs once more.
This time, he licked a fat stripe up your cunt before latching his mouth to your clit and sucking. You cried out, a hand shooting down to grab hold of his hair, fisting it tightly as he laved his tongue over you. His mouth was hot, burning at your core, but your body had now been set alight– the flame of pleasure coursing through your veins, heating your body. Your legs trembled now, thighs flexing either side of his head, his facial hair scratching and tickling you all at once.
John's movements were quick. Quicker than you expected. He seemed desperate for it as he licked back down your cunt and stuffed his tongue into your hole– in and out, in and out– before curling and repeating the process. You moaned at his well-timed movements, never leaving you dissatisfied or overstimulated in the slightest. Price was amazing.
He kneaded the fat of your thighs as he ate you out, enjoying the softness of you around his head. His cock was hard and leaking in his trousers, and one of the reasons he wanted you to quickly come on his tongue was so that he didn't bust a fat load in his fucking briefs. He couldn't handle that today. Not when he'd been waiting so long to have you.
"John," you moaned, stretching the syllables. Your hips bucked, his nose catching your puffy clit. You ground against him, moans bubbling from your throat as you tossed your head back. You rode his face, locking your ankles together at his back and anchoring yourself with one hand on the bed and the other in his hair.
He moaned in response, eyes on the way your body writhed above him. He loved the way you bucked up, wriggling in search of your coming high. Fuck, you looked gorgeous.
John screwed his eyes shut and focused on curling his tongue in and out of your sopping hole. He felt his cock twitch. If he looked at you again, he was sure he'd come.
You moaned sweetly above him, orgasm building tight in the base of your tummy. You continued rocking your hips, the mattress creaking quietly beneath you. But the sounds from your mouth, coupled with the wetness of Price's mouth on your pussy, was all that rang true in your ears.
"John, fuck– oh fuck, please–" You mewled, edging on a whine. Desperation was creeping in. You hurtled towards your high.
Then, you felt deep vibrations rock through your core (unbeknownst to you, John had mumbled a that's it, come for me, baby against your hole). The band of pleasure inside you snapped, and with one last push of your cunt into his face, you came.
You moaned John's name, head still tossed back as pleasure fizzled through you. Your thighs clamped down on either side of his head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you came on his tongue. John happily buried himself deeper into your heat, tongue licking you slowly through your orgasm.
He had looked up, chanced it, and watched you come. He managed to hold on and not come in his briefs, but he could feel the front of them growing tacky with his precum.
A few moments later, ensuring your orgasm had been well wrung from your beautiful body, John withdrew from your cunt. He unbound himself from your legs and got to his feet as you blinked up at him, dazed and fuzzy.
"Feeling good, sweetheart?" John asked, gently and carefully guiding you further up the bed. You crawled with him until your head hit the pillows at the top of the bed and John knelt between your legs, his hands rubbing circles over your bare thighs.
"Yeah... good..." You replied lazily, eyes dropping down to where you could see John's cock straining in his trousers. The sight made you moan, and you attempted to sat up, but Price stopped you.
"Hold on, sweetheart..." He murmured, placing a kiss to the top of your head before helping you out of your top. In companionable silence, he discarded the garment and went to work unclipping your bra, letting your breasts spill out as he discarded that too.
He groaned, happily to himself, reaching forward to roll one of your pebbling nipples between his fingers, his other hand groping the opposite breast.
"Fuckin' beautiful..." He muttered, and then leaned forward to kiss you.
You tasted yourself on him as he guided you back down. A soft tang, a subtle sweetness in his saliva. You moaned, fingers once again moving to card through his hair and stroke the back of his neck, just above his shirt collar.
While you kissed, Price slipped one hand between you and unbuckled his belt. He let the belt hang open while he deftly unbuttoned his trousers and peeled them open just enough for him to reach into his briefs and pull his cock out. He hissed into the kiss, his hand on his own achingly hard cock causing pre to dribble down his shaft.
"Fuck..." He muttered into your mouth, and you pulled back, shifting to look between you. The image of your bodyguard still dressed in his uniform, but with his thick cock hanging out, was a sight to behold. You moaned, hips bucking involuntarily, the heat of your cunt coming within centimetres of the head of his cock.
Price moaned loudly, immediately dropping his hand to fist the base of himself while positioning his hips against yours. He ran the leaking tip, ruddy and flushed red from his arousal, through your soaked folds. At the same time, you both moaned.
"Oh my god," you breathed, still looking down. Price, eyes on your cunt, continued to smear pre along your slit, running his cockhead up and down, revelling in the way your arousal leaked around him.
"S'alright, pretty girl..." He uttered, not looking up from where he circled his tip around your hole. "S'alright... I'll make you feel good. I'll make you feel good." Then, he finally looked up, eyes boring into yours. You felt your stomach flip as he smiled warmly. "That's what you need, isn't it, sweetheart?"
His words dripped mirth. You whined, knowing where he was going with this.
"Just so desperate for some cock, s'that it? S'that what's got you all riled up?" John poked fun at you, referencing your argument beforehand.
You gave in and nodded, shifting your hips and catching the tip of his cock against your entrance. It made both you and Price release sounds of pleasure, but he held strong, gripping himself at the base and pulling his cock away an inch.
"Use your words," he instructed, voice husky, ash-laced. "Use your fucking words, love. Tell me how desperate you are for my cock. How much of a fucking whore you are for it."
The unexpected degradation punched a moan from your lungs. You babbled, "Y-yeah, fuck– need your cock so bad, John, please."
"Yeah?" Price teased, running the head of his cock up and down your folds again. "You need this cock?"
He pushed the head of his cock into your hole, and you moaned, arching your back. But he stopped there, the flared tip of him laying dormant inside. Your cunt fluttered around him, arousal leaking down the curve of your arse. You whimpered, attempting to push your lips down onto him, but a firm swat to your thigh had you pausing in place.
"S'this the cock you need?" Price asked, voice dark. "Or 're you wanting t'get fucked by some stranger? Want one of the lads down at the pub to fuck this tight cunt? Eh, sweetheart? That's right, isn't it? Actin' like a fuckin' slut lookin' for a quick fuck–"
"No, no, no, please–" You said quickly, trying not to get distracted by the way Price's accent was strengthening as your cunt fluttered around his cockhead. "S'only you! Need you, John, please. Only need you 'n– fuck, only need your cock."
Price growled, pleased, having itched that jealous spot inside him. That's right, that's what he wanted to hear.
His good girl.
"That's fuckin' right, baby. Good girl–" John pulled out and then pushed back in, slowly parting your walls for the girth of his cock. You moaned and he leaned forward to kiss you, being as gentle as he could while splitting you open. He murmured against your lips, "That's a good girl. Yeah, that's it, sweetheart. Doin' so well..."
The buckle of his belt clinked as John picked up his thrusts, stretching you apart on his cock. You could feel the bunched fabric of his trousers and briefs against you with each of his thrusts, and when he curled over you to kiss you, the feeling of his dress shirt and tac vest against your bare chest had a shiver rippling through you.
He kissed you hard, just as he had done in the hallway. This time, a bit of saliva did escape your mouth, rolling from the corner as you parted your mouth to moan, Price's tongue licking over your lower lip as the head of his cock punched up against the base of your cervix.
Just like everything else about him, the sex was hot. Price radiated warmth. The space between your bodies was heating up, and you could feel the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. Beneath his beard, Price's cheeks began to burn read, a bead of sweat trickling from his hairline. His hips moved quickly, but with precision, shunting you deeper and deeper into the mattress, making it squeak and groan.
His cock hit all the right places, too. Your walls hugged him, tight and hot and wet as he plunged up against your womb. John could feel you squeezing him. Feel the sheer hold you had on him, physically and otherwise. He grunted and groaned to himself, his balls already beginning to tighten, his lower back starting to strain from the effort.
"John..." You whined, second orgasm already fast approaching. You felt yourself beginning to tighten up again, your muscles pulling taut as the band of pleasure in the base of your abdomen began to expand. The drive of Price's cock was pulling it further and further. You were so close.
And when you were this close, John always seemed to know what to say and do to push you off the precipice.
Expertly, your bodyguard moved his arm downwards to press a couple of fingers to your puffy clit, rolling it beneath with a gentle stroke. He drew gentle circles that made you spasm beneath him, a panting moan filtering from your parted, spit-covered lips.
He continued the drive of his hips, cock hitting the best spot inside you. Bursts of light, of pleasure, appeared behind your fluttering eyelids, the intensity of it all making it hard for you to keep your eyes open. But you did– you forced your eyes open, lids drooping. You locked eyes with Price, and he smiled down at you in a way that was probably meant to be comforting, but it only turned you on more.
"My sweet girl, just look at you," Price cooed, still slamming into you. "So gorgeous. Such a pretty girl, an' you look even prettier getting stuffed with my cock, don't you?"
You nodded, delirious now. You wanted nothing more than for him to come inside you and–
The thought made you moan loudly.
He chuckled. "S'that right?"
"John, fuck–" you moaned out. "Fuck, please–"
Come inside me, you wanted to beg him, but the tip of his cock at the plug of your womb and his fingers on your clit had your vision whiting out as the band in your stomach snapped again.
You came hard. Legs locked around his waist, the fat of your thighs and stomach rippling with his strong movements, you came. Arousal gushed out around his cock, the sensation forcing an unexpected whimper from you. The slick walls of your cunt clutched the girth of him, squeezing with each fluttering pulse of your erratic heartbeat. Fuzzy pleasure washed over you and, just like with his mouth, he stroked your clit through your orgasm and stopped right at the brink of overstimulation.
But you gained no mercy after coming.
John redoubled his efforts. With two strong arms either side of you, he rutted into you with renewed energy, now chasing his own high. His balls, almost painful at this point, smacked against the plush curve of your arse, with the head of his cock leaking inside you.
Oh fuck, he wasn't wearing a condom.
He knew you were on contraceptives. Of course. He knew almost everything about you now. But the thought–
"John–!" You all but sobbed, wriggling beneath him, becoming impatient. Not because you wanted it to end, but because you wanted him to end inside you. "John, please come inside me."
"Fucking hell," he grit out between clenched teeth, teetering on the edge of collapse.
Stuffing you full of him. Coming right up against your cervix, flooding your womb. Filling you out, watching you grow fat with his kid. Laying claim to you, how you were truly his. His pretty girl. His good girl.
Not today.
But the thought alone had Price coming.
"F-fuck, take it, sweetheart, jus'– fuckin good girl, take my cum, baby–" Price muttered, pumping his hips as he came. He filled you with the same kind of warmth he radiated. Comfort and security, maybe.
You moaned quietly once Price'd emptied himself inside of you, and you relaxed your legs so he could flop to the side. Cock still inside you, softening just a bit, Price curled you into him, his face resting in the crook of your neck, your legs entangled.
The two of you caught your breaths, breathing in each other's scent and the pungency of sex. Your eyes opened and closed lazily, the heat of Price's body lulling you to sleep. But you forced your eyes open when Price pulled back– only to change positions. His suit rustled as he pulled you in against him, and you wished you could run your fingers through the hair on his toned chest.
After a little while, you felt Price kiss the top of your head.
"Feeling alright, love?" He asked, and the sincerity in his voice had butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Yeah," you replied. "More than alright. I... thank you."
"Thank you," Price said, nuzzling into the top of your head.
•º•º•
The two of you basked in each others company for what seemed like hours before a buzzing broke the haze of whatever dream you were living. Peeling yourself away from Price for a moment, you reached over to your discarded purse and fished your phone out, finding it alight with missed calls and messages from your friends.
You almost felt guiltly.
"Cancel," John grumbled below you, seemingly already knowing what you were looking at. "You're not going out tonight, are you?"
"No, 'm not feeling up to it," you said, smiling.
John, burying himself into the crook of your neck once more, arms wrapped securely around you, smiled too.
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
this was the first long-ish fic i've written in a while so forgive me if it wasn't my usual best lolol. anyway thank you for reading and make sure to go check out the other @glitterypirateduck submissions for this writing challenge
lots of luv <3
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steddiealltheway · 7 months
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During season 3, there’s a deleted scene (because I said so) of Max and El’s first spin-the-bottle spy attempt.
The bottle slows to a stop right on Steve's name, and the two girls giggle as El puts the blindfold on.
She finds him in his Scoops Ahoy outfits, and El giggles harder as she tells Max, "He's kissing some girl."
Max gasps, "Who is it?"
El starts walking closer, trying to see who it is, but their hair is covering their face. "Some girl with curly hair."
"Nancy?" Max whispers conspiratorily.
El shakes her head. "Her hair is short. This girl's hair is longer." She starts to turn red, feeling like she's been intruding for too long. She starts to reach up for her blindfold when the person pulls back and says, “Ahoy, Captain.”
Just as Steve groans in irritation, El yanks the blindfold off and freezes. Max shakes her and asks, “What? What happened?”
El pauses, thinking back to the time Mike had to explain why he was so angry when Troy called Will a fairy. She didn’t understand why people were upset about a boy loving another boy, but she understood that it wasn’t something people talked about. Just like she wasn’t allowed to use her powers, Will wasn’t allowed to openly like boys.
So, she just lets out a deep breath and reasons with herself that it isn’t a lie when she says, “They started using tongue.”
While Max shrieks with laughter, El smiles at her, trying not to think of the boy Steve was with.
-:-:-:-:-:-
(An added extra part that is WAY longer than intended. Oops. Coming back after editing to add JSKEHDISBEHSH)
The next year, the information seems to come in handy when Dustin urges El to see if his friend Eddie is still somehow alive in the upside down.
The others are all there, trying to describe what he looks like when Nancy and Jonathan volunteer to run to the school and grab his missing poster for a photo. But the descriptions paint a clear picture in El’s head of someone she’s seen before. Briefly. But she remembers.
Curly hair. Wears lots of rings. Big brown doe eyes and full lips - Steve’s very helpful description.
And El can’t help but turn to Steve and whisper, “Ahoy, Captain?
Steve’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush red. His mouth opens and closes asking, “How-? Why-? When-?”
“Is that him?” El asks firmly.
Steve only nods. Brushing off everyone who asks What does she mean? By telling them to be quiet while El puts on her blindfold.
She finds herself somewhere dark and cold, feeling the familiarity of the place as she seeks out Eddie. She walks around, calling out his name, getting more and more desperate as time goes by.
But she suddenly feels something watching her and quickly turns around, finding Eddie as pale as a ghost staring at her from the ground. She bends down and puts a hand on his face. “We’re coming for you, okay? We’re coming.”
Eddie tilts his head and asks, “Who?”
“Steve,” El automatically says, hoping it’s the right person to name.
The name seems to give Eddie a small bit of hope.
“And Dustin,” El adds. “Dustin’s coming for you.”
Eddie gives her a weak smile and mumbles, “I knew he’d miss me.”
El smiles at the joke. She hears the other people in the room begin to ask if he’s alive, to remind him that someone named Wayne is coming.
El squeezes his cold cheek, hoping some of her warmth will bleed through the connection. “Just hang on a little longer, okay? They say Wayne’s coming too.”
Eddie weakly smiles again and murmurs, “Wayne.” His eyes get heavy, and El shakes him. “Mmm awake,” Eddie slurs. El hears footsteps behind her and turns, not seeing anything, but as she turns back she finds Eddie disappearing.
She reaches out yelling, “No! No! Hold on!”
When he’s completely gone she yanks the blindfold off, weeping as someone pulls her into their chest. She doesn’t hear any of the questions around her as she says, “Run to him. Run!”
But finally, Mike gets through to her and asks, “Did you see Steve there?”
El wipes her eyes and asks, “What?”
“Did you see Steve there?” Mike repeats.
El glances around, noticing that Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Robin are no longer there. “Where-“
“They went to him as soon as you said we’re coming for you. Did you see them there?” Will explains quickly.
El shakes her head. “There were footsteps but… Eddie vanished before I saw anyone.”
Mike looks far off and puts his head in his hands.
They’re too late.
A tense silence passes.
“This is a code green! I repeat this is a code green!” Dustin’s staticky voice rings through the walkie.
The three kids race toward it, Mike grabs it first asking, “He’s okay?”
“He’s alive,” Dustin says, sounding choked up. “He’s alive.”
El sighs in relief and rushes off to the door.
“Where are you going?” Will asks.
“The hospital, come on.”
The trip there is fast, but no one lets them see Eddie yet as he’s still in critical condition. But they all opt to wait as long as they need to get any updates.
El sees Steve eye her for a while before she moves to sit in the chair next to him. She waits for him to talk first.
“So… how did you… know?” Steve asks.
El flushes red and ducks her head. “Max and I were playing this game where we would spin a bottle and-”
“Okay, I know where this is going. Jesus, kid,” Steve mutters.
El glares at him. “We would spin a bottle and see who it landed on to spy on them.”
“Oh,” Steve says, pausing before he suddenly realizes, “You spied on me?”
“Yes,” El replies because friends don’t lie.
Steve flushes red and asks, “So, how much of me and Eddie did you see?”
El leans in to whisper, “You were kissing a lot.”
“Christ,” Steve says, before burying his head in his hands. He slowly looks up at her and asks, “Did you… tell anyone?”
“No.”
Steve sighs and leans back in his chair, staring off.
El can’t help but press on. “Did you love him?”
Steve stops breathing for a second as he considers the question. He turns to her slowly and says, “I did.”
“Did?”
Steve runs a hand over his face. “It’s complicated.”
El pauses and says, “Well, it looked like he really loved you too.” When Steve gives her a look, she adds, “And he looked happy when I said you were coming for him.”
A conflicted look crosses over Steve’s face. “Did he really?”
El nods. “Friends don’t lie.”
Steve smiles and huffs a small laugh. “That’s right.” He hesitates before slinging an arm around El’s shoulder and pulling her into his side as much as he can with the arm of chair being between them. He plants a kiss to her head and whispers, “I’ll give you a lecture later about the spying thing. But for now… thank you.”
El leans into the hug, staying until an older man walks into the room.
“Wayne!” Dustin yells and runs to wrap his arms around him.
El watches as Steve slowly stands up and offers his hand to Wayne when Dustin pulls away. Wayne looks at Steve for a moment before pulling him into a hug.
El wants to ask and know the whole story behind Steve and Eddie and this Wayne person. But she thinks it’s time to look away as Steve breaks down in Wayne’s arms and the older man’s bottom lip quivers. “I know, son. I know.”
-:-:-:-:-:-
They wait for a long time before there’s finally news.
They all collectively hold their breath as the doctor walks into the room. He look over at them all before announcing, “He’s stable.”
A wave of relief floods through the room, but El thinks there’s an added tension when they’re informed that he isn’t allowed visitors yet.
But Wayne follows the doctor out the door and has a very stern word with him before he’s reluctantly allowed to disappear down the hall.
A few minutes later, he comes back to the room and asks, “El?”
El sits up straighter. “Yes?”
“He’s asking for you.”
El glances at all her friends before she stands up and follows (who Dustin had told her is) Eddie’s uncle. As she gets to the room, she looks at all the tubes connected to Eddie’s body, and wonders how he even asked for her.
But as she gets closer to the bed, she sees Eddie’s eyes crack slightly open.
“Lean down so he can whisper to you,” Wayne advises.
El leans closer and hears Eddie says, “I know… how… to get… to Max.”
El leans back and grabs Eddie’s hand. “Show me.”
With that, she’s taken into a vision of horrors, of Eddie dying and coming back. His heart restarted by Vecna for some unknown reason. A vision of all the bodies tied to the tree but Max’s spot is empty. But there’s something there. Something that’s trapped in the empty vines. But just as she sees it, a clock strikes in the distance, and it all begins to disappear.
She gasps as she steps away from Eddie, catching her breath as Wayne asks what the hell is happening.
But she can only run out of the room, heading toward Max’s room knowing where she needs to go to find her and bring her back.
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hannya-writes · 1 year
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Luffy/Zoro calling you their Wife.
I had to write this idea with these two. I enjoy it way too much, hehe. Anyways, let's start!
Luffy
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"Y/n is my wife" Luffy said those 4 words only to get rid of Boa.
The former shichibukai had been pestering him about marriage for the nth time in the last few days.
He was done, he didn't want to hear the word marriage ever again but the empress couldn't get it in her head.
You on the other hand had gone there to talk with your captain about the tiny details he hated to solve.
You have managed everything around the ship since more than a decade ago. If someone needed something they went to you.
And you reported everything to Luffy even when he wasn't paying attention. He trusted you. You were basically his vice Captain, even in battles.
You had once been a captain of your own ship before joining the straw hats. You knew how to do the work, so you just did it.
"What?" Boa looked at Luffy with a mix of horror and pain.
"Luffy!" You were going to admit that was a lie, that there was no way Luffy would ever marry.
But Luffy pleaded with his eyes. Luffy was almost 30 but was able to pull such cute puppy eyes on you that you had to fight the instinct of hitting him in the back of the head.
"Y/n?" Boa asked sadly and Luffy pointed at you, right behind her.
She turned to look at you with disdain and then her furious eyes suddenly showed panic.
Boa knew who you were, well most people knew about you. The Dragon of the West, you had helped Luffy all those years ago to become the pirate King. If the yonkos still existed you would be at that level.
"You promised you would tell anyone!" You sighed getting closer to Luffy passing by the side of a contrite Boa, only to pull Luffy at your level to kiss him.
Luffy didn't back off, he took you by the waist and welcomed the kiss. He pressed you against his body and deepened the kiss.
Your relationship with Luffy was casual, sometimes you had sex, sometimes you cuddled and sometimes you were just friends.
There were feelings involved, of course! But you didn't put on labels, you were pirates for gods sake! You loved freedom!
"Excuse me" Boa said in a tiny embarrassed voice and left in a hurry.
You pushed back to break the kiss but Luffy didn't back away, staying way too close to you.
"Come on" Luffy said before carrying you in his arms in bridal style "you got marriage duties in my room"
"Put me down Luffy I just came to bring you a report" you told him looking away from him.
"Forget about it, we gotta consummate our marriage" he joked and you laughed.
Zoro
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"Oi, that's my wife" Zoro didn't say it to brag, he wasn't angry, it wasn't a menace. It was just a piece of information that Chopper told him to say if men started to bother you too much.
Some of the Mugiwara crew were out on the island you had stopped by. Sanji was hunting ingredients, Nami was looking at clothes and you decided to stay close to Zoro as you both went for Sake.
"I'm flattered, but I'm not interested. '' You told the guy who flirted with you but he didn’t give a shit what you said because he started following you around like a lost dog.
Sanji had asked you if you wanted him to kick the man away, but you, being the sweetheart you were, told him not to bother and so, he sighed and went his own way.
Zoro on the other hand, He didn’t ask. He said those words hoping the dude would stop and walk away.
Your relationship with Zoro was excellent, there was a thing going on between you two but it was a secret. You didn’t wanted Sanji bothering Zoro or Nami asking you about why and how that had happened. You were not embarrassed of being Zoro’s couple. It just was impractical.
And you two were too practical to make things complicated.
Sanji froze in place at the hearing of the Marimo's words, then he whipped his head in your direction for confirmation even when he was at least 100 meters away.
“Wife? a beauty like you is with that… animal?” the man asked and you frowned, they could say whatever they wanted about you but no one messed with your friends and especially not with your lover.
“Well the “animal" as you call it, is the best swordsman in the world" you said stopping to look at the man in annoyance "He unlike you knows that when I said "I'm not interested" I meant fuck off" you told the asshole but he made heart eyes at you.
"You look beautiful even when you are mad" he whispered and you felt a vein pop in your temple. "I'll give you anything you want, just give me a chance sweetheart, I'll buy the most expensive jewels, the best dinner in town… I'll make you forget about him"
"Okey, that's enough" Zoro muttered to himself as he unsheathed one of his swords to point at the man. "You can't buy her, she's mine" that time he was angry, he moved the sword slightly and made a scratch in the man's shoulder
The man shrieked in pain and you looked at Zoro with a smirk.
"fucking Pirate, I'll call the marines, then you…"
"The marines can't help you, you messed with my wife, I'll take care of you…" Zoro was ready to kill.
"She's not even that pretty" the man said afraid "she's just a pirate's whore"
With a big smile you stopped Zoro by putting a hand in his chest, his eye met yours and he put the sword down, giving the man the perfect moment to escape.
Only for you to throw him a needle to the neck, making him fall in his face, paralyzed.
He tsked at you and sheathed his sword.
"Fucking scumb" he muttered, still angry.
"It's ok, I don't care" You answered and he looked down at your lips. Your hand was still over his chest.
"I do, no one talk like that to..." He doubted, he didn't know how to label you
"your wife?" He blushed at your words and looked away
"Yeah" he answered, pulling you closer by the waist.
"Thank you, dear husband but let's not make an scene" you were about to kiss when…
"So you two are together, uh?" Nami said, appearing from nowhere, making both of you freeze on the spot.
Zoro blushed even more and so did you.
"Fuck" Zoro said in a whisper and you cursed too.
Sanji appeared running, cursing Zoro for his words and the fact that you two were together.
You giggled and Sanji attacked Zoro for being such a "lucky bastard" for getting you.
Of course your smile vanished when Nami asked about the wedding and how come she wasn't invited.
You two have made a big mistake.
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hells-wasabii · 3 months
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A/n: this one is a little on the shorter side like its predicesor, but I made up for it with a bit of a Drabble!
Part 1 | Part 2
Character: Alastor
Type: Headcanons + Drabble (Alastor x Doe!reader pt 2, Fluff)
Alastor was... gone. No broadcast, no letter, no cryptic bullshit. Just gone.
As were the demons that kept tabs on you. The overlord undoubtedly thought you didn't know, but you were a doe, and they weren't exactly subtle about it. One even outright told you.
It had been that way for seven years now.
That is, until you had seen and heard a television turned radio broadcast through out the city. You stood in front of the televisions in the store window, eyes wide and jaw practically on the ground. Like a deer in headlights. The radio demon was back.
Just as suddenly as he had disappeared all those years ago he was back. That... That bastard! Who did he think he was?!
Your ears flatten as an angry snort escapes you. And you knew exactly where he was, too.
The hotel wasn't too hard to find, you could pick Alastor's magic out of a croud. The place reeked of it, you thought as you scrunched up your nose. Before you knew it you had pushed open the doors of the establishment, finding yourself face to face with a blonde demon you assumed to be the princess of hell
"Hi, welcome to the Hazbin Ho-Oh." You pushed past the far too cheery woman making a note to apologize to her later, and marched right up to that damned deer. As if he could sense the danger he was in, Alastor finally turned to look at you. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw you.
"Hello, my dear!" As smooth as ever, he swept in to take you in his grasp, spinning you around in a small dance to slow your momentum. As soon as the two of you stopped Alastor took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, as gentlemanly as ever you supposed. "It's been some time now, hasn't it?"
Your eyes narrowed at your fellow deer demon, while his smile only grew, clearly delighted by your angered state.
"You have some explaining to do, Alastor."
You did forgive him eventually, but that didn't mean you weren't still upset about it. He wouldn't tell you why, either, which certainly didn't help his case, but your forgiveness still came, nonetheless.
Things at the hotel seemed simple enough, and you had to admit you were curious about this whole 'redemption' shtick that Charlie Morningstar was constantly on about. Plus Nifty was even there! She had been one of the contractees that Alastor had assigned to keep tabs on you so long ago. The little psycho. (I love her, she's so chaotic)
When it comes to Alastor's contractees, you only knew of a few, Nifty included, Husk, however, you only knew by name. So imagine your surprise to discover that Alastor employed a disgraced overlord. Unlike Nifty, however, Husk mostly kept away from you, associating you with Alastor's inner circle as it turns out. He seemed pretty apprehensive of you.
Now that the two of you were back in each other's lives, you settled into a routine of sorts. He quite enjoyed accompanying you in your morning routines, whether that meant a stroll or meditations, It meant that he could make up for lost time, and he couldn't think of a better way to spend his mornings.
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So, I saw a post circulating here about the “extinction of birds in 2023“, with this picture attached
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My, what a bold claim! All these poor birdies, “went extinct” in just one year alone? Why would such an outrageous, depressing and catchy claim be spread around? Let’s fact check it.
All the species listed, Bachman’s wabler (Vermivora bachmanii, 1988 or 1980s), Kāmaʻo or large Kauaʻi thrush (Myadestes myadestinus, 1989 or 1987), Bridled white-eye (Zosterops conspicillatus, 1983 and 1983), Kauai ʻakialoa (Akialoa stejnegeri, 1969 or 1960s), Kauaʻi ʻōʻō (Moho braccatus, 1987 and 1987), Kauaʻi nukupuʻu (Hemignathus hanapepe, 1899 and 1899), Maui ʻakepa (Loxops ochraceus, 1988 and 1988), Kākāwahie or Molokaʻi creeper (Paroreomyza flammea, 1963 and 1963), Maui nukupuʻu (Hemignathus affinis, 1896* and 1996 ) and Poʻouli (Melamprosops phaeosoma, 2004 and 2004) are all, indeed, either extinct or possibly extinct, according to IUCN Red List of Threatened Species and U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
What are the dates after the scientific names? Well, those all are *last sightings* per IUCN Red List and USFWS accordingly. So, these birds were not seen for DECADES and in one case FOR MORE THAN A GODDAMN CENTURY. And sure as hell there is NO information about them very suddenly being gone all last year.
What’s the deal then? Where did this claim even come from? Well, likely from this article "21 Species Delisted from the Endangered Species Act due to Extinction" from U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service. It includes all the birds in the picture (with the last date of sight, listed above).
From the article: “The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is delisting 21 species from the Endangered Species Act due to extinction. Based on rigorous reviews of the best available science for each of these species, the Service determined these species are extinct and should be removed from the list of species protected under the ESA. Most of these species were listed under the ESA in the 1970s and 80s and were in very low numbers or likely already extinct at the time of listing.”
They didn’t ALL fucking suddenly drop dead all in the same year – if they did, as some other people have already pointed out, there would be an uproar EVERYWHERE. Ornithologists alone would not let it live down. They were officially delisted from endangered status by U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service that year, there was a proposition to do so back in 2021, too. Some were already declared extinct before by IUCN.
Despite not being seen for so long, they remained on the list of critically endangered for a long while, cause you cannot just immediately declare a species extinct. There’s no RTS unit amount number that goes to 0 once there’s nothing left; people keep checking for them over and over and over again. Sometimes it turns out that a species previously thought to be extinct is actually still out there. Attenborough's long-beaked echidna for example was last sighted SIXTY YEARS ago before being sighted again in 2023. It was thought to be extinct for a while, before 2007, when signs of its activity was spotted again. More often than not though, a species turns out to be actually very extinct, unfortunately – like in this case. I cannot possibly know if the creators of this picture, or people that spread it on social media ever had good intentions behind it for awareness, however even if they did, it turned out to be nothing but very blatant misinformation, with a fearmongering effect. The only thing this achieves is not awareness of habitat destruction or pernicious tourist influence or climate change or what have you – the only thing this achieves is despair and panic. People already so casually fall into complete doomerism, they’re very used to hear bad news. And guess what doomerists do? Typically nothing. It renders people helpless. It’s not gonna make people get up and be ready for action, it, at best, would just make people feel sad and/or angry, or at worst, feed into the current alarming rise of ecofascism. NOTHING good comes out of this. At the very goddamn least, no one needs to lie to promote a goal.
The aim of the USFWS article, on the other hand, IS to make people aware about those animals that are already gone from the face of the planet, no matter how long ago, and that now we have to protect those animals that are critically endangered and still out there – to not have to repeat those tragedies.
Be very critical of what you see on the internet, especially if it’s sited with no sources. Especially-especially if it causes a strong emotional reaction. Lies and misinfo could only hurt the cause, no matter how noble. And please, be aware of your local wildlife status. Check in with it accoding to trusted sources.
[*sic, possibly a typo and it was meant to be 1996, other confirmed date listed there is 1989] Addendum: I could not for sure find the uncredided (who woulda thunken that ppl that don't cite their sources would also not credit the artists) author(s) of the bird illustrations. If someone finds them, please, let me know! Edit: Huge thanks to moosefinch for finding the sources for the artwork! I'll add their contribution below:
"Image sources!
The Kauai ʻakialoa, Kauaʻi ʻōʻō, Maui ʻakepa and Kauaʻi nukupuʻu are from Birds of the World.
The "Maui nukupuʻu" and "Molokaʻi creeper" illustrations are also Birds of the World, but are actually a female Kauaʻi nukupuʻu (the other being the male) and Laysan honeycreeper/Laysan ʻapapane respectively.
The bridled white-eye is by Lauren Helton according to this source.
Bachman's warbler is by Lynn Hawkinson Smith/smithhouse2 according to this Etsy listing.
The Poʻouli is by Christina Czajkowski."
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WHO IS THE HOTTEST JANE AUSTEN MAN ? THE FINAL
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Propaganda...
Captain Wentworth (1995):
Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.
Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.
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I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.
If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.
I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in
F. W.
I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.  
This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner
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Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.
LOOK
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HOW
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HE
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YEARNS
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The yearning the yearning - JLM gives a great look but Captain Wentworth is the king of longing stares. He's trying sooo hard to hate her sooo hard to get over her - 8 years and he thinks he's ready to face her and move on but no he has to notice she's exhausted on the walk, that her nephew is being overwhelming, that she should be dancing and not just playing the piano for everyone else. And even though he's jealous later on when Mr Elliott gives her an "admiring look" in lime he's pleased for her because he knows she deserves to be admired and cherished even if he's angry that he wasn't able to be the one she let admire and cherish her. I just this man - he loves Anne so much and it's so so hot.
Propaganda for Captain Wentworth.
I've always loved Persuasion and so I was voting for him in his polls anyway, but I had never seen the 1995 adaptation. So because of this blog I decided to check it out.
Well. Now I'm obsessed. I came into this tournament fully expecting to vote Firth Darcy to victory. Ciaran Hinds suddenly showed up and sparta kicked him to curb. His every look, every gesture is laden with longing. He's so tender with Anne but then the barely restrained rage in his voice when he speaks to Lady Russell. He's rugged and manly yet tender and considerate.
I BURN, I PINE, I PERISH
If you're wondering why you should vote for Wentworth 95 in the @hotjaneaustenmenpoll, it's because he's got something hot for everyone.
Do you think it's hot when a man dresses up fancy? He looks very dapper in his uniform! Or do you find it more sexy when a man is more casual, a little mussed up, maybe even a little grimy? He does that perfectly too!
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Do you find men hot when they're being tender and restrained? Or do you find men hot when they're losing control a bit, maybe getting a bit passionate with anger or jealousy?
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Do you like a refined man of culture? Or a rugged outdoorsman?
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A warm smile? Or something more broody?
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Someone who's the life of the party, boisterous, laughing, charming? Or the strong silent type, serious, calm, mysterious?
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Hinds's Wentworth does all of these sexy things brilliantly! You cannot lose with him, he's got it all!
II ranked Wentworth as the #1 Austen man in terms of fuckability, and I stand behind that when it comes to Wentworth 95 versus Knightley 09.
Is Wentworth 95 angry sometimes? Yeah. But that's hot, at least coming from Ciaran Hinds' ruggedly handsome face. Have you heard of makeup sex? Tell me Wentworth 95 and Anne don't have the most scorching hot angry makeup sex imaginable 🥵
And yet Wentworth 95 is also super tender! The slow, gentle, worshipful way he kisses Anne at the end?? So beautiful and hot. The longing way he looks at Anne in silence. The way he is so solicitous of Anne's comfort to put her on the carriage with his sister! You can just tell he's gonna take the time to worship his wife in bed.
And let's not forget that he writes the most romantic letter ever written! The depth of passion in this man, my god! 🔥💕🔥
This is not a who is the better man contest, or who is the more faithful to the book, or who would you most want to marry. This is a hotness contest, and Wentworth 95 is so fucking hot.
Mr Darcy (1995):
Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.
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Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!
Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!
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The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!
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Fencing? Hot!
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The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!
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This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!
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Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.
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Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!
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There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.
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This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.
Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.
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THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭
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Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.
“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.
Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).
Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.
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My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:
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My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?
Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.
Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.
The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)
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f1reladymai · 2 months
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Aang getting so, uncharacteristically angry when Appa was taken by the sandbenders wasn’t just because of his love for his sky bison. Of course, that was a big part of it. Appa is more than just a pet to him, he’s his best friend and soulmate, someone who’s been around since Aang was very young and is meant to be a “companion for life”.
But, Aang ran away on a random Tuesday, got caught in a storm and it changed the whole trajectory of his life. He ran away because he was upset his life was changing so rapidly, he suddenly had all this responsibility at 12 years old that he wasn’t ready for but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have gone back. We don’t know what would have happened; he could have needed a few days to cool off, he could have seen the start of the war and stepped up (from what we know of Aang, there’s no way he would have ignored it for his own needs), but that didn’t happen.
He got caught in the ice for 100 years and when he woke up he discovered that not only was everyone he knew and loved were dead, but brutally murdered in an act of power. That everyone from his teachers, friends (children, like him) and animals, were gone. Not only that but his whole culture; traditions, foods, clothing, music… everything important was eradicated and possibly most of the documentation of the culture, too. He’s suddenly handed this new responsibility on top of being the Avatar, trying to uphold this culture (as literally the last airbender alive) and grieve at the same time.
And Aang grieves very privately, in fact, does he even give himself a chance? He discovered the horrible truth and his immediate response it so go have some fun, maybe because he knows if he thinks too hard about it and gives into the pain, he’ll turn into something he’s not, he’ll forget what the monks taught him and he can’t let that happen.
So he tries to channel all his grief and anger into being the Avatar, even if he still has his reservations, and by his side is Appa. The only thing keeping him tethered to his life 100 years ago and his culture. He’s been with him through everything, and will continue to be, like I said “companion for life”.
And then he’s gone, he’s taken, and all of a sudden Aang cannot keep the crushing weight of his loss at bay anymore and he… snaps, he loses control. He gives into the avatar state because not only is everything he knew and loved gone, taken from him for nothing more than political gain, but now his soulmate that represented everything he lost is gone, too and he doesn’t know what happened to him. Is he dead? Is he scared? Is he fed? Who knows.
Aang losing Appa with the final straw and his grief, something he was ignoring and refusing to deal with, was brought to the forefront when he lost Appa, making it impossible to ignore and if it wasn’t for us friends trying to ground him and remind him of who he was, who knows what would have happened.
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ggidolsmuts · 5 months
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Our Love Language is Sex - ITZY Ryujin
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"Woojin sunbae, I think I like you..."
No Ryujin, what are you doing? You told her to tell him how she felt, not tell him how she felt in front of everyone else! You can't see her expression from behind, but the sunbae's lip lifts to one side in disgust.
"What? Ew, no. Sorry Ryujin." His tone was anything but sorry.
"Damn, I'm jealous bro." One of his mates said.
"Yeah? You can have her then, how about it Ryujin?" The way the love of her young life offers her away so easily shatters her heart, and she sniffles and runs. His words as she leaves rings in her ear, stinging her as she leaves.
"Guess not, sorry bro." You hurry to catch up to her, finding her crying in a classroom. Quietly you slide the door open and close it behind you.
"Ryujin... You okay?"
"Obviously, fucking, not!" She turns to face you, her sadness stained with anger. "It's all your fault!"
"My fault?"
"You said to tell him how I felt!"
"Yeah, but not in front of everyone! Find a private spot or something, like here!"
"You should have said that then!" Ryujin shouts back at you, landing a punch on your chest. "How was I supposed to know?"
"I thought you would have some sense! Fuck you're thick sometimes."
"Fine I'm thick, just go and fuck off then!" Your back hits the wall as she pushes you away. Damn it, you were here to comfort her, not get angry at her!
"Ryujin that's not what I meant."
"I don't care! I don't want to see you!"
"Come on Ryujin." You grab her wrist, and she flings her arm to get you off, catching you in the face.
"Oh shit, I'm— I'm telling you to go away!" she shouts. Her blood runs cold looking at your stunned expression. She should have apologized, why didn't she apologize! "I mean I'm—"
"I get it, I'm sorry I came." You turn around and exit the classroom, slamming the door shut.
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You barely speak to Ryujin in school after, and you graduate and move on with your life just like she has. 
Until today.
You knew your company was engaging ITZY as a spokesperson for their products, and you saw their commercials pop up in your office sometimes, but you never expected to see them in your office.
"All in us, we are ITZY! Thanks for having us!" Your coworkers cheer and clap. The members proceed to introduce themselves.
"Hello, I'm Ryujin, nice to meet everyone!" You blink and confirm what, or rather who you are seeing—not just ITZY's Ryujin, but the Ryujin who you went to school with all those years ago. You had heard that she became a trainee, but you never made the connection, that ITZY's Ryujin and your Ryujin were one and the same. Her appearance on the commercials and posters seemed familiar, but you never gave it much thought.
Ryujin scans the crowd, used to the wall of phones staring right back at her. Oddly enough, someone is watching without their phone up—maybe he doesn't know who they are. He's staring right at her, through her, and the face is suddenly familiar.
No way.
Your gaze catches Ryujin's, and her eyes widen in recogniztion, mouth opening slightly, as if to call out. Hurriedly you nod and bow slightly, and Ryujin gives a small nod in return, a puzzled expression briefly on her face before she quickly goes back to being a professional idol and smiling for the cameras.
After sweeping the room with a smile, Ryujin looks back to where he stood just a moment ago, only to find him gone. That was surely him! She scans the crowd of office workers, but everyone else has a phone up. Where did he go? The rest of the schedule goes as normal—a couple of office workers ask her to sign a few personal items, but not him.
"Manager oppa, let me use the washroom real quick."
"Sure, we'll wait in the lobby."
A few hurried steps—where did he go, he can't have gone far!
"Ryujin-ssi, are you looking for something?"
"Yes I—" She interrupts herself, hearing his name behind her.
"Hey, you just missed out on ITZY, can you believe they were here?! Whoa!" Ryujin surprises both you and and your fanboying co-worker. "Oh my god hello!"
"Ah yes, hello!" She greets him nicely before bringing her gaze to you. "Hey."
"Oh, yeah umm, hey. It's been a while."
"Mmhmm."
"Wait, you know him Ryujin-ssi?"
"Yeah, we were classmates, if you could excuse us."
"Oh, of course! Would you mind signing this—" Ryujin grabs his notebook and signs it quickly, and you get a jovial and envious nudge from your co-worker before you are left alone with her.
"How have you been?" Ryujin asks softly.
"Good," you reply succintly. Never has a single word so poorly summarized your life since that moment years ago. Suddenly you had no one to gossip with, no one to share secrets with, no one to veg out with on slow weekend afternoons.
----- 
"If you think about it, clouds are just leaky water balloons." Ryujin mutters as she lays next to you.
"What? That makes no sense." You shoot back.
"Just like you having a crush on that girl, Jisoo? What do you even see in her?"
"Oh, so now we're back on that? She seems nice, and she's cute!"
"Aish, I just don't like her. And since when did you like cute? You hated my aegyo, what if Woojin oppa likes it?"
"Him?" All he wants is to get with you! You couldn't bring yourself to say that. "He likes the sexy style. Guys are all perverts."
"Just like you right? I know you go mad at any girl who shakes her hips hmm? Anyways I'm sure Woojin oppa is different! If I'm sincere he'll feel it!"
"Yeah sure, go try that if you want." Sometimes you're so naive! You didn't add.
"Fine I will, hmph!"
-----
"How about you? Your group's doing well." he asks her. How was it for her, Ryujin thinks to herself... And seeing him for the first time in years, she remembers it sucked.
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"Ryujin, are you okay? Should I let the teacher know you can't do the trainee evaluation tomorrow?"
"Yes Yeji-unnie, it's just a cold, I can do the evaluation tomorrow, I have to," she manages to suppress a sniffle from beneath the covers. She pulls out the phone she hid inside her pillowcase, careful to not let any light leak out into the room. Her thumbs work on muscle memory—she needs to talk to someone. It stops at a familiar name, but it belongs to someone she could no longer talk to. Ryujin's lips quiver—it has been weeks since then, and he hasn't even reached out once! Yet she couldn't bring herself to be the one to reach out. She taps the phone against her forehead and hides a sob with a sniffle.
"Do you want some medicine?"
"No, I'm okay, thank you unnie, good night!"
"If you say so, good night."
Ryujin turns the phone off and slides it back under her pillow.
Just one message from you...
-----
"Yeah, it's all thanks to our fans."
"Nice, congratulations."
"Hmm? What for?"
"I dunno, I see ITZY winning a lot of stuff, I guess? I just never realized it was you, you look pre— I mean, your hair is very different now."
What was that? "O-Oh, yes, idol hairstyles, you know how it is." No of course he doesn't! Ryujin berates herself.
"Right..." There is an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of a manager or bodyguard calling out for her. "You should go, good to see you though."
"Yeah, yeah." Ryujin takes a quick peek around the corner and winces. "Hey, give me your phone!" You hand her your device, and she does a few quick taps.
"Ryujin-ssi?" A burly voice calls out.
"Yes I'm coming! Sorry I couldn't find the washroom!" She hurriedly calls out before returning you your phone. "Thanks, bye!" She disappears from sight around the corner, sounding all apologetic to the voice as they grow more distant.
You look down at your phone, it is a text to an unknown number, but clearly addressed to you.
*That's my number, I'll message you*
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The old you would not have recognized the current you, going to your phone immediately when you hear it buzz, like you were a technology-addicted teenager once more. It had been months since you met Ryujin again, and things have been mending silently and slowly. She would text you, you would text back. You would see her group win one award or another, you would text her, and she would text back, albeit heavily delayed. Without seeing her in person, it is easy to forget what had happened between the two of you, and you are just glad to be messaging your old friend again. That is, until you see the current message buzzing on your phone.
*Hey, are you free for a coffee?*
You are in a cafe a few days later, one of the few still open late at night. You sit down across someone trying to be anonymous, donning a mask, cap, and a hoodie over all that. But you know she's Ryujin.
"Hey, at least take the mask off, do you know how much you stand out, someone who's wearing a mask, sitting in a cafe?"
"I was just waiting for you."
"Sure. What do you want, I'll go order."
"Just the usual—" Ryujin freezes. It has been so long, and yet reflexively she tosses out her order, like they are just doing a study session at a cafe near school instead, all those years ago.
"Sure." She stares at him walking away, and a thought strikes her—is he still the same?
The answer arrives along with her coffee as you sit down across from her, one arm across your chest, the other occupied with drinking coffee, one leg perched and crossed—defensive, guarded, cold.
"What did you want to talk about?"
"I-I just wanted to catch up. It's been so long since we talked."
"And whose fault is that?" A chill goes down her spine, and it wasn't from the ice in her drink—it would not be a jovial reunion. Ryujin tries to keep it light.
"Are you still on about that? Come on, that was so long ago."
"Oh, so at least you haven't forgotten about it, I guess that's good." Each word is a heavy blow on her heart. "So why did you ask me here?"
"I was just wondering how you've been—"
"Now that you've remembered I exist? But never thought to reach out before that hmm? I should send my thanks to JYP for signing that deal."
"What? You could have reached out too!" Ryujin already felt guilty, and now she felt stung too by your barbs.
"Yes, but I didn't, because you asked me not to! You told me to go away." you hiss back. "And now that you want to talk to me again, you just reach out to me like nothing has happened?"
"What was I supposed to do? I was busy with being a trainee! I'm sorry okay? I should have said that then."
"Well you can stay busy being an idol then!" You jerk your head in self-annoyance—you were a little too loud, and people turn to look, making Ryujin tilt her head lower. "Come on, let's go." She nods and follows you out the door.
"I'm really sorry, I should have said that right after I hit you. I was just happy to see you again, I didn't think about how you felt."
"I'm... not unhappy to see you again, but I don't know if I can handle meeting you like nothing has happened."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing, just give me time, it's one thing to text someone on the phone, it's another to see them again."
"How much time do you need?"
"Hopefully less than a few years—" you catch your own snide remark as you hear Ryujin sniffle, and it wasn't that cold out. "Sorry, that was low, I don't know."
"At least you said it right away," Ryujin bitterly jokes to herself. You shrug and pat her on her shoulder in goodbye.
"Good luck on your comeback."
After a long while Ryujin takes a sip of her bitter coffee, except now it is salty. How did it all go so wrong, how was she so completely off?
Ryujin drowns herself in her work, proving his words right as she stays busy being an idol. Every so often her members catch a small smile before the sides of her lips flatten out—she still exchanged messages with him, but they were more iced Americano than hot chocolate. Many times she debated just sending a message, asking him if they could meet, but fearful of rejection, she could never bring herself to.
"What's up?" Yeji asks, sitting down next to her. "You keep smiling and then frowning at your phone."
"You know that guy I met at that event? The one I said I knew from school?"
"Yeah, at that company thing? You said you were close friends."
"We were, but I did something back then, and now we're not close anymore." She spills her history with him to Yeji.
"That's it? I mean, if he's still holding a grudge then fuck him."
"Yeah but, he's not wrong. We were close, I hit him, and I never even said sorry until now."
"You did say sorry this time right?"
"Yes, he said he needed time."
"Just give him time then, he has his life, if he wants you back in his life, then he'll let you know. Or if you want him back in yours, just reach out and ask, you don't know if you don't ask. But it's not like he has been a part of yours for years now right?"
"I guess."
"Exactly, at least you're texting with him now, he hasn't ghosted you, that should count for something!"
"No you're right, you're right, thanks unnie." Ryujin steels herself as Yeji leaves her room. She can do this, it's just one text, she's not asking him out on a date, she just wants to catch up! Maybe she can ask him out for drinks, maybe with other people around so that it won't get awkward, she can do that! But... maybe next week! First she has to look up when the next company hweshik is, yes, the message can wait.
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"Hey, say hi, this is my old friend, I've known him since forever!" Ryujin introduces you to her group, pushing you down between two of her members before sitting down opposite you. Introductions go around, and you recognize the two members next to you as Yeji and Chaeryeong. Food and drinks arrive, although it seems like Ryujin is the only one drinking, and the atmosphere remains awkward—when Ryujin asked to catch up over drinks you assumed it would be a quiet thing, and certainly not in a group setting.
"Yah, don't try to be an idol around him and just take little sips, he's seen me do stupid stuff before, just drink!" Yeji and Chaeryeong start off slow, but soon they begin to take swigs, and you begin to do the same, and as the alcohol begins to flow, so does the conversation.
"So what was Ryujin like in school? Did she study at all, I bet she didn't!" Chaeryeong jokes.
"No no, she did study, she studied my homework." You joke, to raucous laughter from the ITZY members and staff.
"No I didn't, I even did better than you on exams!" But of course, no one listens to her. She is mollified after some placating from her members and more food on her plate, and the conversation flows on until the inevitable question.
"So, who's your favorite member in ITZY?" Chaeryeong asks, giggles bubbling out of her. It sparks a titter around you.
"Yah that's so boring!" "You're just saying that because you won't win!" "You're just saying that because he knows you!" "Says the one who spent 15 minutes choosing an outfit!" "Says the one who spent 30 minutes on make up today!" Ryujin blushes at the last comment—did she really spend 30 minutes on makeup today?
You save her the embarrassment by calming them down.
"I'll be honest, it's very nice to meet all of you, but I don't really know enough about any of you? So I guess all of you are my favorites?"
"Boo, cop out, drink! What if you had to choose? Like, I'll pay for your dinner today if you choose."
"Yeji unnie, don't make him pay for his dinner today! I'll cover you." Ryujin hastily butts in.
"Sure sure, I'll buy a second round of drinks if you choose." Ryujin makes to say something, but ultimately she has no retort and waits with the rest of them.
"I guess... since I know her the best, I'll go with Ryujin?" She pumps her fist, and rewards you with a healthy serving of grilled meat.
"Psh, wow, you gave the default answer. What if Ryujin isn't a choice, or who would be number two?"
"I guess number two would be—" your answer is drowned out by a roar as you see JYP the man himself, get on top of a table and start dancing, complete with plastic table sheet around his waist. The rest of the dinner and drinks flyby, and soon it is time to leave.
"It's nice to meet you all—" you start, but Ryujin cuts you off and throws an arm over your shoulder.
"No no, we're going to go for a round two, we need to catch up!"
"You can't Ryujin! We should go back home."
"No! I want a round two!" She yells, more than a little tipsy.
"You can't be seen in public like this!"
"I'll just drink at his house then!" She jerks a thumb in your direction. Their manager protests against it, and Ryujin yells back, but ultimately Yeji steps in.
"It's fine manager oppa, just let them catch up." After gently pushing the manager away Yeji turns to you. "Just go straight home with her okay? Take a taxi, make sure you two don't drink in public, and remind her to take a taxi back."
"Got it, I'll make sure she stays out of trouble." With that you half-walk and half-lurch with Ryujin into the back of a cab and back to your place. You open the door and Ryujin makes herself at home.
"Wow, living by yourself and everything, you've made it!"
"At least take your shoes off Ryujin!" They thud on your floor.
"Surely you have beer right?"
"Yeah, but all you get is one can."
"Cheapskate!"
"Fine, two cans." You grab four cans and sit down opposite her, and as you do so the alcohol suddenly hits you—you must have had more than you realized.
"Yah, so really, who would you choose from our members? Who's your favorite?" Ryujin asks him.
"What? How are you still on that?"
"Would you really choose me?" She persists, pestering and provoking you for an answer. She scoots herself closer. "Am I your favorite, am I the prettiest?"
"Well you did spend 30 minutes on makeup, so I guess?"
"Really? Awwww!" Ryujin clings on to him tightly.
"God of course you're a clingy drunk!" You try to break out of the embrace, but unfortunately you pause when you see Ryujin close up—she really is pretty tonight. Silently the two of you stare at one another, dual gazes dueling.
"Hey, you ever think... that we should have gotten together?" Ryujin whispers.
"What?"
"We had to deal with so many rumors back then, remember? Everyone thought we were dating."
"Idiots, all of them."
"You never considered it? I have..." She's an inch from you, maybe not even that. "I would have—" Ryujin crumples in your arms and passes out.
-----
"Argh, the girls are all saying I'm going out with you!"
"So?"
"Well we're not!"
"Exactly, so who cares?" You shrug and return to your video game.
"Me!"
"Why? Do you want us to go out so that it's true?" You are blind to Ryujin's blush, just as you get flashbanged in game.
"No that's not the point! It's about my image!"
"Sure sure, I don't have an image so I don't care. Let me know if you want us to go out."
"How can you joke about something like that!" She leaves in a huff, slamming the door behind her.
"Tch, I didn't say no did I?" You mutter under your breath.
----- 
Ryujin blinks and rubs the sleep from her eyes. She tries to get up, only to be suddenly aware of a firm arm around her.
"Mmm, just a little longer." The warm heat of his chest flows straight into her back. The hot breath on her neck makes her all warm and... tingly.
"Hey..." She whispers. "I need to go."
"No, stay—" you finally process the voice and your eyes snap open, to the back of someone's head, someone you knew far too well. "Ryujin? Dah!" You hurriedly let her go as she pushes herself away. "What happened last night?"
"I don't remember." She sits up and runs a hand through her hair. "Do you?"
"No, we sat down with beers, and then nothing after that."
"Ugh... Did we—" she checks herself, breathing a sigh of relief as she finds herself fully clothed.
"Of course not!"
"Yeah, like you're the one who has the most to lose here!" Ryujin fires back.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"The members will know I stayed the night, what do you think they'll think?"
"Just tell them the truth, we did nothing and you spooned me!"
"I? Spooned you? No no, the big spoon is the one doing the spooning, you spooned me."
"No, that's called a normal sleeping position, I wouldn't be spooning you if you didn't back yourself into me, little spoon."
"I'm not little— Whatever, I don't have time to argue, I have to go."
"Fine. Why did you even want to meet up?"
"What?" Ryujin asks, distracted and putting on her sneakers.
"You wanted to catch up, I came, except it was your hweshik? Like why?"
"I-I thought it would be a more casual setting, that's all."
"I mean, you're not wrong, but we ended up too drunk to talk after."
"Okay I'm sorry, let's meet up some other time, just us okay?"
"I'll hold you to do that." Ryujin waves goodbye, leaving the two of you annoyed and... frustrated, in more ways than one.
It is weeks later when Ryujin reaches out, and you begrudgingly agree to meet up yet again. You are more than slightly annoyed when you see someone sitting next to her.
"Ye... Ji, right?"
"Yes, you remembered!" Ryujin exclaims delightedly. "That saves me on introductions, I'll be right back!"  With that she's already off to order coffee for everyone. You greet Yeji with an awkward smile.
"How are you?"
"I'm good, you? It's good to meet you again, I was afraid Ryujin killed you after she didn't come back that night," Yeji jokes.
"We didn't do anything." You say automatically. "But that's a huge jump to make."
"Well, she came back with a guilty smile, like she enjoyed whatever she did that night. Her hair and makeup was fine, so clearly you didn't make a move on her—"
"I wouldn't make a move—"
"Which is so crazy to me, that her offing you isn't as large a jump to make."
"Ryujin's not—" Yeji's raised eyebrow stops you in your tracks. "I don't think of her that way."
"Really? She'll make you then, when she finally figures out she wants to."
You were about to ask what she meant, when Ryujin returns with the drinks. She puts your usual coffee order in front of you and sits down next to Yeji.
"So unnie, what do you think? Do you like him?"
"What?" You and Yeji nearly spit your drinks out.
"What are you talking about, isn't he your style?" Ryujin turns red and nearly spits her own drink out.
"No! He's my friend! I-I thought you were looking for someone unnie!"
"Keep your voice down!"
"Ryujin what are you doing? I never asked you about Yeji." You nod your head slightly towards Yeji. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that, I just don't know you well at all." She dismisses you with a kind smile, or so you thought, but the smile was for other reasons.
"None taken." God I am looking at two idiots.
"You have to start somewhere don't you?" Suddenly thirsty, Ryujin's drink is almost gone already. "You're not... in a relationship are you?"
"No I'm not, but you can't spring something like this on people."
"He's right you know. You don't just randomly bring people together without them knowing and expecting something to happen."
"Okay so I missed a step, I thought it would be a good idea."
"I'm heading out," you say with finality, finishing the rest of your drink with a shudder—ugh, brain freeze. "Ryujin, if you want to catch up, I'm more than happy to, but I don't know why you're pussyfooting around me about just talking one-on-one. I'm more than happy to get to know Yeji if you would just tell me, or tell her, for that matter, beforehand."
"Sit." Just as firmly as he left them, Yeji sits Ryujin down once they return to the dorms. "So, why did you make up that stuff about me? You're going to use your unnie without telling her?"
"Sorry! I just felt that it would be too awkward with just the two of us."
"I thought you two are old friends."
"We are, but it's different now, we grew up, things change."
"You like him, he is your style."
"What? No that's not what's happening here."
"Please Ryujin, it's been weeks, months even, since you first saw him again, any other guy that didn't show interest you would have moved on, and yet here you are, you spent a night with him—"
"We didn't—"
"Let me finish," Yeji warns in her I'm-the-leader tone. "You spent a night and didn't do anything with him, and yet you are using your dear unnie as an excuse to see him again. It's one thing if the sex is good and you want an excuse to see him again, it's another if you two haven't slept together yet."
"We did sleep together! He spooned me!" Ryujin says defensively.
"You two really are cute little idiots. I don't know what is going on between the two of you, but here, I will book a nice hotel suite with two nice king-sized beds. You two can go there and have a nice conversation, make things not awkward, and if you're really just friends with him, you can each spend the night on a nice big comfy bed. If not, feel free to not sleep in one bed together, naked!"
"Yeji unnie!"
"You're being foolish, and so is he."
"What?"
"He cares enough to text you first sometimes, so he's not disinterested. All I'm saying is, you put not a boy and a girl, but a man and a woman, in a hotel room, and things may just turn out fine." Yeji pats Ryujin on the head. "Just let me prepare everything, and I'll tell you when okay?"
"Yes unnie."
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You should have realized that something was up when Ryujin invited you to a hotel. You gave her the benefit of the doubt when you see Yeji meeting you in front of the hotel ("She insisted I show you to the room, that's all, I'm not staying."). You probably shouldn't have when you realize you were going up to a suite.
"What's going on?" you ask Yeji right outside the door. "Ryujin can afford this?"
"She can, but I paid for this. As the leader I feel partially responsible about what she did to you last time, so I set up the two of you to have a night in, just like old times. Movies, snacks, games, you name it!"
"I wasn't planning on staying a night here, I thought it would be at a restaurant or something."
"It's okay, I just thought a room would be quieter than a restaurant, you don't have to stay the night if you don't want to."
"I see, thanks, I guess. Where's Ryujin?" 
"She's in there already, go ahead." Yeji gives you a pat on your back as she leaves, and you wait for the ding of the elevator before knocking.
"Hey."
"Hey, thanks for coming."
"Sure. Whoa, Yeji really did prepare everything." That she did, a huge spread of snacks, food, and a counter of various coffees, soft drinks, and alcohol—looks like you wouldn't need to order room service. "So, what should we do first?"
"I don't know, game? What did we do back then?" Ryujin asks, fumbling with her bag of chips.
"Watch a movie? Or TV?" That sounded good, so you scooped up some snacks and joined Ryujin on the sofa in the "living room" of the suite. You see two Ryujins in the room.
"Whoa, what's that?" You ask, nodding to the TV.
"Oh, it's nothing, was just monitoring a recent performance."
"Monitoring?"
"Like, watching yourself, checking for mistakes, stuff like that."
"That sounds... a little narcisstic no? Watching your own performances?"
"It's just something we do." Ryujin tries to close the video, but you stop her.
"Can we watch? I've never seen you perform before actually." She hesitates for a moment but presses play. Ryujin sits down next to you, slightly tense—how would you react? To her bemused delight, the questions incoming are very naive.
"You are showing a lot of skin." "Uhh yeah, that's kinda in the job description."
"And... isn't it a little too tight?" "Again, also in the job description."
"When was this performance again?" "Like a week ago?" "How come your hair looks so different now?" "I go to the salon, you do know that there's more to hairstyles than cutting right?" She reaches for his hair before he reacts.
"You haven't done anything to your hair have you, even the hairstyle is the same. Touch my hair." Her heart skips a beat when his fingers brush her hair.
"Whoa, why does it feel like that?"
"There's a lot you can do to it, most are not great for the hair, but hey, we need to show different styles, and hair is the easiest way to do it." He runs his digits through her hair, and Ryujin shudders at the sensation—it was weirdly hot.
"Sorry, does it hurt?"
"N-No, but you should stop."
"Right, sorry."
"No problem, any more questions, or can we watch something that's not me?"
"Sure sure, just... wow that's a very different line work."
"Yeah. What do you want to watch?"
"Wait, sorry one last question." You lean in and squint at the video, and then glance at Ryujin. "How long does it take for you to look like that on stage? Just the makeup."
"About umm, 40 minutes, an hour. maybe more?"
"Really? And how much time did you spend today?"
"Like 20 minutes?"
"And last time was 30 minutes?"
"You don't have to remind me about that."
"Yes yes, but you probably don't need to spend that much time on makeup. You should tell your stylists that." It takes a moment for Ryujin to process the compliment, and she blushes a deep red, overpowering what makeup she had on.
"T-Thanks, I'll let them know."
"I um, yeah, no problem, just saying." You stutter a little, realizing how weird that sounded coming from you. "Should we watch a movie, or drama?"
"Umm yeah, how about a movie?" Ryujin starts one, but neither of you really notice what's on screen. Instead, the two of you talk and talk and talk—your interest in her work prompts her own curiosity, and she asks about your job, about your life. You swap stories, and although you feel like Ryujin's getting the short end of the stick—your stories pale in comparison to the entertainment industry's wild rumors, she is equally enthused all the same—more importantly you're finally catching up with her. Inevitably the times you're talking about go backwards in time.
"Remeber when—"
"Yeah, or when he—"
"Who was our maths teacher again, Miss—"
"Did you know that he had a crush on you?" "No way! Really? That explains a lot." "What happened?" "He always wanted to be in my group, even though I don't do anything for projects. He was very nice, but he didn't ask me out in the end."
"Wait, he did all that? When was this? How come I don't remember this? What if he did ask you?" Ryujin taps her chin thoughtfully at his question.
"Would I have said yes? I dunno, we got along but we never clicked."
"Huh, but seriously when was this, I don't remember this at all." She watches him frowning, looking up at the ceiling and trying to remember, and she realizes why he couldn't, and wouldn't, be able to remember.
"Oh, it's because I never told you, because we, you know."
"Oh. Right." And there it is, finally the topic broached.
"I'm really sorry that I hit you, I should have said sorry back then, and it cost us both a lot. I still regret it even now."
"I don't blame you Ryujin, I should have reached out again, but I was childish. I did exactly what you told me to, even though that isn't what either of us actually wanted." He puts a hand on her shoulder, an olive branch. "We should move on from that, okay? No more doing stupid stuff like inviting me to a blind date without either party knowing."
"Okay, sorry, sorry. Now never bring that up again, please."
"Yes, let's just watch the movie. Make sure you turn off your phone so that you won't arrange another one for me." Ryujin throws a cushion at you, but you grab it and hand it back to her, and she hugs it against her chest as the two of you settle into the couch. You two end up closer and closer together, until you're shoulder-to-shoulder with her, her head lightly resting on yours, just like the old days.
But the movie the two of you are watching are definitely not age-appropriate for the old days, as the male and female leads struggle against one another, locked in a fevered and contentious argumentative embrace, until they give into each other. He pins her against the wall, she pulls her top off and wraps her arms around his neck.
"Ahh, mmm!" He presses himself into her, his hands tight around her waist. Her hips wriggle, bucking against him as he slips his hand under her shorts. A short gasp. She pulls off his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest and muscular arms—
Oh yes! The screen reflects off Ryujin's irises, but she's playing her own scene in her head. Of her with someone, with said someone right next to her. She squirms a little, and suddenly notices two things—that she's tense, holding her breath; and that he's tense, and holding his breath; scratch that, make that three things she notices—she's wet, the inside of her thighs sticky with need. She needs to get out before they—
"This movie's boring, we should watch something else," he rasps.
"Y-Yeah, let's watch something else. Hah even when we were young you never liked the R-rated scenes." she jokes, hoping to lighten the palpable tension.
"Then why did you agree with me? The old you would have made sure we kept watching. Let's keep watching then." You jostle her, making sure to keep a cushion over your lap.
"No, let's not, it's weird watching it with a guy."
"Oh, so now I'm a guy? Do you see me as a man? Are you interested in me, hm hm hm?" you play it off as a joke, but you are taken aback at Ryujin's lack of outraged denial.
"Why, are you interested in me?" Ryujin panics, and with the situation getting out of hand, she tries to solve it the only way she knows how—by throwing it back harder. "Now that I'm in a girl group, you're interested in me now aren't you? Did you enjoy my fancams just now?"
"N-No, of course not! And don't sit like a lady now, what happened to manspreading all over the couch like you used to? Are you hiding something?" Ryujin spreads her legs slightly, making herself all the more aware of her own arousal, and praying it doesn't show on her tight pants. Hurriedly she tries to escalate even further, to draw attention away from herself—she grabs his cushion and pulls it away, revealing his bulge. Daringly she grabs him, and his slight hiss just makes her wetter—because of his reaction, and because he is far more prominent than his jeans would suggest.
"What's this? I thought you weren't interested in me, hmm?" He slaps her hand away almost childishly.
"Of course not, that was just the movie being hot, not you! What about you!" He hovers a hand on her flat stomach, threatening to move down. "I wonder how wet you are down there, just from the movie right?"
"Of course! And if you're not interested in me, prove it!" Ryujin tries to escalate once more to "win" the argument. "Hit me!"
"What? You're crazy."
"No, I still feel bad about what I did all those years ago. I know you said you're over it, but I'm not, not until you hit me, so go ahead, hit me!" She grabs his arm, pulling it to her face, trying to make the hand connect.
"Ryujin I'm not going to hit you!"
"Why not, do you like me? I thought you weren't interested."
"No, you're just being stupid, I am not going to hit you. Ryujin!"
"Even if I feel bad? Even if I want you to hit me?"
"Especially if you want it, I won't hit you!" He is hypocritical though, and as Ryujin struggles harder he hits her.
In the face.
On her cheek.
Gently.
It is a warm, soft caress of her cheek, and he's pressed against her lips, kissing her hard. Ryujin's hand relaxes as her heart pounds against her chest. She puts both hands around his neck, pulling him in—god she wants this right now! The kiss spikes in intensity, but she can feel him draw back, slightly unsure. Her lips part, and she licks his slightly, and reassured he tongue-tangoes with her, soft moans coming from both of them. The kiss that started off by catching both of them by surprise quickly burns into something more, into apology, into making up for years of lost time, into pure lust.
Your free hand goes down from her neck to her shoulders, carelessly brushing the bra strap off. You wrap an arm around her back, hugging and holding her close—for the first time you realize that Ryujin's slim, a side-effect of her job. It made you want to protect her, to make sure no one would ever say no to her and hurt her and—
And to devour her. Your hand goes to her hip, and you freeze when she freezes, the fingertips touching her warm skin underneath her top retreating slightly. You feel her hand grab your wrist, did you go too far? No, she wants you to go further, putting your hand on her midriff and pushing you down, beneath her pants, and then one layer more.
"Fuck..." Ryujin can't help but whine as his fingers brush over her lips, instantly coating them with stickiness. Her body moves on its own, she's grabbing on to his arm, keeping him there, and she's bucking her hips, urging him to just curl his fingers and—
"Mmmm!" You could cum in your jeans right now just hearing Ryujin groan as you push two fingers into her. Your breath is heavy and hot on her lips while you try to hold the kiss, even as Ryujin squirms against you—she's tight and sticky and wet. "It feels so good, make me cum!" You hear her plead—you have never seen her quite like this, but you can't even begin to process that thought as her lips find your neck and suck harshly. You pay her back in kind, just as she desires, with firm pushes of your fingers into her, over and over. She cries out into your neck when your tips graze her just right, and soon her walls convulse and contract, making it even easier for you to rub her weak spot.
"Cum for me Ryujin." She nods into his neck, whining in pleasure as she gets even closer to her peak. He's growling in her ear, making her pussy squelch and leak. She squirts a little against his palm as he tugs on her earlobe, and he's hitting her in the sense that his cheek bumps against hers as she jerks erratically in ecstasy.
"Cum for me if you love me." WHAT? I don't— Her mind blanks out as he rubs g-spot roughly, and she muffles her scream against his neck, the pleasure paralyzing her, interrupting her own disgreement. She remembers being tense against him, as if reaching up to cling to him. Yet when she comes to she's lying on the sofa, his weight pressed on her comfortably.
"Asshole," she whispers a weak retort. "I don't love— ah!" He takes her breath away again, kissing her passionately. "Whatever you say dear," is the look he gives her after the kiss, and it infuriates Ryujin, makes her want to get back at him. Get back at him in a way that she really wants to right now.
"Get off me," Ryujin pouts and mutters, and you acquiesce, slowly pulling your fingers out from her—her stickiness and tightness isn't a feel you would soon forget. Ryujin unbuttons your jeans, pulling it and your boxers to your knees. She presses herself into you, and with a muted moan you respond to her grasping your cock. Her hand runs up and down your length, all the way from base to tip.
"Do I feel good?" she whispers into your ear. Her free hand runs up and down your body, further stimulating you. "You want me to go faster?" The sound that leaves you is almost a whine. "You'll cum for me right? Cum for me if you love me too? Hmm?" Ryujin teases and baits you.
"No I won't," you mutter through heavy breaths, trying and failing to calm yourself down.
"You won't, even if I do this?" She runs a finger over your head, rubbing the underside of it. Where the fuck did she learn to do that! "No? Maybe I should stop?" She runs her palm over your head before pulling away, going back to stroking your shaft. Ryujin's a master baiter.
"No, don't stop!"
Ryujin's glad he says no, as she's not sure she can even stop herself. It's one thing to grab him over clothing, it's a completely different matter to see and touch it in the flesh, feeling his thickness, his length—she's suddenly thinking about it way too much. He grabs her thigh suddenly, squeezing it as he closes in on his own orgasm. His cock throbs in her hand—she can't wait to feel it burst, and then to feel it inside her. But first, she has to win. 
You groan as Ryujin slinks down your body, positioning herself between your legs. No, surely she wouldn't— Keeping her eyes trained on you the whole time and making sure you are watching her, Ryujin opens her mouth and pushes her lips past your tip, and then past your head, and then most of your shaft.
Cum for me if you love me! Of course, Ryujin's words aren't quite that clear, what with having your cock in her mouth, but her garbled sounds are abundantly clear in meaning. You don't have it in you to resist, and so you fall for Ryujin hard.
"Fuck Ryujin..." The low moan of her name, the sudden grab on her head, the jump of his cock in her mouth, and finally his thick salty load hitting the back of her throat and sliding down her gullet, it all serves to turn Ryujin on even more. As he shudders through his orgasm, the hand on her head runs through her hair, squeezes her scalp gently—Ryujin thoughts dull, focusing on all the sensations he's giving her. It's only when he softens, and her mouth no longer fully filled does she realize that he's done, and that she's drooling a little over his shaft. She looks up, only to find him leaning back, drained and wasted, but she wants more, and she swallows the last of his seed before getting back to work.
"Ryujin!" You wince in oversensitivity as Ryujin starts to stroke you again, adding licks of her tongue on your spent shaft. You firm up a little in her hands, and you get a little harder when she stops to remove her top and pants, revealing a set of simple black underwear. You get a lot harder, recovering to full strength with what she says next.
"I-I need more, I want us to do more." She walks away, her black panties sticking tightly to the apex of her thighs. The slight jiggles of her butt hypnotizes you, and you almost trip over your own pants as you try to follow her to the bedroom.
Ryujin laughs as she hears him stumble on the way over. There is a lot less laughing as he walks through the door, naked and stiffly pointing in her direction, before kissing her and pressing her into the soft bed. A brief fumble, and her bra falls away. In minor embarrassment she covers herself, but he pulls her hands away to plant kisses all around her chest and neck.
"No marks," she whispers, and he responds with a gruff note, that he heard her, but he's not happy about it. She rewards him with an unreserved moan as he pinches and rubs her stiff nubs, swirling his tongue around one, and then the other. There is a sheen of moisture over her flat tummy as he drifts down her body—why did she feel so warm? Ryujin burns a little hotter as he squeezes her thighs again, this time to spread them. His nose nudges against her mons, and her scent gets even thicker at the contact, and as he pulls her underwear to the side. "Don't— nngh!" his tongue catches her by surprise, and soon his warm breath is all over her core, licking and flicking and pressing, making her melt into a mess. And yet she needed more, her hips bucking involuntarily.
"No more, no need..." She pushes you away with a foot, kicking away her panties and removing the last piece of clothing she had on. You join her on the bed, and her legs quickly hook you close, lightly trapping you, the two of you are so close together now.
"Ryujin!" You gasp a final question to her as your shaft touches her entrance. There were many lines crossed today, all of which the two of you could probably ignore or be in denial about in the future, but the line you're on now is one that both of you know would be the Rubicon of your relationship, that things will undeniably change afterwards. But you look at Ryujin, and she is more than willing to leap over that line, and to challenge you to take the leap yourself. She grabs your cock, lining you up with her, adjusting herself until your tip catches her—just the tip, just a toe over the line. She wants you to do the rest.
It's happening, shit, he's so— The pressure in Ryujin's abdomen grows exponentially as the distance closes between their hips. Every time she's sure she can't take anymore of him, he gets deeper, his brows twitching with each inch he pushes into her.
"So tight..." Ryujin clenches even harder around him when she hears his muttered moan. She feels so full, so utterly stuffed, she has to arch her back, as if to try to stretch herself more, to make more room for him. He starts moving soon after, and the pleasure begins to slowly build up. But not fast enough!
"Faster!" you hear her moan.
"I don't want to hurt you," you mumble. She's just too tight to push through roughly, but she disproves that by bucking her hips up into you, and a jolt of pleasure goes up your spine. Her hands wrap around your neck once more, and her eyes are bright and eager. And also mischievous.
"Fuck me if you love me." She gives you no choice, and you willingly up the pace, and her tightness makes you thrust harder. Soon you are fucking her hard and fast with body-rattling strokes. Ryujin's moans get louder and wilder, her voice cracking when you hit deep in her. Her walls tremble around you, and your cock throbs in response to her quick contractions—both of you are close. Bewilderingly she stops you briefly, just as both of you are about to fully ascend in bliss.
"Do me from behind, I don't want you to see me."
"What?"
"I don't want you to watch me cum," Ryujin struggles and tries to push herself off the bed, but he grabs her arms, pinning them against the bed.
"But I want to." She weakly tries to fight back, but his forehead presses against hers, and he's all that she can see, all that she can feel as his cock plunges into her even harder and faster. His sweat drips on to her face, his hips fighting her thrashing lower body, all to fuck her even better—Ryujin knows that he's going to watch her lose control, and somehow that spikes her pleasure even more, that she's going to bare everything to him. I'm sure I'll look so ugly but—
"Fuck, oh fuck, oh my god, oh my— GOD!" Ryujin has never looked hotter as she falls apart right in front of you. Her face goes slack, and she throws her head back as she silently combusts around you, her entire body writhing in pleasure. Her pussy seems to grip and tug at you, as if trying to suck you in deeper, to suck your—fuck it's too dangerous! You manage to spread her thighs further and pull out in time, joining Ryujin in climax, splattering her quivering lithe body with thick splotches of cum.
You roll to the side, laying down next to her and breathing heavily. Ryujin's lips are still lightly parted, soft moans joining your pants as the two of you work through the last bits of pleasure going through your heads. It is almost cute how she blinks rapidly after opening her eyes, not seeing you right on top of her. She turns the wrong way first, and blushes like mad as she turns the right way to face you. She mumbles something, but your head is still buzzing and ringing to hear her.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, umm, tissues please." With what felt like a huge effort, you manage to push yourself off the bed to grab some towels instead. The aftermath is surprisingly awkward, as Ryujin asks to use the shower first, and you avert your eyes as she comes out of the bathroom. She quickly puts on a bathrobe, and by the time you get up, she's already out of the bedroom, saying something about getting some water. You take a long shower, trying to figure out what to say when you're face-to-face with Ryujin again—Be with me? This never happened? I like you? I love you? I want you? Let's just be fuckbuddies? You come out just as uncertain as before, except much cleaner, and you make sure you are properly covered before exiting the bathroom.
"Hey," Ryujin calls out, tapping away at her phone.
"Hey."
"There's water on the table."
"Thanks." You gratefully down the glass of water before looking at the state of your bed—ruffled, wrinkled, fluid-stained.
"You should sleep with me." You catch the briefest of smiles before Ryujin turns away from you, still playing on her phone.
"What?"
"Your bed's dirty, we should just share one."
"Are you okay with that?"
"I asked you didn't I?"
"Right, thanks." Cautiously you slip into bed next to her, and making sure you kept a healthy distance from her, you faced away from Ryujin and tried your best to sleep.
"Good night Ryujin."
"Good night."
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Ryujin wakes up the next morning, only to find him spooning her yet again. She gently tries to lift his arm again, and this time he hugs her even tighter. After last night, rather than be surprised and push herself out of his arms, Ryujin has some morning wetness as she feels something she didn't last time. She knows they'll have to talk about what happened after he wakes up, but she'd rather delay that conversation for as long as possible.
You wake up to a warm sensation between your legs, and it isn't unfamiliar. You look under the covers, only to see Ryujin bobbing her head, bringing your morning wood to full hardness.
"Ryujin? We should—"
"Later." She crawls up your body. "You were spooning me again, I couldn't ignore it."
"No way, you spooned me."
"No, we were facing away from each other."
"Fine, we were, mmm! Spooning each other." Ryujin is shockingly wet, and you quickly groan and compromise with her as she rubs herself over your shaft.
"Deal." She seals it with a vacuum seal over your cock, sinking herself to the hilt in one motion. She flutters around you, and Ryujin buries her head in your neck and let's out a low moan.
"Did you just—?"
"No, just umm, feels good." She throws off the covers, and soon with two hands on your chest Ryujin's riding you, her fit body on full display. Her petite breasts jiggle slightly as she bounces and grinds on you slowly and randomly, indulging herself in a morning fuck. This time she doesn't hide anything, and she's moaning unreservedly, letting you know just how good she feels.
"So deep!" "Fuck right there!" "You're going to make me cum!"
You know she's close when her chin begins to dip into her chest, spending all of her strength on riding you faster, hips bucking back and forth quickly, her slick beginning to leak all over you. You also know that based on how she grips you, there's no way you can hold off your own peak, and you'll go right with her if she does.
"Ryujin, you should get off..."
"No, fuck I'm so close."
"Ryujin!"
She grabs your hands and puts them around her waist—her intent clear.
"Cum in me if you love me." It is reckless, dangerous, stupid even, but Ryujin didn't care. She just put him in checkmate—there was no hiding how either of them felt. Sure he could bluff and lift her easily off him, or he could just jam her on top of him, pump himself up into her and fucking breed her little—
"Fuckkkk!" Ryujin wails at her sinful intrusive thoughts, and she cums immediately. A fresh rush of slick covers your cock, and with Ryujin's velvet grip around you, you give in to your urges and pull her down, making sure you're driving deep into her just before you explode. Lights flash behind your eyes, a mess of hair and lips and teeth in your face as Ryujin tries to kiss you, muffling her outright scream while the two of you finish each other off. Your connection is warmer than ever—from Ryujin's juices all over your crotch, from your cum filling her womb to the brim.
Ryujin's entire body is warm as she comes back down from her high, and he's tightly hugging her. She can hear his heartbeat (or is that her own?) against her chest, and when she flexes her muscles, a heartbeat skips—she could still feel him inside her, and she's almost abnormally warm and wet down there. She winces slightly when his lips find her neck—he's leaving a mark, his mark.
"N-No marks," she protests weakly, but she doesn't really mind, her mind filled with endorphins of happiness, if anyone could see Ryujin they would see her absolutely glowing right now.
"Mm," a mumbled apology, and you're looking at Ryujin as you leave only one hickey on her neck. "You're really pretty, you don't need makeup."
"Thanks, that's random."
"Right, I umm, don't know what to say."
"Then don't." Tiredly Ryujin rests on top of you, and truthfully neither of you minded if you went back to sleep right then. But the real world calls, and Yeji is insistent, calling multiple times even after Ryujin fumbles and rejects the earlier calls.
"Yah, the hotel said you haven't checked out yet? They need to clean it!"
"Just a little longer unnie."
"Yeah, just a little more," you add on.
"Oh, so you two used one bed, hmm, that's nice."
"No, we used both beds, and shut up." Ryujin blushes and fires back immediately to cut off Yeji's cackling.
"Not bad, you didn't disappoint me or Ryujin it looks like. But seriously hurry up and check out."
"Okay okay, we will!" Ryujin ends the call before rolling off you. "God she's going to be so annoying, gonna be all like 'I told you so!', ugh."
"Yeah, we should clean up. Could you pass me the tissues?" This time it is Ryujin that helps you clean up, handing you the box of tissues as she cleans herself too. There is no time to shower, so the two of you quickly get dressed before ambashedly leaving. Before you could get to the concierge, Ryujin quickly pulls you into a side hallway.
"Hey, so what happened last night?" What is she talking about, neither of you were drunk! But the careful way she asks that question is less about your memories of last night, and what it means for the two of you for every night going forward.
"I'll take responsibility, if anything happens—" Ryujin quickly shakes her head, fidgeting slightly.
"No not that, I'll be fine, but just, what about us?"
"That's... That's up to you, did anything happen last night?" she's stumped by his question, until she's suddenly in his embrace, and he's whispering in her ear. "You're the idol, did anything happen? Is anything allowed to happen? I'll go with what you want, I don't want you to get hurt."
"Do you... want it to happen?" Is what she asks, but you look down at Ryujin looking up at you, and you understood the question. Do you want us to happen?
"Yes."
"Then it did." You lean down to kiss her, and Ryujin flashes you the brightest smile before gently pushing you away. "Not here, people might see!"
A few days later you wanted to ask Ryujin out, but you realized you didn't know how to. So you text Yeji.
*You two are idiots just ask her like a normal couple would!* is her scathing reply.
*Can I drop by, I want to ask her directly*
*She won't like that, the other members don't know yet*
*OK, can you set me up with her then, I'll meet her at a cafe or something*
*Just come by, I'll give you our address, I can't be bothered to deal with you two little cavity-inducers*
You arrive in front of their dorms, and thankfully Yeji has the sense to make Ryujin answer the door.
"Hello?" Ryujin's eyes almost pop out of her head as she hurriedly closes the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to umm, ask you out, when are you free?"
"You couldn't have texted me?"
"I... guess I could have. But I wanted to see you." A warm fuzzy feeling fills Ryujin's heart, and she makes sure you feel the same way.
"Yeah, I missed you too." You hug her tightly, happy at her admission and confession.
"So you'll go out with me then? Whenever you're free I guess."
"Yeah." Ryujin stays silent for a moment, before her eyes twinkle and her lips curl into a smirk. "I'm free Friday, come pick me up then if you love me."
"Friday it is then."
A/N: Finally back with a story, hope it's alright. I tried playing with switching perspectives a lot more, so hopefully it's not too confusing. Getting back into things, hopefully will be posting more frequently from now on, but might not get back to the one-a-week I used to kinda do. Thanks for reading and happy holidays!
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wosoamazing · 2 months
Text
There is no 'I' in Team
Summary: Based on this request.
Warnings: Panic Attack, Mentions of Abuse Father (reading also asking not to be hit etc)
A/N: I hope you like it.
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The media was relishing your appearance, every reporter had thrown your name out in whatever interview they were doing, you were in stories on the front cover of the news.
“The 14 year old power house” “Some of football's greatest legends have honoured this youngster” “Beckham: That kid is insane, a star”
______
“And she missed, straight over the crossbar. What a rare sight to see,”
“Yes, yes, yes, ohh, missed opportunity again, it went wide”
“Fantastic save by Mary Earps”
"Wide yet again. She has had 40 attempts this game and only 2 on target, both of which Earps has saved,"
Australia lost the world cup to England, you felt like it was your fault, the media decided it was your fault, you were still plastered all over the media, however in a different light this time.
"Has the wonder kid lost her Wonder?" "A gold medal gone, was Y/F/N Y/L/N the right choice?" "Wonder if Beckham still thinks she is a star"
After the game you were incredibly disappointed in yourself and upset, and angry with yourself, you really questioned whether you were the best player of the team, the night you recieved a silver medal at the world cup was not celebrated by you. You were upset and so was the rest of the team, however they all still celebrated, but how could you when you were the reason the heavy disc that hung round their necks was silver and not gold. You were the only one that night who still had tears of sadness falling from your eyes as you went up to collect your medal, you still had sad tears in your eyes as you arrived back to your hotel room. Most of your teammates had left the celebrations to talk to you and comfort you at some point during the night. starting with the obvious ones, Caitlin, then Steph, then Sam, and ending with the not so obvious pick, Kyra, you and Kyra were very close friends it was just that the girls didn't think she would be able to help you in the way you needed. You didn't say a single word to any of them, you just continued to cry, as you remained in your tight coil on the bed.
You didn't talk to anyone about football for months, or even just in general, you tried your best to avoid everyone, you couldn't kick the feeling of knowing you had disappointed them. After training you would just go straight up to your room and lock yourself in, only appearing for dinner. Katie and Caitlin your newly adoptive parents were growing concerned, and were trying to figure out how they could discuss what was going on with you.
______
The opening match for the season hadn't gone that well for you, your shots weren't going in, which made you frustrated and with every off target shot your frustration grew. You couldn't wait for the final whistle to be blown, you just wanted to get off the pitch.
You were near the commentators as the whistle was blown, you could hear their debrief and opinions on the game, the players, more specifically you “As a coach you would be starting to think about changing your go to line up, off days happen, but this, this is different, from being up there with the best of the best, to missing the most basic shots, the shots that should 100% go in. Shots that caused your country to come second.”
You felt your breath hitch at that moment, the reminder you were the reason you came second, the reminder of how you let down your team, your whole country. Suddenly you could feel every single beat of your heart, you could hear blood rushing past your ears, you ran down the tunnel through the locker room and into one of the bathroom stalls, quickly locking the door before sliding down the wall. Curling yourself in a tight ball, hiding yourself away from the world. 
Your Dad’s words racing through your mind “You’re a let down, a failure. A complete waste of space.” You never believed him but maybe he was right, maybe the abusive bastard was actually correct, what if you were wrong, what if you didn’t deserve a new life. What if Katie and Caitlin didn’t actually want you, what if they weren’t actually proud of you, what if they were ashamed of you, what if you were a waste of their time, what if they hated you.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw someone standing near you. How did they get through the locked door? Were you so incredibly hopeless that you couldn't even lock a door? They took a step forward, and you felt your body start shaking slightly, coiling yourself into a tighter ball.
“Please don’t hit me, I’m sorry, I know I'm a waste of space.” you felt a hand on you, however it wasn’t a painful touch, it was a soft comforting hand, but you couldn't risk it, trying to move out of the grip of the persons hand, however soon they had both hands on you, slightly gripping onto you so you couldn’t move away.
“I’m sorry, I’ll do better, I’ll leave, I know you’re ashamed of me”
“Baby girl it's okay, it's just me, I’m safe, I’m not going to hit you, I love you, it’s okay, everything is alright,” They said in a very soft, calm voice as they moved you into their lap. A familiar scent met your nose it was Katie, you slightly relaxed at her presence, but quickly tensed again, what if she thought you were a burden, you felt like you were swaying, your head felt foggy, you felt sick, your body was shaking, your face was wet from your streaming tears.
You felt the hands wrap around you tighten, “I’ve got you, you’re okay, can you take some deep breaths for me? Like we practise.” You took some deep breaths. “Good Job,” you sat there with Katie for a few minutes.
“How about you have a shower and then we can talk. Okay?” you nod, “But just know that Caitlin and I love you so much, and we are very proud of you and we are so happy you came into our lives, and I promise that is not a lie” you stand up with her and give her a big hug before going to shower, you almost hated the way she knew what you were thinking, almost always. While you were showering no one came into the shower, which you thought was weird, until you walked out of the showers and saw everyone standing there huddled around Katie.
Katie noticed you were standing there. “You ready to talk?” you nodded slinkishly, “come here” she sat down and gestured for you to sit down on her lap, you willingly went over, and sat on her lap. Caitlin sat next to the both of you.
“What’s wrong?” Katie asked you “I’m not good enough”
“Why do you think that?” Caitlin queried.
“We lost the final because of me. And now we lost because I couldn't shoot,” you took a deep breath and paused for a moment “Maybe i shouldn't have become a footballer” you sad before a small sob left your body.
“Hey, we came second because of you, we wouldn’t have been in that match if it wasn’t for you. It doesn’t matter what they say, if you weren’t on our team we wouldn’t have been in that match.” Steph told you.
“You know, you are amazing kid, it’s okay to have off days, off weeks and off months, its okay, and it’s not fair for anyone but especially yourself to blame losses on yourself, its a team sport, we win as a team and we lose as a team” Leah told you and you just nodded your head, the whole team reassured you that you were still good and an excellent player even though you were having some off days, you had calmed down but the team stayed where they were for a little longer, to show you that they were there for you.
The team went off to shower eventually, but Katie did not, you just stayed sitting in her lap, soaking up her warm embrace. “What if we invited some of the girls over for a movie night tonight, would you like that? They could even sleep over.” You nodded your head.
That evening you found yourself surrounded by your teams as you watched a movie, they all really cared about you and supported you, so you made yourself a promise that you would start to try and open up to them more.
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