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#and if you do that’s lovely too and being comfortable with that changing as you grow is beautiful as well
sturnsdoll · 3 days
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𝖶𝖨𝖲𝖣𝖮𝖬 𝖳𝖤𝖤𝖳𝖧 -`♡´- -C.S
(HEADCANNONS!)
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pairing: chris x (gf) reader, some reader x bsf matt and nick <3
summary: how chris would support his girlfriend before, after, and through wisdom teeth removal, as well as being under the influence of anesthetics!
warnings: fluffy!headcannons, dentist, mention of teeth pulling, little blood, slight mention of needles, anesethetics, established relationships.
authors note: kind of a blurb more than hc's tbh? it was a little rushed! sorry!
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₊⊹⤑ you had been talking about how nervous you were for a couple weeks now..
₊⊹⤑ so it was no surprise when the whole car ride there, you were holding your boyfriends hand and avoiding the topic of what you knew was coming.
₊⊹⤑ chris had been reminding you everyday that besides the needle, the rest of it you wouldn't even remember. he ensured that him matt and nick would be there the entire time if you needed a hand or two.. or three to hold.
₊⊹⤑ with some encouragement (and chris lending you his grey zip up to wear for emotional and physical comfort) you did manage to enter the building just to get it done and over with.
₊⊹⤑ while the IV was intruding your skin, chris stayed next to you, asking about what flavour of ice cream you'd be getting after as a distraction from the needle.
₊⊹⤑ from there on, the process itself you had no memory of but chris stuck close by the entire time incase you needed anything or for some reason woke up.
₊⊹⤑ "hey sweetheart how'r ya feeling?" chris would ask while gently holding your hand when you come to your senses
₊⊹⤑ confused, your instinct was to sit up but chris would immedietly usher you to lay back down, letting you know that they're done working on your teeth.
₊⊹⤑ "why dtha fack is this bullshit still in my fucking arm then HUH?" your words wonky from the cotton in your mouth and the haze of anesthetic.
₊⊹⤑ "shh, were in public stop cursing like a sailor" "dude, nobody under like 100 says 'cursing like a sailor'" "yeah, what he thsaid!"
₊⊹⤑ chris would of course glare at you for agreeing with matt. but his thumb soothingly rubbing your hand tells you that he's obviously not too mad.
₊⊹⤑ you would leave later then you should have because everytime a password was given to you, you'd forget less than five seconds later..
₊⊹⤑ "it was ass right?" "no, it was GRASS sweetheart...."
₊⊹⤑ everything that came out of your mouth had the doctors and the triplets giggling.
₊⊹⤑ when it came time to take the IV out, chris thought that a 'got your nose' joke would be funny to distract you with. it was... definetly distracting at least???
₊⊹⤑ usually you were sweet to your boyfriend but something about anesthetic had you more than arguementative today.
₊⊹⤑ chris would try complimenting you "you look pretty even like this"
₊⊹⤑ "i KNOW i do. stop being corny you sthtoopid fuck" chris's jaw drops like he's offended but you don't care because nick's contagious laugh brings out your own laughter out as well.
₊⊹⤑ "i thought i was supposed to be the stupid one right now, not you"
₊⊹⤑ "maybe YOUU need to see the dentist about all those terrible jokes that come out of your mouth."
₊⊹⤑ you had no filter, just having fun rebelling against your usual niceness to your loved one.
₊⊹⤑ then finally the car ride came.
₊⊹⤑ now you leant on chris' shoulder to take a nap
₊⊹⤑ "thought i was stupid?" he questions, arm coming around to pull you in closer. "shhhh i'm sthleeping" the inpedament on your speech makes him giggle. "I SAID SHHHHHH" "jesus. my bad sleepyhead"
₊⊹⤑ the whole car ride he was making sure you didn't need your gauze changed, asking if you need water, offering you chapstick. you had to tell him to shut up at least 100 times before he'd relax, telling him you could put your own damn chapstick on. (you ended up asking him for help two minutes later...)
₊⊹⤑ the whole rest of the car ride was filled with you zipping up and down the zipper of your boyfriends sweater you had on, mixed with your favourite artist playing as you attempted to sing along
₊⊹⤑ the second you entered the triplets home, you rested on the couch with your legs over your boyfriends lap, singing a song that everyones pretty sure doesn't exist..
₊⊹⤑ "i love... YOUUUUUUU, i lovovovovovee YOUU, all three of YOUUuUuU-" "someone sedate her again." nick jokes while handing you an ice pack you'd previously asked for.
₊⊹⤑ "want me to hold it on your jaw for you bab- oh" before he can finish speaking you're gripping his wrist, leaning toward him "wanna know something?" you ask eagerly "hm?" "I LOVE YOU!" "i love you more"
₊⊹⤑ matt and nick didn't enjoy the next 30 minutes of the predictable arguement at all. ₊⊹⤑ once the delusion of the anesthetic wore off, you were just plain tired. nick and matt had both chosen to chill in their own rooms by now.
₊⊹⤑ the second you mentioned wanting to lay down, chris curled up behind you with a blanket over the two of you. he held you tight, muttering in your ear about how good you did today and how proud he is that you went.
₊⊹⤑ "sorry for calling you stupid" you apologize with a sweetly apologetic smile.
₊⊹⤑ "aw, it's okay. i know you didn't mean it-" "wellll sometimes.." "nevermind i don't forgive you."
₊⊹⤑ he'd make sure your favourite cartoon was on and that he held your ice pack on your sore jaw till you eventually drifted into sleep.
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tags ᥫ᭡: @pettydollie @mattsrod @sturncakez @sturniololovesss @sturniolosstar @sstvrnioloo @watercolorskyy @sturniol0s @6ix9inewiturmom @sonicsmacks @orangela
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roosterforme · 17 hours
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot
Length: 4200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him. 
Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.
Bradley,
We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.
Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice. 
If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail. 
I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.
One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you? 
Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.
You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.
"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.
Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.
"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.
Hey, Gorgeous,
Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please). 
I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities. 
You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.
If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.
Your Truly,
Bradley
Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.
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Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him. 
"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.
He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.
"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.
Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.
Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.
But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response. 
Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.
When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.
"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.
Hi,
I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.
Vanessa
It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa. 
"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?
What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.
Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?
He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.
"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.
No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.
He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa. 
He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.
Bradley,
Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.
I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?
Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.
On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.
Yours Truly,
Your favorite pen pal 
Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.
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After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.
Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.
It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning. 
"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.
You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"
Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"
Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."
"What?" gasped Jayden. 
"No way," complained Nia. 
After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.
Hey, Gorgeous,
That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.
I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?
Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?
I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.
Yours Truly,
Bradley Bradshaw
"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.
-----------------------
Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"
"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"
Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.
The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."
As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."
If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.
When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good. 
As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.
His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.
Bradley,
You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.
I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.
Your favorite pen pal
He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.
Hey, Gorgeous,
You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...
It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?
Yours Truly,
Bradley
And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.
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A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls
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j4ygyu · 2 days
Note
🫐 - jake! maybe about reader having some hardships during her pregnancy but baby daddy jake would be ready to do anything for her comfort !!
rejecting his kisses | sjy
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pairing: husband!jake x wife!reader
genre: fluff bro what else i write 😭😭
synopsis: reader is growing sensitive day by day to touches and snaps at jake, jake being a mature husband handles the situation well.
everything felt so much more overwhelming, jake kept a family dinner and everyone was over, his members and his family. 
“how are my babies doing?” jake said as he nuzzled his nose in your neck as you moved back in annoyance. 
oh he noticed it but shrugged it off, maybe it was just a silly reaction right?
the sound of everyone talking at the same time in their own conversation rings around in your ears making it hard for you to keep up with everything jake had his hands on you the whole day, hugging you from behind, talking to his friends and family with a hand on your bump, rubbing your nose agaisnt his, kissing your cheeks, lips and forehead. yeah sounds cute but not when you’re feeling everything a little too much. 
what is going on. 
it was so bad that you had to shut your room door so loud and settle on the bed, 
there you were, pregnant and finally on your thrid trimester with your annoying husband being extra touchy anywhere he could find you at.
rubbing your temples you sat on the bed, grabbed the water from the beside table and starting chugging it down. 
meanwhile, jake who already spotted your absensce in the living room came in “bub?” you heard his voice and your brain gave a reaction not again. 
he walks in as you don’t even dare to look at him in the eye, your eyes closed as you take deep breath. 
“did i do something” he leans over to your face while staring deep “no..” u say as he hums in question he sits beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder “are you oka-“ you cut him off,
“no- just no- please okay? please just get your hands off of me please jake. stay away from me i am not feeling all your touches just leave me the fuck alone.” you say raising your voice. 
the next thing you see is tears in jake’s eyes as he looks away from you trying to hold them in. 
“i am sorry.” 
a moment of complete silence goes by as you rest your head on the headboard.
you notice him avoiding your looks and turning to the other side, hesitant to ask you if you need anything again.
“did i do something wrong?” he asks out of curiosity “i won’t touch you if—“
“no i dont know.. i am sorry i dont feel like getting touched i dont know.. i don’t know why i am being like this i don’t know” as you’re saying he turns around and comes closer to you.
attentively listening as he brings a hand to tug your hair strand back.
“hey no no it’s fine, its completely fine yeah, this is super normal for pregnant women to feel..” he says as tears start spilling from your eyes because of how understanding he is. 
jake has always put your perspective before his, always understanding everything you did, always finding a reason for your actions and letting you express yourself, god you think what did you do to deserve him. 
“b-but jake” you say as he holds your face in his hands and squishes your cheeks trying to calm you down.
“at this stage you’ve grown more sensitive. to touches to words to noises to everything” he says bringing his hands back to himself, “isn’t it?” 
you nod in agreement as he adds “so don’t ever blame yourself about all this okay? i love you just how it is. nothing will ever change that” 
you look at him and take his hand and place it on your belly, he makes sure to keep it exactly where you kept and not rub it because of muscle memory 
he pauses and lets out a little laugh as he feels the baby kicking where his arm is placed “just try not to be as aggressive as you were okay?” you nod once again as he kisses your cheeks wiping your tears off his lips. 
“baby doesn’t like hearing mum and dad argue does it?” he says as he feels another kick to his palm as you both laugh out of surprise. 
it makes you giggle, mood swings are crazy.
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leaderwonim · 3 days
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unconditional love. ✧ park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: bittersweet fluff, coming of age angst
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you liked park sunghoon, you truly did. he was kind, intelligent, and had that soft introverted persona on the outside.
when you got to know him, he became the most funny and loudest person to ever exist, which had your heart doing backflips.
it wasn’t him that was the issue. it was you. you always had commitment issues, never being able to settle down because of your past pulling you behind. i mean—how could anyone ever like you? you felt as thought you were too loud, too annoying, too irritable, just too much.
despite your brain constantly bringing you down, park sunghoon loved you. he loved every single piece of you, the way you’d blow your perfect hair out of your face as you concentrated on the textbook in front of you, the way your eyebrows would furrow when you didn’t quite catch a question or answer, the way you’d prop your head onto your knees as a way to comfort yourself.
god, park sunghoon swore you were the one. he didn’t care that his friends warned him about your earned title of being a ghoster when it came to relationships, he didn’t care that it felt like he was constantly putting in more effort than you.
as long as he’s got you, he doesn’t care. so how did the two of you end up in this situation?
“i don’t get it,” sunghoon frowns, “what did i do wrong?”
“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say exasperatedly, “in fact, you were perfect sunghoon. you were everything i wanted and more—it’s just me.”
park sunghoon hated the classic it’s me not you excuse when it came to situations like these. but because it’s you, he lets it slide, even though he already feels the tears coming.
“i don’t want to hurt you any longer, hoonie. you have to understand i’m ending this because i care about you too much to put you through hell.”
sunghoon solemnly nods, knowing whatever he’ll say won’t change anything, that it’s already too late and you’ve already made up your mind.
it’s cruel, he thinks. life. how it could be so depressing and meekly all at once.
it wasn’t until a year later that sunghoon and you crossed paths again. you two were now sophomores in college, and had even attended the same university.
you had gotten a boyfriend, finally deciding to settle down after maturing and realizing how much of a piece of shit you were to all the boys at your high school.
his name was heeseung and he had treated you like a princess, reminding you of how sunghoon used to treat you back in senior year.
now here you were, sitting on one of the university steps with your head hung low. your parents had given you the call about them divorcing, right in the middle of your sophomore year. you were miles away, and was heartbroken knowing your family was splitting in two without you being there physically to support them.
“hey, you okay?”
you knew that voice better than anyone.
“hoon?” you sniffle. “i’m sorry—why am i even calling you that.”
“it’s okay.” he reassures you, patting your back as he takes a seat. “what’s wrong?”
“parents are getting divorce,” you scoff. “guess thats karma for all the things i put you through.”
“don’t say that.” sunghoon gently wipes away your tears, frowning when he sees more appear.
“you shouldn’t even be comforting me, i treated you like shit sunghoon, i got a new boyfriend right after i said i couldn’t settle down with you.”
“who cares?” sunghoon says, and for the first time, you don’t see the romantic love he used to have in his eyes for you. “we’re young! of course you’re going to find other people.”
you’re in awe at the maturity sunghoon is displaying. you knew it took a lot of courage for him to do so.
“why are you being so nice, sunghoon?”
“the world is already cruel, yn.” sunghoon sighs. “so therefore, i won’t be.”
and although his words won’t stop the divorce of your parents or the sadness filling your chest, it makes you feel a tad bit lighter, knowing that you had someone like park sunghoon in your life.
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wosoxwriterrr · 2 days
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Stina Blackstenius x Swedish Arsenal reader
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request- could u do smth with stina blackstenius where reader is very flirty with stina, making flirty comments and being touchy with her but stina is absolutely clueless and doesnt catch on at all. then reader has enough and just kisses stina ☺️
a/n- i’m aware my fics are pretty short atm but bare with me :) requests are open!!
518 words ———
You always found a way to be close to Stina, you really liked her so you wanted to be around her. You always laughed at her jokes a bit too loud making those around you give you some glares but you didn’t care.
Walking into colney you spot Stina getting out of her car, you run over to her turining into a koala as you wrap your limbs around her. “Hej på dig med y/n” (Hello to you too) She giggles at your current position. “Jag saknade dig” (I missed you) you whispered into her ear, still clinging to her.
Before training, laura caught you making heart eyes at Stina and came over to talk to you. “what’s going on between you two?” she said quietly so no one else could hear. “i wish i knew Laura, i’ve tried so many times to tell her without actually telling her but she’s just so oblivious” Laura places a comforting hand on your back “maybe just use your words” she gets no response, just a knowing sigh.
During training, you being a defender and Stina being a striker, both of you were working together on some drills. As you start defending the ball away from her, Stina accidentally clips your heal sending you straight to the grass holding your ankle. “OMG y/n I am so sorry” she says as she rushes to your side. “Stina It’s okay don’t worry about it, I am fine kärlek” (love). You get back on your feet and walk back into the building with the medics.
Sitting in your cubby with ice on your ankle, the team start to filter in. Stina makes a beeline to you. “How’s the ankle?” said with a sympathetic tone. “Just a little niggle, nothing big luckily” said with a sheepish smile. “I was so scared, wouldn’t want to hurt my best friend” the minute the words ‘best friend’ came out of her mouth, your heart sunk. “Are you okay y/n” Stina asks with concern. You stay quiet for a moment. “Ka jag kyssa dig?” (Can I kiss you?) Stina looks at you for a moment then lightly nods her head. Soon your lips were connecting with Stina’s and your heart felt like it was about to explode. You had waited for this moment for years! You pull away “Förlåt att jag inte borde ha gjort att du inte ens gillar mig” (Sorry I shouldn’t have done that you don’t even like me) “I never said I didn’t like you y/n, I just didn’t know you liked me” as she looks at the wall behind you. “I thought I was making it really obvious, I think you’re just oblivious Stina” you say with a little chuckle. “Y/n is right, you’re oblivious” Frida chimes in after over hearing the conversation.
Everyone starts to leave the changing room, leaving you and Stina. “Well em I will call you later maybe only if you want” you say kind of nervously. “Jag skulle älska det” (I would love that) as she quickly pulls you in for a quick peck leaving you both blushing messes.
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aezuria · 3 days
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*ੈ✎ two lovers entwined, pass me by
"and heaven knows i'm miserable now" —the smiths
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content: leo valdez x roman! reader
╰┈▸ back cover: what if leo gets a little too tired of being the seventh wheel, wait- ninth wheel? (and meets a girl who is a d1 hater)
╰┈▸ warnings: leo and yn dont hate hate couples its a joke okay (unless its not a joke anymore pls give them love-) cursing, maybe ooc reyna? NOT canon compliant, a bit of angst but overall its silly
librarian's annotations: this is now my fav work if u guys dont like it then dont tell me pls 😣
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leo was tired. sick and tired of everyone's public displays of affection! can they at least have the decency to romance each other in the privacy of their own rooms!? he did not build ten of them for no reason! there was absolutely no way they needed to suck face at the dining table. like, right in front of his food!?
okay, he was being a bit dramatic. the most everyone was willing to do in public was hold hands. and maybe share a kiss. but that was a kiss too much! and wasn't reyna supposed to off doing (cool) praetor shit!? ever since her and jason made up, leo has not been able to catch a break! can they stop eyefucking each other already!? (they are simply staring into one another's eyes)
"guys." leo swept his gaze over the dining table. he was seated at the end, giving him an unwarranted view of everyone paired up. apparently, love is also deaf, since no one turned their head to him.
"guys!" leo raised his voice. would he be heard over the sound of their unspoken conversations? heads finally spun to look at him, as if they just remembered he was there.
"can you guys like, eat? or do this-" he gestured widely. "elsewhere? and by elsewhere i mean not in front of me."
they all managed to give him the exact same look that was a mix of embarrassment at being called out, and something that said "poor leo, he's so single!" oh come on! jason made it even worse by putting a—what was supposed to be—comforting hand on his arm. "it's okay, leo. i'm sure you'll find someone one day."
this was not funny at all. and leo would know; he's the funniest guy ever! he snatched his arm away with an utterly aghast expression. "ew! get your pity off of me!" he shuddered, playing up the theatrics and wiped his forearm over jason, giving him his couple-cooties back.
the blond reeled back, laughing at his best friend's antics. "what was that for!?"
"don't act like you don't know!" he sneered accusingly.
nights were always the worst for leo. they were quiet, and not the calm, peaceful quiet when he would stay out and watch the sun set, the time before his happiness came to an end. it was an empty quiet, devoid of the laughter he caused, his thoughts become louder to fill up the silence.
(it was night when his mother died, when he had burned down the warehouse. when he had killed her. it was night when he awoke to the front door slamming, the sounds of drunken yells and glass splintering were backing instruments in an interlude of impending misery as he waits for the sun to shine once again. it was night when he ran away, with nothing more than his heavy heart and some left over change.)
leo's thoughts ran rampant with the feelings he kept in a glass box. always there, always seen, very fragile yet rarely opened. sometimes he would shake it a little too hard, and it would come crashing down like a bottle of alcohol, spilling insecurities instead of wine.
tonight was one of those times.
he doesn't know what brought it on. well, he lied; it was the sight of everyone at dinner, looking happy and complete without him. but he was used to it. it shouldn't have bothered him this much. but the more he let it stew, the more it hurt. leo loved his friends, sure, but he couldn't help but have a little bit of resentment at how easy it was for them to make up, make out. hell, even piper got a girlfriend, a mortal one at that! between traveling and fighting monsters, he didn't even know that was possible. what about him was so unlovable?
as he tossed and turned to shake off the voices in his head, he knew that this would be another sleepless night.
today was going to be a good day; leo could feel it in his gut. the skies were clear, there were no monsters coming to wake them up, and the engine was running smoothly. he had time to work on his little projects all day today! he hummed a tune as he walked to the engine room, or his work room for today, and spun a wrench in his hand. maybe he had a little skip to his saunter, a pep in his step. something about today was just so-
his gut lied to him. (maybe he was hungry?) the wrench clattered to the ground as he came to an abrupt stop. "oh. my. gods." leo paused between every word to further emphasize his disdain.
the sight was scandalous, completely and irrevocably scandalous. like, i-need-to-wash-my-brain-out scandalous. and leo was so not being dramatic this time.
percy and annabeth flinched away from each other in a half-asleep fumble, trying to act as if they had not just been caressing each other's bodies mere moments ago. (okay, maybe he was being dramatic again) this wasn't even a romantic place to do that! and leo would know, he's such a romantic guy. what was the purpose of his hard work of making bedrooms if they were just going to sneak off and desecrate his beloved engine room!?
"frank catching you two once wasn't enough?" leo huffed and bent down to pick up his dropped tool. "now i have to see the two of you fraternizing in my domain!?"
"that's not even the proper word-" annabeth had tried to hold back, but the urge to correct him was too much.
"i don't care! shoo!"
leo was so done. his perfect day had been ruined first thing in the morning! now it was late, he was tired, and he was finally heading back to his room to get some much needed rest after holing himself up all day working on random knick-knacks. a soft noise caught his attention. it was dim, the lights low since him and annabeth wanted to save electricity. he felt the familiar dread in his stomach. there was absolutely no way this could be happening.
"we shouldn't do this here..." wait, was that reyna?
"i know.. but i'm gonna miss you when you leave." no. no. NO. the direction the two very very familiar voices were coming from was right in front of the hallway to his bedroom. "please?"
leo was torn. he didn't want to walk in on them, but he couldn't spend another night in the engine room! he wanted his comfy bed right now!
he slapped a hand over his eyes and stepped heavily on the wooden floorboards, giving them a much needed warning. he heard the sound of fabric and shuffling, a satisfied smirk gracing his face.
"are you guys decent?" leo asked, still squeezing his eyes shut under his hand.
jason huffed, no doubt red in the face. "it's not like we weren't in the first place."
leo dared to open his eyes, finding that not only was his face red, but there were bruises starting to dapple his neck. ew. he did not want to think about how that came to be. "uh huh. well go and canoodle somewhere not in front of my room, please and thank you."
"canoodle?"
"reyna i told you, i don't wanna go!" you grumbled akin to a toddler, despite your status as the centurion of the first cohort. you took off your armor, dropping it to the ground haphazardly. "i don't need to see you and mister perfect canoodling in front of me!"
the praetor snorted and shook her head. "'canoodling?' you're the second person i've heard use that word this week." she paused, a thoughtful expression passing over her face. "you guys would get along well, i think. anyways, i'm not asking as a friend, i'm ordering you as praetor."
oh that was so unbelievably low! "what!? reynaa!" you stretched out the end of her name in an embarrassingly childish whine. good thing it was just the two of you here, otherwise no one would let you live it down. "i thought they were supposed to be going soon anyway!?"
"you heard me. and no, they're staying for a couple more nights. something about the engine being broken again?" she shrugged, an amused glimmer breaking through her usually serious front. "besides, we have a lot to discuss about the whole gaea thing, and who better to bring than you? you're my right hand woman."
you tried to hide a smile at her words, but sweet-talk always won you over. "ugh, fine. i guess i'll go."
something was up. you knew that from the moment she asked you to "wear something other than purple for once." who even owned anything but purple!? heck, you didn't even know reyna had different clothes outside of uniform! was that even allowed? you'd only ever seen her wear the same shirt as you, and a toga if the event accounted for it.
you sifted through your wardrobe, digging through masses of violet and coming up blank. oh well, guess its uniform time again. not that you minded all that much.
"you are changing." reyna shook her head, giving you a disappointed look only a mother could offer. this wasn't even a big deal! what was so wrong with your shirt? you rather liked purple!
"but why!? what better way to represent rome than this?" you gestured to your clothing. "aren't we talking business? also this is like the only shirt i have."
"because-"
"you just wanna look all pretty for your boyfriend." you cut her off, faking a gag. "doesn't mean i have to look pretty."
her shoulders tensed and you drew back, already anticipating her near-fatal blow.
"reyna? you know i was just kidding- OW!"
"-wait this is so my color actually." you checked yourself in her mirror. who knew reyna had fashion sense? although not much was required for a simple shirt and jeans.
she nodded and got to her feet. "suits you well. consider it my apology."
"huh? apology for what? for hitting me? aww you're so-"
"no. for what's about to happen to you." a solemn expression took over her face. she was well aware of your exaggerated hatred for couples. maybe you were just a bitter single, but she wasn't about to tell you that. she hoped you would soon be taken (not literally) and stop harassing her for her romantic escapades.
that was ominous. should you be scared for your life? "what the hell does that even mean?"
oh. now you knew exactly what it meant. as the two of you boarded the argo ii, she was immediately swept into a bone-crushing hug by jason, as if he couldn't bear to let her go ever again. you almost threw up at the sight. how could your beloved best friend be reduced to a lovesick schoolgirl at the touch of a man!? a man that had forgotten her! (and remembered, and apologized, and confessed his love- okay, you were starting to see her side quite clearly)
you turned your head away entirely, not wanting to see all that. but everywhere you looked, a new couple seemed to pop up. it was like your worst nightmare come to life. percy and annabeth? piper and some girl? frank and hazel? holding hands? since when were they a thing!? sweet hazel and shy frank? they were—admittedly—adorable, but still!
your only respite was leo looking just as exasperated as you. he must have it way worse; he had to live here with all of them. you shuddered. you were glad you weren't in his place right now.
you stood awkwardly to the side as they reunited. do they do this all the time? and everyone's just cool with it? maybe they can relate, with their taken-ness and all. ugh.
leo peeked at you curiously from the corner of his eye. your expression was as clear as day, face scrunched up in disdain as he traced your gaze to the practically infinite amount of couples onboard. he nodded internally, knowing exactly how you were feeling. but hey, he couldn't just let a pretty girl like you stay unhappy on his ship, not if he could help it!
"hey there," leo said smoothly, or as smooth as he could be after he had almost tripped on the crack between the floorboards. "i'm leo."
finally! someone had the decency to entertain you. "i know you! you're the guy that made octavian throw a hissy fit for firing at new rome!" shit, was that a weird thing to say for a first time interaction? too late now.
the brunette cringed at the mention of his possession. "uh, that's not what most people know me by, but yeah..?"
"oh? and what do most people know you by?" consider yourself intrigued.
leo perked up at your question, having been given an amazing opportunity to charm you. "well obviously it's my rugged good looks, and ingenious inventions, and-"
"we're starting dinner now!" jason called out from the dining table, before recieving an elbow to the gut from reyna and a harsh whisper from piper.
you were lost in your thoughts, zoning out as everyone spoke around you. leo's actually kinda... a tiny part of you popped the idea into your head. he was kinda, indeed. gods, i hate couples. a much larger portion of your mind seemed to yell. do you, or do you just hate being single? you asked yourself. huh. well it's probably-
a cough to your left caught your attention. it was leo. when his brown eyes met yours, you couldn't see a trace of that same boy who was described a traitor and a freak for firing at new rome. maybe something really did possess him.
"wanna know how i built this ship?" he asked excitedly. it was clear that the argo ii was his pride and joy.
"yeah!" you grinned, his cheerfulness rubbing off on you. who cares if he fired on new rome anymore? that was so last tuesday.
"so first, i had this cool metal dragon..."
unbeknownst to you, annabeth whispered across the table to reyna. "i think it's working?"
so, the dinner wasn't anything about business. you did learn a ton from leo though! that was business enough wasn't it? still, you couldn't help the pang of guilt that came with not getting anything work-related done. it was practically in your genes as a roman.
"y/n! you should stay the night!" hazel encouraged from the sofa across you. she was met with choruses of yeahs! and you shoulds! by the other girls, including reyna.
"oh!" you laughed awkwardly, trying to think of a way to politely turn them down. as much as you would love to stay and get to know them, you had a job to do. even if that job was getting all the legionnaires in your cohort to bed by curfew. (like seriously, the amount of times you've had to reel in couples you caught sneaking out was crazy. maybe that's where your hatred came from.) "i'd love to, but i have... centurion duties and all that."
"but reyna has praetor duties and she's staying," annabeth argued. her gray eyes shone with an intensity you only saw on the battlefield. what was going on?
that was new information to you. "you're staying?" you questioned your friend, who looked away with a hint of embarrassment.
"jason's leaving soon," she coughed. after being apart for so long, you could hardly blame her for wanting a little more time with him. "but that's besides the point. you should stay."
you crossed your arms, trying to come up with another excuse. "uh, i don't have clothes to change into?" it was a weak attempt, but you hoped it would work.
"i can lend you some," hazel piped up from the side, obviously eager to make you stay.
aw. she was always so nice. but you had a feeling there was an underlying motive you just couldn't figure out.
you tried again. "i don't think there's a spare room for me to sleep in."
"there's an empty one by leo," piper pointed out.
well, that was it. they refuted all your claims and left you no choice but to stay. you heaved a sigh and relented. "fine."
you weren't sure how it happened, but you ended up with leo again. so much for girls night. but you couldn't complain, leo was good company. he never let the silence stew between you guys for too long, always switching between one topic to the next, until somehow, you were both talking shit about your pathetic love lives and the insufferable ones of those around you.
"you wouldn't believe how many times i've caught these people! i swear, they can never keep it in their pants for more than two seconds! it's like, trauma at this point!" you rolled your eyes, absolutely abhorring the new legionnaires in your cohort.
leo laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. he looked over his shoulder, before leaning in as if telling you a secret. "like two days ago, i caught jason and reyna making out! he had hickies all over his neck!"
you gasped at the scandalous behavior of the two most serious people you knew. "what!? no way..."
the curly-haired boy nodded vehemently. "yes way! it was so gross."
eventually, it was time for the both of you to say your goodnights. leo led you to your room, giving you a cheeky wink before he retreated into his own. you shut the door, and threw yourself into bed.
maybe it was the unfamiliar environment, maybe it was the fact that you were way up in the air, or maybe it was leo running circles around your mind. whatever the reason was, you couldn't sleep. or maybe you chose not to, just to have an excuse to see the stars. the time when they were out was the only time you'd allow yourself a break.
you crept out of the room, careful not to make noise as you made your way out onto the deck. the air was crisp, a gentle bite against your skin. it seemed that the god of the sky was on your side tonight, for the clouds were nowhere to be seen, only the full moon of artemis and the familiar stars shone. you made yourself comfy on the floor, leaning back against the railing as you took a deep breath.
it would be another night of no sleep for leo, that much he could tell. he groaned into his pillow. he couldn't tell if it was the new crush already forming on you, or his angst from a few days before. regardless, his nervous energy made him get up and pace the room, fidgeting with a screw he found on the floor. with footsteps light, he traveled the small area, before something told him to get some fresh air. he obliged. it was better than being in his stuffy room.
as he went up the stairs to the upper level, he caught sight of a figure in the distance. leo's curiosity spiked. he walked closer, the image of you coming into view. your eyes locked on his, a soft smile gracing your face at seeing him. "hey."
"hey." leo dipped his head in greeting, and sat down beside you. "mind if i sit here?"
you shook your head and returned your gaze to the starry night sky, a comfortable silence settling between you two, with only the tapping of leo's fingers against the floor filling the air. it was different, being alone with him. he seemed different. he was quieter, more mellow.
"i hate nights." leo blurted out, breaking the peace you two had shared.
"really?" you asked softly. he braced himself with the condescending remark that was sure to come after, but it never came. instead he received a genuine interest from you. "why's that?"
the boy felt his heart beat a little faster. was he really going to tell you, a girl he barely knew, his whole life story? perhaps it was the late hour that made him want to spill everything out. or the feeling that stirred whenever he looked at you, like magnets attracting. and so he did.
and you listened without any interruption, never followed up with that remark he was waiting for, never gave him the pity he hated. instead, you followed up with your own story.
"i love nights. for me, it's the only time i really feel free. when everyone else is asleep, and it's just you and the stars. away from all the rules." you looked up. they seemed so close from here, way up in the floating ship. they twinkled like glitter, flashing heys and hellos and nice to see you agains. it was beautiful.
leo admired you the way you did the stars. they reflected off your eyes and made your irises shine, the same way fire casted a diffused glow on everything around it. maybe nights weren't so bad after all, if every one of them would be spent with you.
and when you leaned against him to rest your head on his shoulder, whispering secrets into his ear? oh, caligula would have blushed. (leo knows he sure did)
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"operation get leo a girlfriend, complete!"
"i thought we were calling it operation get y/n a boyfriend?"
"whatever. operation leoy/n is a success!"
"...you know we can hear you guys, right?"
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Text
A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)
AN: excited to be putting out a smutty fic since i haven't in a while. i hope you enjoy part 4. feel free to help put inspo into this series by sending me things you'd like to see happen in this story. remember to reblog and leave your feedback. enjoy!!!
This story contains: fluff, smut, handjob and male receiving oral, talks of using vibrator
{ housemate!harry - softrry - friend!harry - au harry - harry's occupation is a teacher }
word count- 2,373
Your friendship is progressing quicker than anticipated and when Harry wakes up with morning wood, you decide to help his situation out.
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It's been three days since the mutual confessions of your feelings and to be completely honest, there has been little change as far as how the two of you interact. Apart from the absence of casual encounters, daily routines within the house remain unchanged from the time when you were merely housemates and just friends. But, you have noticed some subtle differences.
On Saturday night, you followed your usual routine. As the clock struck seven, you opted for Chinese take-out and settled on the couch to watch a movie. Eventually fatigue overcame you and you made the choice to call it a night. Although you had shared a bed earlier in the day during the morning nap, you believed that spending an entire night together would be rushing things, so you decided to go your separate ways.
However, following an hour of restlessness, Harry reached a point where he could no longer bear it. He rose from his bed and made his way across the hallway to your room. Being polite, he softly tapped on the door and upon hearing the invitation, "Come in," he cautiously entered. The room was dimly lit, but the moonlight filtering through the window provided just enough illumination for him to see your confused silhouette.
Curiously, you questioned, "Har... what are you doing?" while observing Harry confidently approaching your unoccupied side of the bed, dressed in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Without seeking consent, he smoothly pulled back the duvet and comfortably nestled himself beside you.
"Couldn't sleep." Harry answered before continuing, "Ever since this mornin' where we took that nap together and cuddled, I realized just how much I love sharing a bed and cuddlin' with someone. Hope this was alright."
Looking over at him as he got settled under the blankets, you replied, "Yeah, it's fine. Just thought you wanted to take this whole thing slow s'all."
"Y/n, when I said we should take our relationship slow, I meant sex. Sharing a bed and cuddlin' doesn't have to equal sex. It's purely platonic." At Harry's words, you had mixed emotions. Yes you agreed in wanting to take your progressive friendship at a slow pace but on the other hand, you also want to jump his bones every time you look into his grassy green eyes.
Since Harry was the one to take the brave step in coming into your bedroom, you made the brave step in sliding over until your body was right next to his. Quietly, you asked, "Big spoon or little spoon?"
Shyly giggling, Harry answered, "Little spoon."
"Okay, turn on your side for me." He did as told and you tightly wrapped your body around his back and hugged him to your chest. Just like Harry, you're a big cuddler too. Hence why most of the time you allowed your one-night stands to sleep over. Just to have a cuddle partner throughout the night.
The restlessness Harry had at the start of the night was now gone as you spooned him and sleep followed shortly after.
---------------------------
Every night since Saturday night you've shared a bed together. Either you sleep in Harry's bed or he sleeps in yours. It's become routine at this point and you both find comfort in sleeping together. Nothing more has happened in your developing relationship. Besides the accidently touch of your clothed boobs or the time your knee accidently grazed Harry's covered cock sometime throughout the night.
On the following Sunday morning though, a shift occurs. As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in Harry's bed, with his body curled around yours. The gentle exhalations of his warm breath brush against your neck, while his chest presses against your back. However, amidst this intimate embrace, you also become aware of another sensation. Something is prodding against your ass. You aren't oblivious to its nature, yet you find yourself uncertain about how to go about this situation.
It's a dilemma whether to ignore Harry's morning boner or to assist his problem in order to potentially advance your relationship. You don't want to make him feel uncomfortable, but also ponder if his desire to take things slow is actually for your benefit. Perhaps Harry is being cautious for your sake, and he might be ready to take your friendship to the next level.
Allowing desire to take over your judgement, you slowly back your bum up against his hardened cock and subtly move your hips, hoping the feeling gives him some sort of relief. Approximately thirty seconds go by before you hear a deep grunt coming from behind you. Then suddenly you feel Harry's body jump back until you're no longer touching one another.
You decide to turn around so you're facing his direction and once you get a good look at him, you see his large hand covering his face in what you presume is embarrassment. "Um, sorry 'bout that." Harry mummers aloud. He has no control over getting an erection in his sleep and the fact it happened while spooning you, it's so embarrassing for you to witness.
"Hey," you coo softly, scooting closer to his body, "you don't need to be embarrassed. It happens and it's natural. You know, I don't mind helping you out if you want."
Harry finally takes his hand away from his face and turns his head to look at you. "Y/n, what about the takin' it slow thing?"
"Harry, you also shared the importance of things moving naturally and I'd say they are. If things naturally progress fast then we should allow it instead of ignoring it. I don't mind helping your problem out. Know you must be aching." Once you're finished speaking, you place your hand on his bare belly and teasingly drag your fingers lower and lower. "Only if you're comfortable with that idea."
His longing for your touch surpasses everything else and he nods, uttering, "Um, yeah. If you want, you can help." Now assured of his agreement, you gradually move your fingers downwards until they reach the edge of his boxers. Before proceeding further, you steal a quick glance at Harry's face, searching for any hesitation, but there are none. With certainty, you slip your fingers beneath the elastic band encircling his narrow hips.
Your fingers pass over the patch of trimmed hairs before finally bumping into the hardness you felt against your ass a couple minutes prior. Carefully and without seeing, you take ahold of his morning wood and began to tug gently at his foreskin. This isn't your first rodeo. You know what your doing. You just hope Harry's enjoying what you're doing. And by the looks of it, he is.
Harry's leaning against his pillow, head thrown back, and a quiet gasp escapes his throat. The feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock exceeds all the fantasies he had while pleasuring himself and imagining your touch.
As you skillfully stroke him with your dominant hand, an overwhelming surge of arousal consumes you, causing your clitoris to pulsate with need. Despite the almost unbearable sensation, you set aside your own desires, dedicating yourself entirely to Harry's pleasure.
The room begins to get hot and stuffy so Harry reaches down to toss the covers off his lap. This gives you a better view of your hand down his briefs. After a few minutes of stroking his dick in your hand, you start feeling some resistant and realize the dryness may be uncomfortable for Harry. You could retreat your hand and lick your palm before going back to the handjob. Or, you could do something even better.
In one swift motion, you pull your hand out of Harry's underwear and crawl between his spread thighs. Now on your knees in front of his lying figure, you lean over his lap and tug the fabric down until it's cradled under his enlarged balls. "What are you......" he goes to ask but you cut him off.
"Shhh." You crouch down and glide your tongue over a thick vein along his shaft. He's larger than you imagined. You had an inkling of his size from how thick and heavy he felt in your hands, but now, face to face with it, he's huge. And it's not just huge, it's also aesthetically pleasing. The prettiest penis you've ever laid eyes on, and you wouldn't normally consider penises to be remarkably beautiful. It's no wonder why so many men and women enjoyed their nights with him.
A deep groan escapes Harry's lips as he's consumed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure, leaving him feeling dizzy. He never imagined you would go all out with a blowjob this morning. While a handjob is pleasurable, a blowjob is an even more exhilarating experience. You expertly guide his pulsating head to your lips and playfully flick your tongue over his sensitive slit. This action causes Harry to instinctively pull away, unable to bear the intense sensitivity.
In order to maintain his stability, you position your hands on both sides of his hips and decide you've teased long him enough. Gradually, you lower your head onto his large cock. However, as you reach approximately halfway down his length, he reaches the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Momentarily, you withdraw and apologize. "Sorry, it has been a while since I've gave a blowjob."
Harry lifts his head from the pillow and gently cups the sides of your face. "Don't worry about it. Just take it easy. You don't have to go all the way down and potentially make yourself sick. Just take what you can and it will still feel good f'me." He speaks from experience, having gave blowjobs before and knowing the struggle of trying to push beyond your limits. It only results in a sore throat and a stomach ache from gagging too much.
With a nod, you lean forward and proceed to take Harry into your mouth once again. Except this time you halt just before his tip reaches the back of your throat. Shifting one of your hands from his hip to the base of his penis, you skillfully maneuver your mouth up and down, while simultaneously twisting and tugging his shaft with your hand.
Harry thinks he's in heaven. He must be. Because nothing has ever felt this good before. None of his previous one-night stands has ever gave him this good of a blowjob. Not even the ones who could skillfully deepthroat him. Nor has any of his few actual relationships gave such a good blowjob. It must be the connection and feelings he has for you that's making this experience so amazing. It means more coming from you.
You suck and tug repeatedly until Harry is close to reaching orgasm in your mouth. Uncertain if you want him to come in your mouth, he alerts you, "Y/n... M' gonna come." Rather than withdrawing as he anticipates, you descend a bit further. This time, you successfully manage to control your gag reflex and intensify your sucking until you feel Harry releasing his warm cum in your mouth.
Harry tightly clutches his sheets, his hips involuntarily thrust upwards as he reaches his climax. You softly gag once but quickly regain your composure. He tastes better then some of the guys you've tasted before. It's a bit salty but doesn't have that pungent taste some men tend to have. Must be Harry's healthy diet.
Gradually, his limbs grow weak, and as his orgasm subsides, his body begins relaxing on the bed. You remove his wet and slippery cock from your mouth, observing Harry lying there, breathing heavily with his eyes firmly closed. Reeling what just happened.
With a croaky voice, you shyly question, "Was that good?"
"Was that good? Was it GOOD??" Harry repeats dramatically, "Oh my God, Y/n, best fuckin' blowjob I've ever had."
You playfully swat at his thighs. "Be serious, Harry."
Sitting up and tucking his limp penis back into his briefs, Harry continues his praises. "M' bein' very serious, Y/n. No one has ever made me come that hard. Not a one-night stand or any of the relationships I was in. You're a pro for sure."
For a moment the air feels heavy until you annonce, "Welp, I'm gonna go take a shower. I'm meeting up with some friends for brunch at noon."
In response, Harry mustered up a somewhat awkward reply, "Um, alright. Enjoy your shower." Left alone on his bed, Harry found himself half naked and still catching his breath from the intense orgasm he experienced a few minutes prior. He had intended to ask if he could reciprocate the favor, but you had already left before he had the chance too. It crossed his mind that perhaps you weren't interested in having the favor returned.
Maybe you don't particularly enjoy oral sex performed on you. Uncertain about your preferences, Harry's confident that if given the opportunity to perform cunnilingus on you, you'd undoubtedly fall in love with his skillful tongue. Just like the all the previous women who's praised his mouths abilities.
The truth is, you had desired Harry to return the favor. However, due to just waking up, you were unsure if your pussy smelled okay, let alone tasted alright. To avoid any negative response from him like you've had in the past from guys, you left before he could catch a glimpse of your moist cunt.
Nevertheless, because you're still experiencing a slight throb in your underwear, you discreetly brought one of your silicone vibrators into the shower to quickly satisfy yourself. Although you're certain that Harry's oral skills would have been superior, you'll have to wait a bit longer to get to experience that.
Once out of the shower, you dried off and got dressed to head out for the brunch you had planned with some friends. It was going to be at a small cafe in downtown London. As for Harry, he didn't really have any plans for today. Besides catching up on grading some tests his students took the Friday before. He hopes you're available tonight because he wishes to be able to spend more time with you. He loves spending time with you. He loves y..... Nope too soon for that.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran
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______________
My Masterlist Masterpost
Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)
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holdmytesseract · 2 days
Note
Hi love i wanted to request a drabble/blurb with tom hiddleston where he is getting ready with his pregnant wife for an event and she says something like i look like a whale or huge.....
Some reassurance, comfort and implied smut!!!!!!!
Nothing Less Than A Goddess
Tom Hiddleston x pregnant!Reader
Warnings: pregnancy stuff, insecurities, fluff, tiny bit suggestive smut
Word Count: blurb
a/n: Thank you for that sweet request, nonny! I hope you like what I came up with! 🤗
P.S. This gif is how I imagined him to look in that oneshot. 👀
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You stood in the bedroom in your underwear, after just having stepped out of the shower. "Love, are you ready soon? Luke will be here in about twenty minutes." You heard your husband call out for you, from which you presumed to be the kitchen or living room.
"Umm, yeah, I, uh, need to get dressed and perhaps put on a little make-up, but beside that..." An answer came immediately. "Shall I help you, darling? Or do you get along alone?"
You wanted to think about Tom's offer for a moment, but your mouth was faster than your brain. "Yes, please!"
"Alright! Just let me take off my suit jacket and shoes again!"
Now you kind of had a guilty conscience.
"Babe, you don't have to get halfway undressed just to help-" But it was, of course, already too late. Tom appeared no minute later in the bedroom, just in a navy blue shirt and tie, matching navy blue suit trousers and - black socks. "Yes, I have to, darling. No excuses. It's my obligation to help you," Tom stated, while making his way over to you and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek; palms came to rest on your six-month baby bump. "After all, I'm this little bean's dad," he announced; wearing one of his dazzling smiles.
Well, that was true. He had a point.
You couldn't help but smile and placed your forearms on his shoulders; fingers buried in his long blond-brown locks. "Okay," you said; nodding. "Thank you." Tom smiled even wider and turned his head to press a soft kiss against the bare skin of your arm; his scruff slightly tickling and scratching you.
"Now, let me help you." You nodded and turned to pick up your matching white dress from the bed. Tom being the gentleman and caring husband he was, helped you even to step inside; making sure that you didn't lose your balance. Then he zipped the zipper of the dress up; warm fingertips brushing your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine.
Once you were fully dressed, you took a look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The dress was new. You had never worn it before. How could you, with the steadily growing baby within your womb? Impossible. That dress would fit you probably not even a month...
"And?" Tom stepped behind you; hands on your hips and pulling you against your chest. "What do you think?"
You bit your lip; giving yourself a once-over. You gently turned from side to side in his embrace; getting a look from each angle. "I-I, uh, I honestly don't know, Tommy... I mean, I like the dress. It's beautiful, but..." "But?"
You sighed; knowing that lying to your husband wouldn't work. "I... I feel like I look like a whale. I-I mean, I am huge..." You swallowed hard; feeling very insecure all of a sudden.
Behind you, Tom blinked in disbelief. "Apologies... What did you just say, darling?" "That, uh, that I look like a... whale..." Your voice was barely above a whisper. The words hadn't even left your lips entirely, when the Brit started to shake his head. "Oh, no, no, Mrs. Hiddleston. I see what you're doing - and it's not good. I won't let you walk down that dark path."
Tom turned you gently in his embrace; pointer finger and thumb cupping your chin. "Look at me, darling." You complied; your eyes meeting his stunning ones. "You are neither huge nor do you look like a whale. Do I need to remind you that you are pregnant and that it's more than normal for your body to change?" "Y-Yes, but-"
"Ah.Ah," Tom interrupted you immediately. "Apologies, darling, but no. No buts. If you are anything, then beyond beautiful. Stunning. The prettiest woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. Nothing less than a goddess." You gasped; feeling your heart skip a few beats. "A-A goddess?"
Tom nodded. "A goddess, yes. Your skin is glowing. You look more radiant than ever. Your curves are..." He took a short break; licking his lips and swallowing hard. "...absolutely delicious. Drop-dead sexy. To me, Y/N, you are even more attractive than you've already been. I can't take my eyes off you. Especially not since your pregnancy really started to show."
You were kind of overwhelmed by his words; not having expected this. "Y-You really think that?" You asked; still a bit uncertain.
Tom smiled; his other hand giving your hip a soft squeeze. "Darling, would I ever lie to you?"
Your eyes widened. "N-No! Of course not!" He kissed your forehead. "See?"
You blushed.
"Now do you believe me, or do I have to show you how much I desire your body, once we get back home tonight?"
You wetted your lips; suddenly feeling bold. Tom's words had finally gotten through. Especially the last ones.
"Hmm, perhaps, you should yes," you answered; hand playing with his tie. Tom chuckled darkly; his hand on your hip sliding down to give your ass a small, playful slap. "Gladly."
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Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger
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cupidhoons · 17 hours
Text
you are the only exception ⟡ ksn
syn you hate everyone — everyone except him
genre & warnings non idol! au, popular(ish)! sunoo, grumpy reader x sunshine sunoo, pure fluff, s2f2l, lmk if there's more back2navi
NOTE HURRAY A SUNOO FIC!! i love my baby TO DEATH kim sunoo ily i wish U were Real 🙁🙁 this is also for @ashtxrie my fav sunoo stan 😇 also happy 200 posts to me :)!! thank you all for the love 🫶
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you hated school. you hated walking there every morning and you hated those teenage boys who are way too loud about their business. you hated the girls who would go up to you and tease you about how lonely you are. you hated every single aspect of your current life.
except for kim sunoo.
sunoo was the only person in your school to ever go up to you with clear intentions of being your friend. you remember him coming into the school and almost immediately became one of the popular kids. he was a ray of sunshine — your ray of sunshine.
he came up to you with the brightest smile anyone could ever have. you swore you fell in love right then and there — i mean, who wouldn't?
"hello! i'm sunoo, what's your name?!" he beams brightly. you were slightly taken aback by his actions, of course. no one ever came up to you unless they wanted to make a backhanded compliment towards you.
"um...hi?" you say hesitantly. it hasn't even been a full week since he's been here — did he already hear stuff about you?
he looks at you expectantly. with his bright eyes looking into yours, it was hard to focus on what he had just said to you. you hear him clear his throat and you snap back into reality.
"sorry...um...i'm y/n. it's nice to meet you, sunoo." you say in a monotoned voice. you expect him stop smiling and walk away — similar to how everyone else does — but to your surprise he doesn't.
from that day on he never left you alone. you didn't mind as it was nice to have someone around you. you eventually got closer and you slowly let your guard down. he was the first person to ever see you smile and laugh.
"oh my god! y/n, did you just laugh at my joke!?" he says in disbelief. you never usually laugh at his jokes — as they were incredibly corny — but today, you couldn't help it. not only was it actually funny, but it was also a sign that you were getting comfortable with him.
you giggle at his reaction as you nod. "i'm afraid i did. i didn't know you were capable of being funny!" he lets out a dramatic gasp which makes you smile even wider.
"and i didn't know you were capable of even smiling!"
"well, that makes the two of us."
since then your friendship has bloomed into more romantic terms. you realized that it was getting harder to focus on your schoolwork, which by the way, was unlike you. not only that, but you also had insane amount of butterflies whenever you talked to him.
so, one thing led to another. it got to a point where you couldn't keep in your feelings anymore and you ended up accidentally confessing. you worried that he was going to leave you — but he didn't.
"yah! why do you look like you're about to cry?! didn't you hear me?! i like you too, stupid!" he lightly pushes your shoulder in a teasing way then pouts. "you know i hate seeing you cry! and as your boyfriend, i can't let you cry!"
he pulls you closer to him and cups your face. you look at him surprised.
"i told you once that i'll never leave you. so don't worry, okay? i'm not going anywhere, nor do i plan to." and before you could say anything — he puts his soft lips on yours.
he stays true to his promise today. as you lay in bed with your now boyfriend, admiring his features as he sleeps. the sun seeping through the window as you snuggle closer to him — he was the only exception, and you didn't plan on changing that.
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permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @kyoaeri @copyhanni @flwrstqr @dioll @wonifullove
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mixelation · 3 days
Text
oh here's some toxicity (reborn au au). it's torito u_u
In another world, the assurance that Itachi would never leave her behind would be enough for Tori. She would find it comforting. She would move on. 
In this world, she really didn’t see why violent revenge couldn’t be her solution. 
“If you’re so mad about it,” Obito drawled at her, “just kill him yourself.”
Obito had thrown himself lazily over the armchair in the corner of her room, right on top of a pair of pants and a sweater she’d worn once and wanted to wear again before she washed them. The chair didn’t match anything else in the room, but it was comfortable. Obito had put it there himself, rescued from an Uchiha elder’s house after they’d died. 
(Of natural causes, he’d assured her.)
He was the primary person who ever sat in it, besides Tori’s laundry. He did it with the lazy decadence of a king in his throne. 
Tori, cross-legged on her bed, pouted back at him. The point wasn’t really that someone killed that guy. It was the intense loyalty the act would mean for her. Had Obito and Minato not both slaughtered absurd numbers of people in an act of love? She wanted that. She wanted someone who liked her like that. 
Would it be bad to break up with her fake-boyfriend if he wouldn’t real-murder for her…?
She had no idea how to explain all this to Obito without sounding completely unhinged. Instead she said, “I’d kill someone for Itachi.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Obito countered immediately. 
“I killed Danzo for him,” Tori said. 
“No,” Obito said, rolling his ankle in the air. He twirled a finger at her. “You convinced Danzo to do something stupid that got him killed because you get off on leading people to their doom.”
Tori pouted some more. 
“I’m glad sensei backed you up,” Obito said eventually, carefully not looking directly at her. His legs were over one arm of the chair, and he rolled an ankle in a loose circle. “You’re okay, right? Besides your unquenchable thirst for vengeance?” 
A sly smile cracked over Tori’s lips. He had shown up the second she was finally in her own home. 
“Aaaw,” she cooed. “Were you worried about me?”
Obito rolled his eyes and finally looked at her. “I just think if you get any more traumatized, you might actually figure out how to destroy the world. It’s the natural escalation of things.”
“You would know,” Tori replied. She unfolded her legs and scooted forward to sit on the edge of the bed closest to him. “Hey, Itachi spent the night the first night.”
Obito frowned at her. “What, you need a babysitter?”
“You could sit outside on the balcony like a gargoyle,” Tori replied. “Bark at passers by. You know.”
“Oooh,” Obito replied, dipping his head back as he leaned into the joke. “Oh, yeah, I could guard the whole apartment. My poor partner was traumatized, after all. I’ll keep anyone from coming in and bothering you. I’ll set up traps and chase your neighbors off. Maybe put up a blockade in the road.”
“Deidara will love this,” Tori said. 
“Deidara is one of the people I’m chasing away,” Obito replied smartly. 
They joked. They talked about silly, unimportant things. Tori watched Obito intently as they chatted. She liked seeing him like this, she thought. Obito was fun when he was relaxed and just fucking around. 
He looked good too, she decided. She missed the mask, but Obito definitely had a nice face. He had the pretty Uchiha cheekbones and a strong jaw, and the messy dark hair worked on him. Plus, he was tall and broad-shouldered and well-muscled and… hmm. 
Hmm. 
Obito started absentmindedly doing little kicks with his feet like a school girl while he groused about how much of the block he could get Deidara to blow up, just by being annoying. 
Tori decided to change her strategy. 
xXx
“I decided I want to break up,” Tori told Itachi. 
“Oh,” Itachi said, frowning down at her. “Why? I’m amenable to making changes.”
Tori shook her head. 
“I don’t mind helping you, or hanging out with you on dates,” she said. “But I realized this arrangement means I can’t pursue my own romantic interests.”
“Ah,” Itachi said. “I didn’t realize you had those.”
Neither did I, Tori thought. 
She nodded and waited to see if Itachi would say more. Maybe he would offer to murder or beat up the person she was interested in. That might make her stay. 
“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Itachi said after a beat. “Thank you for helping me. Would you mind if I said I was too heartbroken to date for a while?”
“Um,” Tori replied. “Maybe we should say we decided we’d be better as friends so we don’t mess that up, and you can say you want time to think about what you want out of a dating partner.” 
Itachi nodded thoughtfully and continued to not offer to kill for her. 
Oh well. She tried. 
xXx
When Obito jimmied open her window, Tori looked up from her desk like she’d been expecting him. Which, she probably was. Obito loved gossip. 
He flopped directly from the window sill into his chair and steepled his fingers. 
“So,” he said. He leered at her, lips pulling back from his teeth. “Did you break Itachi’s heart? Did he break yours? Tell me everything.”
Tori rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from her desk. Instead of the usual sweatpants she preferred when just sitting around her room, she was wearing one of her little sundresses. She brushed her hair over her shoulder as she eyed him. 
“I decided I might want to pursue my own interests,” she said bluntly. 
Obito raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Found some other sucker to sic on your enemies? Teenaged romances are so dramatic nowadays.”
Tori stood.
“I think that’s part of the problem,” she said. “I’m not really a teenager, am I?”
She ran her hands through the signs for a henge, and then a twenty year old Tori was standing in front of him. It was a better aging up than most teens could manage– Tori, after all, had once been physically an adult. She knew the subtleties of her own face and how her body would change with age. 
“Interesting strategy,” Obito said, unsure where this was going. Was she planning to use a henge to seduce someone older? Was Itachi about to lose to some two-bit chump who liked women in short skirts just because they’d agree to murder some other two-bit chump for Tori? That would be hilarious. 
Tori took a step towards him, and then another. She got close enough that the hem of her skirt brushed against his knee, and Obito suddenly realized that Tori’s skirt was quite short, wasn’t it?
“I decided I wanted to pursue more… adult interests,” Tori said, and then suddenly she was in his lap. 
“Wait,” Obito said, voice cracking. “Tori, what are you doing?”
Her hand went over his chin, her thumb and fingers squeezing his cheeks. Obito found this did alarming things to his insides. 
“Have I told you how much prettier your face is than it should be?” Tori said. Her thumb moved up and down his right cheek. “How about you let me mess it up again, and I’ll help you put your eye in Kakashi’s head?”
“What?” Obito full-on squeaked. 
He could overpower her and push her off. He didn’t. He felt frozen, transfixed by her eyes, dark and heavy as she looked at him. 
His heart pounded away in his chest. This was ridiculous, though. This was just Tori. She was probably angling to trick him into letting her store lab supplies in kamui or something. 
Then why the henge? He thought. Tori wasn’t above flirting to get what she wanted, but it was rarely her first choice strategy. He had no idea why it would be her strategy with him. 
The henge is the problem, he decided, hands sweaty. Sixteen year old Tori wasn’t hot. She just wasn’t; she was a teenager. He didn’t… he didn’t remember ever thinking adult Tori was all that hot either, but she’d never crawled into his lap. Maybe it was just the nostalgia this was calling up for him. Or maybe any pretty woman could get this reaction out of him. 
Pretty? No, fuck– well. Either way. He could just get rid of the henge. 
“No, stop that,” Tori said when he activated his sharingan. Her hand immediately went over his eyes. This did even more alarming things to his insides. 
“Oh, because the sharingan is so easily stopped,” Obito heard himself drawl back at her. 
His hands were gripping the arms of his chair instead of stopping her. This was bad. Many abilities of the sharingan could not be stopped simply by covering it, but covering it sure did stop him from seeing unsexy, henge-free Tori. 
He felt her shift, leaning forward. Her hair tickled his cheek and he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. When she spoke, he felt her breath on his lips. 
“Then stop me, if you want to,” she said. 
Obito gripped the chair harder. Tori shifted again, her hand staying over his eyes. She pressed her lips against his. 
I am going to stop this, Obito thought, and then instead kissed her back. 
Obito had only ever kissed Rin before, which had been weird and also terrible. This was also weird and terrible, but in a way where he didn’t want it to stop. Tori was familiar. She knew about the absolute darkest parts of him, and he wasn’t entirely convinced she wouldn’t murder him if given the chance. But she did know him, from his favorite bad jokes to his stint as a super villain. 
She broke the kiss first. 
“Are you going to be a good boy now?” she asked. 
It was embarrassing that he found her wording hot. 
“For you? Always,” he replied. 
She removed her hand from his eyes. He deactivated the sharingan, studying her face. He set his hands and her hips and then trailed them up her waist, and he watched as she bit her bottom lip in response. He liked that. 
There was no way she was doing this if she didn’t want something. Unfortunately, her method had worked in that he did now very much want to give it to her. But what would Tori want…?
“So you want that guy killed?” Obito asked. 
Tori’s eyes lit up. It was… extremely cute. Fuck.
76 notes · View notes
sulumuns-dootah · 2 days
Text
NSFW Alphabet - Leviathan
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A/N: Sorry this took a long time. Been a busy and chaotic past month, but I'm working on things so hopefully they'll be ready to post soon. Also, Levi isn't exactly my favorite so I had hard time analyzing and accounting for all the lore we have so far.
⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 
‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
If you had an intense encounter, you'd both need it, which is why he calls for his servants to come and care for the both of you. Otherwise, he doesn't mind to do some extra steps to get you comfortable.
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B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Our nice piece of ass loves your neck. The loyalty noose would look amazing around it. Or maybe his hands?
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C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
I'd say his cum tastes like caviar. He's technically a fish too, after all. Definitely the king whose cum I'd enjoy the least. It's also not as opaque, but with a slight shimmer.
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D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
While he's having some me-time, sometimes he puts on a noose around his neck and orders himself to hang.
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E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
With how rarely he trusts anyone, I'd say he barely has any. He gets the gist, knows many positions, but hasn't tried out most of them.
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F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Any position, really. As long as you're strangling him hard enough, he doesn't care.
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G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc.)
No jokes here. In fact, no jokes ever. Besides like some special circumstances.
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H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)
Perfectly silky smooth like the rest of him. There's no room for imperfection.
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I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
If he's bedding you, you're already doing something right. I imagine him being super vulnerable figuratively as well as literally with the strangling and all.
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J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
His main source of getting off. He can't even remember the last time he's slept with someone. Once you're in the picture, however, that immediately changes and his hands focus onto you.
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K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Beside the obvious breath control and getting beat up, he also strikes me as the type that would be into voyeurism as in getting watched fucking someone.
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L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Public places are out of the question. The safety of his castle is the only place where he allows himself to get loose.
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M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Jealousy, of course. But also public humiliation as long as he sees you as more than just his subject.
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N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Share a partner. He'd get too jealous and possessive. Unless, of course, you tie him up as a punishment. HE would actually enjoy that.
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O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Force him to go down on you and you'll have one of the best orgasms ever. In giving-head-contest he'd come close second (only beaten by the pussy devourer fly boy). While giving him head, he'd get super whiny and needy. Tease him and he'll lose his mind.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)
There's two ways Levi can go. Either he's downright lovemaking with you or the bedroom is a whole ass battlefield.
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Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Actually, thinking about the location again... I wanted to say that why have quickies when you're at his castle and have all the time in the world, but thinking about it, If the need arises and you're not in his chambers, he would definitely use his coffin to have a quickie with his partner.
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R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.)
Depending on the risk. He wouldn't mind seeing how long you can hang from the noose, but wouldn't try and introduce lovecraftian horrors in the bedroom.
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S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Leviathan's energy is stored in that juicy ass of his and boy, can he go for long time. The thing is, that he will, however, start complaining that he's tired and that you have to do the rest yourself.
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T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Levi doesn't really strike me as the type to use toys. His imagination is enough for him. In my mind he's more old fashioned and all these different toys are just a riffraff for him. (Meaning he's too shy to buy some and would be afraid to get caught using them.)
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U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Oh this man *italian hand motion* loves to tease, but the moment you tease back you have no time to react before you're hanging from the ceiling.
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V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Whimpers. This man whimpers and it's the best thing you've ever heard (besides Beel's purring). How loud, depends on the situation. If you're on the bottom, some might escape him. But if you're on top, oh boy, all the demons in the surrounding chambers know.
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W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Actually, not a hc, but more of an analysis of his H scene that I really want to talk about? Okay, so Levi makes it really obvious that he wants to be beaten and straight up just abused. This just screams to me a trauma response, which is extremely sad to me. The amount of abuse he had to endure to the point where his mind equates it to pleasure just so he doesn't go bonkers?
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X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Once again, if you have the Erolabs version, you're lucky to see his sausage in the game itself. I personally agree with the ingame depiction of Levi's dick (unlike certain pierced someone's).
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Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Actually, piggybacking off the wild card analysis, I think Levi can go anytime all the time. One of trauma responses tends to be hypersexuality (but I'm not a professional psychologist, so don't take my word for it). We even know about it from the Halloween event where Minhyeok says that Levi looks like he's in the mood despite fighting off angels.
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Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Not really a sleep I'd say, but he wouldn't mind snuggling up after some exhausting workout. Just don't get too used to it since he's too busy.
83 notes · View notes
ivrmmx · 15 hours
Text
Hybrid! Heeseung
Chapter 4: Don’t ignore me.
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Pairing: Hybrid! Heeseung x reader
Warnings: really angst (might hurt a bit), Jealous h Heeseung, cussing, Heeseung gets slightly violent, angst to fluff (kinda), reader adopt a new hybrid, mentions of bleeding, mentions of Heeseung pushing reader, mentions of Heeseung punching and hitting the other hybrid. Suggestive behavior and language.
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I called him again, no response. When I first met him he was so quiet and sweet, would never hurt anyone. Why did he change? Is it my fault? was I being too strict? No.. he knew, he knew and didn’t care.
So why should I care?
I wipe my tears, I head up stairs going into my room seeing him already laying down. I lay down next to him trying to avoid any contact whatsoever, he didn’t deserve it after treating me like shit. I turn onto my side, the silence and coldness felt like daggers stabbing me deep on my chest.
I close my eyes in attempt to brush it all off, maybe if I rest and he rest tomorrow will be better?
You go back to your room, Heeseung’s is already laying down facing the wall. You crawl back to bed quietly attempting to ignore Heeseung. It feels so cold, so empty.
This isn’t my fault… I didn’t mean to make him mad. I was just worried..
You thought to yourself.
A couple of tears slip out, but who cares? You shift around until you find a comfortable position, somewhat close to Heeseung. Enough to feel his warmth.
You fall asleep after. Wasn’t the best sleep of your life for a fact, but it’s better than not resting at all. At least, it was still going to be the weekend so school wouldn’t be stressing during this situation.
10:32 a.m
You slowly wake up, your eyes burn after crying yourself to sleep last night. Heeseung is gone again. But at this point it’s not light you can do anything about it now.
You get sit up on the bed and rub your eyes tiredly. You kinda stumble getting up, as you grab onto the nightstand for support. You whine in pain as your head start hurting.
You walk downstairs, seeing that Heeseung is no where to be seen. You feel a slight pain in your chest but what is there you can do? You can either call Shuhua to ask if she has Jungwon with her or just let it go.
But then, a plan comes onto your mind. Make Heeseung jealous and treat him like he treats you. Yea it’s harsh, but that’s how he will learn.
12:06 p.m
You just got ready to head out. Head out where? Obviously, the hybrid shelter.
You make it to the hybrid shelter right when they opened. You enter and start looking around.
Should I get another hamster or maybe.. an exotic one? A fox? A black Panther? Hmm..
You look around near the exotic enclosures. But this one, this one black panther calls your attention. But the problem is, that he is known by Heeseung. The day you went looking for him, you saw this panther. This exact one. You decide to purchase the black panther. He’s shy and very introverted.
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His tail tucked between his legs as you walk him towards your car.
“ You know where Heeseung is. Don’t you?”
You ask the hybrid. He immediately starts getting nervous. Shaking his head rapidly. It was obvious he did know, I mean, how else would’ve he gotten caught and brought into this shelter?
“It’s okay, Heeseung ran away. Guess he doesn’t love me anymore, huh?” You chuckle slightly knowing this hurts you inside.
The hybrid seems to actually listen to you, hope he doesn’t turn out to be like Heeseung. Hope he is kind and won’t betray me.
“Whats your name anyways?” You glance at the panther from the driver’s seat.
“Riki.”
He says, his voice barely above a whisper but so deep.
“Okay, Riki.”
His ear softly twitch at the use of his name, he glanced over at you.
“I should let Heeseung go, right? I mean isn’t that what he wants?”
Riki shrugs. “Maybe he just.. doesn’t like being looked over.”
“I wasn’t even being strict.” You roll your eyes. “But can I tell you a plan?”
“Go ahead,” says Riki.
“Im planning on making Heeseung jealous. Maybe that way he will turn back to me.”
Riki nods and smirks
“I got you. He has always been jealous over everything that is his”
For some reason, your cheeks burn up. His? He claimed you as his?
2:12 p.m
Yo and Riki have already planned this out, Riki knew when Heeseung would come back. He could smell him near. That hamster smell made his pupils dilate.
“Is he near?” You ask.
“He’s walking down the hallway towards the door.” Riki answers.
Riki pulls you into his lap, you blush. You both pretend to be watching a movie or something. As you both hear the door open. You both look towards the door.
Heeseung stands there, clearly confused and jealous. The scene of his owner on some other random, no, not even random. His closest friend on his lap made Heeseung’s blood boil.
“Riki? What are you doing here?” Heeseung asks with a cold voice.
“I got adopted by this beautiful girl. Why? Something wrong?” Riki is playing along so well.
“She’s my owner. So she shouldn’t be on your lap.” He steps closer.
Riki is about to say something but you cut him off. “Stop arguing. It’s annoying. Heeseung just go out like you always do. Shouldn’t even bother you this much.” You glare at Heeseung. It was clear those words hurt him, his ears made it hard for him to hide his jealousy, anger, and sadness.
“I don’t care. Get off of him.” He demands.
“You don’t tell me what to do Heeseung.” You say back.
“Fuck off Heeseung.” Riki jumps in.
Heeseung looses it. He walks towards you and Riki pushing you off him roughly. He grabs Riki by his collar and punches him.
“Heeseung stop!” You yell pulling onto his arm to try and stop him from hitting Riki. That doesn’t stop him though, he pushes you away again. You fall to the ground as you keep yelling at him to stop but you slowly start passing out realizing that when Heeseung pushed you, your head hit the edge of the sharp table. The last thing you saw was Heeseung hitting Riki one last time before turning to look at you and you looking at you hand covered in blood from your head.
You half out after a seeing heeseung run towards you in a panic.
5:47 p.m
It’s been a while since you passed out. You woke up from the deep sleep touching your head and feeling something around the wound. Bandages. You look around for a bit and see Heeseung laying next to you no the bed.
“Heeseung?..” you barely whisper. He slowly opens his eyes and smiles. “You’re okay..” he says.
“Where’s Riki?” His ears slightly move down as you apparently didn’t care much about him but cared a lot for Riki.
“He’s sleeping. And you? Are you okay? I’m sorry. I lost control.” He says sadly. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have made you jealous on purpose.” You apologize.
“It was on purpose?” He looks at you with a bit of an annoyed face. “I’m sorry I just wanted to make you feel how a felt.” You whisper.
“I know I was a brat. I just don’t like being told what to do.” He whispers in you ear as he pulls you closer.
“It’s fine, I Guess i was being too protective that I forgot you were wild.” You chuckle a bit. Heeseung smiles and kisses your cheek. “But is Riki okay?” You ask kind of concerned, “I said he is fine.” He says kind of cold. “Okay okay, calm down I was just asking. He’s still my pet after all.” You roll your eyes.
“Wait. You actually adopted him?” He frowns a bit. “Yea? What’s wrong? Isn’t he your friend?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. Why does Heeseung seem to be jealous over his friend? I mean, aren’t they close? “That little black panther. He will try and take you away from me. He has always done that. He’s such a bitch-“. “Hey!” You cut him off. “I’ll train him okay? Also don’t say bad words. Watch your language and respect.” You place a finger on-top of his lips.
With a smirk, he grabs a hold of you wrist and kisses your palm. “Either way, he won’t ever take you away. I already claimed you.” He whispers into your hand as he stares deep into your eyes.
“What do you mean?” You ask confused. “Do you not remember, darling?” He smirks, his eyes turning dark with lust. “R-remember what?..” you seem to be getting a bit nervous. “That night. The night I made you mine.”
That night.
That night, that you wanted to not be brought up again after.
“We don’t talk about that.” You look away with a flushed face. “Why? Is it because you get wet just by thinking about it? Or because you’re embarrassed that you let a hybrid claim you from inside out?” He travels his free hand down to your waist.
“Shut up.” You say kind of mad and annoyed. “Or what? You will punish me? I’ll like to see you try.” He leans closer. “Ugh you little..” you get up and out of his embrace.
He chuckles and lays back down. “Aren’t you too hurt to get up?” He smirks, why is he acting like a jerk now. “I Can do what i want.” You snap back, even if your vision was kinda blurry.
“Alright, princess.” He says putting his arms behind his head and resting. He looks so vulnerable right now.
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You make your way to the guest room looking for Riki. You spot him laying down on the bed, his eyes close and his lips slightly parted.
You sit down next to his sleeping body. He seems to react to the movement, slowly opening his eyes and looking at you with a smile.
“Well hello there.. care to tell me what happened earlier?” Riki says with a sleepy voice.
“Shouldn’t you be the one explaining?” You say.
“What did he tell you know? That I’m stealing you from him? Don’t believe him, he always says that. He’s manipulating you.” He sits up, putting his weight on his elbows.
“No.. he didn’t tell me anything.” You look down kinda alert, who is lying? Who is actually trying to save you?
“Well just know, that I’m always listening. I’m the best option you have. Heeseung has always used his first appearances to lure people. But no one knows his real identity. I mean, yeah he looks like a cute hamster. But there’s more to that little sweet hamster everyone talks about.”
Now, you’re completely lost. Your head hurts trying to figure out who is right and who is trying to trick you.
“Alright.” You say without looking at him, getting up and leaving the guest room trying to connect the dots.
While pacing around the living room, you jumbo into a tall person, Heeseung.
He smirks and looks down at you. “What’s wrong? Who got you thinking so hard now, Hm? He places his hands on your waist as he pulls you closer.
“Nothing, just school work..” you purse your lips together and nod. “If you say so, princess.” He lets go of you.
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Riki later comes out of his room, he seems.. fine? No more bruising. “What’s going here?” He says with that deep voice.
“Talking with my owner.” Heeseung seems to squint dangerously at him, like as if he was sending a signal to Riki to stay away from you. “Your owner, huh?” Riki scoffs. “I’m pretty sure she chose me.”
Riki grabs your arm and pulls you away from Heeseung into his chest. You gasp kinda.
“The hell is your problem, Riki?” Heeseung raises his voice.
“My problem? Do you mean, your problem? Who are you to trick this beautiful human into using her.” Riki presses you harder into his chest.
“Im not tricking her. She’s mine. Let her go.” Heeseung approaches you and Riki, ready to grab you back.
“She’s not yours. She’s mine now. You may have had that connection with her and marked her, but mentally and by heart, she’s mine.” You can feel Riki’s breath and heart beat speeding up.
But what caught your attention the most was, how did he know you and Heeseung did that? “How did you..” you look up at Riki confused. “Know that Heeseung scented you inside out? Or more like breed you? He told us.” You cuts you off. This answer makes you extremely confused and embarrassed.
“Us??” You say with a low tone. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N.” Heeseung says. “Why Heeseung? You don’t want her to know how you talk about her?” Riki says in a cold tone, in like a dare me voice. “What..?” You say.
“Shut up, Riki. You don’t know anything. Now, give her back to me.” Heeseung seems to be loosing his temper again. “Riki please.. clam down.. Heeseung clam down..” you say scared. Not wanting them to fight again.
They both turn to look at you, now staring at you with concern. “It’s okay, princess” Heeseung says in a sweet tone. “Baby, look at me.” Riki demands. You look at him but then back at Heeseung. You’re completely lost.
Heeseung grabs your waist and tries pulling you back but Riki doesn’t budge you out. “Don’t call her baby. She’s mine.” Heeseung growls at Riki. Riki smirks, “I’m sure she already got used to being with me. Well, before you get here and destroyed the fun.” Riki seems to be wanting to fight. But why is he lying? Does he want Heeseung to get mad again?
“Riki what are you talking about?” You look at him with a wtf look. “What, baby? About our fun night?” Riki glares at Heeseung, he seems to be wanting Heeseung to get angrier and angrier. “What fun night?” You ask again.
Riki ignores you. But Heeseung now looks heartbroken but even angrier. “That’s it,” heeseung snaps before pulling you towards him roughly, holding you tight against him. “He’s lying isn’t he? I told you he manipulated everyone I love.” Heeseung tells you but he’s looking at Riki.
“Just admit it baby, I’m better. I Can treat you better.” Riki says.
“Im her one and only, so don’t play Riki.”
Now, who do you chose? Riki or Heeseung?
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I apologize for taking to long. I have been busy with testing and that stuff. But anyways. Who are y’all choosing? Riki or Heeseung????
74 notes · View notes
annwrites · 2 days
Text
exactly what he needs, pt. 3 ♡ ⋆。˚ | pt1 | pt 2
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: nate takes you shopping at the mall, to dinner, then bowling, before dropping you off at home.
— tags: having a great day with nate, even if he has ulterior motives
— tw: dollification, objectification, sexualization, emotional manipulation, pushing boundaries, guilt-tripping, drinking, eating
— word count: approx. 6.4k
— a/n: i have never been inside a nordstrom in my life, so i have 0 idea what their changing rooms actually look like. | baby-doll dresses | tennis skirt | blush | necklace
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GIF by msgorillagripcoochie
Once you and Nate are on the road, he decides to offer you full access to his car's stereo once again—he has an aux cord stored away in the center console, which he'll only offer if you can't figure out how to pair your phone through bluetooth.
There's just something about the idea of his truck being saved in your phone that appeals to him. Hell, maybe he'll get lucky and you'll fuck up, letting it read your calls and texts, too. He wouldn't mind finding out who all you're talking to.
If he's lucky, it'll be people he knows. People he can spin stories to you about to get you to cut them out of your life.
He'd made the mistake with Maddy in letting her have friends. Like Cassie—he didn't need to list the problems she'd caused. Then there was Kat, always her enabling little sidekick. Even Lexi to an extent, who he knows you're also friends with. He supposes as far as female friends to have goes, Lexi is the better one to keep company with, but she's still Cassie's sister.
He knows he'll, in time, need to figure out a way to get rid of her. But that's a problem for future him.
"Would you like to play some music?"
You smooth out the skirt of your dress. "Sure. Do you have a uh-"
"It has bluetooth."
"Oh."
Great, you think, I get to spend the next fifteen minutes looking like an idiot as I fight to get the thing to pair with my cell.
Surprisingly, however, you get it to sync up rather quickly. You scan through your music, now sweating, wondering what song to choose. What if he thinks your taste in music is stupid? Then, you mentally shrug. He can take over at that point if he thinks so.
Eventually, a soft melody begins to drift through the cabin, low enough that it serves simply as pleasant background noise, until Nate reaches over, turning the volume up, making you shrink back in your seat.
You turn the room a shade heaven, and learn my name.
You flush. You shouldn't have chosen a stupid romantic song. You should've chosen anything else.
You look out the window, refusing to sing along like you normally would as the chorus starts.
No one ever will love me better than your everlasting love. I found only one way in and no way out...
You fold your hands in your lap, waiting for the damn song to eventually end.
Finally, once the tempo has faded, Nate turns the radio down.
"Is that one of your favorite songs?"
You glance at him, nodding.
He can tell you're embarrassed, but can't understand why. He thinks it sweet: one of your favorite songs being one about love.
He then wonders if you sing. Perhaps, if so, you'll do so once you're more comfortable being around him like this.
"I liked it."
"Oh, good," you say, still flushed.
He likes how easily he has that effect on you.
"So, where are you wanting to head to?"
You shrug, fumbling with your phone and turning some lofi music on instead now. Nothing with lyrics.
"Wherever you want to go is fine with me."
He likes that: you letting him choose for you. Letting him make a decision for the both of you.
He enjoys how easily agreeable you are today.
He hopes it's due to you feeling comfortable enough with him that you trust him to do so.
"Do you want to eat first, or would you like to go to the mall for a bit?"
You glance at the clock and see that it's only a few minutes past four. "I can wait a couple more hours to eat."
He nods, heading in the direction of the East Highland mall.
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Once Nate has parked, he comes around to your side and you nearly slip on the running board, falling against his chest.
He catches you, helping you down.
You look up at him, your face a shade of red. "Sorry. Thanks."
Stupid klutz—should've worn boots, you think.
He shuts the door behind you, quickly locking the vehicle before placing his hand against the small of your back. "No problem."
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As you enter the mall, a pair of men leave, glancing at you. Admiring you, from Nate's perspective.
His grip tightens imperceptibly, pulling you the least bit closer to him as he gives the men a nasty look.
Meanwhile, you're oblivious, instead overwhelmed by the sights and sounds and smells, the awful florescent lighting overhead. God, you hate crowds.
You look up to him, just wanting him to pick a store to get you out of the way of everyone milling about. Coming here on a Friday afternoon was a bad idea.
He looks down at you. "Where to first?"
He can see that you're nervous. His brows furrow. "Do crowds make you uneasy?"
You nod, your eyes staring into his, practically screaming for him to get you out of here.
He lets his hand drop to his side, then speaks again. "Do you want to hold my hand?"
You blanch.
Having something—someone—to ground you and lead you through the throngs of people surrounding you sounds nice enough, but what if someone from school is here and sees you? And won't it seem a bit childish? That you're that easily overstimulated that you have to hold another grown-person's hand in a shopping mall?
Just as you're about to tell him no—that you're ok—someone bumps into you, shoving you into his side.
Your hand quickly latches onto his.
Nate twines his fingers between yours.
You don't see the smirk on his face.
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Nate leads you into Nordstrom, a store you've never been in before because you know it's far, far out of your price-range, but you don't object as you step inside, the crowds behind you fading away as quiet pop music plays overhead, only a handful of people browsing the racks of clothing.
You look up to him, suddenly unsure of yourself.
"You can look around, if you want."
You release his hand and he already hates the feeling of his palm being empty.
You step over to a rack of midi dresses and your eyes widen when you see a price tag for $120.
Nate keeps close to your side. "Do you like that one?"
He knows he doesn't—hates midi and maxi dresses—but he wants to buy you something today. Anything. He just wants to give you your first real present from him.
He doesn't count him bringing you breakfast everyday for the last week—despite your objections, even if you did always finish it with a grateful 'thank you'—as as much.
You place the dress back where it was hanging, shaking your head. You look up to him. "That dress it over one-hundred dollars. Nate, I can't afford to shop here."
Not unless they have a clearance section, you think. But even then...
Nate steps away from you for a moment, his attention now stolen away by a white babydoll dress with puffy sleeves. Fucking perfect, he thinks.
He grabs it off the high hook which it hangs from—something you'd never be able to reach—and goes to hand it to you.
"Try this on."
You hesitantly take it from him, a confused expression on your face. "Why?"
He shrugs. "I just think it'd look nice on you."
You hold it up to yourself, not liking that it comes up well-above your knees.
"I don't thi-"
"The changing rooms are this way," he says, nodding his head in the direction of the back of the store. He doesn't care to hear you argue. You're trying the dress on. He needs to see it on you.
He'd been picturing you wearing—essentially—that exact dress for over a week now.
He places his palm against your back, leading you to the desired destination.
Once you've reached the back of the store, Nate opens a wooden door to one of the changing areas and just stares at you, waiting for you to enter.
Finally, you sigh, stepping in.
"I'll be waiting right out here," he says before closing the door behind you.
You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, realizing just how different—how little—you look like yourself right now. But you consider it, perhaps, a good thing: forcing yourself out of your comfort zone, even just a little.
You'd been considering finally wearing the sundress that Nate had picked out for you for a few weeks now. It was nice of him to compliment it—you. You aren't entirely sure how you feel about your hair being down, however.
Finally, you hang the dress up that he'd handed you, deciding to get undressed. The sooner you've tried it on, the sooner you can be out of this over-priced boutique.
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Nate sits in a chair directly outside of your changing room, watching your legs shift from one foot to the other, until, finally, your sundress pools at your feet.
His cock hardens, knowing just a few feet away is your half-naked body. He leans back, waiting a minute, then two, then he stands.
He gently knocks on the door and you jolt in surprise.
"Y-yes?"
"Do you have it on?"
"Yes..."
"May I come in? I'd like to see."
You balk. He wants to come into the changing room with you? Is that even allowed?
"Isn't that against some sort of policy?"
He likes how much of a good girl you are—no, fuck it, loves it—but in this moment his patience is wearing real fucking thin. "No one else is out here," he replies as gently as he can.
A beat of silence, and then the lock on the door handle clicks.
He quickly enters the changing room, promptly taking in every inch of you.
You look just how he had imagined you would.
You don't meet his eyes. "I look so stu-"
"Perfect," he interrupts.
You look up to him. "What? Really?"
He studies you for a moment, your wide innocent eyes staring up at him, waiting for him to answer.
He runs his fingers through the hair draped over your shoulder. He then runs his hand along that same shoulder down your upper arm, where it comes to rest. "Yes. I just wish you could see what I do."
You blink up at him, then sniffle.
"Are you crying?" He nearly cringes. That question had come out a bit more harsh than he'd meant for it to. He'd wanted you emotionally vulnerable numerous times for the last week so he could finally find a way in, and now here it is. He prays he didn't just fuck it up.
You nod. "I'm sorry. I'm just...no one has ever been this nice to me."
He almost breathes a sigh of relief. He hadn't hurt your feelings.
So that's all it's going to take with you: a few kind gestures, some nice words, a few soft touches, and you'd be like putty in his hands. His to mold as he pleases.
This was what being alone for so long had done to you: made you desperate for affection—of any kind.
You step a bit closer to him, unsure of yourself, unsure what you're doing or even why.
When he doesn't move, you press yourself against his broad chest, taking him completely by surprise.
Fine with being alone his ass. That entire statement had been utter bullshit. Not even you understand just how lonely you are.
Finally, he wraps one arm around you, holding you close, his other hand slipping into your hair, massaging your scalp.
You remain quiet, just focusing on his breathing, the beat of his heart, his warmth. When was the last time someone had held you like this? Hugged you? Shown you any form of affection or attention?
You'd truly thought you were fine without it.
Meanwhile, Nate's head is racing. God, you'd shown him just in this action alone just how easy it was going to be to manipulate you. A couple of compliments had nearly brought you to tears? Just wait until the two of you are in a relationship. No, starting tonight he'll begin pouring it on heavier.
But once you two are together? He'll fucking suffocate you with gifts and attention and love. And above all: sex. That will be his weapon. You're inexperienced. Know nothing about it. A few orgasm denials and Lexi will be long-gone from your life.
Then he'll no longer have to worry about the risk of her relaying stories of he and Cassie, or he and Maddy to you. Won't have to worry about his occasional shitty behavior toward them coming to light, driving—no, taking—you away from him.
If you ever find out about the choking incident...it'll be over before it ever begins.
He feels you snuggle the least bit closer to him and he briefly glances to the mirror to the side of both of you. He sees that your eyes are closed and your cheeks are flushed.
Finally, he pulls away and you look up at him, shame filling your features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I-"
He gently grips your chin. "I didn't mind."
"Oh." It's the only reply you have. It feels inappropriate—being here with him like this. You're in a changing room together, for God's sake. You'd tutored numerous people before and never had you ever spent any amount of time with any of them outside of school.
But Nate is different. You tutor him in private, whereas all the rest had been at school or in public. There'd never been a chance at friendship with any of them. You'd convinced yourself that it was something you didn't need in the first place anyway. Told yourself you were better off alone.
High school is temporary, along with the friends that come with it. No point in getting attached to someone who won't be sticking around.
You know all too well about abandonment.
Nate will probably be just like all the rest.
You take a step back. "I should probably change."
"I never got to see the whole dress. Can you turn for me?"
You pause. "Like... Twirl?"
He crosses his arms, just staring at you.
Finally, you begin to slowly turn until you're facing him once again. "Ta-da,"you say nervously.
He turns toward the door, placing his hand over the handle. "It looks really cute on you, just so you know."
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While you're busy changing, Nate quickly returns to the rack from earlier, grabbing the same dress you were currently taking off, along with another one, but in light blue. He then spots a pink tennis skirt and grabs it as well, with a matching flowy top. He takes all the items up front, to a register.
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When you exit the changing room, you see Nate straight ahead, standing just outside the store.
You come up to him, glancing down to the shopping bag in his hand, then up to him with a concerned impression. Surely he didn't...
He shrugs. "Just something for my mom."
You smile, feeling relieved. "That's very sweet of you, to get something for her."
He just offers you his hand again, which you take after a moment.
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As the two of you wander around, mostly window-shopping, you try to ignore just how nice it feels to be holding someone else's hand. To be touched at all. You briefly wonder if he thinks you pathetic now, after what happened in the changing room.
You glance up to him. "Nate?"
"Hm?"
"You're sure it didn't bother you?"
He doesn't need you to elaborate to know what you're referring to. He likes that you're insecure and emotionally fragile. Broken pieces in the palms of his hands.
That had been another issue with Maddy—she'd been too independent, too confident, too secure and comfortable with herself. Whereas Cassie had known what he wanted and had tried to mold herself into it, all in some attempt to keep him interested.
But you? You're clueless to the ways of men. You're just...you. Intelligent, book only in a book-smart sort of way. Sweet—so fucking sweet it makes his teeth ache. Quiet, and reserved—prim and proper and meek.
And he'd thought it before and would again—so. fucking. innocent. You have no idea the power you already have over him. And he wants it to stay that way. Wants to be the one in complete control this time around, without being given permission to be, like Cassie had given him.
She'd told him what she had wanted: him to choose her clothes, what she eats, to decide who she could talk to—the list went on and on. Because she had clocked him from day one—the type of guy he was—that he was desperate for control.
With you, it will be gradual, insidious manipulation until he's all you have left in your life to turn to. Until, one day, you look up, and everything is different and you have no goddamn idea how you've gotten to where you are.
He stops walking, still keeping your hand firmly in his, incase you decide to wander. "Not at all."
"I don't..." you shift nervously. "I don't know what happened. I'm not usually like that. I don't get emotional in front of other people, like, ever."
He gives you a kind smile. "It's ok, really. I just don't think you're used to it."
"What?"
"Kindness. Someone wanting to give you their attention and time. You don't have to worry, I still like hanging out with you."
You look down and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.
"Good," you reply.
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The two of you stop in at Sephora, and while you browse their lipglosses, Nate steps away, looking through their selection of blushes, until he finds a soft pink shade that he likes and he takes it up, quickly paying for it, and placing the small bag within the larger Nordstrom one. One more gift for you.
When you leave the cosmetic store, you excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes into the Tiffany store next door, browsing their necklace collection, until he spots one that he deems perfect for you: silver, with a small diamond pendant hanging from it. He doesn't even bother looking at the price tag when he asks an employee to retrieve the item from a glass case and box it up for him.
He's waiting for you when you exit the restroom.
He takes your hand in his, not bothering to let you make the gesture this time.
"Hungry?"
You nod.
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Nate, though he doesn't want to, bothers with asking where you'd like to go to eat as he watches you buckle yourself in—wishing you'd let him do that himself, but knows him taking such an extreme measure for your safety this early will do nothing more than freak you out.
You shrug. "I don't go out much, so I'm not sure what all is around here. You can choose, if you'd like?"
He smiles, unsure the last time he felt so happy and in-control as he shuts your door.
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Nate takes you to a rather expensive bistro, perhaps twenty minutes away from the mall, his right hand itching to wedge itself between your bare thighs as he drives, but he doesn't dare touch you. Not yet. The only thing he has to keep himself in-check right now is the surety that, soon enough, you'll be all his to do with as he pleases.
Every inch of you.
When Nate comes around to your side of the truck, after he's opened your door, he takes things a step further this time, gripping both of your hips, helping you down. As he sets you on your feet again, before you can say a word, he speaks. "Didn't want to risk you tripping again."
He adjusts your dress and your hair, then takes your hand firmly in his as he leads the two of you inside.
You immediately feel regret in him bringing you here. You should've told him literally anywhere else, so long as it was cheaper.
The rustic décor alone screams pretentious. And you know the menu will be even worse.
But just as you think to tug on his arm and ask him to take you elsewhere, a hostess greets the two of you, leading you to a table in a corner near a window.
Nate pulls out your seat for you, scooting you in, then seating himself.
You both pick up menus, and you're thankful your face is hidden by yours when you see the outrageous pricing.
You can barely afford a small salad here.
"Have you been here before?" You ask, still hidden by your menu.
"Mhm, their food is pretty good. I thought you might like it."
Unless it's dipped in gold, it can't be worth what they're charging is what you want to say. Instead, you remain silent.
Finally, your server arrives. An older woman, with red curly hair, freckles, and a curvaceous figure greets the two of you with a smile. "Do you two know what you'd like to drink?"
Nate looks at you.
"Water, thank you."
She nods.
"It'll be one check, and a diet coke."
She nods again, leaving the two of you to each other.
You look at him, now panicking...just a bit. "You don't have to pay for me. It's fine, really, I-"
He lifts his menu, glad that it apparently works in getting you to be quiet about his spending money on you. Again.
You'd already freaked out enough over him bringing you breakfast for three days in a row, until the fourth when you finally ate in silence.
"I told you I was taking you to dinner. It was my idea to bring you here, so it's only fair that I pay."
You cross your legs at the ankle, unsure how to feel about that.
You simply lift your menu again, now even more unsure of what to get.
He sets his menu down, seeing that you're now hidden behind your own once again. "I know their choices can seem a bit overwhelming the first time you come here. Would you like me to order for you?"
You lower your menu. "You're sure?"
He gives a slight nod of confirmation.
It's then that your waitress returns with your drinks and you stay silent, sipping on ice water as Nate orders dinner for both of you.
As you wait for your penne alla vodka—all you know is that it's some sort of pasta—Nate stretches out his long legs under the table on either side of your chair.
"I've had a really nice time with you today," he says, a soft look in his eyes.
You wrap your sweaty hands around your cold glass. You smile. "Me too."
He crooks his head slightly to the side. "Would you like to go bowling after this?"
Your brows raise. "You want to?"
He nods. "I do if you do."
You glance out the window for a moment. "I'm not sure the last time I went bowling. I think when I was really little."
He leans forward, foot brushing against one of yours completely on purpose, so as to pull your attention back to him. "So is that a yes?"
You blush. "I guess so."
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Nate glances up to you every few moments from his steak and rice, watching as you take small bites of your pasta.
"Do you like it?"
You quickly grab your napkin, wiping your lips. You nod, swallowing. "It's really good. You chose well for me. Thank you."
He smiles, his foot "accidentally" brushing against your leg again. "You're welcome, sweetheart."
You grow quiet again at the pet name, taking another bite of your meal.
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Once the two of you have finished your dinner, Nate pays the check from his phone before standing, throwing two twenty-dollar bills on the table—you're impressed that he tips so generously—then pulling your chair out for you.
He twines his fingers between yours before leading you back out to the truck.
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Once Nate has paid for a game of bowling for the two of you, you both go to your designated spot. You sit to put on the pair of hideous bowling shoes you've been given, until Nate sits on the small table in front of you, grabbing your foot and resting it atop his knee as he slips the shoe on your foot, tying the laces.
You laugh nervously. "I can do that."
He merely glances up to you, before doing the same with your other foot.
Once you feel well and truly like you have on a pair of clown shoes, you go first...and miss every single pin.
Nate stands behind you laughing. "It was a good try."
He'd not actually bothered watching you play, he'd instead watched as you'd bended over slightly, getting a brief flash of your pink panties before you released the heavy bowling ball.
You go to sit down. "Shut up," you say, clearly embarrassed.
Nate goes next...and of course gets a strike on the first try.
You tell yourself not to pout; that you're not a competitive person by nature.
"I'm just rusty is all."
"Mhm," he replies with a knowing smirk before leaning down, hands planted on either side of you. "I'm going to get a drink. Want anything?"
You glance behind you at the concessions, looking over their menu. Meanwhile, Nate looks you over. Your neck, which he wants to lick and kiss and leave hickies all over to mark you as his. Then down your dress at the swell of your breasts...which he wants to do the same to. Then your thighs that he wants to shove his face between.
When you finally look back at him, you jump, seeing that he's still looking right at you. "Oh, uh, maybe just a water?"
He reaches up, brushing some hair out of your face. "Not hungry?"
You shake your head. "I'm still full from dinner."
Right. Dinner.
"I thought at least some cotton candy," he replies, before walking away.
You're left sitting there, wondering what that was supposed to have meant.
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When Nate returns, it's with two Budweisers and a bottle of water, which he hands to you.
You stare at the extra bottle he sets on the table as he twists the top off of the other one, taking a swig of it.
"Is that smart?"
He looks at you with a raised brow. "Hm?"
"Drinking...since you're driving?"
He smirks. "It takes a lot more than two beers to get me drunk, Y/N. But if it makes you that uncomfortable, you can always drive us back."
He's not sure how he feels about letting you drive his truck, in truth. He'd never let Maddy, and sure as hell not Cassie behind the wheel. He was more-so offering to see if you'd let on whether you know how to drive or not.
And he gets his answer, just like he was wanting.
"I...I don't know how."
He sits on the same table from earlier, your legs between both of his knees.
"Not at all?"
You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed of the admittance. "No one has ever exactly been around to teach me."
You're no longer looking at him now, so you don't see the frown on his lips.
"I could teach you."
Your head jerks up. "That's probably not a good idea."
He takes another sip of his beer. "Why not?"
"What if...what if I hit something with your truck, or damage it?"
"I have insurance."
You nearly roll your eyes. "Ok, what if I hit a person?"
He notices your lip twitch, trying to fight a smile.
He grins. "It has a big bed."
You laugh and so does he. God, being with you is so easy.
He holds out the bottle to you. "Do you want a drink?"
You consider it for a moment, then of course shake your head. "No, thank you."
"Have you ever even drank before?"
You don't want to give him the answer to that either. "No."
"Really?" He asks, a bit of surprise to his tone—even if he isn't actually surprised at all. If it's 'bad' for you, he's sure you've never done it before.
You nod, feeling like a total fucking square. "How did they even give it to you in the first place?"
He stands, briefly removing his wallet from his back pocket and he hands you his fake ID.
"Oh."
"I can get you one made, if you want?"
You shake your head, handing it back to him. "I'm ok."
He likes you innocent and unknowing, but he isn't used to someone being so...within the lines. He can't tell whether he wants to corrupt you or not. Perhaps he'll just start with doing so in bed and go from there when the time comes.
Once he has you daydreaming about his cock, he'll move onto bigger targets.
He puts his wallet back away, then jerks his head back toward the bowling alley. "Your turn, sweetheart."
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Halfway through the game, you get your first strike and you squeal in delight, causing a smile to breakout across Nate's face.
You jump up and down, then run toward him and he catches you in his arms just in time as you wrap your legs around his waist, only spilling a little of his beer. "I did it!"
He laughs, loving seeing you so fucking happy for just one moment.
"I see that, baby."
You're so pleased with yourself that you barely even catch the new term-of-endearment he's given you.
You look down at him, your hair falling over his face as he looks up at you. "Sorry, that was exciting," you say with a laugh.
One arm firmly holds you up, under you bottom, while the other comes up to cup your cheek. "I like seeing you happy like this. You don't smile nearly enough."
He should really make more of an effort to get you drunk before the two of you leave. He has a feeling you're a happy one, and if he's extra lucky—all the alcohol will go straight between your legs.
You beam at him again, trying to prove him wrong, and all he wants is to kiss you until you can't breathe.
Finally, he lowers you back to your feet and you sit, now excited, as he takes his turn again.
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You skip through the parking lot, your hand in his, completely elated at having won.
And to your knowledge, it was fair and square.
Even if Nate knows otherwise.
He'd offered to buy another game, but you'd told him you were starting to get tired, so he'd agreed to take you home, even if he wanted to stay out with you all night. Preferably in the back seat of his truck with your clothes off and lying underneath him as he explores your soft, sensitive body.
Instead, you sit in the passenger seat, all smiles and giggles as he drives you back home.
He's in enough of a good mood himself that he turns up the radio, some song with thumping bass coming through the speakers, as he rolls the windows down, the warm summer night air blowing your hair.
Nate, now actually nervous—afraid he's about to ruin everything—reaches over, resting his palm over your bare knee.
You don't push it away. Instead, you simply glance at it for a moment, feeling something...something you're not sure how to describe at the sight of him touching you like that, and then lean back, content to leave his hand right where it is.
And so he does. The entire drive back to your place.
It doesn't matter how desperately he wants to, he doesn't move it any higher.
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Once he's pulled into your driveway, he removes his hand, your leg now feeling cold, and kills the engine. You unbuckle yourself and turn toward him. "I know we said it earlier, but I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you, for dinner and bowling and just...today."
He reaches up, running his fingers through your now-tangled hair. "It was my pleasure. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"
You nod, smiling. "I'd like that."
He wants to lean across the console and kiss you, but once again tells himself no. Something he's quickly tiring of having to do.
He glances out the windshield. "I'll walk you to the door."
He retrieves the Nordstrom bag from the backseat before coming around to your side, holding it behind his back as he offers you his hand to help you down.
Nate walks you to your door, watching as you unlock it. He wishes you'd just come back to his house instead, but doesn't dare suggest as much. He'd rather you sleep in his bed with him than stay in this empty house where you're not safe on your own.
Even if he'd made sure you were a couple night this last week when he parked across the street, a couple houses down, pistol in his glovebox. Just incase.
You look up to him with a shy smile. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he replies, handing you the shopping bag.
Your brows furrow. "I thought this was for your mom?"
He shrugs. "I lied. I wanted to buy you something all day, but knew if I asked, you'd tell me no. This way was easier."
You're not sure how to feel about the fact he'd lied to you so easily. Had made—most likely, if the brand-name on the bag is any indication—a rather expensive purchase for you. You're just not sure why.
Before you can bother asking, he plants a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Hope you like it," he says before heading back to his truck.
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Once you're inside and in your room, you immediately start pulling out the contents from the bag and setting them on your bed. Your heartrate only rises with each item. A small bag from Sephora, another one from Tiffany, and four clothing items from Nordstrom—one being the dress he'd asked you to try on.
You feel lightheaded at the price tags on the clothing. But when you look in the Tiffany bag—pull out the jewelry box and open it, you sit down on the edge of your bed.
A diamond necklace.
"Nate..." you whisper to yourself in a panicked voice, wondering what had gotten into him to think that this is ok.
Surely...surely this item is meant for his mom. He'd just accidently thrown it in with everything else.
You pick up your phone with shaking hands, drop it, then pick it back up once again and call him.
"Hey, everything okay? I'm not too far away. I can turn back arou-"
You shake your head, despite the fact he can't see it. "The...the necklace for your mom, you accidentally put it in with-"
"I didn't get it for my mom. Everything there was purchased for you."
You go quiet suddenly, forcing Nate to check that you're even still on the line. He waits for you to respond.
"Nate, I don't know that I feel comfortable with this."
He slams on the brakes, pulling off to the side of the road, throwing the truck in park. "With what?"
"It...it'd be one thing if you'd bought me some cheap keychain or t-shirt or something. But all of this...do I even want to know how much this necklace costs?"
"Probably not," he replies, nonchalantly. Even if he wants to tell you that it was over a grand.
You hang your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. "You don't need to buy me stuff to try and repay me for tutoring you. I do it for free because I like helping people."
"I didn't do it for that."
"Then why?"
How to say, without alarming you: it makes my dick hard spoiling and spending obscene amounts of money on you?
"I just wanted to give you a few nice things. That's all."
"Nate, I don't-"
"Listen, do you want to repay me?"
You go quiet again. Meanwhile, he wants to say, if you say yes: then do it in sexual favors, starting with letting me wrap you hair around my fist as I face-fuck you.
"How?"
"Enjoy it. Wear the white dress and necklace to school on Monday." He wants to throw in the blush, but doesn't, hoping you'll decide to use that all on your own.
You lay back on your bed. "It's all very nice and pretty, and I appreciate it immensely. But-"
"Do you want me to turn around and come get it?" His tone is now the slightest bit annoyed. "If you don't like it, you can tell me. You're not going to hurt my feelings. I'm sorry, I guess I fucked up."
You feel guilty now somehow. Like you're being ungrateful. Even if you hadn't asked for any of it. Maybe...maybe this is what Nate thinks you have to do to make friends: buy their affection?
When you grow up wealthy like he has, you reason, it makes sense.
"No, I'm sorry." Your voice is soft and gentle and feminine now, and he relaxes, his grip on his phone loosening.
You don't even realize it, but his sudden shift in mood had been so imperceptible that it had scared you.
All you do know is that you somehow feel wrong, but you're not sure how, exactly. So, you just brush it off and blame it on being tired. Blame it on anything but him.
"I'm just...I'm not used to people buying me gifts. It's very sweet of you. Thank you," you say as you lightly run your fingers over the soft material of the white dress he wants you to wear in a couple of days.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
You're not sure how to feel about the pet names, either, but don't want to hurt his feelings again, so you ignore your discomfort.
"I'm going to go take a shower and throw my new clothes in the washer. Be safe driving home. Goodnight...again," you say it with a small laugh.
"Goodnight, Y/N."
58 notes · View notes
pennylanefics · 3 days
Text
Skate Day Gone Wrong - Matthew Tkachuk
a/n: this was a cute little idea i had a while ago when i first started getting hockey content on tiktok :) it took me longer than i expected with everything going on, but i think it turned out cute!
warnings: mentions of hospitals, beginning of a panic attack (briefly mentioned, not too descriptive)
summary: matt begs you to go skating with him but it takes a turn for the worst when you end up falling down on the ice
word count: ~4.6k
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“Come on, it’ll be so much fun!” Matthew begs you, grabbing your hands and squeezing them gently. A sigh passes your lips and your eyes fall to your entwined hands, a small grin stretching on your face as you realize he’s been rubbing his thumb back and forth against the back of your hand.
“You know I’m not as graceful, baby. It’ll be a disaster.” He pulls the puppy-dog eyes as soon as you finish your sentence. But it wasn’t going to get by you this time.
Matt was trying to get you to go skating with him at the local ice rink. He wanted, and he deserved, a break from hockey, but he couldn’t stay away from the ice and exercise in some capacity. But since the start of your relationship, you were very clear with him that you were like a newborn deer in ice skates.
“It’ll be a nice little date! I’ll hold onto you the entire time, you never have to let go of my hand, I won’t let you fall, I promise. You have my word,” he holds out his pinky to seal his words. You sigh once more, finally looking up into bright blue eyes, filled with hope and excitement. That alone was enough for you to change your mind.
“Okay,” you finally agree, and within a second, Matt celebrates by tackling you in a hug, your laughter mixing together to fill the otherwise silent bedroom of his.
“Yay!! This is going to be so much fun, I have been wanting to get you on the ice with me for the longest time,” he admits, pressing kisses all over your face, eliciting more giggles from you. 
“I know you have, but I went once when I was younger and couldn’t find my balance, I ended up falling pretty hard. My cousins made fun of me for it and everything, so it’s something I avoided.” Matt coos softly and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear so tenderly.
“Well, I won’t do that, and like I said, I won’t even let you fall. Not gonna happen on my watch, darling.” He kisses you a couple times, his hand remaining on your cheek, sending warmth through your body. 
“I fucking hope. Otherwise you’ll be taking care of me the entire time.” He chuckles quietly and crawls into bed with you, wraping his arms around you instantly, and you instinctively curl into his soft, warm chest.
“Not sure how I’ll be able to with the upcoming road trip we have,” he replies.
“Then you better keep that promise of yours, Chucky.”
The following day, Matthew was up bright and early, preparing breakfast for the both of you and getting everything he needed ready to head to the rink. He planned on just taking his skates and wearing a simple pair of jeans and a black sweatshirt, no gear or anything was needed, really; he wasn’t needing to do any drills or practice anything anyways.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he greets you with a kiss on your forehead and then your cheek. Groaning, you shield your eyes from the blinding sun slicing through the curtains. Matt always loved this time of day, being a morning person, he was able to admire your beauty as you slept, like an angel in his eyes, glowing in the golden, natural light.
“Too early,” you grumble, causing him to laugh softly. To add to the dramatics, you grab the comforter and pull it up over your head, not wanting to leave the comfort and warmth of his bed just yet. One of your favorite places was being in his bed, enveloped in the smell of him, from both his cologne and his body wash. 
“Hey, you agreed to this, we go early and then grab some lunch at your favorite restaurant,” he reminds you, removing the cover from your head. You squint your eyes and stare up at him, finding a sly grin on his face. “Come on, I made your favorite.”
After five more minutes of Matthew playing with your hair and trying to coax you out of bed, you finally get up and head downstairs, where he had everything plated and prepared for you. He made chocolate chip pancakes with turkey bacon, fresh fruit, and scrambled eggs with cheese. You were so glad that Matt loved to cook, otherwise you’d just be having a simple granola bar instead of a nice, cooked meal.
“Alright, I have everything packed and ready to go, so if you want to go get dressed while I put everything away and wash the dishes,” Matt says, taking your empty plate and setting it in the sink with his.
Once you were dressed in a sweater and jeans, all your usual jewelry on, and perfume sprayed a few times, you join your boyfriend in the living room, where he sat scrolling through his phone. Hearing your footsteps, his head pops up and a huge smile spreads across his lips as he jumps to stand.
“Ready?” His hand reaches for yours and you follow him out to his car. While you were getting dressed, he took time to put his duffle bag in the backseat, so you could just get up and go when you were done.
The drive consisted of soft music from your shared playlist, and Matt’s hand in yours, gently stroking the back of it like he did this morning, and like he always does when you two hold hands. It was a rather gloomy February day in Florida, and despite others hating it, you loved it; cloudy weather was so comforting, when it didn’t mean tornadoes and severe weather.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too crowded at the rink, considering it was a weekday at ten in the morning, it was the perfect slot to spend time with Matt and also not make a fool of yourself completely if you were to have an accident.
Once your skates were rented, Matt helped you lace them up, talking you through it all since he could tell your nerves were starting to kick in.
“They have to be laced pretty tight, and figure skating ones are different from mine, but they kinda work the same. So…” his voice tapers off as he finishes tying them, “that should be good. Do they feel alright? Not too tight to the point where you can’t feel your shin?”
His hands take ahold of yours as he helps you stand and walk along the padded area to get a feel for them. He already had such a wide smile on his face because he was so happy that you were finally going to share the space he loved being at the most, aside from being with you, of course.
“Yeah, I think they’re good,” you let him know, heading back over to the bench you were sat on. He finishes tying his own skates, something he has mastered to do quickly at this point in his life, and before you know it, he is walking you over to the entrance to the ice.
Immediately, you freeze, but Matt steps onto the ice like it’s no issue.
“Remember what I promised you, baby?” He raises his eyebrows in concern. Fear was very evident in your eyes, and as much as he wanted you to skate at least one time around with him, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or push you too far. “Hey…it’s gonna be okay. Why don’t you sit down for a little while more?” 
He guides you to a nearby bench and stands behind you, giving your shoulders a small, comforting massage. Leaning down, he kisses your cheek swiftly and then comes around to sit beside you.
“We can sit here for as long as you want until you are ready, if you are,” he reassures you. “We don’t even have to do this today. You coming with me has been enough.”
His sweet sounding voice calms your anxiety almost instantly, something you noticed over the months as your relationship progressed. He always knew the right thing to say, as well as the tone to use in moments where you needed it most.
After a few more minutes of sitting there staring at the ice, you inhale and exhale deeply, turning your head to Matt, who raises his eyebrows in curiosity, his bright eyes filled with concern and worry.
“I’m ready,” you grin, trying to convince him that you’ll be okay. “I just have to do it scared.”
He sighs and shakes his head, reaching for your hands to squeeze them comfortingly.
“Honey, don’t say that. We really don’t have to do this, I can see how scared it’s making you.”
“No, let’s go. I really am ready.” He pauses for a moment just to make sure you are serious, and when you try to stand, he follows you and brings you back over to the entrance of the rink.
He steps onto the ice and holds his hands out for you, his own heart racing with anxiety. He was a pro, but he didn’t know if he’d be the best at assisting, even though he made numerous promises.
“It’ll be okay, honey. Just grab my hand and I’ll keep you balanced.”
With a small step onto the ledge, you step with your other foot onto the ice, your heart pounding in your chest and your body cold from fear.
“It’s alright, darling. That’s it. Now, you want to kick off with one foot and lead with the other. Can you try that?”
Taking his advice, you move as if you’re trying to walk like normal, but obviously that doesn’t work out too well. But he was calm and patient with you.
“No, not quite. Here, hold onto the wall for a moment and I’ll show you.”
Clutching onto the wall like your life depended on it, he takes a moment to skate in front of you very effortlessly, not at all surprising considering skating is like second nature to him.
He comes back around and smiles widely, stopping just a few feet in front of you. You stare at him blankly, as if to say “are you fucking serious?”
“Come on, try it,” he pushes, reaching back out for your hands to coax you from the wall. Bracing yourself, you gently nudge yourself from the wall and follow him, attempting to copy his movements.
“There you go! You so got this,” he beams with pride.
Still, you stumble here and there but his strong grip keeps you standing. Before you know it, you realize that you made an entire lap around the rink. Just to be safe, Matt steps off the ice and wrap you up in a celebratory hug
“You did it! I’m so proud of you, baby!” He plants soft kisses all over your face, eliciting a giggle from you.
“Yeah, yeah. That’s because you were basically pulling me.”
“It was all you, believe me. I was there for guidance only. Wanna go around again?” This time, you nod eagerly and put one foot back on the ice, allowing him to get his footing first before you place your other down.
Just like before, although you were starting to get the hang of it, you stride along as gracefully as you can, following behind your lover, who easily skates backwards, keeping his eyes on you the entire time.
“And you said you were like a newborn deer. You are far from it,” he jokes, speeding up just a little bit. Laughing, you squeeze his hands to silently let him know to slow down some, which he understands and pauses for a moment, slowing you to crash into his chest.
He wraps his arms tightly around you to keep you upright, pressing a single, sweet kiss to your lips, keeping his forehead on yours after.
“I love you,” he whispers, his eyes filled with love and adoration. “And I’m very glad you decided to do this today. I’ve had so much fun and it’s been so nice being able to do this together.”
“I’ve had a lot of fun as well. It’s not as bad as I remember it.”
“Because you’re here with me,” he winks slyly, giggling when you hit him in the shoulder playfully
“You might be right, baby.”
There’s a pause as you both just stand there, holding each other and enjoying the other’s presence. A few people populated the ice, but they stayed near the middle, chatting and taking their time practicing some figure skating tricks. You and Matt were pretty much alone, it felt like in this moment.
“Wanna try skating on your own, hm?” He asks in a hushed voice. “I’ll still be right there with you, just not holding you.”
Thinking over it for a moment, he waits for your answer, and is very surprised when you nod in agreement, his eyes widening in shock and curiosity.
“Wait really??” He had to double check to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
Soon, you were standing in front of him, your legs even with your shoulders, hands still in Matt’s for now.
“Okay, remember, push off and keep your skates close to the ice. Let me know when to let go and I will.”
Taking a deep breath, you look down at the ice beneath your feet and focus hard. He starts staking backwards, building up some speed and momentum for you, whenever you were ready.
“Okay, I think I’m good,” you tell him, slowly releasing the tight grip you have on his hands.
“Nice job, baby! Move that left foot a little smoother!” You try to do as he says, but the farther he gets from you, the more worried you grow. He was still within reach, but only if he happened to slow down.
Suddenly, you feel your balance start to wobble, and your knees shake ever so slightly. You could feel yourself losing your balance as your momentum eases.
“Matt,” you call out, your voice shaking just like your legs.
“You’re doing good, don’t think about it too hard.” He was no help, seeming so far away, too far for your comfort.
But it was too late.
Your foot catches beneath you and slips, and within seconds, you were falling to the ground. Matt’s voice filled your ringing ears, but you couldn’t make out a word he said. All you felt was pain.
“Hey, hey! Look at me,” he cradles your cheek, moving you as gently as ever to sit up from where you fell on your arm.
Wincing, you attempt to scoot a little, but with your right hand cradling your arm against your chest, that proved to be difficult.
“I can’t move my arm,” you tell him, tears beginning to spill over your eyes and down your cheeks. Matt grew more and more concerned as time went by, not knowing how serious of a situation this was just yet.
“Did you land on it? Where does it hurt the most?” Bringing your wrist in front of you, you show him and lightly touch the area, but even that’s too much of a sensation.
“No, no, it hurts so bad,” you cry into his chest. His eyes were wide with fear and pain of his own, knowing that the person he loves the most is hurt, and because of him? That makes it so much worse.
While you continue to cry into his shoulder, Matt waves over the person watching over the rink, making sure that if someone did get hurt they’d be assisted to as soon as possible. And not even a few seconds after Matt signals this, a medic is rushing over, ready to help in any way he can.
“Come on, we’re gonna stand up, alright?” Matt whispers in your ear, trying to remain as calm as he can. He holds your right arm tightly, the medic helping by holding your skates to secure your balance.
It took a bit, but they finally get you standing up, but Matt being Matt, decided to carry you off the ice, even though it was a short length; he wasn’t taking any more risks.
He sits you down on the closest bench and the medic comes over to assess your injury. Matt held your right hand the entire time as a way to comfort you, kissing the back of it every now and then.
“Take deep breaths, baby girl. That’s it,” he whispers, taking some of his own to help ground you and soothe your anxiety.
“You should head to the hospital. It appears to be broken, but I can’t confirm that without an x-ray. You can’t move it, it’s tender to the touch, something is definitely wrong.”
Your heart sinks to your stomach and your eyes drift to Matt. He nods in agreement, lips tightly pressed together, seemingly attempting to keep himself from crying. He thanks the medic, who gathers his things before heading off.
“Let’s go,” he mumbles, beginning to take your skates off for you, and then following with removing his own. He doesn’t say much the entire time, mainly because he doesn’t know what to say. This was his fault, you got hurt on his watch, and he was beating himself up over it silently, but you had an idea of what was going through his mind.
Matt helps you to the car but before he gets into the driver’s seat after shutting your door, he crouches down and takes a few deep breaths, feeling his anxiety rising and the start of an attack; thankfully, it goes away and a minute later, he hops in the driver’s seat and drives off in the direction of the nearest hospital.
A few hours spent there, in the very quiet emergency room that smelled so strongly of cleaning products, it was confirmed that you broke a bone on the outer part of your wrist, as well as a small bone in your thumb joint.
Four hours later, the two of you are walking into Matthew’s home, a light blue cast on your wrist, exhausted and desperately wanting pain medication. Matt drops his duffle bag with his skates on the ground, no intention of putting it away anytime soon.
Not many words are spoken between the two of you, and Matt heads to the bathroom to get you some ibuprofen and water. He returns and finds you curled up on the couch, scrolling through to try and find a movie or show to watch. 
He kisses your forehead and also gets an ice pack for you from the freezer, and once he situates it on your cast, he heads upstairs to his bathroom, taking his time to shower and get dressed in comfy clothes. Realizing you had yet to eat anything but a small bag of chips, he quickly orders your favorite takeout from his phone to be delivered within the next twenty minutes.
Matt felt awful. He didn’t want to go downstairs and face you, this was his fault. He wasn’t able to keep you safe and unharmed, and he was terrified of what you were going to say to him now that you are in the comfort of his home.
But, he knew he had to face the issue and go down there to hold you in his arms, to care for you now that you’ve gotten hurt.
He takes a torn, old shirt of his and a pair of sweats before heading back downstairs. There, he finds you half asleep, watching an episode of Catfish, though he could tell you were barely paying attention.
“How are you feeling?” He finally speaks, coming to sit next to you. Your head lifts up and you smile at him.
“The medicine kicked in a little bit ago so it’s not terrible. I’m just tired.” A sigh passes his lips and he so desperately wants to reach for your hand, but he doesn’t.
“I know, baby. We’re gonna take the rest of the night slow. I ordered some food so you’ll be able to eat. I can help you shower if you want to, all we have to do is wrap a plastic bag around your hand. I’ll take care of everything.”
His voice held so much hurt and regret. Sighing yourself, you grab his hand with your right hand and squeeze it softly, letting him know you are fine.
“Matt, it’ll be okay. I know you’re beating yourself up over this, but I need you to understand that it’s not your fault.”
“It is. I forced you onto the ice when you didn’t want to go.”
“I distinctly remember agreeing to go because I wanted to do that with you, Matthew. I wanted to skate with you, I wanted to try it on my own, and it’s not like you shoved me to the ground or tripped me. I was my clumsy self and lost my footing.”
“But I should have listened to you when you told me you weren’t that good on the ice.”
“I was until I wasn’t. And that’s not your fault.” Matt’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but you brush it off. “Overall, I’m not upset with you, I don’t regret going, and I sure as hell won’t hold this against you. Accidents happen, baby, and that’s okay.”
Matt listens to your words and finally nods. He brings your entwined hands up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to your own.
“I love you,” he whispers, staring down into your eyes. “I love you so much, you have no idea.” Chuckling softly, you lean over and kiss him, finally feeling able to get up and move around a bit.
“I love you too, honey. Always will.”
After devouring the takeout food Matt ordered and icing your cast once more, Matt brings you upstairs, two plastic bags and a couple hair ties in his hands. With ease, he wraps your cast in the bags, securing it with the hair ties. He was tender and sweet as he helped you shower, planting kisses on your cheek or your bare shoulder every now and then, taking matters into his own hands and washing your hair and body for you.
Drying off and making sure you were comfortable in the clothes he picked out, you both head back to the couch and curl up, Matt getting another ice pack for you as the pain meds start to wear off a little. He kept them nearby on the coffee table just in case.
You had picked out a movie to watch just as rain had started falling on the house, a calming sound to ease your mind. Matt had you tucked into his left side, your cast-ridden hand laying on his stomach. The moment you took the ice pack off, Matt brings your hand up to his face and starts kissing your exposed fingers, one by one  on the knuckle.
He then gently rubs his thumb over the cast, his eyes filled with a somber look as he assesses the damage he still feels like he caused. You could tell that’s where his mind was going, so you pull your hand away and reach up to turn his face towards you.
“Hey, stop that,” you whisper, kissing his jaw.
“I feel terrible,” he whispers, his voice cracking as he tries to keep the tears in. You move to sit up and fully cradle his face in your hands.
“Listen to me, baby. I will be okay. A broken wrist will heal, I don’t need surgery to reconstruct anything, just this for six weeks and then a brace. I don’t need physical therapy to learn how to use it again, it will be alright. Things happen. I really don’t want you taking all the blame and the guilt for this when it’s not your fault. Yeah, you got me out on the ice, but it was me who slipped and it was me who tried to catch myself.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t let you go,” he mutters, and you realize that there’s no way of getting through to him. So, you roll your eyes and lay back against his chest.
“Okay, Matthew,” you grumble, not really in the mood to fight or argue if he wasn’t going to listen. This seemed to strike Matt in a way that filled him with regret, because then he was sighing and shaking his head. 
“You’re right,” he whispers. “I’m…I feel terrible about it, but you are right. It wasn’t all on me, I tried my best to help you, but accidents do happen, and I understand that. It was my idea and that’s why it’s affecting me so bad.”
A few stray tears fall down his cheeks but you are quick to wipe them away.
“I understand, honey. But you wanted to share something you love with me, and I wanted to share it with you as well. If it wasn’t you, and it was my friends trying to get me to go, I would have refused. But I know how important hockey is to you and being on the ice in general. I wanted to try this with you. Remember what I said earlier?”
He nods, recalling back to how you reassured him everything was okay between the two of you, and you had no hard feelings for him regarding this.
“I meant every word before, and I still do. I’ll survive, it’s just a little bump in the road.”
Your second talk of the day seemed to have calmed him down much more, and you were thankful for that. So, you settle back down in his arms, his left hand rubbing up and down your back.
“Can I be the first one to sign your cast?” He asks after a little while of comfortable silence, watching the movie. You giggle and look up at him, wondering if he was being serious or not.
“Go get a sharpie,” you move away from him. Within a minute, he returns from his office with a sharpie he uses to sign memorabilia that the team and other companies send him, plopping down beside you. He carefully holds your cast in his hand and searches around for the perfect spot. He ends up writing right below your knuckles, and horizontal on the section on your forearm.
The forearm spot read “i love you - matty” with a little heart beside it, and the spot underneath your knuckles read “i’m sorry :(”. You laugh at his enthusiastic mood before he hands you the sharpie. You draw some random shapes along it in random spots, just to fill it in a little.
“You know everyone on the team is gonna want to sign it,” Matt says, pulling you back into his chest.
“I’m not sure there’s enough room,” you say, examining the amount of space of the medium-sized cast; it covered your fingers all the way up to the second set of knuckles, and ended ¾ of the way to your elbow. Your thumb was separated to keep it structured as well, but it was quiet comfortable. And an easy way for Matt to hold your hand.
“You could always break another bone to give them more room,” he jokes. And this time, it wasn’t a self-deprecating joke about how he was responsible for the break, you could tell just by the tone of his voice, it was light and airy, hinting at the fact he was trying to lighten the mood.
“Maybe I’ll break my leg skiing, then they’ll have a field day.” Matt can’t contain his laughter, his head thrown back and eyes fluttering shut.
“Oh, please don’t let that happen. One cast is enough for now, baby girl.”
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hearts-hunger · 18 hours
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Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Taglist Form
Summary: For Josh, home is where you are. | Standalone in the Cabin Fever universe
Pairings: Josh x Wife! Reader (Josh POV) | Genres: domestic fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 3k | Warnings: a little mention of spice
A/N: I loved Josh's most recent insta caption about the stage being his ethereal living room he gets to share with us, but I also love hurt/comfort, so I made it angsty and fluffy for Josh and Baby. I hope you like it! ♡
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“The stage is your ‘ethereal living room’?”
Josh looked up from the charcuterie board he was meticulously arranging to see you on your phone, presumably scrolling through the concert pictures he’d posted half an hour ago. He smiled.
“Yeah, you know.” He tapped a row of crackers into line until they were perfect. “The shows are a place where people come together to enjoy each other’s company. Somewhere that feels like home.”
You didn’t say anything. He glanced up at you again.
“Ethereal means — ”
“I know what ethereal means, Josh.” Your face went pink. “It’s just not usually a word you use to describe a living room.”
He was a little surprised at your tone; it bordered on sounding upset, but maybe that was just because he’d embarrassed you, though he certainly hadn’t meant to.
“I was just trying to help, baby,” he said gently. He tried for some humor. “And you’re right, it’s not usually a word you’d use to describe a living room. Definitely not our living room in the state it’s been in lately.”
That had the opposite of the intended effect, and he wished he could take it back when your face fell. “You don’t think it’s ready for tonight?”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “It’s ready now. Everything looks great. I just meant that we haven’t been as good about tidying every night, so it’s been a wreck recently.”
“Right,” you said, but it was doubtful and tense. “Well, I tried to get most of it done while you were at work — ”
“I know, baby.” He felt that he’d botched this conversation pretty badly, but you also seemed much more sensitive than you usually were. “It was a huge help, and I’m grateful that you did most of the cleaning when we made the mess together.”
“I didn’t make it quite as ethereal as a concert, though,” you said, and your laugh was a little strained.
He wondered at your fixation on the wording of his caption, but maybe you were trying to make it into a running joke.
“The Kiszkas wouldn’t know what to do with a living room too perfect for this world,” he teased. He set the board on the other side of the island and went hunting for the wine glasses. “Could you grab me the corkscrew, honey?”
You did as he said, but there was a pensiveness to your body language that made him worry. You’d been in a great mood all day, his happy bubbly girl, spending the day shopping and tidying and preparing for the dinner party you were hosting. Jake, Sparrow, Sam, and Danny were due to arrive any time now, and Josh had thoroughly enjoyed spending time with you after work getting your home ready for your family. He didn’t know what had brought on this sudden change in mood, and he racked his brain for what could have caused it and what he could do to fix it.
“Dessert smells really good,” he said sincerely. “Did you end up putting the strawberries in there too?”
You handed him the corkscrew and stood uneasily as he opened the Riesling, toying with the sleeve of your pretty dress.
“No,” you said quietly. “It’s just regular blackberry cobbler. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
A frown tugged at his features. “I don’t,” he said. He popped the cork out.  “Of course I don’t mind. That sounds great, honey.”
“It’s not very exciting,” you said apologetically.
He didn’t know where this was going. Surely you weren’t upset about the dessert you’d made, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what you really were upset about. He decided to stick with his usual strategy, which was mostly just continuing to be sweet to you. 
“I don’t need exciting, baby,” he said, kissing your cheek. “It’ll be perfect. I can’t wait to try it.”
Working together, but without your usual quips and jokes back and forth, you and Josh put the finishing touches on dinner before the doorbell rang. Josh put his dishtowel over his shoulder and went to welcome your guests in, and he was happy that you joined him.
“You look beautiful, baby,” he said. “I love that dress on you.”
You touched a hand to the neckline of your summery black dress patterned with little red cherries. “Oh, well, it’s only a sundress. But... thank you.” The usual enthusiastic enjoyment of his compliments he loved hearing was nowhere in your voice. He wished he could wait to open the door and ask what was bothering you, but the doorbell was now accompanied by rhythmic knocking the type of which only a drummer could deliver. 
“I’m telling you,” Josh said, trying one last-ditch attempt to coax a smile out of you. “This ethereal living room business — it’s better if it’s just our plain old living room with these hooligans.”
The smile you gave him was clearly only for his sake, not even reaching your eyes. Discouraged and unable to stall any longer, he turned the door handle. 
“I didn’t mean to push this on you,” you blurted. Your expression was anxious and regretful. “I’m sorry, Josh.”
By the time he’d processed what you’d said, the door was already open, and your family was coming inside full of laughter and bearing gifts of wine and appetizers and card games to play. He wanted to jump right into the festive atmosphere his brothers and sister-in-law brought with them, but he was completely preoccupied by your blurted-out apology for... what? What could you have to be sorry for? He looked across the foyer and felt his heart twist when he saw your strained smile as you welcomed your family inside.
“Alright, Kiszkas,” he said with more levity than he felt. He ushered everyone into the living room, pointing out the drinks and snacks on the kitchen island. “Eat, drink, and be merry. Dinner’s almost ready.” 
He asked Danny to watch the sauce simmering on the back of the stove, wanting to try and get a moment with you before dinner. He left Sparrow and his brothers chatting and snacking in the kitchen and found you in the dining room, double-checking the place settings you’d already made perfect an hour before.
“Baby,” he said gently. “What did you mean, you’re sorry for ‘pushing this on me’? Did you mean dinner?”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “I should have asked you before I planned it.”
He leaned against the doorframe. “You did ask me. Didn’t you?”
“I don’t think so,” you said sheepishly. “I think I just told you I was doing it, and you went along with it.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t mind,” he said sincerely. “I’m glad you planned it.” He debated giving you space or pressing a little deeper, and he risked the latter. He came around the table to the side where you stood.
“I’m glad we’re all spending time together,” he said. He took your hands in his. “I’d like to enjoy it with you, too, but I wouldn't be happy if you were unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy,” you lied.
“Baby,” he chided tenderly. “You’ve been out of sorts for a little bit now, and I want to help you get back into sorts. I just don’t know how.”
You looked up at him. “Are you sure you’re happy with... all this?”
He raised a brow. “Dinner? Or, like, the universe as a whole?”
You sighed. “No, I mean... do you like being home? Maybe it’s a little lackluster after touring.”
“That could not be farther from the truth,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation. Was that all that was bothering you? 
“Silly girl,” he said with a smile. “Of course I like being home. I love being home.”
“But it’s... it’s just... me,” you said lamely. “Just our house.”
“I’m still not seeing a problem,” he said, affectionately teasing. “I love you, and I love our house, especially when it has all the people we love in it drinking all our wine.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment. Then — “Are you sure?”
For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He felt a surprisingly sharp flash of hurt at your doubt. He tamped it down to focus on you, his sweet wife, who apparently felt that his homecoming had been spent wishing he was back out on the road.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he finally said. He cupped your face in his hands, reading something sad and needful in your expression but unable to figure out how to fix it. “I love being home with you, baby. I miss you so much when I’m away. You don’t know that?”
He saw your eyes sparkle with tears and wished desperately he could understand how it had gotten this bad, wished he could figure out how to fix it.
“Hey,” he said softly. He kissed you. “I love you. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“But it’s not — ”
“It’s perfect,” he said, gently cutting across your protest. “And though I love the way you open our home to our family, even just being with you, eating takeout in our pajamas, would have been perfect too.”
You gave him a watery smile at that, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“There’s that smile,” he said tenderly. He brushed the tears from your face. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, baby. You're everything to me. You’re my heart. You know that, don’t you?”
You nodded and kissed him, and he was so happy to have helped even a little. He’d probably ask about it again, try to understand what had made you think such a thing so that you'd never have to think it again. For now, though, your family was waiting, and you seemed eager now to get back to them.
“Don't tell them I was crying,” you said, running your hands over your cheeks, trying to hide the telltale signs. “Tell them we were having a quickie or something.”
He chuckled. “I'm not sure I’m skilled enough for that to be believable, baby. Less than five minutes is a lot to ask.” He kissed your cheek. “And I won’t tell them you were crying. That’s between you and me.” To his way of thinking, a husband's job was to protect his wife at her most vulnerable, not to expose her. These moments between you, the words and soft touches and intimacy you shared — those were just for the two of you, and Josh treasured the privilege of being the one you shared yourself with when you needed a little extra love.
You took his hand, and when he was sure you were ready, he led you back out to where your family waited. 
He saw you return to your usual self as the night went on, and he loved to hear your laugh and watch your smile light up your face as you spent time with your family. Sam, Danny, Jake, and Sparrow — they never failed to bring warmth and light with them wherever they went, and Josh knew that there was no better medicine than their terrible jokes and affectionate bickering and safe, easy love. You were always beautiful, but joy made you ravishing; you shone as brightly as the sun when you were happy, and he felt a weight come off his shoulders as you came back to yourself.
After dinner, you found a spot on the couch; as Josh went to fix glasses of wine for both of you, he watched the drama unfolding in the living room. Catty corner to you, Sam and Jake were playing guitar, Sam casually and Jake with characteristic seriousness; Sparrow sat perched on the arm of Sam’s chair, and Danny sat on the floor.
“Watch him,” Danny said, slipping a hair tie from his wrist and aiming it like a slingshot at Jake. “I bet he won’t stop playing.”
“No, Danny!” Sparrow giggled around the straw stuck in her wine glass. “That would be so mean to my poor Jakey.”
“He wont’ even notice,” Danny said, unable to hide an impish smile. “Watch.”
He shot the hair tie at Jake, and it popped him on the forehead before tumbling down the guitar and landing on the floor. Jake didn’t miss a beat.
Danny and Sparrow dissolved in uproarious laughter, and Jake merely rolled his eyes with a telltale smile.
“You’re all idiots,” he said.
“Not me!” Sam protested. He watched Jake’s fingers, invested in learning the tune now. “I’m trying to play with you, but geez, can you dial it down from rock god so I can figure it out?”
Jake slowed his playing, talking Sam through the notes, and good-naturedly accepted a kiss on his forehead from Sparrow. Danny tried to find the hair tie again and hit Sam with it when he did, earning himself a nudge with Sam’s foot that made Danny laugh and lean his head against Sam’s knee in apology.
Josh brought your drinks over to the couch and handed yours to you. “For you, baby.”
You accepted it gratefully and patted the spot next to you. “Thanks, honey. Come sit with me.”
He did, draping one arm over the back of the couch behind you, pleased when you scooched closer to him. He gave you a sweet, chaste kiss.
“Feeling better, baby?” he asked gently.
You couldn’t help a dull blush, but you gave him a bashful smile. “Yes. I’m sorry I was so... tearful earlier.”
“That’s alright, honey. Would you mind telling me what it was that got you so upset?”
You ran the pad of your thumb over the bottom of your wineglass. He was patient as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.
“It’s silly,” you said finally. “You’ll either laugh or be annoyed that I made such a big deal about it.”
He considered that. You usually took things in your stride, and neither of you made a habit of being offended or upset over trivial, accidental things. Whatever it was, it had hurt you, and he would validate that feeling no matter what it turned out to be.
“I promise I won’t laugh,” he said. “And I don't think I’ll be annoyed.” He really just wanted to know what it was, and he told you so.
Your nervous, wandering fingers found his, and he was content to let you play with his wedding ring. You brushed your thumb over the shiny gold surface.
“It was your caption,” you said. “You know, for those pictures you posted.”
He was bemused for a moment. “Oh. Really?”
“Yeah,” you admitted quietly. “There’s no greater feeling in the world than returning to the stage. It is my ethereal living room. A place where things feel lighter than air. I love you.”
If anyone had asked him to recite from memory the caption he’d written himself, he couldn't have done it. The fact that you knew it word for word told him you must have been saying it over and over again in your head since you’d read it.
He thought of the wording in light of your feelings and saw how it could have hurt you. It had been their first show back after a long break spent at home, and while you were in your plain old living room at home and missing him, he’d apparently been away in a much better living room doing much more exciting and wonderful things without you. Of course he hadn’t really been comparing a concert to the home he shared with you — it was only an Instagram caption, after all, and not a serious commentary on his life. But even though he felt it was reasonable for you to have known that, he also knew that sometimes the heart wasn’t reasonable.
He twined his fingers with yours. “Sweet baby,” he said. “I’m sorry it hurt you. It wasn’t my intention at all. I don’t know if it helps, but I wasn’t thinking about our real life living room when I wrote that. I just thought it sounded clever.”
“I know,” you said. You gave him a wobbly smile. “It was clever. It’s sweet. And the fans deserve a little love note from you. I just...”
“You just missed me,” he said, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “I know, baby. I missed you too.”
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of it. I could have just been honest that I was upset. But really, I should have just taken it like you meant it and not started catastrophizing, thinking you weren’t happy at home.”
“Well, sometimes our imaginations run away with us,” he said, patient and kind. “For the record, I am happy at home with you, baby. You in your old sundress making regular blackberry cobbler is the kind of thing I dream about when I'm away from you. And if I could only have one, I’d pick our less-than-ethereal living room and be glad to share it with you for as long as I lived.”
You touched his cheek. “Why are you so sweet to me?”
“Because I love you very much,” he said simply. He kissed you. “Tell me you know that.”
“I know that,” you said softly, tenderly. “Of course I know that. I love you very much too.”
He kissed you again, taking his time, drawing you closer to him. You tasted like sweet wine and sounded so pretty when your breath caught, your fingers brushing through his curls, your heartbeat light and fast under his hands, almost ethereal.
From the other side of the living room, there was a vague commotion and contagious laughter from Sparrow and his brothers. 
“Should we check on them?” you asked, your voice muffled and smiley as you kissed him.
He chuckled. “They’re fine. Hush and let me kiss you.”
You did, and when you threw your arms around his neck to pull him even closer, he decided you weren’t ethereal after all. The two of you together, surrounded by the ones you loved, laughter and joy and music filling your home — it was something better than ethereal, something earthy and imperfect and steady. For all he loved his work, this right here was exactly what he wanted.
“I love you, Mrs. Kiszka,” he said gently.
You smiled and set everything right in his world. “I love you too, Joshy.”
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@wideminded-dreamer and @spark-my-nature were particularly excited for this one so hey here you go <3
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okay so we know that if reader tried to be creepy towards yves about sexual stuff he would cut them off (and/or traumatize them if they went even further).
but what would happen if yves set up their perfect meet-cute, they started dating, and after a while reader tried to initiate sex. and yves is like oh, no. explains his whole thing about only doing it like once a month, and on his terms. and reader is like oh, okay! i totally respect that!
and then the next day, they sit down for dinner, and reader essentially tries to break up with him? basically just saying i don’t think this will work out between us, i’d really like a partner who i have very regular sex with even if not every day, but you’re really cool and really nice and i’d love to stay friends :)
how would yves react? i feel like he wouldn’t traumatize them because they didn’t actually do anything wrong, but he’s also been super clear about being monogamous so he doesn’t seem like the type to allow reader to pursue a sort of fwb relationship on the side? that is, if reader even wanted to have a side relationship just for sex, they might only want one relationship and need it to be both romantic and regularly sexual.
another thought that’s sort of tied to this: what if yves was dating a reader who, because they couldn’t successfully initiate sex and were told not to try ever again the one time they tried, and because yves so rarely initiates sex, started feeling really self conscious and like they aren’t worth having sex with? like even with yves being such a sweetheart and loving on them all the time, the lack of sex really gets to them and makes them feel undesirable?
sincerely, a very shy anon (who is Constantly Horny and also gets insecure)
Tw: sexual stuff, drugging
The thing is, Yves would have already known that you're seeking for a more sexually fulfilling relationship with someone. It depends on your personality, is it a must that you have to touch him in ways he wished you wouldn't? Is it a must for Yves to touch you in ways he rather not? Even with his 'interventions'? Then, Yves has no choice but to let go of the idea of being your romantic partner. It doesn't mean he will abandon you, he will assume the role of a smothering monster-in-law.
However, if he already knows the ins and outs of your body, the limits of how much he could drug you without any adverse effects, Yves wouldn't mention about sex at all. He would take it slow, letting the relationship progress until you're comfortable to discuss such proclivities or attempt to make the first move. The longer you're with Yves, the more you feel loved and spoiled by his riches and acts of services.
But... By the time you would usually feel undesirable due to a lack of sexual initiation from Yves, you would find yourself saying "yuck" to anything related to genitalia. Perhaps even feeling glad that Yves didn't see you in that light yet, dreading the day where you have to say no to him.
Hell, maybe you wouldn't even care to initiate it either, you somehow lost interest in something you used to crave badly and you don't know why. The idea of it feels... Dull, boring and maybe overbearing, it's like eating the same meal repeatedly to the point it makes you nauseous thinking about it. The thought of being horny and getting off your bed to work for that orgasm makes you go "Ugh, do I have to?"
Assuming that you masturbate to alleviate your frustrations, you suddenly find that your stimulating toys would just not do it for you anymore. Neither would your fingers, nor pornography. You just feel... Nothing. No tingles, no drive and no desire to chase that high you were once addicted to. It feels tedious as if you're doing a soul sucking chore, you would rather cuddle with Yves instead, fully clothed too with each other's hands away from the major erogenous zones.
You wouldn't notice it. The change would be so gradual that you wouldn't realize your favorite sex toy is collecting a layer of dust under your bed. The idea of Yves going anywhere near your crotch never crossed your mind, why would it? You're not interested in doing the tango with him and neither is he, and you would like to keep it that way in order to avoid the awkwardness of rejection.
You never visited your favourite erotic sites anymore and you're not yearning for that excitement, you have lost a core part of yourself and you are none the wiser.
And that's how Yves likes it; to let yourself be pampered by him in every way except one. What you don't know will never hurt you.
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