#this can one definitely be a oneshot when i clean it up
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Xiantober Day 7 - Biker!Xian except here Wei Ying is a high schooler who gets a bicycle so he can woo Lan Zhan by giving him rides home.
Now an expanded oneshot!!
~
Wei Ying spends months saving up his lunch money, stealing tiny morsels of food off his friends' plates until Lan Zhan finally takes pity on him and brings double portions of his lunch to share.
This is all perfectly well and good, and Wei Ying is absolutely not affected by Lan Zhan's seemingly infinite kindness and his cute little blushing red ears every lunch period when he silently offers Wei Ying the red lunch box that matches his own blue one perfectly and has to be brand new since Lan Zhan has never owned anything that wasn't white, blue, or grey.
No, Wei Ying cannot let this get to him, as impossibly adorable as it is. Because he has a plan in mind and it has to be foolproof.
It's cleverly titled: Wei Ying's Ten Step Plan to Make Lan Zhan Realizes He's In Love With Me.
(Maybe he needs a shorter title)
The point is, he'd come up with this plan with careful consideration for each step.
He started off easy with step 1; get Lan Zhan to sit with him for ten minutes without getting up and running away in an angry huff.
Sure it wasn't easy persay in that Lan Zhan at first seemed to despise being even in the same vicinity as Wei Ying, but! Now, Lan Zhan can sit with him for a whole lunch period without even the smallest angry twitch in his jaw. Sometimes Lan Zhan even waits for him outside of class so they can walk together to their usual table outside.
All in all, Operation WY10SPTMLZRHILWM (still too long of a title, hm) is going swimmingly.
He's made it all the way to step 6, which coincidentally is the most expensive on his list (Except the expensive roses and suit and maybe aquarium he's going to need to rent for their first date but he's letting himself be realistic and wait to think about that one)
But step 6 is extremely important because in this step, Wei Ying is going to show Lan Zhan that Wei Ying is responsible and can provide for his impossibly perfect boyfriend.
This is especially tricky because Lan Zhan is actually the most prepared person in the entire world and never needs anything. He even carries an extra pair of socks in his backpack. And another pair in his locker in case Wei Ying needs one!
There is one way Wei Ying can provide for Lan Zhan though.
You see, Lan Zhan walks to school. It's not a terrible distance, but it's at least twenty minutes each way.
And Wei Ying, well he may not have a car like some of their more well-off classmates, but he at least knows how to ride a bicycle.
Madam Yu had refused to get him one when he'd asked and Jiang Cheng refused to share "for your gross flirting ugh", so Wei Ying just starved himself for a bit and he now has enough for a second-hand bike of his own!
(Plus there's the added benefit of eating food prepared by
Lan Zhan, which pretty much sends Wei Ying's heart rocketing to space every time. We'll call that Step 5.5.)
He sneaks out of class early one day to buy the bike from the shop, carefully evading Uncle Four's questions about why he isn't at school. This is more important!
Lan Zhan has orchestra today, and so he has some extra time to get used to his bike but not enough if he wants to look super cool. Plus Lan Zhan will be carrying his violin with him which means Wei Ying will be extra helpful by helping transport both of them home safely.
He's had his eye on this bike for a long while now. It's one that was sold to the shop and in need of repairs and that Uncle Four had been fixing slowly with Wei Ying hovering with a watchful eye.
It's body is painted bright red with golden accents that maybe remind Wei Ying of someones eyes but okay can anyone blame him?
He'd even managed to find a little basket to attach to the front with Uncle Four, who throws in a loud bell for free (which is going to be perfect for annoying Jiang Cheng with heh).
With his sick new ride secured, Wei Ying heads out.
He is, admittedly, a little bit rusty with his biking skills. It's been a few years after all, but hey with a little practice he'll be fine! He only almost hit two old ladies, and he said sorry and they didn't seem too mad, so!
He does get a bit caught up in trying to get used to the thing and remember skills he'd learned years ago (whoever said you never really forget how to ride a bike was WRONG), which means he's late for the end of extra curriculars.
He gets to the school gates as his classmates spill out, some of them greeting him and trying to ask him about his bike, but he brushes them away, distracted.
He can't spot Lan Zhan's familiar silky braid at all and his heart starts to sinks, until he hears the daintiest little throat clearing cough ever coming from behind him.
It is, of course, Lan Zhan, and Wei Ying is struck as he always is by the way Lan Zhan glows in the setting sun, his eyes reflecting the light and practically mesmerizing enough Wei Ying forgets how to speak.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan's perfect voice calls out, and gosh Wei Ying could listen to him say his name forever. "You were not at practice."
Oh yeah, Wei Ying had to ditch his orchestra practice too. It's okay, all in the name of love!
"Aha, yeah. sorry! I had to go grab something, but check this out! Wat do you think?"
Lan Zhan's gaze travels up and down the bike, and Wei Ying is about to preen when instead of Lan Zhan giving him a look of pure adoration his expression remains completely neutral.
Instead, he hands Wei Ying his case with his flute, and ah, apparently he forgot that too.
So much for responsible...
Wei Ying, feeling a bit dejected, doesn't say anything even as Lan Zhan waits for a while, before he starts to turn and walk off. That's when Wei Ying kicks himself and the bike stand into high gear and chases after him.
"Lan Zhan! Wait! Let me give you a ride. As, um, thanks."
Lan Zhan blinks at him and Wei Ying's bike (He should give it name, hm. He doesn't know. Whatever...actually...), as if trying to assess if that's actually a good idea (Which, hey! Don't say that about Whatever!)
He quirks a devastating eyebrow as if to say "Are you sure?", to which Wei Ying responds by taking both their instrument cases and tucking them into the basket where they just barely fit. Lan Zhan looks concerned, but Wei Ying doesn't let him say anything, instead tugging on his arm so he can come over to the back and sit behind Wei Ying.
Wei Ying initially imagined Lan Zhan perched on the handlebars in front of him, but Lan Zhan had another growth spurt over the summer making him taller (which, swoon!) so Wei Ying settled for having Uncle Four install in extra large seat so they could share.
This also comes with the benefit of having Lan Zhan wrap his arms around his waist, which makes Wei Ying feel a bit queasy with excitement but is very appealing at all.
Except when Lan Zhan takes a tentative seat, he doesn't grab Wei Ying's waist at all. Instead, he holds onto the bottom of the seat, as if that makes for a better holder and Wei Ying can't stop himself from pouting and saying "Hmph..."
"Wei Ying?"
He shakes it off and says, "Nothing!" before pushing on the pedals to get them in motion.
It is... more challenging than he thought it'd be. When he was planning this out, he'd pictured it like those dramas where the handsome male lead took the quirky female leading a leisurely bike ride through next to a beach.
In reality, he's huffing and puffing trying to cart the weight of two grown boys. Up a hill.
Yeah it's way harder than he'd thought.
"Wei Ying, are you sure you're okay?"
Wei Ying really hopes his laugh doesn't come out as crazed as he thinks it does. "Yeah, totally! Just, uh, gimmie, a mo, mnent."
It's gonna be at least ten minutes uphill like this, and Wei Ying is starting to feel nervous, especially when they go over a bump that jostles their instruments and Lan Zhan has to reach over and take hold of their straps.
As he does, his hand brushes against Wei Ying's sweaty grip and making him startle, losing control of the bike so it careens off the road.
Luckily, with Lan Zhan's incredible athletic reflexes, he's able to grab Wei Ying, along with their instruments, and get them off the bike safely...before it crashes into a tree.
Wei Ying stands there stunned, holding the back of his hands behind his head as he stares at the culmination of months of careful saving, dented in the front with a wheel that may be in need of replacement.
When Wei Ying doesn't say anything or move, Lan Zhan approaches the tree in his place. He lifts the bike away, revealing that yup, that's a dent.
Naturally the basket falls off too, of course.
Wei Ying crouches down on the ground, dropping his head into his hands and releasing a groan that makes some of the birds nearby fly away.
He wants to laugh. He wants to cry. He kind of wishes he'd been the one to crash into a tree instead.
He settles, apparently for a string of incredulous hysterical giggles. They must be concerning enough that Lan Zhan crouches down in front of him.
Wei Ying makes the mistake of looking up to see Lan Zhan's adorable face scrunched up with concern and his braid sliding off his shoulders and just looking so cute, and he buries his head again and lets out a groan that's even louder than the first.
"Wei Ying... are you alright?"
"Me? Alright? Ha!" Yup, he definitely sounds crazed now. "I just spent months of money i've been saving on a brand new bike that I broke not even a full day in and with nothing left to fix it! And! I crash it with you on the bike which means I almost hurt you, and that would have been awful! And you didn't even put your hands around my waist like in the dramas!"
"Why would I hold your waist like in the dramas?"
"Because that's what all the love interests do when their boyfriend is giving them a bike ride!" he wails, not entirely paying attention to his words.
Lan Zhan is, however. "...Boyfriend?"
Wei Ying stiffens, plays the last few seconds again in his head, and buries his head in his arms and mumbles, "Shit....you weren't supposed to hear that."
Lan Zhan doesn't say anything, which is very good because Wei Ying has decided he's going to stay right here and never get up again and maybe if he tries hard enough turn into a stone.
But Lan Zhan won't leave him to his misery, apparently. Ugh, why did he have to fall for such a decent guy?
"Wei Ying. Whose boyfriend?"
Deciding it's too late to change anything and that he might as well get this over with so he can dig his own grave, Wei Ying comes clean.
"No boyfriend. At least it wasn't supposed to be, yet." He's finding the rocks on the ground very interesting right now. Shiny. "It was...part of my ten step plan."
"...Ten step plan for what?"
Wei Ying mumbles eloquently into the sleeve of his sweater, "To get you to like me..."
There, that's it. He's finished. It's a good thing he didn't spend any time worrying about that name anyways.
"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan...doesn't sound mad or disgusted.
Wei Ying feels something grab onto his arm and pull it away from his face, realizing at the last minute that it's Lan Zhan who's doing the touching and pulling.
He finally gets a look at his expression and it's, wow, it's intense. The most serious he's ever seen Lan Zhan look. It feels like his gaze will melt through him.
And his ears are a screaming bright red.
Lan Zhan says, as if his words are the most important thing he'll every say, "Boyfriends."
Wei Ying blinks at him. "...Huh?"
Lan Zhan nods. "Mn. Boyfriends, yes, us. We should be boyfriends."
The hysterical laughter comes back, but it's tinged this time by a fluttery feeling of hope that makes Wei Ying feel like he might float away. "Lan Zhan? Are you sure? Do you know what that means?"
Lan Zhan moves his grip on Wei Ying's arm so that he can gold his hand and takes ahold of Wei Ying's other hand as well. "Yes. It means that I want to be Wei Ying's boyfriend and he wants to be mine."
Wei Ying's lets out a squeal that's practically a screech and it's only thanks to Lan Zhan's secure grip that he hasn't fallen onto the ground yet.
"So, does that mean you like? Like, like me, like me??"
Lan Zhan's eyes are sparkling. "Mn, I like Wei Ying. Like him, like him."
And then, just to make absolute sure, he bridges the little gap between them and kisses Wei Ying's smile, sweeter than anything could ever be.
After they've finished and decided they're both very good at kissing, if they say so in their limited experience, Lan Zhan helps Wei Ying walk his bike back to the shop, holding both their bags in his grip.
(His boyfriend is so strong, and wow! Boyfriend! Ah! So much swoon!!)
"So I didn't need my ten step plan after all! But I worked so hard on coming up with it!" He shows Lan Zhan the plan he'd written on his phone.
Lan Zhan read through it carefully before saying, "Wei Ying, I've loved you since Step 0." Then he leans forwards and kisses the stunned look off Wei Ying's face, the corners of his own mouth lifting in a dazzling small smile in return.
It turns out they won't need the expensive aquarium date after all. Hm, though, if Wei Ying starts saving up now maybe he'll have enough for their one year anniversary...
(and then WY saves up enough to fix his bike by helping U4 out since he already knows anyways and LZ continues to make sure his bf is fed and not skipping any meals the end)
#ask me when the last time i rode a bike was guys. it was many many years thats for sure#also hm im sensing a pattern with how often i make wwx crash his vehicles#this can one definitely be a oneshot when i clean it up#have i mentioned how much i love teenage messy wangxian#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#mdzs fanfiction#wei wuxian#the untamed#lan wangji#wangxian#xiantober#mdzs musings#bushy writing
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We’re supposed to be eating breakfast
older!steve x fem!reader an AIRWIY oneshot
summary: You wake up after your first sleep over at Steve’s house feeling bold.
wc: 3.1k
warnings: 18+ older!steve, smut, p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, mentions of past drinking, reader is wearing Steve’s baseball jersey but it’s not really described how it fits on readers body, no real descriptions of readers body.
authors note: this took me over a month to write with everything going on in my personal life, so I’m excited to finally give it to you. thank you all for your patience and encouragement to keep coming back on here every day despite me not writing as much as I used to and to keep me opening my word docs. this one was spurred my @palmtreesx3 brilliant mind and an idea that’s haunted me day and night. This takes place in the All I Really Want Is You universe, but can be read as a stand alone. Just know you’re wearing Steve’s personalized cubs jersey. :)
The harsh sounds of the coffee grinder is what wakes you up, but the golden rays of morning sunshine that leaks through the cracks in the blinds is what gets your eyes to open. Slow soft blinks, with fluttering lashes and brain still fuzzy from the kind of sleep that makes you temporarily forget what year it is, you need a moment to recognize the unfamiliar, much nicer surroundings.
You were in Steve’s room.
A smile you can’t contain spreads wide across your face, butterfly wings tickling at your rib cage. Stretching your still sleeping limbs, your body melts into the soft cushions of his mattress. The feathers that fill his pillows contour to your head perfectly, and the memories of the ways he had you pressed into it resurface, skin igniting with the ghost of his hands on your curves. Biting your bottom lip, the kind of nerves that you haven’t had since the Fourth of July make themselves known again, having never spent a morning with him at his home.
Rolling over, your face hits the cotton of his pillowcase that you’re not surprised is cold. Shamelessly you inhale the cedar and spice that still lingers on it, and the faint ache between your thighs, along with the clinks of glass you hear from his sink, reminds you that he’s just down stairs. It takes a little bit of willpower to leave the cozy cocoon you’ve found yourself in but the need to see him over powers the comfort of his duvet that feels like just the right amount of weight against your body.
Shuffling out of the covers, your bare feet hit the cold hard wood of his floors, a shiver crawling up your spine that you tell yourself is from the chill of the winter air that seeps through his unsealed windows, definitely not your nerves catching a glimpse of your naked body in his dresser mirror. The same mirror you’d seen him in almost five months ago.
Padding across his bedroom you wonder if he can hear your steps as you search for any sign of your clothes that had been haphazardly thrown around after an old bottle of red wine. The clean white color of his jersey catches in your gaze, the blue bold lettering that spells out his last name has your thighs pressing at the memory of your second date as it sits folded on top of his dresser.
The thought of how good he looked with it stretched across his broad shoulders, and the top two buttons undone, teasing the chest hair that your nails dragged through last night makes your skin warm. The praises he whispered in hot merlot against your lips, your neck, and between your legs is what gives you the confidence you need to slip it on instead.
The stairs creak under each step, but the popping grease of the bacon that fills his house with the smell of maple lets you go undetected. Familiar voices of who you’re learning are sportscasters, spill out from the small speaker on his phone that you know is propped up on the little plastic holder he always sets it on when he charges it. He mumbles something in response to the commentary under his breath, and you hear the beeping of the oven telling him it’s finished preheating.
Your cheeks hurt from how high they push up when you realize Steve’s making you breakfast.
A little shy from his affections already, your fingers wrap around the wood frame of the entryway with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. With his back to you, it gives you a perfect view of the way his white cotton undershirt stretches tight over his shoulder blades that move with every flick of his wrist, forearms flexing as he whisks whatever is in the bowl in front of him. Black sweats sit low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of his boxer briefs underneath, the font across the top of his waist band says Burberry, making your palms sweat. A personal favorite pair.
He turns his head to look at a replay of a game he missed in favor of spending time with you on his phone screen, still completely unaware of your presence. The new angle reveals the silver glasses he wore a few weeks ago in his office, dark chestnut and peppered hair sticking out wild at the ends, a mess you know was made by your hands.
“Seriously? Keep him on the bench.” He grumbles, shaking his head before bringing his attention back to the bowl.
You watch him for a few seconds longer, but his butt jiggling with the force of his whisking makes a giggle slip past your lips blowing your cover. He jumps at the noise no matter how sweet it is, meeting your eyes from over his shoulder. Steve gives you a smile that you’re learning is only reserved for you and sometimes Eddie, punching the air out of your lungs. Watching the way it only continues to grow across his stubble covered face makes your heart swell even more.
It’s only when his gaze finally lands on the only thing you’re wearing that the gold shimmering inside his eyes darken, a starless night lingering where the bottom hem of his jersey sits at the very tops of your thighs.
“Jesus honey, look at you.” The metal whisk hits the glass of the bowl with a loud clink as he turns around to really drink you in, “good morning to me.”
“I hope this is okay,” your voice comes out smaller than intended, suddenly self conscious you might have overstepped despite the way he watches you take your first steps into the kitchen like he wants to eat you alive.
“Okay?” His huffs out a breath like he’s wrecked, long fingers coming up to scratch at his jaw, “I’m afraid you’re not allowed to wear anything else in my house ever again.”
You giggle again, and you swear you hear him groan because of it.
“I think we might be able to arrange something, a deal, an agreement of some sort.” you smirk, tapping your nails along the smooth black marble of his kitchen island, giving your hips a little extra sway with your slow steps.
Both his palms curve around the counter behind him as he leans back, chest puffing while he licks his full pink lips. They pull up into a lopsided grin, a hungry gaze roaming freely as you come to a stop right in front of him. His confidence only falters a little when he has to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, but the gesture only makes your heart swell especially when the tops of his ears redden.
You lean against the island with a smile that tells him you’re up to no good. Heat from the oven and the man across from you warms your legs against the chill that bounces off all the glass and stone in his kitchen. Electricity sparks in the space between your bodies making the tips of your fingers and toes buzz, your pulse jumping when he reaches a big hand out for you.
“Just a little bit too far for me still baby,” He wiggles his fingers at you making you smile shyly before you slip your hand into his palm, your eyes glaze over watching it disappear in his grasp.
His gentle tug makes you squeal, hitting his chest with a soft thump, he grins down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Wrapping an arm around you to keep you from leaving, he lets go of your hand to cup the side of your face. The pad of his thumb traces the length of your cheek bone, and he smells just his pillow. Your hands find themselves tangled into the cotton of his shirt, leaning deeper into his touch. It makes the playfulness that dances in the chestnut of his eyes turn soft with something lovesick.
“Good morning handsome,” you say in a content sigh, and the hand that's spread across your back starts to work a path up your spine pulling the fabric of his jersey with it.
“I could really get used to this you know,” He hums, dipping his head down so the tip of his nose runs up the length of yours, mint and coffee on his breath “waking up to you.”
Your stomach flips at his words, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when you feel the cool breeze hit where your underwear should be.
“Oh yeah? What about Bandit?” You tease leaning closer, letting your top lip catch his bottom one.
Steve snorts a little, reminded of his dog who he knows is soaking up the sun outside, and the palm on your back squeezes you even closer.
“Are you kidding me? We’re obsessed with you over here honey.” The whites of his teeth show a little before they nip at your pout. He takes advantage of the gasp he earns, closing the gap completely in the kind of kiss that doesn’t give you any time to catch your breath before he’s licking at your bottom lip.
Your fingers untangle themselves from his shirt, and find a new home to get lost in the locks at the nap of his neck. Tongues meet in the middle with eager enthusiasm, and your front teeth hit as you push up on your tippy toes on the search for more. A deep groan vibrates from his chest, and his palm starts working its way down the dip of your back. When he’s met with the bare swell of your ass as he reaches the bottom hem of his jersey, you feel him kick up in his sweatpants.
“Tough girl.” He says your nickname like he's scolding you, leaving open mouthed kisses up your jaw, nipping at your earlobe before whispering with the kind of gravel in his voice that makes the inside of your thighs sticky. “We’re supposed to be eating breakfast.”
You hardly register him turning the oven off beside you.
“Who says -“ your sentence is cut off by a gasp when two thick fingers trace up your slick lips with ease, the pads of them pressing down on your bundle of nerves just long enough to make you whine with shaky knees.
“Who says what huh?” He whispers against the sensitive spot behind your ear, rubbing small circles on your clit with pointed pressure, obsessed with the way your jaw goes slack, and your eyebrows pinch together because of it.
“Who says we can’t do both?” You manage to get out with fluttering lashes, as he spreads you apart.
“You’re right, I don’t think breakfast is gonna be sweet enough for me.” He tuts, letting his middle finger push just a knuckle into your already greedy walls, and the soft moan that he gets from you has him leaking in his sweats. “You gonna help me with that, honey?”
Too lost in his teasing all you manage is a nod and a breathy ‘mmhmm’ looking up at him with big glassy eyes. He lets his lips ghost over yours, with a smirk tugging at the corners of them before spinning you around. Your palms land back on the cool marble of the kitchen island while both his hands wrap themselves firmly around the soft dough of your hips keeping his Jersey rucked up with them. He pulls your ass flush with his hips, letting you feel the hard length of him that begs to be released from the fleece confines of his pants against the ache in your core.
“This is what you wanted when you came down here lookin’ like this huh?” He asks with a low voice, hooking his thumbs under the bottom of his jersey. Lifting it higher up your back, he grinds against you while his eyes drink in all the soft dips of all your curves.
“Maybe,” you giggle a little breathy looking back over your shoulder at him with half lidded eyes.
His smile steals all the warm light from the room as he looks down at you with a cocked brow.
“I was trying to wait till after breakfast, which was hard waking up to you naked in my bed.” He can’t stop his heavy gaze from wandering to his last name covering the top of your back, unlocking something primal and possessive inside of him that he thought he’d lost forever. He wants you to leave it on, he’ll get it dry cleaned. “But honey, I can’t keep my hands off of you lookin’ like this.”
His palm feels heavy as it slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing at the fat with strong fingers spreading you apart a little before shoving his sweatpants half way down his hairy thighs. With hot cheeks, you flutter around nothing when the thickness of his cock springs free, standing at attention just for you. Somersaults in your stomach as you watch his tight grip pump himself a few times. Your hips wiggle in anticipation, whining when he teases more, gliding his tip through your slick, a small moan spilling from between your lips when he catches your clit.
“Always so needy for me,” he groans with a hint of disbelief, “fuck, what’d I do to deserve you?”
Steve doesn’t waste anymore time, slowly pushing in and the feeling of your walls wrapping around him while your body tries to accommodate the stretch has him chanting your name under his breath. Half way in, he regrips your hips a little rougher than before. His cock twitches watching your back bow, making his last name shine against the light while your nails scratch at the cool marble when he bottoms out.
Legs shaking, still sensitive from the night before, his hold on you tightens. You keen at the feeling of his thumbs rubbing small circles into your soft skin giving you time to adjust. It doesn’t take long for the initial sting subside, giving you the strength to rock your hips a little, a breathy sigh escaping you when it feels good.
“Yeah?” He hums, meeting your hips with his own hitting that spot that makes your toes curl.
“Uh huh” You manage to utter as he pulls almost all the way out, a moan of his name long and drawn out bounces off the walls when he pushes back in letting you feel every inch.
“That’s my girl,” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and it makes you want to turn around and see it.
Your eyes meet from over your shoulder again as he starts to roll his hips, finding the perfect pace. The sound of skin slapping fills the quiet space between moans every time your ass jiggles from the force of it. That strand falls messily over his forehead when he looks down at you, brows pinching together and jaw going slack like seeing your face only intensified everything he was feeling. He holds your stare, and the snap of his hips starts to get rougher. Burying himself deep focusing on that spot, the one he’s only ever been able to find.
“Oh, oh- Steve. Right there -shit - oh my god.” Your head falls between your shoulders, when he starts to barely pull out anymore. The tip of him making your eyelashes flutter as he reaches the spot that had you screaming his name last night, over and over again.
His eyes wander the expanse of your back, keeping his pace while his hands slowly start to slide up your sides, pushing his jersey with it. He wants to see more of you, but his hips stutter hearing the noises he’s getting out of you with his last name plastered across your hunched shoulders.
“You look so good - shiiit, like this baby. My name on your back, letting me bend you over in my kitchen while I cook you breakfast.” He babbles as your walls start to flutter, already dangerously close to falling over the ledge, your body threatening to take him with you. “Wanna do this all the time, please, let me do this all the time, honey.”
“Whatever, whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want, I’m - oh fuck, I’m yours.” Your words break off in a moan when he starts to circle his hips at the same time you push yours back and he holds you there, repeating the motion.
“Yeah? You’re mine?” Steve grunts, cock twitching at the thought of filling you up, and for the first time in over a decade he feels the need to mark what’s his in the most primal way he knows. The thought of you round with his kid brings a new kind of intensity to the way he starts to fuck you, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer. “Tell me again.”
“Mmmhmm, always yours.” You whine, feeling yourself reaching the edge. Steve leans forward, somehow going deeper. Long thick fingers find their way between your thighs, where the two of you connect and he starts rubbing messy circles on your clit, pushing you off the cliff.
You flutter and squeeze around him hard enough to almost push him out, but he continues rutting his hips fighting against it, white spots explode behind your lids, his name falling out of your mouth broken in a gasp and a shudder.
“That’s it, fuck, that’s it.” He groans, watching the way your forehead hits the cold marble with another tremor that makes his cock twitch. “Gonna cum baby, let me cum inside, need it, please.”
He can make out the nod of your head, and with the little strength you have left, you push yourself further back encouraging him more. He knows you're on the pill, he’s seen you take it, but right now in the heat of it all, a small part of him hopes you missed a day. He blames the blue letters on his Jersey staring him right in the face, or the way you coat his cock with the remains of what he did to you every time you suck him right back in.
He pushes himself deep enough to make you fall forward a little, a low groan rumbling deep from his chest as he spills hot inside of you the rock of his hips slowing down as he falls apart. His forehead hits your back, with one last lazy thrust, and you can feel the heat of his breath as he pants to catch his breath. You wish the fabric of his jersey wasn’t so thick when he plants a kiss between your shoulder blades, before slowly pulling himself back up.
“Yeah, it’s official. This is absolutely the only thing you’re allowed to wear here.”
#my writing#all i really want is you#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader smut
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Hazbin Hotel crew x Reader: general fluff hcs
A/n: 100+ follower special !!
I’ve been doing a lot of headcanons lately so I pinky promise there’ll be some kind of oneshot coming soon 🙏
Warnings: None !! Just some good old fashioned fluff :3
Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌
‧₊˚✧ Alastor ✧˚₊‧
📻𖤐 When Alastor forms a close bond with you (and I’ve mentioned this before), he’d want to spend more time with you. Even if that’s just sitting in silence together and reading your own separate books
📻𖤐 Who knows? Maybe he’d let you lean against him, head on his shoulder, as he reads to you?
📻𖤐 This guys primary love language is quality time for sure. A close second perhaps acts of service.
📻𖤐 Biggest mamas boy ever…. But I’m sure we all knew that already
📻𖤐 LOVES to go on walks with you, especially during the afternoon or at night.
📻𖤐 Would link your arm with his and chat with you as you went on your daily stroll together… you’re not quite sure when it became a routine but it did.
📻𖤐 Huuuggeee story teller
📻𖤐 100% laughs at dad jokes and will also make them from time to time
📻𖤐 Always winning every single IDGAF war because he genuinely, wholeheartedly, just doesn’t give two shits 💀💀
📻𖤐 Can’t swim. I don’t know how to explain why I think this but I just KNOW its true
📻𖤐 Freezes like a deer in headlights (quite literally) when you shine a bright enough light at him
‧₊˚✧ Angel Dust ✧˚₊‧
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Angel would be the absolute BEST at giving out hugs oh my goddd, he’s got six arms for a reason, baby !
🕸️ᥫ᭡ I feel like he’d have fun dancing !! (I mean “Loser, Baby” was enough evidence for me)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Competitive as fuck, UNO would actually be so fun with him 😭 (gets so genuinely excited when he wins too, gloating about it and everything like he just won the lottery)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Biggest shoplifter ever and most of the time it’s not even because he can’t afford it, he just does it for fun.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Smells realllyyy good all the time, he’s got the best perfumes ever
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Spa-days/Self-care days quickly become a Saturday night thing for you two once you become one of his besties. And I’m talking the whole shabang like face masks, candles lit and snack tray out as he paints your nails for you 💕
🕸️ᥫ᭡ It’s something Angel genuinely looks forward to as well (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄⩊ᵒ̴̶̷᷅)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Primary love language is most likely physical touch, we’ve all seen how touchy he can get 🤞
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Getting to know his real name and getting to call him by it means he trusts you a lot, he doesn’t give that privilege out to just anybody.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ On a less serious note, he’s definitely a huge show off 💀💀
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Amazing at doing makeup, will do your makeup if you asked him to (might accidentally poke you in the eye or something though lmfaoo)
‧₊˚✧ Husker ✧˚₊‧
🍺🃁 Needs glasses and HAS them but just doesn’t wear them for whatever reason. He looks good in them though !!
🍺🃁 Cheats in any card game ever. Wins 9/10 against you because of that reason (he’s also a gambler so that’s a big factor as well obviously)
🍺🃁 Bros the type of guy to call you “doll” and “baby”
🍺🃁 Primary love language?? quality time 🙏 🙏acts of service and physical touch are both tied for second place (but you only ever really get the physical touch one if you’re his s/o)
🍺🃁 Again, we all saw “Loser, Baby” this mf can DANCE and he enjoys it too
🍺🃁 Jazz is one of Huskers favourite music genres for sure
🍺🃁 You two don’t really have a routine hangout type thing but he does enjoy it when you come around to the bar to just hang out with him while he cleans and whatnot :3
🍺🃁 Trust, you will be given a specialized nickname just for you once he considers you a close friend of his.
🍺🃁 He’s a great listener but gives very blunt advice, doesn’t sugarcoat shit if you ask him for his opinion on something.
🍺🃁 Weirdly caught up with mental health stuff, like he knows a lot about it
🍺🃁 Poor Husker does NOT like the cat noises he makes but he literally cannot control them 😭😭 (believe me, he’s tried)
‧₊˚✧ Vaggie ✧˚₊‧
🗡️☪︎ Vaggie is NOT a morning person, usually sleeps in until around noon
🗡️☪︎ Would have good fashion taste
🗡️☪︎ Vaggie is also a very competitive UNO player, probably ends up yelling at Alastor for making her pick up all those “pick up four” cards when everyone plays together (yes, he looks smug as fuck while doing it and yes he was saving them just for her 💀💀)
🗡️☪︎ Has beef with almost all of the guys at the hotel but Husker is chill for the most part
🗡️☪︎ Adding onto that last one, it doesn’t really take much for a man to piss her off tbh (she’s so real for this)
🗡️☪︎ Would spar with you if you asked and gets really into it too !! She’s careful not to actually hurt you though and it’s a great way of bonding with her (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
🗡️☪︎ Verrryyyyy jealous girl, remember when Emily took Charlie’s hands in the heaven episode?? (The look on her face made me giggle)
🗡️☪︎ Hates pickles. She just looks like she’d be a pickle hater
🗡️☪︎ Primary love language is words of affirmation
‧₊˚✧ Charlie ✧˚₊‧
⭐️☀︎ Charlie is infact a morning person and wakes up at the crack of dawn everyday for zero reason whatsoever 💀
⭐️☀︎ She does her absolute best to include everyone in every activity going on, she doesn’t ever want anybody in the hotel to feel excluded
⭐️☀︎ Biggest shipper EVER. You ever told her you have a crush on someone here?? Oh god..
⭐️☀︎ She’ll silently fan girl from a distance whenever you and your crush are together to the point Vaggie has to drag her away
⭐️☀︎ Charlie can be a little bit overwhelming at times but her happiness is suppeerrr contagious
⭐️☀︎ The best way to spend time and bond with her?? Literally just offer to do anything with her and she’ll do it, I don’t think she’s too picky
⭐️☀︎ Learnt some Spanish from Vaggie and tries to use it with her to be all romantic but her pronunciations are fucked up (She’s trying her hardest guys okay 😞🙏)
⭐️☀︎ Totally asked Vaggie one time as a pick up line if she fell from heaven and she broke out into a sweat (poor girl)
⭐️☀︎ Primary love language is words of affirmation. quality time is somewhere up there too though
⭐️☀︎ Will break out into song a lot and it’s kinda funny to watch
‧₊˚✧ Niffty ✧˚₊‧
🧼𐙚 Acts a lot like a hyperactive toddler on crack. Has zero chill and it’s pretty rare to see her actually calm
🧼𐙚 I think Niffty lowkey has stage freight, like we all see how she just automatically freezes up when a camera is on (I mean it’s happened twice in the show already)
🧼𐙚 Takes a lot after Alastor, sees him as some sort of older brother figure as well 😞🩵
🧼𐙚 When playing UNO, she’d fucking EAT the cards so she’d win. Deadass just nom nom nom that shit
🧼𐙚 She’s a big giggler, she’ll laugh and giggle at almost everything so it’s not hard to get her to do so
🧼𐙚 She’d probably really enjoy it if you let her just sit with you for a while and braid your hair (But she’d steal some for her “collection” in the process)
🧼𐙚 I’m actually not too sure what Nifftys love language would even be? Perhaps acts of service (she is a maid, after all)
🧼𐙚 Okay 99% sure this is actually canon but she’s a hardcore germophobe, can’t handle when things are cluttered or a mess.
🧼𐙚 Has a collection of cleaning supplies in her room
+ Bonus !!
‧₊˚✧ Vox ✧˚₊‧
📺☆ Whenever Vox is sleeping or thinking really hard about something, the voxtek symbol will bounce around on his screen like the DVD logo thing
📺☆ Not very big on pda, he has an image to uphold, after all. (But he would enjoy affection in private though)
📺☆ Not above watching you through whatever technology you have, he spies on you a lot 💀💀
📺☆ Also guys…… stop pretending Vox isn’t a whiny little bitch, because he is (trust me y’all, read some of @bigfatbimbo’s stuff)
Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/headcanons/writing without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ Scatteredskittles
#asks open#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel x reader#x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#alastor x reader#alastor#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel comfort#angel dust x reader#angel dust fluff#angel dust headcanons#husker headcanons#husker x reader#charlie morningstar#charlie morningstar headcanons#vaggie headcanons#vaggie#vox x reader#vox headcanons#Niffty headcanons
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Levi x Drunk! Reader (oneshot)
Safe With You
Thanks for the request ❤️
Levi is sitting with Hanji and Mike in the mess hall, having some relaxing nighttime tea and chatting amongst themselves.
Hanji takes note of Levi’s sour mood as you decided to chaperone your gang of brats at the market instead of having your nightly tea routine with him.
“Where’s your little service dog?” Levi asks Hanji with a cross of his arms.
Hanji laughs. “Don’t call Moblit that! He’s sleeping. He’s had a long day.”
Mike snorts and takes a bite of his pastry. “A long day dealing with you.”
Levi smirks and gives Mike a nod of approval when Jean and Connie walk through the main door, arguing between themselves. The two young men freeze when they make eye contact with their squad leaders.
“Captain! You’re still awake!” Connie blurts out, rubbing the back of his head nervously.
Levi’s face stays deadpanned. “Am I not supposed to be?”
Jean chuckles through clenched teeth, “No it’s just that-“
Before he can finish, Mikasa walks passed them with you thrown across her shoulder.
Hanji immediately stands up as she sees her best friend unmoving. “What happened?!”
Armin and Eren walk behind Mikasa to help her lower you on the bench, letting you lay your head on the table.
Mike scowls as he takes in a big whiff of the air near you. “Definitely drunk.”
“Why the hell is she drunk?” Levi glares as he shakes your shoulder to get you to wake up.
Sasha gags. “I wouldn’t do that. She already threw up on me…twice.”
Armin decides to be the one to speak up and give their captain the story. “Well, a vendor was selling wine and offered for her to taste some. One turned into two, two turned into three…and so on…”
Levi grabs his cravat from around his neck to clean the drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. “And none of you decided to stop her?”
“Y/N never takes a break and it looked like she was enjoying it. Besides, we don’t drink, so we didn’t know wine can do this.” Eren tries to defend him and his friends even though he knows punishment will come anyway.
Mike stifles back a laugh. “Don’t be too hard on them, Captain. Y/N’s always been a lightweight.”
Hanji shrugs in agreement. “Yeah, that part is true. I haven’t seen her this drunk in a really long time though.”
Everyone stops talking when they hear you muttering in your unconscious state.
Mikasa tucks some strands of your hair behind your ear and rubs your back. “Y/N, are you ok?”
“Levi…I want Levi…”
Levi sighs and sits next to you on the bench. “I’m right here. Do you feel sick?”
You nod in discomfort and Hanji gets up to grab you some water.
“Try sitting her up. Her head laying down is probably making her dizzy.” Mike suggests.
Jean and Connie help you sit up and Levi leans you against his side. “You brat, why would you drink like that for?”
Hanji comes back with water and you open your eyes enough to grab the glass shakily, but Levi notices some bruising forming on your knuckles.
“What happened to her hands?” He asks as he helps you drink the water.
Jean cringes as he looks at Connie for help, but Connie shakes his head. “Well…” Jean starts, “The wine vendor was starting to get handsy with Y/N, and I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, but she laid a heavy punch to his face.”
“Ha! Didn’t know she had it in her.” Mike laughs but is silenced by Hanji’s elbow digging into his side as she sees anger spread across Levi’s face.
Armin steps forward quickly. “Don’t worry! Nile was actually nearby and saw it happen. He said he will take care of the vendor. Y/N’s not in trouble!”
“That guy…he was…GROSS…” Your speech slurs and you choke as you down more water. “He’s-….he’s lucky Levi wasn’t there! That wo-“ You hiccup, “Would have been…BAD!”
Hanji tries not to laugh, but she wishes there were a way to capture this moment.
Levi raises a brow. “Oh, it would be?”
You let out a hiccuped laugh. “Yeah! He-Levi…he always protects me…” More water spurts from your mouth as you have a hard time drinking from the cup. “That’s why …I-I…like him so much. We should- get…married!”
Everyone’s mouth drops and Mike can’t help but let out a whistle. “Ah, drunken truths.”
Mike is loving this.
Levi side eyes him as he wipes off your mouth. You smile and fall forward into his chest. “I’m tired…”
Levi pats your back. “Did you want to go to bed?”
You shake your head and wrap your arms around his torso. Suddenly, soft snores are faintly heard.
“Well…at least she can sleep it off at least a little for right now.” Hanji says as she smiles at the sight.
“At least she feels comfortable with you, Captain. She didn’t want any of us to grab her.” Sasha said. “When I tried, she just released the contents of her stomach onto me.”
“I’m shocked you didn’t eat it.” Connie sticks his tongue out at her, but she whacks him in the head.
The crew takes this time to grab some trays of left over dinner and sit at the adjacent table to eat. Levi is holding you close and rubbing your back as you snore softly into his shirt.
You stir awake after twenty minutes, head still foggy but conscious enough to start becoming familiar with your surroundings.
You slowly sit up, and when your eyes focus, you see everyone watching you.
“Hey, girly! You alright now?” Hanji smiles.
You grimace and look to your side and see Levi. You are exhausted and your head is starting to pound, so you slide into his lap and burry your face into his neck.
“Did I say you can get into my space, brat?” He whispers in your ear.
You shake your head no. You didn’t care who was watching, Levi looked mighty comfortable to lay on.
He sighs. “How about I take you to bed?”
“Nooo!” You whimper. “I want to stay with you!”
“Ok, I’ll stay but you are going to lay in bed.” Levi hooks an arm under your legs and picks you up.
He gives all the brats a “thank you” for watching over you, and then carries you to his room.
When he gets there, he lays you on his bed and starts taking off your shoes.
“Levviiii…stay here!” You groan out.
He clicks his tongue and rubs your hand. “Why do you want me to stay so bad?”
You burry your face deeper into the pillow. “Safe.” Is all you mutter before passing out again.
Levi frowns as he looks at your bruised knuckles. You were right when you said he would kill that vendor for touching you, and you were right in saying he would keep you safe.
He smiles gently and crawls in bed behind you, pulling you close to his chest as he spoons you from behind.
“You reek.” He says as he buries his face into the back of your neck.
#levi ackerman#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi attack on titan#attack on titan#levi aot#shingeki no kyojin
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spring tides [like the moon universe]
pairing: poly!ot8 ateez x fem!oc!reader
warnings: vague mentions of eating disorder, death and torture, scars, ptsd, very fluffy! a lot of comfort! not so dark this time xD I did not proofread this :D
word count: 14.1k
a/n: hello y'all :D I have returned with some LTM for you <;3 This is a oneshot for my like the moon universe! You don't necessarily need to read the series to understand this fic but it definitely helps the immersion and understanding some of the plot points! you can find all chapters of ltm on my masterlist <3
Seonghwa remembers something in the spring of your third year with Ateez. As he watches you at Jongho’s side, silently offering the guard slices of fruit as he cleans his claymore, Seonghwa recalls that he doesn’t know when your birthday is.
Jongho is murmuring something about the design of his blade and the engraving along the handle when Seonghwa stands abruptly. The eldest shifts on his feet, brows furrowed and teeth worrying his bottom lip. His lips purse when Jongho questions him.
“Hwa?”
The red-haired guard looks up at his partner with a lilt of concern in his voice, hands halting their motion on his blade. Jongho’s dark eyes glint as the fading sun catches the hickory color of his irises.
“Is there something wrong?” Jongho continues, already shifting to stand to his feet. “Are you alright?”
You rock on your feet, legs stretching as you prepare to stand with Jongho. Your eyes flicker across camp, scanning for whatever has caught Seonghwa’s attention. There’s two swords still strapped to your back and you can nearly feel the cool metal pressing into your skin – a haunting reminder of the terrible things you’ve done with them. The buzz beneath your skin itches with the beginnings of adrenaline, already prepared to stand and defend the two Ateez members at your sides.
Seonghwa lifts his hands and shakes his head to soothe you and Jongho before you can stand. He softly waves his hands to encourage you to sit back onto the carved log beneath you, a wary smile on his lips.
“No, it’s nothing,” he murmurs, still gnawing at his lip as he finishes. He offers a barely concealed sigh and shakes his head again. “‘M alright, just remembered something.”
Jongho doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer, but he settles back onto the floor regardless. His hands return to wiping down his claymore but he doesn’t look away from his partner.
You share the sentiment, continuing to watch Seonghwa and making note of each creak and scratch that echoes through the camp. You don’t know what startled him, but you’ll be prepared for the next time. The fruit in your hands has made your fingers sticky in the brief moments you spent looking up at Seonghwa rather than cutting the supple treat.
You don’t mind though. You like slicing fruit for Jongho. He doesn’t eat enough, you’ve noticed. You’re not quite sure why, but you suppose you don’t quite know how to ask. No matter the reason, it brings you comfort when he continues to take slices of succulent fruit from you as he cleans. He doesn’t look up, simply trusting you to place the pieces into his hands so he can eat without trouble. When you sat beside him that morning with the fruit in your hands, Jongho raised an eyebrow but didn’t mention it. You ate the first few slices before offering them to the wine-haired guard, who accepted them with a small smile. Every so often, he turns slightly, ensuring that you’re continuing to eat as much as he does.
At one point he tilts his head back, looking up at you with those pretty, boba pearl eyes and opens his mouth slightly. Both his hands are occupied, busy with the intricate care his blade necessitates. With your heart thumping quickly in your chest, you place a slice of fruit on Jongho’s waiting lips and try desperately not to linger on the thought of how full and supple they are.
“Thanks, love,” he murmurs without looking at you, the words sweet and saccharine in the low timber of his voice.
Seonghwa laughed when Jongho’s cheeks pinkened after that, but you weren’t really sure why.
Turning his attention to you, Seonghwa looks down at your figure. Sitting with a slight slump in your shoulders, the spymaster smiles faintly. Slouched posture is a good sign, he muses. You’re comfortable.
When you tilt your head to the side, silently questioning Seonghwa’s thoughts, you reach up to gingerly grasp his fingers. There’s no hesitation. There hasn’t been in a long while. Seonghwa extends his hand in offering when he notices your appendages twitch. His warmth sinks into your palm and you nearly hum at the soothing feeling.
You squeeze his hand twice before lingering for a longer third.
‘Are you okay?’ you silently question.
Seonghwa’s lips quirk into another gentle smile, but his eyes are distant. It makes your heart tug painfully. The hickory of his near-black irises is muted. You miss the glimmer of those sweet, dark eyes that show when he smiles.
“Yeah, m’alright, lovebug.”
Your heart slams into your ribs – a delighted feeling. Lovebug. You like that.
Seonghwa leans closer to repeat the gesture, squeezing twice and then lingering for an ‘okay.’ His other hand lifts to run over the back of your head with a delicate movement. Fingers carefully scratch against your scalp and you resist the temptation to lean into his hands and exhale softly.
“I have to go see Joong and Yunho, though. I really did just remember something I wanted to speak to ‘em about,” he whispers. Dragging his nails gently over the nape of your neck once more, Seonghwa smiles when you finally lean into his touch with a quiet rumble. He thinks you look positively cat-like. When one set of lashes flutters against your cheek in a tired, pleased expression, Seonghwa could coo at the endearing look. He withholds only to save you the embarrassment of his mother-hen tendencies.
Your one eye flickers over his expression once more before you relent and nod your head just once. Seonghwa’s hand begins to pull away from your head, and this time you do make a tiny sound of sadness. The eldest feels his heart squeeze at your reluctance to be parted from him, leaning close to drag his thumb over the stiff material of your mask with a sweet touch before he stands upright once more.
“I’ll be back in a minute, okay? You and Jongho finish up and join us for dinner soon.”
You let out a short exhale through your nose, a sound they’ve taken to signify your agreement. Jongho’s lips twitch at the noise, trying to hold back the laugh he wants to let out.
“Okay,” you whisper softly beneath your breath as you lean back against the back of the log. Seonghwa smiles and finally shifts his stance to leave, only pressing a gentle kiss to Jongho’s brow before walking off. Your head tilts one last time as Seonghwa leaves, wondering if perhaps one day he’ll kiss your head too when he takes his leave.
The archer finds Yunho before Hongjoong. The tallest of Ateez is easy to collect when Seonghwa gives him a meaningful look. The tension in the eldest’s brow must convince Yunho that there is something important he is needed for because he immediately follows after Seonghwa. The two find themselves in the Captain’s cavern, his and Seonghwa’s really, standing before the long-haired leader with a small frown on the archer’s lips.
Hongjoong mimics the frown, coming to a stand behind the desk currently holding a plethora of worn maps.
“What’s wrong?”
Seonghwa sighs, squeezing his fists together before he turns to face Yunho with a solemn expression.
“When’s her birthday?”
Yunho’s brow quirks at the same time the tension in his shoulders finally loosens a notch. Sighing softly, he licks his lips and answers.
“Tiny’s?”
Seonghwa nods, the expression on his face unchanging: serious and solemn, as if the situation was as grave as a wake. Hongjoong glances between the two men, his brow now lifted in surprise, but he says nothing.
“It’s been three years since she’s been with us,” Seonghwa murmurs tersely. “But we haven’t celebrated her birthday. The first year I could understand missing it – I mean, she was still adjusting to Ateez, and even after that she’s still a little apprehensive. Not that I blame her, of course – I just… It’s been three full years and I can’t believe we’ve missed her birthday at least three times.”
Yunho’s bottom teeth sink into his lip and his eyes suddenly dart towards the floor. He swallows once, shifting on his feet and sighs as he ponders how to answer Seonghwa’s question. The eldest watches his partner with that same, tense look and his eyes glisten with something sad – something understanding, as if he knows Yunho’s answer before he speaks it aloud.
“I don’t know,” Yunho finally answers quietly. He looks down at his feet, unable to meet his elder’s eyes. His eyes squeeze shut with another sigh that shakes through his shoulders. He repeats himself louder, still just barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.”
Hongjoong steps forward from behind his desk. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”
“I mean I don’t know,” Yunho whispers sadly. “And she doesn’t either.”
Seonghwa licks his lips, grasping at strings as he scrambles to find the right words to say.
“I don’t understand. How can she not know her own birthday?”
Yunho won’t look up from his feet. His fingers curl into fists and the tips of his nails dig into his palms from the tightness of his grip. He can’t bring himself to loosen his hold.
“Tiny, uh… After everything that happened with her – with that village, they don’t particularly regard her… fondly, you know?”
Yunho speaks slowly and methodically, as if trying carefully to pick the right words to say. His tone is terse and cold, the disdain for the village of his past more than evident in his voice. Hongjoong looks up at his partner with a frown still on his lips, his heart pulsing sadly in his chest.
“But she doesn’t know her own birthday? No one in her village told either of you?”
Yunho sighs again, finally looking up at his Captain with grief plastered across his features in an expression neither man can ignore. Seonghwa is already stepping forward, settling an arm over Yunho’s shoulders and rubbing his thumb across the taller man’s jaw.
Yunho leans closer to Seonghwa and continues, voice deep and throaty with the weight of his words. “We celebrated it once. Back when we were young – back when… Daia was still around.”
Hongjoong looks away.
“But even then,” Yunho continues softly, trying not to think of the bony cage casting shadows of your quivering form. You were so young. Little fingers grasped the cold bars that separated him from you, desperately whispering a plea for him to leave. He should have known your father wouldn’t let you celebrate your birthday like he and the other children did. But the smile on your face was so pure, so genuinely happy that he could never utter the words that may wipe it away.
“We didn’t know the exact date – just that she was born in the spring. Her father… well he killed the attendants that assisted her mother through labor. Not that we could prove it, of course. Anyone around for Bug’s birth… isn’t around anymore. And Bug was raised kind of secluded the first few years of her life. No one knows exactly when she was born and her father certainly wouldn’t say.”
Seonghwa’s eyes continue to glisten with that broken look, and he licks his drying lips before he speaks. His heart throbs painfully, echoing the sadness in his face.. “And… after Daia wasn’t around anymore?”
Seonghwa hates that he asks.
Yunho shifts on his feet and looks away again.
“I, uh… I don’t know much of what happened after Daia…” he trails off for a long moment. “By that time, the village and her father turned their backs on Bug, and I… I was exiled a few years later.”
Seonghwa thumbs over Yunho’s jaw again, trying to soothe his lover’s agony. Hongjoong steps closer and lays his hand across Seonghwa’s back, their combined sadness near tangible in the cavern hall.
“Bug’s birthday…” Yunho finally continues. “She’s never seen it as a good thing, you know? Her father and the village certainly didn’t see it that way.”
Seonghwa’s eyes sadden, the shine of his irises dulling at Yunho’s confession. He turns over his shoulder to look at Hongjoong and presses his lips together, as if regretting bringing up the topic altogether.
“A good thing?” Hongjoong whispers.
Yunho shakes his head, his frown dragging down his lips as he breathes softly. “Not something worth celebrating. The day she was born was… the start of everything bad, I guess.”
Seonghwa’s eyes squeeze shut, the burn of tears forcing pressure to build in the corners.
“Sometimes I think,” Yunho whispers tiredly, his eyes cloudy and unfocused as he stares into the distance. “I think she might hate it; that she might despise the day of her birth because of all the pain that came after.”
Hongjoong takes a deep breath in through his nose, trying to soothe the anguish that swells inside his ribs. There’s grief there, rage too, settling in the pit of his stomach and pushing upwards into his chest and throat. It’s not directed at you – it could never be. It’s towards your father, towards your village, towards anyone that has looked at you with disdain and uttered that foul moniker he knows makes you flinch.
“I’m sorry, Yun.”
Yunho shakes his head, leaning into Seonghwa’s hand and looking down at Hongjoong with his eyes glistening with welling tears. He swallows, clearly resisting the urge to cry, and kisses Seonghwa’s thumb when it brushes his mouth. “‘S okay, Seonghwa. I know your intentions were honorable.”
Seonghwa nods, finally leaning forward until his head rests against Yunho’s collarbone. An arm wraps around the eldest’s shoulders and Hongjoong presses himself against Seonghwa’s back, encasing both him and Yunho.
“So don’t bring up her birthday, then?” Hongjoong whispers, frown still drawing his lips downward. He speaks the question into Seonghwa’s shoulder blade, his lips grazing the tunic covering his skin.
Yunho is silent for a long moment. No one speaks and the sounds of their hushed breaths are all that echo through the hollowed cavern. Yunho ponders his Captain’s question in the silence and thinks of your growth in the years you’ve spent in their camp. Would you rather they never mention your birthday again? Or would you appreciate a different kind of memory to replace the shaded pains of the ones long past?
Soon after, Yunho leans forward to bury his face into Seonghwa’s hair before he breathes deeply and pulls back, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. He thinks of you and that youthful grin that used to grace your lips more often as a child. Yunho recalls the mischief in your smile and the wonder that would flash across your eyes, and he begins to twist an idea around his thoughts. It’s that look he wants to see again. He always wants to see it; the mischief, the awe, the teasing grin you used to throw over your shoulder to get him to chase you through the training grounds. He wants that so badly.
“Actually, Captain…”
Hongjoong peels his head away from Seonghwa’s shoulder, looking up to meet Yunho’s eyes with a raised brow and a question in his eyes. “Hmm?”
Yunho finally manages a fraction of a smile, stroking his hand over Seonghwa’s shoulders as he speaks.
“I think there might be a way we can show her that her birth is something worth celebrating. I’ll need your help though.”
“Anything.”
“Anything for her,” Seonghwa finishes at the same time Hongjoong speaks.
Yunho’s heart swells. The soft grin on his features begins to stretch, mirrored by his two elders. Pride begins to surge beneath his skin and it makes him feel fuzzy.
“What do you need?” Hongjoong whispers into the fraction of space separating their lips. Yunho huffs a smile, leaning closer until his mouth brushes against his leader’s.
“How do you feel about a little trip, Captain?”
Time passes easily. About a week goes by after the conversation between you, Jongho and Seonghwa before Hongjoong announces that Ateez will be spending a few nights traveling away from camp. He won’t say where they’re traveling to nor why they’re going, but there’s a mischievous grin on his lips when you tilt your head in suspicion. No one will tell you anything about the adventure other than handing you a cloth pack to gather some things for the trip.
Mingi helps you clean your blades and slides them into the scabbards on your back for you. Seonghwa packs food away carefully and slides extra servings of dried and cured meats into your pack followed by the fruit he knows you and Jongho love. San and Yeosang sit by your side as you help sort the first aid supplies the camp may need. The inky vines wrapping around Yeosang’s forearms flashes from beneath his sleeves, and you find yourself following the sight of the tattoo each time you peek a glimpse of golden skin covered in leafy shapes.
San laughs and raises an eyebrow at his lover when he flicks his shirt above his waistband playfully, showcasing the span of scales descending over his hip and up his waist. He giggles when you reach forward to pull his shirt higher over his side, eager to follow the lines of ink up his torso. San pushes your hands away and promises to show you one day. Wooyoung enters the cavern a moment later and exchanges a knowing look with San, as if the same pattern of obsidian scales crawls up the opposite side of his own torso.
On the morning Hongjoong announced their leave, you pack the last of your things diligently in the cloth pack given to you. There’s something fond rippling through your chest as you slide a hand over the large tunic laid across your bed.
The sensation seeps all the way down to your toes, a bittersweet happiness that arose from the realization that you’ve never… owned things before.
In that village, nothing was ever yours. It was always stolen or taken, never owned.
But now…
Now there’s all kinds of things in your corner of the medical cavern. There’s the little rope of twine with eight little beads Yeosang gave you to fiddle with so you wouldn’t pick and pull at your nails. There’s the bear-hide blanket Jongho handmade when you started to grow cold in the winter nights. A pile of spare clothes tailored to fit your size sits beneath your bed. A hollowed shell of smooth, rich cream sits beside you, specially made for you by Wooyoung and San when they noticed your scars were particularly aching in the cold weather. There’s a whetstone and cleaning tools beside your swords, left there by Mingi when he noticed your blades were dulling. Seonghwa always leaves a myriad of flowers beside your bed each week, and the dried stems of all his past bouquets hang above your on a piece of twine Joong brought you. There’s armor and chainmail beneath your bed, presented by Hongjoong with a shy smile. He cleans them for you when he thinks you’re not looking, ensuring the armor stays in good shape and protects you well. One of Yunho’s thicker tunics lies at the foot of your bed, a staple of your growing closet of clothes. He knows you like having his scent nearby. There’s books too, ones from the medical cavern and ones from Wooyoung, who you’ve discovered is quite the avid reader.
There’s just… all sorts of things.
And you’ve never really owned things before. It’s strange. And quite enjoyable, you decide.
You like owning things. You like being part of Ateez – being part of a family.
With your lips twitching upwards into a fond smile, you stand with the last of your belongings and slide the straps of your cloth pack over your shoulders. It sits a little strangely on your back but you huff and step out of the cavern anyway.
The rest of Ateez is already outside, shuffling the last of their belongings into storage and closing up the cave system behind you. A wooden sort of door slides shut behind you and the viny, earthen cover falls over it. It’s perfectly concealed from the wild, appearing just like any other cropping of rocks and stone. You marvel at their ingenuity and turn to find Wooyoung approaching you with a smile on his lips.
“Good morning, Bug. Are you ready?”
Your head tilts with a question as Wooyoung’s hands shift upwards to the straps of your pack. He raises a brow once, always asking for permission before he touches, and you shift closer and slide your hands onto his hips with a nod of your head. Wooyoung’s smile seems to widen, if at all possible, and he carefully begins to adjust the straps of your pack so it sits better across your back. Your gaze follows his hands, tracing over the fading scar on his one wrist – the space where a rusty shackle used to sit. Your lips quirk happily at the sight of the missing metal cuff, now long buried in the earth. He hums happily at the feeling of your hands on his waist, and chuckles beneath his breath when he feels your hands attempting to weasel under his shirt – likely another attempt to get a look at the tattoo you know sits there.
Wooyoung huffs a breath as you skate a gentle hand over his bare hip, focusing on the wavy shape of an oscillating line your draw over his skin. He translates the word as ‘what’ and understands your inquisition to mean ‘Ready for what?’
“Can’t tell you,” he laughs, his chest shaking with the motion as you squeeze his hip in retaliation. “Sorry, baby. Captain’s orders; take it up with Hongjoong if you want to know so badly.”
Your one eye rolls and Wooyoung laughs again, that bright, cackling sound echoing through the trees in a burst of noise that makes your heart flutter. You like Wooyoung’s laugh.
“C’mon you two!” Hongjoong calls from a distance, already beginning to pace towards the southwest. “We’re burning daylight. Let’s get moving.”
You respond with a choked hum despite knowing your Captain can’t hear it. Wooyoung grins, finally satisfied with the adjustments he’s made on your pack, and turns over his shoulder to call back, “We’re coming, Captain. Relax a little. It’s barely dawn, we’re on schedule.”
You don’t need to see Hongjoong to know what expression the Captain has on his face. A tiny smile appears on your lips and when Wooyoung turns back to face you with a hand held out in offering, his grin beams once more.
“C’mon, baby. You wanna walk with me and Sannie today?”
Your answering nod is a little too eager, but Wooyoung doesn’t mention it.
To you, anyway. The smug grin he shoots over his shoulder at Mingi and Yunho is met with a sigh and an eye roll. The vulgar gesture Mingi throws back goes unseen by you too.
Seonghwa sees it though, and the sound of Mingi’s squawk when he’s slapped across the shoulder by the archer makes Wooyoung laugh again.
It’s springtime. The forest is filled with bright shades of emerald green and flowers have begun to sprout along patches of sunlight. Lupin tickle at your ankles when you pass and you watch their lilac and lavender petals sway in the wind with a fond expression. Your last bouquet from Seonghwa was fresh Lupin flowers, a growing favorite of yours he has noticed.
Wooyoung holds your hand as you walk, sometimes shifting to allow San to take his place. They talk happily as you stride through the forest, following Yeosang and Jongho as they lead your band of warriors through the trees. You still don’t know where you’re going nor why you’re going there, but you trust your Captain and you trust your family.
Eventually, you unlink your hands from San to step ahead and walk besides Mingi and Yunho. San’s resounding pout and soft sigh are lost on you, but Wooyoung slides his hand into his partner’s empty fingers with a grin and a teasing poke to San’s side. Mingi intertwines his fingers with yours with a beaming grin and a happy chuckle, swinging your hands between you as you walk. He points out the flora and fauna he recognizes along the hike, explaining their uses as he recalls Yeosang’s teachings. He mentions the honey-haired healer’s tattoo sleeve of medicinal herbs and shows you some of the plants he recognizes to be inked into Yeosang’s skin. You eagerly categorize the leaves and petals of each plant, hoping that you’ll one day be able to find each one decorating Yeosang’s skin.
The first night away from camp is spent sleeping beneath the stars.
Your group of nine lays huddled together in a clearing in the pines, with a small fire burning quietly in the center for warmth. Shifts for watch are assigned and you find yourself curling between Yunho and San that night with a promise to take the final watch with Seonghwa. With cicadas clicking in the distance and a cool breeze rustling the branches above you, you find sleep easy that night. Strangely enough, despite resting out in the open with no cover around, you find you can sleep calmly. Nestled between your Yunho and your San, their body heat keeping you warm even underneath the fur blankets swaddled around you, you feel safe enough to sink into a well-earned sleep. You know the others will wake you if there’s trouble lurking about. They would never let anything happen to their family.
The next day is spent between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, happily listening to their stories and eagerly nudging the both of them to show you some of the ink decorating their skin. Once you found out about Yeosang’s tattoos, there was nothing holding you back from asking the others about their own. Seonghwa relents with a teasing grin towards Hongjoong, showing you the pattern of large scales that crawl up his forearms. You trace the delicate scales with a happy sound, not noticing the shiver that crawls down Seonghwa’s spine. Hongjoong rolls his eyes at his partner, but he almost wishes to show you the ink decorating his back and spine too. He only waves you away with a laugh when you turn to him with a tilt of your head and a happy question on your lips.
That night you sleep between Yeosang and Jongho, one of your legs wedged between the youngest’s and your hand clumsily intertwined between the healer’s fingers. This time, the nine of you settle in a cliff alcove, sheltered from the fog and the light drizzle of rain that spatters through the forest around midnight.
There’s no telling how far you’ve traveled from Ateez’s hollow. It’s been two days of mostly hiking and stopping for breaks and meals, but you’ve long grown used to strenuous labor so the walk is not nearly as difficult as you once thought it to be. You still have little to no knowledge on your destination as your Captain is tight-lipped about the matter. He only gives you soft smiles and quiet laughter when you nag him about where or why you’ve left camp.
On the third and last day of your long journey, you walk between Yeosang and Jongho at the front of your pack. The two have been leading you for three days, seeming to know the way without needing a map or compass. Every once and a while, Yeosang looks up at the night sky and lifts a hand to palm at the stars. You understand he must be checking your position, ensuring that they’re still on the right path, but you don’t ask. You find Polaris winking down at you each night with a fondness in your chest, and you give her a gentle, barely-there smile each time you see her.
The healer and his partner pace through the trees with newfound urgency that morning. The two members eagerly shuffle through the trees with beaming grins and an energy that you cannot help but mimic. They’re excited about something – unfathomably so.
“We’re almost there, honey,” Yeosang encourages you, holding out a hand to help you scale the final boulder before you begin your descent back down the mountainside. “Just another mile or so, I promise.”
You trust him.
The others have begun to feed on the buzzing atmosphere building in the group. There’s tension simmering, but a good kind, as if there’s something awaiting your family at your destination. You don’t know what it is, but it must be something good if they’re eagerly beginning to quicken the pace.
Soon after you begin your descent down the small mountain, the dense foliage of pine trees and packed soil gives way to something softer – something you’ve never quite seen or felt before. It’s pliable and squishy beneath your feet, allowing your weight to sink into the material with each step. It leaves footprints in your wake, the ground shifting and moving beneath your feet.
Sand.
It’s sand.
You know it’s sand because Yeosang has some collected in a small jar in the medical cavern. You’ve never seen it before: sand or the sea. You found the tiny bottle of eroded stone once and carefully examined it with a puzzled expression until Yeosang found you. The miniscule grains of rock and shell shifted in the bottle as Yeosang explained where it was from.
You listened to him for hours that day.
He talked about the sea and his life as a captain of his own ship from the hour of the sun’s peak until it descended beneath the horizon. You were fascinated. Eagerly hanging onto every single one of his words, you listened to Yeosang with a rapture you couldn’t describe. He spoke of the ocean and the smell of salt in the fresh air, mentioning that there was a particular hint of something so ocean-like in the scent that he couldn't begin to describe. Yeosang described the sand and the shore, detailing how the plush sand like the stuff in his bottle gave way to harder packed ground the closer you grew to the sea. He talked of how it felt to play in the waves and to feel the cool touch of the ocean on his skin.
You marveled at him for hours, longing desperately to one day know the smell he spoke of, to feel the ocean breeze tickle your skin and to feel its waves brush against your feet.
It sounded wonderful.
So when the sand beneath your feet begins to thicken, giving way to clumsier footsteps and the sound of something roaring in the distance, you perk upwards.
Your entire body slams to a halt, startling San who walks behind you. Jerking upwards, your one eye darts over to Yeosang, who stands with Jongho at his side, already looking at you. There’s this look in their eyes; something fond and gentle – an expression you’ve begun to recognize. They watch you as you begin to piece together the information you’ve gathered of this little trip, smiles on their faces as you realize where they’ve taken you.
At your side, San begins to bend forward, his hands reaching out to pull at the laces of your boots and chuckling beneath his breath. You reach out to stabilize yourself on his shoulder as you make a sound of confusion.
‘What’s going on?’ you try to question without speaking.
At your back, Yunho runs a hand down your spine and soothes the tension in your shoulders. You reach back, grasping his hand with a strength that surprises you and draw that oscillating squiggle across the back of his hand with a bewildered expression.
‘What’s happening?’
There’s another word you want to say. One you don’t have a translation for. A word you’ve never spoken or seen.
Ocean. The sea.
You don’t have a word for it.
But you can smell it now. That salty, fresh sort of scent with a hint of something you cannot place. Just like Yeosang described.
The sea.
San taps your leg, garnering your attention and helping you lift your foot so you can place it on his knee. He’s kneeling at your feet, one leg propped up to lift your foot and the other in the sand beneath him. The healer pulls at your laces, beginning to untie your shoes and pull them from your feet with a grin.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs with that low timber that makes you shiver. “Let’s get these off.”
Your held tilts in confusion. Seonghwa chuckles behind you, leaning into Mingi’s side and shooting a look over at Wooyoung. “Gotta take your shoes off unless you want sand in the soles, Bug. It’ll be a pain to walk back with all that in ‘em. I promise you’ll never be able to get it all out.”
Hongjoong laughs from beside Jongho, the Captain throwing his head back with a knowing grin. “Speaking from experience, huh, darling?”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes and ignores his lover, dropping a hand to intertwine with Wooyoung’s. The younger eagerly locks their fingers together, smiling happily and leaning his head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder as you process everything.
The others begin to pull off their own shoes, tying them to their packs or holding the laces in their fingers. Mingi laughs and pushes Wooyoung when he bends over to undo his laces, and when Wooyoung stumbles, he shouts indignantly and lurches upwards for revenge. Seonghwa laughs and tries to settle them, only to end up yanked out of the way by a grinning Yeosang. Wooyoung and Mingi screech at each other, beginning to race down the sand towards the roaring sound that continues to swell in the distance.
You worriedly look down at San, his dark irises already looking up at you with adoration swirling behind them. The healer pulls off your sock and carefully sets your foot back onto the sand, watching as you marvel at the plush, cool material beneath the soles of your feet.
“C’mon, tiny,” Yunho laughs behind you, chest rumbling as he speaks. The vibration echoes through your back from how close the warrior is pressed against you. He grins when you shiver pleasantly. “We’ve gotta catch up.”
San lifts your other foot delicately and places it on his waiting knee, repeating the process of taking off your shoe and sock before he ties the laces together and stores them away in his pack. Before he sets your foot back onto the sand, San’s eyes twinkle with something mischievous.
He leans forward and drags his fingers across the skin of your calf, eyes crinkling as he smiles. You look back down at him with your stomach fluttering pleasantly, watching as San leans forward and presses his lips to the side of your calf.
Oh.
His lips skate over the muscle and his hand rests where your thigh connects with the knee. You feel your breathing still. Air catches in your lungs, and some burst of emotion lurches into your throat as you stop and stare down at the healer with one widened eye. You can feel the smile on San’s soft lips as he drags his mouth from your calf to your knee, kissing your skin sweetly as he goes. He drifts over scars both fresh and faded, but does not stop moving as he ascends up your calf. San leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake, your skin practically shivering under his touch and lighting ablaze when he pulls away.
Oh.
You stare open-mouthed at the healer when San finally slides a hand down your leg and deposits it onto the sand. You lick your lips once, trying desperately to come up with words to say, but there’s nothing. Just the trail of blazing heat San left behind and a roaring fire beginning to spread inside your chest. You can practically feel the heat in your face, and you lift a hand to palm at your cheek as San watches with a teasing grin. Your figure practically vibrates as you shiver through the emotion bursting through you.
“San…”
Said healer mimics your shiver as you whisper his name, fingers dancing along your calf before he stops. He presses one final kiss to your knee, at the crease of the joint, and this time your eye slides shut with a shiver. The plush feeling of his lips against your skin is ambrosia for your soul and the barest touch of moisture is left behind when he finally pulls away.
He looks up at you with honey in his irises, hand skating down your calf once more and smiles.
“C’mon, Bug. We’ve got places to be,” he teases, saccharine timber never failing to make you melt.
As if he wasn’t the one distracting you.
Finally, you’re able to squeeze his shoulder thankfully and San beams up at you in the way that makes those sweet little dimples poke out of his cheeks. You nearly lean forward to caress a finger of the indents that make your heart mushy, but still as the cool sand sinks between your toes.
It’s… soft.
The sand melts beneath your soles like butter, cradling your heels and caressing your skin like silk. You wiggle your toes and awe at the feeling, watching the sand shift and move with your lips just barely parted in wonder. San watches from your feet, his gentle eyes roaming over your partly-concealed face and grinning at the expression plastered across your features. Your lips are parted, but just barely, taking deep breaths to inhale the fresh air of the sea breeze and one eye dilated with awe. San's heart thumps vibrantly beneath his ribs, a song of your name. It calls out to you sweetly, and San swears that when he runs his hand across the bare skin of your leg, brushing over scars and broken skin, he can hear your heart call his name in return.
Your one eye darts upwards to meet your Captain’s gaze.
Hongjoong stares at you with some ineffable softness in his expression. He reaches a hand out to grasp your fingers, helping you step forward away from San. The healer stands from his kneeling position, his own footwear now missing, and joins you at your side.
“You like it?” Hongjoong whispers as you near.
The vigorous nod of your head is almost comical, and Hongjoong chuckles beneath his breath. Yes. Yes you like it.
San beams at your side, unable to stop the mirthful sound of his laughter. It erupts from his chest in that giggling way that you adore. You tilt your head to look at him, your chest swelling and heart thumping with the tumultuous feelings surging within you. San reaches out to run a hand down your arm and you lean close offering a single line of ‘thanks’ across his palm.
Yunho leans forward and pecks a kiss across your forehead, directly over the mask concealing the right half of your face and then turns to walk after Wooyoung and Mingi, San at his heels. He doesn’t acknowledge the kiss, but your heart jumps into your throat regardless. Your fingers itch to follow him, twitching in an attempt to reach for him, but you turn back to your Captain instead.
Hongjoong is still looking at you, that ineffable softness still radiating from him. “C’mon, angel. Let’s go see the ocean.”
You’ve never been more excited.
Hongjoong begins pulling you in the direction the others have disappeared in, following them over the dunes of sand. At first, he pulls your awestruck figure behind him as you make your way through the deeping sand, turning back to watch you marvel at the grains of white and cream colored grains. Your feet drag, slowing the two of you down as you continue to look down at the sand beneath you. At one point, you can’t resist the temptation and you stop, carefully pulling your hand from Hongjoong’s to bend at the knees and drop into the sand.
“Woah, angel!” Hongjoong gasps as you let go of his hand and urgently drop into the earth below. “Careful!”
Dragging your fingers through the silky material, you watch the tiny pieces of sediment cascade back into the hills beneath you as they trail between your fingers. The sand is cool to the touch and gentle as it scratches against your skin. You thought it would be rough, but it’s not. Not this sand anyway.
Seonghwa chuckles behind you, stopping to drop his hands beneath your shoulders and gently lift you back up to your feet. The others are little specks in the distance, just a few hundred yards away. The eldest carefully sets you on your feet and slides a hand down to intertwine with your own.
“C'mon, lovebug. We haven’t even reached the good part yet.”
The good part? You wonder. How could it possibly get any better than this?
But as the crashing sound gets louder with each step you take and the smell of salt continues to grow stronger, you begin to realize what the good part is.
Soon after, it becomes you dragging Hongjoong and Seonghwa through the sand dunes. Eagerly tugging them behind you as you race towards the others, you sink into the sand and stumble a few times, only catching yourself when either member scrambles to grab your waist. You push quicker through the deepening sand each time you right yourself, racing through the dunes until you finally see it.
The sea.
And you stop moving.
Hongjoong and Seonghwa nearly crash into your back as you freeze, body halting at the top of the sand dune. Your one eye is transfixed on the view before you, mouth parted and body slack with awe.
Waves are crashing along the shore, breaking into foamy surf as they collide with the cream-colored sand. There are little birds with thin, long legs dancing in the shoreline, pecking at things in the packed sand. You watch with fascination as they rush away in a flock from an oncoming wave. When the foam finally settles, they return to their feeding grounds, continuing to peck away at something beneath the darker sand. The smell of salt fills your senses and there’s a brush of water against your skin as a breeze carries a mist of salt onto the shoreline.
You’ve never seen so much… color before.
The ocean is blue. Green too, and teal and dark and bright, and every color in the range you can possibly think of. It’s aquamarine in the peaks of crashing waves and a darker cyan in the deepness of the salty water. There’s pale blue, creamy skies and even paler cream-colored clouds. You nearly wish you could reach out and touch one.
It’s wonderful. And it’s so much more than you think you deserve.
With awe on your features and mouth slightly parted, you stare mystified at the sea before you. Hongjoong steps up beside you, the others starting to circle back to stand nearby. They just stand there… watching you for a minute.
They watch your one pupil dilate and your expression softens into wonderous glee. Their hands intertwine with each other, fingers squeezing one another and hearts thumping happily in their chests. There’s pride there, and affection too, roaring madly beneath their skin and calling out to the sea with a throaty, triumphant call.
You like it. You like the sea.
And they like you.
Hongjoong slides a hand down your arm until he can gently link your scarred fingers with his own. Your attention briefly shifts away from the sea to look over at your captain.
His soft brown hair rustles as the sea breeze flutters through the strands, and Hongjoong smiles. Eyes scrunching into a beaming grin, the one that you like so much, he offers a squeeze of your palm. The scar crossing his one eye moves with his expression and you adore the way it looks when he smiles. Chocolate brown irises flicker in the brightness of the sunlight and for a moment, you think you much prefer the color of his eyes than the enchanting blue-green of the sea.
But it’s tough competition, of course.
Hongjoong squeezes your hand once more, fully drawing your attention back to him, and he leans close to carefully grasp the side of your face. His palm gently cups your mask, stroking his thumb over the tough material with a delicateness you cannot fathom deserving. But he touches you regardless, even if it's the mask instead of your skin. Hongjoong doesn’t care that you continue to wear it. None of them do. It’s a part of you, and they’ll continue to care for you all the same.
“Are you happy?” The Captain inquires, licking his lips as he watches you.
The vigor in your nod nearly makes him laugh. His beaming grin only seems to widen and you find yourself stunned at how beautiful he looks happy.
“Yeah? That’s good. I’m glad you’re happy, angel.”
You want to ask something else. Something about why your little clan has ventured this far or perhaps something else, but you can’t begin to find the words for it.
You don’t need to though.
Hongjoong leans closer, his warm, umber eyes scanning your features as he whispers something only for you to hear.
“Happy birthday, Bug.”
You barely register the sentiment before your captain leans forward and gently presses his lips to the crown of your head.
You don’t breathe. Too frightened that any movement will force him to pull away, you stay remarkably still and stare numbly into Hongjoong’s chest.
His lips linger for a long moment against your hairline, and you feel the warmth of his exhale against your scalp. The feeling makes your stomach flutter pleasantly and suddenly your body feels like you’re going to vibrate out of sheer enjoyment. Another shiver tickles its way up your spine and you finally exhale shakily. Reaching a hand upwards, you clutch onto the hand Hongjoong has still cupping your cheek.
Her heart finally throbs with a dull ache.
Your birthday?
You didn’t even think…
Hongjoong exhales softly and bends to drop a second kiss onto your mask, just above where your right eye would be. It throbs suddenly, but not so painfully this time.
Your birthday.
They came all this way for you?
All of this… leaving the camp, walking all this way, spending nights on the road, showing you the sea for the first time… they did this to celebrate your birthday?
Your heart hurts.
No one has ever done that for you before.
You suppose Yunho and Daia tried once… but that didn’t end so well. Salt wells behind your one eye and your lip twitches just once, but it's enough for Hongjoong to catch. Your chest aches with the memory of your mother. It’s a hurt you could never quite soothe.
The Captain’s smile is still bright when he pulls away but there’s a sadness beneath the joy. No, not sadness, you suppose. Something empathetic – something… bittersweet.
Hongjoong knows. They all do.
“My birthday?” Your mouth parts to let out the croaked sound. Your voice has gotten better. The deeper, rough tone of your voice has begun to fade after finally learning to use it again. It’s beginning to return to what it used to be – slow and steadily.
From behind you, Yeosang hums deeply. You recognize the sound without turning to look at him. His voice always carries that undertone of sweet and smooth honey, and you can’t find any other way to describe it.
“Yeah, honey. You told me you’ve never seen the sea, right? We thought it would make a good birthday present.”
The healer is standing behind Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung at his sides and the rest of Ateez just beyond. They’re all here. For you.
You shift on your feet, barely able to restrain the wetness of your one eye as you attempt to face them. Your heart still throbs, but it’s more of a pleasant ache – a good one. A sea breeze rustles your hair. Three silver rings click against your mask; a comforting sound that reminds you of home – of Yunho. The scent of salt in the air fills you with warmth and the silky sand beneath your feet cradles you in the earth’s gentle hands. The world itself seems to wrap around you in its kindness, delicately embracing you as if asking for forgiveness.
It feels like your mother – like the hugs you can barely remember.
The burn of tears returns tenfold.
You’ve never celebrated your birthday before. It was never a day others regarded with joy, so you supposed it was only fair to see it the same way. You don’t even really know what day you were born. Father never told you – he never told anyone.
But… perhaps this day – the day Ateez has chosen for you – can be your birthday. Maybe this time it doesn’t have to be a bad thing anymore.
“We wanted to show you something new. Something good. Do you like it?” Wooyoung whispers as you process your feelings. His voice is apprehensive, as if he isn’t quite sure how you’ll respond to celebrating your birthday. You can barely hear him over the roaring sound of waves colliding with the shoreline and birds peeping in the surf.
You’re already throwing yourself into Wooyoung’s arms before a moment of silence can pass. You crash into his chest with a crooned sound, a desperate cry of joy.
“Yes!” You finally croak, the word sounding more like a sob than an agreement. “Yes, I like it!”
Wooyoung laughs happily as he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a joyful sound. His chest vibrates with his laughter and you love the way it feels against your body. One of your hands slides out from between you and you urgently grasp ahold of Yeosang’s shirt and tug him into your pile with a quick movement. San follows soon after, lured in by Wooyoung’s touch and suddenly you’re buried beneath a mountain of Ateez’s warmth.
Another wet sob leaves your lips, but it’s much closer to a laugh this time.
“I love it…”
And we love you.
He doesn’t say it aloud, but Wooyoung hopes you hear it anyway.
Seonghwa lets out a hearty laugh despite it sounding wet with his own tears, and he wraps an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders as he tugs his captain close. The leader’s eyes are watery as he and the archer pile into your embrace. Mingi and Yunho follow quickly after, with the tallest of the two reaching out to snag Jongho’s tunic. The youngest is already moving, sliding beneath Yeosang’s arm to nuzzle into the healer’s side. One of his hands nestles between his lover’s ribs, resting atop your bicep. You push closer into their hands, warm and happy and still softly crying.
You love it.
It cannot possibly get any better than this. Not even the comforting breeze of the ocean air brushing over your skin nor the warmth of any roaring campfire could rival this feeling. There’s no warmth in the world that can surmount the heat of Ateez embracing you. Their hands carefully sweeping over skin leaves trails of pleasant heat in their wake, and the throb of your aching heart is only soothed by a soft coo leaving San’s lips. Wooyoung slides a hand over your head, pulling you closer into his neck, and you feel a bigger hand – Yunho’s, you know – scratch gently over your scalp. Another settles onto your hip, rubbing gentle circles into the bone. They’re Seonghwa’s, you recognize the calluses on his two fingers when they brush over the skin of your bare hip. Mingi’s hand settles across your back, resting between your shoulder blades. His firm touch and big hands are easy to decipher. Jongho’s wrap around your arm, strong and steadfast, just like you know him to be. Your captain’s smaller hand finds your fingers, sliding between them as you grip onto San with a fierce grip.
Hongjoong’s hands tremble when he twists his grip to drag a line down your left ring finger. His gaze finds yours, a watery smile on his lips when your mouth parts in shock and your one eye dilated beyond comprehension. The Captain finishes drawing the line at the tip of your nail, where each of his fingers meets the end of each of yours. Then Hongjoong slides his hand into yours and squeezes three times.
Yunho must have taught him that one.
Because no one else has ever uttered those words to you – least of all meant them.
Your grip tightens fervently, pulling until you can press Hongjoong’s hand into your chest and let him feel the racing pulse of your heart. It slams into your ribs with a thunderous pace, beating in a pattern you hope he can discern. You pull your head from Wooyoung’s neck just slightly. Just enough to lean down and press your lips to Hongjoong’s fingers.
You hope he knows what it means.
He does.
“Happy birthday, tiny,” Yunho murmurs into the shared space between the nine of you. “We’re so happy you’re here.”
You weep.
Ateez spends three nights and four days at the beach.
On the first, you don’t have the courage to venture too far into the shore. The roaring of waves crashing onto the sand is intimidating when you don’t know how to swim. You settle for watching the others splash and wrestle in the shallow sea. Their shouts of glee are enough joy to warm your heart.
You watch Mingi grapple with Hongjoong on the shoreline, huffing softly with a grin when Mingi inevitably gets the upper hand. The guard lifts Hongjoong over his shoulder and laughs deeply as he storms his way towards the sea.
“Put me down!” Hongjoong roars, smacking his hand against Mingi’s back. “Mingi!”
The guard only laughs and spins the two of them in the shallows as he wades deeper into the waves.
“Don’t you dare!”
You watch as Mingi laughs brightly once more, calling out a “too late!” as he unceremoniously dumps his captain into the sea.
Hongjoong dunks beneath the water with a roar, and for a moment you worry he won’t emerge again. He does, however, and lurches from the waves with an undignified shout and lunges towards Mingi as he laughs.
“Get back here!”
You grin and watch the two continue to wrestle in the waves.
Jongho takes you onto the nearby rocks and shows you the wonders of tide pools. He and Yeosang spent years living by the sea, and he murmurs hundreds of little facts about each of the animals he can find. Crouching down by a shallow pool, Jongho reaches into the cool water and ever so carefully lifts a sea star from the water. He cradles it delicately, leaving it half submerged as he pulls you closer with his other hand.
“This is a sea star,” he whispers, looking up at you and gesturing for you to crouch beside him. “You want to feel? You won’t hurt it.”
When you crouch at his side, Jongho pulls your hand towards him with a smile. Bent at the knees, you lean into his side and watch with a bated breath and marvel at the texture of the sea star still carefully held in Jongho’s hands. It’s soft and squishy beneath your delicate touch and you huff a smile as you watch with a mystified expression.
You watch some of the tiny feet of the sea star wiggle in Jongho’s hand and whip your head over to face him with a question on your lips.
Jongho is already looking at you, watching you instead of the sea star in his hands. He’s smiling, softly and sweetly, his eyes fixed on your one eye. They drift from your left one to where your right would be if not hidden behind the mask, then he drops them to your lips. Your breath stutters and you swallow shyly before Jongho lifts his eyes back to your own.
He smiles, as if nothing happened and continues, “See the poky creatures down here? The ones that look like they have needles? Those are urchins. The sea stars will eat those.”
It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to pull your gaze away from Jongho’s face.
At another tidal pool, Jongho points out a creature he calls an anemone. The vibrant teal and green color of its shape mystifies you and you lean closer to investigate it. Listening carefully to Jongho’s explanation of the anemone, you look back up at him with a question in your eyes.
“Yeah, you can touch that one too. Be careful though.”
You don’t understand his warning but carefully drop your hand into the pool to delicately caress the anemone anyway. The chill waters surround your skin and you lean closer to touch the creature, you let out a startled squeal when its sticky tentacles wrap themselves around your finger. Surprised, you lurch away from the pool, confusion in your face and hands braced on the rock beside you.
Jongho laughs so hard you think he might choke.
You turn to look at him with furrowed brows and an upset pout on your lips, a little disgruntled Jongho didn’t tell you that would happen.
The youngest continues to laugh at the utter confusion in your expression, finally bracing himself against you and apologizing.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, Bug. I couldn’t help myself!”
You frown and push gently at his chest, posing a little miffed at Jongho’s teasing. The youngest snorts and pulls you closer to his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
“I won’t do it again, I promise,” he laughs. “We should wash your hands though, the stingers on those anemones can leave toxins on your skin. I don’t want you to touch your face without cleaning your hands first.”
You huff and nod, letting him lead you away from the rocks and towards the others. When you find San, you race away from Jongho and bury yourself into his chest with a pretend pout. The healer wraps you up in his embrace without question, turning to look at Jongho with a raised brow. Jongho rolls his eyes and laughs.
Seonghwa and Wooyoung take you to collect shells in the afternoon.
Your footprints linger in the sand behind you as you hold the archer’s hand and walk along the shoreline. The sand is packed beneath your feet closer to the shore and you find that there are all sorts of different shells just above the water line.
You recognize some of the larger, smoother shells Yeosang and San use to store medicine sometimes. They’re scallop-shaped and hollow in the middle, and the healers like to use them for creams or other ointments. Seonghwa helps you carry some back to the healers who gratefully pile your collection into one of their packs. They can always use more shells in the medical cavern.
Further down the beach, you find a plethora of smaller shells and drop down into the sand to rummage through them. There’s hundreds of them, some twisting into points and others round at the edges. Some are still split into pieces and others are still whole. Some are closed like a locket. Seonghwa tells you to leave those ones alone – there’s still creatures living in those ones. You gasp and carefully set the shell back down into the sand ever so delicately. The archer smiles fondly at your care for the earth and her creatures.
One of the bigger shells that washes up on the shore catches your attention, and you rush over to the pristine, cream colored object. Yeosang called these conches. When you excitedly turn over the shell, you’re startled to find a spiny looking creature inside. A large claw grazes your hand and your heart lurches.
You shout in surprise, jerking away from the shell with a gasp.
“Bug?!”
Seonghwa is at your side in an instant, hands on your back and pulling you away from the shell. “What happened?”
He doesn’t know why you shouted at first, too worried something has hurt you. His hands slide across your shoulders, turning you to face him and urgently scanning you for injuries. But when he looks down at the crab claw emerging from the shell, Seonghwa feels his chest shake with quiet laughter. Your head jerks back to look at the archer.
“It’s alright, darling. You just startled the crab living inside this one. He won’t hurt you, honey.”
Each shell you turn over for the rest of the day is done carefully and gently, and Seonghea feels his heart tug affectionately at how cute you look doing so. You nudge one with a stick to see if any claws come out and Seonghwa has to bury his smile in Wooyoung’s shoulder.
“She’s so precious,” the warrior murmurs under his breath.
Seonghwa hums in agreement, his head lifting from his partner’s shoulder to find you waving them over excitedly.
“We’re coming, sweetheart!”
Wooyoung settles at your side with a grin and looks down at the smooth stones in your hands. There’s a few rocks mixed in with the more ornate looking shells you’ve gathered, and Wooyoung tilts his head in an attempt to decipher why you’ve called them over.
“What’s goin’ on?”
Seonghwa’s heart stutters at the beaming smile on your lips. You smile more and this is not the first he’s ever seen, but each time you look up at him with that grin on your face, Seonghwa feels his stomach flutter and pride swell from his gut. He almost bites down on his bottom lip to resist sending you back a grin of his own, but Seonghwa doesn’t. And he’s grateful he does, because the way your one eye crinkles with joy when he smiles down at you makes his cheeks burn and his skin tingle.
“Look!” You urgently whisper, swallowing around the word to repress how sore your throat is.
Directing his attention to the dark stones in your hands, Seonghwa’s brows furrow in confusion.
“I don’t understand.”
You lift the stone beside his face, pulling Wooyoung into your side as you do. The two of you face Seonghwa as the archer grows more confused. The dark brown, near ebony-colored stone is lifted just beside his temple and you watch with a marveled expression as you shift your gaze from the rock to his eyes.
“What is it?” Seonghwa urges.
Wooyoung grins, his teeth flashing as he laughs sweetly. His two-toned hair ruffles in the breeze and Wooyoung turns to face you, squeezing your hip as he slides an arm around you.
“That’s a good find, Bug,” he murmurs, looking back up at Seonghwa with honey in his gaze. “The same shade as his eyes. It matches him perfectly.”
You nearly vibrate with happiness, wiggling a little in Wooyoung’s arms as Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle. “Really?”
You nod fervently, reaching for his hand and dropping the smooth stone into his hand and curling his fingers around it. Seonghwa holds the rock carefully, not looking away from your one eye as he lifts it to press into his heart.
“Thank you, darling.”
You smile again, just a little twitch of your lips and nod. Then you turn to Wooyoung and weasel your way out of his grip to hold another up for him. This stone is a similar shade as Seonghwa’s, but just different enough that Seonghwa can see where you’ve matched this one to the exact hue of Wooyoung’s umber irises.
You hold it out to Wooyoung with a tilt of your head and Wooyoung has to resist the urge to lean forward and squish your cheeks. He’s rarely seen you so excited – so… at ease. It makes every muscle in his body eager with the urge to hold you close and squeeze you tight.
“For me?”
You nod excitedly and Wooyoung accepts the stone with a skip of his pulse. “Thank you, baby.”
He and Seonghwa exchange looks and Wooyoung slips the stone into his pocket, where he knows he’ll keep it safe.
“Help me?” You whisper softly, gesturing to the plethora of stones and shells beneath you. “For the others.”
“Of course.”
The two help you find six more stones, one of each of the other members of Ateez. Each one is the exact shade of their eyes – colors you know by heart.
Wooyoung cannot tell you that after the trip, the rest of the boys gather to look at the stones and shells you collected for them. He doesn’t tell you that Mingi finds some twine and they braid bands for each other, carefully depositing their gifts onto string and binding them to each other’s wrists.
On the first night, the nine of you sleep around a bonfire.
The crackling flames keep you warm from the evening’s cool breeze, but you don’t think you sleep at all. The excitement and pure glee from the day keeps you awake. Adrenaline still roars through your veins and you settle for watching the stars for a moment longer. You find the twinkling shape of Polaris easily, and whisper your thanks up at her, just like you do every night since Jongho pointed her out.
She winks back.
The fire continues to crackle and the smell of wood burning soothes your nerves. Eventually, you pull yourself from your bed roll, carefully maneuvering away from Yunho’s warm chest and wrap your blanket around your shoulders. Quietly, you make your way over to the massive piece of driftwood facing the shore.
Then, you drop silently beside Mingi, who sits and watches the sea. It’s technically his watch, but the guard faces the ocean as if he cannot bring himself to look away.
Mingi does not startle when you find your place at his side, only shifting slightly to allow you to get comfortable. As you settle, you scooch as close as you can towards Mingi’s broad chest. Your side presses into his as you rest your weight against him and Mingi smiles, still looking at the sea. He easily accommodates your weight and wraps an arm around your shoulder, covering both your forms with his blanket. You snuggle close, burying your face into his neck and continue to watch the waves crash against the shore as the moon illuminates their peaks.
You sit there for hours. Though you cannot sleep, excitement still pumping through your body, you find staying awake with Mingi is just as nice. Far more comforting, you’d even say. Mingi’s body heat keeps you pleasantly warm and his big arm stays wrapped around your waist. Soon after you settle, the guard drops his cheek onto your head and he breathes slow and deep.
Even when Yeosang relieves him of his shift, taking over his place for watch, Mingi remains still. The two of you stay there until neither of you can keep your slowly fluttering lids open any longer.
Yunho finds the two of you in the morning, and he kisses Mingi awake with a sweet grin and soft eyes. He brushes a hand through your hair and drops a kiss onto your head, eventually dropping onto your other side where he wraps an arm around both you and Mingi as the three of you watch the sunrise.
The second day, you finally find the courage to venture into the waves with San and Yunho at your sides. Yeosang stands in the waves, waiting for you.
San leads the way, walking backwards into the surf and holding both your hands. Yunho stands beside you, one of his arms reaching out to steady you and reassure you that he’s still there. You make eye contact with Yeosang and he winks at you. The honey-haired healer grew up in the sea. You know that if anything goes wrong, Yeosang will know what to do.
“Let’s go, tiny. You’ve got this,” Yunho encourages, softly nudging you forward as you apprehensively toe the water line.
You can’t swim. And you’ve never ventured into the sea before.
It’s a little daunting, but the dimples on San’s cheeks and the smile on his lips encourages you to keep walking. You clutch his hands with a vice grip and gasp as the cold, salty waves cascade over your toes.
“Sorry, lovebug. It’s a little cold.”
San laughs as you throw him a withering look. That information would have been helpful before you stepped into the sea. Yeosang laughs at your side, rubbing a hand along your waist and watching you shiver at the warmth of his touch.
No matter how many times they touch you, you cannot help the way it makes you feel.
“A little further and we can stop,” San murmurs, squeezing your hand when you stumble in the sand and pulling you closer. “C’mon, baby.”
A few steps further and you stand at Yeosang’s side, digging your toes into the plush sand beneath your feet and marveling at how the waves lap at your knees. It’s cold, but you don’t mind since it’s a reprieve from the midday sun. When you turn your back to the sea, a strong wave pushes you closer to San and he laughs when you stumble into his chest. Water splashes upwards, and you get your first taste of seawater.
“Woah!” San laughs, steadying you by the waist and watching as you stick your tongue out with an indignant sound. He can’t help the way laughter bubbles from his chest. You look positively betrayed by the ocean, as if the taste of salt on your tongue personally offends you.
Yunho and Yeosang dissolve into giggles behind San, leaning onto each other to support themselves. Your one eye narrows and you shoot them an angry look, but San thinks you look more like an angry, wet cat than anything scary. Of course, he would never tell you that.
“I’m sorry, Bug!” Yunho laughs. “You just look so funny!”
San listens to you grumble something under your breath, something that sounds like ‘showing him something funny,’ and then you bend at the waist and splash a mountain of water in his direction.
Yunho guffaws at the betrayal and San dissolves into his own laughter, bending at the waist and bracing a hand on his chest as he cackles. Your grin is positively menacing, Yeosang decides. He wonders if you’ll become as much of a brat as Wooyoung if this continues.
Yunho, now drenched in salt water and wet hair dripping into his eyes, enacts revenge and lunges towards you. San, ever the sweetheart, throws himself in between you and Yunho and the two sink into the waves with smiles.
Eventually, when your skin begins to wrinkle from the time you spend in the waves and the sun begins to set, Yeosang and you step away from the shore to settle against the same piece of driftwood that marks your temporary camp. Yeosang sits atop the log and you lay just below him on the sand. You lean against his leg, just watching the rest of the boys continue to dance and swim in the surf. The sound of their laughter makes your heart happy and their gleaming smiles leave a grin of your own on your lips.
It’s nice – smiling again, you mean. It’s a gift from Ateez they have not realized they’ve given, but you take care to treasure it regardless.
You wrap an arm around Yeosang’s tattooed calf, your fingers occasionally dragging along the pattern of thorns that descend from his thigh. They wind around his leg, ending at the bone of his ankle and you’ve seldom been able to keep your hands away from the obsidian ink since he showed you. This, of course, is much to Yeosang’s delight, and the honey-haired healer can barely resist the way he beams so brightly when your delicate hands skim across his tattoos again. He loves it when you touch him.
Mingi and Seonghwa leave the shoreline after a few minutes. They step away from the water to stoke the bonfire at the center of your makeshift camp. The flickering amber hues dance along burning bark and release a pleasant aroma onto the beach. You inhale deeply and lean further into Yeosang, humming happily when one of his hands reaches out to scratch along your scalp.
Head scratches have become one of your weaknesses, you suppose. All it takes is for one of them to run their nails along your head and you’ll sink into their embrace with a happy sigh and mushy bones.
When Mingi is satisfied with the roar of the campfire, he and Seonghwa press kisses to Yeosang’s hair and brush fingers over your hairline as they pace back towards the shore.
A harmonious shout of glee leaves San’s lips as Jongho tackles him into the shallow surf, and there’s an uproar of laughter from amongst the boys. San shouts something along the lines of being cold and twists in the waves in an attempt to pin Jongho beneath him. Jongho, easily the strongest of the nine of you, maintains his place above San but spits salt water out of his mouth in surprise when his partner douses him with a splash. In revenge, Jongho prepares to dunk San’s head beneath the water, only to be tackled into the sea by Yunho. The youngest lets out a squawk of surprise as he sinks into the water and the laughter begins again.
You turn your head towards Yeosang, resting your cheek against his knee and looking up at him with your one eye. You nudge him gently with your knuckles, drawing his attention to you.
“Are you going to join them?”
The honey-haired healer barely catches your question over the cacophony in the surf, but he smiles at the sound of your voice. He slides a hand deeper into your hair and scratches against the nape of your neck, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when your eye flutters shut briefly.
His eyes, chocolate brown and gleaming with the flicker of flames before you, are warm and strong. They look down at you like you’re the only thing he sees – the only thing he wants to see.
It’s familiar. This moment is too.
Shivering gently from the weight of his gaze and bones feeling mushy and warm, you look up at Yeosang and wait patiently for his answer.
“No, not yet,” he whispers in return, expression soft and eyes tender. “I’m very happy where I am right now.”
You inhale deeply through your nose, recalling when he spoke the same words so long ago. The exhale that shudders through your lungs is accompanied by the sound of Yeosang’s deep, honey-sweet voice.
“I‘m happy here with you.”
He finally has the courage to say it.
You look away from Yeosang so he doesn’t see the water welling in your lone eye. The stroke of thanks you brush across his skin is enough to let him know what you mean. The swell of electricity zinging beneath your skin leaves you breathless and you lean into Yeosang’s legs to combat the shift in emotion.
The healer hums sweetly in response, unable to look away from you. He examines you as you watch his partners, lifting his head when another uproar of laughter erupts when Hongjoong overpowers Wooyoung in whatever game they’re playing in the waves.
But when you glance back at Yeosang shyly, you see it.
You see the way he looks at you now.
With stars in his gaze and affection glimmering in the shine of his irises, you see the way Yeosang’s features melt so sweetly as he watches you. He looks at you the way he looks at them; like he’s staring at his very heart and soul – like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather gaze upon than your face warmed by the flicker of roaring flames and your one eye finally staring back into his. No apprehension, this time. No fear or confusion or worry or an amalgamation of all of them together. You just… look back at him.
Just like how he looks at you.
When Seonghwa and Mingi rejoin the parade, kicking up salt water and spinning through the shallows, the boys cheer gleefully and begin to dance. It’s chaotic and a mess of stumbling and laughter, but it’s dancing nonetheless. The sound of their joy is infectious and spreads along the beach until it reaches you and Yeosang.
But he’s not listening to them. He’s listening to you. His ears are trained on the sound that erupts from his feet, bubbling from your lips in a noise he’s been praying to hear.
Laughter.
You’re laughing.
There’s this bright, heart-stopping smile spread across your lips as you look up at Yeosang and listen to your family dance on the beach. Your shoulders shake softly with the movement of your laughter, and Yeosang can feel the vibrations of your chest pressed against his leg. It starts as a muffled giggle, barely concealed by your smile, but it deepens into a hearty laugh from deep in your belly.
He cannot tear his eyes from you.
You laugh.
You laugh and you look up at him with stars in your eyes and his heart in your hands, and it takes every fiber of his strength not to lean forward and drown himself in the taste of your lips. It’s all he wants – all he needs, he swears it. One taste of your lips would sate him for life, even though he knows he’d never be able to tear himself away again.
When you lean upwards, grabbing ahold of his fingers and pulling them towards you, Yeosang’s mouth parts to suck in a breath.
You kiss his fingers.
By the Gods, maybe that was a lie. One kiss would never be enough to sate him – there would never be enough of your touch or your kisses that could ever appease his soul. Even if he were immortal and your paths intertwined until the last of the stars burned from the sky, not even then would he have enough of you.
You laugh again, grinning up at Yeosang with a toothy smile and the corner of your mouth digging into your mask. If he wasn’t already sitting, he swears he would drop to his knees at your side.
He loves it – the sounds of your laughter. No matter how raw or croaked the sound is, he adores it. The sound of your voice once made his heart race with glee, but this… This is different.
It’s so much more.
This is joy. Unbridled and unashamed and so clearly you. It’s your laughter, your glee, your happiness that sinks beneath his sin and lights his nerves on fire. It’s your smile and your giggles that make his heart swell. Yeosang adores it. He adores you.
He cannot help the way he slides off the driftwood log and into the sand at your side. Yeosang is pulling you into his chest before you can question his actions. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls your head into his neck, pressing you as tight to his chest as he possibly can.
“You’re laughing…” he whispers as he huffs in disbelief. “Bug! You’re laughing!”
The second time Yeosang utters the phrase, it’s shouted cheerfully as he squeezes you tight into his chest. His heart thumps brazenly beneath his ribs, and he can feel the pulse of yours against his own. You giggle again, wiggling to readjust yourself as you sink into the honey of his embrace. Yeosang’s heart trills excitedly again.
Yunho’s head darts upwards from the beach, startled by Yeosang’s call.
“What?”
San hears Yunho’s whispered disbelief and stands from the surf, attention drawn over towards you and Yeosang. “What did he just say?”
“It’s Bug,” Hongjoong answers, standing behind Yunho with his eyes blown wide. His heart stutters once in his chest as he takes in the sight of your shoulders shaking gently with your giggles. He can’t hear the sound of them, but Gods does he wish he could. “Bug’s laughing.”
“Holy shit…”
Yunho takes off from the beach without another word. He doesn’t even hear who curses.
Sand kicks up from his feet as he sprints towards you and Yeosang with his heart in his throat and a watery grin on his lips. He doesn’t even need to turn around to know that San is the one on his heels. Yunho knows the sound of San’s muffled sobs just as well as he knows the beat of his heart. Wooyoung is not far behind, a bubble of laughter leaving his lips and a chain missing from his wrist. Nothing binds him to that place anymore. You set him free.
Hongjoong and Mingi chase after the others, and the Captain manages to get some revenge for the day before as he shoves his guard into the surf on the way. Hongjoong’s mirthful chuckles as Mingi shouts are heard when Jongho pulls Seonghwa behind him, urging the archer to move faster.
“Bug!”
Your head pulls from Yeosang’s neck, that toothy grin still on your face just as Yunho collides with you and the honey-haired healer. The two of you sway as Yunho’s weight sinks into your figures, but Yeosang sets an arm down into the sand to support you. The black and white strands of San and Wooyoung’s hair drip with salt water as they throw themselves onto Yunho’s lap with a shout. Mingi follows just after, likely having passed Hongjoong on the beach with the length of his strides. He shakes his wet hair as he clings onto Yunho’s back and Wooyoung complains despite the fact that he’s already soaking wet. The giggly sound of Mingi’s laughter makes you chuckle again.
You laugh, as if it’s as easy as breathing.
Yeosang watches, his eyes welling with happy tears as he continues to cling onto you with one hand. He watches you giggle and the others pile into your space and listens to his new favorite sound.
Gods, he adores you. He adores them – this family.
Yunho is crying, his lip wobbling as he buries his head into your hair. He’s at your back, chest shaking with the sound of his watery sobs.
“Tiny…” he cries, but it’s a happy weep. You reach around to cling onto one of his hands. Yunho squeezes you tight, stealing the air right from your lungs, but you don’t need it. You would happily breathe in the pure euphoria of this moment instead. “Tiny, you’re laughing.”
San buries his wet hair into your lap with a joyful sound and the giggles commence again. The healer’s heart throbs so strongly but so pleasantly he thinks it will burst. You have a laugh that makes others laugh with you. Just like Wooyoung, he realizes.
Your other hand drops from Yeosang’s back to brush through San’s hair once and the healer looks up at you with glimmering half-moon eyes and a dimple poking out of his cheek. You allow your finger to poke the sweet little spot this time. His cheek muscles ache from how big his smile is. San nuzzles closer to your stomach and you let yourself shiver pleasantly, far too happy to deny yourself the joy of this moment.
You’re pretty, San thinks to himself. So pretty. Especially when you laugh.
Wooyoung melts into Hongjoong’s side and the Captain wraps an arm around his shoulder. They stand just behind Yunho, burying their happy tears into each other as Seonghwa pulls them close. Mingi and Jongho sink into the sand behind Yunho and pull each other tight. The taller guard squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips into Jongho’s forehead, desperately hoping all his adoration is conveyed through the kiss. Jongho reaches out to squeeze Yunho’s shoulder and rests his weight against his elder’s back.
“I know,” you finally whisper into the space that separates you and Yunho. “I’m happy.”
One hand lifts to pull the mask away from your face. Without a moment’s hesitation, your nimble fingers detangle the knot from behind you, and you drop the obsidian mask into the sand. A hand wraps around your fingers when you finally let it go. Someone draws a line along the length of your left ring finger and twines their fingers with your own. They squeeze three times.
You repeat the gesture, tracing a finger down the fourth finger on their left hand, right over the thin, dark band you know is tattooed there. You squeeze their hand three times. This sign needs no translation.
You open both eyes.
“I’m so happy.”
bonus:
stranger: so who would you choose; ateez or–
reader: ateez.
stranger: you didn't even let me finish, ateez or–
reader, not missing a beat: ateez. I choose ateez.
a/n: This currently takes place sometime after the main storyline (probably xD) so it accounts for the boys knowing parts of Bug’s past (not revealed but it’s mentioned they know). For now, I won't consider these oneshots canon simply because I won’t know where it fits in the timeline HAHA xD this is essentially just a little bit of fluffy comfort for those who have been missing Bug and the boys! I’m catching up on their story but I hope you enjoy this filler for now <33 ALSO disclaimer, don’t pick stuff out of tide pools! my marine biologist family is screaming at me for including that xD just leave the creatures alone in their habitats!
sorry if bug seems a little ooc here! Loren and I have decided that bug goes from black cat energy to golden retriever after enough time with atz :’))) This is supposed to take place sometime in the future where she’s healed a little more and is a little more curious and open. There are a lot of references to things that have yet to happen in ltm so this is kind of a teaser for those xD
also shoutout to the loml @eightmakesonebraincell for the majority of the ideas in this :D she's a real one xD
taglist: *If you don't see your name on this taglist, you may have been removed if your tag doesn't work :( let me know if you don't see your name and I'll try to see what we can do to fix it :D
@verseoks @smallfrye @istgcyj @rensunjun @flowrsforfun @justchaoticwhispers @gayliljoong @http-lovelyknow @kpopnightingale @rielleluvs @queentiti72 @paralumanniluna @chittaphonstar @dear-dreamie @bangtanxberm @havetaeminforbreakfast @knucklesdeepmingi @pingyu-in-wonderland @5sos-wdw @atzcoke @ddeonghwva @sophxom @khjcoo @sunukissed @becauseiloveyunho @atinymonbebestay @goldenstarmermaid @simplyaghostsworld @multifandomizer @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek @revehosh @mysticfire0435 @side-angel @taestrwbrry @billboard-singer @jenseok17 @parkthothwa8 @jcngh0-hq @dream-in-progress @dees-writing-corner @frankenstein852 @darkdayelixer @ateezkeepmysoul @maruskz @ahhhhhhhhhghh @honeyhotteoks @simeonswhore @jxxngieteez
#ateez x reader#like the moon#poly!ateez x reader#poly ateez#ot8 x reader#ateez au#ateez x oc#poly ateez x reader#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez x female reader#kim hongjoong x reader#park seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#kang yeosang x reader#mingi x reader#choi san x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#ot8 ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez imagine#ateez fanfic#woosan x reader
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Liquid Gold
Frankie Morales x afab!reader || W/C: 2.7k (a oneshot)
Summary: Frankie gets turned on by your love for caramel. (Read a tiny continuation of these two here, titled Comfortable!)
Content/Warnings: Pics above are for aesthetic purposes only. No physical descriptions of reader, everything is neutral. I am in fact a nonbinary girly who describes their coochie with she/her pronouns LMFAO, and both you and Frankie do that here. Feminine pet names (querida, cariño, sweet girl). You also really love caramel - like a lot. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate use of caramel. Food play. Kitchen sex. Hickey/marking kink. Lots of tongue action. Breast worship. Cunnilingus (He's Frankie the munch, what can I say?). Fingering/finger fucking. P in V unprotected sex. Creampie... hint of a breeding kink (I'll be tame with it.. for now..). Frankie, the aftercare KING!! (Please let me know if I've missed anything xoxo.)
A/N: I was eating caramel and apples, and I couldn't stop groaning at the sweetness LMFAOOO I really fucking love caramel. Then I got horny and started thinking about Frankie. Don't we love the ways inspiration strikes? Hope you enjoy my delulus. Much love, my babies.
MASTERLIST || NOTIFS BLOG
“Mmm,” you moan. “So fucking good,” you mutter to yourself, licking the tips of your fingers to clean the residue.
“...Querida?” Frankie calls out from the living room. “What are you, uh…” he pauses to take a deep breath in and out, his cock stirring at the faint lewd noises coming from the kitchen. “What are you doing, baby?”
“Mmm,” you hum again in delight before responding back to him. “Nothing, baby, just grabbing a snack, I’ll be right there,” you say.
Okay, his curiosity is definitely getting the better of him. He rises from his place on the couch, and nothing would prepare him for what his eyes were about to witness.
You’re leaning over the counter, a plate below you with neatly cut apple slices, and you have a bottle of caramel in one hand. Your other hand is placed underneath the spout as you squeeze a dollop onto your finger, the thick liquid running down your digit before you have a chance to stop it. You quickly bring your finger into your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut at the sweetness, another delicious vibration escaping your throat.
Frankie literally has to perch himself against the nearest wall to stop his knees from buckling. He knows how much you love your caramel, but he forgets just how much. The thud of his broad body against the wall is what forces your eyes open.
“Oh,” you gasp with a smile. “Hi, baby. Did you want some?” You ask him, sucking your finger once more for good measure, not wanting to make a mess at your impulse decision of practically drinking the sugary substance from its bottle.
You watch as his eyes track your finger’s movement, his gaze coming back up to linger on your lips for an extra moment. “N-no, that’s okay, querida,” he replies, distracted.
You tilt your head in response, trying to gauge where his thoughts are right now. Then, you look down.
Oh.
He’s thinking with his other head.
You break away from your side of the counter, caramel still in hand, and you make your way in front of him. Putting your body flush against his, you put your free hand on his chest, reaching for his chin with your thumb and forefinger. “You sure you don’t want any, baby?” You ask him, voice teasingly smooth. You nudge his mouth open; his tongue flattening out immediately for you. “Just give it a little try, it’s so sweet.”
You let the caramel dribble onto his tongue, and he retreats the muscle back inside when he thinks you’re done squeezing, but you don’t stop, letting it drip onto his pouty bottom lip. Your thumb is quick to run over it, not giving his tongue a chance to clean the mess you made.
Before he knows it, you’re pulling his mouth into yours, your tongue briefly darting around your thumb before you’re sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, nearly dropping the bottle of caramel with how addicting your senses are being consumed.
His response is just as quick, his arms snaking around your waist and backing you into the edge of the counter, pushing himself deeper into your mouth as your tongues overlap each other. The hand on his jaw is now wrapped tightly in his brown curls, keeping his mouth messily against yours.
You feel his hands tap against the bottom of your ass cheeks, and you take the hint. Settling the bottle down, you pull yourself up on the counter. Finally, the kiss breaks, but now he’s reaching for the hem of your top, flinging it over your head, letting it land only God knows where.
Frankie’s crowding your space, looking down at you, his chocolate brown eyes now pure black with lust. “Can I have another taste, querida?” He rasps into your mouth.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your mind too turned on to register what he’s really asking. His hand is on the bottle instantly, squeezing a thick line of caramel across your naked chest. You choke on your breath at the sensation, your eyes fixated on the golden liquid starting to drip down, nearly reaching your nipples.
Frankie takes a step back to admire his work before he’s diving right in, the caramel bottle tossed back onto the counter as his hands find their home on your ass, pulling your hips into his as you lean back, giving him the space he needs to lick up his mess.
You feel his teeth softly graze the tops of your breasts, Frankie sucking with just the right amount of pressure for pretty little fireworks to ignite across your chest.
“Oh, fuck, Frankie-” you moan, eyes rolling back at the feeling. “Didn’t know- shit- didn’t know caramel is what does it for you,” you say with a weak smirk, your last few words higher in pitch than normal.
“It doesn’t,” he retorts, his tongue flicking across your nipple. “You do,” he growls, reaching for your other candy-glazed nipple.
Between your legs are fucking drenched, and fuck, he feels so good attached to your chest like this, but you need more—she needs more.
You’re yanking Frankie’s curls, pulling him off of you to look into his eyes—wild and desperate, he’s looking at you—his lips and chin glistening with a shine only sugar could provide. Fuck, you want that mouth somewhere else. You tell him as such. A cheeky grin spreads across his face. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says leaning back in, kissing each breast for good luck before he reaches for the caramel once more, letting another thick drop fall down your sternum and belly, daring to drip in places it shouldn’t.
He follows the caramel’s path, open-mouthed kisses surfing down your torso, his tongue not letting any of it go to waste.
The lower he goes, the needier you become. “Please- please, baby- need you,” you heave, your head falling back between your shoulder blades at the overwhelming fire roaring between your legs.
“Paciencia, mi amor,” he whispers, kissing where the hem of your bottoms meets your tummy. “You’ve got me, cariño.”
His fingers reach for your bottoms, pulling them down swiftly as you raise yourself up to make it an easy removal.
Wasting no time, his mouth is kissing hotly on your mound, his tongue swirling your pubic area as your hips buck further into his face. He drags his mouth lower, a shiny trail of his sweet saliva coating every inch of you as he brings your throbbing bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucks—a near pornographic wail reverberates the kitchen walls, your back nearly giving way if it wasn’t for your other hand being planted onto the countertop.
“Jesus- Fuck, Frankie, oh my God, ohmyGod-” you pant, your chest rising and falling at an erratic rate as his mouth never stops its assault on your clit. One of his hands makes their way towards your entrance, Frankie’s two middle fingers surfing through your wetness before he prods inside with ease, his fingers always filling you up in a way your own fingers never could.
He curves his fingers just right, hitting your release button, forcing your floodgates open with absolutely no warning. “F-fuck, fuck! Fuck, baby, I’m cumming, oh, fuck, mmm just like that- shit-”
He pulls his mouth off of you, pulling away just enough to watch as you cream all over his fingers—your caramel dripping down his fingers as his mouth positively waters at the sight. “Jesus, hermosa,” Frankie breathes, his hot breaths fanning across your center sending an aftershock of shivers down your spine.
His fingers come to a halt, slowly slipping out of you as his eyes remain fixated at the sight. “Tan perfecta, mi amor,” he says mindlessly. You watch with bated breath to see what he does next.
He brings his fingers up to his mouth, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head as he licks his fingers clean, practically purring at the way you taste. You whimper at the sight, an entire new wave of arousal leaks from your sex—crying again, for more.
“Frankie,” you whine.
For a second, Frankie genuinely got lost in your taste, forgetting everything around him but the way your flavor sits so addictingly across his taste buds. He could spend forever drinking from you if he could. “Lo siento, cariño, lo siento,” he says, truly apologetic. “You just taste so fucking good, I can’t help myself,” his inflection turning desperate in those last few words. He pulls you in for a kiss, a tinge of your own flavor melting onto your tongue. “How do you want me?” he says softly into your lips.
“Inside, Morales. Please,” you whine into his mouth as you reach for the bulge of his sweatpants, your legs spreading open impossibly more, begging him to end whatever coy teasing game you started. “You already made a mess on me,” you tell him. Bringing your mouth to his ear, you whisper: “Now you need to make another one inside.”
“Oh, fuck, baby,” Frankie groans, throwing his head back to contain himself. When he brings his gaze back down to you, you can see the determination behind his eyes. “That’s what you want, huh? Want me inside you? Want me dripping from you all day, huh, my sweet girl?” He’s yanking his sweats down. He steps closer to you, lips a hair’s width away from each other. “Wanna be filled up with my caramel?” He smirks.
That was the dumbest shit you have ever heard, and your facial expression reveals that, yet it has your pussy clenching on nothing. Of course, Frankie catches it. “Oh, yeah, she does,” he says, running his fingers along your seam before he’s guiding the head of his cock into you.
“Oh, God-” you moan, the girth of him is always a stretch no matter how many times he’s been inside you. “So fucking big- fuck-” your fingers digging into the nape of his neck as he pushes himself to the hilt.
His one arm is wrapped behind you, his hand planted on the counter right where your ass sits to keep you steady as he begins to move—pulling completely out with just the tip at your entrance before slamming back inside, sobs pouring from your lips at the pleasurable plain hitting all the right places. “Fuck- so fucking tight,” he grunts, his vein popping out of his neck with every exertion of his hips. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around me, hermosa, shit-”
“Frankie, p-please. T-touch me, k-kiss me, something, please, baby, I-” you plead, both hands reaching for his face now, grasping for his lips to be on yours.
His mouth slams into yours in a bruising embrace, his mouth immediately latching onto your tongue to lap up the sweetness still laced in your spit. He’s groaning into your mouth, hips moving faster, harder—the wet slick of your pussy getting louder with each thrust, putting you both in a lust-filled haze.
His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers finding your clit, giving you the extra push you need to reach your high. “I feel her fluttering, baby, she’s close,” he mutters against you. “Cum for me, mamita, and I’ll fucking fill you up, baby, come on.”
“Oh, fuck- yes, baby, oh God-!” you’re screaming, eyes clamped shut and head thrown back as you soak his cock, nearly pushing him out of you with the force of your release.
“Mierda- just like that, fuck-” Frankie moans, his chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself from finishing just yet, reveling in the sight of you fall apart around him.
His hips have slowed, giving you a moment of breath, but you’re not having it. Your hips start to move on their own accord, wrapping your legs around Frankie’s waist as you buck your hips into him, whining for him to move, for him to fuck you, for him to-
“Fucking cum inside me, Fish.”
Fish.
That brings him to attention immediately—his hips that were once meeting your every push and pull, now stuttering as his release covers every inch of your walls. You smile wide at the full feeling inside of you even as he begins to soften and slip out of you.
The room is filled with both of your heavy breathing, your gaze stuck on your man as he watches his cum start to leak from your used hole.
“Christ, baby,” he breathes, his fingers collecting the spend dripping out of you only to bring it back to your opening, slowly pushing his fingers inside. Your body, now reaching oversensitivity, jerks at the feeling, a small whimper leaves your mouth. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “Just putting it back where it needs to be,” he tells you with a smirk, your tummy fluttering at his statement.
He’s helping slide you off the counter now, hands gripped tightly on your waist knowing your legs must be pure jelly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, mi amor,” he says softly. “You’re all sticky,” he says in a mock exasperation, as if he wasn’t the reason for this fucking mess.
You slap his chest, rolling your eyes as your feet hit the ground. “If I’m still sticky, it’s because you didn’t do your job properly,” you huff.
He meets your gaze once more, licking his bottom lip before he speaks. “Oh, yeah? Telling me I need to go in one more time?” He asks, leaning in with his tongue out to reach for your chest.
“AGH, NO,” you screech, holding your hands up to keep him away. “Last I checked, I was just trying to eat my apples-” you pause at the realization. “Oh my god, wait!!! My apples!!!” You break from Frankie’s hold, turning to see your plate of sweet, crisp apples—now brown and spoiled. “My apples,” you say softly, your lips jutting out into a frown.
Frankie chuckles behind you, grabbing ahold of your waist as he guides you to the bathroom. “I’ll cut you a new one, sweet girl. Let’s just clean my mess up, yeah?”
“Okay,” you submit.
He runs your favorite soft wash cloth under warm water, adding a drop of your favorite soap to get any stubborn sugar stains. “But, Frankie?”
“Sí, cariño?”
“Leave the mess between my legs.”
“Baby-” he says, slightly concerned not wanting you to get a UTI or anything.
“I’ll go pee,” you cut him off. “Just let me sit in the feeling of you for a little bit. Please?”
“Fine,” he says softly. “But we’re showering after I feed you your apple.”
“After you feed me?” You ask, your cheeks going hot at the tenderness of the gesture.
“Yeah, baby,” he says nonchalantly as he kisses your forehead, wiping around your sensitive center. He hangs the cloth to dry before putting it in the hamper. He grabs one of your favorite comfort shirts from your drawer, putting it on you, before he’s guiding you back to the kitchen.
In the midst of your rabid behavior, neither of you realized that caramel bottle toppled over, long enough for nearly a quarter of the bottle to make its way through.
“MY CARAMEL!” You cry, never wanting to let the universe’s best creation go to waste.
Frankie stifles a laugh, not wanting to upset you but finding your love for caramel so endearing. “Baby, it’s okay, we can buy more,” he comforts, rubbing your back as you freeze at the sight.
“I know,” you say. “I just hate to waste such- such yummy things. This is literally liquid fucking gold,” you add, gesturing to the spilt thick liquid blessing your countertop.
“I thought what was inside of you was your liquid gold?” He says with his soft chocolate puppy eyes, gesturing to your cum-filled pussy.
“Oh my god, Frankie, what-” you start, unsure of whether to laugh or be weirded out at what just came out of his mouth. “Please just cut my apple,” you say defeated, slapping your forehead as your body begins to shake with laughter.
As Frankie peels the skin off your fruit—he knows how much it makes your throat itchy—he mutters something that you couldn’t quite pick up.
“What was that?” You ask again.
“You know I’m right,” he says as he clears his throat, eyes focused on his task. “Your liquid gold isn’t the caramel,” he adds for an unnecessary confirmation.
“Francisco-”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
You stay silent for a moment.
“Shut up.”
He grins triumphantly, squeezing a generous amount of your second favorite liquid gold equivalent all over your juicy apple.
If you enjoyed this, feel free to check out my masterlist or follow my updates blog @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to be notified when new stories come out! I love you all, thank you so much for reading and interacting with me.
Also, please check this post out to see some ways you can educate yourself on how you can help Palestine.
@pedrostories
#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#fic#smut fic#pedrostories#triple frontier fic#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier smut#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x you#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales fanfiction#frankie morales smut#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales#francisco morales x f!reader#francisco morales smut#francisco morales
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Was having some thoughts about Steve joining Hellfire. They are as follows.
I'm thinking maybe they start him off with smaller weekly oneshots. Unbeknownst to Steve they are also still meeting for their regular other campaign, he figures that out later. That Eddie's been writing one shots for him on top of his other bonkers story he's got going and Steve is like "oh 🥺".
BUTTT! during the one shots, all the kids have their moments of being RUDE to Steve. Mike is the worst (cuz I dislike him and his fucking attitude). But everytime one of them is rude to Steve, and it's like legit mean stuff, like them calling him stupid. Things like that. Steve usually kinda gets quiet. And then, whenever the kids do that, Eddie starts making notes in his notebook. Then whoever said the mean thing, their characters die.
Like, Mike gets the worst of it cuz he's just such an ass. But Eddie's got a SYSTEM in these notes okay!!! There are straight tallys, for actually hurtful mean things, there are wiggly tallys for things he can tell are meant to be teasing but that he can tell definitely still kinda hurt Steve a bit. And then there are stars. People get stars for helping Steve along the way.
Be that helping his characters, or just helping him with his math or helping him understand something about the game when Eddie is busy or "distracted". Cuz he legit always notices when people help Steve. Most of the time it's cuz he hears Steve's genuine thank yous. Lucas, and surprisingly Erica, have the most stars, aside from El. Max gets stars sometimes just for back talking Mike's rudes comments with shit like,
"mike what does it matter? we're all about to die anyway. That sphinx is gonna fucking eat us. Who cares. Leave him alone."
Because her and El have of course been invited too. But they've been playing just a LITTLE bit longer so they know a small amount more. El only has stars because she is legit always helpful. Steve has taken to sitting between El and Erica because they're the nicest to him. Lucas usually sits across from him.
Dustin has lots of wiggly tallys cuz he just can't control his mouth sometimes. But one day Mike gets brutally killed again and starts whining about it and Steve has noticed Eddie making little notes. Has no idea what they are. Cuz he doesn't look through other people's notebooks. Thats rude.
Everyone has noticed the notes. No one has asked. They all have theories. And when Eddie is like,
"I'm trying to teach you a lesson. Not my fault you aren't smart enough to figure out what it is." And his voice has such a BITCHY tone when he says it. Because Mike had JUST been hounding Steve for missing "obvious" clues and not being smart enough to figure it out and walking into a trap.
And steve had gone red from his ears all the way down his neck, he also felt bad cuz he'd gotten El's character hurt. And then Mike had been an ass. Steve was upset. So Eddie killed Mike. And then he's whining and Eddie's about to say something else when El speaks up, looks across the table with a scowl and says,
"just be nicer! It's not hard to be nice. Steve is our friend. Be nice to him." And she rolls her eyes at Mike, puts her hand on Steve's arm and is like,
"I will be fine. Will can heal me." And Will pipes up and is like,
"yeah. I can heal her no problem." But it's El's outburst that makes Steve kind of wonder more about the notes Eddie takes.
He'd never ask, and never look. But he stays behind one day to help Eddie clean up, they have weekly games at the community center.
So Steve's staying after and helping with chairs and tables and getting books and dice and things stored away and Eddie's notebook is RIGHT THERE. Open to the page he's always scribbling on. And Steve just sort of... stops. And looks at it. And it's everyone's names with tallys and marks and stars. Erica has wiggly marks AND stars. But mostly stars. Because she helps him with his math almost every game.
Also she "accidentally" let mike get hit with an attack in the game cuz he was being rude. El's is all stars and scrawled under them in Eddie's chicken scratch is,
"She's a literal angel oh my god."
So Steve's eyes are just wandering over this page and his brow is all creased and he doesn't hear Eddie come back until he says,
"figured out what's missing yet?" In that teasing sweet little voice he uses on Steve that makes him feel a little dizzy sometimes, give him butterflies in his stomach, and his whole body jerks and he looks up and Eddie's leaning casually against the wall near the door. And Steve immediately apologizes and Eddie laughs, shakes his head, walks closer. And is like,
"It's okay Steve. But you didn't answer my question." He licks his lips, steps closer. Steve looks back to the notebook for a second and then back to Eddie.
"My names not on there?" He asks, worrying his finger into the table top next to the notebook. And Eddie is nodding.
"Yup." And Steve's like,
"The tallys are about... me?" And he's frowning. But Eddie steps a bit closer, standing next to the table now. And he smiles, all shy and soft and is like,
"yeah Steve. They're about you. Got kinda tired of all the kids talking shit about you. And to you. So I came up with a system. Anyone says anything about you being stupid, I kill them." He grins, wide like the Cheshire cat and Steve feels kinda pinned down by it. Feels kinda hot all over.
"You didn't- have to do that. It's fine. It doesn't bother me. I mean I know I'm not smart." And he just shakes his head and looks at the ground and Eddie kinda slams his hand down on the table, startling him. He looks up and Eddie looks mad. Not at him. Just, mad.
"You're not though. Is the thing. I mean... you're incredibly good at strategy. I know you don't know enough about dnd yet to know this, but you've been a crucial part in winning like, the last three games." Eddie steps closer, his fingertips brushing the back of Steve's hand.
"You're not stupid. You're just smart in different ways." Eddie shrugs. Gives Steve a little lopsided smile.
"You think I'm smart?" He asks, biting his lip to stop the giddy smile that's threatening to spread. Eddie doesn't stop his smile, just lets it go, lets it dimple his cheeks and make Steve's knees weak. And he's like,
"yeah man. Just cuz some jumped up little tweens can't see it doesn't mean I can't. You're kinda hard to miss." He does bite his lip then, fingers playing with his hair, Steve knows he's trying not to hide behind it.
"I just uh-" Eddie clears his throat,
"I'm really petty. And protective. And it's ridiculous cuz you're not even mine but- I just- felt like I had to protect you. Or stick up for you. Or something? I dunno. Feels stupid now that I'm saying it out- oof!" Eddie huffs when Steve slams into him. Arms wrapped around his neck. He may or may not be crying into Eddie's hellfire shirt. But he gives Eddie a squeeze and then pulls back, looks at him, smiles and says,
"I am though." With a little shrug. And Eddie's like,
"you... are?" Confused. And Steve laughs, light and sweet and says,
"Yours. I am yours. If you'll have me. Or want me. Or- mmfph!" Steve's words end in a high pitched hum as Eddie's lips hit his. Just a firm press. His hand on Steve's cheek. He pulls back fast, pink in the cheeks.
"Sorry I just- if you let me have you, Steve. I may never let you go." He chuckles, giddy. Steve snorts, his head falling to Eddie's shoulder for a second before he looks at Eddie, cups his cheek genlty.
"Who says I want you to?" His brows jump, challenging. Eddie goes redder, down to his neck.
"Wanna try that kiss again?" Steve asks.
"God was is bad? I've never- I'm not... good. At that stuff." Eddie cringes. Steve cups both his cheeks until Eddie's wide eyes are staring at him, his cheeks a little squished.
"It wasn't bad. It was kind of perfectly you. But we can get you good at that stuff. You're a fast learner right?" Steve smirks, Eddie's eyes go impossibly wider as he nods aggressively, cheeks squishing even more.
"Yes, sir." Eddie mumbles between his squished lips. Steve nods, once and then moves forward, slowly, determined to show Eddie just how thankful he is for him. How thankful he is that Eddie sees him.
Petty.
And protective.
And Steve's.
#ive never played dnd sorry if stuff sucks#steddie#my writing#mine#my fic#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steddie ficlet#fates endless inkwell#fei
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Yan!Doa and Reader who's two faced—highschool au
Pairing: Nikolai, Fyodor, Sigma x Reader (separate)
Type: Headcanons
Genre: Yandere???
Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, stalking, obsession, invasion of privacy, mentions of blackmail,
Synopsis: The new semester started and a new batch of students come to Yokohama International school after JHS, that included you. However, you caught the attention of the top members of the student council
A/n: I took a break from making your oneshot requests because I'm hesitant to make one where Ranpo has an s/o who uses drugs, mind you I have no knowledge in drugs whatsoever. I literally made this a week before my semester starts.
Fyodor Dostoevsky
He is popular among all the years whether it be the seniors or the juniors.
He was what people call the perfect student.
All his grades are perfect, and he was handsome, he's also the president of the student council
Face of the council
He won many awards throughout every year.
Represents the music club with his cello
Though, he finds praises meaningless, after all they are just empty words.
He saw himself as the saviour of all the pathetic and imperfect humans.
At first he loved how when he walked in the hallways everybody would turn their attention on him and sang praises.
When he sees a new student, his first move is to make an impression(which he thinks as too easy).
He was quiet, he never got involved in trouble, he 'helped' those who asked.
He saw himself as an incarnation of an Angel, the path to salvation from their sins.
But he eventually got bored, then you came in.
He first thought to play you to 'save' you and then, he grew realize that you aren't a simple sinner but something else..
He saw you as his 'equal', and plans to have you one way or another.
Saw your true face while reading a book or smth
He'll make the first move and confront you abt it.
Will blackmail you with that information if needed only you refuse to be his.
Nikolai Gogol
He's mostly loved by the juniors but at the same is weirded out by him.
Most seniors think of him as a laughing stock
He's part of the student and always takes a seat next to Fyodor
(it means that his position is next to Fyodor's, making him the second highest in the student committee)
Which many finds shocking
He is academically gifted, when he's not paying attention and a teacher asks him to solve something, he'll joke abt it first but solves it with no struggles whatsoever.
Probably still a clown
He likes messing with Sigma.
He pranked him while sleeping one time and dear lord everybody knew what he did.
Loves to prank teachers, juniors, senior, anyone, no everyone.
Almost got expelled for a reason nobody knows
Most thinks he bribes the teacher that's why he gets top grades.
Can be smart if he wants to.
You can ALWAYS find him inside detention, the bathroom, or teacher's office.
He would go on measures just to make sure you aren't with anybody else.
Def would use the security cameras to see you.
He saw your true face because of this and he never loved you more. (He hated manipulative people but not you since you aren't manipulating them, kinda??)
Will use the information to his advantage
If you started dating someone, he'll blackmail you.
He loves the way you think and your view of the cruel people around you.
He would play along with your act.
Sigma
He's timid
Many saw him as a sweet individual who's willing to help others
He's loved by all the teachers and juniors because of how kind he is.
Loved by most of the student council.
Def has a lot of junior fangirls
He despises dislikes Nikolai Gogol. He would definitely avoid him.
Manages the complaints of the students or the internal affairs teachers are too lazy to do.
Has to clean up after Nikolai because Fyodor ordered him to.
Knows something is wrong about Fyodor but can't figure out what.
He thinks of you as an innocent angel who he has to protect.
He once saw your true face but thought that it's normal to get angry.
Hates when Nikolai touches you/is around you.
He'd be clenching his fist when monitoring things during break time.
Will never try to hurt you in anyway possible like the other two.
Nikolai's number one prank victim. Some even pity Sigma.
One time in JHS, when he was sleeping his hair had bubblegum in it(Nikolai did it) so Nikolai suggested he cut it.
...he did.. and that's the origin of his bad double bowl cut.
Would treat you to lunch on whatever you want.
Rich.
A/n: I'd make a oneshot/series about this, maybe.? Whichever you guys prefer I guess...
#bungou stray dogs#bsd fanfics#bsd fic#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd x reader#decay of angels x reader#decay of angels#fyodor x y/n#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoevsky#bsd fyodor#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#bungo stray dogs nikolai#nikolai gogol x reader#nikolai gogol#gogol nikolai#nikolai x reader#gogol x reader#bsd gogol#yandere bsd#yandere#sigma bungou stray dogs#bsd sigma#bungo stray dogs#bsd imagines#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x you#bsd headcanons#bsd x you#bsd x gender neutral reader
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nsfw alphabet with ethan?? fem reader preferred <3
A/N: NAH CUZ I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT WHAT IF SOMEONE WOULD REQUEST THIS RIGHT AFTER I POSTED THE GALE ONE. Thank you so much!! also I’ll be definitely looking forward to your oneshots.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Very caring. He isn’t going to sleep with you until you take a shower together and clean each other up, while giving you sloppy kisses. But this might lead to another round…
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Chad literally had to “boost” Ethan’s confidence somehow by complimenting him, so he doesn’t really have a favorite body part.
But he definitely has one when it comes to you. I’d like to think he’s more into thighs and ass.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Ethan loves cumming inside of you (when you’re on birth control) but is also fine with cumming in your mouth. Seeing you swallow it will most likely get him hard all over again.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Has a plenty of dirty pics/videos with you when you were touching yourself, and all of them are saved in one of the folders from his laptop.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He never had a girlfriend before, so everything he knows now is just what he experienced with you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Probably missionary. He loves you clinging onto him while he enters you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He’s quiet and like pretty quiet since he’s shy and doesn’t want to embarass himself in any way. But as long as you’re the one who makes jokes, he will keep going!
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Ethan does have some but not too much.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He’s very gentle at first, sweet kisses and love bites all over your body while he’s inside of you, or, eventually, his fingers doing the job. He can get a bit aggressive but he also calls you a good girl and tells you how good you feel/take him.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He jerks off when he opens his laptop and accidentally clicks on that folder (or on purpose) He just likes seeing you all vulnerable in his bed.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He’s got so many kinks (that I’m probably not even aware of myself) since he used to be a virgin and have never been touched by a woman so he just googled them and saw what it fits for him the most. One of the kinks might be the daddy kink one, he gets hard when you call him daddy out of nowhere or in bed.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
In the living room since it’s more spacious for you to fuck. Or in the bathroom, he will force you to look at yourself in the mirror while doing it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
He gets turned on easily, especially when you walk past him wearing those cute lengerie just for him to see.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He might be a sadist, but he wouldn’t actually be too rough with you since he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way, unless you want to.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Receiving. It’s just that he still doesn’t know much about females organs so he’s scared he will mess things up if he ever tries to eat you out. He watched several porn that contained it, but he knows porn is different from the real life.
However, you get turned on by giving him oral since he pulls your hair and degrades you and whimpers (🧎🏻♀️) when he’s close. It’s a win-win situation.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
As I said, he won’t get rough unless you want him to but usually he’s gentle and pretty slow, he likes taking his time and seeing you turned on and wet just for him. It gives him so much confidence to see that he’s really worth your time (poor guy haven’t dated anyone before you)
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Pretty often if you ask me. You both go to university and you don’t have much time to do anything. However, you wish you had more free time and not use the weekends mostly for sex.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
YEAH, especially when Chad isn’t out with Tara. Chad might be in the kitchen cooking something and Ethan sometimes asks you to let him fuck you while he’s at home but with one condition, holding back your moans. Which you can’t.. but that’s the interesting part!
Talking about other risks, he breeds you and he knows you might get pregnant even with birth control on since the condoms are “out of stock” for y’all 😭 you don’t really use protection. He gets off at the thought of you having his kids. And you probs do too. Fucking weirdos. (hj)
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Many rounds. He can’t get enough of you. If a round you and he think is too short, you’ll go for another one..and another..and the cycle never ends. Till you fall asleep.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He does own a mini vibrator with a remote control. You can’t even imagine how hard he gets when he sees your tired face while he’s overstimulating you with it.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
I wouldn’t call it teasing, neither would he. He just likes taking his time!!
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He does whimper when he’s close and curses, stuff like that. At first he tried to hold in but you told him you get turned on whenever you hear those erotic noises he makes.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Phone sex. That’s it.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
I gotta ask, how could you even take it? he’s like 6’5 and has a 7 inch dick, not to mention he also goes to gym and you fold everytime you see him doing push-ups, let alone doing you in bed. (smash)
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Very high. I don’t know what you’ve expected.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Right after you. But he’s a worried cutie patootie so he might ask you several times if you’re okay!
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Hi! I love your TTN series so much.
I was wondering if you could write a bit more about them, like, reader meets Gwen or Miles (because Hobie already knows them) and maybe reader helps them with their suits or helps them by making something for them. It's okay if you decline this, I didn't know if this counted as a normal request or fluffy friday request, sorry. I really admire your writing, you're really talented.
Take care, you're amazing 🤍
Thank you, lovely! You're too kind 💛 hope u like this one!
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Tags: use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention. TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader. FLUFF
Thread the Needle Masterlist
TTN oneshots Masterlist
ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ
“Oh those are so based, dude!” Gwen exclaims from the floor, her sentence a bit muffled by the chips she's currently munching.
You look up from Miles’ suit that you're currently mending, the spandex slippery to touch. Sitting on the settee with Hobie sitting in-between your legs, you lock eyes with him who's equally confused as you. His head on your lap, eyebrow cocked up in question.
The four of them are sitting in a circle, snacks and sugary sweet drinks in hand. Miles lounges on the foot of the sofa, wearing an outfit you've designed once upon a time in college. You wouldn't let him wear Hobie's clothes, because, well, he looked like he was being eaten by just his shirt, his pants pooling on the floor. After almost tripping and landing smack on his face, you insisted on giving him a Y/N exclusive outfit. A one of one design.
You mentally take note to design clothes for the three of them that perfectly encapsulates their tastes.
Pavitr— who definitely didn't express how jealous he was of Miles’ new outfit, is sitting beside Hobie who is currently taping an ice pack to Pav's head with duct tape (that will definitely have consequences). He got annoyed that the ice pack kept slipping from his friend’s head, landing on his crisps, smooshing its contents.
“Ah, Gwen? What does ‘based’ even mean?” you ask, closing up the last seam.
All three teenagers look at you, then the other two stares at Gwen, waiting and snickering. Hobie leans against you, hand absentmindedly curled around your ankle.
“I keep forgetting you're from the 90s” Gwen cleans her hands with a napkin. “It means, uh, to carry yourself with swagger, yeah! I think…”
Miles and Pavitr guffaw loudly, Miles' soda spilling over the can. The houseboat shakes a bit on the water. You murmur out a ‘swagger?’ still scratching your head for an answer to your previous question.
“Oi! You're spilling everywhere!” Hobie throws a chip at Miles. It hits him on the forehead, leaving sour cream dust on his skin.
“Ack!” Miles mumbles while wiping his forehead. “You used to be cool, man”
“It's our house. I'd like to see you be cool when somebody spills sticky crap on your hardwood floors”
Our house. Even after all these years, Hobie still finds a way to make your heart sing.
You lean forward, placing a chaste kiss on his temple. Fingers kneading the muscles on his shoulder. “It's alright, Hobs. Miles didn't mean it, right Miles?” Hobie visibly relaxes, body melding close to yours.
The spider kids share a knowing look, triple smirks on their lips. Hobie doesn't notice, too busy getting lost in your eyes. You look at him like he's the stars in the sky.
Pavitr sighs, hand on his chin, mumbling about missing someone.
“Yeah, Hobs, I didn't mean it” Miles chuckles throughout the sentence, almost unintelligible with his laughter. Gwen scrunches her nose at her friend.
Meanwhile, you and Hobie are inside your own little bubble. The bubble bursts when the door to the houseboat bursts open with Ned heaving, clutching a stack of papers.
“Hobie! I figured it out—” he stops in his tracks, everyone looks at him, you stop with your barrage of massages. Pavitr pauses mid bite. Ned stares at the room, eyes swimming with questions.
“Who are these children?”
#request done#ttn one shot#thread the needle#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#hobie brown#the kr8tor's creations#x reader#atsv fanfiction#spider punk#spider man across the spider verse#ttn! hobie and reader#cw food mention#hobie fluff#hobie brown x fem!reader#hobie brown x you#spider punk x fem!reader#spider punk x you#hobie x reader#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#atsv hobie
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Sunburns - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
Summary: A beach day goes wrong when someone forgets the sunscreen. [Requested]
Warnings: None, very fluffy with an established relationship. | Words: 1.206k
A/N-> Very, very old request I found. Maybe I even posted this before, but if so, read it again :)
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
--//--
You had a lovely pout - in Wanda's opinion - the rest of the way back to the tower.
After spending hours at the beach on what was supposed to be a decent tourist weekend with the rest of the Avengers, you all were heading home. And because you were born in California and were so used to the sun and didn't have to, in your words, worry about sunscreen like everyone else, you were sitting on the last seat - afraid to move and get anything on your sore skin - looking very much like a shrimp.
Natasha and Tony had spent the whole way with a million puns and teases that made the rest of the car laugh and your frown get worse. Wanda's amusement at your stubbornness turned into something else when she noticed your discomfort at getting up.
Before you could isolate yourself in your room, however, she followed you inside - scarlet magic working in the air to the bathroom, from where towels were soaking with ice water, and healing ointments from the cabinet moved - and ignoring your questioning look, she stole a short kiss on your lips, one hand pushing you sitting up in bed.
"Ouch." You complained softly over the burns, and Wanda retracted her hand with a guilty expression.
"Sorry, baby." She asked, taking her hand to move your hair out of the front of your eyes, stopping between your legs as your hands instinctively landed on her thighs.
"No problem." You assure softly, offering her a gentle smile. The items she asked for floated into the room, and you raised a curious eyebrow. "What's with all this stuff?"
Wanda holds the wet towel in one hand, and the other gropes your skin very gently. " You're hot."
"Thank you?" You tease making her roll her eyes with amusement.
"Your skin, Y/N." She clarifies by moving the item to wet you. The relief is small, but it is appreciated. "You need to cool the burn before giving the medicine. Don't you want to take a cold shower?"
You bite back a smile, your hands going up to her hips.
"Only if you join me." You suggest, lifting your face slightly for Wanda to kiss you. She smiles, meeting your lips but pulls away before you can deepen, and manages a soft grumble.
"I can barely touch you..." She recalls, fingers moving along your ribs until you pull away with a mumble that makes her laugh. "Go, tiger. I'll wait for you."
Half begrudgingly, and stealing as many long kisses as you can, you leave the room for a cold shower.
Wanda is not surprised to hear the loud complaints a while later. She finishes sorting an outfit for you before entering the bathroom, finding you static under the water.
"Aren't you moving?" She comments almost teasingly as she approaches, eyes glittering with amusement. You mumble with your arms crossed and eyes closed, water running down your skin and it's an image that makes Wanda bite her lips.
"I'm fine like this, thank you."
She laughed softly, reaching for a bar of soap. "You need to clean yourself up."
"Everything hurts, and I'm going to stay still forever until it gets better." You retorted stubbornly, finally opening your eyes and finding a smiling Wanda shaking her head in disbelief.
"What a crybaby." She mocks affectionately, face growing close until you meet her halfway, but Wanda only brushes her lips against yours and turns away with a smile, raising the soap between you. "Let me help you."
You grunt automatically, taking a step back. Wanda raises an eyebrow. "Be gentle." You ask and she chuckles softly.
"Of course, baby. Now come on, closer."
With a sigh, you obey. It was an interesting bath, to say the least. Definitely different from the ones you take together - which usually consist of heavy sighs and intimate, bold touches - this one consisted of gentle complaints and mischievous giggles.
But eventually, you were wrapped in a towel on your way to bed, and Wanda was drying her arms as she followed you out.
You appreciated the choice of clothing - and honestly, Wanda did too because she could see so much skin - and had finished dressing when Wanda sat on your lap.
"Hum, hello you." You greeted somewhere in surprise but she giggled, and it was only then that you noticed the ointment in her hands.
"Hold still." She asked as she poured some of the cream on her hands. You sighed, but obeyed, your hands resting on her thighs at the side of your body as she began to rub the ointment over the length of the exposed skin.
You were more than pleased to watch her concentrated expression so closely, counting the nearly invisible freckles she had on her cheeks as her fingers traced your body.
"How many dirty little thoughts you're having, baby." She remarked almost mockingly, eyes meeting yours for only a second before she touched a particularly sensitive spot that made you grunt in pain.
"I'm sorry, but can you really blame me?" You retort, applying gentle pressure to her thighs. "Such a beautiful girl on my lap and running her hands all over my body? My imagination flies."
Wanda giggles, a soft pink appearing on her cheeks. "I could have done this sooner. With the sunscreen, if you weren't so stubborn..."
You let out an exclamation of false disbelief: "What? I could have had this before? My god, regret is bitter." You state playfully making her laugh. Her mistake is to throw her head back as the exposed neck in front of you is enough for you to firm your grip on her thighs and move forward, soft kisses making her laugh harder with the tickling.
But Wanda sighs as she gets used to it, the more precise pressure making her blink heavily before she remembers what she was doing. Biting back a mischievous grin, she pokes your ribs and you pull away with a loud grunt.
"Babe!" You complain about the pain, but she laughs, stealing a quick kiss before raising a finger in warning.
"Behave yourself, Y/N." She says. "Let me finish or it might get infected."
With a sigh of defeat, you nod in understanding. She smiles, going back to rubbing ointments on the reddest spots.
"Let me see your back." She asks as she gets off your lap, and you sigh softly as you move to lie on your belly. You let out an appreciative sigh as Wanda sits on you.
"My my, this is getting interesting." You comment closing your eyes and Wanda chuckles.
"You're the worst." She comments as she works with the burns on your back.
"But you love me." You retort back, and she smiles, leaning her face in until her mouth is at the height of your ear.
"I really do, very much so." She assures sweetly, kissing your cheek before pulling away. You smile, but you had downplayed your tiredness from the day at the beach. After a few seconds of lying on the soft bed with Wanda drawing patterns on your back, you are practically asleep.
She smiles warmly as she notices, and unhurriedly finishes off the ointment until your breathing grows deep.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff oneshots#elizabeth olsen x reader#marvel imagines
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Hi, first time really asking anyone a request. But thought I’d see.
I’m not sure if you do song fics, but I was listening to maroon by Taylor Swift and I though it would be good for a Larissa or Miranda fic. It’s up to you how angsty or fluffy to go if you would like to do it. Thank you 😁
Maroon
Larissa Weems x Reader
The rise and fall of your love.
Author’s Note: This was so cute! Definitely a tiny angsty oneshot. Thank you so much for the request anon!!
The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me
You should have been looking where you were going, but then again, if you would have never spilled your wine, then you never would have met her.
Bright blues eyes staring down at you, filled with shock at the burgundy that stained her dress.
Her pretty smile turned down into a frown.
You apologized profusely and wiped at her chest with the napkin in your hand. Embarrassment filled your form as you felt your cheeks flushing red. It took you a few seconds to realize the precariousness of your hand placement.
“Oh, dear.” The platinum blonde muttered, watching your hands work fervently at the stain. She reached out, taking your hands by the wrists and holding them still. “It’s really okay, I promise.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can pay to get it cleaned.” You felt so guilty as you observed the bright stain across the beautiful woman’s front.
She released your hands and pulled a kerchief from her clutch, beginning to dab at the stain. Without thinking, you pull the piece of fabric from her hand, dabbing at the mark frantically to stain the once white kerchief maroon.
The platinum blonde crouched a bit, catching your gaze with a smirk playing on her lips, “It’s really okay. My dry cleaners will take care of it, but maybe you would be kind enough for me to hold onto your jacket to keep it covered.”
“S-sure…” You muttered, tripping over yourself to pull the jacket from your body to hand it over to the blonde.
And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was
Larissa looked away from you, her cheeks flushing so deep the red traveled to her ears.
Her reaction only pushed you to compliment her further. You took her hand in yours, kissing its back before moving down to kiss her fingers, “You are so, so beautiful… I’m so happy I nearly ruined your dress, or else I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“And to think it only took a single glass of wasted wine.” Larissa cooed and pulled herself together. She took advantage of her hand in yours, pulling herself a step closer to loom over you.
Her beauty was suffocating. The confidence that once filled your chest evaporated and you were left staring up at her weakly. You were desperate for her affection.
Her lips dipped by your ear as her hands found your hips, guiding you backwards until your back hit her front door. Larissa’s pressed two kisses on your cheek, near your ear before speaking, “Would you like to come inside?”
Now it was you who was blushing.
It took you a moment to respond. Her hands squeezed your sides and her teeth found your earlobe, “Please…”
In a flash, her body was flush against yours, one of her hands sliding up to hold you by the back of your neck. Larissa’s lips shifted from your cheek to your jaw, all the way down to your neck. Her lipstick was smeared and your skin was stained by the bright red tint.
You don’t remember when you got inside, but once you were, the flames of your desire burned brighter than ever. And for a moment, you could have sworn it was true love.
The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones
You traced the bruise on your collarbone lazily as you tapped your phone screen. She had left it behind the last time you saw her. It had been days since you last spoke. You looked to see if Larissa had messaged you for what felt like the millionth time that day.
She said she would call, or at least… that’s what you thought she said.
You tried to give her some time, assuming she was just busy. For weeks you texted or talked on the phone for hours, but now you could barely get a text back. Three texts over three days sat in your messages, the ‘delivered’ icon mocking you as it sat underneath the bottommost message.
Was she ghosting you? Trying to figure out a way to let you down easily?
Two more days passed of radio silence and you began to grow bitter.
You had opened yourself up to her.
Hours spent impassioned in her bedroom. Late nights spent with one another sipping wine and enjoying boxes of take out. Her long legs draped over your lap as you watched a television show together. All the lunches you spent in her office while you sandwiches got cold after Larissa pulled you into her lap.
You became so familiar with her life and routine. From all the love you shared, you thought it was all preambling this life changing romance. Your passion burned so bright, and you assumed it would all last forever. You really thought you and Larissa were meant to be.
The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon
Sometimes you would see her in passing, eyes glued to her scarlet lips. From the corner of your eye, you would observe her as you sipped your coffee. Watching as she purposefully turned her head away, not wanting to see your scorned gaze.
She had eventually explained herself. Calling to tell you that she wasn’t ready for what you had to offer. You hadn’t cried on the phone - all of your tears had been wasted long before she offered you the explanation. By the time you talked it through, the pain was numbed enough that you hadn’t pleaded with Larissa to work it all out. It wasn’t worth the effort, you told yourself. You suspected it would have just opened you up to more heartache.
Now as you watched her pass through the Weathervane, it all made sense. Larissa Weems was scared of being loved, and that’s why she made it a point to pull away when you got so close. The shapeshifter believed she was better off alone - that her future success depended on it.
In a way you would always cherish all the sweet kisses from those scarlet lips. You would never admit it, but you still had that wine-stained handkerchief in your bag. You kept it as a token of what was. It wasn’t often you had the privilege of loving someone so beautiful.
Your love with Larissa Weems burned as bright as that lipstick.
The flames were fanned until they burned you both.
Now the pieces left behind were all maroon.
Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife , @smutuniversesblog , @opheliauniverse, @teashock , @enchantressb , @alex-nyx , @renravens , @whenyouhaveanobsession , @scream-queenlover , @shyladyfan, @lilfartbox1, @rubberduckiesbathing , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems , @sicklygrlsicklygrl , @lvinhs , @myzzjolanda , @principal-weems09 , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @dumbasslesbi , @oculusalien , @sweetderacine , @giogwensversion , @milciak , @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @mysaviorfalsegod , @h-doodles , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 , @bychrissi, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic, @kimiinou, @hiiamkatana, @mountain-bikingwitch, @willowshadenox, @aemilia19, @mommyslittlebaby, @agathaandgwenslesbian, @gay-frogs08
#gwendoline christie#larissa weems#fanfic#wednesday netflix#larissa weems x reader#oneshot#gwen christie#principal larissa weems#principal weems
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Ahhhh that Jason fic was so good! I loved how you write him so stern and caring!
I was wondering if you could do another Jason fic where reader is sort of working herself weary, maybe she feels like she has something to prove especially with how powerful everyone is so she’s been volunteering for watches and missions and helping hedge and just everything she can around the ship and she starts to crack a bit so everyone tries to get her to take a break but she’s super stubborn and no one can except Jason on like his third try she finally gives in and rests?
(Like when he told Hazel to eat in your last fic, sort of that vibe it makes me weak in the knees!)
Overworked, Underappreciated (by the gods)
pairing: jason x gf!ares!reader
summary: Jason notices you're overworking yourself again, and despite him and everyone on the Argo II trying to tell you to take a break, you never really sit your ass down until he finally convinces you to do so.
genre: angst/comfort
wc: 2.6k
warning/s: cursing, fem reader, she/her pronouns, overworking, jason being stern, stubborn reader, mmm godly father issues, breakdown
note: thank you for your request anon!! i hope it's fine that i made this one kind of a continuation of this oneshot, but it can be read seperately. enjoy!
oneshot under the cut :: not edited
Jason always admired your hard work and determination.
Sure, you were constantly aggressive about it and telling everyone to fuck off if they complimented you on that, he still considered it one of the countless things that he loved about you.
But of course, there were times where that hard work and determination would lead to something unmanageable, like your tendency to overwork yourself.
You were an expert at hiding it, but Jason knew that beneath your tough and angry exterior, you always felt like you weren't giving enough despite giving a little too much already. You were a daughter of Ares, and your godly lineage didn't grant you much except for anger issues.
You weren't as good with weapons as your siblings. You definitely weren't as good at anything as Clarisse, your half-sister and your dad's favorite kid. Actually, all your other brothers and sisters had at least some sign that Ares acknowledged their existence. You on the other hand got nothing except that you could reach your boiling point seven times faster than the average person.
They have to thank Jason for being there to calm you down, because they all don't just feel like, but they know that if he wasn't with them, the ship would have sunk two days in the water or air.
They never really expected you to be the type to give all — and I mean, all your energy into whatever you need to do.
Replacing the ripped sails after a battle with some pirates? Step back. If not, you'd just push any one of them out of the way and grab the new sails from them and replace it on your own. Frank was a constant victim, despite being the burliest of them.
A large tentacle wrapped around the ship? They don't dare to think about chopping it into pieces before you came in, sword weaving through the monster like it was made of clay. Percy steps out from below decks to give the monster a little chat but slips on the blood it left in its wake.
Zeus/Jupiter decided to fuck around with them and send a lightning bolt striking almost right beside Percy? You'd immediately push him into the nearest demigod's arms and put out the fire yourself before the water boy could even process what was happening.
Even the simplest tasks around the Argo II, like cleaning the stables, rearranging the medbay, cleaning up the kitchen either after a meal or after the ship was constantly swaying and made a mess of fallen plates and food, you'd curse someone out just for trying to grab a broom or open their mouth to tell you that they can do it instead.
Jason was no exception to this treatment, and he didn't expect to be; he just wanted to make sure that you knew your limits as well as he did.
"You're low on medical equipment," Hedge grunted, stepping into the small dining room one afternoon while everyone was eating lunch. "I'm gonna go restock it."
Today was a slow day for the eight demigods, and they were grateful for it. All they had to do was the usual chores before they could chill anywhere on the ship.
Which is why no one was surprised you were the one who wanted to break the mundane routine. "I'll go with you," you huffed, standing up with your plate in your hands, maneuvering around the short half goat man to put the dirty dish in the sink. "I'll make sure your stupid fur brains doesn't get the wrong shit."
"Us satyrs are damn good healers, mind you!" Hedge bleated angrily.
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah with colored leaves and rituals and shit."
Before Hedge could retaliate, Annabeth stepped into the conversation. "You should rest today. I can go with Hedge and help him pick out the right items."
"No need, Brains," You shot her down. "I can do this. Are you suggesting otherwise?" Your voice raised threateningly, making Annabeth raise her hands in surrender.
"No, but I —"
"Good." You turned back to Hedge. "Let's go before you get more dirt on floor I just mopped, old man."
You left the room without waiting for the satyr to follow. Hedge muttered colorful insults under his breath, moving to exit the dining as well before Jason stopped him by asking, "Coach, can you watch over her? She's been working constantly these past few weeks, and she hasn't really caught a break."
Hedge rose an eyebrow. "Can't you do that yourself? Aren't you her boyfriend or something?"
"I tried, but it's hard to convince her," Jason sighed, leaning back in his chair exhaustedly. "Just — look out for her, yeah? And don't tell her I told you."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Hedge waved him off. "It'll be my head."
The coach left without another word.
"I'm worried about her," Percy confessed, Frank and Piper nodding in agreement. "I tried asking her if she needed help yesterday, and she almost bit my head off."
"And you would've thought that she'd learn by now to stop herself when she starts to overwork again," Leo commented.
Hazel sighed. "If she doesn't give herself time to recharge, she's going to shut down."
Jason simply played around with his leftover food, deep in thought. "Yeah..."
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Thank the gods you returned without any issues besides the usual profanities exchanged between you and Hedge. He left soon after that, claiming that he had "business elsewhere," and said that they should get going on their journey without him.
They left the day after that. They knew he'd make his way back to camp eventually.
The streak of calm continued, even as the Argo II departed from the sea and launched into the air. There weren't as much monsters that showed up to annoy them like flies hovering in their ears.
You and Jason were on watch that night. Thankfully, there wasn't much of a threat in the clouds, so Jason just sat down on a random crate while you paced around, playing with the straps of your leather breastplate.
"Hey, you can sit down for a while," Jason said, watching you go to and from the large wooden post in the middle.
You scowled at him in response. "We're supposed to be on watch. If we relax, we fall asleep. If we fall asleep, monsters attack. If monsters attack, the others could get swept up in that shit knowing how stupid they are."
Your concern for your other crewmates was evident despite how much you tried to hide it by insulting their abilities.
"Sweetheart, its okay," Jason said, still trying to convince you. He wasn't feeling all that tired, which is why he could cover for the both of you. You, on the other hand, looked like you were going insane, the dark half-circles under your eyes apparent even in the weak and diluted moonlight. "You can for now. I promise I'll wake —"
"I can't rest!" Your voice cracked slightly as you whipped around to face him, your eyes wide with a wildness that caught Jason off guard and made him stand up in concern. "I... I just can't..."
You tried to walk away, but your knees collapsed from below you. "Woah careful!"
In a flash, your boyfriend was by your side, barely being able to catch you before you could fully crumple to the ground. "Easy, easy..."
He tried to put your arm around his shoulders so he could lead you to sit down on another crate, but you pushed yourself away from him. Being unable to support yourself, you fell down on your ass.
"What are you doing?" Jason asked, moving to approach you, but you put up your hand to stop him.
"Fuck off, I don't need help," you said, trying to sound angry, but all Jason could hear was your exhaustion.
"Hey, stop being stubborn," Jason frowned, stepping towards you and putting your arm around his shoulders successfully this time, despite your protests and your struggles to get out of his iron grip.
"Fine, just — just put me down there," You gestured to the crate he was sitting on previously. He was originally going to bring you down to your room, but judging from the glance you gave him from the corner of your eye, you could still snap his arm in half if you wanted to.
And so, he obliged, making sure that your feet barely touched the ground as he basically carried you to your destination. He gently set you on the crate, making sure to stand close in front of you so that you wouldn't try to bolt.
"Explain," he said, crossing his arms and peering down at you. You turned your head away from his gaze, and he realized how vulnerable you looked: your eyes were darting around in a desperate attempt to stay alert, but they constantly glazed over, unfocused. Your hands were now fiddling with the strings of your hoodie, their movements slow and groggy. Your upper body was even swaying.
"I..." You started, but sighed and looked up at him. "It's stupid."
Jason's brows furrowed even more at your dismissal. "You almost collapsed from exhaustion. There has to be at least a valid reason for you to compromise your health like that."
You wanted to clamp your jaw shut, but Jason's intense glare made you open your mouth and speak. "You want to know? Fine, I'll tell you. Everyone relies on me — besides Twitchy Fingers — to do what is needed to keep this ship afloat by making sure it doesn't get completely destroyed by the Tartarus-spawn. Every time someone tries to do my job for me, I don't want them to because what if they fuck up and something bad happens? That's gonna be my fuck-up too. I —" You looked away again. "I just can't relax knowing that some bad shit might happen and it'll be my fault."
"I think you're underestimating how well the rest of us can do," Jason said lightly, chuckling a little as he tried to make lift the atmosphere up a little. It didn't work. "We can't do as well as you, of course, but we can manage."
"Oh please, I know damn well how good the rest of you are," You hissed, catching Jason off guard with the anger behind your words. "You all got your own skill sets that your godly parents planted in you that you got to fucking nurture. Even Annabeth, who doesn't have any actual powers, is more of a smartass than all of us combined."
Jason opened his mouth to retaliate, to say that you're downgrading yourself too much, but you didn't let him speak as your voice rose. "And what in the Tartarus did I get from my shitty dad? Fuckin' — fuckin' anger issues, that's what I got. Everything I'm good at — my fighting, my speed, everything — I did that. Ares gave me none of that. That was all me.
"And the moment I thought he'd actually look at me, that he'd acknowledge that I was his kid besides when he claimed me seven months after I came into camp," Your voice got louder still, cracking a little as your eyes got mistier, "is to pay a little visit to Frank in his Roman counterpart."
You stood up now, your body fueled with anger and frustration and other emotions that can't be described. "You wanna know the real reason why I work myself to the brink of exhaustion every time I do what I do, Jason?" Your smile looked maniacal. The few tears that escaped the confines of your lashes didn't really help. "It's because I don't fucking deserve to stand among you. I don't deserve to be on this quest. I don't deserve to be called a 'hero' when we return home as your godly parents shower you with love and attention while mine just thinks 'oh, my kid survived? I had a kid involved?'"
Your body was shaking, but you were done. You fell back down on the crate, holding your head in your hands.
Jason blinked, processing your breakdown. His own chest was contracting painfully as the weight of your words settled in his brain and his heart.
You were feeling this the entire time? Why didn't you say anything?
Your body flinched as you tried to contain a sob, snapping Jason back to reality.
He sat down beside you and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. "Oh sweetheart," he sighed sympathetically. "It's okay to cry. Cry as hard as you need."
Jason expected you to push him off of you again, to tell him to not be stupid and to try and bottle your emotions up again. He hoped you wouldn't.
And you didn't. Instead. you took your face out of your hands and planted it on his shoulder, your own shoulder shaking terribly from your suppressed sobs. "Let it out," he cooed, and you didn't hesitate to drown your sobs on the fabric of his t-shirt, subconsciously moving even closer to his body.
He wrapped both his arms around you as he fixed his position, his upper body now almost fully facing you to give you more comforting hug.
He stroked the back of your head and whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you let all your pent-up anger, frustration, disappointment, and just overall sadness. He even planted light kisses over the parts of you that he could reach; your neck, cheek, temple, crown.
It took you a little while for your sobs to turn into little hiccups, but eventually, you were able to calm down. Jason didn't mind that his shoulder was soaked from your tears. He didn't mind that his spine was stiff from being in a slightly uncomfortable position for a period of time. He didn't mind that you were feeling weak and stupid.
Because even after all that, he still saw you as the strongest and most powerful person he knew.
"What about we go back to my room and rest?" Jason suggested softly. You lifted your head in protest, but Jason pushed it back down to his chest. "I'm sure Hazel and Frank are having trouble sleeping from the good nap they had earlier. They can cover for us."
"I don't want to burden them," You said weakly.
Jason immediately shook his head. "You're a burden to no one on this ship, okay? They won't mind. And besides, it's not weak to ask for a little help once in a while. No one thinks you're weak."
You looked up at him. "You sure?"
Jason nodded, smiling softly. "Absolutely. From what I can see, you're the strongest person here."
You raise an eyebrow. "You sure there's no bias there?"
"Yes I'm 100% sure," Jason said seriously, before breaking into a smile when a breathy laugh escaped your lips. You don't do it often, but Jason loved your laughs. They were always genuine, and Jason would do anything to make you laugh again.
"So, what do you say? Let's go to my dorm," Jason said, supporting you when he felt you moving to stand up.
"You better not do anything weird to me, Grace," you threatened, but there was no heat behind your words.
Jason smiled softly, leading you back below decks. "Never."
He left you in the dorm before he went to convince Hazel and Frank to cover their shift, promising that he'll make up for it. They didn't care. They were just happy that you were finally resting.
Once the blonde boy returned, he found that you were already curled up under the sheets, face relaxed and breaths coming out of you evenly. His eyes softened fondly at your peaceful and stress-free features.
He flipped the light switches, blanketing his room in darkness as he navigated under the sheets to join you. He gathered you up in his arms and curled against you, sighing in content.
"Good night, sweetheart," he whispered against your head, placing a small kiss on the back of it as he felt sleep slowly invade his vision. "I love you."
#jason grace#jason grace x reader#hoo#heroes of olympus#heroes of olympus x reader#percyverse#leo valdez#hazel levesque#frank zhang#percy jackson#annabeth chase#piper mclean#coach hedge
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Pillow Promises
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(A Reader x Jan Stevens Oneshot) (Fluffy, tiniest bit Angsty, tiniest bit toxic, good ending)
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The room is bathed in a soft pink and orange glow; keeping the pleasurable haze alive and real.
Your heart still pounds from earlier activities, only slowing when Jan nuzzles closer and puts her satin-covered head on your shoulder. The dull point of one bunny ear brushes against your neck, wedged between you and the bed’s headboard, and you force down a shiver at the ticklish feeling.
She’s so close and warm it’s a wonder how you haven’t fallen asleep yet. The book in your hands isn’t even that interesting - not when she’s next to you. Looking as sweet as she is, cheeks still flushed with blush and mouth still stained with lipstick. You got up after to grab a washcloth and clean the two of you off, but she took it for herself and insisted she do it on her own. She didn’t do a very good job, but that was fine. Jan Stevens, for as put together as she is, doesn’t really mind mess. Not when it can be tidied. And washed.
Though if you could keep the evidence of your eroticism on your body forever, you would. The lipstick, the sweat, the stains and the sex, all of it - you’d keep it all.
But you can’t.
So you relax into the pillow behind you with a soft sigh and listen to her breathing while the tiny words on the page take you somewhere else. Jan is probably reading too you think, so you linger on each page before turning - allowing her to catch up even if she’s not really paying attention.
When she speaks a few minutes later, you realize there’s definitely been something else on her mind.
“Why don’t you move into my room permanently? For the rest of the session?” Her voice is smooth honey in your ear, only slightly hoarse from her earlier moaning, but it’s tinged with hesitation. Worry. A soft placating tone like she’s coaxing you into it but isn’t sure if you’ll agree or not.
But that’s silly. Of course you’ll agree. It’s nearly a bloody honor if not exactly that.
“Uh ye-yes. Yeah. Sure. If you... want me to?” The nervousness is normal around your lover - you’ve learned to deal with it - but still, you ask. Even though she proposed the idea. Moving into her room was a big thing. And the session was nearly over anyway. The group would go on tour and you’d be released back into the wild, your pockets heavier with cash, and a new fresh view on life. On cooking. On sound in general.
So there’s no harm, is there?
No.
No, you’ll stay for the remainder of everything and then you’ll… leave. Somehow. Someway. You’ll leave.
You’ll do as the rest will do and pack your few belongings and say goodbye to the doctor and the tech assistant and the gardeners and the rich people and the caterers themselves and then finally, to Jan Stevens. You’ll say goodbye and you’ll leave her. Her and her beautiful room and her strange bunny pajamas and her fascinating way of speaking and her interesting understanding and misunderstanding of art. You’ll leave behind her dark eye makeup and her fashion sense and the click of her heels and the swinging pendulum of her emotions and you’ll leave behind all of the million fires she lights in you.
You’ll do that.
And you’ll be fine.
How? You don’t know. You don’t know at all. But you’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. You just have to enjoy what you have as you have it - and what you have right now is a wonderful one-of-a-kind woman, a Jan Stevens, sitting up and looking at you with a wide awed smile and sparkling eyes. Excitement is spelled across her handsome face. Sometimes you forget you can kiss her in moments like these.
“Yes,” she says, her hands reaching up to glide the book out of your fingers and push it onto the floor on her side of the bed, not bothering to save your place (and not really caring either) as she grasps your palms. “Yes! Yes, I want you to. Why else would I ask, silly thing?” And she likes to call you that. Silly thing, pretty thing, dumb little thing, darling thing. Always her thing. Always her little pet.
It’s a tiny bit concerning- how much sway she has over you- but when she’s clenching your hands in her own and intertwining your fingers and getting so close that the tips of your noses nearly touch, you can’t really help but find yourself falling even more. All for her, naturally. A Jan Stevens devotee. It’s kind of cute. And she seems to love it, and it doesn’t hurt you, so why should you mind? You’re not one of the caterers; your relationship doesn’t affect their art. They can play with their sounds and their food and you can play with your employer and everybody wins. Especially when you get to return to the warm comfort of her bed every night, safe from the cold brisk air of autumn and in lovely company while she explains the different aspects of her art degree with you.
It’s a very real form of Nirvana. And you’re so lucky to have it.
Her big smile makes you shy - and you find yourself looking away, past her shoulder, before bringing her closer by your connected hands and pressing your forehead into the crook of her neck.
“I dunno,” you reply, muffled and content, while she squeezes your palms in a comforting rhythm. “How long have you been thinking about asking me?” You don’t talk about feelings all that often, but you know Jan well enough to understand that she allows uncertantities to ruminate within her thoughts. For far too long. So asking is only a polite way of reminding her that she can be open with you - as that’s the best way to keep things healthy.
But whether or not she cares for healthy is something you have yet to figure out.
“Since that first night,” Jan breathes, successfully distracting you when she lets your hands slide away and replaces her empty palms with the soft strands of your hair. “I kept wishing you’d come earlier - but I know we agreed you had to wait until they fell asleep.”
You nod into her shoulder, taking a moment to breathe deeply and swim happily in the tender scent of her fresh laundry and floral cologne as you soak in her words. Since that first night. How long ago was that? Only a few weeks. Every evening since, you’ve been sneaking across the lawn and entering through the back door; greeting her in the hall with a sinful smile mirrored on both of your faces. It’s an exhilarating feeling, sneaking about like that, but being invited to her room, to stay there, would make things easier. You wouldn’t have to worry about waking anyone, or rushing out in the morning. You could even stay for breakfast with her….. you could even eat at the table in the kitchen and talk about whatever dreams you had the night before.
A wistful smile draws across your lips.
“…it’ll be nice,” Jan continues, soft and gentle. “We can spend more time here without worries. For as long as we want.”
You give her another nod, and try to ignore the tiniest trip of your heart. As long as we want.
Oh if only that were the case.
If only you could stay forever.
But if Jan didn’t wish it, it wouldn’t happen. No matter how much you longed for it. No matter how many nights you spent awake next to her, listening to her soft breaths, feeling the way she kicks in her sleep, your dreaming wouldn’t pay off. Jan Stevens calls the shots. And you’re just the pet who listens. The pet who yearns.
Though really…. Really you can’t help yourself. Really you can’t control what you feel. Really you can’t stop your own body from betraying you as your lips fall open and your tone speaks into the soft fabric of her pajamas and says
“As long as we want?”
It’s so soft, so barely there, that you figure she may not have heard it.
But despite her ears being covered, she knows. She hears. And so the gentle stroking hand in your hair slows, and you try not to resist the urge to pull back and stumble out of the bed and run far far away.
“I-” she starts, then stops, and you’re too busy trying to control your own heart and hide in the space of her neck that you can’t notice the surprised expression on her face. You sound hopeful. Why do you sound hopeful? Do you mean… do you… no. Well. Maybe? Jan blinks, then resumes the playing of your hair. “…The session ends in two weeks. What are your plans?”
To stay, I hope.
“I don’t know.” You don’t mean to sound so desperate and lost, but it’s the truth. You can probably get some good money off of the book that you’re writing about the Institute, and that’s just on the side of the journalism that got you into the gig in the first place. So you do have options - but none of them include the plush comfort of Jan Stevens’s body. And that’s a shame. What a shitty future. You can’t imagine finding any true happiness there; sparing the moments in which you think about Jan of course. Most thoughts about her bring you happiness.
The dull warning of being domesticated rings out like a siren in the back of your mind, but you leave it be. Domestication and devotion are sometimes good. They certainly feel that way.
Jan starts to push pieces of hair back behind your ears - and you take a moment to distract yourself and return the gentle affection by reaching up to one of the floppy ears by her head and playing with the loose fabric. An amused smile pulls at her stained lips, but her eyes are trained on the side of your face. Oddly vulnerable and oddly open and suddenly you think that maybe somehow your dream will come true.
And the gods must hear you.
“Well you don’t have to tour with them,” she murmurs.
You nod.
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“Mm. And the Institute’s been looking for an official documenter for some time now…”
That’s true. It has been. Even since before her, the owners through the years have tried time and time again to find someone to stay for records sake - in a similar fashion to the doctor. Someone who can handle the… oddities. And the changing personalities and the recruitment process and the pressure and the rules and now, above all else, the intensity that was Jan Stevens. Someone who can listen and obey and be utterly loyal, which is not like the doctor, but is instead one of Jan’s personal preferences. You’ve tried for so long not to allow yourself to even dream of getting that position; surely sleeping with the boss wasn’t a good idea for such a long term commitment. But no. Jan almost seems to… disagree?
You nod again, slow and unsure of where she’s going with this.
“That is… also true.”
“Mhm,” she hums, “and I can also do with some… daily excitement.” On that note, the hand in your hair tightens- and your head is suddenly being wrenched back. You meet smoldering blue eyes and stained lips and bunny ears and beauty beauty beauty oh so handsome beauty. Her breath warms your face you’re so close. “Can’t you?” Jan coos.
“Y-yes. I can do with- yes,” you agree, a little lost because your brain’s fizzled out in the face of her brazen mood. But she doesn’t seem to mind - and instead, she grins.
“So is that a yes?”
You blink.
“A yes?”
“You’ll stay?”
Oh.
Oh!
Jan is looking at you as though you’ve just told her she’ll never have to be lonely again. Which, honestly, in much fewer words, you have.
She’s told you in the past, on lust-drunk nights in the dark, that she doesn’t like loneliness. That the orgies are unentertaining and that at least one other lover in the past ruined her hopes and dreams of having anyone at all. Being as she is doesn’t really help either. She understands she’s eclectic. Not everyone’s cup of scalding hot tea. But at the same time, she meets caterers who could understand her. Who could love her. If only she wasn’t the boss. If only they wanted to love her more than their careers.
Do you love her more than your career?
Your eyes trace the lines of her face, right up to each curved edge of the satin bunny costume. Over the hills of her cheeks and tiny flaws in her lips and deep black of her eyeshadow and proud bridge of her nose and you find… you find… you find………
…you find her smile to be beautiful.
And worth seeing.
Each day.
Everyday.
For as long as she’ll have you.
Whether that’s for the rest of your lives or less.
“Yes,” you say, “yes, of course I’ll stay with you Jan Stevens.”
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Digging my claws into fluff so no one thinks I’m a heartless deranged animal who can only write smut and angst (even though that is the very truth) - Rip x
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#rippersz#fanfictionwriter#fanfiction#fanfic#jan stevens#jan stevens x reader#jan stevens flux gourmet#flux gourmet#Gwendoline Christie#Gwendoline Christie Jan Stevens#jan Stevens x you#jan Stevens x y/n#fluffy#fluffy fic
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Team Sport
A Drarry microfic//oneshot by mono-chromia
Cover illustration by my beloved @basiatlu (alternate versions can be viewed here)
Word count: 1.015
Read under the cut, or on AO3
Draco hadn't understood, but as he comes to find out, Hermione's words had made perfect sense. Harry Potter makes a sport out of sleeping; commiting to a nap the same way he does to a game of Quidditch.
'Mione had once called Harry a "hard sleeper", whatever that may be.
"A heavy sleeper?" Draco had asked, unsure if he was missing some muggle turn of phrase. It comes up when they are trying to figure out the sleeping arrangements in the shared hotel rooms for Luna and Neville's destination wedding.
"Oh, no," she says. "Well, that too, I suppose, so he won't mind if you get back late, but he sleeps hard. I can't quite explain it." Draco doesn't mention the undiscussed assumption that he and Harry are apparently to bunk up together. "You know how he always tries to carry all the plates and cutlery to the table in a single go? Even if there's sixteen people dining?" Draco nods. "It's kind of like that."
Draco hadn't understood, but as he comes to find out, Hermione's words had made perfect sense. Harry Potter makes a sport out of sleeping; commiting to a nap the same way he does to a game of Quidditch.
Their portkey takes them from 5 A.M. in London to 11 A.M. somewhere in the Mekong Delta region, so when they arrive in their room, Harry immediately crawls into the pristinely made hotel bed, nesting the crisp duvets and the pillows into an iceberg-like structure and sleeps. Hard. Sprawled on his belly with his clothes still on (he's wearing sweat shorts at least, not jeans, thank Merlin) but with his feet sticking out for temperature regulation. He looks like he knows what he's doing. Draco watches him fuss and clumsily toe off his socks (because what lunatic wears socks to bed? Ridiculous) and then doze off immediately, squeezing in a highly efficient, half hour kip before they are expected for their lunch arrangements.
Harry seems more affected by the jetlag than the rest of the company, so Draco finds him, not unlike a cat, sleeping in strange places and at odd moments during the entirety of their stay in Vietnam.
For instance, on a couch in the hotel lobby one early morning, while Ron and Hermione argue with the clerk over the tour reservation that Ron definitely made correctly, with his head in Luna's lap, hoodie pulled low over his eyes, and his arms hugged around his chest.
Or, on the lawn chairs by the pool in the middle of the day. Which, Draco supposes, isn't that strange a place to sleep, but Harry's commitment to the activity is once again proven when Hermione ambles over to rub sunscreen on his back and place a sunhat over his head, all without as much as a twitch.
It's really quite fascinating to watch (though no one else seems to think so) and Draco finds himself somewhat jealous, because even when he diligently works through his own list of requirements for a good sleep (freshly showered, moisturized, teeth brushed, clean sheets, glass of water on the side table, window open for airflow, access to his own pillow) he still doesn't often manage to make eight uninterrupted hours, let alone any misguided attempts at a restful nap. When Draco naps it means the situation is dire, that he is unwell, that he feels like something has crawled up his ass and died there, and it usually only exacerbates his condition instead of having the much desired effect it seems to have on Harry. That effect being that he wakes up content, mellow and sleep-soft (objectively) and exists like that for five minutes or so, before moving onto stage two of his post-nap euphoria, which includes but is not limited to; a general lust for life, toothy grins, silly jokes (objectively), and a propensity for affection towards whoever is nearest to him at any given moment.
Which means that Draco finds himself subjected to the feeling of gently excited hands on his wrists and back as they ooh-and-ahh at the view on their hike, and a chin hooked over his shoulder as Harry feigns mild interest in the book Draco is reading, before asking him to come swim.
Apparently, it also means that, when Draco is keyed up with homesickness on the third of their eight-night stay, Harry invites him into bed.
"You okay?"
Draco looks back from where he has his head stuck out the window, spooked and feeling slightly caught. He stares at Harry in his bed, making up the shape of his body under the sheets from his feet (sticking out from under the cover) to his rumpled head that's more under the pillow than on top of it. Harry's voice is thick with sleep and so, so soft.
"Oh," says Draco. "Yeah. Um. Just— a bout of insomnia."
Harry just hums, low and noncommittal, and for a moment Draco thinks that he might be sleep talking. But then Harry shifts and lifts up the duvet, wordlessly and casually extending an invite towards Draco, and waits for him to get in.
Draco would object, but maybe Harry's bed is just that much more comfortable, maybe that's why he sleeps so well, and well— truly it looks much too inviting to resist. So Draco doesn't object, and quietly pads across their room to slip into bed with Harry. The blanket is bunched up and skewed, there are more than enough pillows, yet none of them in the right spot to actually fulfill their intended purpose, but Harry isn't fussed in the least, and wastes no time snaking an arm across Draco's middle and slotting his head under Draco's chin. Harry seems to fall back asleep pretty much immediately, and Draco is suddenly surrounded by an aura of sleep-warmed sheets, skin-on-skin contact and a bouquet of powdery scented curls, clean skin and sweet spearmint breath. It would have been overwhelming if it wasn't so blissfully sedative.
A robust dose of Dreamless Sleep has nothing on the deep rise and fall of Harry's chest, the dozy twitch of his toes against Draco's leg, the blooming warmth in all the spots where their bodies are touching. Draco dreamily wishes he could bottle it. Who knew that sleeping was a team sport.
#drarry microfic#drarry#oneshot#drarry oneshot#draco malfoy#harry potter#fluff#getting together#napping#cuddling#homesickness#tooth rotting fluff#weddings#holidays#writemonowrite#drarry fanart#drarry art#hermione granger
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sakuatsu fanfic recommendations!
i am back with more fanfic recommendations. i still have 100 fanfics to read so this will definitely be updated in the future x3 but away we go!
the highest rating for these recs is m!
oneshots!
soft but what light by min_mintobe
teen. 2.1k. sakusa pov. atsumu woos sakusa by quoting shakespeare. very cute and endearing <3
i'll see you in court by yamscooper
teen. 2.4k words. sakusa pov. post-anesthesia sakusa doesn't remember his husband. it's funnier than it sounds, trust me.
clean™️ by kiyoomi by sifuhotman
teen. 3.7k words. atsumu pov. sakusa gets sponsored by mr. clean and sends samples to atsumu. he reads too much into it. fluffy and hilarious, especially the ending <3
the lovers' rivalry by strawberrypound_cake
gen. 3.9k words. bokuto pov. the only thing bokuto knows about atsumu's partner is that they've been together since high school. after seeing him freak out that sakusa kiyoomi is trying out for msby, bokuto concludes that they must hate each other still and fears for atsumu. i love outsider povs, and this one was done very well!
let's get physical by rosegoldwriting
teen. 4.3k. atsumu pov. atsumu falls head over heels for sakusa, the student nurse at the student center. cue atsumu doing whatever he can to cross paths with him. we love a pining atsumu in this house
the sakusa kiyoomi drunkenness scale by yamscooper
mature. 4.3k. atsumu pov. atsumu discovers what six-drink kiyoomi is like. cute, hilarious, and the second part absolutely killed me (in a good way). we love drunk sakusa in this house (please drink responsibly)
raincheck? by escapist_090807
teen. 5.4k. atsumu pov. 3 times atsumu and sakusa postpone their first date, and 1 time they make it happen anyway. very fluffy and cute, especially when there's a weasel involved!
particularities by shizuumi151
teen. 5.7k words. atsumu pov. sakusa has sole claim of the apartment for deep cleaning days. roommates hinata, bokuto, and atsumu find him intense, except intense means something different for atsumu. absolutely hilarious, especially with osamu's part in the last half!
haha what if we kissed at the [undisclosed store name]-? by fried_squid
teen. 6.9k words. atsumu pov. atsumu forgets his costco card and asks the first person he sees (i.e. sakusa) to help him out. i love the flirting through cash transfers, atsumu's wild goose chase to find out who sakusa's cousin is, and the pining! it's also very funny, go treat yourself to a laugh <3
sleeptalking by makemestagger
teen. 6.6k words. sakusa pov. sakusa learns that atsumu talks in his sleep and uses this opportunity to see if atsumu reciprocates his feelings. fluffy and lighthearted!
on the back burner of love by aurite
teen. 7.8k words. atsumu pov. sakusa leaves to play for a team in paris and atsumu pines. a narrative of two boys toeing the line of haha what if we're in a love but we won't tell the other until they're halfway across the world
the airport test by calicofern
teen. 11.3k words. sakusa pov. how do you tell if you have serious feelings for someone? travel with them at the asscrack of dawn to assess if you'll do it again. i absolutely loved this, it's very much like sakusa to test himself (and affection) in this way x3 also with a sequel!
longfics!
under pressure by ghostystarr
gen. 8.1k words. 2 chapters. sakusa pov. my first introduction to sakuatsu and damn is it a good one. sakusa learns how to flirt from bokuto and hinata. it goes as well as you'd expect. please read this.
(un-)deserving by sipsutus
teen. 11.1k words. 2 chapters. atsumu pov. unlike most might think, atsumu cared and he can't believe that anyone would deserve him, until sakusa tells him he does <3 we love and care for atsumu in this house, no matter how painful it gets
the dos and don'ts of loving sakusa kiyoomi by liliapocalypse
teen. 15k words. 2 chapters. atsumu pov. the jackals have a little game to try to make sakusa warm up to them and somehow, atsumu ends up with negative scores for four weeks. cue an intense investigation on how he can be the best teammate ever...and eventually gets the man, as well x3 very cute, highly recommend!
flowers bloom in our masks by unicornflowers
gen. 24.k words. 3 chapters. sakusa pov. a beautiful exploration of sakusa's mysophobia in a developing relationship with atsumu. it has a happy ending, don't worry <3
point of view by lonelydoctors
teen. 27.9k words. 3 chapters. atsumu pov. atsumu grows up thinking he's too much to love and sakusa shows him otherwise. deals with heavy themes, please heed the tags before reading <3
frankenstein's monster by starbeyy
teen. 83.6k words. 10 chapters. atsumu pov. atsumu accidentally pisses off sakusa on the first day of practice and vows to avoid him, but this fails when they see each other for group therapy that same night. deals with themes related to ocd, proceed with caution <3 very detailed and personal, with comfort to balance the angst
easy to love by harubo
teen. 145.5k words. 40 chapters. multi-pov. although this is mainly sakuatsu, i blame this fic for making me fall for sunaosa as well x3 canon divergence where sakusa is a food critic and stumbles upon onigiri miyas. the slowburn is so, so good, and the writing is so, so beautifully crafted and oozing with love. cannot recommend this enough, please love yourself and read this <3
your hands only by odd_bear
mature. 200.4k words. 20 chapters. multi-pov. atsumu gets into a very dangerous relationship and those around him help free him. features multiple pairings, endgame sakuatsu.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfic recs#fanfic recs#sakusa kiyoomi#miya atsumu#sakuatsu#inarizaki#itachiyama#msby black jackal
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