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arminsumi · 6 months

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★ Satoru's undercut

★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.

★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??

★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"This will ruin my life..."

"It will not ruin your life."

"I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die."

"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."

"They're not gonna cut your head off."

Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.

The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.

"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.

"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.

“I'm not!”

You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.

"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.

Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."

Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.

“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.

"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.

Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"

You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.

****

The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.

Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.

"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."

He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.

"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.

"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.

Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."

Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.

You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.

But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.

Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.

So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.

He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.

And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.

So, a good haircut was critical.

****

Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.

Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.

But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.

You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.

She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.

You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.

****

Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.

"What the—"

"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.

He immediately shut up and went red in the face.

"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.

She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.

"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.

You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.

Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.

You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.

Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;

"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.

"I'm not his—"

"She's not my—"

"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.

****

That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.

On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.

"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.

"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.

Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.

"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.

Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.

The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.

When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.

Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.

Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.

****

“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.

“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.

Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.

The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.

You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.

“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.

His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.

****

After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.

It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.

In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.

So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.

Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.

You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.

Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.

“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.

He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.

“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.

“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”

He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”

You looked confused. “Test it out?”

“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

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theladybrownstarot · 2 months

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MONTHLY-READING

2024 APRIL 2024

Pick a card reading ~

❀ Here's my masterlist for more !

❀ Make sure you like/reblog/follow/Comment for more pacs like these !

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

𐙚 Pile 1 .

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's get with your reading :-

☪︎ You people are seem to be very focused in the initial period of april , i can sense that very tough strictness and focus of oneself for their goals and giving best no matter what happens . You are being told to trust your decision, guts and instincts no matter how appealing other's would feel to be . You people will be on high energy and focus throughout the month but very high during the first phase of april .

☪︎ later oh wow oh wow this is a confirmation that whatever you worked hard for will yield results , i sense that you will be highly recognised for your enthusiasm. You will my god very much transformed and will get all that clarity you always wanted for things long time back if any . People are going to be very attracted to you plus i see people helping and appreciating you . You will be in the spotlight . Overall the continued thing will be in a good progress too .

☪︎ The last phase of april will be all about planning and executing the new things and ideas or for before if you couldn't . If you maintained same energy of being focused and disciplined you will get ahead 2 times of the road like that I'm sensing in the reading like maintain yourself and give your best no matter because it will be the test of your commitment and all the lessons you worked hard for .

☪︎ You going to be chilling with your friends by partying and talking plus i see right people coming in your life too . The energy of all people reading this will be balanced just don't overthink a lot.

𐙚❀˖° Monthly Advice : I sense that most of you lost something or lost to something which hurted you and made you heart broken . The advice here is to let your tears flow so the negatives can be out . Try to love yourself by doing what you want so you can come over the past because you haven't completely . Your prayers are heard just be more greatful for what you are and have and control your anger .

❀ prominent zodiacs and houses: Gemini , libra , Aquarius, leo, aries , saggitaurus , virgo, taurus, capricorn, 1st house, 5th house and 3rd house .

𐙚 Pile 2

Namaste pile 2 ! Let's get with your reading :-

☪︎ Your first phase of April will be all about planning and then executing , getting various ideas and projects getting done . Don't be so conscious about all your decisions because you can really thrive in through it just implement and surrender to universe .

☪︎ The second phase of April will bring some changes within yourself that will leave you making more confident about yourself . Your plans will bring very strong stability and foundation for something new . You will quite become famous and i see wealth or money coming in some sort also that you will be quite getting more responsible and serious about your things and life in general , i see a major lesson or realisation hitting in anyway .

☪︎ Third phase of April or the last phase will be all about equal give and take of your assets like knowledge , experience , money or anything with others and helping them also .If anyone wants to start a business or something new then different through something then its a really good time for it . You are protected and loved by universe .

𐙚❀˖° Monthly Advice : Universe says that wake up and stop sleeping , stop getting scared and anxious and make a step . You will be connecting with you highest self a lot .

Be generous and kind .

Give yourself some break .

You are taking something to seriously .

Give that exhausted and tortured mind some break .

Reshuffle your priorities, schedule and routine .

❀ Prominent zodiacs and Houses : Aries , scorpio , 8th house , virgo , taurus , capricorn , gemini , libra , Aquarius , 3rd house and 2nd house .

𐙚 Pile 3.

Namaste pile 3 ! Let's get with your reading :-

☪︎ The first phase of April will be quite confusing for you , you may feel stuck or confused about the way or any thing you feel . Try not to merge or do many things at a time rather do one thing at a time otherwise you may create a complex mess for yourself . You must have dragged something which needed your logic but you didn't which has led to agony and all thigs that i have discussed above for this mess to be clear get your logical side and do not listen to your heart . You will or need to make some final choice regarding something because the more you will drag and delay the more frustrating and tough it will be for you .

☪︎ In the second phase Of April i see you grabbing some opportunities and starting something new ahead , I feel the second phase without much of any fuss or mess and more clear and stable energy . Just go for what you want and inspires you because qualification needs to be a later thing for you . This will be a small new start .

☪︎ The third phase of April or the last phase will be about getting to know something or some big changes that will be revealed to you as a surprise . The shift in perspective will be coming in for you . From here the universe will set you on something big like really something big and you will be starting by seeing the trailer in your life or within yourself , universe will make you realise something deeply . It feels like a big mission or realising your mission.

𐙚❀˖° Monthly Advice : you had be wise to watch and trust no one at this time. keep yourself to yourself and do not buy into any fears or chaos that's being stirred up around you . you know the truth so stay strong. Still someone vunerable needs you and secret is a being shared .

Be honest with yourself .

Look at the people around you something lies in there .

❀ Prominent Zodiacs and Houses : scorpio , pluto ( planet), leo , aries , saggitaurus , pisces , cancer , 11th house and 7th house .

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choisanboobenthusiast · 7 months

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The Ring

Pairing: Sub!Hwa x fem reader

Genre: smut MDNI

Word count: 6k

Summary: Seonghwa comes home after a day of schedules in that YSL shirt. After thinking about him all day you finally get to play with him and he wants nothing more than to let you.

If you want a nice audio to go along with this story @sugarnspice630 posted this one and it just fits sooo perfectly I couldn’t resist adding it.

Warnings: extremely sub Hwa, so much nipple play (duh he’s wearing that shirt), oral/fingering (f receiving), toys, ass play (m receiving, the bulk of this fic is ass play, if that’s not your thing don’t read this), overstimulation, dacryphilia, cum eating, slight choking, name calling, praise, slight degradation, begging. If I missed anything please let me know!

a/n: hiiii, it’s been a while! I’ve been working on this for ages 😭 I just didn’t have motivation to write anything for a long while. However, this shirt on Seonghwa made me go absolutely bonkers like I just wanna play with his nips y’know? I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @shinestarhwaa for requesting subhwa 🫶🏻 Feedback and reblogs are super appreciated :) (and yes I chose The Ring as the title to be funny bc well… you’ll see)

masterlist

You had been hanging around the house all day by yourself, trying to keep yourself busy with random tasks, watching your favorite show, playing videos games, even cleaning. You'd gone as far as getting yourself off three separate times but no matter what you did you couldn't distract yourself from all the dirty thoughts you were having about your boyfriend.

You had woken up early with him when his alarm went off even though you had the day off of work. You always liked waking up with him, even if it was at the ass crack of dawn sometimes. It meant you'd get a few snuggles in with him before he had to leave, which you appreciated since he would often be gone literally all day. Today wasn't any different except you cuddled too long, causing him to be a bit behind on getting ready. He showered faster than you'd ever seen him do. Seonghwa was usually the type to take his time as he took his hygiene and self care routine very seriously. But today he just didn't have the time, he had a photoshoot and various other schedules to get to.

It had all started when he came busting out of the bathroom back into your room, clad in nothing but the small beads of water he had failed to dry off of himself. They sparkled against his tan skin under the dim light of your bedside lamp and his wet hair hung messily around his face. It's not like you hadn't seen Seonghwa naked before, of course you had, plenty of times but there was just something about the way he looked in that moment, naked and wet, that made you instantly want him. You couldn't help this was yours bodies response and Seonghwa couldn't help that he didn't have time to do anything about it. No matter how much you whined about it.

You had eyed him up and down as he walked over to the dresser, definitely not staring at his cock as it hung soft in between his legs and certainly not thinking of making him late by putting it in your mouth. Your lingering gaze didn't go unnoticed by Seonghwa as he chuckled, facing away from you while he grabbed his clothing out of the dresser, his cute little ass on display for you. Your panties suddenly soaked at the mere thought of bending him over the dresser so you could play with him. You weren't sure what had come over you so early in the morning, the sun not even up yet, but you were never one to ignore your desires and Seonghwa was never one to deny them.

"Seonghwaaaa." You whined as you crawled to the end of the bed, grabbing his ass playfully as you stood next to him and began to pepper his shoulder with kisses, your other hand playing across his stomach.

"Yesss." He giggled at your actions.

"You can be late can't you?" The hand you'd placed on his stomach flitted up to his chest, your thumb just barely catching one his nipples as your other hand massaged his ass.

"Ughh." He groaned in frustration, his head tilting back slightly. "This is really important, I can't be late today and I'm already running behind- ah!" You had let your hand wander further south to stroke at his slowing hardening cock. He breathed in deeply before catching your wrist in his hand and removing it, apprehensively, from his appendage. "I'm sorry, baby, I really can't."

You groaned but accepted your defeat, telling him it was alright to which he kissed you sweetly on the forehead and promised to make it up to you later when he got home. And it was that promise that had you on the edge of your seat all day.

Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, you heard the front door unlock. You nearly ran from your spot on the couch to meet him, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw him. He had been styled to all hell, but in the best way possible. He wore a pair of dark slacks, his hair straightened and framing his face perfectly. On top he had a blazer that matched the pants, underneath he appeared to be wearing something very sheer, it piqued your interest.

"Wow." You gawked as you strolled closer to him. "What's all this?"

"Got to keep the outfit today." He beamed.

"It's nice." You fiddled with the front of his jacket, trying to take a peak inside as unobviously as possible but he caught on quickly.

"You wanna see the shirt?" He cocked an eyebrow at you. You only nodded, a devious smirk playing on your lips. He laughed lowly, removing his jacket to reveal a long sleeve blouse, completely sheer and extremely see through. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, gosh he really was so beautiful. "Like it?" As if he even needed to ask, you were practically drooling as you eyed his toned torso throughout the fabric, paying close attention to the way it brushed over his nipples whenever he moved.

"Love it." You answered, placing your hands gingerly on his hips before leaning in to kiss him. "You look sexy, baby."

He didn't bother responding, instead lifting his hands to snake them through your hair as he kissed you back. You groaned into his mouth as you pulled your bodies together, your hands finding their way quickly under his shirt to roam over the soft skin of his back. You stayed like this for a little bit, just kissing, hands roaming, tongues sliding together, breath quickening. His pants did nothing to hide his growing erection, every passing second you could feel him growing harder, pressing into you. You had been waiting all day to touch him, to feel him up against you, to play with him how you knew he liked. Now that you finally had him you were becoming restless more quickly than normal.

Still standing in the entryway, you suggested moving things to your bedroom, he was quick to agree. You could hardly keep your hands off each other as you made your way there, stopping every couple of steps just to kiss and touch.

"Been thinking about you all day, Hwa." You said, your hands chasing after his hips as he backed into your bedroom.

"Oh yeah?" He pulled you flush to him, fingers tickling at your collarbones.

"Mhm." You smirked and dipped your hands down to grab at his belt buckle. "You gonna be a good boy for me?" He nodded as you began to undo his pants, smirking at the effect these simple words had on him. "Yeah?" You unzipped his slacks and pushed your hand into them, feeling his hard cock through his underwear. "Gonna let me play with you until I'm satisfied?"

He groaned at the contact. "God, yes." His normally sweet and innocent eyes had turned lustful in an instant, staring down at you with need.

"So hard already, baby." You continued to palm him through his boxers.

"Been thinking about you all day, too." His fingers dug into the skin of your shoulders as his eyes closed. His mouth fell open slightly as you snaked your hand inside his underpants. You grabbed him gently, stroking his length slowly and running your thumb over his leaking tip. "Can I touch you too? Please."

Without a word you retracted your hand and rid yourself of your top, leaving your chest completely bare for him. "You can touch me up here but not anywhere else yet. Got it?"

"Mhmm." He wasted no time, his hands flying to your tits as soon as you gave him permission. He pinched at your nipples, rolling the hardening buds between his fingers while he kissed down your jaw, relishing in the tiny noises he drew from your lips. "So pretty." He mumbled, his lips making their way to your neck.

He continued to massage your breasts as you returned your hand to it's previous position, allowing the other to explore underneath his top. He loved the way you touched him. Loved how your hands felt as they grazed his stomach and flitted up to caress his chest. He was always so sensitive to your touch, his body jolting at the feeling of your fingers on one of his nipples, a tiny whine escaping him. You let your thumb rub slow circles over the bud as he grabbed your face in both his hands, kissing you hard. You kept your ministrations up as his tongue entered your mouth with ease, tasting you like it was his first time.

Still slowly stroking his cock you pinched and pulled at his nipple, earning yourself a string of whines and groans as his head tilted backward. There was nothing prettier than the sounds he made and you couldn't wait to pull more out of him. "Take you clothes off and get on the bed." You instructed, pulling your hands from him. "But leave this pretty little thing on." You fingered the hem of his shirt.

He followed your instructions immediately, taking his pants and underwear off hurriedly before getting on the bed on his back, propping himself up slightly on the pillows. His cock twitched against his stomach, leaking beads of precum onto his skin and shirt as he waited for you to come touch him. He stared at you hungrily, anticipating your next move, the mystery of what you might do sending excitement through him.

Today you weren't going to make him wait, mostly because you were so worked up already yourself. Usually, you'd tease him until he was begging and squirming, which admittedly didn't take all that long. But today you wanted to please him and then make him get you off afterwards, although you knew it wouldn't take anything to convince him. So before joining him on the bed you sauntered over to the closet, grabbing a box from the top shelf. Inside the box was every toy you and Seonghwa owned, save for some things like restraints and lingerie, neither of which were in your plans for the evening. Typically you'd just pick a toy and surprise him but you were feeling generous and wanted to let him choose.

"What do you want today, Hwa?" You asked, peeling the lid from the box and coming to sit beside him.

He looked at you wide eyed, surprised you were asking. "Whatever you want." He answered.

You set the box on the nightstand and touched his thigh gently. "I want you to choose, baby." You smiled, stroking his skin lightly. "Just pick what you want and set it on the bed." You turned your head away, wanting to be surprised.

You felt the bed shift a little underneath you and then heard him sifting through the box before he whispered out a meek "okay."

When you turned back to face him you were surprised to see three toys laid out next to him as opposed to one, which you were expecting. "Aren't we being a little greedy here?" You teased, taking note of the fact that they were all his and none were yours. "These are all for you, what about me?"

He was apologetic immediately. "I-I can put one back or swap one out-"

"Well, we're definitely not doing that." You nearly laughed, closing up the box and placing it on the floor before putting his chosen toys in it's place on the bedside table. "You chose these three things, we're gonna use all three. I guess you'll just have to work extra hard to get me off yourself then, huh?"

"I'll be good, I promise." He sat up, leaning into you, caressing your sides and kissing your shoulder. "Wanna make you cum." His fingers flitted back up to your chest, toying with your nipples once again as you sighed and turned to kiss him.

Before you knew it you were lying on your back, head pressed into the pillows with Seonghwa in between your legs, knuckle deep in your pussy. He had already made you cum once from just his fingers and was now determined to get you off again with his mouth. He loved how you writhed beneath him when he sucked on your clit and pulled at his hair when he curled his fingers inside you just right. You were a wet, sticky mess beneath him, gasping and moaning as your cunt clenched around him repeatedly.

There were few moments were Seonghwa got dominant but with his face pressed in between your thighs he leaned into it quite a bit more, which you never complained about. He'd edge you and overstimulate you until you switched roles again. You'd get this tone in your voice that let him know it was time to stop or give you what you want. And being the good boy that he was, he'd always listen.

"Fuuck." He groaned out, eyes darting upward to look at you, lips still attached to your leaking core. "Taste s'good." You couldn't find it in you to respond, at least not with words. Instead, gripping his hair tighter while grinding against him. While he played the dom part in this position, it was really you who was in control. He knew it, and loved it, wanting nothing more than to be controlled by you. "Fuck yes, baby, fuck my fingers." He was relentlessly pushing his digits in and out of you, an obscene squelching sound filling the air as he licked and sucked on your clit. He felt your walls clenching down on his fingers, watching your eyes roll back. "Gonna cum?"

"Mmm!" You whined, still unable to form a single coherent thought. The only thing on your mind the feeling of Seonghwa's long tongue dipping into your entrance with his fingers, your clit catching on his nose, your whole body seeming to light on fire at the sensation. Seonghwa loved it when you rode his face, wanted to be covered in your slick by the time you were done. You, of course, would grant his wish every time.

As you ground onto him with a tight hold on his hair he groaned lowly into you, the vibration of his voice sending you over the edge. Your body trembled and shook as you came undone, your legs snapping closed around your lover's head as he worked you through your high. As your body went slack he slowed his movements, massaging your thigh with his free hand and peppering kisses along your skin gently. He removed his fingers slowly, rubbing them through your soaked folds a few more times before you gave his hair a harsh tug. He got the message, retracting from your sensitive core completely and lifting his face to stare at you.

With your bare chest heaving, you looked down at him, and what a sight he was. His face glistened with your wetness, smeared across his nose and cheeks, dripped down his chin and with a wide smile and sparkling eyes he licked you off his lips. He sighed out, resting his cheek on your inner thigh, both his arms still hooked around you as he stroked your skin lovingly.

"I did good for you?" He asked.

"So good." You mused, sitting up a bit, your hand still tangled in his dark locks, you pulled him backward. He didn't resist, allowing you to do what you wanted. "Now it's your turn baby boy."

Seonghwa had grabbed three toys, a vibrating cock ring which you planned to put on him right away, and a butt plug and vibrator which you planned to tease him with until he was crying. You made him lie on his back first, sliding the cock ring onto his shaft and placing it just below the head, the vibrating part on the underside where you knew he liked it. He fisted the sheets while you stroked him lazily, not yet turning on the vibrations. His lips trembled as he watched you rub your palm over the head and pump him slowly, little gasps and groans escaping him.

"Feels good?" You questioned, although you already knew the answer.

"Fuck, feels so good." He answered.

"Ready for more?"

"Please." He nodded eagerly.

"Flip over, hands and knees."

He did as you said, switching positions to get on his hands and knees. He knew what was coming of course and his body shook with anticipation. You trailed your hands over his back, massaging him lightly, squeezing his shoulders and neck gently, raking your fingers through his hair. He still wore the shirt he'd come home in, it hung loosely around his shoulders as the hem brushed across the mattress. You let your hands travel down his sides and over his hips before squeezing his plump ass in both your hands, being sure to massage the flesh there too. As you did so he fell forward slightly, now supporting himself on his elbows as his breath quickened.

You grabbed a bottle of lube, dripping some in between his cheeks before coating your index and middle finger in the substance. You carefully rubbed your fingers over his hole, his breath hitching at the contact. You kept a slow pace, prodding your middle finger into his entrance just slightly before removing it to rub over him again. Simultaneously your free hand wandered over his soft skin, squeezing his cock and pinching his nipples, drawing out little whines from him. Any minute now he would start begging you to fill him and fuck him and let him cum. You sunk your middle finger into him completely and he groaned out into the sheets, his fists clenching at the feeling of you moving in and out of him slowly.

"Please, more." There it was. He lifted his head from the pillow it had been shoved into and peered back at you, his big brown eyes pleading as he whimpered for more. "Please, baby."

"Want another finger?" You asked.

"Yes, please." He nodded.

"Since you're being such a good boy."

You complied with his request, slotting your pointer finger in slowly next to your middle finger. He watched you still, mouth agape as you stretched him out, nearly drooling as you pumped you fingers a little faster. He groaned and closed his eyes, giving himself over to the pleasure and burying his face back in the pillows. Eventually your fingers moved quickly in and out of him, your other hand nonstop toying with his nipples. His body was shaking with every thrust of your fingers, moans and whimpers escaping him as you pinched and pulled at his sensitive buds which were now red from being played with. You purposely avoided touching his leaking cock all that much, wanting him as desperate as possible.

"P-please, fuck me." He whined into the pillow, his hips moving involuntarily with the motions of your hand. "Fuck, pleeease."

"You want your toy now, baby?" You slowed your movements, finally dropping your hand down from his chest to stroke at his cock, red and leaking all over the sheets.

"Yes, y-yes, want you to fuck me." He pleaded, voice shaking, taking on a high pitched tone. "P-please, please, I've been so good. Been a good boy. Wanna cum." He babbled on.

"You have been a good boy." You agreed, carefully removing your fingers from him. "My good boy." You grabbed his vibrator from the nightstand, lubing it up generously. It was certainly larger than your two fingers, but you knew he could take it. You rubbed the toy over his hole, prodding his entrance with the tip of it. "You're such a little slut, Seonghwa," He groaned. "Asking me to fuck you with three different toys. Begging me to fill you up."

"Yes, please, f-fill me, please." He was grinding his hips back onto the toy, desperate for it to enter him.

"You love it when I stretch you out? Fuck your tight little hole until you're crying?" You started to push the toy into him at an extremely slow pace.

"Please please please." He begged. "Please, more. Want m- unghh." He moaned as you turned on the vibrations, pushing it in further.

"I love it when you beg me, baby." You reached for his cock again, this time flicking on the cock ring. His whole body shuddered as you did so, causing the toy to slip in further and the most obscene sounds to fall from his lips. You began to slowly move the toy in and out of him, pushing it deeper with each thrust as you pumped his cock in unison. "Doing such a good job." You praised. "Taking it so well, Hwa. Does it feel good?"

"Yes!" He nearly shouted. "F-fuck, it feels so good. Love when you fuck me."

You continued like this for a little while, fucking him harder and faster but not yet letting the toy sink all the way in. You were honestly surprised he hadn't cum yet with the way he was mewling and gasping for air. At the very least you knew he must be close.

"D-deeper." He whimpered. "Need it deeper."

"Oh yeah? My baby boy wants the whole thing?" He nodded eagerly and whined when you gave him what he wanted. With the entire length of the vibrator sheathed inside him you released his cock from your hold and brought your fingers up to curl harshly into his hair. You pulled his face up from where it was in the pillow, his eyes wide as he looked back at you, face flushed, a bit of drool dribbling down his chin. You were no longer moving the toy in and out of him, instead just letting it sit inside him as it buzzed. Nearly every breath he exhaled was accompanied by a broken whimper, his mouth agape as he stared at you with all the admiration in the world. Without warning him you turned the vibrations up, hitting the button twice to put it at it's highest setting.

"Ah!" His breath hitched violently, the muscles in his back and arms tensing. His tanned skin now glistening with a sheen of sweat. "Please keep f-fucking me. Wanna cum. Let me cum please."

"Seonghwa, you can cum whenever you want, my prince."

"Mm-mm." He shook his head. "Don't wanna cum unless you- unless you're fucking me. Need you to fuck me." His voice trembled as he spoke and the way his fingers dug into the pillow told you he was holding back on purpose.

"Fuck, Seonghwa." You groaned at the sight of him, the throbbing in your pussy growing greater by the second. "Just need to have your ass fucked, huh?" You began to do as he asked, moving the toy in and out of him again, your other hand still gripping his hair. "Can't cum unless I play with your little ass? Fuck, look how good you're taking it." You released his hair, smacking his ass hard. He let out a high pitched strangled moan.

"Harder, please." He whined and you complied. Though you weren't sure if he meant fuck him harder or smack his ass harder, you opted to just do both. Going as fast and hard as your tired wrist would allow you to with the toy you slapped his cheeks a few more times, red marks beginning to form immediately. He was shaking now, a near constant stream of whimpers escaping his throat.

"Wanna cum?" You asked, obviously already knowing the answer.

"Yes, yes, yes." He cried.

"Play with your cock then." You demanded.

He did as you said, snaking a hand underneath his torso to stroke himself needily. "Ahhh, I'm g-gonna cum, gonna cum for you."

"Dirty boy. Gonna cum from getting your ass fucked?"

"Yes! Fuuuuck." He was pumping his cock quickly, hips stuttering as he tried to simultaneously fuck into his fist and move his ass back on the toy. "Right there, oh fuck, don't stop!"

"When you cum you're gonna catch it all in your hand, understood?"

"Mmmmf!" He nodded.

"That's my good boy."

With your praise he fell apart, his other hand coming down to catch his release as his entire body shook. His voice cracked as he moaned, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as he rode out his high.

"Good fucking boy, cumming so much for me." You continued to praise him as he shot his load into his hand. "Make sure you don't drop any or you'll be in trouble."

Once the trembling in his his legs died down you removed the vibrator carefully, setting it aside before turning off his cock ring. Seonghwa stayed in his position, face down, ass up, chest heaving, tiny sounds still managing to be heard from him.

"On your back now." You helped him turn over, gazing at his fucked out face. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead, his cheeks flushed red and he glistened with sweat everywhere. "Use your cum as lube, I'm gonna ride you." You instructed, grabbing his butt plug off the nightstand. "And get this nice and wet for me." You presented it to him and he followed your directions, lubing himself up with his own release, gasping and whining at the feeling of overstimulating his softening cock. He then reached his hand out to rub it around the butt plug and without having to be asked shifted the cock ring to rest at the base of his shaft instead of the head. "You're being so good for me, baby." You cooed, rubbing the flesh of his thighs gently. "Now show me your little ass. You want it plugged up don't you?"

He nodded fervently. Hooking his hands behind his knees, not seeming to care one bit that one of them was fully covered in his arousal, he pulled them towards his chest, displaying himself for you just as you'd asked. His cock twitched against his stomach as he stared down at you In between his legs, rubbing the plug over his abused hole. He was fully hard again almost immediately, throwing his head back with his eyebrows threaded together as you pushed the plug past his rim. He squeaked when the plug settled fully in his asshole and you ran your hands along his legs, admiring him spread out before you.

"So pretty, Hwa." You complimented, pulling his legs back down onto the mattress and straddling him. "My gorgeous boy." You slotted your wet pussy right over his dick, grinding yourself over him, leaning forward to kiss him. His hands grabbed at your ass, encouraging you to continue to move. A bit of the cum that was still left on his hand now transferred to your skin but you didn't care, you'd both need a shower after this anyways. "This shirt looks so good on you, baby." You sat up a bit to trace his collarbones and shoulders through the sheer material before bringing your fingers down to his nipples, circling your thumbs over them gently. His breath caught in his throat, his body jumping slightly. "Awe, my baby's so sensitive." You pushed his shirt up, bending down to attach your mouth to one of his nipples, circling your tongue around it and nipping at it carefully with your teeth as you continued to pinch and pull at the other. This earned you a series of whines and his hands in your hair.

"Fuck. Please, wanna be inside you." He breathed.

"Oh yeah?" You pulled away from his chest and his own hands found their way to your breasts, giving you the same treatment he'd just received. You sighed out and closed your eyes. "Want you inside me too, Hwa."

You reached down and turned the vibrations back on his cock ring, causing him to jolt at the sensation. You pumped his hard cock a few times, sliding the tip through your folds and over your clit, both of you moaning. You lined him up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his length, the cock ring coming in contact with your clit as he bottomed out. You planted your hands on his chest as he grabbed at your hips, looking up at you with stars in his eyes, eyebrows pinching, mouth agape.

"Fuck baby, your pussy feels so good." His fingers dug into your flesh as you began to move.

Before long you were riding him like your life depended on it, bouncing on his cock quickly. The sound of your wet skin slapping together filled the room, as did both of your obscene moans. You were close to cumming already, the feeling of his fat cock filling you over and over mixed with the vibrations of the cock ring hitting your clit every time you came down on him causing you immense pleasure. Seonghwa didn't look like he was going to last long either, his fucked out expression only worsening with time, tears forming in his eyes, a few escaping. His overly sensitive cock just taking what you gave him. Eventually you collapsed onto his chest, grinding your clit over the cock ring while kissing his neck fervently, nibbling at his earlobe, making sure to whine right in his ear.

"Fuck, you're gonna cum aren't you?" He asked, voice cracking, slapping your ass harshly as you nodded into his shoulder. "Fuck yes, baby, cum on my cock." He encouraged, smacking your ass again. "Gonna cum with you. Gonna fill up your pussy. Can I? Fill up your slutty little cunt?"

“Fuck yes, Seonghwa.” You gripped his hair, feeling the coil within you getting dangerously close to snapping with his words. “Be a good boy, cum inside me. Fuuuck, I love your cock.”

“Please! Please cum!” He shouted suddenly. “S’too much, I can’t.” He let the tears flow freely now, it appeared he had been holding them in. With his arms wrapped around your torso he held your body tightly to his, with his eyes squeezed shut and his little sobs falling right into your ear. “Please, need you to cum. Ican’tIcan’tIcan’t.”

You felt his fingers digging into your back, his body shaking beneath you as he cried. You knew if he truly didn’t want to continue he’d use your safe word. Seonghwa took pleasure in the immense overstimulation and enjoyed crying for you because he knew you liked it when he did. “Yes, you c-can, Seonghwa. Doing so good, baby, just a little more- ohh shit.” You felt your orgasm approaching quickly, the heat in your core building. You wrapped your fingers around his neck, applying some pressure. “Cumming, Hwa, m’cumming! Fill up my pussy, baby.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice, he came immediately as your cunt clenched around him, both of your bodies shaking as you climaxed together. He let a loud, broken sob as he released deep into you. You both rode out your orgasms, panting and whining, Seonghwa still crying. After a minute, both your highs died down and you lied on top of him, sticky skin sticking to his as you released your heavy grip on his throat. He tapped at your back quickly.

“P-please, t-turn it off.” You had almost forgotten about the cock ring buzzing around his length. He sniffled as he spoke, his voice sounding pained. “Please! Turn if off, t-turn it off!”

You almost didn’t, considering keeping it on and fucking him again. But with the way he was crying and shaking you thought he might not be able to handle anymore. So you complied with his request, sitting up just enough to reach in between your sweat covered bodies and turn off the toy.

“There you go, baby.” You cooed, petting his face sweetly. He let out a sigh of relief, a jumble of quiet and tired “thank you’s” falling from his swollen lips. His head slumped to the side as his body calmed down a bit. “My prince looks so pretty when he cries.”

You kissed his jaw gently, swiping some of his tears away. You stayed like that for a little while longer, his cock softening inside you as you continued to stroke his skin softly and pepper him with gentle kisses. You couldn’t bring yourself to part from him yet, wanting to be connected to him forever. His breathing eventually slowed, his crying nearly subsided and he began to run his own fingers along your back. You felt his cum dripping out of you, spilling out down the sides of his shaft. You reached your hand in between your bodies once again, this time to collect some of the sticky substance that was dribbling out of you. You swiped your fingers around his dick and through your folds before bringing them up to his face.

“Open up.” You said softly. “Look at me.”

He obeyed. Opening his mouth and jutting his tongue out slightly while simultaneously opening his watery eyes to look at you. You slid your three fingers along his tongue and he closed his lips around them as you pushed them back into his mouth.

“Mmm.” He groaned around your digits.

“That’s my good boy.” You praised. “Do you taste good?”

He nodded and continued sucking on your fingers, swirling his tongue around them and swallowing down the mixture of both your juices. When you removed your fingers he opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out to show you he had swallowed it all. When he closed his mouth he puckered his lips cutely, silently asking you for a kiss. You obliged, pressing your lips sweetly onto his, parting his lips with your tongue. The salty taste of his own cum lingered and you could faintly taste it as you lazily made out. Before long you could feel him hardening inside you once again.

“Getting hard again, Hwa.” You whispered into his ear, placing chaste kisses along his jaw.

“Can’t help it.” He said quietly. “Pussy’s so warm around me.”

“You wanna go again?” You asked, very gently rocking your hips once. He immediately dug his fingers into your side, holding your firmly in place and shaking his head.

“No, can’t.” He almost sounded like he was going to cry again. “Please, can’t go again.”

“Shh, okay, it’s okay.” You pet his hair and carefully lifted yourself off of him. “No more tonight, baby, you did so good for me.” You continued talking to him as you sat beside him and reached down to remove the cock ring, trying your best to distract him from the feeling. “You wanna take a bath?” You began to pull the ring up his shaft slowly and his hands fisted into the sheets. He nodded, squeezing his eyes closed. “Okay, good. We’ll get you all cleaned up.” You wiggled the ring over the head of his cock, which was now bright red and overly sensitive. He sucked in sharply, a tiny squeak leaving the back of his throat as you the ring brushed over his sensitive tip. “Good job, honey.” You set the cock ring to the side and rubbed his arms lovingly. “You okay?”

He released the sheets from his tight grip and placed both his hands on your thighs, a tired smile spreading across his lips as he stared up at you. “I’m okay, my love. You take such good care of me.”

You placed a hand on his cheek and he nuzzled his face into your palm, giving you a kiss there. “Let’s get you into that bath then.” You leant down and kissed him. “Wanna cuddle.”

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #sub!hwa #sub!seonghwa #atz x reader #atz smut #Spotify

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joonsytip · 1 year

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Coffee, Tea or just more of Me? || Vernon

Pairings: Vernon x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Strangers to Friends to Lovers au, Barista!Reader au, Jock!Vernon au, University au

Synopsis: Vernon thinks life has given him another chance when sees the new barista of the café he is a regular at. You think the popular jock of the university is weird for always zoning out on you. It's the same everyday, until you to decide it's enough.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: nothing heavy just mentions of staring a lot, mention of murder as a joke once, kissing, mentions of lots of beverages, dramatic Seungkwan and Junhui but equally wholesome (lmk if I missed any)

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

A/N: Please Like, Comment and Reblog, it would really help me keep going ♡

Please send an ask or comment under the Masterlist post to get added to my permanent taglist or SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist.

[SVT Main Masterlist] [SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist]

He is staring at you again.

An exaggerated huff stirs out of your chest and you turn to the customer who looks like he'd would faint if deprived of his iced tea one more second.

You have recently started working as a part timer at the café which is a block down from your university, no genius for guessing, to add some cash to your wallet for covering some of your expenses.

The café jostles as an extremely busy hub at afternoons. Mornings doesn't attract much of a crowd except for the zombie like students who basically live on caffeine, would undoubtedly bleed in dark brownish through veins.

You work in evening shifts and evenings attract bunch of loud and shout guys.

Today's no exception, the familiar faces flood into the place, some continuous screeching of chairs or calls of name, some hearty laughs or snarky remarks that follows before all of it simmers down.

Junhui nudges at your arm and before your questioning gaze falls on him, it lands on that one face with prominent and sharpest features, hair dyed in shades of brown those stick on his sweat glistening forehead.

His eyes are not glued on you. Finally.

You look at your shiftmate, "What?"

"I thought you finally got a break.", Junhui comments while pouring coffee powder in the brewing machine.

"A break?", you echo in confusion, "I don't recollect--"

"A break from being stared at.", Junhui cuts you off when you fail catch his humour.

The eye roll that he gets as a response has him worried that they would really roll to the back of your head someday.

"Oh my god, he's coming here", Junhui squeals, "I'll fleet inside so he thinks you're alone at the counter but I'd be peaking from behind okay?", and next he's making an abrupt run to the backside.

You breathe in, breathe out and strech your lips in a smile as you walk back to the order section.

"Hi Vernon", you greet, "Can I please know your order?"

Vernon's eyes blow wide, as he whips his head from the menu card he's holding to meet your eyes.

"H-Hi...", he's shocked, so panicked right now, "Do you know me?"

Yes, you're the one who always stares at me.

Ofcourse you know him. Everybody knows him.

The star forward of the varsity soccer team.

Chwe Vernon Hansol.

You have a motive today and that's to ask him what's his deal. The only reason for which you had purposefully spilled out his name.

"You're quite popular.", you give him a smile, "And we share the Graphical Engi--"

"We share the Graphical Engineering lecture?", he spurts out comically, as if he's hearing the most amusing or the most non sensical thing in the world and the next question confirms it, "We both go to the same uni?"

"Yeah we do.", you say somewhat dejected and your thumb hovers over the computer screen, "Your order please."

"Do we seriously share the GE lecture?", he asks one more time and you simply nod.

Not something unobvious, the times you've noticed him after entering the lecture hall, you have always found his head propped on his bag which is loaded on the desk and he's soundly sleeping.

Something obvious that he doesn't know because the two of you don't even fall into the category of acquaintances.

You know him because everyone knows him because as said he's popular.

He mouths a 'wow' and goes back to ogling the same menu card. With only you being behind the counter and no one being behind him to place orders you know he's gonna take long time just to order his regular, a Latte Macchiato.

"A Latte Macchiato please.", he says and you nod robotically.

"Anything else?", you ask out of habit and your thumb is almost pressing the confirm button for billing, knowing he never has any add ons.

"Would you like to suggest something?"

You gape at him amused.

Vernon has his expectant eyes on you and you have your comical ones on him.

"Y/N?", he asked with concern and your eyes blow wider.

Your gaze immediately drops on your uniform, no there isn't any tag of your name pinned on you.

He's not reading your name, he knows your name.

"How do you know my name?", you ask him stunned. No you are not over reacting, not when you have seen who and how hard people are trying to woo him.

Oh well, his nicknames include Geek God and DiCaprio.

Vernon thinks he has caused an accidental slip up and thinks of ways to cover it up.

"Your co-workers call you by your name, I've heard it many times.", he blurts out.

You don't buy it but you don't peer further.

It's been two weeks since you are working in the café and you hadn't even noticed him until Junhui decided to knock over your obliviousness.

It was your third shift and you were seated on the tool leisurely when Junhui came over saying.

"Vernon keeps on looking at you. I have been noticing."

"Vernon? The Geek God VERNON? Looking at me? Sure, I look funny."

That was your comment before you waved him off instantly.

Day four and you decide to observe the varsity star just to confirm the genuineness of Junhui's comments.

"He's staring at you again."

This time you pull out your pocket mirror and Junhui, the genius angles it perfectly so no one was suspecting anything and you confirmed that Vernon was really staring at you.

You didn't what to make out of his blank expression.

The next week rolled in and you were having a casual conversation with Junhui and your best friend, the best gossip pal Seungkwan.

"Oh my god, you're planning to bag Vernon--"

Seungkwan's dramatic quip stopped abruptly when you slapped your hand on his mouth.

"Nothing adds up, Kwan. He definitely stares but with the most neutral expression I have ever seen on anyone. Like he could be plotting my murder but again he could also be looking at me and thinking about Teletubbies in his head."

Junhui was almost rolling on the floor which he was supposed to mop after those words left your mouth.

"But he lingers longer when Y/N is at counter.", Junhui managed to add, "The time he spends there holding that same menu card, if it had been me, I'd have had it memorized."

Two curious pair of eyes landed on the blonde haired boy and he took his position on one of the tools as he crossed his legs and leaned back at the wall behind.

"I have been working here for over a year and trust me, Vernon never made orders. Their group have a guy called Chan, who mostly places the collective order. I think I have taken orders from almost everyone but Vernon. He never did until Y/N came."

Seungkwan was suddenly wolf whistling and doing some questionable dancing with Junhui.

But you were still concerned.

Did you anyhow do something to offend him?

Vernon likes you, a lot.

It's not sudden, it's not prolated.

His liking towards you leads back to Cheshire, a stray cat he has been sheltering for some time.

The first time he saw you was when he decided to visit Cheshire before heading towards home after a game. You were already feeding her a can of tuna, unaware of his presence.

He watched you petting her, making funny sounds to entertain her to you sitting on the ground so that she could lay on your lap and take a nap.

Though his heart swelled and chest tinged, he watched it all with a straight face. Often misunderstood by people because of his blank stares he's tired of convincing them that it's never intentional, rather a habit by birth. He's just a bit lesser expressive that's all.

This continued for days, he would watch you play with Cheshire and waited until you left so that Cheshire could get her dose of SeroVertonin for the day.

Unknowingly, he develops a bond with you, solely from his side.

Vernon is also so grateful to you. Once Cheshire had gone missing for two days and Vernon could feel his heart plummeting to stomach, a fear creeping within him when he couldn't find her in all the places he searched.

He had given up but still visited the place in hopes of seeing her. He could vividly remember the pang in his chest when he saw her again inside the shelter with a note stuck on one of the bricks.

Hi,

I found her by an alleyway that's really far from here. She's safe so don't worry. Thanks for providing her a shelter.

Vernon still keeps the note in his wallet.

The day he decided to introduce himself to you was the day you stopped showing up. And he had no way to reach up to you except for waiting.

He gradually gave up with lots of regret and longing until he saw you again at the café.

Always been asked out, never have asked someone out person Vernon was at loss of words and actions. With no idea how to approach you, he sorted back to his same old habit.

While you indulged in different activities, he indulged himself in watching you, unaware that you have caught onto it.

Next day during GE lecture, you are scribbling down the notes in a questionable handwriting knowing you won't be able to decipher a word out of it later.

When the professor excuses himself out of the hall for some sudden priority work you could sense someone's gaze on you.

Quickly whipping your head and sweeping glances across the hall makes your gaze meets with Vernon's.

Oh, how could you not guess it.

He's flustered when he looks away and next he's grabbing his bag and skipping down the stairs to fleet out of the class.

But your sprint to catch him is faster than the Cheetahs.

"Vernon!"

You call out at the corridor and now every living object in the area is looking at you, waiting for another proposal - rejection episode.

Suddenly you feel small, having those curious eyes, mocking smiles pivoted at you.

Vernon notices your flickering gaze and he doesn't like the creases between your brows.

In three large strides, he covers the distance between two of you and before you could comprehend the situation, his loud voice reaches your ears.

"You didn't have to run so hard for returning my pen.", he's eyeing the pen in your hand, "But I'll take it because you have a habit of loosing them."

The murmurs are loud as others try hard to understand the dynamics you both share.

A glare in sweeping gaze from the jock causes the whispers to simmer down and the crowd regain it's mobility again.

"Thanks",you peer ar him, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Vernon thinks he should be run away. His heels are hot and his mind is calculating precs for a run but his heart wants to listen to you.

This time the heart prevails.

As Vernon follows you to the emptier section of the corridor, you think you'd get indigestion from the venomous glares you are accumulating throughout.

"Have I done something to upset you?"

Your question catches him off guard.

When he doesn't respond you throw a follow up, "I'm sorry if I'm wrong but I have seen you staring at me for past days."

Vernon cheeks blush up in pink tint as his gaze falls down. He's biting his lip and shaking his head.

You know his having a conversation in his head but right now you want to be a part of it.

"I won't be judging you if that's what you're worried about.", you assure him, "I just want to know if I have ever unintentionally caused you trouble in any possible way."

Time is elapsing but you wait with all the patience. Vernon seems distressed and you feel bad for this sudden counter you have roped him into.

"I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable.", he says in a calm and assuring voice, "That wasn't my intention. It's just, I always have this poker face on and people feel, well, how you're feeling right now.", he laughs but you could feel the strain behind the words.

"I have been searching for you so long and now that I've found you, as cheesy as it sounds", his lips curl up the slightest almost making no difference to the previous neutral expression but this time you notice the gleam in his eyes as he says, "I can't take my eyes of you."

Your heart skips a beat. Damn Vernon for being so smooth.

"Cheshire misses you.", and he adds suddenly so now nothing is making sense to you.

"What do you mean by that? Do we know each other from before? Who's Cheshire?"

Vernon chuckles and he's pulling out his phone to show you his device wallpaper.

Your hand fly to your mouth in shock when you recognise whom Vernon is refering to.

"I also miss her.", You say with a stain of longing in your voice and look at him expectantly, "I can take a guess at some parts but you'll have to fill up the rest for me."

Vernon agrees instantly.

"But for now if you're free, would you mind taking me to her?"

"Ofcourse! Let's go.", he offers and he's relieved, "I'll explain everything on the way."

You are miserable without Junhui as the later takes a day off to perform at another gig. The café is not as busy so you're bored.

"Can I place my order?"

Your voice perks up at the familiar voice and your gaze lifts to see Vernon standing at the queue lane.

"Sure Sir", and you're laughing at the face he makes, "Latte macchiato is it?"

"Yes--"

"No.", you cut him off, "Let me serve you my special today, up for it?"

Vernon nods in delight and he goes back to take his seat and you go to the kitchen, asking your coworker to manage the counter for some time.

When you come back with a glass of Peach Tranquility on the tray, Vernon salivates at the beverage because of the fruity smell and vibrant colours.

"I never knew a Herbal Tea could taste this good.", Vernon compliments you, "Or is the magic in the hands of the one making it?"

Your cheeks warm up, meeting his gaze seems to be difficult so you scurry away making an excuse of getting to the counter.

Does he make your heart flutter as much as you do to his, Vernon ponders over.

Jealousy is a disease and you have it.

It's been weeks since you introduced Vernon to two of your treasured friends. You still remember the first encounter.

"Should I leave? They don't like me it seems."

Vernon whispered in your ear and you held his arm on an instinct, a gesture meaning no stay.

After some awkward glances and formal talks you were successful in stirring the fluidity between the three.

And now, Seungkwan and Junhui are more Vernon's friends then they are yours.

You are really content, though sometimes you get jealous how close they seem but it's funny how perfectly Vernon slots himself in your life.

What's funnier? It's the way your heart has been constricting whenever you're around Vernon. The air around get harder to breath in when he's too close to you. You know what it means, you're not dumb.

And because you're not dumb you know that harbouring a crush on Vernon is ridiculous because, well, he's handsome, he's a popular and he has the whole town lined up for him.

Everytime it occurs to you, a wistful sigh comes out and you end up waving the thoughts away.

Your memories of the past weeks makes you realise how Vernon clogs in each one of them.

"If I'm failing this class, it's on you."

Your GE lectures are similar expect nowadays you are occupying one of the chairs at back and Vernon's bag is of no use as he always lays his head on your shoulder quoting it gives him the best sleep.

"Stop being dramatic, take notes and let me sleep Y/N."

Instead of taking notes, you always end up counting his lashes, admire his sharp nose or linger your gaze on his lush lips.

"Don't you have a match tomorrow?"

You couldn't pinpoint since when you had started taking notes of his session calenders for the soccer matches.

"Will you come?"

It was kind off ritual to Vernon, asking you to attend the matches and getting a no everytime. Not that he minded, knowing you had no interest or knowledge in the sports, plus the extra classes you attended was taking much of your time and he would never want to add another baggage to your counter.

"Here, I made you porridge since you still have fever but decided to work your shift.", Vernon places the carrier on the counter sounding disappointed, "I got you some medicines as well."

After your shift ended, you found Vernon waiting for you by one of the tables. You took the carrier and pushed it to him, taking the seat adjacent to his.

"You want me to feed you?"

You didn't even have to answer him and he was opening the lids while holding the spoon in his hands.

The red tints on your cheeks were not from fever burns but because of the guy who was feeding you, even letting you use his other arm as a pillow but he didn't need to know that.

Seungkwan takes a sip of his Iced Americano in silence. Junhui is unusually quiet, he's the one spacing out today.

"You have done nothing except for sipping on that never ending drink", Vernon points to Seungkwan in an accusatory tone and turns to the one sitting beside him, "And you, are you awake? Are you sleeping? Are you even listening?"

Seungkwan lets out a hum, a poised one which makes Vernon anxious.

"So you admit to liking Y/N?"

Vernon cocks his brow, "Is this a court session? Am I being charged?"

"Just answer in Yes or No."

"Yes. I like her, a lot. I think I love her.", Vernon says it again, with sincerity and emphasis.

Junhui chimes in with a grin, "We know. You're damn obvious but", the grin is wipped off and seriousness ghosts over as he continues, "It's not that we don't trust you but we want to be sure that this is not some kind of prank or a bet which general goes on between the group of jocks. We have seen that a lot and everytime the one on recieving end gets heartbroken, mocked and it becomes their pain to bear."

"The one causing it is termed cool or passed as if it's obvious. It never effects the popular person. They go on as if nothing ever happened and their popularity remains the same.", Seungkwan picks up, "To be honest, your other circle is good, I have never seen or heard anything problematic which comes as a surprise but I hope you understand where we both are coming from."

"No one would want to see their friend suffer", Vernon says with stark seriousness, "I swear on Cheshire and Soccer that I really love Y/N and I want to court her."

Seungkwan gasps before closing the palms over his mouth.

Junhui stands on his feet wide eyed, the chair making the loudest screech because of the abrupt movement.

And Vernon thinks he had said something wrong. Incredibly wrong.

"Oh my god, did you hear him?", Seungkwan asks Junhui.

"He's totally smitten, gosh!", comes the other's response.

Vernon groans, heart pulsating a little lesser than before. He's at fault for forgetting how dramatic these two idiots can be.

They exchange a knowing glance before looking Vernon.

"Confess to her.", both of them say in unison.

Vernon is however unfazed, "Trust me I want to. If I could do it right now--"

"Do it as soon as you can.", Seungkwan encourages him.

"It's not easy when I know I'll get awkward around her", Vernon knows he's gonna spend some sleepless nights, "But I need to one up."

You are confused when you reach the shelter to see no signs of Vernon when he was the one to call you up to meet him here.

Cheshire meows at you, circling around your feet when you notice a note tied to her tail.

Turn left and walk past the tree if you wanna a play a game with me.

-Vernon

Your eyes squint searching for the creator of the note that you're holding as you turn around. You start walking towards the instructed place while Cheshire follows you.

Vernon is so nervous that if now someone asks him which team he plays for he'd mix up the names, his jersey number, even the position he plays in.

He almost jolts when he sees you approaching but Goodness Gracious his calming pill, Cheshire is also with you.

"What's the meaning of this note?"

"I want to send a code to you.", Vernon explains, "Answer three questions to get a slot each time and put it as a whole to decode my message."

You have never been this confused in your entire existence but you comply.

"First question,", Vernon says, his nervousness swaying away a bit, "Which jersey number is generally assigned to a team's first choice goalkeeper?"

The gears in your head don't need to turn at all.

You immediately respond, "When I said, I intake everything you speak about your passion including facts, I mean it.", your lips curl up, "The answer is 1."

Everytime he thinks his heart couldn't swell more you prove it wrong.

"Correct!", he is grinning, being so proud of you.

You mirror his grin

"Next question is... it's the easiest of all", his brows cocks at you, "What's the only self-enumerating number in English?"

You scoff and speak nonchalantly, "4. What am I, a four year old trying to memorize numbers?"

Vernon chuckles, "You got that correct too. Now time for the last question."

You brace yourself for the last one. Cheshire is seated on the ground, in between you two, her gaze moving from you to Vernon and vice versa.

"I am usually found with a couple of friends, Quarter a dozen, and you'll find me again. What am I?", he asks with a underlying tone, "Even though it's a riddle, you'll have to take the words as it is to crack this."

It's time you have use your brain. Riddles are meant to make you think about everything expect for the actual answer which most of times are present in the question itself.

Vernon watches you intently as you bite your nail, a habit of yours when you're thinking too hard. He crouches to pet Cheshire and the later purrs in content.

Some time passes by and you're still thinking of everything and anything unaware of the amused looks you're getting from both Vernon and Cheshire.

"Got it!", your sudden yell startles him, "The answer is 3!"

Vernon is instantly up on his heels as he smiles, "Congratulations for getting all the no-brainers correct.", he laughs when you scowl, "Now the last part, put the answers together and you'll get the code. Decode it and that'll be the message I'm trying to send you."

"Okay, let me put it together.", you mumble, "In order right? Then it's 1 4 3--"

You tongue gets tied and you look at Vernon with wide eyes. The nervousness that had simmered down comes back to him tenfold. He could feel his legs giving up when he meets your gaze.

None of you speak.

Both of you are frozen.

His heart might burst out of his chest if you prolong your answer one minute more. You only hope that what's Vernon trying to say is the only meaning to 143 that you know.

Cheshire, the cute little bean could also sense the tension between her adoptive parents. So she meows to stir some mobility.

Vernon thinks it's time he asks for his sake. He's about to open to his mouth when he hears you.

"I love you too.", you say so timidly and look away that Vernon has to close the gap between you two.

"Can you say it again?", he asks in desperation, "Do you really mean it?"

The index hooked under your chin, forces you to look at him.

"I love you, Vernon."

Comes your affirmation and the words that he needed to hear.

His head dips down to plant his lips on yours. Your arms circle around his neck and his settles on your waist.

He has his eyes opened while you have them closed. That's definitely a sight he'd love to see everyday, he's sure. You're loving the plush of his lips against yours and you don't miss how gentle his grip is on you. This feeling is so new yet so satisfactory that you'd need to have it everyday, you're sure.

"I love you, Y/N.", he whispers against your lips and you pull him back to have the touch of his lips again.

It's intoxicating.

You are kissing under the stars, moonlight being the only illumination on you both. The birds are chirping something soothing faraway and the cold breeze is doing nothing to cool you because it's Vernon, the only other you can feel on yourself.

You both break the kiss giggling when you hear another mewl from Cheshire. You immediately lift up the feline in your arms and Vernon is hugging you from back as you both pet her.

"You could have just confessed directly you know?", you crane your neck to tease him, "What if I got the answers wrong?"

Vernon pecks your forehead and says, "I had a lot of alternatives ready. I wouldn't have let you go until I got the correct answers from you."

You gaped at him in disbelief.

"Such a dork."

"But your dork", he laughs making you smile as well.

"How about we rename Cheshire to Cupid?"

"The shop is closed, we won't be taking anymore orders Sir.", you are half leaning on the counter and as you joke around with the man standing infront of you.

Your boyfriend.

Vernon is unfazed, "I was in a mood good, would have tipped you well."

You snort at his response and you're undoing the ties of your apron, "Well in that case, along with our regular menu I can provide you an exclusive item."

"Sounds good, can I know what it entails?"

You keep the apron inside the case and walk out from behind the counter. When you do so, Vernon is instantly pulling you to him as he entwines his fingers with yours.

"Would you prefer Coffee, Tea", you grin tightening your grip on him, "or just more of Me?"

Vernon feigns to ponder, even rubbing his chin for a good measure, "The last one sounds appealing. I'd always like to have you, love."

"You're so corny.", you're pinching the bridge of his nose, "Good that I love you."

Vernon just smiles and the warmth he's radiates is enough for you to thrive longer, to love stronger.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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bl4cktourmaline · 6 months

Note

Furina meeting someone in fontaine who somehow doesn't know them... Sounds refreshing and fluffy!

꒰⌗´͈ ᵕ ॣ`͈⌗꒱৩ — furina

✿ — ♬ ⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ : x/modmafuyu is typing... ✉!

✿ — ↻ SYNOPSIS : Furina meeting a fontainian(reader) who doesn't know her.

✿ — ♯ GENRE : Fluff(mostly), bittersweet

✿ — ⊜ CW : Nil

✿ — ↠ NOTE : Hi hi Anon~ Thank you for requesting~ I had a lot of fun making this fic and I hope you'll enjoy reading it ! I know you wanted fluff but I accidentally made a bittersweet ending. Hope that's alright!<3

Timeline would be Furina still acting out her role. So that this fic would not go too far out of character.

Just a warning, 4.2 spoilers.

[h/c] - hair color

[e/c] - eye color

✿ — ♪ REMINDER : reblogs & likes are appreciated, in doing so will motivate us to continue delivering stories to you, thank you for all of your supports ~ !

Extra: if you would like to request, click here and read the writing rules for each writer !

✿ — ♭ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ... : ...No one

✿ — ► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Furina

CLICK CLACK CLICK!

A petite girl was seen running out of the Palais Mermonia in the Court of Fontaine. As she took off running as far as her legs could take her.

-----------------FLASHBACK-----------------

"...Miss Furina, I do hope you know the prophecy will come sooner or later. Even if Fontaine hasn't experience any deleterious flooding.. yet.. We must act fast to ensure all our citizen are safe and won't live in fear. Who knows how long till they believe in those 'rumors'"

"I do know that! ...I promise I'm doing something useful to help everyone."

"I can clearly sense that you are hiding something from me. Please, just tell me what is it that you are covering up."

"I-I'm telling you! I'm not hiding anything. I am your archon, could you PLEASE stop doubting me?!"

...

-------------------------------------------------

'How much longer..'

pant pant pant

'So lonely..'

pant pant pant

'Please let this show end..'

THUD

The petite girl collided with the ground due to exhaustion. She began looking around, upon seeing no one, she felt a little relieved to see that no one had spotted her being in a mess from earlier.

..Well probably except for the Chief of Justice.

'..Way to go Furina, if he wasn't already suspicious of me, he definitely is now..'

As the girl slowly picked herself up from the ground and continued to wandered mindlessly, wanting to get her mind off things for a bit.

Furina strolled leisurely while admiring the scenery upon her. She usually doesn't have time to be curious and as carefree while playing the role of the archon.

'Where am I anyways? I've.. Never been out of the city before'

As Furina came across a sunny and bright view. Where the sun is beaming while waves crash into one another, accompanied by golden rocks.

Although it is an unfamiliar surrounding, Furina only felt comfort feeling the breeze of the atmosphere as she slowly trotted over to the sea.

'What is this place? I've never been here but it feels really easy to relax..'

As Furina slowly took in the sunlight and windy zephyr and sighed. If only she could adventure and explore the world even more..

Being lost in thought, the petite girl did not notice someone in the distance sneaking up behind her.

'..It's really hard being an ar-'

"BOO!"

"AHHH?!"

Furina out of instinct, quickly lifted her arms into a defensive pose to shield her from whatever is coming after her.

"Ahaha! You should've seen the look on your face."

As Furina slowly opened her eyes, she saw a unfamiliar [h/c] person with [e/c] eyes. Realising they were a fontainian, she immediately cleared her throat.

"What look? I was preparing to attack you, you're lucky I took the flight response or else I would've seriously injured you!"

Furina folded her arms looking really displeased with whoever scared her.

"Ahaha.. Sorry, you just looked a little bit depressed. Anyways, I'm [name], nice to meet you. Now, may I ask why such a beautiful lady was looking quite down?"

"B-beautiful?!"

"Mhm! I've heard my friends say that the hydro archon was really pretty. At this rate I might mistake you as them!"

[Name] looking quite content with their response, giving a close-eyed smile.

"Ahem! A-Anyways, to answer your question. I was simply dreading about my workload. I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"Oh really? Guess it isn't a big issue. I'm glad."

'They're glad? I'm just some stranger though, I'm not sure why they're that relieved..'

"So, how's the beach? Pretty relaxing huh? I usually come here after I run my errands."

"Oh.. So this is called a beach, I've never seen one my whole life until today. It really isn't that bad at all to spend a day off here."

Furina then turned her view back to the waves, wanting to treasure this moment before returning to her dull stage.

Suddenly Furina felt something. Only to turn to see [name] placing a rainbow flower in her hair.

"Eh?! What's up with the sudden flowers?! Forget that, how did you even get them?!"

"I did mention I run errands, and that is when I go flower hunting to find beautiful flowers to add to my garden. I decided to give this rainbow flower to you as a gift. It's fitting for a beauty like you~!"

"W-wha-"

"Also, just want to ask, do you work for the hydro archon? You called me a mortal, surely the hydro archon must've have cute colleauges!"

"..."

[Even-More-Fluff Ending] - Optional to read

"Do you not know who the hydro archon is?"

"..Not really, I live on the country side, but I do hear adventurers say that she is dazzling and charismatic. Although it fits into your description.. Surely I'm not talking to the hydro archon."

"...Yeah you're right, I'm not the hydro archon ahahaha! I-I'm her coworker. Yep, pleasure serving under her!"

'God damnit Furina! What are you doing?!'

'...'

'Maybe they are the person I can confide in.. However I know that's impossible, but it does feel nice to not need to put my guard up as high..'

[Bittersweet Ending: continuation of Even-More-Fluff Ending] - Optional to read

When Furina returned to her office in Palais Mermonia. She sat in her chair recounting her recent encounter with [name]. Hoping to see her again.

So she began having meetups with [name] more frequently. Of course, this caught onto Neuvilette's attention since Furina never leaves the city much. So he decided to follow her on one eventful day.

Only to see the archon with a mortal. He didn't know much about this other person that was with Furina so he decided to interrupt their conversation.

"Miss Furina?"

"Huh?! Neuvilette?! W-What are you doing here?"

"Well the hydro archon has been frequently leaving the city for quite a while so I wanted to check it out. Whose this other person you're with?"

"W-wait.. Furina?! You're the hydro archon?!"

[Name] stared in disbelief, immediately apologising for their rude behaviour towards her.

'Well there goes my identity.. Oh well it was pretty fun while it lasted."

#modmafuyu #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin scenarios #furina #furina x reader #genshin furina #furina genshin #genshin oneshots #oneshot #genshin fluff #fluff #bittersweet

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writefightandflightclub · 4 months

Text

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Three (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but can you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running?

Genre: a LOT of tasty angst, some tasty smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see series warnings, here.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule and series masterlist are here.

Author’s note: Thank you so much if you're still here :) Hope you enjoy chapter 3! I'm so grateful for the interaction so far, and any feedback / comments / reblogs / asks would seriously mean the world!

Word count: 7.1k for this part

Santiago’s eyes flit over you as you ever so deliberately lean yourself up against the counter edge, legs stretched and elongated before you.

He just told you he’s missed you, after all these months apart - an admission you’d never expected so readily from him - but you, on the other hand, can’t bring yourself to be quite as forthcoming.

Instead, you fold your arms firmly around your middle and your expression grows taut - despite his effort to soften things. To close this distance. To drag you back in.

Stubbornly, you offer a big fat nothing in response. Opt not to make things easy for him.

Still, although you don’t make any move to invite him closer, you certainly do not make any move to deter him.

And so, Santiago inches forwards, stepping into the place of your sketched memories of him -all you’ve had for months- and showing them up to be wholly inadequate. When you’d imagined him he wasn’t this. He is so much more than you had been dwelling on. More handsome. More affecting. More Santiago.

He was hard enough to resist as an outline - as a vestige of the warmth he offered you. You don’t know if you can resist the full force of his corporeal form, and its promise of touch. You don’t even know if you want to.

Santiago is a wound you could never close. A scab you always pick. A scar you will always carry. It’s not nice to think of him in such a way, but you don’t know another way any longer. He hurts you, but you don’t know how to stop letting him get close enough to do it.

Your expression remains taut, however, even as Santiago’s face dances with a tentative smile, crinkles blooming around his eyes like sunbeams. A veneer of easy charm paints his features, no doubt in an attempt to sucker you in.

He always was good at that.

He just never quite knew what to do next when he had you.

To answer Tom’s question, Santiago had never used a line on you, no; but, since you started hooking-up, he had never needed to. Not once. You were weak for him, and it didn’t take much at all to drag you into him. Barely anything, in fact. A bad day. A drink or two. A lingering hug and parted lips, hovering just a little too close to your neck. A hand smoothed down your back, a little lower than he’d thought to touch before. A thick, dark eyebrow raised with a question, a nod towards his bed with a solution, and then, you were his. Unravelling all over him. Tipping into him then falling - so far. Further than you’ve ever fallen.

And God, you had tried. Tried to love him only in fragments. See him in pieces. Friend. Soldier. Lover.

But you saw him all at once.

He had drawn you in; because that’s what he does, isn’t it? It’s what he’s good at. He drags people in. To him. To danger. Because he can. Because he wants to. Because he needs to. Because he can’t bear to hurt alone. Because anything is a weapon in his lethal hands. His touch alone had even become a weapon, in the end. His fingers on you, inside you. Santiago knew exactly how to take you apart; but he didn’t know when to stop dismantling you.

His hands had never learned to build things.

It’s not his fault. Not really.

Still, you can’t help but blame him for it.

Santiago treads closer still, and your chest tightens with feeling.

You wish desperately that you had that same power over him. The power to pull him, to drag him, to persuade him into safety; but Santiago’s always looking for a close call as though he depends on them. As though, if he steps back from the edge, he will forget what it feels like to live without the constant threat of dying.

Santiago stops a few strides from you, planting his feet and shuffling from foot to foot, ugly flip flops slapping obnoxiously against the tiles.

You have so much to say to him. So many things you’ve rehearsed and scripted in your head these past months. But suddenly, all of that is too much to verbalise. Instead, there is something else burning far more strongly than regret or resentment or anger or saving face. More strongly than the million things you had sworn you had wanted to scream at him if only you could finally get him in front of you.

The truth is, you’ve missed him too.

You miss him.

This distance of only a few strides is the furthest you’ve ever felt from him, and you want nothing more than to close it.

Here, like this, you’re achingly aware that he’s not touching you. Hasn’t touched you, since he arrived here.

There was no hug hello. There has been no conspiratorial huddle of your bodies. No leaning into him on the couch. No sign of the two of you moving as one. In tandem. Symbiotically.

No lovers. No friends. No soldiers. And what are you without that?

You had left the latter life behind but you didn’t mean to lose the former too.

Santiago scratches his chin, flecked stubble rasping along his jaw, against the rough pads of his fingers, and your core turns itself over. In this moment, you can recall the textures of him as thoroughly as if you are touching him yourself.

Touch - that’s it.

Touch is the shared language you two have even when there are no words.

It is the language you have always shared. Developed over time, adding deeper and more elaborate phrasings to the point that, now, there are things you simply cannot say to each other without your fingers, your hands, your bodies, your lips. Therefore, in so many ways, until you can touch him? Until you have touched him? It will continue to feel like you haven’t yet spoken. Like you haven’t spoken since he left you in that doorway and you spat cruel words at him down the stairwell. Like you haven’t spoken since his hands -his touch- were last on you. Inside you. Over you. Covering you.

You haven’t spoken since his hands were moving over your body and telling you he loved you. Needed you. Wanted you.

And that? That won’t do. That’s too long without speaking to your best friend.

You undeniably need his touch now, regardless of how dangerous it may be. You need it, regardless of whether or not it is a weapon in his palms. Indeed, with the words attempting to burst out of you still too numerous and craving this far more intimate, straightforward shorthand, you simply move to hug him.

Santiago.

To draw him into you and gather him up into your arms. Your oldest, dearest friend.

You drink the scent of him in, and it is the scent of home. A home you’ve been searching for everywhere since you left it behind. A home you haven’t found anything close to back here - even at the family dinner table. A belonging you haven’t found in your new place, no matter how many throw cushions you buy and rearrange or how many photographs you hang in the hallway.

And so, the sheer force of your embrace takes Santiago by surprise, his hands still shoved in the deep pockets of his cargo shorts; but, in only moments he is reacting, wrapping his arms around you too. You’re not proud of it, but for the first time in months you feel like you can breathe.

Your fingers travel to any bare patch of skin you can find, snaking up to the back of his neck, into his hair, relearning the textures of him. Mapping his body beneath your touch. Cataloging every contour and swell of his terrain. And, it gives you pause as you find a fresh, ridged scar sliced into the back of his neck.

How didn’t you notice this before?

Oh yeah – that’s right. Because you’ve barely dared to look at him. To see him. Only dared to grasp at fragments of him, rather than risk seeing him all at once.

Santiago feels you urgently exploring the ridge with your fingers when you reach it, an unfamiliar range freshly cartographed on the map of his skin. A new dimension to the familiar paths your fingertips have traversed time and time again.

You pull away in shock, your fingers trembling. “What’s that? What happened?”

Santiago routinely got injured when you were in the field with him. Usually right in front of you. That hurt too, of course – seeing him in pain. In danger. But you weren’t quite prepared for the way it would scoop out a hole in your chest to know that he had been hurt without you by his side. That he had been hurting alone.

You knew, somehow. Knew he would throw himself into it when you’d left – into the danger. That he would get reckless without you around and God, what if something had happened? What if something had happened and you’d left it like that- the way you did? Fraught and angry and never having said any kind of proper goodbye? Leaving an open wound in your wake like that? How would you ever hope to piece yourself back together then?

Finally, your eyes swim with the tears that you’ve been holding back all weekend, for longer, and which suddenly find their exit valve so suddenly that you can’t even hope to prevent them. Instead then, you scrub them helplessly from your cheeks as you search Santiago’s eyes for answers.

“It’s okay,” Santiago soothes, smoothing his broad palms up and down your arms, shoulders to elbows. “Hey, it’s okay. Sweetie. I’m okay. Had that pain in my neck, remember? Went to get it fixed.”

It takes a moment for your surge of worry to still as you fight through the cloud of it, your eyes flitting all over his face. Your trembling fingers grasp his forearms in your grip as his broad hands shift to support you beneath the elbow, his thumb raking back and forth over your skin to subdue your concern. You feel ridiculous, but your eyes continue to ball with rogue tears. That is, until Santiago reaches beneath your chin and grips it, giving it a gentle jostle, his eyes steady and reassuring. “I’m okay. Really. Quick surgery. No complications.”

You nod. Blink through the tears. “Okay. Okay. Right. Did it work? Pain in your neck gone?”

His cheek tugs on a smile. “Debatable. Tom’s still sat outside, last I checked.”

You smile too. Release a light exhale of a laugh, venting some of the pressure.

You examine Santiago’s face, painted as it is with mild shock and confusion, as though he’s wondering how you could possibly get so worked up about this new little nick on his neck. He never did quite get it, did he? What he means to you? “You promise you’re not hurt? Really?”

He drops your arms. “It’s not your job to worry about me any more, remember?”

The blow feels low, even for him. A crack in his layered on charm, no matter how casually he attempts to pass it off.

“Sure. It might not be my ‘job’ but it’s still my life’s fucking work, idiot. You got surgery. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

His brows draw down. “Well. We haven’t exactly been friendly lately. Not since…” his pink tongue curls around his lip, as though he can’t quite complete that thought. Can’t quite bear to revisit how you left things. At least, not out loud.

He folds his arms around himself, creating a barrier, and you see the shutters go up over his eyes too.

There it is again. This distance.

Your shoulders slump with an exhale. “Fuck, Santiago. This is so much harder than I… The way we left it. I…”

You watch a hard swallow trail down Santiago’s corded neck.

How did you leave it, exactly?

Hurt.

Yes.

But also; searing pleasure. Pulse hammering in a hot throat. Insistent, grasping, spearing fingers. Stubble as rough and warm as sand. The urgent, soothing slide of tongue. Unfinished.

Unfinished, and it’s so hard not to simply fall on to his lips in this moment. Warm. Soft. Familiar.

He’s remembering too, and his sunken gaze dips to your mouth. His throat bobs around another thick swallow. And, as he so often does when his feelings become too much, Santiago yeets them away. Far away, in the worst possible way. “It’s okay,” he says coolly. “Look. I forgive you.”

Your mouth falls open, in complete indignation. “Me? You forgive me?”

He rocks from foot to foot. “Well… yeah.”

Santiago’s -up to now- cool, calm expression twitches with evident irritation as you scoff. Meanwhile, a sudden, hot rage tremors in your belly, making you gallop over your words so fast you almost trip. “Excuse me?! You’re the fucker who stormed out. Who left it like that.”

“Princesa,” he says, still eerily calm despite the momentary fracturing of his mask. “You left the fuckin’ country without saying goodbye.”

Your nostrils flare. You boil.

This anger which has festered for months, it seems, is finally finding a release valve. It is an ugly, gnarled thing, and yet, you lean into it with your whole self. You lean into it because it’s bringing you closer to him, the distance between your bodies tightening and shrinking as you zone in on one another with this twisting, animated rage.

“Oh ho ho! Funny that the other boys managed to find the airstrip just fine, isn’t it? Frankie had a good luck banner. Benny brought me fucking sandwiches.”

Santi rolls his eyes so hard. “Benny’s always been sweet on you.”

“And you’re not?!”

The words scrape you on the way out, like sand in your throat, and by the time you are almost chest to chest with Santiago, jabbing your pointer finger into the valley between his pecs in utter disbelief, it is too late.

Too late to retreat as his hand almost absent-mindlessly settles over yours to relieve himself from the stab of your accusatory finger.

Then, as coolly and calmly as his words are delivered, he still opts to level an accusation of his own. “You never should have left in the first place.”

You snatch your hand away from his before the heat can travel up your arm and settle in your chest. And, in this moment, in response, you find that you want to hurt him. Perhaps a part of you truly is cruel.

This time, your words are delivered coolly too. Slow, so that every syllable has time to crawl under his skin. “Santiago. I had no damn reason to stay.”

You watch as his eyes flash with a momentary knife lick of pain. He takes an almost imperceptible step back from you, whatever wolfy words in sheep’s clothing he was about to rasp dying in his throat. Instead, he exhales a huff of air through his teeth. Shakes his head. Smiles a smile somehow entirely scrubbed of joy.

The implication of your words is clear.

He was not reason enough for you to stay.

“There,” he says coolly. Unfeelingly. Icily. “Are you done?” He scoops a hand around his mouth, stubble rasping beneath his palm, his eyes glassy and dulled now.

Whatever satisfaction you had expected to derive from hurting him was a false sun. You feel empty now too, for having dulled his brightness.

Did the anger make anything better, you ask yourself? Did it change a damn thing?

No.

Here you are, still entirely burdened by this weight in your chest.

Still at such an impasse.

Still best friends.

Still bound.

Still falling to pieces.

Still hopelessly in love with him.

And it’s still not enough.

You watch him rock self-consciously from foot to foot once more. Attacked but not retreating. Still here. Still trying, in his own way.

You wish you could state with some truth that you’re sorry. That you can forgive him. You don’t know if that’s real, but you still know one thing for sure.

You missed him, and you do still want to close this distance. To heal this wound, not deepen it. Whatever it takes.

“Fine. I’m sorry. I-”

“-Bullshit, hermosa.”

You look down at the floor, almost ashamed that you can’t bend the words quite enough on your tongue to make them feel true in your mouth. That Santiago saw right through you.

But why would you be sorry?

In your estimation, Santiago owes an apology far more than you do.

Still, when you finally drag your eyes back up to his, his stare somehow feels softer. Bright enough with possibility, at least, to singe away your would-be tears.

Maybe it’s because he sees you still here and still trying.

You want to say something more, to do something, but you are entirely at a loss. The anger had gotten you nowhere - no closer to resolution - and you had not once in four months looked beyond it to what might happen next. To what the possibilities might be.

You blink slow and long, bringing your palms up to shield your eyes as you gather yourself for a moment.

Then…

“Here,” Santiago’s weakened voice sounds after a while. You hear the clink of a couple of glasses to the side of you, being grabbed up from the counter.

“What?” you blink a few times in confusion.

“Help me out.” Still, you look blank. “With the dishes.”

You look around the kitchen, as if suddenly noticing where you are. As if only just having clocked the chaos created by you and the boys after an evening of hearty dinner and drinking. Corn husks and burger buns. Beer bottles and discarded dishes littering the surfaces.

“Pope…”

“Come on. Like you wouldn’t be lying in bed staring at the ceiling all night if we left these festering ‘til morning?”

Festering.

Slack-jawed, you watch Santiago gather up the glasses and pad over to the dishwasher in his stupid flip flops, and you feel a sudden surge of affection for the man.

Your eyebrows jump up in delayed surprise. At what, you’re not precisely sure. At the fact he knows you well enough to understand that a mission, however small, is what you need right now? At the fact he remembers you? That should in no way surprise you, but it does.

Santiago ticks up an eyebrow in return, his hand brushing yours as he conveys a plate to you, ready to be slotted into the rack. “I haven’t forgotten you,” he promises, his voice silk, and an involuntary heat blooms through you.

You are grateful that your arm moves on autopilot to stow away the plate, your body turning away from him before you can ignite.

You are also grateful to have this small mission to focus on together. To place your two bodies back into their rightful routine. Sure, this domesticity is a far cry from what you’re used to. From any of the endless ways your bodies might have previously combined – acted as a unit. But, your heart aches as Santiago begins moving around you with ease. Effortlessly intuiting your path around the space, and slotting the path of his body around yours as you work together to get the job done.

You suppose there are some paths you never forget if you walk them enough, and the way you move around each other so fluidly exhibits your years of togetherness – of walking in the same direction – far more clearly than you might care to admit.

Your bodies remember each other, and, oh boy, do you want to test that assertion in all the ways you can think of.

Still; you don’t.

Can’t say anything for a moment, besides responding wordlessly to the brush of his skin against yours as he passes close to you.

“Better to do it now, I guess,” Santiago twitters mindlessly as he rinses a dish and stacks it. You look at him almost completely stalled, as a characteristic smirk finds its way to his full lips. “Personally, I like doing it in the morning.”

You wouldn’t know. He’d never stuck around until morning for you to find that out.

“Right,” you respond stiffly. “Always putting everything off until later.” Including you.

His face drops.

Shit. You can’t help yourself, can you?

You don’t know why you said that. Don’t know why you had to throw around more blame, just as things were softening. Just as things were beginning to feel more than a little like they used to. “Shit. I’m sorry. I…” This time, the words feel genuine.

“Yeah. No. It’s fine. I get it,” he says somewhat placidly, all things considered. Reaching for another stray glass and loading it up. “You think this is all my fault.”

You grab up a used pan and tuck it into a space. The words are so strangled in your throat that they barely come out as more than a whisper. “Well. Isn’t it?”

Santiago’s jaw writhes, tension travelling through his corded neck, his mouth a thin line. Still, he passes you the item in his hand all the same. “Agree to disagree?”

“Fine.”

You both opt to contain it, then. Not to let it erupt. To focus intently on your task and only vaguely on each other. After all, it’s far safer that way – dulling the intensity of him.

“Hey,” you try, forcing a brighter tone, which comes more easily than you might have expected. “Do you really play up the knee thing?”

“Sometimes.”

There is a beat, and you somehow can’t contain your statement. “I was never on top.”

A frown notches in his brow. “Sure you were.”

“No.” You swallow the lump in your throat as you watch Santiago rise from his hinged position, coming fully to standing,

You hold your breath for a moment, wondering where he might take this, but you are relieved as an amused spark glints in his umber eyes. “Made an effort with you, I guess.”

Fuck. You remember. His mouth on you for hours.

Aaaand… There he goes. Dragging you back in.

God, you want him to. Want him to soothe your anger. Win you over. You want that.

“Ha. What made me so special?” Shit. You hadn’t meant… you didn’t mean it like that. Still, you clock the way Santiago self-consciously scratches the nape of his neck.

His eyes glance off of yours now, like a careening, flung spark.

You try to refocus.

Knives and forks in the cutlery holder.

You let the question hang.

You let the moment breathe.

It sounds odd, maybe, for something so mundane, but doing the dishes with Santiago - or something equally domestic - has long been a secret desire of yours. When bullets and bombs hailed around you, everything heightened and extreme and horrible, you had begun to entertain dreams of normal, boring moments with him. A morning cup of coffee. Falling asleep in his arms. Doing laundry.

Peace instead of war.

You snort softly at the thought.

Now, it is the two of you who are at war.

If only your hearts could be as in sync as your bodies always were. Apparently still are. And, dammit, once again, you want to take that theory to its logical conclusion.

“So, look. What’s the deal?” Santiago asks self-effacingly, as he peels the wrapper away from the dishwasher tablet. “Are we ‘friends’ again, or what?”

“Santi. We never weren’t.” That’s not the issue, is it? Never was any question of whether you were friends. It’s that you didn’t know how to be more - not without tearing each other apart.

Santiago nods slowly, processing all of this, and his expression is so contrite that you can’t hope to dull the tide of affection for the man. You turn a bowl over and over in your hands as a distraction. “I still want to know, Santi. I want to know what you’ve got going on. When you get neck surgery. I… You’re still my best friend.” You want to reach out for him. To hold him. In years gone by you would not have hesitated to touch him - but things are different now. “I mean… right? Aren’t you?” When a lump balls in your throat, you realise it’s less of a question, more of a plea.

You can’t look at him, but in your periphery you note him moving closer. His arm extending, his broad, warm palm reaching out ever so tenderly to cup your cheek. Making you meet his gaze before he speaks. “You’re my ride or die, sweetie. Always.”

It’s a relief to hear it. So much of a relief that at least one thing is a constant that your eyes brim with tears, misting your view of him as you finally tip your gaze back up to his. You find his expression wistful at first, but then, as his thumb continues to skim back and forth across your cheek, the moment morphs.

That was always the problem, wasn’t it?

You were soldiers, then friends, then lovers. If only you could figure out what to be next. How to be all of those things at once.

So, when this heat between you is finally given a chance - instead of sparks flinging themselves into the dark - it catches, beginning to blaze.

Suddenly, there is a whole conversation happening between your bodies, without making any move. So fluent are you in the language of touch that you can even intuit his words before he speaks them. Suddenly, a whole tome is written in the fleeting moment that your eyes lock. A tome dedicated to every conceivable position your bodies might combine into. To how you might make use of every surface around you.

The way he could shunt you up against the-

-spread you open on the-

-turn you around and bend you over until-

-a collapsing of this need.

Your bodies, doing whatever they need to sync themselves back up. No longer out of rhythm.

In many ways, it would be so easy.

So easy to succumb.

In that fleeting moment, all the possibilities seem to flash through you as you contemplate what move you’re going to make. Which way you will choose to give into him.

But instead, you reach for the dishwasher door, and you push it closed. Santiago follows, standing formally beside you, hands folded in front of him as though mourning the moment you had both allowed to pass. Mourning the fact that your bodies are talking, screaming out to one another, but not one of you is prepared to listen. Not yet.

“There’s another job,” Santiago states blankly. “I found Lorea’s cash house.”

Your stomach drops. “Fuck, Pope.”

“The boys are in,” he snips back, almost defensively.

Are they? The others were meant to be done with that life too – just like you. It had barely been any time at all since they had followed you out. Started to move on with their lives in whatever way they could.

Thank God, is all you can think. Thank God you didn’t let your need collapse, because if you had, you’d be right back where you started. You’d never get out. All Santiago knows is how to walk around in circles.

“I’m out. I told you,” you reaffirm, as if in danger of being drawn back in regardless of your firm resolve. Santiago always was so very persuasive, that at times you wondered if his desire for you was anything more than a sales pitch. Fucking propaganda.

“I’m… Shit. I’m not asking you to be a part of it.”

You arc an eyebrow, trying your best not to let on that hurts you; contrary thing that you are. “Oh?”

“I’m just telling you what I’ve got going on. Like you wanted.”

“Right.” You swallow. Why did Frankie not mention this? Asshole. “Sure.”

Now that the dishes are stowed away, Santiago casually pops a couple of beers, leaning himself up against the counter. You follow his lead.

“So,” he breezes, nodding the head of his bottle at you. “I gave you something. Now you can tell me about the guy you’ve been dating.” You arc an eyebrow at him, definitely coming off as miffed that he’s found out about that. “Oh yeah,” he says smugly, with a knowing curl of his lips. “Your sister dropped you in it big time. Almost like she was trying to make me jealous or something.”

You shrug.

Well?

Did it work? Is he? Jealous?

Part of you wants him to claim you again. At least, you want him to want to. Want him to remind you in no uncertain terms of all the ways he can’t forget your body - and everything he knows how to do to it.

“He’s….” Possibilities of what you could respond with filter through your brain. He’s not even a thing. He’s none of your business. He’s what you deserve for letting me go. He’s revenge. He’s a bit of fun. He’s not someone I could make a go of it with. He’s not you. Never will be you. “…Hot.”

“Did you meet him at a wine mixer?” Santiago asks with a brash smile. “Does he listen to true crime podcasts and do ultra-marathons to prove he’s special? Take you on dates to Olive Garden?”

“That’s… ridiculously specific. Also; no.”

In truth, you know this revelation from your sister won’t even bother Santiago all that much - not on any real level. That’s because he knows it as well as you do. Knows that you’re his. At least, that you could be his, at any moment. That he could make you forget. Or remember. Whatever he wanted.

You prickle though, and he sees it. “Come on. I’m not trying to be an ass. I swear. I just-“ he bumps your arm with the back of his hand “-want to know too. What you’ve got going on.”

“Then you should ask me about my job, the house. All of that.”

He leans in, just a little. Conspiratorial almost, eyebrows shooting up. “I get all of that shit from Frankie.” So Frankie’s been selling you out too, huh? You’ll need to have words. “But… Look, he holds out on me when it comes to who’s giving you the dickin’ down these days.”

“As he should!”

Santiago chuckles, and God you’ve missed that sound.

You search his face. A gentle, genuine curiosity plastered over his features. You take a swig of beer, for some illusion of courage.

“Fine. I met him when I kicked his ass at a BJJ seminar, thank ya very much. He has tattoos. Owns a gourmet street food truck. Hangs with his two kids in his spare time.” Santiago nods solemnly, as though his own curiosity is coming back to bite him all of a sudden. As though he’s growing less and less sure that you’re his. “And it’s...” You clear your throat. Christ, there’s no subtle way to do this. “I mean. It’s still early. We haven’t even said we’re exclusive yet, you know?”

Santiago nods slowly again, processing all of this. Studying your face intently, without giving much away himself as a heat claims your cheeks. You’re not sure what you want him to do with that final piece of knowledge, exactly. Can hardly bear to think about how desperate it must come off.

Fuck. If he really cared about you, he’d let you go, wouldn’t he? But you won’t let him let you go.

Maybe you really are just as bad as one other.

“So… it’s not…” you continue, hoarsely. “I mean. It’s not serious.”

Santiago gives you a look then though. One which is desolate, eyes scrubbed clean of that perpetual, vital spark. “Don’t,” he pleads softly. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t give me hope.”

Santiago.

Why the hell not, exactly?

Why the fuck shouldn’t you give him hope? After all, there is so much of it twisting in your chest. Hope that somehow, this time, this thing you share could maybe be different. There is such an abundance of hope that it only seems fair to heap it upon him too, doesn’t it? So that he may share the burden?

“Okay. Whatever.” You set your mouth into a thin, pinched line, but there’s too much feeling bubbling up inside you to contain. “I missed you too, you know.”

Then, despite what he’d just said…

His eyes spark, glancing off yours like flint on rock, no more settled ash here; only kindling catching. “Oh you did?” he purrs in a smooth voice, like breath bellowed into a burgeoning flame – giving you heat.

You’re so fucked.

You want his heat. You want…

Fuck.

Your bodies betray yourselves, your resolve, your best intentions, magnetising ever so slowly towards one another until you are almost chest to chest, all hitching breaths and need-burdened brows. Hovering hands and blown-out pupils and parted lips, inching closer. His finger trailing up your forearm like the crackle of a licking flame, causing you to gasp from the way it burns.

He dips forward for a kiss you’ve waited months for.

Months; and yet… when it comes to it? When you finally get what you think you want, you deny it. Your head whips to the side, chin to shoulder at the last moment, leaving Santiago’s lips moments from your cheek, his breath fanning warm against your skin. It takes everything you have not to turn – to offer your mouth to his so that he might quench your desire like a cooling tide rolling over a hot, needy shore.

“Don’t…” you plead now too. Don’t, because if he starts, you will not have the strength to stop, and you’re so very tired of moving in circles.

Santiago remains in place for a moment, chest moving with gently ragged breaths, the scent of him all over you like smoke. The heat of this desire – the desire to consume you, devour you like fuel - pouring off of him in waves, and desire sinks through your middle too, tacky and hot and rolling.

“Shit,” he curses, dragging both his hands through his hair and causing waves of turmoil through his grizzled curls. He steps back from you, and you look down at where his hand had found your arm, half-expecting it to be singed.

“Fuck, Santi,” you breathe - in despair, in relief - not knowing quite how you avoided this collision, your stomach in your throat as though you have lurched in a flung vehicle, narrowly avoiding the edge.

This is the one thing you promised yourself, coming here. That you wouldn’t go there. Not again. But, despite trying, it’s quite apparent that you don’t know how to go anywhere else. Your body can barely comprehend itself without his now. After all, you’ve been like a river coursing towards him your whole life. Every sign and route and valley and peak leads you towards him. Every fear and hope of yours is mapped on his skin – hidden in the crooks and valleys of his body. At this point, you don’t know how to flow any other way. How to be anything other than a team. How to do anything other than combine.

Except; when you combine, you collide. You buried your home in his bones, piece by piece, and you can no longer tell if that was love or violence. What do you do, when your home is also your battlefield? When you’ve already done enough fighting for a lifetime? When all you want is to feel safe and at peace, and he can’t give you that?

Your eyes glance off of his again, and this time they are cool and liquid, salt tides shrouding his burnt umber eyes. “Is it always going to be like this?” he asks flatly. “We never gonna to be able to be around each other again?” He looks at you earnestly, and you realise that he’s genuinely waiting for an answer.

“It can’t. It can’t always be like this.” Fraught. Difficult. Painful. It’s not an option. So, it can’t be a possibility. You can’t be with him; but more importantly, you can’t lose him. You just can’t.

You are unsure which words Santiago swallows in the next moment, but you see them bob down his throat and into his chest. Then, you wrap your arms around yourself, feeling exposed by the pain stinging your eyes like woodsmoke.

“So. Glad you got out, huh?” Santiago needles, and you wonder, for a moment, whether a small part of him is cruel too. You wonder what he truly wants to hear, and you resent the scepticism in his voice. Resent the way his words appear to say one thing, but his true meaning is clear. Look what you’ve done.

“Yeah. I am.” What else can you even say? It’s evident that Santiago will never get down on his knees and beg you to come back. And, even if he did do so, he’d be missing the point. You can’t ever go back. You need him to follow you out, and, meanwhile, he’s still looking backward. “I know you won’t leave, Santi, but I couldn’t stay.”

He never did have a clear vision for his future, did he? He only ever had tactics. The next mission. The next pay packet. The next bust. The next lay. Short steps, and never strategic ones. Always a soldier, and never a leader, not even when it came to his own fate.

Santiago sighs deeply, scooping his palm over his stubble. “I know,” he concedes, reluctantly. “I get that. I do.” The muscles in his jaw writhe as he bites the inside of his cheek.

A truce. A ceasefire. For the moment.

How did it come to this?

“And?” you press, trying to soften your tone and getting halfway. “What about you? Are things… good?” Are they better? Better with you gone?

Santiago looks at you then like you’ve just shot him in the leg, but like he also finds it kinda funny that you did. He juts his chin towards you in challenge. “What the shit do you expect me to say, huh?”

Nothing, in truth. Nothing at all with his words. Everything with his lips. With his fingers. With the sting of his teeth on your lips. The rake of his stubble on your skin. With his touch.

For a moment, once again, his eyes are soft and bright, and you can’t help it. Can’t help the way you take a couple of steps forward, extending your palm out to cup that pretty, ridiculously shapely jaw of his, the anger you’ve held on to for months lifting like a veil.

It’s not his fault at all, is it?

You simply loved him too soon; and he loved you too late.

Still, it feels a lot like love when he settles his warm, broad hand on top of yours. For all that has gone wrong, it still feels pretty right from where you’re standing.

Your gaze dips to his full lips and God, yet again, you are only moments from caving.

Maybe this time…

Maybe if you just hope-

“-Yikes! Sexual tension much? Hot as the Sahara in here.”

You and Santiago jump apart from each other as a booming voice fills the room, your heads whipping towards the noise.

Benny Miller.

Benny Miller has arrived at the beach house, everyone. The towering man is clutching a couple of holdalls, and a rucksack is slung over his broad back. You notice his clownish, pearly grin first, and the howler of a bruise on his eye comes a close second.

“Bring it in, bitches!” he encourages, opening his arms towards the two of you, and you quickly attempt to shift gears, a part of you grateful for the sudden interruption, but the whisper of that almost kiss lingering on your lips all the same.

Still, before Santiago can succeed in reading the disappointment on your face, you practically leap into the arms of the younger Miller brother.

“Benjamin!” you squeal in delight, squeezing him tight.

“Miller,” Santiago grins, pulling the taller man in for a backslapping, neck-grasping embrace.

“Where are the other chumps at?” Benny inquires, as soon as greetings have been exchanged, already beginning to shrug off his bags and piling them on to the floor.

You nod your head in the direction of the beachside portion of the house. “Out front. Fire pit. Beers. Three dudes who ate their bodyweight in tamales. Get involved, Ben.”

“Nice.”

Benny bounds outside to say hello, insufferably energetic for this stage in the evening, and once again, you are left alone in the kitchen with Santiago.

You feel like all of the air has suddenly been sucked right out of the room. And, with nothing else for it, you press the button on the dishwasher and it whirrs into action. Hell - that damn machine is the only thing around here getting any.

“We’re done here then?” you question, and, not for the first time this weekend, you’re entirely unsure what it is you want to hear.

Santiago looks at you. Looks at you with all the knowledge of someone who knows you in every way there is to know a person. His gaze is intense – locked and loaded and so very counter to the casual way he shoves his hands into his pockets. You wither under his stare, but his earnest words are the thing which ends you. “I wanna kiss you. So bad.”

Your arms wrap tightly around your middle, as though you are searching around your skin for an exit wound; but no. Apparently, you have not yet worked him out from under your skin. Santiago is still the bullet inside your chest. His love still hurts.

Apparently, there was no clean parsing of him from you when he slammed that door and walked away, but instead, the slow bleed of metal and blood under your skin. You think, all of a sudden; I will never get you out, will I? You are a part of me. You are scar tissue. The echo of a wound.

Your eyes swim, and your burgeoning tears extinguish any fire you may feel. Any words you might say catch on hooks in your throat and never make it out at all.

Santiago has something to say though, it seems, even as his gaze drops to his own toes and your silence speaks volumes. “For the record? It’s not good at all. Without you.”

You press your palm to his chest, a gesture caught smack-bang between reaching to pull him closer and pushing him away. You shake your head lightly, your plea whispered into the tight space between you. “Santiago. Don’t.”

And then, with a deep breath, you walk away. Calm and slow, but with just as much turmoil on the inside as when he had left you behind in a frenzy, doors slamming and voices raised.

After he watches you leave, Santiago remains in the kitchen for a moment, stooped over and his hands braced, palms flat against the counter.

Then, after a quick side-eye at the dishwasher - for it daring to whirr and intrude on his quiet, contemplative melancholy – he pushes it all down. Resumes wearing his mask. The one signaling that everything is fine. That he is fine, even though everything he held most dear seems lost.

The truth is, he needs you. He loves you. He wants you.

But you don’t seem to want to hear it.

You had left, and you had also left him behind.

The truth is, it breaks his heart.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #oscar isaac #triple frontier #ride or die series #santiago garcia

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bloodwrittenballad · 10 months

Text

Satisfaction Guaranteed | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader x Jake Seresin

Summary: Maybe tipsy, tmi confessions aren’t so bad after all

Warnings: Smut, threesome, oral, pnv, swearing, mentions of drinking, readers call-sign is maze, use of the pet name baby like a lot, not proofread. wrote this on a whim. a horny whim. 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. Please, don’t be a silent reader. Feedback is highly appreciated, so are reblog. Let me know what you think! And if you would like to see more of these three! Enjoy, and happy reading ;)

You should really stop talking.

No, seriously, you need to stop talking. The more you say, the worse it gets. You’re a few drinks in and then bam! Suddenly you’ve decided to spill your guts out - not literally, thankfully - to your two best pals. Jake Seresin and Bradley Bradshaw. Two of the hottest and greatest men you knew had now heard every single thing they ever needed about your sex life. Or, well, lack there of. “Yeah and like, noooone of my exes ever wanted to go down on me. Not one! B-but I’m expected to give them head?! How unfair is that!” You hiccuped, as you dug yourself deeper into a hole.

But what was worse, was that they weren’t even stopping you. Maybe the alcohol was hindering their better judgment too? Either way, you were never going to come back from this. The shit eating smirks on their face and the looks they shared - the ones they thought you wouldn’t notice - only made you feel like more of an idiot as you finally began to rein in your pitiful rambling. “Oh, god, I totally just ruined the mood? Didn’t I?” You said in an embarrassed little squeak, face falling into your hands as you tried to hide from their piercing gaze. “Actually, Maze, I think you just heightened the mood.” Jake said, his voice low. You looked up, hands falling back down to your side as you caught Bradley’s eyes. Maybe it was the one too many drinks you consumed, or the sexual frustration that has been building up for months, but something in the way he was looking at you… fuck, it made you feel like a giddy teenager after a first date.

“Ya know, Maze, I think Hangman is right. I also think you’re right,” Rooster began. He noticed the way your eyes lingered on his face, more particularly, his lips… You gave him a look of confusion, nodding for him to continue. “It is unfair that no one’s repaid the favor of going down on you. Hell, it’s a downright shame.” Oh Christ almighty, you had to be imagining this. There was no way he was actually saying this right now. You could just die of embarrassment right now. “But I’m thinking that could change tonight, if you want it to.”

Okay what? This really, truly could not be happening. “I- Um- Huh?” You barely managed to get out, and Jake chuckled at your response. If now was the time for teasing, he’d say you looked like a fish out of water, with the way your eyes were wide and your mouth hung open as you tried to form words. But, Hangman was feeling nice, so he decided to help you out. “I think what Rooster here is trying to get at, is that he’d like to show you what you’ve been missin’ out on. I would too,” He said with a wink. Jesus fuck.

“Y-you b-both wanna…” you trailed of. “Fuck you? Yeah, darlin’. We do. Real bad, too.” As if Jake couldn’t get any cockier already, this was only feeding in to his attitude even more. “So, Maze, what do you say? How about you let Hangman and I show you how it’s done? Satisfaction guaranteed.” Rooster chimed in with a wink, and if you couldn’t feel your heart racing at a thousand miles per hour, you would’ve figured you died and gone to heaven.

“Okay,” you said. Maybe a little desperately, but hey, they offered.

And that’s how you found yourself in this moment now, with Bradley between your legs as Jake held you against his chest. His strong, tan arms around you for support as you rested your head against his shoulders and moaned out. “Fuck! Bradley, right there!” You cried out, feeling his mustache burning roughly on the soft skin of your inner thighs. It was glorious, like nothing you felt before. Well, really, it was nothing you felt before. But it definitely wasn’t like how you imagined it, or even read about. No, this was so much better. “You like that, baby? Does it feel so good, getting that pretty, needy little pussy taken care of after so long?” Jake hummed low in your ear.

“Yes! Fuck yes! So good!” Moaning out loudly, your thighs clenching around Bradley’s head. Bradley chuckled against your pussy, the sensation only bringing you closer to relief. “You gettin’ close, baby? You gonna come on my tongue?” Bradley asked, bringing his hot mouth away from your wet pussy for just a moment to ask, but still working you with his thick fingers. You nodded, the shine of the sweat on your forehead was like a beacon as he caught sight of your face and the pleasure that was painted on it.

“I’m s’close,” you managed to get out. The grip you had on Jake arms only tightened when Bradley’s mustache made contact with your clit. Dipping your head back in a moan, Jake attached himself to the skin of your neck. Licking, sucking, kissing any and every square inch he possibly could. “Come for me, baby. Come on my tongue, I know you want to.” Bradley encouraged you, his mouth still moving on you so quickly as you approached the heavenly gates of orgasmic bliss, before coming. And hard. “Fuck, shit, oh my God!” you moaned out, swears tumbling from your mouth as your body shook with your release. “That’s it, that’s our good little baby,” Jake spoke into your ear. His words of encouragement not stopping until you touched back down to earth again

And when you finally let out a heavy breath and opened your eyes, that’s when you noticed. Bradley, still sat on the edge of the bed and between your legs, was soaking wet. And the look on his face, was priceless. “Good God, baby, look at the mess you made,” Jake said in a laugh as he looked down at Bradley, who was still looking at you in complete awe. “Damn, baby,” said Rooster as he licked his lips. “I didn’t know you could do that,” you didn’t know either. You’ve never squirted before, but somehow Bradley managed to completely change your world in a matter of seconds. “I-I didn’t either,” you spoke. “That was-” you began, but the two men cut you off.

“So hot,” they said. “Yeah,” you said in a breathy laugh. “You ready for more?” Jake asked, and that’s when you could feel it. His hard on, pressing right against your lower back. “Because I still haven’t gotten my turn, and if Bradshaw can get you to react like that, you can only imagine the things that I’ll do.”

And thus, is how found yourself, yet again, being completely and totally lost in the pleasurable thralls of your two fellow aviators fucking you. Jakes cock was buried deep in you, reaching places no one had before, as Bradley sucked on your neck and toyed with your tits and clit. The room was hot and heavy, filled with moans and skin slapping skin all around as you came once again that night. Yeah, it was safe to say that satisfied was definitely guaranteed.

#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fic #hangman x reader

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sourholland · 1 month

Text

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → we are so back. here’s the official playlist for style 🩵 also there’s a dual pov moment in this ??? there’s been a few in this fic but it’s very deliberate this time and idk how to feel about it.

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language

word count → 3.3k

reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 5

After you and Joe had come close to being caught in his locker room, both of you decided it was best to make a swift exit plan that let you both make it to the parking lot unscathed and unsuspecting. You departed first, quickly turning the corner and leaving the hallway with your bag slung over your shoulder. Joe had in fact kept your panties, taunting you for a minute and motioning for you to attempt to grab them from him. Spooked by the disturbance, you only told him that he now owes you two pairs.

Joe left a few minutes after you, taking a completely different hallway out of the facility and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He asked to see you before you’d split, so the fact that he knew he was going to follow you back to your apartment had seemingly put a bit of pep in his step. You watched him cross the large parking lot, waving at you and smiling in a way that left you shaking your head and laughing. He must have changed clothes before he walked out, adorning a pair of shorts and a black jacket overtop his white hoodie.

The drive was quiet, save for the few times Joe would purposefully begin to ride the ass of your car or honk like you had done something wrong. Funny, you bit back some amusement as you let the horn blare right back at him. He was unlike any guy you had been with in that aspect, his humor was genuine and never had anything to do with making you feel bad about yourself or to poke fun. His jokes never cut deep, which was rare in your few relationships thus far.

Joe parked beside you in your unit’s garage. His Porsche most definitely stood out amongst the line of cars, sleek and spotless as if he had just taken it through the car wash. Everything about him was so clean and prim and proper, it intimidated you now more than ever. A sudden feeling of insecurity washed over you, wondering if he was silently judging you and your life. You couldn’t help gazing down at the steering wheel, thinking endlessly about how much Joe really possessed in athleticism, riches, and looks compared to your ex-boyfriends.

Suddenly his knuckle wrapped against your window, “You got mac ‘n’ cheese up there? Tell me that doesn’t sound so good right now.”

You couldn’t help laughing at him, his so-casual words through the window that you rolled down. He leaned into your car, arms folded so his chin rested on them as he perched and tilted his head to the side. He looked inside of your car now, having never seen it. His legs were so long, you noted once again as you breathed another chuckle at his stature. He merely shook his head, waiting for a response about the food.

“I think I have the little Kraft cups. I might have some of the normal boxes, it might be Velvetta, though,” you watched as he gave you an eyeroll.

“You think one of those cups is gonna sustain me? I’m insulted,” he placed a hand on his heart and finally pulled his head out of the car. He opened the car door for you, motioning for you to step out with an outstretched hand for your bag. “I was practically inhaling those things at eight. You can’t seriously be full off one.”

“Excuse me, Joe. Not all of us are..” you spoke with booming amusement and sarcasm, prepared to give a dramatic reenactment as you approached the elevator. “The one, the only Joe Burrow! Heartthrob NFL quarterback, generous philanthropist, sexiest–”

“Ah okay, I see. Someone’s got jokes,” he interrupted, smiling ear to ear. “Please, don’t stop on my accord. What about me is so sexy?”

As you crossed the threshold and began upward in the elevator, you gave him a teasing smirk and noticed just how pink his cheeks had gotten at your comments. He was still holding your bag, bouncing up and down on his heels and occasionally glancing sidelong at you while you went up. The ride was a comfortable silence, simply peering at each other when the other was not looking in a sort of high school fashion.

Joe discarded his coat as he entered your freshly unlocked apartment, murmuring something about how he was sweating. You watched him curiously, tidying up and discarding some of the random things you and the girls had strewn around the apartment. He hadn’t ever been inside, he’d only picked you up when you went out for drinks. He definitely had no intention of masking his curiosity, he walked along the walls of your living room and noted each photo and piece of decor. He picked up a frame on the TV stand, it was a moment captured on film from your study abroad trip in Australia. His eyes scanned the photograph where you and Sydney were perched on pink beach towels, smiling drunkenly and wearing floppy hats for shade.

“What’s your life like?” He asked you, not a hint of hesitation in his question. “I know you’re a cheerleader, I know you’re going to school to become a teacher. What about all the other stuff, though?”

You paused and hummed, “I feel like my life might bore in comparison to yours.”

“I highly doubt that, but tell me anyway.”

“I grew up in a pretty rural area in Massachusetts. I have an older brother, his name is Jack. My parents have been divorced for a few years, but they stuck it out until I moved out. For better or for worse,” you told him without maintaining much eye contact. “I’m really not trying to dump all of my childhood trauma on you, I promise.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about? I asked,” Joe said, reassuring you and noting how you fiddled with the strings of the knit throw blanket. “I want to know, I really do.”

His expression was genuine, his eyes serious and fixated solely on you. He had discarded his car keys and phone on a nearby countertop, giving you his full attention as you inhaled deeper and thought seriously about what you wished to tell him. He felt unreal, like something you had dreamed up and manifested into your living room. A part of you thought you should pinch yourself and look again, sure that he would have disappeared into thin air. No, you forced yourself out of the thought and made yourself see that he was just as real and tangible as you are.

“We grew up pretty poor and just getting by. It was rough, those first few years especially, but we managed and eventually my mom and dad were able to save. They got into real estate later on and then investing, I’m grateful for all of it. I worked hard in school to help with scholarships and stuff so they wouldn’t be totally responsible for putting me through college,” the words flowed without much thought and he nodded, listening intently. “They weren’t happy. I knew it long before anyone mentioned divorce, but I was still pretty wrecked. I’m grateful, though. They gave me a great work ethic, you know just watching them build a better life for our family. I wouldn’t even live here without their help.”

“I can tell you’re a hard worker,” he was assessing you in your entirety. “Are you close with them? Your family, I mean.”

You stilled for a moment, thinking intently about the question. Joe was sitting across from you, elbows braced on his knees as he leaned into the conversation. His gaze was soft, gentle even. He wasn’t looking at you with pity, however. His expression was more of a mixture of understanding and concentration, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing.

“Not so much, no,” you answered. “But the love is still there. I just have a hard time expressing it to my family, I guess. If that makes any sense at all. With my friends, it always just comes so much easier. I’ve just always felt outside myself around my family, like they know nothing about me.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“It’s just kind of how it's always been, I guess.”

Joe listened to you for ten more minutes, not protesting when you rose from the loveseat and seemed to want to change the subject to something more positive. Following you into the kitchen, he began to look through the cupboards for something to make. It didn’t take him long before finding the Kraft cups, turning around and showing you with an eye roll. He began rattling off the nutrition label, making you raise your phone to him with a hand over your mouth as you captured a short clip of his fully serious assessment.

He continued to sift through the materials of your kitchen, finding an actual box of mac ‘n’ cheese and beginning to look for your pots and pans. You silently extended a hand, letting him take the pot from you and start cooking. You walked over to the fridge, glancing around your options for drinks.

“So I have Celsius, milk, Titos, Capri Suns, and water,” you told him, cringing internally at the selection.

“What flavor Capri Sun?” He asked, stirring the food in front of him.

“Looks like… strawberry kiwi.”

“Yeah, I’ll take one of those,” he looked over his shoulder at you.

You both ate in front of the living room television, watching The Hunger Games underneath the throw blanket you had extended to him as soon as you sat down. He took it graciously, eating much faster and going back for a second helping before you’d finished even half of your bowl. You snickered softly, wondering the daily caloric intake of an NFL player and how much Joe had to eat to maintain his figure.

Once you both finished eating, he followed you into your bathroom with his bag. He took his toothpaste and toothbrush out, the set you assumed was only for practice and games. You both stood in front of the mirror, brushing silently until Joe would make a face in the mirror. He took the lid of the mouthwash you had filled up, knocking it back just as you had. He stifled a laugh while you swished, pulling his phone out and taking a picture of you with your hands on your hips, eyes narrowed at him and mouth full of mouthwash.

Joe’s cold hand slid onto your upper thigh as you settled back into the couch. He pinched softly and you whacked his arm slightly harder, causing both of you to laugh as he threw his hands up in playful defense. You let him lean in as he mouthed the word ‘truce’, only to attack your middle and put you with your back on the couch. He hovered above you, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck and lips.

“Should I go?” Joe asked, looking down at his phone and realizing how late it is.

“Do you want to go?” You asked him in one breath.

The only light illuminating his face was from the movie playing in the background. Joe’s pupils were blown, his hair falling forward as he was still above you. His body pressed a fraction of his weight on you, both of your pulses pounding. He let himself think about the question, humming lowly and taking in the visual before him once again.

“I never want to go,” he said, half-joking with a smirk. “You tell me. I have to be at the facility to watch film at eight, I’ll be gone before you wake up. It’ll be like I was never here. ”

Is that what he wants? The question wracked your brain as you sat contemplating how casual this was for him. His flattery sometimes felt so real, like more than foreplay or meaningless flirting. There was always the undertone of what was wrong with you two being tangled up in the same blanket, though. Joe couldn’t bring you on a real date, you would never be able to show anyone the video from the kitchen–why shouldn’t this be casual to him? He likes you, perhaps. But how can you expect him to want to tiptoe around each other’s jobs?

“Okay, yeah,” the words came out more breathy than you intended. “Sounds good to me.”

Joe studied your dimly lit face, “Everything alright?”

You told yourself not to be that same girl you were at the bar, the one you could only assume he viewed as a psychotic bitch. A part of you was willing yourself to shove down some of those strong feelings for him, giving him a soft smile and nodding. He relaxed a bit, letting you turn in his arms and watch the movie with your back to his chest.

It was only about ten minutes before you heard the sounds of his soft snores, one arm tucked underneath his head and the other firm around your chest. His breathing was deep and steady, occasionally pulling you into him further. After a few minutes, you grabbed your phone off of the coffee table and turned your camera front-facing, making sure the flash was off and snapping a picture to send to your group chat with the girls.

Sydney: Oh. My. GOD.

Sydney: I’m actually throwing up rn what the fuck

Sydney: LOOK HOW BIG HIS HAND IS

Lena: I’m freaking the fuck out omg

Lena: I’m so jealous

Lena: He’s so

Sydney: He’s fine as fuck

Y/N: IKR

Y/N: I think I’m obsessed

Sydney: Girl wbk that

Sydney: Be fucking for real

Y/N: I simply do not think I will be making it to class on Monday

Lena: That’s three days away

Y/N: Ugh Ik

Y/N: Last first day of classes!

Y/N: I’ll call you guys tomorrow and debrief

Both of them hearted the message, sending their goodnight texts and equally dirty messages about you and Joe sleeping together. You flipped the TV off and let yourself lean into his arms a bit further, inhaling his scent of high end cologne and mint. He held onto you protectively, caging you into his embrace and brushing his nose against your hair. You slowly let yourself drift to the sound of his breaths.

⋆------------⋆

Joe woke up around six, he felt you pressing into him and against him first. His neck was stiff, wishing he’d have made it to your bed last night. He couldn’t recall falling asleep, assuming he had knocked out while you both watched the movie. He inhaled the scent of your shampoo, closing his eyes for a few moments and allowing himself to linger between that sweet spot of sleep and consciousness.

He savored the few moments of domesticity, wondering what it would be like to wake up in bed next to the other. Everything about you was so intoxicating, he had never been much of a risk taker before. He would have never risked bringing you into the locker room if he was in a completely sane state of mind. He thought of you with such desperation and yearning that he simply couldn’t have cared less about what anyone had to say about it.

Joe knew this made him selfish, made him irresponsible, and that was the worst part. He knew and he didn’t give a shit, he couldn’t stay away from you. Not that he had really tried, but he also lacked the desire to. Being around you was bad for him, Joe thought as he watched you sleep soundlessly beside him. You cause him to completely lose control of who he is and yet he cannot seem to stay away.

Slipping out from behind you without waking you was difficult, but he managed to get out over the back of the couch and readjust the blanket to cover you. Joe walked around, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on whilst also cleaning up a bit and helping with the dishes he helped dirty. He came up with the idea to leave a note, leaving him looking around your kitchen for materials, shaking off his damp hands and pulling his sleeves back down. He found a notepad and pen easily, but stared blankly at the sheet. Is leaving a note too much? He had a hard time reading your attitude towards certain things, he had tried to get you to stay for breakfast and you flat out refused him. Perhaps it was better to adhere to what was agreed on, it would be like he was never there.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Joe sighed and set the pen down. He left quietly after brushing a hand over your head once more, shutting the door softly behind him so as not to wake you up.

⋆------------⋆

When you rolled over to grab your phone, Joe was already long gone and his spot beside you had now gone cold. Yawning, you sat up and padded to the bathroom to pee and contemplate everything that had gone on during the previous night. At first glance, you assumed Joe had tidied up the strewn pillows on the living room floor and moved your phone to the coffee table.

Once you made it into the kitchen, you realized he had washed the dishes that had been used and pulled out a sheet of paper. There was nothing written on it, pen sitting idly by as if he planned to write something for you to wake up to. Casual, you reminded yourself. Both of you had agreed on casual.

The run you went on this morning was particularly long, headphones blaring as you pushed yourself further and further away from your complex. Thoughts of cheerleading and Joe weighed on your mind heavily, his head between your thighs the night before most certainly did not make it any easier for you to focus on controlling your breathing. Casual felt like a punishment, especially in this case. He couldn’t have felt a fraction of how you did, your thoughts occupied constantly with the sight of his unruly hair and large hands on your body. He was making you crazy, the way he touched you was genuinely driving you into insanity. Much less the fact that you risked your spot on the team each time you answered at his beck and call.

Your phone began to ring, Lena’s caller ID popping up. You answered, sweat coating you like a layer of oil.

“Don’t freak out.”

“Freak out?” I heaved, taking a long sip of water. “Why would I freak out?”

“There’s a picture of you and Joe on Twitter. You can’t see your face at all and you’re at a red light, all you can see is him and some of your hair,” she informed you, cautiously attempting to keep your anxiety at bay. “It’s days old, but it popped up on my timeline just now and it has a few thousand likes.”

She sent you a screenshot, fingers shaking as you opened up your texts and tapped on the picture. It was a photo from the first night you’d gone to get food, a sneaky snapshot at a redlight when your window was half down. Thankfully, only your shoulders and the back of your head was visible under the light that made the color of your hair hard to detect. Joe was looking over at you, smiling with one hand occupied by the half-gone milkshake.

Feeling like the wind was knocked out of you, you silently copied the image and sent it to Joe.

“I feel like I should end things with him officially,” was all you said to Lena. “He wants casual and I’m not sure this is worth casual.”

lmk to be added to the taglist!

taglist - @humannoodlesoup @nikkisimps @teasandcrumpets @chmpgnnlace @hummusxx @rivivie @madsblogsstuff @nngkay @raeofsunshine629 @siutforjjmaybank @alternativemadchen @ryiamarie @ohreggieboy @coldheartedmar @obsessed-fan-alert @buckystwilight @dessxoxsworld @manic-pixie-bitch2 @hallecarey1 @heyitskay-21 @joselyn001 @stylesyourmine @toterry @countryday @adventuremood @blu3jeanbaby @sriusun @mikeyspinkcup @kittyhorror777 @riverdalexvixens @hornyforherbert @tomriddlesenchantress @nhlbabes @unsaidjaelinrose @joselyn001 @littlelou22 @harryweeniee

#joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow angst #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x yn #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow fic #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow fluff

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kairiscorner · 9 months

Note

four words

punk!miguel and reader

yes please 😋

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

punk!miguel x gn!reader headcanons

punk!miguel has two moods: being an annoying, cocky bastard and being an intimidating, more serious bastard.

punk!miguel loves towering over you. he enjoys smirking down at you and making you feel just how much smaller you are compared to him–it's not the feeling of being bigger than you that he likes, he craves to hear you cuss at him, and just seeing you get all furious at his teasing.

punk!miguel enjoys seeing you get all frustrated when he calls you those nicknames that just make you feel so... tiny when around him, like he's not taking you as seriously as he says he does: 'baby doll', 'mi chiquito/a', and of course...

"you're late to the action, my sweetest little gremlin." he cooed in a deep voice as he sauntered over to you all cocky, ripping his mask off from his head and shaking his unkempt hair. he smirked down at you and chuckled lowly as he bent down to your level. "what's the matter... pequeño/a? not too happy to see me?" he asked you as he placed his hand on your waist, feeling you squirm away from him and hearing you release those deliciously sweet little grumbles of frustration from your itty bitty mouth that sure knew how to complain a lot about him being a 'more powerful, capable spider person than you'... that can manage to piss you off beyond all comprehension.

"this was supposed to be a joint mission, o'hara." you remind him as miguel beat webbing up the anomaly and hoisting their unconscious self onto his shoulder, opening a portal up to HQ quickly as he turns to look at you with a shrug; his cocky smirk not leaving his face. "hey, chiquito/a, relax. it's not my fault your stubby little legs make you so slow that you gotta rely on a big, capable guy like me to help you out. ain't that right, my itsy, bitsy little spider?" he teases you as you huff, wanting to strangle him right now, but knowing that wouldn't solve anything, you kept your hands and anger to yourself. he chuckled, messing up your hair as he tousled it up with his free hand. "how adorable, see you back at HQ. that is, if you can keep up this time, cariño/a."

punk!miguel definitely plays music, preferably punk rock, but he prefers keeping that part of himself to himself. he's not embarrassed or anything, he's in fact, very confident in his music; the thing is, he wants to be better than he is already. he wants to make you stop and listen to his music, swoon to what he plays; and if he can't do that... then you won't get to see him play until you admit his talent's good enough to win you over.

punk!miguel likes teaching you how to play the electric guitar—he can play a bunch of other instruments too, though, like the acoustic guitar and such, but you were insistent on learning the electric guitar—and he loves feeling your soft, dainty little fingers underneath his longer, more calloused ones.

punk!miguel finds it so hot whenever you act all angry and take things in your own hands; he cheers for you whenever you silence everyone to alleviate the chaos, unironically.

punk!miguel would not hesitate going out, acting as your partner to protect you from people who think you're easy or soft. he hates it when people get that impression of you, but he's actually honored to get to know (and fall for) the real, raw you; one of the strongest spider persons in all of HQ, the most loving yet tough people he's ever met, and the only person who makes his heart beat for real, making him feel something other than it being a biological response.

"hey, now..." his low voice rumbled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he glared down at a few people who kept clamoring around you, trying to get your attention when you clearly weren't interested in any of them. "what do you assholes what with my chiquito/a, hmm?" he asked them in a deep voice as he moved in front of you, shielding you from them. he knew you could protect yourself from all kinds of anomalies and villains, but when it came to confrontation, you sometimes struggled telling strangers to go away when you weren't behind that mask you donned on. luckily for you... miguel's always eager to step up to protect you.

"what? not gonna say anything?" he asked them as he towered over them, feeling you cling on to his jacket, making him slightly flustered, but still seething with rage at how these people couldn't even comprehend what personal space and boundaries were. as they left one by one, he turned back to you with a softer expression, holding your hand that clung to his jacket. he smiled all sweetly and chuckled. "pretty good, no? that's the only good thing about looking so scary, you get a bodyguard as well as someone to help you through all the multiverse's endless caca storms." he says as you move closer to him, letting go of his jacket to wrap him in a hug, catching him by surprise. "what's all this now?" "thank you..." you whispered as you clung on to him tighter, making him choke on his words. he cleared his throat as he felt an even worse fluster afflict him, making him smile wider.

he covered his smile up with his hand and pat your back with his other free hand. "you're... welcome. all the time, you're welcome. but all this is only for you, though." he said, adding that last bit in a rushed whisper so you wouldn't hear it clearly. you wondered what he uttered at the end of that statement, but you didn't mind. you always felt so safe around miguel, no matter how rough, stubborn, intimidating, or rebellious he seemed; he was just a big, cuddly, spiky teddy bear that was eager to hug you back... and do more things with in private (though he wasn't opposed to doing it in private, you two had autonomy over your own bodies. so if you'd... let him... maybe...)

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv fluff #atsv fanfiction #spiderverse across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse fanfiction

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babyhatesreality · 10 months

Note

Can you please write a stucky x little!reader? Where reader sneaks her game into bed, stays up all night but the daddies don’t know and then is cranky and tired all day? The daddies found out of course and help put her down for a nap with jellybean? And you can as a small punishment if you want

Absolutely, my darling @youre-amazing-say-it. Thank you for being so supportive and patient. I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to find words again, and I thank you for your kindness while I made you wait.

Level Up

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG themes (SSC), f!reader, reader is named (but name scarcely used), language, pet names, stern Daddy/Papa, affection and teasing between married couple, stubborn/cranky/bratty baby, small tantrum, tired baby, soft punishment, fluffity fluff fluff fluff. Also I have no idea about video games so I'm going off what I know from y'all, sorry if it's wrong.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

"I told you so."

"Yeah, but-"

"I TOLD you this was a bad idea."

Bucky rolled his eyes at his husband. "Yeah, yeah. I know. You don't have to keep reminding me."

"Well, apparently I do, because this kind of stuff keeps happening."

"Can we just fry the big fish right now and argue about whose fault it is later?"

"There's no arguing, because it's your fault."

"Fine. It's my fault. There, you happy? Can you PLEASE help me now?"

"Yup."

Steve immediately got up from his desk and made his way to the office door where Bucky was standing, exasperated. Bucky looked at him incredulously. "Seriously?" he said as Steve approached him. "All I had to do was say it was my fault, and I could have saved myself all the hassle of arguing with you?"

"Should've listened to your commanding officer in the first place, soldier," Steve teased him, before kissing him gently to show that he was over his frustration. He laughed as Bucky groaned into his mouth. The pair made their way to your room.

"Alright, kiddo, time to turn off the game," Steve said, going in with all guns blazing from the moment he stepped through your door. He knew he couldn't play this one soft- he had to lay it all on the table immediately. You'd been hyper-fixated on your new game for three days now, somehow convincing Bucky to turn your original one-hour-of-play-a-day into at least 4. Steve knew this would happen, but decided to let the chips fall and maybe teach Bucky a little lesson about overindulging you in the process.

You were hunched over your game on your bed, your little tired eyes scanning and your thumbs flying like your life depended on it. You didn't like what Papa was saying, and so in a wild act of rebellion, you chose to ignore it. Until you felt Papa walk right up next to your bed, standing tall and firm. He said in his low Papa voice, "I know you heard me, Katie." You knew better than to play dumb now. You gulped and looked up.

"But Papa, I almost done wif dis part," you whined, holding your game up just a bit. "Five more minutes? Pweeeeeease?"

"You said that five minutes ago, Trouble," Bucky cut in. "It's time for bed. You heard me, you heard Papa. Turn it off, now." Instead of obeying immediately, like you usually did, you let out an angry squawk and kicked your feet onto the top of your bed. Normally, you weren't such a little brat, but when you were frustrated and tired, you could be a little monster.

"Alright, that's it," Steve said sternly. "Give me the game, right now."

"But Papa!"

"No. No more 'but Papa's. Give me the game or you're in big trouble, little girl." He held his hand out, with that don't-push-it look on his face. With a pout and a huff, you saved your progress and turned off the game, slapping it into your Papa's hand, before crossing your arms tightly and looking away to the wall.

"Kaitlyn," Bucky said in that dangerous tone. Uh-oh. When your full name came out, you were teetering on the verge of MAJOR trouble. You sighed and dropped your arms, looking forlornly at your blankets. "That's better. I'm not happy about all this attitude that you've had, ever since you got this game. Maybe you should spend some time without it, little girl."

Your head shot up, panic in your eyes. "No, no Daddy! Pwease! I sowwy." You didn't want your precious new toy taken away so soon, and you knew that you really had been pretty naughty today. "Won't be bad no more, okay? I be good," you pleaded with him, looking at Papa for support. They both sighed heavily, then looked back at you.

"Alright, princess, you can have your game back tomorrow morning, but it's bedtime now. Any more arguments and no game tomorrow. Understood?" Steve said, laying down the law as he put your game up on your highest shelf. You nodded vigorously.

"Understood, Papa!"

"Good girl. Let's get you ready for bed."

About twenty minutes later, you were snuggled into your own bed, Jellybean at your side, as Daddy finished off his story. Your eyelids were heavy and you let them shut as both Daddy and Papa kissed your forehead, tucked the blankets gently around you, and tiptoed out. You were nearly in dreamland...

Except you kept seeing your game played out behind your eyelids. If you just walked there...and moved that....then that would mean...YES! Your eyes flew open. You knew how to get past the part you had just been on! Your mischievous eyes slunk over to the top shelf where your game was....just one more level and then you'd totally go right to sleep....Petey had shown you how to crawl up the walls and all these shelves made for great hand holds....

*******************************************

The next morning, Steve slipped in to your room. He began gently carding his fingers through your hair to calmly wake you up, but you didn't move. Surprised, he began rubbing circles on your back. "Good morning baby," he said in a soft sing-song voice. "Time for little girls to get up so they can play."

You groggily came to, and instead of the usual burst of energy that accompanied most mornings, you grumbled and rolled away from him, tucking your head underneath the blanket. He let out a soft laugh that was more shock than anything else- this wasn't like you at all.

"Looks like the baby bunny is not ready to wake up, huh?" You mumbled something unintelligible in response. "I'll let you sleep for a few more minutes, but then it's time to get up, okay?" You didn't answer as you were already asleep again.

Twenty minutes later, Steve was back, trying not to have a panic attack. He had the no-touch thermometer ready, convinced that you were sick; which he did not deal well with. He gently woke you up again, and when you whined and rolled over, he took your temperature. His guts all returned to their original locations in relief, and he gently scooped you out of bed. You yowled your protests, but Steve just cuddled you into his arms and carried you to the breakfast table.

"Morning, Sunshine!" Bucky said as Steve brought you in. But you simply growled at him, refusing to open your eyes.

"Yeah, this 'sunshine' is a little rainy this morning," Steve joked, sitting down at the table and keeping you cradled in his lap. "She doesn't have a fever-"

"I told you she didn't."

"- SO I'm not sure what's wrong."

"Well," Bucky said, sauntering into the adjoining dining area and kissing the top of your head. "If my world-famous fruit and yogurt breakfast doesn't chase the clouds away, then nothing will." Bucky set the bowl down in front of you and Steve.

Normally, you loved when Bucky made you a fruit and yogurt bowl. He drizzled honey and granola on it, and made the blueberries into a smiley face for you. But you fussed and turned your face away, desperately trying to fall back asleep in Steve's arms.

"C'mon baby, time for breakfast," Steve said, jostling you a bit to try to wake you up.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" you whined as loud as you could, squirming to get out of his grasp. He, of course, wasn't letting you down anywhere.

"Is your tummy hurting?" Steve asked, trying to keep calm and figure out what the hell was going on with you. You just kept whimpering and pushing away from him, using the precious little energy you had left.

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances, having a silent conversation to determine what was happening, or what was upsetting you. Finally realizing that you weren't able to get out of Papa's clutches, you gave up and began with the crocodile tears, going completely limp in an effort to just get him to put you down so you could crawl under the table and go back to sleep.

Steve, however, stood up, keeping you snuggled in his strong arms, and began walking around the living room, gently patting you, trying so hard to get you to calm down.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky muttered, following the two of you into the living room anxiously.

"I don't know," Steve murmured back, grateful that Bucky had super soldier hearing to make out his words over your theatrical sobbing. "It's like she's throwing a tantrum- but leveled up."

Something clicked in Bucky's brain at that moment, and without another word, he turned and went into your room. He didn't have to dig under your blankets for long before he found your game. He sighed heavily. Of course you had scaled the shelves on the wall to get your game and stayed up all night playing it. He rolled his eyes. He was never going to hear the end of this one.

He walked back into the room, holding the game out in front of him. Steve got it the second he saw the electronic device, giving his husband a know-it-all look, before turning his attention back to you.

"Katie Cat," he murmured softly. "Are you tired because you played your game late last night after bed time?"

That stopped the crocodile tears in an instant. You were so tired that you just nodded, not caring if you were in trouble, and hoping that this would get you put back in bed. Steve sighed, then chuckled, then carried you back into your room. He tucked you back in, Jellybean in the crook of your arm, while Bucky changed the settings on your windows to block out light. You were out again before they pulled the door shut.

Bucky and Steve walked back into the dining room. Without missing a beat, Bucky put your game up on top of the fridge and went to the pantry to hide your step stool. Steve put your breakfast back into the fridge, and made two cups of coffee. Bucky came back after hiding your step stool to find Steve with the mugs ready and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"So when she gets up, we're having a talk with her about staying in bed and doing what she's told, and why it's important to not get obsessed with games," Bucky said, avoiding the thing he knew Steve was grinning about.

"And?" Steve prompted.

"And she's not getting her game back for at least a week. Maybe two."

"And?"

"And when she does get it back, she is only allowed to play for one hour a day, that's it. I won't let her sweet talk me into more."

"And?"

Bucky sighed heavily. "And...you told me so."

"There we go," Steve said, stepping forward and taking his grumpy husband into his arms and giving him a cheeky kiss.

#daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve #daddy steve x little reader #daddy!steve rogers #daddy!steve rogers x little #daddy stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky x little reader

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tojjist · 10 months

Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁 - 𝗝. 𝗘𝗴𝗼

jinpachi ego x f! reader

tags: pwp, unintentional exhibitionism, semi-public sex, ego being an asshole, degradation, reverse cowgirl (kinda), mentions of masturbation (third person(s)), dacryphilia if you squint, marking/bruising, humiliation, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, slight objectification of reader.

note: this is my first ever fully-written smut so uh yeah forgive my lack of description and experience. also kinda rushed write it at like 3am in maybe an hour. Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! minors, ageless & blank blogs dni

“ego-san! eguhh—!”

your hips thrust; up, down. up, down. moving against his length. ego’s long fingers were digging into the soft skin of your hips, forcing harsher movement as your walls swallowed him whole.

“such a fucking slut,” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “taking my cock like a champ, that’s how you like it, huh? wanna get fucked ‘til ya can’t see?”

you don’t respond to his harsh words, too focused on the pleasure. your hips kept thrusting but you weren’t doing all the work; ego knew you wouldn’t be able to move on your own when he’s balls deep inside you.

but, jinpachi ego doesn’t take well to being ignored. if he asks you a question he expects you to respond.

one of his hands curls in your hair, harshly fisting it as he stops helping you move. naturally, your movements become sloppy and sleazy over his cock, still attempting to enjoy his length despite the way he’s gripping your hair and turning your face, forcing you to look at him.

“answer, sweerheart. wanna hear my little doll’s response, hm? don’t leave me waiting, whore.”

it was so astonishing how easily his vocabulary swapped. to him you were but a little fucktoy for him to enjoy. he didn’t have to make you feel good, which he did. you at least owe him an answer.

“y-yes, egoh-san,” you blabbered, barely able to keep your sanity together.

it is embarrassing; you’re a strong woman of a high position, yet the highest position you can get with this man is riding his cock like a slut. how he knew all your weaknesses you don’t know. jinpachi ego is a wonder and as much as you’d like to explore him, it’s clear he’s the only one getting any exploring here. you’re only there to serve, to drool and moan as he fucks you stupid.

but unbeknownst to either of you, it is broadcasted all over the blue lock.

you knew having sex right in front of the the controls was a bad idea. god, you begged him so much to just drop it and have sex somewhere else.

but ego insisted to do something he’s seen in some porno, sitting on his chair while you’re on top of him. the leather chair was whining under you two as you moved. you would have been worried about it breaking if you weren’t too busy getting fucked.

and now you’re both paying for ego’s selfishness. it was you, huffing and moaning, your breasts jiggling up and down as he had lifted the shirt off them. one every screen of every room. everyone was watching now.

and the boys? oh, they were devouring the broadcast. how could they not when your soft begs echo through almost every room of the pentagon shaped building?

seriously, these controls should be more complicated. yet one wrong move is all it took you and now 300 young men are watching you sob.

“ego-san—! ‘m close! close!!”

your tears weren’t many, but the ones that fell were fat, blurring your eyesight and arousing jinpachi oh so much.

“feels good-“ he groaned slightly at the way your hips move faster, teeth clenching agaist each other. “feels good, slut? ya like my c-cock in you— fuck-“

the way your face reddened and your moans became even more pitched was definitely the finishing line for most of the boys, watching as one of ego’s fingers rubbed at your pretty nipple, squeezing your breast then pinching the darker skin in the middle.

with a final sob, a final thrust, and a final breath, your release came. your head jerked back as your spine arched, moaning especially loud now. ego groaned as your gummy walls tightened around him, teeth clamping against the plush skin of your neck. he made sure to leave his mark on you; dark bruises on your neck as he bites so hard it almost draws blood.

one would be a fool to think that jinpachi was helping you ride out your orgasm. his name is ego. no one matters, not even you. he was only chasing his own release, wearing you out until his cock twitched under the pleasureful pressure, shooting white paint across the walls of your tight cunt. the lewd noises of skin slapping against each other remained loud, echoing across the monitor room as jinpachi rocked your hips back and forth until he couldn’t anymore.

“get up.”

“what?” you squeak innocently ant his harsh demand. you were barely just catching your breath.

“ya heard me, don’t make me say it again. get up.”

if there is one thing you learnt from being ego’s personal stress reliever, it’s to obey. no questions asked. he demands, you answer.

and you are one good lap dog. you allow him to mush and shape you however he likes because, for some reason, it felt so fucking good.

you didn’t have to be told another time, twice is a lot. you stand up without question, back facing jinpachi as you wait. was it anticipation or dread pooling in your stomach? you weren’t sure.

“bend over.”

his words were absolute. but this time you went rigid, not moving an inch.

“did you not hear me?” ��ego-san..”

ego stands up, hand finding your head roughly as he begins to push it down. “when i tell you to bend over you fucking-“

he noticed it too.

there was a small red light, coming on and off, indicating that this is in fact getting recorded.

“shit…”

#Jinpachi ego #Ego jinpachi #Syd.writes #Syd.nsf #Blue lock #Blue lock smut #Ego x reader #Ego smut #Jinpachi ego smut #Bllk #Bllk x reader #Bllk x you #Bllk smut #Ego x reader smut #Blue lock x reader smut

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bunnys-lil-hideout · 3 months

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hi this is basically my part 2 of my post about being a small selfship blog

that post was met with a good amount of small blogs being happy about what i had written, meanwhile there was a handful of blogs that still expressed being upset that they were so small despite the work they'd put into their stuff.

i should preface by saying, even though i've had posts get over 300+ notes, and i have over 100+ followers, im really not a big blog, and i do seriously mean that.

yes, my posts about selfship scenarios and positivity do get a good amount of notes, and lots of the tags are very positive and fun to read. but if you do look through my blog, you'll notice those are the only posts that get any attention. all my posts about my personal selfships barely get notes, i barely get any asks even when doing ask games, and i've even tried participating in those "reblog with your f/o and i'll assign them this!" posts and i dont think i've ever gotten a reply.

and yeah, the last one at least has bothered me a bit, and i wish i couldve been part of the fun, but i'll be honest— when i made my selfship blog, i literally made it to be my own corner where i can go gushy gooey crazy over my fictional men. and those posts i made about general selfshipping scenarios and such, those were me just throwing ideas at the walls so i had a place to put them and maybe a few people could see it and feel a lil better. i never intend for my stuff to get a lot of attention because honestly, i'm used to it, so my expectations are always extremely low, and i'm rarely ever upset about it not working out.

but i know for some people, that's not the same for them, and that's completely fair. they work hard on what they make, either through writing, through artwork, comics, animation, even just putting down their thoughts. its natural to have that part of you that wants to be seen and appreciated for what you made, even if it is self-indulgent and not a lot of people will relate to it.

and i am sorry to all of you who are in that boat, feeling like what you made isnt good enough because not many noticed it, that you don't have people asking about your f/os or s/is, that anything you made with love isn't getting that same response. i know it's hard, and honestly i wish i knew what i could say that would help you to feel better. but please just know that you're really not alone, and just because you aren't seen doesn't mean you aren't good enough for this community.

honestly the best advice i could try to give is that you still have a corner for where you can freely express your love for the characters that bring you happiness, and even if you don't have much of an audience, i think it's worth remembering that your f/os are your #1 supporters through and through, no matter what type of attention you get. they're happy that you love to talk about them, draw them, gush about them, even if no one sees it. they're happy that you've dedicated a space just about them.

and even if you don't get much notice out of it, please remember that you still deserve a place to feel safe and free.

it's going to be okay. i promise. please take care of yourself. its what your f/os would want, i'm sure.

#the bun talks #f/o community #self ship community #self-ship community #selfship community #f/o #selfship #self ship #self-ship #safeship #safeshipping #selfshipping #self shipping #self-shipping #sorry if this is messy my tummy hurts #and i really hope this comes across as positive and gentle i reallt tried hard with the wording

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larsisfrommars · 3 months

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So I fully intend on going onto Larian’s forums and fighting for more Wyll content to pressure them to close the content gap for Wyll within the next patch or two.

I know there are obvious problems like:

His lack of agency when it comes to what happens to Ulder

The lack of seriousness with which his pact with Mizora is taken

“Well met” being his only greeting because it’s bugged

Lack of responsiveness to being in his hometown because it’s bugged

Not really having any really strong opinions unless you commit genocide in act one.

Being the only romance option with no sexual content and only two major romance cutscenes where other main companions get at least 3 (sans Karlach, who we should ALSO advocate for!)

Is there anything else I’m forgetting that should be addressed and would it benefit me to romance Wyll/play Wyll as an origin beforehand to get a first hand POV on the issues with his writing and to brainstorm suggestions for more content/alternatives for problem areas? Am I missing anything major?

I’d love any advice on how to go about this as I’ve never written a complaint like this before and I’m white so there might be some problematic stuff I didn’t even pick up on. I’d love some insight from BIPOC fans who WANT to give it. Putting all the responsibility on BG3 fans of color is the exact OPPOSITE of what I’m trying to do!

If you wanna reblog with any points you wanna make feel free, I’m sure it’ll help other people in similar straights. If you don’t want any drama just DM me no pressure. But I wanna make sure I’m going about this as respectfully and well thought out as possible!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #racism #Larian #Larian studios #Larian critical #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #duke ravengard #ulder ravengard #mizora #BG3 mizora #Wyll x Tav #Wyll x durge

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resowrites · 1 year

Text

Daredevil - oneshot.

Summary: Henry’s overprotectiveness drives his pregnant wife crazy…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1765

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Daredevil - oneshot.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Henry's voice startled her and she almost lost her footing. "Careful, you're going to fall!" He dashed forwards, catching her as she teetered backward from the ladder.

"For God's sake! I almost fell off thanks to you!" Henry quickly helped her down, taking the large box from her hands as he did so.

"Well, what on earth are you doing?! You know you're not supposed to be doing any heavy lifting!" She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, I had to get a start on clearing my office or we won't be able to make it into a nursery--"

"Then why didn't you just call me for help? I said I'd do it at the weekend, there's no need for you to be carrying heavy stuff or going up and down ladders--"

"Henry, you promised not to start becoming a fusspot--"

"How am I being a fusspot when my pregnant wife is scaling heights while juggling a load of boxes?!"

"So I'm not meant to move for the rest of my pregnancy am I?!" He folded his arms.

"Preferably, yes!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous! I'm allowed to carry on as I would normally, you know women can even do weight training throughout their pregnancies?" Henry's eyes went wide.

"You're not planning on doing that, are you?!"

"Well, maybe. After all… it's better to be in good shape ready for the birth."

"You're are joking? You're not seriously going to lift weights in the gym?!"

"Well, I thought having a personal trainer come here would be better. Just let me know when you're not using the weights and I'll schedule the session." But he was in no mood for her teasing.

"You mean to tell me you're going to have some random guy come over and help you work out?!" She smirked.

"Oh, so now it's about the trainer? What if it's a woman instead?" Henry sighed and led her by the hand into their bedroom. Carefully, he sat her down on the edge of the bed and took a seat beside her.

"Ollie, I know you're a headstrong person but I must admit, I'm getting worried about how that's showing up in your pregnancy--"

"Aren't you being a tad dramatic? I mean, I haven't been advised to take any precautions so far--"

"And what if that changes? Will you follow the advice you're given?"

"Of course! Why are you making me sound like some irresponsible lunatic?"

"Well, I don't know about irresponsible…" She smiled.

"I'm serious, what risks do you think I've been taking?"

"Well, take a couple of nights ago. You got in the bath despite barely being able to keep your eyes open!"

"So? What does that have to do with anything?" Henry sighed and took her hand in his.

"Ollie, you have to accept that our lives are changing. And there will be some things you just can't do anymore." She jumped to her feet and angrily crossed her arms.

"Henry, I'm not an idiot and I would appreciate it if you stopped treating me like one--" she turned to leave only for him to catch her by the sleeve.

"Whoa, there. I neither said nor implied any such thing. But what would have happened if you'd fallen asleep in the bath Ollie? I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you or the baby…" Henry's eyes seemed to glaze over temporarily and she felt bad about being so defensive.

"Oh, Henry. I had no idea you were feeling so anxious…" She sat back down on the bed, taking his hand once again.

"I'm not anxious!"

"Look, I'm worried about the responsibility of becoming a parent as well--"

"I'm not worried, either. More… concerned. I mean, there's only so much I can do to protect you both."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's my job as a husband and father to keep you both safe. And if I can't even do that before the baby gets here… it hardly bodes well for the future."

"But Henry you do protect us. Every day, in fact. You make sure I'm eating well, and getting enough rest. I can't even leave the house without you holding my hand or walking between me and the road!"

"And what if that's not enough? I won't always be around…"

"Well, I'm sure we'll manage--"

But it won't be easy for them to have such a handsome, famous father!"

"What do your looks have to do with anything?! And I'm not a china plate Henry and neither is the baby. There's going to be accidents, injuries… times when we're sick. It's just a part of life." Henry looked down, shifting slightly from one foot to the other.

"I know, I know. But just promise me you'll take it easy. At least until you're past the twelve-week mark?" She looked into his pleading eyes and could see it was useless trying to disagree.

"Fine, but only if you promise to try and relax a little. Who knows what the future will bring but I want us to both enjoy this pregnancy. Before we know it, it'll all be over."

"You're right. It's just tough feeling so powerless…" An idea suddenly popped into her head.

"Well, why don't we get a fetal doppler? That way we can listen to the baby's heartbeat at home."

"Can we really do that?!" She nodded eagerly.

"From twelve weeks onwards, yeah. And you're also welcome to check in with as many times as you want each day, no matter where you are or what you're doing." Henry visibly relaxed and placed his hands gently on his stomach.

"Do you also promise to tell me the minute anything feels off? Even if you're not entirely sure what it is?"

"Of course, darling. I know it's just as important for you to have that information as it is for me. But please try and relax, there's no use worrying over what we can't control. Now give me a hand with these boxes, once they're up in the loft I can start moving the furniture out of my office as well." He jumped to his feet and came between her and the door.

"Oh no you don't! You're not lifting any more boxes. And if you want things moved then you'll have to ask me."

"But then how will I turn the loft into a workout room?" Henry's mouth fell open. "I'm kidding! You are far too easy to wind up these days. Anyway, I thought you didn't like it when I bossed you about?"

"Well, you just said to stop worrying about things we can't change…" She bopped him on the arm. "Ow! I think somebody's overdue for a nap, don't you?" As if on queue, she yawned.

"Henry, if I wanted a nap, I'd take one…" She yawned again and Henry just shook his head.

"Into bed now, madam. And if you're good I'll bring your dinner up later as well."

"Are you going to cut it into little squares and give me a fruit shoot as well?" He smirked as he made his way around the bed and pulled back the covers.

"Ollie, you can argue with me all you like, it's great practise for when we have an actual toddler…" She grabbed a pillow off the bed and chucked it straight at Henry.

"The only toddler here is you, it's why you're so good at antagonising me all the bloody time!" He patted her spot on the bed and she reluctantly sank into the sheets. Henry then lifted up her feet and pulled them around so she was laying straight. "What's next, are you going to sing me to sleep?"

"What's that? I can't hear you over the sound of being right--"

"How are you right?! I told you, I'm not a bit sleepy." But her heavy eyes betrayed her. He then settled in beside her, rubbing the base of her stomach the way he always did to help her to sleep.

"Come on mama, time for beddy-byes…"

"Hey, do you think the baby sleeps when I'm asleep?"

"…They'll be awake more than that." Though her eyes were closed she thwacked Henry on the chest.

"You know, just for that, I think I'll do a motorbike jump over ten London buses at Wembley Stadium…"

"Have you been reading my Evel Knieval biography?"

"Well I had to find something to do between marathon training and shotput practise…" He rolled his eyes.

"Well don't go getting any ideas… you're a danger to yourself as it is."

"Oh stop it, I was actually reading it to get inspiration…"

"For what?!"

"Baby names."

"You are not naming our baby after some mad stunt performer!"

"But Knievel Cavill sounds lovely!"

"Go to bed missy, before I launch you out the bloody window!" She curled up closer to Henry.

"Ooh, now you're talking. I like a bit of danger. Maybe we should put together a knife-throwing act…"

"Don't bloody tempt me. Now close your eyes and think calm thoughts, our baby needs all the help they can get."

"I will not! I don't want them turning into a nerd or I'll come home to find the two of you painting those bloody figures!"

"Warhammer, woman! And far better they do that than be some hooligan!" She giggled. "Can you imagine them having a goth phase like you did?"

"I was never a goth!"

"You had dreadlocks! And listened to Megadeath!"

"Oh God, what if they get the worst of both of us?!"

"What, like loving air guitar as well as online player games?"

"Exactly, throw in your third nipple and they'll be an outcast!"

"It wasn't a third nipple, it was a cyst--"

"Oh Henry, I can't bare the thought of them being teased--"

"They won't be! Besides, with the kind of school they'll be going to, there'll be much better targets."

"I suppose… do you really think our lives will change that much?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"But what about us?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what if we change? I like the person I am now and it took a long time to get here…"

"Darling, I promise you will be just as uncool when the baby's here as you are now. Now go to go to sleep, you can't even keep your eyes open."

"Fine, but keep rubbing my tummy…"

"Will do, after all the more love our child feels the less likely they're turn to heavy metal." She kicked him in the shin.

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