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#SOMEONE get him out the damn box already
ickadori · 6 months
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++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.
[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.
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“What you did was incredibly stupid.”
“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”
“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”
“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”
“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”
“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”
“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”
“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”
“You could have bought another one.”
“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”
“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.
“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”
“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.
“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”
“It looks like a child made it.”
“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.
“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”
“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”
“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”
“How kind of you.”
He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”
“I’m married, Your Grace.”
“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.
“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”
“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”
“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”
“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.
“Not at all, jailbird.”
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matchingbatbites · 1 month
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Happy Valentine's, all. <3
Eddie doesn't want to be making this call. Literally the last thing he wants to be doing is making this specific phone call, but he'll be damned if he lets his asshole of a roommate get away with this.
After a moment the ringing stops, and a voice says "Hello?"
"Uh, hi, is this Steve?"
"It is, who is this?"
"It's Eddie, Jake's roommate? I got your number from him." Well, from his phone when he'd left it unattended one day, but Steve doesn't need to know the details. "I really, really hate to be making this call, especially the day before Valentine's, but uh. Jake is cheating on you."
The line is silent for a moment before he hears a weak "What?"
Eddie's eyes squeeze shut at the heartbreak he can hear in that single word. He hates that he's doing this, but knows it needs to be done, for Steve's sake.
"I got home from work not too long ago, and heard him with some girl in his room. I took a video, if you want proof, but I just- I thought you deserved to know."
There's a bit of shuffling on Steve's end, along with a soft sniffle. "I, uh. I don't need the video. I believe you. I'm not all that surprised, if I'm honest."
He huffs a laugh, the sound so self-deprecating that it makes Eddie's stomach twist in empathy. "Guess that makes me three-for-three on my long-term partners cheating. I'm starting to wonder what the fuck is wrong with me."
That last part is softer, like Steve was speaking to himself, but Eddie hears it and frowns, because- because Steve is lovely. He can tell that Steve is beautiful inside and out, always kind with just enough sass to make him so fun to be around.
He's always makes sure to talk to Eddie every time he comes over, even if it's just a simple greeting or goodbye, and whenever he cooks at their apartment - because he's a great cook - he always makes enough for Eddie to have some as well.
It feels wrong to hear Steve talk like this, like there's something about him that needs to be fixed. Like his previous partners were right to abuse his love and trust, instead of treating them like the treasures Eddie knows they are.
Before Eddie can speak out to reassure him, the man continues. "Thank you for telling me Eddie. Spending Valentine's alone is gonna suck, but I guess that's better than spending it with someone who doesn't care about me."
"Spend it with me."
Eddie isn't sure where the request comes from, but as soon as it leaves his mouth, it's all he wants.
Steve gives a soft "Huh?" and Eddie repeats it, "Spend it with me. A boy as pretty as you shouldn't be cooped up inside on a day like Valentine's. Let me take you out, try to salvage it for you at least a little."
Steve goes quiet, and for a solid ten seconds, Eddie is sure that he's about to be rejected.
And then Steve says "Jake was supposed to pick me up at 6:30 tomorrow. I'll come by yours at six instead, so I can break up with him before we leave. Is that okay?"
A sigh of relief, and Eddie slumps into the wall behind him. "Sounds perfect, Stevie. Wear something nice, but casual, okay?"
"I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie. And thanks again."
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Jake comes across Eddie the next evening as he's packing the last of the food into a bag. He's spent the last hour or so getting it ready, making sure it's all perfect even though it's nothing too complicated.
A meat and cheese plate with some fancy crackers, a jar of the pickled asparagus he's recently become addicted to, a bowl of diced fruit and a box of fancy chocolates he'd splurged on.
He'd even dropped money on a bouquet of roses, and he already has a few comfy blankets and pillows packed into the back of the van. Everything perfect and ready to go. When Jake sees his preparations, he lets out a low whistle.
"Wow, Eddie. Trying to impress someone?"
Eddie shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Yep. It's our first date, so I want it to be special. Didn't wanna go the usual, boring, fancy restaurant route."
He's sure that's what Jake had planned for himself and Steve, and it's confirmed by the way his nose wrinkles. "There's nothing wrong with spending money on your date, Eddie. If you have the money to spend, that is."
Jesus Christ, Eddie can't wait to move out of this fucking place, and away from this fucking asswipe.
"Anyway, I've gotta go pick up Steve soon, and I'm planning on bringing him back here tonight, so maybe see if you can crash with your date, yeah?"
"Sure thing-" Eddie replies, though he's interrupted by the sound of a knock ringing through the apartment. He grins wide, knowing exactly who it is. "That must be my date. Can you grab that while I finish up here?"
Jake rolls his eyes but complies, and Eddie freezes in place, not daring to make a sound so he can hear whatever interaction is about to happen.
The door opens, and he hears Jake's confused "Steve? What are you doing here? I'm supposed to be-"
"Yeah, we're not doing anything anymore. Ever again, actually."
God, Steve sounds so bitchy, and Eddie fucking loves it. He grabs the bag of food and the bouquet of roses from the counter, glad that he got dressed beforehand, and makes his way to the entry.
"What are you saying, Steve?"
"I'm saying that we're over, Jake. Maybe you can call the girl you fucked last night and take her to dinner instead."
Eddie turns the corner in time to see Jake's stunned expression, clearly not expecting Steve to throw that at him. He takes a moment to bask in the fire burning behind hazel eyes, until they slide to him and that fire vanishes, replaced with something sparkling and delighted.
"Hi, Eddie," Steve says, his demeanor changing like the flip of a switch, and Eddie beams. He steps closer and offers the bouquet of roses, along with a "Happy Valentine's, Stevie."
The money Eddie spent on the flowers was worth it to see the blush that floods Steve's face as he reaches out to take them.
"Oh, thank you. That's really sweet of you."
"What the fuck is happening right now?"
Eddie and Steve both turn to look at a very petulant and confused Jake, and Steve just smiles. "Well, you just got dumped, and my Valentine is about to take me on a date."
It takes a moment, but something must finally click, because Jake's face goes red with rage. Eddie just grabs Steve's arm, guiding him out of the apartment before the man can actually do something.
"So what's the plan?" Steve asks as he takes Eddie's hand, lacing their fingers together as Eddie leads him to his van.
"Well, uh. The next town over still has a drive in theater, and they're showing some old romance movies tonight. The drive to get there is pretty nice, and we'll actually have some time to talk, and then- I have some blankets and pillows in the back of the van, and I brought food so we can do a picnic during the movies. I mean, if- if that sounds good to you."
Steve's eyes are sparkling again as Eddie rambles, and he squeezes their hands in delight. "That sounds perfect, Eds."
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By the time Eddie gets home late that night, he's learned two things:
The first is that Steve had already been debating on breaking up with Jake before this whole fiasco, but the thing stopping him was that he actually likes being around Eddie, and he thought wanting to hang out with his ex-boyfriend's roommate would be too weird.
The second thing Eddie's learned is that Steve's smile tastes like dark chocolate and sunshine, and kissing him might just be Eddie's new favorite hobby.
(Eddie does eventually show the video to Steve, just to reassure him that he didn't break them up so Eddie could date him instead. The only comment Steve makes is "She's definitely faking, his dick game isn't that good.")
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bunni-v1 · 7 months
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First Years Finding Out Your A Girl?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mild swearing, STRICTLY Female Reader, Discussion of Jack having a good sniffer (lol)
Info: Headcannons; Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel x Reader (platonic); Mostly for fun
🍓Hi. I'm back... sorta. I didn't have much time to write over the summer, and I honestly don't know how much I can write during school cause my schedule is... yikes. But I picked up something I wrote a while ago, edited it, and decided to post it. I'll be answering whatever's in my ask box right now, and then maybe work on some other stuff.
Ortho & Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
Dorm Leaders
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course, but we’ll get to him).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
FIRST-YEAR SQUAD
Ace
-He’s one of the first ones who find it out, and it’s in the very cliche anime way.
-After some point of knowing you, Ace is so comfortable that he just invites himself into ramshackle. 
-It’s never been an issue or anything. You’re thick as thieves now, you’ve survived death together a handful of times. If you ask Ace, that’s about as close as you can get with someone.
-Normally, you and Grim are just sitting around in the living area, but this time you aren’t. However, he does hear voices coming from your room. His curiosity is peaked.
-So, slippery guy that he is, he sneaks up to your room and his curiosity only grows when he hears a woman’s voice. Prefect getting lucky? And he didn’t tell him? Ace thought you guys were friends.
-He creeps up to your room, slides open your door, and!!! Holy shit it’s you. It’s you in a towel. It’s you and you’ve got tits?!?! 
-His first reaction is to… well… scream.
-“You’re a girl?!?”
“Why are you in my room???”
“You’ve got- boobs!”
 “Get out Ace!”
-Bro sits very politely and very quietly on your couch after that. Deep behind his blank stare, he is seething. You were a girl this whole time, and you didn’t tell him! He thought you guys were friends!
-He definitely fights you about it once you’re down and dressed. He’s just salty, he’ll get over it. 
-Swears up and down he won’t tell anyone.
-Immediately tells Deuce.
-That's it though! Deuce is part of the main quartet, he deserves to know! (You scold him for this too, but you figured it would happen one way or another).
-From him finding out, he doesn’t really treat you differently. You’re still a person, why should he act differently cause you’ve got different body parts than him.
-Though, and he won’t admit this, he’s a bit more… watchful of the others around you. Yeah, you can hold your own and he respects you… but guys like Azul exist, and he’s seen firsthand the torture Azul is capable of. 
Deuce
-As stated before, Ace outs you to Deuce almost immediately after finding out.
-Deuce, in all his awkward glory, completely shuts down. Disconnects from this plane of existence. He cannot believe the news he was just told.
-You, one of his best friends in all of twisted wonderland. You, the person who survived multiple overblots alongside him. You, who have seen him at his most vulnerable… are a girl.
-It isn’t even the fact that you’re a girl, it’s the fact that you kept this a secret from him for so long. You guys are… bros… how could you possibly hide something so important from him. Did you not trust him?
-Yeah… he overthinks things quite a bit.
-He also ambushes you the very next day with a million questions (very loudly (very in public)), to which you calm him down and reassure him that “No, Deuce, I don’t suddenly hate you. I wasn’t hiding it from you maliciously. I was going to tell you at some point, I just hadn’t had a good time to.”
-Deuce’s behavior definitely… changes… in some ways. 
-Deep down he knows you’re a kick-ass bitch and you don’t need to be cared for, but he can’t help but want to. 
-It’s definitely his mommy issues in play here.
-He just becomes more… protective and aware around you. Not in a creepy obsessive way, just in the same way a guard dog would. 
-Like Ace, he’s more than aware of what the people on this campus are capable of, and you’re completely magicless on top of being more feminine. Some guys at NRC would hop on an opportunity like that like nothing.
-He just doesn’t want to see his friends getting hurt okay :(
-It’s like you gained an overprotective older brother who also sometimes barks!
Jack
-Out of everyone, Jack was the first to find out.
-I don’t wanna be the cliche writer but… he’s got a sniffer on him. 
-He definitely could smell that something was up, but he didn’t want to assume! 
-You could be trans, you could be genderfluid, you could be anything other than a woman! It’s not his place to judge, and smell isn’t always the end all be all. You could just really smell feminine and that's how guys come in your world.
-Mr. Respectful would never want to assume anything… but he’s a little curious he won’t lie.
-Jack REALLY found out shortly after Ace, Deuce and Grim got their asses in trouble with Azul. 
-He’d never been given a reason to spend any more than a few minutes around you at a time. However, since he got pulled into this mess, he’s spent a lot more time with you.
-It happened when he was forced to hide under the desk in his office.
-You were so close and you just… smelled like a girl.
-He is so polite and so upstanding, he would NEVER ask you directly. But the suspense of not knowing really does take a number on him.
-By the end of Azul’s overblotting he is so awkward and nervous around you, that you absolutely have to say something.
-At this point, you figured most of the beastmen had an idea of you being feminine, however, you had no real confirmation of that. 
-Jack is such a “let's not bother other people” kind of guy, that you knew he wouldn’t want to say anything to you if you knew… so you decided to take the plunge.
-At the museum, you pull him aside and you have to ask.
_”Jack?”
“Hm?”
“You know, don’t you?”
“…”
“I figured as much. Don’t tell anyone, m’kay? I want to tell my friends on my terms.”
-It makes Jack respect you more than he already did. Not only did you have the confidence to confront him, but you did it calmly and you were understanding of his position.
-And honestly? Not much changes between the two of you.
-He just respects you a little more. He’s not particularly protective around most other students, he talks to you the same, and he doesn’t act like you’re special. You’re just… a friend. 
-The only thing that he may be different about is other beastmen. He does his best to shield you from them if he feels they might be a threat to your well-being. 
Epel
-Epel, being a more feminine-looking man himself… doesn’t think much of you.
-At this point, you’re well acclimated to things at nightraven college, and are very good at being “one of the boys.”
-His ONLY implication is how… differently Rook and Kalim treat you.
-At this point, Kalim has found out via the previous chapter, and Rook knows because of course he does. (We won’t be getting into that today though)
-They both are more… delicate with you? Rook whips out the charm times ten when you’re around. Kalim, although friendly with everyone, seems to be even MORE friendly when you’re around. Like he wants you to like him.
-Even Deuce and Ace have a few… odd tells.
-They both pointedly ensure Jamil is at least five feet away from you at all times. Glare at Rook when he’s a little too charming.
-Other than that, nothing really gives it away.
-Epel is completely and totally in the dark because you’re really good at hiding that you’re a woman.
-He does, however, eventually find out because… Deuce slips up. He’s there giving his big speech on the beach, hyping Epel up, and somehow he manages, “And the prefect is a woman, but she never lets that get in her way!”
-Epel: Shocked, confused, in awe… says nothing. He lets the information ruminate.
-He lets it ruminate for a very long time.
-So long, in fact, that he doesn’t raise his suspicions until the two of you are on a broom heading off to save Vil’s life.
-The silence was killing him, so he had to ask.
-“Prefect, are you a girl?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I couldn’t be sure, I look like a girl too, so you never know.”
“Yes, Epel, I’m a girl.”
“…Cool.”
-Honestly, he’s kind of jealous of you. You passed better than him, and you had to try harder.
-It doesn’t change how he treats you, honestly. He’s not that kind of country bumpkin, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t have a little resentment held against you.
-He thinks you’re cool as hell, and you help redefine what femininity can look like to him much better than what Vil does.
-He, however, does actively become more protective of you. 
-Not because he thinks you can’t fend for yourself, but because he kinda wants to show off a little.
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intoxicated-chan · 11 months
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Only You, Darling
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel begins to worry about his unborn child, considering his spider DNA and history of losing people, he worries if things are only meant for the worst.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Dark Red” by Steve Lacy. When I tell you about the grip Miguel has on me! I love this man.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 982
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, pregnancy, light angst, established relationship, mentions of cheating, mentions of intercourse, swearing, little paranoia, very fluffy…
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You stared at the positive test. You remained still before looking back at the other five positive tests. Your breathing became ragged as you knew Miguel would be home in a few hours.
You still had some time left, hide the evidence and find a way to explain it to Miguel. He thought that it was almost impossible to get you pregnant, which is why you hoped it wouldn’t make him think of the worst. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.
You begin cleaning up the torn boxes and used tests, throwing them in the small garbage bin without a second thought. You shouldn’t be worried about this now, you should be worried if Miguel was going to make it home on time or late, again.
But all the silence scared you to death as there was no way to calm you. Nothing would stop you from pacing around the living room. What felt like minutes were hours, and when your head snapped in the direction of a thud coming from your shared room. You cursed to yourself, knowing only one person to take the window instead of the front door.
“(Y/n)!” You heard him call out.
You choke on your words for a few seconds before finally being able to speak, “...I’m in the living room!”
You could practically hear him let out a sigh of relief as you heard his footsteps from your room and to the living room, seeing him still in his costume, “I thought you went out for a run again.”
“Well, I do know how much you hate them.”
“Because you take them during the night, I’ve told you how dangerous it is.” He comes to you, placing a quick kiss on your lips before pulling back, “I’m going to get washed up.” He walks to the bathroom but stops and looks over his shoulder, “Care to join me?”
“Well I-”
“That’s fine.” Miguel tells you, “But I could use someone to wash my back.”
“Miguel-”
And he sped to the bathroom, tired but… Shit! You never took out the trash!
“Miguel!” You call out again but no answer. You were too late, he’s already in the bathroom. You still had time, all you needed to was not freeze in place and open the damn door! But you can’t. You didn’t have the right to keep this information from Miguel, he deserves to know.
While you left him in the bathroom, you sat on your shared bed, waiting for him…
It’s been a half-hour. No sound of the shower turning on or anything from the bathroom. But your heart drops, hearing the door open and Miguel comes to the room, test in hand as his eyes tell his whole expression.
“I-”
“I know you didn’t cheat on me.” He whispers, setting the test on the dresser, “But how long have you known for?”
“Just this morning, a few hours after you left for work.” You answer.
“Just this morning?”
“Just this morning.” You repeat, looking into his eyes.
Miguel takes a deep breath, “Okay, okay.” But then he grabs a duffle bag from your closet and sets it on the bed, he pulls open your drawer and starts filing the bag up, “You can’t stay here.” He answers before you say anything.
“Listen to me, Miguel.”
“It’s not safe for you here.”
“Miguel-”
“I’m a danger and you know it.”
“Miguel!” You grab his wrist, “Stop. You know damn well I trust you with my life. You may think that’s the worst thing I ever said but I mean it. I know you have the strength to protect me, I love you Miguel and I promised to stand by you no matter what happens. So please, don’t push me away.”
“It’s not that I’m a danger to you, I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve everything, Miguel. And I’m hoping that you will let me give it all to you.” Feeling his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as if it was his last day.
The next couple of weeks were filled with doctor visits and holded up at home. It’s not like you didn’t stay home before, it’s just Miguel wanted to be sure you were in a safe location and that it would be your shared home.
“Did you take-?”
“My prenatals?” You finish his question, placing a kiss on his forehead, “Yes I did.” You kissed him again, “You don’t gotta worry about me, Miguel. With the doctor visits and the pills, I’m doing just fine.”
“I know.” Miguel sat on the couch while you sat on his lap, you felt his hands come to your stomach, “Does the doctor know when you would start showing?”
“In a couple more weeks but it’s different for everyone.” You tell him, feeling him nuzzle into your neck. You feel his hands rub your stomach, “Are you okay, Miguel?”
He hums, nodding into your shoulder, “It’s just… What if I’m a horrible father?”
“Don’t you dare say that!” You get up, turn your body to face him and sit back down, “I know you’ll be a wonderful father, Miguel. No matter what anyone says. And I know that this child will love you.”
He looks at you and slowly, a smile forms, “This is what I’m talking about.” He lays his head on your chest.
“What do you mean?” You ask. Then you look at his ears, the tip of them being red, “Miguel?”
“I think we should have more kids.”
Your hands come to his hair, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
He suddenly grabs your shoulders tightly and he snaps his head up, “Seriously?!”
You burst out laughing, “Of course!” You speak in between laughter, “I want nothing more than to start a family with you.” You calm down.
“What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“You’ll always have me.”
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© 2033 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
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roosterforme · 2 months
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The Younger Kind Part 47 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You keep Bradley on his toes like it's your full time job. That's why it feels so good to be the one to wear you out for once. With the upcoming air show to plan for, Bradley wasn't expecting his day to be shaken up by some phone calls.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, oral, butt stuff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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Somehow, Bradley was ready to go again. He was standing outside his own bedroom door, heavy cock held in his hand and a paper crown on his head. Maybe he should have felt ridiculous, but you made him feel alive. You and he were fucking to make a baby now, and that's why he was already hard. That's why he would keep getting hard all night.
Rustling noises from the other side of the door had him raring to go, but he stood as still as he could. Finally you asked, "Are you there?"
"I'm waiting patiently, Princess. I got my crown on." He was excited, and maybe he was feeling a little cocky over the fact that you asked him to wear it for you. He loved seeing you in the purple one, because it made him feel like he owned you when he fucked you in it. And he wanted to be owned by you, too. 
When you opened the door, Bradley smiled. You looked so pretty, fresh faced from the shared shower the two of you had enjoyed together. Then you held up your phone and said, "I'm recording. Hi, Daddy." 
He stroked himself, already looking forward to loading this depraved video onto the purple USB drive. "Hey, Baby," he rasped, eyes drifting down your body to find you were wearing his last name over your perfect breast. Then he froze. Your arm was hanging down at your side right next to the bulging pocket of his dress whites jacket which was stuffed full with the box holding your engagement ring. "Shit."
"You feel like making a movie?" you asked, biting your lip and running your hand up and down his jacket. Bradley released his cock and lunged for you, and you laughed as his arm encircled your body. "Wow, Daddy. Your stamina is impressive for someone who can't use a smartphone."
His heart was pounding as he slipped his hand inside the pocket and wrapped it around the little box. Carefully, while he rubbed himself against your clit to distract you, he opened it up and ran his index finger along the edge of the diamond and the smooth band. The hinge closed again, and he pulled his hand and the box slowly from the pocket. Chances were you hadn't seen it.
Bradley kissed your ear as he cupped your ass with his free hand. You were wearing your plug, and when his fingers connected with the soft silicone, he moaned your name. "You chose me over the boys your age because of my stamina, Princess."
Your head was tipped back, eyes closed as he teased along your pussy with his long middle finger, rubbing your slick opening with his fingertip. He had you distracted while he looked around for somewhere to put the ring. Skittles walked into the room as you started whining, and Bradley made eye contact with the dog before tossing the ring at her tiny bed. The box landed softly, and Skittles trotted over to it, sniffing before walking in a little circle. She plopped down with her front paws and head covering the box. Noah was right all along; the damn dog was his best friend. 
"No," you moaned as Bradley slipped his finger deeper while he pushed on your plug. "I chose you, because I'm in love with you. The stamina and big dick are just a bonus."
When he confirmed that you hadn't been filming in the direction where he'd thrown the engagement ring, he turned the phone slightly in your hand to capture him nipping at your neck. "Right now, you get anything you want since you were a good girl in the kitchen and let me fuck you hard and rough."
He started to undo the jacket buttons so he could get his hands on the rest of you. "I want you to make me feel really full. And I don't think we should waste your cum in my ass, you know?" you panted as he stroked your furled nipple with his thumb.
"Jesus Christ, Princess," he growled. Less than seven months ago, you were his innocent looking babysitter that he was jonesing for, and now you were talking about his cock and cum in your ass. He kissed you softly. "I'll give you anything you want." 
"I know you will." You handed him your phone and guided him onto the bed on his back, and then you settled on your belly in between his spread legs and took his length in both of your hands. You were quite a sight this way, wearing his jacket, and he zoomed in with your phone and watched you place an open mouth kiss on his cock.
"You look pretty like that," he whispered, and his cock jumped as you grinned. 
"Are you going to watch this when you're deployed again?"
Bradley thought about the polaroids you sent him with last time. Maybe this would be a little more secure. He could already imagine watching this when he was lonely for home and missing you badly. You kitten licked at his precum as you made eye contact with him through the phone screen, and he nodded. "Yeah. I'll add it to the special gallery of all the dirty Princess shit on my phone. Watch it when I'm craving you."
You moaned softly and buried your face in his balls, nuzzling him as he spread his legs a little wider. You wanted to get fucked. He knew that. And he wanted to fuck you again, too. So he was going to have to lay here and get through another exemplary blowjob without cumming on your face or in your mouth. But with Skittles protecting your ring from you, he smirked and tucked his free arm behind his head and just enjoyed it.
"Show me what you got, Baby," he encouraged as you ran your tongue back and forth across his balls, and then you started to suck gently. "Good girl." He let you go for a while, enjoying the feel of your lips and tongue and the soft suction. "How about you suck my cock wearing my jacket and name tag."
You got up onto your knees and flashed the BRADSHAW name tag and your tits for him. "That's my Daddy's name," you said with a bright smile, before leaning down and taking his cock deep with one smooth motion that left his hips bucking up while he gasped.
"Shit!" You looked up at him and hummed with your mouth full, eyes bright and proud of yourself. You bobbed up and down, fast and jerky, and Bradley succumbed to the various noises he wanted to make. You grabbed at his base and licked at him frantically as you rubbed yourself on the bedding, and he just knew you were going to love rewatching this fucking video as much as him. 
But now he was getting a little too close for comfort, and you were the one who said not to waste it. "You taking me for a ride?" he managed to ask as you sucked on his tip and massaged your saliva all over his balls. 
When you popped him free you whined, "I want to," before crawling up his body and kissing him. "Make me feel full?" you asked, and Bradley set the phone down to take your face gently between his hands and stroke your soft skin.
"Always," he whispered, pressing his lips to yours over and over. "I love you."
You moaned into his mouth and told him how much you loved him back between kisses that he didn't want to end. But soon enough you were pulling away and turning your back to him. He snatched up your phone again and recorded the way you eased the white jacket off your shoulders and also bunched it up so he could see your purple plug. You turned back to look at him as you gently took his cock in your hand and sank down around him.
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You loved the way it felt, but it was almost always on the verge of just being too much. The plug and Bradley at the same time filled you so much, it made you ache with pleasure. Every small movement had you whining his name. You knew he was still filming everything, but you didn't even have to act like you were about to get off, because it really was hopeless when he made you feel this good.
"Keep going, Baby," he encouraged as you rocked back and forth on his cock, clenching in need. Then you felt his fingers on your hip and butt before he found the base of your plug and gave you a little more pressure.
"It's too much!" you moaned as you rocked. "It's so good!" You turned around to watch him panting as he held your phone and pressed on your plug again. "You'll make me come," you gasped, and he just nodded in response. You held onto the fabric of his coat and rode him slowly, letting your pleasure build and build. The soft gripping you could feel turned to a clench that left your nipples hard. You took a few deep breaths, trying your best to talk, but you couldn't.
You came with him buried deep, so full you could only make a noise that had Skittles looking up at you from her bed as she cocked her head to the side. You were keening for Bradley, riding out your pleasure as he rubbed gentle circles on your hip and encouraged you. 
Once you started to slow, teeth chattering as you realized he was still hard, you looked at him and asked, "You didn't come yet?"
He shook his head dangerously slowly and handed you the phone again. The video had been recording for twenty seven minutes, and you gasped as he sat up with his cock still inside you. "I did not, Princess. What did I tell you earlier about my stamina?"
"Oh god," you gasped as one of his hands snaked around your body and inside the jacket to squeeze your breast. 
"Now," he whispered next to your ear, "get on all fours and I'll show you exactly what I mean."
You did as you were told, and Bradley pushed the jacket up higher on your back as he fucked you every bit as hard as he had in the kitchen earlier. Your face was buried in the bedding, and you weren't sure if you were even holding the phone correctly to catch it on video, but he was working you over good. And you took it with a smile on your face as Bradley lifted you away from the blanket with his hand wrapped gently around the front of your neck. 
"Be as loud as you want," he grunted. "Let the neighbors hear for all I care. I wanna hear it."
"Daddy!" you screeched for him as he filled you up with cum. "Daddy," you gasped, voice hoarse now as he let go of you. Slowly you eased your chest all the way down, but he plucked the phone out of your hand again. 
You heard him softly say, "Look at that. What a pretty mess," as he stroked your pussy and rear end which were still in the air for him. "What a gorgeous pussy."
"Bradley," you croaked, and he patted his wet cum against you before your phone ended up on the bed next to your face. You started giggling as he peeled his jacket off of you and collected you into his arms. "That was really fun."
You licked his sticky cum from his fingers as he looked at you in reverence. "That video is fucking filthy, and I love you with everything inside me." You giggled harder as he smiled and added, "I can't wait to watch it with you."
He helped you remove your plug and get cleaned up, and you were snuggled in under the blankets, eyelids getting heavy as Bradley slipped out of the bed. "Where are you going?"
"Give Skittles a little treat for being so good," he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You watched him walk across the room naked, his body tan and toned, his penis still impressive looking even when it was soft. 
"That dog is so spoiled," you mumbled as you rolled over and started to doze. 
"Yeah, well she's my best friend."
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Bradley woke up later than normal based on the amount of light peeking in through the windows. He needed to pick Noah up from Penny's before noon which would require driving past your old place which he didn't even like to acknowledge any longer. He watched the way you had your hand resting on his abs as you slept on him, your tits pressed against his side. 
As soon as he started to shift around in bed, he heard Skittles jump up and start to shake her collar. She was the best wing-pup, helping him keep the ring hidden from you last night. He gave her a piece of a leftover meatball late after you fell asleep, and he promised her something special for breakfast, too. And now the ring box was on the top shelf in the closet where you couldn't reach it with his old gym bag in front of it. 
"Daddy," you whined softly when he tried to get up. You wrapped your arm tighter around him. "I'm still tired."
Bradley smirked. "You're a little worn out? From last night, Baby?"
"Yes," you moaned against his chest. "Is that what you want to hear, Bradley? You have excellent stamina, and I'm worn out."
He rolled you gently onto your back and braced himself above you. "Yeah. That's what I wanted to hear." He bent his elbows in a push up position and kissed your forehead, but your hand snaked down between his body and yours and stroked his soft cock. "Not too tired after all?"
"No, I am," you told him as you closed your eyes again, but you were smiling as you kept going. "But I can tell you're not."
Bradley grunted and let you keep going for a minute more before he said, "Then why don't you just lay there and let me do all the work?" He took your smaller hands in his, and you opened your eyes as he pressed your palms to the sides of your breasts. 
"Titty fuck?" you asked quietly, almost shyly. Sometimes it was easy to forget how young you were by how well you rocked his whole world and took care of everything, but he nodded and you bit your lip.
He made sure his voice was gentle even as he positioned himself. "You've never done it before?" 
"No," you confirmed, tilting your head forward to kiss his tip. "But I want to. As long as you do all the work," you told him with a laugh.
"Mmm," he hummed. "My Princess can just lay there and look pretty." He guided your hands so his cock was nestled nice and tight between your breasts, and he started to move. "Damn." 
"Does it feel good?" you asked, your voice lazy as your eyes stayed half lidded. 
"Yeah," he groaned. "Looks hot, too." You giggled softly which only turned him on more, and he pressed his cock down against your sternum with his thumb and fucked your tits a little faster. You kept changing the pressure with your hands, and he could feel his balls starting to tighten as they were treated to the softness of your skin. 
You looked pleased with yourself when after a few more minutes, he was staring down at your face and panting. He was thinking about painting your lips with his cum to make it look like your signature lip gloss. When you spoke, he changed course immediately. "Don't waste it, Daddy. Come in my pussy."
"Shit," he grunted, knowing your words were going to throw him over the edge. He moved quickly, bracing one hand next to your shoulder, easing his body lower on yours, and thrusting himself deep in one go. You squealed and squeezed your tits as he fucked your wet pussy with two more strokes, and then he was coming right where you wanted.
You propped yourself up on your elbows. "Good job."
Slowly, he withdrew himself, and watched his cum seep out of your hole. "I'm sure you're really proud of yourself," he whispered, gently easing your legs together and covering you up again. 
"I am," you whispered, rolling onto your side, full of the mess he made. He kissed your bare shoulder and the top of your back as you sighed. 
"I'm going to feed Skittles, and then I'll go pick up Noah from Penny's. You just relax."
He only got a nod in response, and soon you were sleeping again. With Skittles on his heels the whole time, Bradley got dressed and made his way to the kitchen. "Okay, relax," he told the pup, scooping her up into his big hand so she didn't have to walk across the patio stones to get to the grass when he opened the back door. She licked his face before he set her down, and then she followed him back inside, plopping down near the refrigerator as he turned on the coffee maker. "Spoiled," he mumbled, cutting up another meatball while his coffee brewed, and he dumped it into her bowl. 
He was hungry, but he wasn't going to wake you up again. Not after the night you let him have. He grunted as he poured his creamer into his Aviation is for the Birds mug and got a bowl down for some cereal. The air show was coming up on Saturday, and he was going to need to get himself ready for that. Before he forgot, he ordered a pair of headphones to protect Noah's ears along with some earplugs for you. 
"She thinks I can't use a smartphone," he mumbled to Skittles as she finished her breakfast. Bradley poured a second bowl of cereal and set a few calendar reminders with a smile, and then he finished his food and cleaned up the kitchen. When he peeked in the bedroom, only your head was visible above the bundled up blankets. He grabbed his wallet and keys and made his way out to get Noah.
When Bradley drove past your little rental house, he saw that your idiot landlord must have had a new tenant now. It was strange to see a different car there. It felt like years since he'd been inside with you and Noah, eating spaghetti and falling in love. When he pulled up to Penny's, he parked and headed to the front door. Loud music was playing, and after he knocked, he tried the knob and opened the door a bit. 
Penny, Amelia and Noah were having a dance party in the front room, so he let himself inside. When Noah saw him, he burst into tears. "I don't want to go home!"
Bradley couldn't help but laugh as Penny turned the music down. "This is the first time he's cried," she promised, scooping him up. "Are you just upset because we were having so much fun?" Noah nodded, and she added, "You can come back another day, I promise."
Amelia gave Noah a kiss on the cheek, and then she walked past Bradley and gave him a high five. "If you need me to babysit, let me know. I'm trying to save money before college starts in a year."
"Actually, I could use your help on Friday," he told her, and she paused on her way into the kitchen.
"What time?"
"Five?"
"Sure," she replied, taking out her phone.
"And one more thing," Bradley told her as he took Noah from Penny's arms. "I'm going to need you to go to a local college, because I don't have the energy to look for a third new babysitter."
She kind of smirked, and Bradley was reminded of the way you had tried to hide your lipstick marks on his white pants from her. Then Noah wrapped his arms around his neck and whined. "I want to stay here."
Bradley kissed his son's forehead and said, "But Mommy's at home, and she wants to see you."
"Okay," he mumbled. Honestly, he just looked tired. He'd had a long day at the beach followed by a fun sleepover. "Thanks, Penny."
"Anytime," she replied, stroking Noah's curls and waving as they walked out to the Bronco. 
"Should we stop and get some coffee for Mommy on the way home?" Bradley asked as he pulled away. 
"Yeah," he replied. "She likes it."
"She does," Bradley agreed. "And we like to make her happy." He grinned and had to adjust himself in his jeans as he thought about you all worn out and smiley in bed. Maybe you'd be in the mood for it nice and slow later. How he was possibly still ready for another round was shocking to him. 
At the coffee shop, the baristas all made a fuss over Noah, and Bradley let him put some cash in the tip cup. Then he borrowed a sharpie and wrote Princess on your cup and took it home to you. He and Noah found you in the kitchen making sandwiches for lunch, and you immediately stopped what you were doing to pick Noah up. 
"Did you have fun?" you asked, kissing him all over his face.
"We danced," he told you as Bradley set your coffee down. "And I learned a song called Shake Your Groove Thing."
"A classic," you replied with a laugh. "I'll add it to our playlist. I made you lunch." You deposited Noah in his seat, and Bradley watched you set the sandwich that had been cut up into smaller pieces in front of him. Once he started eating, Bradley backed you up against the counter. 
"I don't know what the hell you did to me," he whispered, kissing your ear. "But I'm really looking forward to Noah's bedtime tonight."
You picked up your coffee and took a sip, pressing yourself against the fly of his jeans. "This is really good today. Did you flirt with a barista?" you asked, ignoring his words as your fingers stroked his zipper. 
He grunted. "I told them my Princess only gets treated to the finest things," he whispered as he pressed himself to your palm before walking away to let Skittles outside again. He smiled as you laughed. "Oh, and I got Amelia secured for Friday night, so you and I can go on the hospital tour before the air show on Saturday."
You were all smiles as you said, "I should order some noise canceling headphones for Noah."
Bradley smirked. "I already did."
"Wow, Daddy! Did you use your phone all by yourself?"
"I knew you were going to say that."
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Bradley slept like a log after he checked to make sure the engagement ring was still secure and then fucked you for a full hour. You were already tired. He knew you were, but he couldn't help himself. It was mostly just you and him having a sweet conversation while he was inside you. He held you in his arms and kissed you. The gentle roll of your hips kept him close to the edge for a long time, but he was able to hold himself off while you enjoyed two orgasms.
When he woke up for work on Monday, he got Noah ready and started getting cereal and fruit out for breakfast while you showered and dressed in your scrubs. "I need a day off," you mused when you walked into the kitchen.
"From work?" Bradley asked, frowning at you as he started up the coffee maker. 
"No," you said, kissing the top of Noah's head. "From you. Don't even ask later tonight."
Bradley was still smiling when he got to work after dropping Noah off. He sent you a dirty text that you'd probably see on your lunch break when he walked into the hangar. That's where he saw Nat with her hands on her hips talking to Javy, and Bradley could tell she was trying not to smile at him. They needed to make things official or stop fucking around once and for all. 
"Morning, Rooster," she called out without even looking at him.
"Did the two of you spend the whole weekend together?" he asked, earning two middle fingers from Nat and a very bashful look from Javy. He would take that as a yes.
As soon as Maverick called him to his Super Hornet, Bradley's phone started ringing. First Bank of San Diego. He ignored the call. It was probably spam since he didn't even have an account with them. As soon as he put the phone back in his pocket, it started ringing again. 
"What the fuck?" he muttered, ignoring the call a second time as he got his helmet on and made his way across the tarmac. He didn't have time to think about it at the moment as now both Maverick and Cyclone were watching him. He'd finally got himself back in Admiral Simpson's good graces, and he didn't want to fuck that up again.
He climbed the ladder up to his jet and silenced his phone to keep out the distractions. He flew with Nat who was extra aggressive, probably because he'd called her out about Javy which just made him laugh. When he checked his phone in the afternoon, he had nine missed calls, two of which were from Tracy's office. He called her back immediately, and when her receptionist answered, he put Bradley's call right through as an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach.
"Do you have a few minutes to talk?" she asked, and Bradley glanced around to find what seemed like every damn admiral on base out on the tarmac today.
"Not really, Tracy. What's going on?"
She sighed. "Can you stop by on your way home from work?" The way she answered his question with another question had him panicking.
"Is this about Meredith?" 
"Yes."
"Fuck! Yes, I can stop by on my way home."
Bradley's heart was pounding as he sent you a text essentially begging you to pick Noah up even though he promised you earlier that he could do it. He knew seeing Casey still grated on your nerves. And maybe he should have told you where he was going and who it was regarding, but he couldn't bring himself to make you worry about Meredith and Tracy right now. He was already doing enough of that for both of you.
Of course, Daddy. I'll pick him up. I love you.
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Sorry this chapter was so horny. I probably won't change my ways for the next one. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 48
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668 notes · View notes
skylarsblue · 1 year
Text
I still have more. More Incorrect Quotes.
(Accidentally had a lot more fem!Y/N than intended but it's overall GN!) Alex: What made you think you’d be good for the military? Y/N: I worked at a Waffle House in America. Alex: Ah, alright, that makes sense.
-- (Interrogating Valeria)
Y/N: Look, Gaz, you know me. I can't- I can't do it. Gaz: Why not? Why can't you interrogate her? Y/N: Because I'm a bisexual with mommy issues, Gaz. And she's as pretty as she is scary. I'm already not that intimidating, she'll laugh at me when I start stuttering and then I'll just be horny. It can't be me. Gaz: ....okay, I'll ask Alejandro-
-- Y/N: I just realized something...I had a bad childhood. Gaz: Yeah we know. Y/N: What do you mean you know? Soap: Look at how you stand! People who had good childhoods don't stand like that. Y/N: How do I stand?! Gaz: Like Ghost. Ghost: ...I don't appreciate the call out but fair-
-- Price: Where are you going?! Y/N: To either get ice cream or commit a felony, I'll decide in the car!
-- Ghost after watching Fem!Y/N do an incredibly risky move: I just...Is she blind?? Suffering some form of brain damage?
-- (Tw; Hollywood Undead unalive song)
Y/N: My legs are dangling off the edge, the bottom of the bottle is my only friend, I think I'll sli- Price: EXCUSE ME?! WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?? Y/N: Wh- No Captain, it's just a so- Price: GHOST GET THE BASE PSYCH ON THE PHONE Y/N: CAPTAIN IT'S A SONG I'M FINE- Well I'm not bUT NO WAIT HANG ON-
-- Valeria: *screaming in spanish* Y/N: ... Gaz: Don't. Y/N, blushing: I'm trying-
-- (During movie night; watching Venom)
Y/N: *pauses on that scene where Venoms sticks his tongue out at the guy in the street* ....Hear me out- Gaz: NO! NO. Y/N: NO NO LISTEN, LISTEN- Soap: Let them speak. Gaz: Don't encourage this! Y/N, pointing at the screen: LOOK AT IT! LOOK! Objectively you have to understand- Gaz: NOOO, it eats people! Soap: THAT TONGUE IS THREE FEET LONG AT LEAST! Gaz: No, I will not be hearing anyone out! I- GHOST, Ghost, back me up. Tell them they shouldn't want to fuck the ALIEN. Ghost, looking at the screen: Ethically, it's wrong. Gaz: Thank you. Ghost: ...objectively- Y/N: AHA! SEE?!
-- Ghost: *bends over* Y/N: *silently flips out* Soap, quietly: Wh-what? What are you-?! Y/N: SHHH *grabs Soap's jaw and turns him to look* Soap: *slack jaw* Damn- Y/N: fuckingdamnindeed- Ghost: *turns around* Soap: So it's your turn to pick dinner, what're you thinking? Y/N: Oh I dunno, maybe something pork related, uh, or cake- Soap: Aha, yeah...cake. Ghost: ....??
--
Fem!Y/N: I am not the mom of 141, that's ridiculous. Someone: You make all of them lunch every day with fruit cut into shapes, IN PERSONALIZED LUNCH BOXES Fem!Y/N: They need nutrition! Someone: You color code their items- Fem!Y/N: Look, if you were there for the item mix-ups you'd understand. Someone: YOU ARE LITERALLY FOLDING AND LABELLING THEIR LAUNDRY WITH A SHARPIE ON THE TAGS. Fem!Y/N: *holding Simon's skull boxers, writing his name on the tag* That- ...oh my god I'm the mom.
-- Ghost, watching Soap run past: WHAT DO YOU HAVE?! Soap, grinning & sprinting: A FUCKIN' BOMB Ghost: NO!!!
-- Price: Y/N, this is Lieutenant Riley, you can call him Ghost. Ghost: Y/N, looking him up and down: ...you got daddy issues? Ghost: ....maybe Y/N: Cool, same. Pleasure to meet'cha, sorry life gave you shit. Ghost, shaking their hand: Ditto. Price: *concerned sigh*
-- Price, walking into the common area at 10 pm: What in the world- Gaz, Soap, and Y/N: *all in there pyjamas with face masks on, eating snacks* Y/N: *slowly keeps chewing* Gaz: ...heeeyy siiirr... Price: It was lights out an hour ago, what are you lot doing? Soap: *slowly raises another face mask* ....Self care, sir? Price: ... Ghost, walking in at midnight for water: ....what. Soap, Gaz, Price, and Y/N: *stop gossiping* Gaz: ....hey. Soap: Evenin' L.T. Y/N: Howdy. Ghost: *looks at Price with a face mask on* Ghost: ...*sighs and sits down* Pass the Goldfish. Soap: Yeaaaah, good man! Welcome to the party!
-- Shepard: Is anyone here straight?! Price: ...*hesitantly raises hand* Laswell: *pushes his hand back down*
-- Valeria: *angry ranting* Y/N, a captive: Stop being so mean to me or I swear to god I'm gonna fall in love with you!
-- Ghost: What in the hell are you doing? Y/N: Laying in the rain. Ghost: Why? Y/N: If I lay here long enough, it feels like it washes the sad away. So I'm gonna lay here until the sad is gone. Ghost: You'll get sick. Y/N: Better sick than sad, sir. Ghost: ...*looks at the sky, back down, sighs* Ghost: *lays down on the tarmac* Y/N: Got a lot of sad? Ghost: ...Yeah. Y/N: If the rain doesn't take care of it, let's trade sads. Then it'll at least be a different kind of sad. Ghost: Not sure you want my sad. Y/N: Maybe not, but I don't think you should have to handle your sad alone either. Ghost: ...alright. Y/N: Cool.
-- Price: Simon, it's three o' clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making chocolate pudding? Ghost: Because I've lost control of my life.
-- Soap, with a gunshot wound: Do I regret it? Yes. Will I do it again? Most likely.
-- Y/N after doing something so badass it would fit in a movie: ...DID EVERYONE SEE THAT?? CAUSE I WILL NOT BE DOING IT AGAIN.
-- Ghost: You kidnapped the prime minister's daughter? That's illegal! Soap: Okay, Ghost, but what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing the prime minister's daughter, or destroying 141? Ghost: KIDNAPPING THE PRIME MINISTER'S DAUGHTER, JOHNNY! Fem!Y/N: Do you guys have like, a water or something? Snack maybe? No?
-- Y/N: I think there's been some confusion. I'm not the one in trouble here. Enemy Soldier: ...What? Y/N: There are only four of you. You'll need more than that. Gaz, hearing it over the intercom: ...they're gonna whoop-ass but we should probably go help them.
-- Someone: Why are you doing their straps for them? Price: They don't like velcro. Someone: Just do it yourself! Y/N: I'm not touching that stuff! I'll get neurotypical cooties.
-- Y/N, high on painkillers: If yo leg get cut off, would it hurt? Soap, in a hospital bed beside them: ...DUH Y/N: How though? Soap: Cause your leg got cut off! Y/N: Where you gonna feel the pain? Soap: In your le.... Y/N: Exactly bro! How you gonna feel the pain in yo leg if- Both: If your leg is gone! Soap: Whoooaaa... Y/N: Bro I swear, we're geniuses. Ghost, on his last brain cell: Fuckin'ell.
-- Ghost, about to lose his shit: Dear lord, I know we haven't spoken in a long time but if you could give me a little patience-
-- Gaz: Do you believe in God? Y/N: ...Yes & no. Gaz: Yes & No? What do you mean? Y/N: I believe there is a higher power, I believe a God exists. But...believing in God? Now that...haven't done that in a long time.
--
Gaz & Y/N: *dancing* Ghost: Can you two be serious for five seconds? Gaz, bustin' a move: Dunno sir, can you have fun for five seconds? Y/N: *stops and looks at Gaz* Gaz: *stops and is filled with instant regret* ...uh, sir, I- Ghost: Tell you what. I'll give you five seconds...to start running- Gaz: *turns to run and sees Y/N already yards away* YOU LEFT ME?! Y/N: I WANNA LIVE!!!!
-- Ghost: What are they doing? Price: Arguing in morse code. Soap: - .... .- - .----. ... / .-- .... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... --- . ... / .-. .- --. --. . -.. -.-- Gaz: -.-- .- / -- --- -- -- .- Soap: YOU FUCKIN' TAKE THAT BACK-
-- Soap: Keep your eyes closed, I have a surpriiisee!~ Ghost: You did your paperwork? Soap: I said surprise, not miracle.
-- Y/N, on tiktok: FOR ALL YOU NASTY ASSES IN MY DMS- *shows the team* THIS IS MY TEAM. STOP SENDING MY DICK PICS OR I WILL SEND THEM AFTER Y'ALL. Ghost: You've been getting dick pics? Soap: Who the hell's been harassing you online?! Y/N: SEE?? THEY'LL WHOOP YA ASS, SO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!
-- Y/N, on tiktok again: Alright, backfired on me. For all of y'all who are now trying to be nasty by THIRSTING for my teammates, uh, no. Stop askin' for my Captain's marital status, I'm not gonna tell you. No you may not get my teammate's dicks, I will not be giving you their social media, stOP ASKING I KNOW THEY'RE HOT BUT NO-
-- (I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Karen compilations, so, that's why I thought of this)
Y/N: Goodbye sir! Male Karen: Fuck you bitch! Go suck off your captain you fuckin' whore!! Y/N: Sure, I'll do that, goodbye! Male Karen: Suck my dick, whore! Y/N: Can't! It's too full of military dick, you'll need to make an appointment, GOODBYE!! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: Jesus. Christ. Ghost: I told you all America is shit.
(Bonus Note cause I can't put in anywhere else; on the topic of Venom + C.o.D. I know we have Soap in place of Eddie & Ghost in place of Venom, but hear me out. Y/N! being Ghost's host and Johnny being a third part. P o l y ! A u !)
6K notes · View notes
honeyedmiller · 5 months
Text
Checkmate | Joel Miller
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pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader
warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), reader is depicted as shorter than joel but otherwise has no other physical description (picture in mood board is for aesthetic purposes only), mutual pining, making out, smut (thigh riding, brief mentions of f oral receiving, unprotected [bc] piv, slight cockwarming, riding), reader’s best friend’s name is hailey, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.
huge thank you to my baby @party-hearses for beta reading this for me. i love you to a million pieces 🖤
a/n: also this is my 900 follower celebration?! i still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people follow me and enjoy what i reblog / write. i love u all so, so much. i also feel kinda bad bc i hyped this one shot up a lot only for the smut to not be that descriptive, but this is more about joel and reader’s feelings than what they essentially do with each other. hope y’all still enjoy it :’)
word count: 4.6k
synopsis: you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.
dividers by the lovely @saradika
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You wiped your sweaty brow on your forearm as you lugged a fifth box into your new apartment. You’d finally saved up enough to move out of your parent’s place. Your master’s degree had paid off after all, landing you a job in the heart of Austin, Texas. You were only a thirty minute drive from your parent’s house, which your mom totally loved. She couldn’t wait to help you decorate your place and hand you down the pots and pans that’d been in the family for quite some time. 
The move wasn’t necessarily a tough one, because you were ready to get out of your parents’ hair. You all got along well, but you were dying for your own privacy and space that you could call your own. You couldn’t be happier now that you had it. 
In the midst of the move, your dad insisted he’d phone his best buddy, Joel. You’d only heard about him a handful of times while you were away at college, and in the months you’d been back with your parents, your dad always went over to his house to watch sports or hang out. When the whole family was invited over to his house for barbecues, you always found yourself either already having other plans with your friends, or you were working. Today was finally the day you’d meet the mystery man that is Joel Miller. 
And that’s when you saw him. Tall, broad, ruggedly handsome, body clad in an army green shirt that showcased his biceps and veiny forearms, dark jeans that showed off the muscle of his thick thighs, and scuffed up boots from plenty of days, weeks, hell–months of hard work that added an inch or two to his already towering height. 
He must’ve been in his forties if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was dusted with slight specs of gray, the  scruff on his jawline mirroring the hair on his head. His nose was strong, and was perfectly fitted with his face. He had dark brown eyes that were kind yet held some kind of sternness—a look that made your panties easily dampen. His mustache framed his lips that were pursed into a slight frown, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like all over your body. 
He looked at you just the same, all but hungry eyes roaming your body as he caught a glimpse of you for the first time. Like a damn deer caught in headlights. 
He was your dad’s best friend?
Oh, you were truly, utterly, royally fucked. 
You introduced yourself to him and he shook your hand, the calloused pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin sending a string of butterflies through your stomach. 
You genuinely don’t think you’d ever been this attracted to someone at first glance. 
After he and your dad helped you move all of your stuff into your new place, you’d concluded two things: one, Joel Miller was a man of very few words–at least, around you that is, and two: you were sure he was attracted to you just as you were to him. 
Was it so wrong to want someone a little bit older? Perhaps not. What was wrong was that he’s your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t want someone like that. Someone you were absolutely sure could handle you in the best way possible. 
About a month after you’d finally gotten settled into your apartment, you invited your best friend Hailey over a movie night and a glass of wine. You told her about your predicament, to which she couldn’t help but be the little devil on your shoulder and encourage you to go after Joel. 
“Look, I know he’s your dad’s best friend n’ all, but what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?” She questions, legs tucked underneath her body as her lips curl into a sly grin before she takes another sip of her wine. 
“I mean yeah, but I’ve never done something like this before. An older man, who’s closely acquainted with my dad? I oughta be out of my damn mind.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. 
“Live a little, babe. You’ve been a good kid to your parents your whole life. It’s time you do something for you for once and go after it. Make a subtle move on him next time. That might spice things up a bit.” She suggests, pursing her lips. 
“You’re right. But if I make a move and it backfires, I’m completely fucked and I’m moving to the other side of the country.” You laugh exasperatingly. 
She reaches over to pat your thigh softly. “Only one way to find out.” 
-
You hadn’t seen Joel as of late, but you weren’t phased by it. It’d been a really busy couple of weeks at work, and you were joining your coworkers tonight for a celebratory t.g.i.f. drink. 
Hailey was over at your apartment getting ready with you and you both were already two shots of tequila in. You weren’t much of a drinker, but truth be told, you needed this night out. 
“So I’m either between this dress or this one.” You explain to Hailey, and she studies the options you held up for her to thoroughly inspect. It was either between a black satin mini dress with sparkly straps, or a strapless maroon bodycon dress 
“This one,” She points at the black dress. “With your red kitten heels.” 
You toss the maroon dress onto your bed and take the black one off of the hanger, changing into the dress after Hailey goes to pour herself another shot. You slip aforementioned heels on and give yourself a once over in your full body closet mirror, satisfied with your appearance. 
You wanted to look and feel hot tonight, and it was safe to say you achieved just that. Maybe you’d pick up some hot guy at the bar tonight. He may not be no Mr. Miller, but anyone to take the tension of the past couple of weeks away would suffice. 
You were applying one last layer of lipgloss when Hailey’s knuckles rapped on your door twice, head peeking into your bedroom. 
“Uber’s here. Let’s go get fucked up.” 
You laugh at her enthusiasm, hot on her trail as you locked up and headed down to your Uber. 
The ride was only fifteen minutes before you pulled up to the bar that was already packed. You both slipped inside, spotting your coworkers at a table. They were laughing about something when you and Hailey walked up, and they all cheerily greeted you with hugs. 
It wasn’t long before the DJ was playing some line dancing songs, and multiple people made their way to the dance floor to move their bodies. You and Hailey were the only ones left at the table as you laughed at your coworkers trying to keep up with the beat of the song. 
“Mr. Hottie over there has been checking you out for some time now.” Hailey leaned into you, nudging your side with her elbow as she jutted her head toward a man at the bar. 
You felt your body drained of warmth as you saw none other than Joel Miller standing at the end of the bar, sipping on his beer tentatively. His eyes were locked on you, and the stupid butterflies rumbled around in your stomach once more. 
“Hailey, that’s him.” You say, swallowing thickly. 
“Who?” She gives you a questioning look, the drinks she’s had tonight making her mind a bit fuzzy. 
“My dad’s best friend. That’s Joel.” You say, and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. 
“Oh, girl, if you don’t make your move I’ll force you to make one. He’s a fucking hunk.” 
Your eyes trailed back over to him, taking in his appearance. He switched out the green t-shirt for a gray one, dark wash jeans, and the same boots he wore when he showed up to help you move into your place. 
The way he was looking at you made you want to do extremely sinful things with him. Fuck. Now or never. 
“I’ll be back.” You tell Hailey, and her expression brightens up and cheers you on as you slip off of your seat. 
You saunter over to Joel, drink in hand, and you sip on it through the straw as you approach him. He looks down at you amused, eyes nearly black as he scans you from head to toe. 
“You stalking me now, Mr. Miller?” You tease, leaning up against the bar top. 
Joel scoffs a laugh and sips on his beer once more. “Y’think I don’t have something better to do with my time than to see where you are on a Friday night?” He retorts, but it wasn’t mean. You were sober enough to hear the hint of playfulness in his tone. 
“Mm, not really.” You shrug, feigning an innocent smile up at him. 
So you could be a brat. He bet he could fix that attitude in no time. 
He chuckled at his own thoughts, finishing off his beer as he set the empty bottle down on the sticky bar top. 
“You caught me, darlin’. Any woman as ravishing as you is worth stalkin’.” The slight curl of his lip made you smile. You sipped on your drink some more as you watched the patrons of the bar dancing to the current song. Your eyes avert back up to his gaze, and you step closer to him. 
His eyes move down to your glossy lips wrapped around the straw, wishing so badly that your lips were wrapped around something else right at that moment. 
“What brings you here tonight, Mr. Miller?” You ask, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep. His body goes rigid at your touch, and you fear you’ve gone too far so your hand immediately drops. Joel does a quick scan of the bar before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his sturdy body. 
“My brother’s best friend’s birthday.” He shrugs, and you nod. You felt like a fucking hummingbird with how fast your heart was beating, and you were sure Joel could feel it with the close proximity between the two of you. 
The air became thick and heavy. Your breathing accelerated, looking up at Joel and into his lust-clouded eyes. His grip on your waist tightened in the slightest, and you nearly whimpered as you felt his bulge through the denim fabric of his jeans. 
“Joel.” Your voice was merely a whisper, and he smirked down at you. 
“Care to line dance, darlin’?” He asked nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrowed as disappointment shot through you. Were you reading the situation wrong? 
“I don’t really know how.” You say, setting your now watered-down drink on the counter. 
“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor. He showed you step by step how to move, but your mind was so hazy with lust that you could barely even focus. 
It’d been months since someone touched you in an intimate way, and the burning need and desire was aflame through your body. All you could think about was Joel’s hands and tongue on you as you moaned his name. The thought nearly made you pout. 
“You even listenin’ to me?” Joel pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. He was teasing and holding out on you and he knew it. 
His face held pure amusement as he watched you squirm under his stare uncontrollably, fidgeting like a little kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to stop by. 
“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You sigh, walking back to the table Hailey was waiting at.
“What happened?” She asks, looking behind you at Joel who was burning a hole in the back of your body. 
“No idea. Guess I’m not getting lucky after all.” You shrug with a disappointed huff of a laugh. You looked back to see if Joel was still there, but he seemed to have disappeared. 
You grabbed your purse and made your way to the bar, leaning over it. The back of your dress rode your thighs significantly, barely covering your ass at this point. Before you could get the bartender’s attention again, you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you back and press you into their body. You were about to mouth off on this person before you realized it was Joel. 
“Fuck, c’mon.” His hand slid down to your wrist, gently tugging it. You looked at Hailey as you started to follow Joel and pointed at him discreetly, and she gave you a thumbs up. 
Joel led you out into the cool air of the night, immediately chilling your whole body. Goosebumps raised onto your skin as he led you to his truck, your heels clicking against the unevenly paved asphalt. 
“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask as you stop in front of a dark truck. 
“I’m about to give us what we both want.” He said before trapping your body against his truck and between both of his strong arms that landed on either side of you. You cocked an eyebrow up at him, eyes and lips glossy underneath the dim parking lot lights. 
“Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doin’ this.” Joel murmurs before leaning down, smashing his lips with yours. You moan softly into the kiss, carding your fingers into his longer locks. You give the ends a slight tug and he moans into your mouth. You feel the arousal pool in your panties and your untouched core starts to throb. You whine into the kiss, and Joel takes that as an opportunity for his tongue to invade your mouth. 
He tastes like mint now, probably having popped an altoid in his mouth before coming back to get you from the bar. His hands travel downwards and find purchase on your thighs underneath the dress, rubbing circles into your soft skin. He starts to rut his hips into yours, the bulge in his jeans catching onto your clothed clit deliciously. 
“Joel, please.” You choke out as his lips disconnect from yours, hot kisses traveling down your neck and onto your collarbone. 
“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice raspy and muffled as he breathes against your neck. 
“Need you. Fuck, please, just touch me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound to him at this moment. His touch left a trail of flames everywhere his hands landed, and you couldn’t get enough. 
Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the back door of his truck, opening it and helping you slide in. He got in right after you, closing and locking the doors. Your chest was rapidly heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath from the intense moment. 
Joel didn’t give you much leeway, though, because as soon as he spread his legs to get comfy in the backseat, he was pulling you on top of him. You closed the gap between you two this time, rutting your hips forward so your heat sat right on top of his bulging crotch. He groaned lowly, looking down to where your dress had ridden up. He saw your pink lace panties that you had on, and god were you grateful you chose to wear those tonight.
Joel hummed in appreciation as he slid his calloused hands up the smooth skin of your thighs, looking back up to meet your gaze. Your lipgloss was nearly gone off of your lips and onto Joel’s, and he had to admit he liked the sticky cherry flavor. 
“Your daddy would kill me with his bare hands right now if he saw what I was doin’ with his darlin’ daughter.” Joel chuckles, shaking his head. 
“That’s why he won’t find out,” You shrug. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and decide what I want… and what I want is you, Mr. Miller.” 
Joel raises an eyebrow and huffs a small laugh. “That right?” He questions, grip getting slightly tighter on the soft flesh of your thighs. 
“Mhm.” You nod, hand cradling the back of his head. 
“What we’re doin’—this is bad.” Joel chastised, mostly to himself. 
“Relax, Joel. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck through your fingers, applying more pressure onto his groin. He grunts in response, adjusting himself slightly as the confinement of his jeans was nearly torturous at this point. 
“Fine. But we’re endin’ this whole hookin’ up thing if anyone gets even the slightest bit suspicious.” He negotiates, and you nod. 
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.” 
Joel chuckles and shakes his head, leaning up to capture your lips into his once again. You hum against him, hands moving down to his chest as your nails scratch over the thin fabric of his shirt. 
You start to grind yourself onto him again, and he groans once more before separating his lips from yours to mumble against them. “Use my thigh, baby.” He shifts you onto his left thigh, and you steady yourself on him by gripping his shoulders. 
“I don’t wanna ruin your pants.” You sigh, the pressure of your clothed clit on his thick thigh already providing the tiniest bit of relief. 
“I don’t give a shit about my pants, baby. Soak ‘em for all I care.” He presses his lips to your neck once more, and you shiver at the contact. You’re shy at first, not ever having gotten yourself off on someone’s thigh before. 
Joel senses your hesitation, so he moves his hands back up to your hips and shifts them forward, causing your soaked cunt to glide along his jean-clad thigh. 
You take over yourself, rocking your hips back and forth at a languid pace. Desperate moans are falling out of your mouth as you fist his shirt into your hands, feeling yourself so close already. 
“Joel, feels so-so fucking good.” You whine, head dropping back. Your jaw goes slack and eyebrows thread together, picking the pace of your hips up. 
“Yeah? Such a good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what she needs to get off.” 
“I need you, Joel, please.” 
Joel moved his hands to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans button to take his jeans off in the slightest, finally relieving his erection. You moaned at the sight of his thick cock, pre cum gathered at the tip. You brought your thumb to his slit, gathering the pre cum onto your finger before bringing it up to your mouth to gently suck on it. 
Joel’s jaw ticked, resisting the urge to bend you over the back of his seat and fuck you senseless then and there. Luckily, he had a lot more restraint than he thought, because all he did was just stare at you sucking seductively on your thumb. 
You shifted yourself so you were straddling both of his thighs now, and you grabbed his cock into your hand to give it a few slow tugs. Joel sucked in a breath at your touch, head being thrown back onto the headrest of the seat. You tugged your panties to the side before you ran the tip of his weeping cock through your slick folds, a lewd wetness sounding throughout the cab of the truck. 
You moaned as Joel hissed at the contact. It’d been awhile since Joel had been with someone, so he prayed to whatever god was out there that he’d be able to last. 
“C’mon baby, don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” Joel grunts, fingertips digging into your hips. You look down at him with half lidded eyes as you sank down onto his length without much resistance. 
The stretch was fucking heavenly. Your lips parted as you puffed out a pant and sucked in a breath shortly after, reaching the hilt. 
“So fucking big. Fuck.” You mewl, fingers digging into his shoulders for balance once more. 
“Stay still for a little.” Joel’s voice was strained, sounding nearly pained as he choked out his words. You felt so good wrapped around him that he just wanted to appreciate your warmth. 
Joel slid the sparkly straps of your dress down your shoulders, tugging down the neckline of your dress to reveal your breasts. His tongue darted out of his mouth to briefly wet his lips, large hands moving up to gently squeeze the soft flesh of your chest. 
“So fuckin’ perfect.” Joel whispers, moving his head down to envelope one erect nipple into his mouth while his thumb and index finger toyed with the other. You moved one hand up his chest and to the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the thick locks once more as you pushed his face deeper into your pillowy flesh. 
The feeling of his expert tongue and heavy cock in you was beginning to be too much. You needed him to move, or at least let you move. You weren’t above absolutely begging him until he gave in, but he seemed to have the same idea as his hips thrusted into you. 
You took that as an initiative to move, so you began to slowly glide yourself up and down on him. You sucked in a sharp breath as the feeling of him repeatedly filling you made your legs shake. He took his mouth off of your swollen flesh to avert his gaze to yours, eyes locking as you moved up and down. He moved a hand down to generously rub at your aching clit, causing your cunt to deliciously clench around him. 
“Gonna ruin this tight little pussy. Just you wait.” His voice is throaty and deep, sending shivers down your spine. The dangerous glint in his eye let you know that he was dead serious. 
You wanted Joel Miller to ruin every other man for you. 
That’s how this, the dangerous thing—the game—started. 
You both were determined to win at something that wasn’t even tangible; something so lucrative to both of you that the consequences wouldn’t even fucking matter. 
It didn’t matter as he took over and fucked his hips up into you at a brutal pace, causing you to orgasm violently on his cock within minutes. It didn’t matter when the windows of his truck fogged up and the drag of your fingertips adorned the glass. It didn’t matter when you reassured him he could cum in you because you were on birth control. 
As months went on after that night at the bar, him fucking you up against the wall of his shower or pounding you into your bed or eating your pussy until you physically could not breathe anymore was all that dazed your mind. 
Fuck the consequences. 
None of it fucking mattered. 
Because, over the months, Joel Miller was the kind of man you didn’t mind having in your bed after you two’ve fucked. You didn’t mind when he slept over, or when he wanted to be the little spoon, or when you both went out on dates like a normal couple would. 
The euphoria of it all didn’t last forever, though. You knew it wouldn’t, but the heavy weight and reality of it all came crashing down on you one day when Joel was buried deep into your warm cunt, both of you teetering on the edge of a climax, when your dad came knocking on your front door. Pure panic seized your body and you had to make Joel hide in your closet like a fucking teenager. 
That’s when you realized you both were way in over your head with this whole thing. Getting caught was going to be inevitable if it kept up like this. 
You were eternally grateful that your dad was a man who didn’t hover. He left your apartment after fifteen minutes and when Joel came out from hiding, you told him that it was way too close and it was too risky to keep doing what you both wanted to never put a stop to. You’d silently promised yourself that was the last time with him. 
Joel tried to argue against it, but you put your foot down. That is, until you got slightly buzzed one night and begged Joel to come fuck you. Truthfully, you didn’t even really need the sex from him. It was just a plus. You just enjoyed being around him so much that having him in some way, even if only physically, was to suffice. 
Little did you know, he felt ten times stronger than what you felt. Joel Miller would worship the ground you walked on, if you allowed him to do so. 
He was at your doorstep in no time, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with such neediness as if you’d disappear right beneath his fingertips. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of panties to which Joel discarded immediately. His thick fingers rubbed against your slick heat, hips bucking to meet the languid pace he set. 
Joel shouldn’t be here.
You promised yourself the last time would be the fucking last. 
And yet, you found yourself willingly shoved up against the wall of your living room by none other than the man you swore you’d stay away from as he leaves hot, fervent kisses along the slope of your neck.
“Joel, we—fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this. We have to stop.”
“Yeah? Not what you were sayin’ when you were practically beggin’ me to fuck you again over the phone.” He grits. He sinks his fingers into your aching cunt, prying a strangled moan from your throat.
He’s frustrated with himself. 
Frustrated that he so easily succumbed to you, allowing himself to wrap himself in the greedy need and carnal desire he had for you. Frustrated that you were twenty years younger than him, and frustrated that you should’ve been off limits.
You were supposed to be off limits, god damnit, but Joel Miller was a greedy fucking man. He just had to have you in a way that nobody else could. 
He really didn’t blame your father if he strangled the man  with his own bare hands if he ever found out what you two did behind his back, in secret, and for months at that. 
Joel knew better. 
He fucking knew better and still decided to get a taste, get a feel, fuck you like no other man had. Something his greed deliciously sunk its teeth into, allowing himself to indulge in the forbidden realm you offered to give him. 
You knew better, too. But you did get one thing you wanted, after all. 
You’d be a fucking liar if you didn’t admit that Joel Miller had officially ruined every other man for you. 
The dangers of the game had sunk its teeth so deep into both of you. It was like the world’s most impossible chess match, and one of you was finally waiting for the other to say “checkmate.” 
 The thing is, Joel lost a long while ago. 
He fucking lost the game. 
He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried, and when you called him begging him to fuck you tonight, his need for you practically drowned him in his weakness. 
Joel Miller was not a weak man. You had him under a fucking spell that he couldn’t seem to reverse. 
It’s like you were his fucking kryptonite. 
He was the one that royally fucked in the end. 
Joel wished he didn’t have these feelings that clawed at his fucking rib cage every time he glanced at you, some sort of animalistic creature trying to escape when you were under him, legs spread wide, your warmth wrapped around his cock as he buried himself in you.
Every single time he had you like that, had his lips on you, had you moaning his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings, saw your sweet smile, smelled your perfume that he loved so much, heard your contagious laugh, he knew he lost.
Checkmate. 
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tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @holesandlividity ; @planet-marz1 ; @joelmillers-whore ; @cool-iguana ; @janaispunk ; @freakygothgirl ; @survivingandenduring ; @clawdee ; @danaispunk ; @kiwisbell ; @untamedheart81
855 notes · View notes
writingoddess1125 · 3 months
Note
I just know Mihawk and Alucare would spoil the baby. I can see her being the princess of the family
Oh absolutely! Spoiled Rotten.
Princess of the House
As Mihawk is based off Dracula I've made him be Romanian 🇷🇴 and included more of the culture
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• Dracule Mihaela
• The Jewel of the Dracule Family
• From the moment she was born, she had the whole family wrapped around her tiny finger.
• She couldn't even fuss without someone to come and wait on her hand and foot.
• It didn't help that she was also a cheerful and pretty baby, A perfect mixture of you and Mihawk.
• You getting so much time to rest and recover after giving birth to her since there where three people who took care of her in your wake.
• Mihawk only allowing you to be woken up or disturbed for feedings. Everything else was handled-
• It took you throwing a fit to be given your own baby back!
• "Damn it Mihawk! She came out of me- Let me hold my damn child!" You argued with your husband, the man glumly handing her over to you to bond with.
• Dark Hair but with your hair texture, your eye shape but with his color, even her complexion a perfect inbetween of you and Mihawk's.
• Perfect in Mihawk's eyes.
• Mihawk also having the habit of holding Mihaela everywhere he went.
• After you recovered and Mihaela started to grow she was spoiled with gifts.
• Stuffed toys from Perona, Jewlery and expensive fabrics from Mihawk and homemade toys from Alucare.
• Mihaela having more gifts them she knew what to do with-
• That paired with each major milestone in her life was met with a celebration of gifts.
• Holding head up? Silver Rattle
• Smiling? Gold Rings for each finger
• Rolling over? Silk onsies
• And so much more!
• You walking into his office, tired and already a bit irritated from waking up and finding your baby missing from what was suppose to be her naptime- Knowing that she was wide awake in Mihawk's arms while he went over paperwork.
• When Mihaela wasn't in Mihawks arms- Then she was with Alucare or Perona's.
• You having to scold both Dracule men (and Perona) for holding her too much-
• Knowing damn well both men would spoil her rotten-
• That was evident When her first birthday came around-
The castle was buzzing, having outsiders welcome for the first time in- Well forever.
"Happy First Birthday My Jewel" Mihawk said happily, watching you walk into the room with Mihaela in your arms. Her dresses in a beautiful white dress Mihaek had made for her, she smiled brightly when she saw him. Waving her arms around happily.
Mihawk pulling our a box from his pocket, a pre-present separate from the mountain of gifts waiting for her. Pulling a dark blue diamond bracelet and slipping it on her little chubby wrist as he kissed her forehead making her laugh.
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"This looks expensive Mihawk-" You muttered, raising a brow at the studded bracelet as Mihaela brought it to her mouth immediately making Mihawk smile.
"That's cause it is"
After that the party started, different games and gifts being brought out. Several other pirates who had young children of their own attending as well so it was a play date for Mihaela to meet and be around others her age. As well as lavish gifts for the toddler being gifted from other powerful pirates-
Crocodile sending a solid gold rocking horse that was shaped like a Giraffe.
Shanks sending a Silver Pacifier.
Even Buggy sending a velvet lined diamond studded box filled with different toys and baby clothes.
With plenty more which made your pockets burn with how much all this could have cost.
Finally it was cake time, a soft cake being brought out for Mihaela to have for herself as a separate one was for the party.
Happy birthday was sung of course as the cake was set infronf of Mihaela after it was done- Which she Dove her face into immediately much to everyone's amusement.
Mihawk sitting next to her with a slice of normal cake for himself as he let his daughter 'speak' with him.
"Shes been babbling all day to you" You mused, watching her smudge cake all over as she babbled at Mihawk excitedly.
"Trying to share with Tată? (Dada)" Mihawk mused as he smiled down at her-
"Tată!" She said cheerfully, holding her arms out to Mihawk with some of the frosting on her hands. The man freezing in place, staring at Miha as he continued to repeat herself as he scooped her up fast, her now grabbing at his necklace to bring into her mouth.
"Her first words!" You cheer excitedly- Clapping your hands in pride as you smile brightly as your little girl. Kissing her chubby cheeks as she giggled loudly and excitedly at the attention she was getting.
"No fair-" Alucare muttered, having been trying to get her to have her first words be his name for months.
"Tată Tată!" She continued as she giggled out.
Mihawk still silent as he stared at her with wide eyes, you looking to him surprised by his lack of reaction. That was till he tightened his hold on her and began to walk outside with her-
"Where is he going?-" Alucare started, a bit miffed by his father's reaction but you held a hand up to your son with a gentle look.
You saw it- For a brief moment as Mihawk turned away from you all to carried Mihaela outside with him..
Tears rolling down his cheek.
He got her a full blown ship afterwards-
498 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
falling is easy, catching is hard
rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖
💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
December 19, 1985
Steve Harrington needed sleep.
Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.
But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.
“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”
“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.
“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”
Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.
Steve didn’t have one.
Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.
But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”
“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”
Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.
Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.
That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.
“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.
“The sleeping pills make them worse.”
“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.
“The nightmares.”
Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.
“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.
“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”
Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.
“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”
Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.
“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”
“Um. What?”
“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.
Steve was going to regret this.
God, he was so stupid.
“Yeah, okay.”
Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.
— — — — — — —
January 16, 1986
“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.
Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.
Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.
And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.
“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.
Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.
Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.
“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.
“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”
“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”
He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.
“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.
What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?
“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.
Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.
He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.
“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.
“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”
Steve wasn’t reading into that.
“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”
“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”
Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.
He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.
Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.
“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.
“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”
Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”
“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.
“Ever shotgunned before?”
Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.
“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”
Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.
Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.
And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.
Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.
“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.
Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.
Close enough to want to be closer.
“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”
“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”
Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.
“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”
“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”
It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.
Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.
Steve couldn’t breathe.
But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.
His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.
He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.
He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.
Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.
He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.
It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.
It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.
Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.
“Good?” Eddie asked.
Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.
But Steve wanted to kiss him.
Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.
Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.
So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.
“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.
“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”
“No, I-”
“Steve. You’re high.”
His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.
He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.
Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.
But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.
“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.
Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.
Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.
“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”
“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”
They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.
“Wha-?”
“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”
Steve’s brows furrowed.
Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.
“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.
Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
— — — — — — —
February 14, 1986
Steve got him flowers.
He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.
By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’
And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.
He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.
Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.
Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.
As if that could ever be an option.
This was his last chance, though.
He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.
Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.
The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.
“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”
“I said I’d bring you flowers.”
He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.
Like he was trying not to smile.
Like maybe Steve did something right.
“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.
Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.
He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.
Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.
Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.
“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”
“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.
“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”
“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”
“That’s what Wayne said, but-”
“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”
Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.
“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”
Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”
Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”
“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”
“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”
“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.
Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.
But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.
“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”
“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.
“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”
Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?
Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.
Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.
But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.
652 notes · View notes
cherryobx · 2 months
Note
Hey!! I saw that you are taking requests (I also want to procrastinate studying, lol), so I thought I would request a Rafe oneshot where maybe he is helping his girlfriend move into her dorm and a bunch of frat guys start hitting on her and asking if she needs help and he gets all territorial and jealous? Just some cute fluff? Please and thank you, lovely!!!
Move-in day || R. C.
summary: Rafe helps you move in to your dorm but becomes territorial when a guy doesn't get the hint.
word count: 1.3k
a/n: i'm not sure i like this one but bare with me i haven't written anything in more then a year so, thank you sm for the request!!! i love how all of you are supporting my procrastination and/or procrastinating yourself haha
warnings: some guy
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You unlock the door, revealing your dorm room. It’s very basic and bland but you can’t wait to start decorating it to make it feel more like home and a safe space for you to relax in. There are two single beds on each side of the room. Also two closets and tables for you and your roommate who hadn’t moved in yet. Your roommate was assigned to you by the school since you didn’t have any friends or acquaintances that were also going to this college. You’d much rather share a room with someone you know but it is what it is.
You choose a side of the room and sit on the edge of your new bed, looking around the room and taking everything in. You can’t believe you’re actually here. After all the hard work and applying to many different colleges, you got into your dream school. You’d only dreamed about this place in your head and now you’re physically here.
You then leave the room and on your way outside you dial Rafe who dropped you off and then went to find a good parking spot near the housing. 
“Yeah?” he answers the call.
“Where are you?”
He describes where he parked his car and directs you to him. You already see him from across the parking lot and give him a wave, which he returns with a big smile and a wave of his own.
The trunk of his car is popped open and he’s already stacking boxes into the carts provided by the school.
“How was it?” he asks as soon as you reach him, referring to the room. 
“Pretty okay.” You shrug and grab a few bags from the back seat, slinging them over your shoulders. Then you manage to grab a box of your books as well. It’s heavy but the room is not that far away.
“Are you sure you can carry that much?” he calls after you.
“It’s rude to call your girlfriend weak, Rafe.”
“I’m not calling you weak!” he defends himself.
“Yeah, right,” you laugh. “Third floor, 5th door on the right.”
You leave him unloading the car in the parking lot while you make your way back to the building. On the way to the third floor, you bump into some guys on the staircase. 
“Hey! Need any help with that?” one of them asks, hands already outstretched. Since your shoulders are already hurting because of the weight of the stuff you’re carrying, you accept his help. What were you thinking taking the stairs? The elevator was right there.
He takes the box from your hands and lets out a grunt. “Damn, that’s heavy! What’s in here?” he starts making his way up the stairs and you follow, adjusting the straps of the duffle bags on your shoulders. The dude’s friends follow you two, whispering something unintelligible behind your back but they’re too quiet to make out what they’re actually saying.
“My books.”
The guy chuckles and asks where your room is. You tell him and soon enough you reach the third floor. He pushes open the door leading to the third floor dorms and holds it open for you while you scramble past him to your door. You fish out the key from the pocket of your pants and open the door. 
“You can just put it on the table.” I let the guy into my room while his friends linger in the doorway.
Thanking him, you throw the bags on your bed. He places the box gently on the table and then turns to you. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N.” You give him an awkward but polite smile, hoping he’d get the hint and leave now but he leans against the desk, crossing his arms on his chest instead. He looks like he’s not planning to go anywhere.
“You wanna come to a party tonight, Y/N? Bunch of upperclassmen are throwing a little party for the freshmen. You could be my date.”
You stare at him, eyes wide. “Uhmm, thank you for the invite but no. I have a lot to unpack and-”
“Oh come on!” he interrupts. “We could have fun and get to know each other. And drink.”
“No, thank you. I appreciate your help and all but I think you should go now.”
“Don’t be like that! You haven’t even given me a chance.”
“You will not get a chance either way. I have a boyfriend.” 
“So? You’re in college now, let loose. He doesn’t have to know. ”
Meanwhile Rafe has finally made it to the third floor with the two carts full of your belongings. He pushes them out of the elevator and towards your room. Already from the elevator he can see two guys standing at your door, which he finds very suspicious. He faintly hears the conversation going on in your room and his blood starts to boil. When the two guys standing there notice him arriving, they scurry off and Rafe scoffs before entering your room.
“Know what?”
The guy leaning on your desk is startled and he stands up, not so cocky anymore. “Uhh…”
Rafe now stands between you and the guy whose name you don’t even know. He straightens his back and stares him down with that mean look he has but which he has never used on you. The other guy is obviously intimidated by him since Rafe is basically towering over his shorter frame.
“She said no. She has a boyfriend. So I suggest you leave before I punch you in the face so hard no girl will even look in your direction ever again,” Rafe growls.
“Whatever she’s not worth it anyways.” The guy shrugs and turns to leave. Rafe’s fists are clenched by his side and he looks like he’s about to strike when you place your hand on his back, making him look at you over his shoulder.
“Drop it.” Rafe takes a deep breath and you feel his shoulders relax under your touch.
The guy lets out a scoff as he leaves but Rafe’s eyes remain on you. “Are you okay?” he asks, worry laced in his voice as he turns to face you, hands now on your shoulders.
“I’m fine. He just helped me with my books and he got the wrong idea.”
“A very wrong one at that. I was so close to punching him in his stupid face for even talking to you in the first place.”
You place your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat under your palm. “You can’t stop every guy from talking to me. You’re not even here most of the time.”
“Watch me.”
“Rafe.”
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m serious. But he was a jerk anyway. I go for non-jerk guys.” Your lips are turned into a slight smirk.
“Do you now?”
“Yeah.”
“Am I not a jerk?” he asks, hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you flush against him.
“Oh, you definitely are, but just not to me.”
“I’d never be a jerk to you. You know that, baby. But you’re mine. I can’t stand the thought of guys like him talking to you.” He lets out a frustrated sigh.
“I know but I can handle myself.”
“I know you do.” But the next time he visits, he hands you a little box which contains a necklace with his name so everyone knows you’re taken.
436 notes · View notes
cherryredstars · 2 months
Note
hey I wanted to request a miles -42 x GN!reader
can we have 42-miles to be a shy,like a shy mess when he around reader?like a blushing, around reader being more nervous, can you make reader tease him about not showing his Afro (and like wishing to see it, the Afro that the original miles) ? Or letting miles to touching thigh, upper chest, in each miles is just so shy and awkward out blushing hard.
idk a sweet fluff? 🥰 PLS I need more fluff
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Pairing: Miles-42 x gn!reader
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Weed
Summary: He has the biggest crush ever.
Word Count: 950 (Not Edited)
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He’s a complete loser. 
It’s embarrassing. He’s a total loner with a singular friend. He barely has time to do anything outside of school and he’s a damn art kid. He’s one of those kids that are completely lost and has no idea what to do when their only friend is absent. And, not to brag or anything, his father is kinda dead and his mom works back to back shifts. As you can see, total cool kid material. 
But, somehow, you like him. Not in a ‘Hey dude, I dig your kinda emo vibe, do you wanna smoke weed at the back of the school and listen to Teenage Dirtbag?’ way- which is apparently a valid type of like because Miles gets that a lot- but in a ‘I actually think you’re kinda cute and I’m going to tease you until you ask me out’ like. Yeah you, like like him. And he is not a single bit normal about it. Like, at all. 
It doesn’t help that Genke keeps teasing him about his very obvious mutual crush on you. He’s already a stuttering, blushing fool whenever you’re around. Usually he’s laid back and keeps to himself, the very definition of composed. Yet, that all goes out the window when someone even mentions your name. More than once, Genke has stolen his notebook, flipping it around to show Miles the mindless sketches he was doing of you. Every single one of his notebooks has at least two spreads of just drawings of you. 
And it’s just his luck that you find out about them. 
Today, Genke is out. Somehow convinced his mom that he had a stomach virus or something. So that means Miles looks like a loner sitting at their usual lunch table alone. To pass the time, he takes occasional bites of his sandwich as he sketches in his notebook. Of course, it’s a spread of you. He’s doing some finishing touches and shading on a side profile drawing he did last period when he’s rapidly slamming the notebook shut at the sound of your voice. 
“Woah! Those look so cool!”
Please have this sandwich choke me out right now.
Miles turns to you wide eyed, swallowing nervously as you take Genke’s usual seat. You pull out a granola bar from your pocket, throwing it on the table and grabbing a juice box from your bag. He watches you intently, cheeks flaming and his neck hot. “I- that wasn’t… I mean that- sorry?”
He’s playing with his earlobe, tugging and rolling it between his fingers nervously as he stutters out an apology for being a creep. You let out a chuckle, tilting your head with a smile. Your hand grabs at the one abusing his earlobe, gently easing it away. His skin burns from the touch, electricity running through his body. He takes another nervous gulp as he watches you. He’s hyper aware of all your movements, his eyes zeroing in on the hand that goes to his hair. Usually, he doesn’t like anyone touching his hair besides his mom and his stylist, but he’s left breathless as your fingers pinch at the end of one of his braids. 
“You always have your hair in these braids. Don’t get me wrong, they look really, really good on you.” You speak up, your eyes trailing from his hair to his eyes. He feels like he’s going to pass out. “But don’t you ever let your natural hair breathe?”
Miles can feel his breath still as you pull your hand away, feeling it brush against his shoulder. In the next moment, your knee bumps against his under the table as you rearrange in your seat. Miles doesn’t know how he isn’t panting like a dog. All your small touches leave a scorching fire to his body, even if it’s through his clothing. He really wants to reach out and tease you the same way you do to him. 
“Miles? Earth to Miles?” You call out, a teasing smile on your face as you wave your hand in front of his face. He blinks rapidly, rubbing the back of his neck as he clears his throat. You laugh slightly, gathering your things as the bell rings, “Y’know, I swear you’re in your own little universe sometimes.”
Miles begins to pack up his things too. Before he can shove his notebook and pen into his book bag, you grab his pen. You click at the end of it, the nib being exposed. You grab for his hand next, and he leans in when he feels the pen glide against his palm. 
“Hey… listen.” You start off, and Miles can see the color rushing to your cheeks. “I really like those drawings, so it’d be cool if you could send them to me when you finish them.”
When you pull away, Miles bends his hand to read what you wrote. He finds a string of numbers on his palm and his breath hitches. You just gave him your number. You slip the pen in the flap of his notebook, hitching your bag higher up your shoulder and giving him a shy smile. You begin to slowly back away, giving him a small wave. 
“Bye, Miles. See you in physics.”
Miles is still dumbfounded when you walk out of the cafeteria. His eyes fall back to the strings of numbers, blinking down at them. He only starts moving when one of the teachers on cafe duty yells at him that he’s going to be late for class. But even then he can’t help the smile that slowly forms on his face.
Genke is going to lose his marbles when he tells him.
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mossnymphh · 2 months
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Would AK!Jay be okay with Reader helping him patch up his wounds? And if not what about patches up some of his clothes if they have rips or bullet holes in them from patrol? Reader just wants to help out anyway they can without crossing his boundaries.
For the sake of the scenario Jason and reader are not in a relationship yet because later down the line reader would be the only one he'd be comfortable enough to ask to do these things for him.
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Jason had found his way down your apartment. Again. All bruised and bloody. 𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. Very odd for a man that says he most definitely doesn't need your help, oh and most definitely wouldn't like your soft hands taking care of his jagged battle scars.
He says he doesn't like the idea of it but he does. What he can't stomach is the act in physical form. In his brain palace he can fantasize all he wants about being cared for and comforted. Nobody has to know that the big bad Red Hood dreams of someone's hands soothing his pain. Nobody has to know that a person's touch can churn his stomach in the worst way possible too. Jason hates weakness, his the most.
So when you come running to the living room of your small one bedroom apartment with no weapon in hand he can feel his mind going rampant. Are you stupid? What if it wasn't him and an intruder? Why would you come out all vulnerable and ready to help like that, your expression one of alarm and most noticeably worry.
"Why did you come running like that? Where's the gun I gave you?"
His real voice is jumbled with the static his modulator is producing. He really wants to tear the damn thing off of his head, but you're here. You who's looking at him with so much worry it's making his heart ache in a way he doesn't like and doesn't want to acknowledge. God damn your doe eyes.
He takes his helmet off and puts it down on the tiled floor, not as gently as he'd like. Sure it's damaged equipment but it's not like his money is endless when it comes to gadgets.
"Because I knew it was you! Who else comes through my apartment at 3 am in the morning."
You say in a heartbeat, inching closer to him step by careful step. You knew that he doesn't like it when you're in too much of a close proximity, especially when he's 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. Much like an injured dog, you think. Snarling at the other even though they need help.
"Could have been someone trying to fucking rob you or whatever the hell crawls round Gotham at night."
His tone is sharp, and cold. Reprimanding you like he didn't just break into your apartment right now. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 you want to ask him. But you like it when he comes by, even for this. You like him way too much damn it, yet you hawl your feelings to the deepest crevices of your heart because you think there's no chance.
Jason slumps down on the couch while putting pressure on his abdomen. One of Black Masks men, a big brute, stabbed him with all he had. Nothing vital was hit but that doesn't exactly help to ease the pain. Another scar to add to his body.
You don't even pay attention to his harsh words anymore, too used to them when he's in high alert to bother. You already know the routine. There's antiseptic in one of the pouches in his utiliy belt and you already have gauze and basic suture materials that you'd need for Jason's unexpected visits. Hell, you'd run to the bathroom to get the small kit before you'd come to the living room. You're expectant, it makes Jason uncomfortable that he's becoming predictable like this to you. He's lingered way too much around your apartment and he doesn't want to admit that it's because it feels like home to him, you feel like home to him. You even have a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie ready for him to change in! Who does that? Who even would bother? Why does he feel like he wants to fall asleep with his head on your lap-wait-no.
"Give me that."
He gestures to the small metallic box in your hand.
"You-you look like shit! Worse than usual! Do you seriously think you're lucid enough to stitch yourself up?"
He grits his teeth and presses harder into the wound.
"This isn't the time to argue."
He retorts while biting back a groan of pain.
"Let me stitch you up."
You say in a determined voice as you sit down on the couch next to him. Your heart is pumping in fear and worry for him. Why doesn't he understand? Why won't he let you do this for him?
"Don't touch me."
It's stern and hard and you think for a moment that he might bite your hand off if you act without permission. It's desperate in a way too, with the way his voice cracks like it's a breaking barrier,overloaded with emotion.
"Jason, please. You're really hurt, let me do this for you."
You counter in your own desperate way and it shows through, even though you try to keep your voice soft and convincing. Your eyes betray you too.
However.
You set the kit down on the couch next to him. Your own desperation can come second, it's his boundary that comes first. You can't help him if he doesn't want you to, as hard as it is for you to accept.
You set it down and as a peace offering you say.
"Can I at least patch your jacket up. It looks even worse than you."
You try to weasel in a bit of a humorous tone in the sentence, so that it comes out light hearted. Jason doesn't miss it for one bit, even as he gets his hands on the kit and pretends to be way too occupied with sterilizing the curved needle.
He doesn't like the way his heart is beating right now, so he'll blame it on the adrenaline in his system.
"Just-just take it with you while I patch myself up. Don't stay near me."
He doesn't like it that he agreed, even though he wanted you to do it. He'll wear that jacket everytime he goes out into the night now, that's for sure. His very own good luck charm in this world that gave him none through his life.
If that ain't the most bittersweet smile you'd given him.
Jason will save the image in his mind, the part that's willing to accept how much he truly cares for you.
He may not be able to take your touch but he'll try and compromise. For you, and for himself too. So you mending his damaged jacket 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 is the next best thing at the moment.
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My favorite genre is two idiots that love each other but are too slow to understand lol. I love pining.
I hope you enjoyed this anon 👋.
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shegetsburned · 4 months
Text
ꨄ 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨’𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞
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requested by anon!
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first of all, he’d need someone who understands how busy he can be and how important his job is. he won’t have a lot of time for you and his mind will always be wandering towards his work, so having a good understanding of his situation will help.
being his type would also mean being able to listen and comfort him during his darkest moments. he goes through horrible stuff every day and if his special someone doesn’t acknowledge these feelings, it might be difficult.
talking about feelings, he barely ever shows them, and his type would be someone that can discern these tiny signs of discomfort, anger and sadness and find a way to appease his heart.
his type would also be someone who likes to have fun. proposing a night out doing karaoke, going to the movies, going out with some friends. basically, changing his mind from everything happening.
being gojo’s ideal type also means being able to realize how lonely it is at the top. he’s one, if not, the greatest sorcerer of his generation. nobody can beat him and he can beat anybody. he’s the strongest. and it gets lonely. you have to be present for him.
having his sense of humour would definitely be a plus. seeing you laugh at his joke would brighten his day for sure.
okay, yeah. he’s kind of immature, in a way. so someone that knows how to handle this kind of personality, as in you won’t get angry because he does stupid shit and doesn’t care about the consequences of his actions.
also someone who knows how to bear with him. i know damn well he’d go days without giving you any news before getting back to you. you’re gonna have to find something to hold on to while he’s gone.
being satoru’s ideal type would include being able to satisfy his sweet tooth. making sure there are always sweets at home and sometimes baking him the pantries that he likes so much.
i feel like he likes someone that’s easily flustered. someone who quickly responds to his teasing and gets annoyed. honestly, if he’s not annoying you, is he really the one?
finally, being satoru gojo’s ideal type would include being as obsessed over him and his overall well-being as he is over you- but I feel like you already check that box if you’re reading this.
© shegetsburned 2023. Please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.
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kurogxrix · 9 months
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omg stark!reader n Peter in stark tower flirting and tony teases them (hopefully mutual pining and like they haven’t confessed to each other yet)
Dedicate Your Heart
Peter Parker x Stark!reader
A/N: reader can be seen as Tony’s biological or adopted daughter :)
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“To your left Spider-Man!” had been the last thing that Peter had heard before getting shoved to the side, quite painfully so be the stack of boxes that you had been carrying. The tower of cardboard threatened you with a stagger as you bumped into Peter, before peacefully settling back in place. 
Despite it being a mid saturday morning, you found yourself in your father’s lab instead of in the comfort of your dear room. Though you’d already agreed to help him, so there was no way you could turn back on him now. Admitively you weren’t here totally by your own will, you’d solely done it because Tony had teased you about being some edgy teenager that sticks in her room all day. And while you were, admitting with no shame that staying slumped on your bed while blasting some old school rock through your headphones was definitely a vibe, you decided to prove to your dad that there were many other things that you could do to render that brain of yours utile.
It wasn’t like your father was a stranger to your accomplishments, far from that. 
Setting the boxes down on the countertop, you couldn’t help the heavy groan that escaped your mouth. You didn’t have super strength like most of the other people living in the tower, and damn could a few boxes make your backache go crazy. Nevertheless, throughout your struggle, you failed to notice the way that a certain curly haired brunette had his eyes stuck on you for the duration of your time here. 
Peter had not even said anything after you had brutally (in his dictionary. You’d argue and say that it was playfully) shoved him away with your boxes. Instead, his eyes lingered on your form. He nearly had to slap himself after his iris laid on your torso for a little too long, but could you blame him? 
The skin-tight black tank top that you often wore while working in the lab was just so attractive to Peter. 
He watched as the shirt slid up a couple of inches as you stretched, exposing a sliver of your stomach and rippling the muscles in your arms. Sure you weren’t as bulky as Thor yet alone Hulk, but fighting crime alongside the avengers and training with them did flatter your physique. God, Peter was sure that he must’ve been drooling by now. What a fool. 
“You want a picture too or are you too busy engraving the sight in your mind?” your voice shook Peter out of his stance, a bright red colour raising upon the back of his neck as you caught him checking you out red handed. The sole sound of your assertive tone had him doubling over, at least in his head, because he could avoid being humiliated furthermore. 
“Hey, wasn’t it you that chose my outfit for our last gala? Heard from a little birdie that it was because you thought i’d look handsome in it?” Peter retaliated, though his voice held more diffidence than yours did. You froze upon his admission, the metallic parts of the gadget that you were working on released a loud ‘thud’ as it came down to hit against the countertop. You winced at the sound, internally cursing your mother figure, Pepper, for exposing your secret. 
It was true though, and there was no point in denying it now that it was out in the open. You could still remember the exact moment that Tony had informed you all about some gala that you had to attend alongside him, some rich guy thing. Although you protested, he insisted. So that’s how you’d ended up in this position, having to choose a partner that was actually your age to accompany you there. It wasn’t that you necessarily needed one so badly, but every other avenger already had someone to accompany them, but the age gap between yourself and the rest of your team already made you feel sort of excluded in most things, so bringing a date it was. 
Beyond everyone else, your first thought was to ring Peter up and ask him about it. After all, he was perfect for the job. He already knew your father and he was always so enthusiastic for whatever journey you’d reserve for him. Only problem was, well…Peter was broke. So given that you were the daughter of a billionaire, you might’ve as well dressed him up. Though as soon as you thought about Peter in a specific suit, you felt your brain short circuiting in awe. 
It took you a moment to recover from your lone embarrassment. How could the mere thought of a man get you so riled up? It was those kinds of questions that you’d always bring up to yourself when it came to Peter, and on that night, you came to the fact that you might’ve had feelings for the boy. Naturally, as a teenage girl, you would’ve firstly ran to your phone to text your friends about it. Though you ran short on these, being a Stark, you knew how people could get once they indulged in another’s’ money and clout. The ideas of having friends apart from the avengers had completely been wiped clean out of your mind after a few failed attempts.  
You thought about telling Natasha, and as much as you loved the older woman, you dreaded the way  she’d tease you if you ever opened up about your feelings for a certain Spider-man. So, telling your mother it was. 
“My mom is such a snitch.” you mumbled under your breath, supposedly to yourself but the chuckle that escaped Peter told you that it came out a little  
louder than expected. The lab was relatively quiet after that, other than the sounds of you piecing things together and Peter’s loud thinking as he made a virtual maquette of what he was planning. To the both of you, the secret glances that you were exchanging might’ve gone over your heads, but not to a certain billionaire playboy that stood by the elevator door. Well scratch that, ex-playboy. 
Once again, the lab was quiet. Almost too quiet for it to be containing the both of you teens in there, Tony thought to himself. He was no stranger to Peter’s feelings towards you, neither were the other avengers, nor yourselves at that. The flirting was nothing new to the obscene things that the poor heros were bound to see, and it was almost too much for them to handle. It was like a constant war between teammates that was happening in the tower. One side would agree with the fact that you were both oblivious to each other’s feelings, while the other half believed that you were both very aware, but undeniable cowards when it came to outwardly confessing. 
Your dad fell in the team of people who believed that you both knew you liked each other. How could he not? He had to suffer through your endless flirting and playful banners everyday. Plus, he knew admiration when he saw it. He is Tony Stark after all, he’d received many lovestruck looks in his youth, and they’d only multiplied as he aged.
Amidst his work, Peter couldn’t concentrate for any longer with the amount of noise that you were causing. Your patience ran short as you tried to forcefully shove a metal piece against another, not understanding why it wasn’t fitting together. One look at you and he could tell that you were frustrated. Your creased eyebrows, that slightly disgusted look that you wore on your face, it all told the same exact story. Narrated through your eyes that were piercing daggers at the poor gadget before you, Peter knew better than to just leave you alone. Mainly because he feared for the poor object, a woman’s wrath is not to be played with. 
“I mean, kiss me if i’m right but, this piece most definitely goes here.” Peter took the piece from your hand, startling you slightly as he appeared out of thin air. His words rang inside your head for a second, the thoughts of kissing Peter making you feel dizzy after so long of chasing one another. The endless nights spent awake just to text Peter and the amount of time that you’d sneak out just to meet up with the curly haired boy. It all meant more than it would let off, and that was much considering nearly everyone thought you two were already dating. 
You allowed Peter to take the segment of your father’s work from your hands, placing it in a slot that was laid idiotically close to the one that you were trying to force it in. Without hesitation, you hurriedly plugged in the machine, and with enthusiasm, you watched as your father’s project lit up successfully. 
In the midst of everything, Peter could barely makeout that time that it had taken you to turn around and engulf him in your embrace. Warm and familiar arms welcoming him as they latched behind his neck, he nearly doubled back at your force. 
“I’d kiss you but that’d just destroy everything that we’ve built throughout these years now, wouldn’t it?” you bat your eyelashes up at him, the side of your face flushed against his chest as Peter looked down at you with those doe eyes of his. You could’ve sworn that it wasn’t you that was trying to soften him with that sweet look, but quite the inverse. 
You both indulged in the moment, guilty of relishing the other with nothing else but your eyes. Though what lied in your iris told another story than one that’s platonic, your mouths just couldn’t allow yourselves to confess. It wasn’t that you both were oblivious to the other’s feelings, you both just feared the change of dynamic that’d come with altering this relationship into a romantic one. 
You feared that your teasing texts would turn into unceasingly mushy ones. And Peter feared that if anything bad was to happen between you two, he’d lose you forever, even as a friend. Though you both were young and understanding, you set asid the thought of making anything official for now. 
As you continued to stare into Peter’s eyes, you couldn’t help but lean further into him, closer up. He reciprocated your motion, pupils never straying away from your own as his breath hitched under the circumstances. Sure you weren’t ready for a relationship with Peter now, but what harm was there with a little kiss? You could always be all up in eachothers faces one day and fist-bump like highschool best-friends on the other. 
“Oh and cut it to the wedding scene already, we’ve been through too much foreplay!” there came the clap of his hands before his words, and soon was your father’s cover blown. You both froze at the teasing tone of his voice, familiar so, it was impossible to escape the Stark banter. You almost scoffed audibly before remembering the position that you were currently in. Peter felt his heartstrings being tugged at once he felt you parting away from him, but yet again, you guys were nothing more than just friends. 
The rise of crimson colour upon Peter’s cheeks was a cute sight to see, and admitively you’d spend more time admiring him in his flustered state, but for now, you had an irritated attitude to put on for your father. 
“For how long have you been stalking us, old man?” you rolled your eyes at your father, crossing your arms above your torso as you stared him down. The smirk that played on Tony’s face irked you, and you wanted nothing more than Pepper walking in and telling him off. God only knows how much a husband fears his wife, and Tony more than feared his own. He laughed shortly, throwing his head back as though you had said the funniest thing ever heard by men. Peter just stood there in all of his awkwardness, moving his head to gaze at your father and you relentlessly like some cartoon character. 
“Long enough to know that your little flirting in my  lab is disgusting, get your own to do that crap over there.” he responded sarcastically, a Tony Stark trait. 
“I was not flirting with your daughter, Mr Stark!” Peter retaliated nervously, his words coming out faster than his mind could comprehend. He felt even more stressed as he watched his superior stare him down with an amused expression on, feigning comprehension before opening that mouth of his once more. 
“Right and that explains why you were just about to kiss her? Cmon kids, I was anything but born yesterday.” Tony laughed at you both once more, and clearly, he was enjoying this way more than the two of you. 
Before any of you have the time to respond, your father was already on his way out. With his back facing towards you, he plucked his iconic sunglasses from the pocket of pants, the arc reactor peeking through the fabric of his thin summer shirt. 
“Be sure to be safe, your kids could end up just like my lovely daughter, and I'm sure none of you guys are ready for this!” your father turned around swiftly  to wink playfully at you, sending the pair of you finger guns as he walked backwards towards the elevator. Lord, how much did you wish for him to slip and break his saunter, but a man such as Tony was too smooth in his ways. With the humiliation of his words running thick through your veins, and your head in your hands in shame, you’d promised yourself that you’d get your revenge on your dear father. Somewhat, someday.
The sound of the elevator’s ‘ting’ sent relief coursing throughout Peter and you, now that your father is gone, you’d have to deal with the other situation at hand. 
“We weren’t flirting right? Just talking as friends?” Peter nervously rambled as soon as you turned back around to face him. His words were the opposite of what he wanted, of course he wanted you both to flirt as more than friends, but he didn’t want to scare you if anything. His hand was itching a spot behind his neck, where nothing irritated him, it was just an anxious habit that he had. Trying to surpass a chuckle, you sauntered your way towards the brunette. 
Peter’s eyes widened comically as you raised a hand towards him, and his thoughts ran wild with anticipation. Was this it? Were you finally going to surpass this fear of commitment and just kiss him? His shoulders dropped visibly when your hand came to remove his own from his neck, saving him from the rash that he was bound to develop after itching the same spot repetitively like he always did. 
Peter’s heart did an nearly audible ‘oh’ in disappointment. Though on the outside, he was all shiny smiles and full set of teeth on display. He was ready to move past what you had, but if you couldn’t meet him halfway, how could he act on it? 
Peter observed with keen eyes as you walked back to your spot, sending a curt notice to F.R.I.D.A.Y, asking to press play on your playlist. 
Suddenly, Peter’s disappointment was replaced with something else. With dedication, perhaps. He vowed to make a change in what you had by the end of this year, promising himself to prove to you that maybe a relationship with him wasn’t so bad. That you could work things out like two responsible people if anything were to happen. He just urged to get a taste of you, of what it was like to wake up and be more than just your best bud. 
-
i wrote this with a swollen thumb and i half-asleep mind so please don’t judge😭
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watermelonsugacry · 8 months
Note
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Y/n applying lotion on his torso..!
It would be last minute..and he would run to her and be like
‘Be quick’
NO BC THIS IS THE DOMESTIC SHIT THAT GOES ON ALL THE TIME WHEN THEY'RE ON TOUR TOGETHER
Ever since the couple has arrived to their hotel room, YN has been bugging him about applying sunscreen to his torso. Especially now more than ever since he chooses to basically go topless on stage (she'll never complain about that) while playing in an outdoor venue in Barcelona.
The first time she brought it up was in their hotel bathroom. Harry, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, was busy untangling the necklaces around his neck when his wife comes into the room. She holds the bottle out to him with a suggestive tone and a raise of her brow.
He stands frozen for a second, eyeing the sunscreen with a contemplative hum before decidedly shaking his head.
"M'good, baby. Thank you."
She narrows her gaze at him, flickering her eyes from the bottle to her husband, before saying, "M'gonna bring it anyways."
YN turns on her heel but before she can fully leave the room, he reaches over and smacks the underside of her bum just to hear her squeak. He chuckles to himself when he sees her hand peek back into the room to show her middle finger at him.
The next time she brings up the sunscreen, is when he's doing a sound check later that day.
She watches from the sidelines, perched on top of an equipment box as she sits in on Harry and the Love Band rehearse before the show tonight. The yellow sunnies sitting on her face help block some of the glare from the bruiting sun reflecting from the massive stage. Everyone has the same idea along with shorts and some type of short sleeve top for their attire.
As much as YN loves to watch Harry in a white tank top, black Ray Bands, and a clip securing his curls on the top of his head, she wants nothing more than to sooth his tan skin with a protective layer of SPF.
While Harry talks some things over with Pauli and the horns ensemble, YN perks up when Sarah waves her over.
Harry's eyes flick over to his wife up on the platform with his drummer, helping apply lotion to the top of Sarah's back before going back to his conversation.
Soon enough, YN's offering sunscreen help to the rest of the band like a mom at a soccer game. Even Mitch rubs some over his arms while YN dollops a blob on his nose. Everyone happily accepts her offer...well, almost everyone.
When the band rehearses Grapejuice, Harry waltz up to where his wife sits as he sings, "There's never been someone else so perfect for me."
When she waggles the bottle in his face, he gives her a cheeky smile, playfully grabbing and tossing the bottle to the side. Before she can even get one word out in protest, he tugs her off her seat and pulls her in close as he sings.
She tries to pull away as he brings them to the middle of the stage, but his grip on her is strong.
His high notes go wobbly as he giggles, watching as YN gives up her efforts to escape. Eventually, she succumbs to his swaying and lopsided smile and slow dances with her husband for the rest of the song.
The last time she brings up the sunscreen is in his dressing room. And this time around, she doesn't ask.
Harry is already dressed for the stage and was busy tying his shoe laces when his wife's heels come into view. Not even a second later, so does that damn sunscreen bottle.
"Put it on."
"M'fine. I don't need it." Harry tries to reason. "It's gonna be night time when I'm performing out there anyways."
He holds back the temptation to smile at her stubborn look but he knows that'll only make her frustrated. But given that the cute pinch in her brow is already there, he guesses there's no point in trying to hide his smirk.
Plus, it's really hard to not already have a pleased expression at the sight of her in a silk blue dress that was only waiting to be taken off of her body by the end of the night.
"I don't care. Put on the fookin' lotion."
"No."
"Your chest has been red since the last show."
"You look beautiful."
"You're getting sunburned!"
"No m'not."
Before he can get another out, YN presses the pad of her index finger into the a spot by the one of the shallows tattooed on his chest and he hisses at the sting from his inflamed skin. He bats her hand away and notices how the yellow imprint from her finger slowly fades back to red. Despite the clear indication that she's right, he still doesn't say anything.
Even married, he can't let go of his pride to being wrong to his love. He's denied her of her help all day that it would only embarrass him and make him look bad if he gives in now.
Knowing this herself, YN tucks her lips in with a shrug. She places the bottle on the vanity and decides to leave the matter alone. She tried, and if he needs to have aloe vera be applied to his skin when it begins to peel, well, he could do that himself.
Despite how frustrated, irritated or upset the two might be at each other before a show, they're never ones of break their traditional pre-show ritual.
She cups his face and presses a short kiss to her husband's lips.
"Have fun out there. You're gonna do great. I love you."
His mouth opens to say something, anything, as she turns to walk out the room, but no words come out. Instead, he's left to finish getting ready with the icky feeling of guilt settling in and that damn bottle staring back at him.
Before the show starts, YN and her manager, Jenny, walk backstage to get to their designated spot in the pit for family and friends. She turns her head to the sound of feet hitting the pavement and a call of her name.
She furrows her brows when she sees Jeff and her husband running up to her, his cropped blue vest in hand instead of on his torso.
"What's wrong? Everything alright?" YN's voice is laced with concern given that he's supposed to be moments away from being on stage.
"Be quick." He pants out of breath. She's confused for a moment at what he could possibly mean. It's when she looks at what he's shoved in her hand that it finally clicks. She's quickly popping the cap off the bottle and squirting some lotion in the palm of her hand. After handing the sunscreen to her manager, she rubs her hands together before lathering up his torso, his abs, his chest--anywhere she can cover.
"Aw did you have to put on a little sunny-screen because your mummy told you to?" Jeff teases in a baby voice before breaking out in a laugh, only to receive a slap on the arm from Jenny.
YN doesn't even hit him back with a witty comment. Too smug, smiley and occupied with smoothing the lotion over her husband's broad shoulders and down his arms to care. So much so, that she doesn't even notice when Lloyd takes a few quick pictures of the couple before running off to take his place on stage.
She rubs the remaining bits of lotion over the apples of his cheeks, his t-zone, and his nose before taking hold of his face to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.
"Okay, yeh all set."
He shakes his head at the smugness written all over her beautiful features. It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone how he always folds for her in the end, no matter how strong headed both of them are.
"You're lucky I love you."
"Please, you're the lucky one."
"Damn right I am," He grins at her giggle as he pulls her back in for another kiss. Too enthroned and stupidly in love with this woman, he doesn't think twice about cupping her cheek with one hand while his arm circles around her waist, deepening what was supposed to be a short and sweet kiss.
"Um, H?" Jeff calls after a moment. "You got a show to do, remember?"
"Mhm, yeah." Harry mumbles out of the corner of his mouth to not completely break the kiss, fully enclosing himself around his wife while her arms go around his neck. "Be there in a sec."
Jenny's back is the the couple, her hands clasped together as she looks up at the ceiling to give them their privacy. She already knows that its best to just let them be than trying to break them apart; for Harry's shows anyway. But when it comes for her singer, she's hustling YN to be on stage, ready to perform, and on time.
Jeff on the other hand is looking down the empty hallway, anxiously looking at the watch on his wrist before scratching at his brow. He spares a glance at the two with a pained expression.
"You Love Birds need to go on a second honeymoon or some something, you horny fucks."
"Way ahead of you, Jeffery."
Harry give a lopsided grin at YN's words, pressing another smearing kiss to her lips. The two weeks they used for their honeymoon back in January was barely enough time for anything before having to go back on their respected world tours. With both of their show numbers decreasing by the week, the married couple plans to go MIA for a very long time: drinking wine at their private villa in Italy, walking along the shore at their getaway beach house in Malibu, tangled under the sheets in their bedroom in France.
From their spot backstage, they can hear the field full of fans begin to scream in excitement as the intro video plays. Desperate, Jeff turns to the wife for some complacency. "Mrs. Styles? Unless you want your husband to be out of a job in the next 60 seconds?"
YN pulls away with a smile, biting her lip as her husband looks down at her like he's one kiss away from canceling the show.
"Think of me when you're out there." She closes her eyes when he bumps their foreheads together, nearly melting when he rubs their noses together; a soft and loving gesture despite the dirty thoughts swimming in his head.
"Always." Harry answers easily, bringing her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the rock on her finger.
With a new sense of spunk and pump to be on stage, Harry throws a sly wink to his wife before maneuvering around her and walks towards the stage. YN's eyes linger on his back muscles as he lifts his arms in the air, looping them through the arm holes in his cropped vest.
His words are cheeky and light as he says over his shoulder, "You coming, Jeffery?"
.
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kunikuma · 9 months
Text
patch 1.2 // “hey, heard you like these, bought you like 8 boxes of ‘em.“ 🥭
relationship | streamer!kuni x gn!reader
synopsis | after bestowing fruit to you the other day, kunikuzushi was alone in a grocery store with the shopping list. and he’s at the produce section. 1v1: kuni vs his innate desire to make sure youre fed and happy. content | fluff cw | swearing i make a lube joke oops, and it seems like he roasts u for makeup and money but nawr. not the case. a/n | soft and domestic house husband scara is cute and i couldnt help myself. eek. an excuse for me to write kuni shopping, and being cute.
♡ patch 1.1 // masterlist for kuni’s patch notes — ✧ !
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it was not grocery shopping day, but the two of you could have planned your last run better.
alas, the two of you didn't. so on his off-day, the irritated streamer found himself lacing up his shoes and heading out in the rain to get a few missing ingredients for dinner. unfortunately, to his partially concealed displeasure, you were busy streaming a new game to your community, so you had to opt out of ‘yay, quality time!’
he did click his tongue and turned away from you when he heard that earlier.
upon announcing he was missing a few things and needed to head to the local grocery store, you pouted and said you had 'felt sooo bad' and woefully wiped an imaginary tear... grieving that you couldn’t help with the shopping and you were ‘stuck at home doing suuuch boring things’. 
he had merely scoffed and waved you off, commenting that he could handle shopping by himself while you entertained your community. besides, based on personal experience, you'd just drag him down a random aisle and spend extra money, anyways. probably buy some random room decor that clashed with his apartment's vibe. 
he’s thinking about the eyesore plushies you put on his couch.
kunikuzushi was the one who liked curating the grocery list for each night’s dinners, neatly crossing off each item as he dropped them into the silver cart at the market. he just… happened to forget a few things this week. not his fault; probably yours, if he had to surmise. 
these days, the two of you had a shared note on each person’s phone where someone listed their desired items. you had started it after you complained there wasn’t enough room to write your items on his sticky notes. pursing his lips, he could hear your complaints even now as he walked through the overly white fluorescent lighting in the store.
‘kuni, the little cat picture in the corner is cute, but it literally takes up a quarter of the damn note. get with the times, grandpa. check this shit out—‘
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while kunikuzushi preferred walking into stores with a pen he had stolen from his mother's office and a sticky note crumpled in his back pocket, he had to begrudgingly admit the electronic approach made things a lot easier ever since you moved into his apartment. another mouth to feed and suddenly, his little slip of paper wasn’t sufficient when you started annoyingly mixing your spam texts with pleas for snacks on the way home. or scrawling over his items with your own chicken scratch.
his neatly manicured thumb scrolled through his notes before pulling it up. when he pulled up the note again to mark ‘garlic’ off the list, he squinted as he scanned for what else he needed for the evening. fortunately, he had half the mind to check the pantry and fridge before heading out, so most of the produce was accounted for.  
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he had already gotten your snacks and shampoo. the conniving young man debated on grabbing you a garbage shampoo brand but decided against it, deeming it unworthy of a few bucks for the joke. 
...he tossed in your joke item for the fun of it. 
navigating the cart through the store, he finds himself in the seafood section, peering into the cold, open fridges to find a rosy-toned fish. he hums to himself as he scans the various styrofoam-packed salmons, eyeing the price tags on each of them. god, the economy was horrid-
dully, he mulls over how expensive everything was getting and he grumbles to himself about how seafood couldn’t be on the menu as often as before. unless you were willing to chip in with the cash. or if he was willing to drop a quick ‘hello’ to his mother; he’s sure she’d scramble a few hundred his way. he rolled his eyes at the thought of him mom shoving money into his account, thinking that was the way to rekindle their relationship.
anyways. seafood. dogshit economy.
feedin’ for two or whatever. 
well, not in that sense.
“...do they even want salmon?’ he wonders as he paws through the pile of sealed fish to find a smaller fillet for the two of you. leftovers were always welcomed, but he'd get tired of leftovers after a few nights in a row. while he wasn’t entirely sure if you’d like fish tonight, he knew who did:
him.
so, tonight was salmon since you weren’t there to stop him. sucks to suck; maybe don’t stream. maybe. maybe cook your own food? 
he’s kidding. sorta.
with mild delight, the pleased young man grabbed a fillet of skinless salmon and gently placed it into his cart as he scanned the aisle markers to find the beauty section. as he rolls his cart into the aisle, the indigo-haired male was greeted with various brands of drugstore makeup. as his eyes scan for the familiar packaging of your cosmetics, he scoffs at the shoddy selection. 
the wall of eye products was messily kept and a lot of the sections were not even in stock.
“intentionally using cheap makeup for such a delicate and pretty part of your face?” he mutters, spinning and catching his phone in his hand. he trails over and squats in front of the brand you like, but frowns as he notices even your eyeliner was out of stock. in the back of his mind, he could hear your jabs about him being a rich brat and buying overpriced black and red liner.
kunikuzushi would only huff in response every time, fully knowing he’d get to tease you harder when you’d both get caught in the rain and only your makeup was smudged and melting. while you’d whine at him, he’d only smirk as he used a tissue to tidy your face up. holding your cheek in his hand, you’d pout at him and he’d briskly tut at you, commenting about how ‘you’re being quite the brat, don’t you think?’
truthfully, he wasn't judging you for using what worked within your budget. he just found it irking you didn't want to accept his offers to supply you with something he thought worked infinitely better. last month, he had nonchalantly left a fresh tube on his dresser near your jewelry. when he saw both your jewelry and the tube missing, he walked to the bathroom in hopes of finding you prepping for the day. when he coughed and leaned against the doorframe, you whipped around. with a sheepish stare, you tossed it back to him, only for him catch it and dryly comment that he conveniently ‘received an extra in the mail’ and ‘you were welcome to have it, seeing that you already tainted it with your germs’ as he twirled the liner back in your direction.
he knew you liked it, noting that you were reaching for it (and not your old one) when you wanted to accentuate your eyes for the day. seeing that you went back to requesting your old tube of tar, he figured you were too shy to ask him for more or didn't want to spend the extra cash. 
in the corner of his eye, he could see himself beaming slightly in the small mirror riddled with lipstick and nail polish swatches; with your choice actually out of stock, he didn't have to come up with an excuse for failing to buy it. 
“...just let me spoil you for once,” he swallows thickly to himself as he rises from his squatted position and heads off for the last item on his list. as he exits the aisle, cursing when the cart squeaked as he navigated left, he fiddles on his phone to let you know your makeup was a no-go. he rolls his eyes at your message of ‘booo, lame. get there faster next time 🤡!’
kunikuzushi huffs and pockets his phone, the old sticky note crinkling deep inside.
in the produce section, the young man was strolling through the rows of vibrant fruits and vegetables. inspired by recent events with a knife and fruit, he had one thing in mind and one thing left on the list.
he stops right in front of a small six-pack of mangoes and clicks his tongue when he notes the lack of options.
even these were out of stock today?
gruffly, his eyes dart around the area, checking to see if he could find the familiar cardboard box containing at least twenty-four mangos. that big box of mangoes would sit peacefully on the pantry floor while nearly ripe ones were transferred to the fruit bowl until they were fully ready for munching… and kunikuzushi was quite good at knowing exactly when that was.
“are you fuckin’ kidding me?” he hisses as he lifts the plastic packaging high above his stature to examine the six mangoes for bruising. as he rotates the plastic casing, he squints at the cute stickers riddling the skin, “organic, too? i know damn well these plump shits are not organic,” he clicks his tongue in irritation when he notices the group he was holding was so verdant; upon glancing at the others, he realized they were all green and unripe, but at least at various degrees.
irritated, he growls lowly as he plops the plastic packaging of overly green mangos into his cart, dutifully separating them from the salmon. the pack sat right where a baby would’ve sat. he ignores the amused stare of a produce stocker nearby. 
but…
he eyes another pack.
‘normally, i’d buy that large box of them… six isn’t enough,’ he mulls over, leaning against the handle of the cart, wheeling it back and forth.
since you streamed a few times a week, and he enjoyed was forced to give you snacks, six honey mangoes would not last for the two of you. especially since he liked having some fruit as dessert. while kunikuzushi’s track record for cutting ripe fruit was damn near perfect, the occasional bitter surprise would find its way onto your desk midstream and he’d snatch it back for himself when he'd see a slight grimace grace your visage.
give him five minutes and you’ll find a plate of freshly cut and sweet fruit on your desk. turn around and you’ll find kunikuzushi idly scrolling on his phone, nibbling on the bitter pieces without complaint.
he snatches another set and sets them gently into baby seat of the cart.
but twelve is still obviously not twenty-four.
he stood there, thinking admittedly a little too intensely about this as he impatiently tapped his foot against the linoleum floor.
doing the math…
taking into account the number of days you both streamed and how many meals he’d like to have fruit with…
how many potential bitter ones ruining his record...
his amethyst eyes narrow as he glowers at another set innocently sitting at the top of the pile.
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“oho, welcome back! let me help you,” you cheered as he grunted and stepped through the door with every single plastic bag in his arms. you tutted as you removed a bag one by one from his arms, rubbing the reddening and marred skin. as you relieved him of the purchases, you tsked at his lightly soaked shirt from the rain, bounding over to the kitchen to explain you also just ended your stream. kunikuzushi only nodded now and then as you hummed to him what you and your chat had done today. a nod or scoff pointed in your direction, depending on the information you were sharing as he dried himself off.
“... could you believe that? her boyfriend left her,” you start, talking about insider knowledge about other streamers in the community. if kunikuzushi was a dog, you’d know his ears would’ve flicked with excitement at the sound of gossip, “and she…”
as you babbled on and on about some streamer’s current relationship status, you stowed away the lemons, but quickly took them out after remembering your boyfriend would need them soon. you turned with a twirl as you plopped them onto the counter near the sink, looking for the next item to store. in one of the bags, you spotted a small plastic container. your eyebrow quirked at the salacious joke item he actually bought, but you pocketed the little tube without a word.
kunikuzushi’s calm voice cut through your thoughts. 
“put those in the pantry, will you?”
you glanced at the man rinsing the tomatoes in the sink, his back remained turned away from you. the shoulders of his shirt were still slightly moist from the rain and the hair at the nape of his neck seemed to stick to his skin. knowing him, he was probably ready to toss the shirt off to cease the uncomfortable sensation.
you had caught the quick nod in the direction of the tiled floor. your eyes floated on down and–
“holy shit.”
your eyes widened at the stack, no, the army of green fruit on the tiled floor, “kuni, what? why…did you buy like, forty mangoes?” you squatted down near the and gawked at the back of his head. you quickly started counting the number of packages, but he cut you off.
he snorts at the sink as he rubs the red skin of a tomato under running water, “forty-two of them, idiot,” he corrects, dropping the red-rubied produce onto the drying rack. his slender back was still turned away from you as he grabs the lemons you placed on the counter. the busied man clearly had no issue with his purchase as he continued to scrub the produce as you stared from the floor. 
before you could jab back at him at the sheer absurdity of it all, he finally continues, “i’d say it’s a good idea. we stream for a total of six times per week; more, if we feel generous. i eat fruit daily. unfortunately, not all mangoes… cooperate,” he mutters that last part tersely, “so, statistically, that ruins my efficacy; i might eat more than one or two a day.”
as you stare at him, the sound of running water fills the silence. you rest one of your hands on your hip as you listen to him explain his rationale.
kunikuzushi murmurs slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “they are at various stages of ripeness if you’re concerned that we won’t finish them all,” he reasons quietly. he grabs a plush towel to dry his hands, but as he turns and slides his jewelry back onto his digits, he freezes upon seeing your amused gaze and teasing grin. your posture told him all he needed to know that an onslaught of teasing was coming and he sighed and crossed his arms. he pursed his lips, waiting.
you coo at him as you round the table, giddily placing your hands on his shoulders. the streamer glowers as heat rushes to his ears as he barks out, “what? is there an issue with my logic? i’m not wrong with my math.” 
you squeeze his shoulders gently as you laugh freely, drumming your fingers against the moist fabric. “your math checks out. i’m just… surprised you bought… well, forty-two of them,” you admit, your head craning to the small tower of them. the green gradient was evidence of kunikuzushi’s careful consideration; the bottom-most set was the greenest, with the top being closer to yellow. oh, he definitely thought long and hard about this at the market. 
oh, he was so cute for that…
“you liked them the other day,” he uttered plainly as his eyes wander to look at anything other than your teasing smile, “so, i’m just doing you a favor.” 
he notes that he was staring at his couch riddled with your plushies in the other room, but he was still able to see the hearts in your eyes as he spoke. he coughs and one of his hands darts to his mouth to cover the smile threatening to rip his face in half when he sees how touched you were over a simple act of just… buying you fruits. he could also see a slight warmth flooding your face, but unlike you, he had the strength to refrain from teasing someone for that.
he’s lying, by the way. he’s just too embarrassed.
…was it really that big of a deal though? he didn’t think so.
he just wanted you to be healthy with him.
you pat his cheek before kissing him on his crinkled forehead. he sputters, but you ignore his flustered huff and swat in your direction. you trot back to the tower of fruits, “you know, people usually just say ‘i love you’. you’re an odd one, kunikuzushi,” you coyly stick your tongue out at him before hoisting everything up. he hastily steps over and grabs the top three, muttering about how ‘you’re going to drop them on your feet—’
‘odd, but so very endearing,’ you think to yourself as you readjust your grip.
the young man rolls his eyes as the two of you meander to the pantry. as you open the pantry door, he debates on if he wanted to offer a potential reason for buying as much sweets as he did. he had thought about it before… kunikuzushi was a little stuck, if he had to be honest. logically, next time the two of you go shopping, he could just buy less to avoid your half-hearted teasing and just go to the store again the following week. but something painfully nostalgic tugged at the back of his mind when he hobbled through the front door earlier and watched you rush to him to relieve him of the heavy bags. he gnawed on his inner cheeks as he felt his cheeks bloom.
“auntie—” he clears his throat once again as a flush rushed up his neck, “—aunt makoto would buy me a lot of fruit growing up. and she’d cut them into shapes…” he trails off, impatiently waiting for you to make room on the floor for the abundance of produce. you hum, nodding as you recalled him bringing up his lovely late aunt in the past. a sweetheart who made her mark during his early life.
you place the first three sets on the floor; the only sound filling the apartment now was the quiet hum of the air conditioner, the ticking clock, along with the rustle and crinkle of the plastic as you set the packages down. he tsks at your crouched form, hating your lack of effortful response to such a vulnerable statement. “…if you didn’t want me to feed you, just say so—“
“—never said that!” you chirp from the floor.
as you turn to grab the next three, you surprise him by hopping up to peck him on the lips; he scowls before folding his arms with a huff. with a pleased laugh that rang prettily in his ears, you gripped the clear containers and squatted down once more to neatly set the fruits on the floor. your gentle approach was to prevent any unnecessary jostling and subsequent bruising to kunikuzushi’s little gifts. near the set of three, you note the small box of mandarins ready to be transferred to the fruit bowl.
from the corner of your eyes, you can see his socked feet take a tentative step closer. you assumed it was because he had noticed the orange sweets needing to be relocated, but as you right yourself up, he hesitantly wraps his arms around your stomach and presses his face against your warm back, releasing an embarrassed and nearly silent, shuddered exhale. deciding you teased him enough for today, you placed your hands on his and refrained from poking any more fun at his delicate ego. unbeknownst to you, you both closed yours eyes and as he relaxes, taking in your warmth and scent.
behind his eyelids and deep within his mind, he could almost perfectly replay his aunt happily bursting through his childhood home’s front door, a sparkle in her eye as she showed off all of the melons and cakes she had bought him. auntie makoto would have angry, scarlet lines from the heavy bags digging into her beautiful skin as she set the gifts down; her beautiful voice rang clear as she excitedly cooed at him to distract him from her discomfort. he remembered he’d rush over to bring one bag to the kitchen because that was all he could manage at the time.
his wonderful aunt would eagerly lift him into the kitchen and plop him onto the chair pressed against the counter so he could watch her prep his favorites. starry-eyed, he’d clap over every star and heart-shaped watermelon she fed him. she always fed him the sweetest pieces of melon and smudged frosting onto his nose as they laughed together in the big, cold kitchen.
it had been awhile since he’d come to enjoy such decadent and sugary treats, as those memories and flavors had only morphed into something more bittersweet over the years.
in your grasp, you could feel his hands easing as he releases a content sigh.
after a few more seconds of peaceful silence, he was phasing back to reality and shoving away the nostalgia for another day. he continued to nuzzle himself deeper against your back, retightening his hold around your midriff.
kunikuzushi softly murmurs against your frame, his voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt. his teensy smile was hidden behind you.
while you couldn’t quite pick up on his quiet words, context clues helped you piece together that the forty-two pieces of honey-yellow lumps in a box and his soft mumbling against the warmth of your back were just his admissions of ‘i love you’.
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