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#i'm okay. or i will be. even if everything goes wrong i'll be okay
franeridan · 7 months
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"luffy has never been wrong once in his whole life ever, actually" -me, a person who's perfectly aware luffy has consistently been completely wrong more often than he's ever been even just partly right
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seventh-district · 8 months
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oh nice! the Matt fic posted itself at the correct time
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matchingbatbites · 2 months
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Happy Valentine's, all. <3
Eddie doesn't want to be making this call. Literally the last thing he wants to be doing is making this specific phone call, but he'll be damned if he lets his asshole of a roommate get away with this.
After a moment the ringing stops, and a voice says "Hello?"
"Uh, hi, is this Steve?"
"It is, who is this?"
"It's Eddie, Jake's roommate? I got your number from him." Well, from his phone when he'd left it unattended one day, but Steve doesn't need to know the details. "I really, really hate to be making this call, especially the day before Valentine's, but uh. Jake is cheating on you."
The line is silent for a moment before he hears a weak "What?"
Eddie's eyes squeeze shut at the heartbreak he can hear in that single word. He hates that he's doing this, but knows it needs to be done, for Steve's sake.
"I got home from work not too long ago, and heard him with some girl in his room. I took a video, if you want proof, but I just- I thought you deserved to know."
There's a bit of shuffling on Steve's end, along with a soft sniffle. "I, uh. I don't need the video. I believe you. I'm not all that surprised, if I'm honest."
He huffs a laugh, the sound so self-deprecating that it makes Eddie's stomach twist in empathy. "Guess that makes me three-for-three on my long-term partners cheating. I'm starting to wonder what the fuck is wrong with me."
That last part is softer, like Steve was speaking to himself, but Eddie hears it and frowns, because- because Steve is lovely. He can tell that Steve is beautiful inside and out, always kind with just enough sass to make him so fun to be around.
He's always makes sure to talk to Eddie every time he comes over, even if it's just a simple greeting or goodbye, and whenever he cooks at their apartment - because he's a great cook - he always makes enough for Eddie to have some as well.
It feels wrong to hear Steve talk like this, like there's something about him that needs to be fixed. Like his previous partners were right to abuse his love and trust, instead of treating them like the treasures Eddie knows they are.
Before Eddie can speak out to reassure him, the man continues. "Thank you for telling me Eddie. Spending Valentine's alone is gonna suck, but I guess that's better than spending it with someone who doesn't care about me."
"Spend it with me."
Eddie isn't sure where the request comes from, but as soon as it leaves his mouth, it's all he wants.
Steve gives a soft "Huh?" and Eddie repeats it, "Spend it with me. A boy as pretty as you shouldn't be cooped up inside on a day like Valentine's. Let me take you out, try to salvage it for you at least a little."
Steve goes quiet, and for a solid ten seconds, Eddie is sure that he's about to be rejected.
And then Steve says "Jake was supposed to pick me up at 6:30 tomorrow. I'll come by yours at six instead, so I can break up with him before we leave. Is that okay?"
A sigh of relief, and Eddie slumps into the wall behind him. "Sounds perfect, Stevie. Wear something nice, but casual, okay?"
"I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie. And thanks again."
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Jake comes across Eddie the next evening as he's packing the last of the food into a bag. He's spent the last hour or so getting it ready, making sure it's all perfect even though it's nothing too complicated.
A meat and cheese plate with some fancy crackers, a jar of the pickled asparagus he's recently become addicted to, a bowl of diced fruit and a box of fancy chocolates he'd splurged on.
He'd even dropped money on a bouquet of roses, and he already has a few comfy blankets and pillows packed into the back of the van. Everything perfect and ready to go. When Jake sees his preparations, he lets out a low whistle.
"Wow, Eddie. Trying to impress someone?"
Eddie shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Yep. It's our first date, so I want it to be special. Didn't wanna go the usual, boring, fancy restaurant route."
He's sure that's what Jake had planned for himself and Steve, and it's confirmed by the way his nose wrinkles. "There's nothing wrong with spending money on your date, Eddie. If you have the money to spend, that is."
Jesus Christ, Eddie can't wait to move out of this fucking place, and away from this fucking asswipe.
"Anyway, I've gotta go pick up Steve soon, and I'm planning on bringing him back here tonight, so maybe see if you can crash with your date, yeah?"
"Sure thing-" Eddie replies, though he's interrupted by the sound of a knock ringing through the apartment. He grins wide, knowing exactly who it is. "That must be my date. Can you grab that while I finish up here?"
Jake rolls his eyes but complies, and Eddie freezes in place, not daring to make a sound so he can hear whatever interaction is about to happen.
The door opens, and he hears Jake's confused "Steve? What are you doing here? I'm supposed to be-"
"Yeah, we're not doing anything anymore. Ever again, actually."
God, Steve sounds so bitchy, and Eddie fucking loves it. He grabs the bag of food and the bouquet of roses from the counter, glad that he got dressed beforehand, and makes his way to the entry.
"What are you saying, Steve?"
"I'm saying that we're over, Jake. Maybe you can call the girl you fucked last night and take her to dinner instead."
Eddie turns the corner in time to see Jake's stunned expression, clearly not expecting Steve to throw that at him. He takes a moment to bask in the fire burning behind hazel eyes, until they slide to him and that fire vanishes, replaced with something sparkling and delighted.
"Hi, Eddie," Steve says, his demeanor changing like the flip of a switch, and Eddie beams. He steps closer and offers the bouquet of roses, along with a "Happy Valentine's, Stevie."
The money Eddie spent on the flowers was worth it to see the blush that floods Steve's face as he reaches out to take them.
"Oh, thank you. That's really sweet of you."
"What the fuck is happening right now?"
Eddie and Steve both turn to look at a very petulant and confused Jake, and Steve just smiles. "Well, you just got dumped, and my Valentine is about to take me on a date."
It takes a moment, but something must finally click, because Jake's face goes red with rage. Eddie just grabs Steve's arm, guiding him out of the apartment before the man can actually do something.
"So what's the plan?" Steve asks as he takes Eddie's hand, lacing their fingers together as Eddie leads him to his van.
"Well, uh. The next town over still has a drive in theater, and they're showing some old romance movies tonight. The drive to get there is pretty nice, and we'll actually have some time to talk, and then- I have some blankets and pillows in the back of the van, and I brought food so we can do a picnic during the movies. I mean, if- if that sounds good to you."
Steve's eyes are sparkling again as Eddie rambles, and he squeezes their hands in delight. "That sounds perfect, Eds."
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By the time Eddie gets home late that night, he's learned two things:
The first is that Steve had already been debating on breaking up with Jake before this whole fiasco, but the thing stopping him was that he actually likes being around Eddie, and he thought wanting to hang out with his ex-boyfriend's roommate would be too weird.
The second thing Eddie's learned is that Steve's smile tastes like dark chocolate and sunshine, and kissing him might just be Eddie's new favorite hobby.
(Eddie does eventually show the video to Steve, just to reassure him that he didn't break them up so Eddie could date him instead. The only comment Steve makes is "She's definitely faking, his dick game isn't that good.")
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weird-is-life · 24 days
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pregnant reader and Spencer fic where he makes her cry on accident 😭😭
Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, kisses, like one swear word, reader cries (not because of something bad tho, it's cute), use of pet names (0.6k)
Spencer is running late at least later than he'd told you he would be and he can't stress it more. You've been home alone almost the whole day, and Spencer knows you are probably more than lonely.
But even if he's already late Spencer makes one more stop to get some groceries before heading home to you.
When he finally arrives home, he can't stop apologising as you greet him by the door, the baby bump very visible underneath one of his sweaters.
"Hi sweetheart, I'm so sorry I'm late there was a problem we needed to deal with," Spencer apologises and kisses your cheek.
"It's okay, Spence," you say into his shirt, already hugging him tightly, "I missed you a lot though."
Spencer looks at you like he always does with a too loving smile, "I missed you two, too."
Spencer ushers you towards the couch, he doesn't want you to be standing for too long 'cause he knows your feet would hurt, and also because he intends to cuddle you as much as possible there.
He quickly unpacks the groceries, and remembers the snacks he's bought for you. What he doesn't know is that you've been craving exactly the same snack he's bought the entire day.
"Here I got you these sweetheart," Spencer gives the snacks to you and rushes to the bedroom to change into something much more comfortable than the suit.
You stay still, your eyes filling up with tears as you hold the snacks in your hands.
When he comes back to you, he finds you eating the snacks while the tears run down by your cheeks.
"Woah, woah, woah, what's wrong?" Spencer immediately sits next to you, and starts to wipe the tears away.
"I just....-" you start with small hiccup, "I just love you so much."
A warm chuckle escapes Spencer's mouth, before he's back to comforting you. He's read every single book there's on pregnancy, so he knows how tough it is with the changes of hormones.
"Oh, baby, I love you too is that why you're crying, huh? Or is it something else? Maybe me being late?" He really hope it isn't the latter.
"N-no, I just-... I just really wanted these snacks all day, Spence," you tell him as another set of tears escapes from your eyes, "a-and they are too good."
"Oh sweetheart, if I knew you wanted them so badly i would have bought more," Spencer tells you with a sympathetic smile.
He understands it can be a lot for you from time to time, even if it's something as simple as craving some snack, so he let's you eat your snacks while he wipes away the tears. He does that until the snacks are gone along with the tears.
You look just unhappy about finishing the snacks as you did minutes ago eating them. You give him a puppy eyes, and Spencer is up on his legs before you can even say his name.
"Spencer...?"
"Don't worry, lovely. I got it, I'll buy you more than enough," Spencer quickly gives you a kiss, and goes to put on his shoes, car keys already in his hand.
"Spence?"
"Yes?" he looks back at you so fucking lovingly completely unbothered about the fact that he has to go to the shop again that you think you might start crying again (Spencer loves you so much that it happens a lot, you crying about how much you love him).
"Of course, but only if you really want to. I don't mind going alone."
"I want to," you say enthusiasticly. That is all Spencer needs to take your shoes, and go back to you. He puts the shoes on for you, kisses your bump, and helps you get up.
"C'mon, sweetheart. I'll get you anything you want if you tell me about your day, " Spencer happily listens to you chatter about everything that crossed your mind through the day.
You and Spencer leave the shop with way too many snacks, but it's okay because you're happy as one can be and that's all Spencer needs, okay maybe the cuddles too.
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yoichiris · 1 year
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better than letting go | nagi seishiro x reader
✩ accidental sugar daddy nagi ✩ pro-player!nagi, roommates au, angst to fluff, heavy pining, miscommunication
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"just go live with nagi," reo says offhandedly, "if you clean up after him, he'll let you stay there forever."
you open your mouth to refute the suggestion, because reo knows how you feel about nagi, knows you couldn't possibly stay in an enclosed space with him hours on day on end without jumping him... but before you do, nagi himself interrupts.
"i'm okay with that," he replies in his usual laid-back voice.
you glare at him because you think he sounds more excited about the cleaning part.
"you're going to be homeless," reo shrugs, "why not?"
you return your glare at reo, "why can't you just house me in one of your billion-dollar properties."
"then i'd have to ask my old man for permission," he waves you off like the asshole he is, "no thanks."
"what's wrong with living with me?" nagi wonders, and you hate him for acting like he wants to live with you so badly.
"look, just clean nagi's dirty underwear for the next year while you finish your degree and you won't have to worry about a thing," reo explains, as if there aren't other factors like your five-year infatuation with nagi, and maybe the fact that nagi lives like he doesn't know what a vacuum does.
you sigh, thinking about the end of your lease and the astronomical increase in rent incoming, and how much you don't want to work your stupid part-time job, and give in.
of course it's not that bad. all you had to do was keep your feelings to yourself.
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"nagi," you hiss, "nagi, wake up, you're going to be late!"
he only stirs, covers tucked under his chin, as if he's hiding from you. you inch the door wider, stepping into his room hesitantly. he doesn't even make a move.
"nagi," you whine, crouching at the side of his bed.
he makes a sound of acknowledgment but keeps his eyes closed, so you sit cross-legged on the floor, watching his sleeping form. he's so cute like this, you think, yearning.
it's been a week since you moved in with nagi. in a lot of ways, he's exactly what you thought he would be like in private: he's rarely home, and when he is, he's quiet.
you thought he would spend more time in his room, under the covers, but you realize quickly he's furnished his couch with the coziest throw and likes to curl under there when he is home.
it makes your heart warm when you come home to see nagi, his toes sticking out from underneath the blanket, waiting for you to eat dinner.
"...what time is it?" you hear him mumble.
your heart skips a beat when he opens his eyes, groggy with sleep, and touches your arm. you sigh shakily.
"too late," you smile softly at him, "i'll prep your pre-workout so you can take it with you, okay?"
"thanks," he tells you, his voice raspy.
he smiles back at you and reaches out, poking you in the forehead. when you feel his fingers touch your skin, you think you'll drop dead right there.
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"are you gonna move out after you graduate?" reo asks, nine months into your arrangement.
you've been avoiding even thinking about it. you're busy with graduation, you justify to yourself, you don't have time to look for a new place yet.
"hm?" you hum innocently, "i dunno. haven't had time to think about it."
"nagi asked me 'bout it," he mentions casually, and you freeze. is he counting the days down until you leave?
you and nagi have settled into a daily routine: you wake him up, he goes to practice, you study after class, and when he comes back late at night, he hangs out with you for an hour before he has to sleep. mostly, you and nagi sit on either end of the couch, sharing the cozy throw, and read manga.
it's lulled you into a false sense of security, you think.
"oh," is all you manage to say. maybe he finds you bothersome? maybe he wants his own space back?
reo hits you over the head, lightly. "what's that face for? it's been going good living with nagi, right?"
and it was. it was everything you had dreamed of, and it shocked you how well you got along with nagi. you think of how, in early mornings when both of you (mostly you) are rushing out the door, bumping hips in the kitchen, even then it seems like you were working together.
"yep," you reply, sipping your iced coffee, "too good."
reo takes a bite of his food, and suggests, "maybe you two should just keep living together. you can split rent or something."
"can't rely on nagi forever," you protest.
"why not?" he says, just like he did when he had first suggested this whole thing, "isn't that what you want?"
you kick him under the table, angry that he was bringing your feelings up now. yes, you want to scream, it is. but nothing has changed between you and nagi, nothing at all.
you're always trying to keep your feelings in check: when he peers over your shoulder as you're cooking, the warmth of his body hot asgainst yours. or how adorable he looks when he comes out of the shower, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes, his face shiny. those are the times your feelings want to burst.
"just talk to nagi about it," reo nudges. you're not sure if he's talking about the housing or the feelings.
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you're curled up with nagi on the couch when you muster the courage to say anything. your legs are touching his under the blanket, and you feel as if that might connect you to him.
there's a month left until you graduate, which is absolutely not enough time for you to find a place to live, but you were scared. you hear the victory sounds of nagi's mobile game, so you decide now's better than never.
"so," you start, and his gaze drifts over to you, "i haven't really found a new place to live yet."
it's quiet. "s'okay," nagi mumbles, not even looking up from his phone, "you can move out whenever."
well, at least that answers your question on whether or not he wants you to move out. at least he wasn't pushing you out the door, you tell yourself.
you don't know what else to say. do you want me to leave so badly? you want to ask. can't i stay with you? you think, desperate. but those words don't leave your mouth.
"are you coming to my graduation?" you ask lightly, and regret it when you realize that you've opened yourself up again.
he shrugs. "dunno my prac schedule yet, but reo's going right?" he replies, as if reo could replace him.
you feel cold despite the blanket, and sink deeper into the couch, feeling drained. from the corner of your eye, you see nagi tapping away at his phone, signaling to you that he's still deep in his game. you take your legs away, knowing he wouldn't even notice.
"yep," you say and awkwardly crawl out of your warm spot on the couch. "i'm gonna go to bed first, nagi."
"g'night," he replies, finally looking up as you pass him with your head bowed. he watches you walk back to your room, and doesn't take his eyes off of you until you close the door behind you.
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you eventually begged reo to find you an empty unit in one of his father's rental properties.
he had been insistent you just talk to nagi, as if he knew something you didn't, but you had to explain that you did, and nagi had no objections to you moving out, and you weren't going to wait until he shoved you out the door to move on.
it has been so awkward since that small conversation you'd had with nagi. maybe it was you, feeling out of place, like you had reached a point of no return.
waking him up in the mornings were now rushed, gently pushing him awake and scurrying off before he was fully awake. leaving his pre-workout on the counter instead of handing it to him. sitting at the kitchen table under the guise of studying instead of curling up on the couch with him.
it's not that he'd changed, you knew, it's that you couldn't keep playing pretend with your feelings anymore.
you hear the front door click as nagi walks into the apartment.
"hey," he says, pushing open the door to your room, "i'm home."
you turn from your position at the front of your closet, where you were just about to take out your suitcase. "oh, hey," you reply lamely, "welcome home."
he hovers, something he's never really done, as if he knows you have something to say, as if he had something to say. the words were stuck in your throat.
"reo told me you're moving out," nagi finally tells you.
traitor, you curse at reo. "uh, yeah," you smile tightly, "i didn't want to keep bothering you, so..."
"you're not bothering me," he replies, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't notice.
there's another silence. what else can you say?
"you don't have to leave," nagi continues, "i don't mind if you stay here."
but do you want me to stay? you want to ask. the way he says it so casually, as if it didn't matter whether you stayed or not, only solidified your decision to be away from him. at least then you could just be his friend without delusions of sharing a life with him so intimately.
"nah," you try to keep your voice steady, "it's probably better this way."
"i like living with you, though," nagi shuffles his hair uncomfortably as he says it.
you laugh, maybe a little bitterly, "because i cook and clean for you?"
"no," he says quickly, looking flustered, "no, i just like it when you're here."
but why? you want to scream. your heart pounds, because you feel like you're close to something, but at the same time it feels so far. sometimes you're convinced that he knows about your feelings, that sometimes you two are talking about them even though the topic is unrelated.
"it was nice," you settle on saying, as if it wasn't life changing, "but i can afford living on my own now."
"i don't want you to leave," nagi almost sounds like he's whining, and your heart skips another beat.
"why not?" you say, frustrated, breathless, "we can't just keep living together forever."
"what if i want to?" he says, and you feel like the conversation has become out of control.
your mind is racing. what is happening right now, you try to breathe through your nose. what is he talking about right now, you try to ask yourself.
"nagi—" you stop yourself, trying to get a grip, "what are you saying?"
you're looking at him now and you're surprised by the determination in his eyes. it's what he looks like when he's really focused, like he is when he plays soccer.
"i want to live with you forever," he declares, sounding defiant, as if that wasn't what you wanted.
but you're not sure what it means. you only know that five years is a long time to be holding onto your feelings.
"i don't understand," you mumble, staring at the floor, quieter than before, "i love you, nagi. not as a friend. so no, i can't just live with you forever."
you feel him before you see him, his body towering over you. when you look up, he's pouting. he puts his hand on top of your head, gentle, warm.
"why do you look so sad," he wonders, as if he hadn't heard what you just said, "that's why i want to live with you forever, dummy."
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you wake up to nagi wrapped around you.
"sei," you groan, turning in his arms to look at his sleeping face, "you're heavy."
he mutters, groggy, incoherent, and you can't help but press a kiss to his nose. his hair is falling all over his face, but your eyes memorize every slope. he squeezes you harder.
"why are you awake so early," he mutters, nudging your chest with his head, "it's my day off."
you soothe your hand down his bare back, feeling the tight muscles underneath your fingers. he works so hard, and his days off are so rare. you wiggle some more, to loosen his arms.
"i know," you smile, "but let me go make breakfast, kay? i'm hungry."
he shakes his head and whines. "no," he refuses, "just go back to sleep."
you relax, unable to tell him no. mornings with nagi often go like this, except that you usually have enough self-control to get him up. but sometimes, you remember what it was like wanting him so bad, that now you remind yourself to enjoy it.
as a partner, nagi is clingy, vulnerable. but he's also determined, and sometimes, the intensity with which he wants you catches you off guard.
"y/n," he calls, his breath hot against your neck, "i'm happy you're here."
you close your eyes, nodding. "me, too."
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WIBTA if I tell a couple I'm a mistress for both of them?
this is a long one and a very weird situation but here we go. I (28F) have been seeing two people recently. I've been seeing C (30F) for a little over 5 months and M (29M) for almost 6 months. both relationships are currently in a state of non-commitment, even though I've expressed feelings in both relationships and theyve been reciprocated, but I'm naturally not a super commitment-focused person and both of the people I'm seeing have respected that a lot, so yeah.
anyways, both relationships have been great and I'm incredibly happy w them, and since neither are committed to me I've kind of just assumed that both C and M were likely seeing other people as well even if we haven't talked about it.
WELL. about a week ago C came over to my place to spend the night, which she does like once a week or every other week. she goes to take a shower and I start gathering laundry and grab her stuff to throw in with mine and take her phone out of her jeans. I glance at the screen and see a few texts from a contact called "my love <3"
I was kinda surprised by this because while not talking to me about casual relationships is not something I would care about, the contact name made me think she had a more serious relationship going on, which I don't mind but would like to be informed about.
soooo okay I did an admittedly asshole thing and read the text. and then read a few more. and it became apparent that this was a REALLY committed relationship. like, I love yous, I'll be back home soon, please remember to grab so and so from the grocery store, stuff like that.
the contact picture looked kind of familiar too so I clicked on it to see better and it ended up being a picture of M.
I kind of flipped at this bc this is kind of a ridiculous situation, and I left my apartment for some air. I came back like 30 minutes later and C was waiting for me and confused where I'd been (she didn't see/hear me leave since she was still in the shower).
I apologized to her for looking at her phone but told her that I saw the texts from her partner, and that I was feeling kind of hurt that she hadn't told me that she had a more serious relationship going on, since she knows I value transparency. I specifically did not mention that I was also dating M or knew who he was because I felt I needed to scope out the situation more.
she ended up breaking down in tears and spilled everything. told me that M is her husband, that he doesn't know she's been seeing me, that shes felt so conflicted and guilty because she loves him but has really grown to love me too, that she feels wrong and dirty for keeping everything secret. I'm upset that I've been made into a mistress without knowing, but I try to talk to her about everything, we end up staying up super late talking and crying and pouring our hearts out. I still don't mention that I'm dating M too because I feel like I need to talk to him about this before any big decisions are made on my part.
I ended up inviting M to stay at my place a few nights later, and I confront him about the fact that I know he has a wife (made up something about my friend seeing them out together) and ask why he's kept this from me. his reaction was really similar. guilt, not understanding why he's attracted to two people at once, saying he very deeply loves C and doesn't want to leave her but really loves me too, says he's confused and doesn't know what to do. I don't mention to him that I know C or that I'm dating her.
I asked him if he's heard of polyamory before, and he said yes but he doesn't know anything about it really. I ended up encouraging him to maybe talk to his wife to see if that's something she'd be interested in, but he was terrified that she'd be hurt by the suggestion.
I really do love both of them and don't want to leave them. I've been poly for a long time and am very familiar with navigating ethical non monogamy, and to me this feels a lot like two poly people struggling to come to terms with and accept a facet of their sexualities, and they're just navigating that confusion and self discovery in ways that are...not great. but, I want to give them grace for their mistakes I guess?
so this is the part where I think I might be the asshole if I go thru with it. I've talked with both C and M separately about talking to their spouse about what's been going on and about polyamory in general, and they're both fucking terrified and really don't want to. so, I was thinking of inviting them both to my place at the same time to hash it out (without telling them that the other person will be there, since they still don't know I'm dating both of them). I think once they realize they've been dating the same person things might be easier to navigate, and will force them to confront what's been going on?? but also idk if springing this on them is the best thing I could do, but I really have no idea how to navigate this differently.
to be frank, if they love each other and both love me, my ideal outcome is that we continue things as they have been but with no secrecy and 100% transparency. I'm also afraid that even though they've both been seeing the same person and have expressed interest in polyamory after talking about it with me, they might feel personally betrayed by each other and everything could backfire spectacularly, AND I could possibly explode their whole marriage.
so, WIBTA?
What are these acronyms?
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dazaiscum · 3 months
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When everything goes wrong.....
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you know that one day when everything just goes so wrong in your life. could even be the littlest of things till eventually, a small incident causes everything to come breaking down. everything you've kept inside comes pouring out like water from a broken container. flows out even when you try to stop it. well, that's what happened to you today.
it started small. your clothes weren't ironed, then your coffee machine broke, then you started feeling the soreness in your throat so you couldn't even enjoy the coffee you paid 7 dollars for but it was all fine till you got late to work, had to run up 5 floors because the elevator broke down and even got scolded by your boss and just when you thought nothing could get worse, you reached home only to find out your leftovers had been eaten and while storming up to your room, the incident happen. the one small incident that triggers the breakdown. the door handle accidentally scraped against your hand, scratching it and that was it.
You try to hold it together, but inside, you feel like a busted container about to overflow. All the emotions and frustrations you've been hiding inside start pouring out like an unstoppable torrent. You try to fight it, but it's just too overwhelming.
you broke down and cried. cried so so hard but still the heavy feeling in your chest just wouldn't feel light, until of course, he came. your loving boyfriend.
he scooped you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest while running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings and reassuring words in your ear. the sweet sound of his voice, ringing like hymns in your ears. feeling the glide of his fingertips over your arm, stroking it. his fleeting touches over your face, cupping your cheeks, pressing kisses on the top of your head, holding you protectively against him.
"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. Everything is fine now. I'm here, and I'll keep you safe. You know I love you, my sweetest girl."
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Dazai, Simon, PRICE, GOJO, ranpo, aizawa, Nanami, CHUUYA, konig, SOAP, shoto, bakugo, MIDORIYA, wakasa, SHINCHIRO, ALEJANDRO.
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saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。DIFFICULT — GOJO SATORU.
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「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ gojo is too stubborn to let you peacefully sleep on the couch (1.2k words)
☽ contents ⋮ mentions of an argument but it's fluff, gn! reader, annoying gojo bc who is he if not a headache
☽ notes ⋮ he is so cute i wanna stab him
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gojo satoru is difficult to have arguments with.
he’s stubborn and never seems to take things seriously and he never really listens to a word you say—everything always goes in one ear and out the other. like when you tell him you'll be on the couch for the night so you can have space, for example. it seems space is not a word in gojo's dictionary, because he strolls into the living room with his hands in his pockets and his lips whistling a soft tune. you glare at him from your spot on the couch, watching as he stops a few feet before you.
there’s a smooth grin on his face, almost too smooth—like he’s plastered it on for appearance’s sake, like it masks the true nature of his feelings as he hides them with that usual unbothered smile of his.
“is there room for one more?”
“no,” you say bluntly, promptly turning away to face your back to him. you don’t have to look back to know his face is curled into that pout of his—the dangerous one that does too good of a job of convincing you to give him his way.
“kay, fine,” he huffs, and then you hear the soft thud of his body settling on the floor, making you itch to turn and peek over the edge of the couch. you succeed at ignoring for him for approximately thirty seconds before the curiosity gets the better of you and you swallow your pride and take a quick look.
sure enough, he lies curled on the hardwood floor, limbs awkwardly sprawled as he stares up at you with innocent eyes.
"what are you doing?" you furrow your brows, and he stares at you like you've asked a silly question—maybe you have. being hard to get rid of has always been gojo's specialty, and you should know better by now that retiring to the couch is never enough to retire from him.
"i'm going to sleep. what does it look like?" he says like it's obvious. you almost smack him with your pillow for his tone, but you have half a mind not to—it's the perfect opportunity for him to steal it, and it's not your problem he forgot the single most important thing when it comes to sleeping.
"well, why here?" you scowl, making him shrug as he settles his hands behind his head and looks up to the ceiling.
"seems like a good spot to sleep," he says casually, "nice hard floor to cushion my back, cool breeze of the air conditioning to keep me cold, the clock ticking in my ear to keep me up. perfect place, huh? and if i get bored, we even have a tv!"
"i let you have the bed, you idiot," you purse your lips.
"who needs a bed when i can sleep on the hardwood floor next to my sweet little baby—" you cut him off before he can finish, feeling the last possible vein you can preserve while dating a man like gojo satoru pop.
"well, then i'm going to use the bed if you don't," you sit up, grabbing your pillow and blanket. and because he's gojo satoru, the bane of your existence and the sole cause of all your headaches, he sits up too.
"good idea, baby! let's go—"
"no. you stay here, and i'll take the bed."
"okay," he hums, still not making any moves to lay back down.
you quickly realize this isn't a battle you can easily win with him—as is any battle, really—and you roll your eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat as you glare down at him. he looks up at you with that same innocent look—those same wide eyes that blink up at you like they couldn't possibly do any wrong.
"you realize i'm not sharing the bed with you just because you're stubborn, right?" you ask dryly.
he grins, that familiar glint in his eyes that always means trouble, "well, i never said anything about taking the bed, did i?"
"satoru, you can't possibly mean sleeping on the floor next to the bed—"
"it's technically not the bed," he insists, "all you said is you're not sleeping with me. you never said anything about near me."
"okay, i don't want to sleep near you," you scowl.
"ah ah," he shakes his head, "you can't add rules now. it's too late."
"satoru—"
"so what'll it be? bed or couch?"
"i hate you," you grumble, settling back down on the (uncomfortable) cushions of your living room couch, back once more facing him. you can hear his body softly settle back onto the floor again, and after a few beats of silence, he speaks up again.
"can i use your blanket? i'm cold."
"no."
"c'mon, just toss half of it over the edge, i'll scoot. we can make it work—"
"are you trying to piss me off?" you snap as you sit up, glaring down at him once more.
gojo satoru is difficult to have arguments with. he's stubborn and annoying and so stupidly handsome. he makes your eyes soften before you can help it as they graze over his messy hair and the soft glow of his lip balm. he makes your anger ebb away slowly no matter how hard you try to latch onto it just from that toothy grin of his. he makes you forget you're arguing and that you should be mad when you notice the soft, gentle traces of love in his eyes.
so you blink as you watch him, letting out a quiet sigh as he shakes his head and offers you a small, innocent smile—one that tells you he loves you, that he's not mad, that he'll wait on the cold, hard floor with no pillow and blanket for you as long as he needs to.
"no," he chuckles, "no i'd never want to make you mad. you're scary when you get mad."
"that's rich, coming from the strongest sorcerer in the world," you mutter, making him laugh softly. and you're not mad anymore—not as much as you were just a bit ago.
maybe it's because you love him too, even despite the way he makes your veins pop, and your patience thin, and your head ache with that aggravating personality of his. maybe that's what love is, when even the bad and the ugly are part of the good.
"behind every strong man is an even stronger—"
"just come here," you groan, scooting over to make room for him on the couch. he doesn't need to be told twice—doesn't even waste a moment as if he's been expecting it all this time as he climbs in beside you and pulls you into his chest.
and it's cramped—it's slightly uncomfortable as your legs dangle over the edge and your pillow barely fits under both of your heads. but his body is warm and his arms hold you tight and you can faintly make out out the thrum of his heart against your body.
maybe it's not so bad—not if it's gojo.
"did you miss me too much?" he wriggles his brows, pouting when you shove his face away as he leans in for a kiss.
"still haven't earned kisses back yet," you grin, "goodnight satoru."
"but i can't sleep without a goodnight kiss—"
"love you," you cut him off with a giggle.
gojo satoru is difficult to have arguments with—but you think you win this time.
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© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
i want to have gojo satorus babies
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ghostbsuter · 7 months
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Wonder MOM ( part 1 )
Happenings/mentions of:
Child abuse, possible trafficking, kidnapping and blood!
Nothing is explicit.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
Someone was in that cage.
Controlled anger aside, Batman made sure his footsteps were to be heard, speaking slow and calm as he approached and slid off the cloth.
"Everything will be okay now, are you–?"
With the cloth aside, Batman got a good look at the unconscious person inside.
He knows that face.
Thats—!!
"B! B, can you hear me?" Oracle calls, considering no one else seems to talk, he assumes Barbara put them into a private line.
"I'm here, Oracle." He answers easily, hands gripping the lock and fishing out the familiar pick-locking equipment.
"You went silent for a moment there, B, we got worried."
He gives a grunt at that, ripping the cage bars open and carefully checking for a pulse.
It's there, barely.
"Oracle, call Agent a to prepare, I'm bringing someone over."
"Got it. B, be careful, please."
Bringing the teen, the same age as his youngest, out of the cage seemed a bit harder than thought.
With some manoeuvring and carefully placed feet, the big Bat brings them both out in one swoop, tight on his hold.
His head rolls to the side, groggily blinking awake and peering up to Batman.
"Batsy?"
"Sleep, I'm getting you out of here."
"...knew you'd find me." Messy black hair hides the way he squishes his own face into Batman's side.
"Mom's probably very worried..." he gives an awkward laugh, throat dry and burning with the move.
The movement and warmth lulled him into sleep quite easily.
(Batman's expression, even if stony and blank, covered in a dark veil, anyone can see the carefully hidden layer of fury.)
Patrol was cut short that night, the boy in Alfred's care, and Bruce didn't hesitate calling Diana immediately after.
"Hello—"
"I found him."
Diana, Wonder Woman, remained silent upon the response, a quite inhale echoing through the call.
"They brought him all the way to Gotham?"
The man nods despite knowing Diana wouldn't see, giving a verbal answer after.
"I have a report of all injuries he has been subjected to. I'll send you the list."
There is a moment of silence before a sharp hiss from Diana comes through.
"They took his blood–?!"
"Not much from what Alfred gathered, but enough to get a running supply for their... plans."
"I'm coming over. Bruce, you and I both know the dangers of his blood in the wrong hands."
"Let's discuss this once you're here, Diana. Safe travels."
With a click and the call ended.
One look, and he has the eyes of most birds and bats on him already.
"The boy. You know him." Damian steps forward, arms crossed and cape off. The others must have come back not long ago and eavesdropped on his conversation.
"I do."
(The fact he doesn't elaborate nor does anyone either speak up is quite hilarious, wasn't it for the situation.)
The silence goes on, eyes sweeping over Stephanie's furrowed, thoughtful expression, Tim's calculating gaze, cass's curious yet open body language, duck's suspicious raised eyebrow and Damian's 'I dare you' scowl.
At least they didn't wake duke with their commotion.
"What's going on?" Jinxed, Duke himself comes down the stairs in his sleeping clothes, yawning.
"Duke, you're supposed to sleep."
"Sorry, sorry, apparently family drama is happening, and they needed more support." He jerks his hand towards the gaggle of vigilante children(1)/teens/one adult that is only an adult because of age laws.
Bruce suppresses a sigh.
There's a giggle to the side which gathers the attention of everyone.
Around the same height of damian, slightly thinner, is the teen B rescued not long ago. And who should not be awake either.
Alfred gives a smile, arm out stretched to support him on his way to the batclan, eyening his form with tapt attention.
"Batsy!" Ignoring the snorts and coos, Bruce nods back.
"Danny." The kid grins broadly, approaching.
He gives a wave to the other, attention solely on Bruce however.
"Is my mom coming?"
"Yes, she is on her way."
"Wonderful!"
He claps, arms bandaged to his throat, sickly pale and absolutely looking like prime adoption bait.
Cass approaches, hands ready to sign the most wnated question of everyone in the room and Bruce is already feeling the words of denial at the tip of his tongue.
'New br—'
"No."
Cass isn't backing down, expression only getting more determined.
'Honorary brother?'
He doesn't stop the sigh escaping, especially when Danny jumps up at the words with glee.
"Yes! Honorary!"
She seems very pleased with that, holding her hand out for a silent request, qnd once approved, gave a nice headpat.
"I'm actually surprised you didn't tell your kids of me, batsy." Danny side eyes the man, grinning mischievous.
"It slipped my mind."
(No, he doesn't break under the gaze of every person's disbelief stare directed at him. He stronger than that.)
(B did avoid meeting anyone's eyes tho.)
"Wait, so who is the moth—"
A green portal opens in the middle of the cave, and it has the most tense and drawing weapons.
Wonder woman stepped through.
"That answers my question then."
"Mom!"
Diana swooped him up, holding him closer and ducking her head into his black hair.
The Lady peers up at Bruce with a smile. "Thank you."
Her attention shifts to the child. "Frostbite will be expecting us, are you doing good enough to walk or should I–"
"I'm okay! I can walk!" Danny puffs his chest to prove it, giving her a reassuring smile.
Diana's brows knit together in worry. "Very well." She accepts, reluctant. She leads him to the still open veil of green, nodding towards pennyworth and both bid their goodbyes.
For now that is.
The portal closes.
"So, how were we originally supposed to know about Diana having a son??"
"HIS MOM IS WONDER WOMAN????"
"I'm so glad this isn't another adoptive brother. Honorary is good enough."
"HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM US, B!!!"
"Does that mean we have a miniature Trinity of the originals?"
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lizzieisright · 8 months
Text
Tranquility
dom!reader x sub!Abby
Summary: You want to help Abby relax and show her she doesn't have to control everything, sometimes she just can let go.
Tags: dom!reader, fingering, praise, consent checks, Abby doesn't really notice she is subbing, very light and vanilla, Sylvia Plath's quotes.
wc: 3.7k
MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
You don't jump into power dynamics right away when you get together: Abby doesn't even think about it too much - she just assumes since between the two of you she is the killing machine, big strong scary Abby Anderson, she'll be in charge like she is everywhere else. And you don't seem to mind, even though you had the sex talk way prior to having actual sex (I can't bottom every time if it's something you want, you said to her, and Abby agreed: she liked topping but she could bottom just fine). 
So the thought of power dynamics doesn't come to Abby at all, until one day. 
You are too good at reading Abby's mood - for some reason you can notice even the small shift in her. It's a superpower that creeps Abby out sometimes, how you can recognise her feelings and act accordingly. You don't make a scene out of it, you don't take care of her like she is a child who can't regulate her emotions, but you're there through it all. You're not scared of her anger or her tears, always calm, and for the first time in years Abby feels like she can rely on someone. Can trust someone fully. 
And today Abby is on edge. She is tired, angry and frustrated - the plan for the next supply run isn't safe in her opinion. Abby likes her plans to be foolproof, "if you think they're smart enough think again and dumb it down" type of fool-proof. Everyone said Abby was being ridiculous about it, and maybe she was, but it doesn't make her feel any better. 
And you obviously notice it. You watch her from the couch as Abby walks around packing, huffing every two seconds in anger. 
"I saw that plan, Abby, it's good. Everything will be fine. Manageable if something goes wrong."
"Jamie is on the team, and this idiot will get us in trouble." Abby growls. "And then someone will have to clean up his mess and someone will get hurt and it will slow us down-"
"Okay. Okay, Abs, stop." You put your book away. "Come here, you need to relax." You pat your lap and Abby stares at you before laughing.
"What, you want me to sit in your lap?" Abby asks sceptically. 
"Yeah." You pat your lap again. Abby is unsure and she feels ridiculous: she is not a lap dog, she is a fucking German shepherd.
"I'm too big to sit in your lap, baby." 
"Do I look like I give a fuck?" You deadpan. "Big girls need to sit on their lover's lap too. Come here."
Abby blinks. She likes that she is big and tall - it makes her feel powerful, but it comes with a cost. She doesn't get to feel small. And you asking her to sit on your lap opens something so desperate in her she gets scared. Abby knows she won't feel small, but she wants to try anyway. Abby tentatively makes her way to you, still unsure how it will work, but you tug her lightly and she straddles you. Abby feels like she is a giant on top of you, and she doesn't really remember where to put her hands. She settles on your shoulders.
"This is awkward." Abby assesses, frowning. 
"It's not. Sit, Abby, I can feel that you're hovering. I'm not going to break, I'm not made of dust." You push at her thighs so she can spread them and finally sit. You seem pretty happy with this, hugging her by her waist and pressing her closer to you. Abby is getting used to this, but it still seems ridiculous to her. She is used to tugging you to sit on her lap, not the other way around. 
"Am I too heavy?"
"I like feeling your weight on me. Makes it feel real." You grin and stroke her back. "Really, relax. I can read to you if you want."
Abby doesn't really know what to do. She has no arguments against you, and your lap is very comfortable. As well as being this close to you, feeling your body, your breathing, your warmth. 
"Yeah, okay. We can do that."
Abby does what you usually do when she reads: she puts her head on your shoulder and lets you snake your arms around her. 
"Good." You comment and hold the book with one hand while you stroke Abby's back with the other one. 
You are warm and your smell is comforting, so Abby puts her nose into the crook of your neck and breathes in.
"Yeah. Breathe. Deep big breaths." You say offhandedly as you look through the pages. It's weird. Abby feels safe and taken care of and it feels good, but it is too unfamiliar to be comfortable with it. 
"Would it be too childish of me to say: I want? But I do want: theater, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder. Yet not all these can do more than try to lure the soul from its den where it sulks in busy heaps of filth and obstinate clods of bloody pulp. I must find a core of fruitful seeds in me. I must stop identifying with the seasons, because this English winter will be the death of me-" You've read out loud and Abby suddenly resonates with the first line. Would it be too childish of her to say: she wants your care? 
"What is this?"
"Sylvia Plath's diaries."
"She sounds dramatic." Abby murmurs into your neck while you are caressing her back. Fuck it feels so good. She is so safe. 
"Bitch is all over the place sometimes. But she is a poet."
You kiss Abby's head and she leans into your touch, surprising herself. She isn't usually… needy, but right now something is different. The sudden safety of your arms around her, your calm voice and familiar smell makes Abby feel dangerously vulnerable. 
"You feel pretty relaxed." You notice as you now stroking her head, putting all annoying baby hairs behind her ear. 
"Yeah. It's so weird though."
You chuckle.
"In what way?"
"Usually it's you who sits in my lap. But this is good. Just weird."
"I think the word you're looking for is unfamiliar."
"Are you a thesaurus?" 
You laugh and kiss her forehead. Abby nuzzles her nose into your neck and your breath hitches. 
You know Abby doesn't mean to get you horny with her breathing, but you are getting horny. 
"Come here." You tell her and Abby lifts her head just enough for you to kiss her. She is warm and welcoming, doesn't rush anywhere and you are not rushing either, just enjoying the kiss. Abby relaxes into you and it surprises both of you - she isn't a person who gives up control easily. Hell, the whole thing started because Abby couldn't deal with people not doing everything like she told them to. But you feel how she puts more weight on you and you buck your hips into her. 
"Okay yeah. Still weird, but good." Abby pants into your mouth. You dig your fingers into her ass and press her into your crotch. "Oh fuck."
"Wanna make you cum." You say, panting yourself as arousal takes the hold of you. "What do you think?"
Abby looks at you with a lifted brow. 
"You think I'm going to say no?"
"Well." You kiss her jaw. "I don't plan on letting you do anything at all, so, maybe take a moment to think about it."
Abby stares at you as your words settle in. She will what, just lie there and do nothing? It sounds wrong, it sounds like she is going to be out of control, but also…
Also it sounds like the sweetest sin she could commit. 
"If you're not sure, we can stop. Like, fully. Or at any point you want to." You stroke her cheeks with your thumbs as you watch Abby. You know she is apprehensive about this idea, but you want her to relax fully and forget about everything. And you know you can give it to her if she just says yes. 
"Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can do that." Abby smiles bashfully and you kiss her, so fucking grateful for how brave she is. 
It's one thing to stare death in her face and win, and the other thing to stare in your lover's face and decide to trust them completely. And any other day Abby would have chosen death, but with you the danger can't get safer than this. 
So Abby lets herself relax into you again and just enjoy your touch. 
"Thanks." 
Abby chuckles, but it turns into a gasp as you move your lips down her neck while your hands are tugging on her shirt. Abby helps you take the shirt and the bra off, and you just caress her sides, looking over her. 
Abby knows you like how she looks, but having your attention like this makes her nervous. Your eyes are so dark with hunger Abby wants to look away but she doesn't, as sudden greed for your love washes over her. You look at her like you want to devour her. 
"Pretty." You sigh as you smile. "You're so pretty, Abs."
"I don't think pretty is the right word."
"Beautiful?"
Abby huffs but can't help her smile.
"Gorgeous?"
"Stop it." Abby says, playfully stern. "You're so sappy, god."
You grin and kiss her again, shutting her up - if you say she is pretty, she is, and whatever Abby thinks of herself is totally irrelevant. Your lips make a trail from her neck to her shoulder and you gently kiss her freckles, listening to Abby's breathing closely: it gets heavier as you move your kisses down, and these small sighs are the greatest encouragement you can get. 
You slowly move one of your hands up and cup Abby's tit, kneading her doughy flesh as she gasps. 
"Feels nice?"
"Yeah." Abby murmurs and runs her hand over your hair. It's still hard to let go so she tries to occupy herself in some way. She gently massages your neck and you kiss her just above her nipple. "Yeah, this is nice."
"Good. Let's take your pants off, I need them out of the way."
Your intonation makes Abby throb in her pants - it sounds so commanding and for once in her life she doesn't want to fight it, no, she wants to obey - it's easy with you. Safe. 
Abby stands from your lap and you help her take her pants and underwear off, making a small pile on the floor. Abby reaches to tug your shirt off, but you gently push her hands away. 
"Relax, baby. Don't worry about anything, okay?" You tug her back into your lap and sigh so happily when you touch her bare skin. "Your job right now is just to be pretty. Can you do that?"
Abby is conflicted: you don't sound patronising, but it should sound patronising, shouldn't it? She stops for a second to understand her reaction and you just watch her. You know Abby needs some time to process what is happening, so you continue caressing her back and her pretty ass that makes you drool while Abby figures out how she feels about your new behaviour. 
"Well I can try." Abby shrugs and you smile. 
"Thanks. I wanna call you princess, you know?" You kiss her neck and leave a hickey on her collarbone. 
"Call me what?" Abby laughs in the middle of her gasp at how ridiculous it sounds, but it's not a bad laugh. It's just embarrassing. "I'm no princess, (y/n)."
"Would you actually mind if I called you that?" You kiss her breastbone and Abby watches you. 
"Don't think so." Abby pants and looks at you impatiently as you finally move your lips to her tits. 
"Princess." You murmur and look into her eyes while her cheeks become bright red. "My pretty princess." You suck on her nipple gently and Abby gasps, squeezing your shoulders. The pet name turns her on - a lot of things turn her on right now even though they're weird and embarrassing.
You play with her other nipple and Abby presses closer to you, so you let your restraints go and use all your strength to move her closer to the point where her back is arched. Abby sighs, surprised - obviously Abby knows you are strong (not as strong as her, but strong nonetheless), but she never actually experienced it. Maybe you can make her feel small. Maybe you can make her feel like no one else could before. 
You slowly move your hands up Abby’s muscular thighs, caressing every line with your fingertips - Abby is too hot for her own good, and the hungry monster that lives inside you claws at your chest, desperate to have its way with Abby and make her forget her fucking name, but you’re patient. You would never push Abby into something she isn’t ready for, especially in sex, but you want to show her an alternative. Show that she can let herself forget her fucking name and it will be safe. Because god knows Abby needs it.
Abby watches your hands in anticipation and you smirk at her when you place your hands on conjunctions of her hips, caressing her hip bones with your thumbs. Abby is soft here, but her V-line makes her look sharp and hard, and it gets to your head. 
“I fucking love how strong you are, you have no idea.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Abby chuckles, but she is impatient, so she grabs your hand and moves it down to her pussy. 
“Hey, don’t spoil the fun.” You scold her playfully and bring your hand back. “I’m not going to keep you waiting, princess. Relax.”
Abby feels how her face burns when you call her princess again, but it gets her wet, so impossibly wet there's probably a dark spot on your pants under her. Abby grinds her hips down, searching for some friction, and you push your hips up to let her have it. Abby shudders as her clit grinds down on your pelvis and her hands clutch your shoulders almost painfully as she tries to set a pace of her hips. 
"This is so hot, Abs. Fuck." You tell her as you watch her get off just grinding on you. You grab her ass and help her grind harder and Abby whimpers quietly, and your brain barely holds back your filthy mouth. You want to tell Abby how good she is, how she is doing such a good job getting herself off, but you hold it back for now. 
The friction is not enough and you know it, so you lock her in place with one arm around her waist, praying she'd listen to you, and snake your other hand between your bodies. 
Abby is so fucking wet your eyes roll back into your scull from how hard it turns you on. 
"You're so wet, princess." You murmur into her ear and Abby whimpers again. "You okay?"
Abby just nods and it clicks. Abby is getting overwhelmed, but she clings to you so you figure out it's a good overwhelmed. 
"Do you like it when I call you princess?" You ask mostly to make sure, but it sounds so seductive to Abby, a little mean maybe but in a good way. 
"It's embarrassing." Abby admits and squirms around when you cup her pussy. Finally. 
"Do you want me to stop?" You ask gently and look in her eyes, serious. Abby looks back, but her eyes are glazed over, she is too horny to care about being embarrassed by this point. 
"No. Don't stop." Abby grinds against your hand and you press her closer to make her stop. 
"You wanna cum already?"
"You keep fucking teasing me." Abby says, annoyed.
"I'm taking my time." You kiss her cheek and part her folds carefully, circling her clit with two fingers and Abby buries her head into your neck, moaning. You stroke her back to soothe her, but your fingers only get faster, the pressure is featherlight and it drives Abby crazy because it will get her to cum way too fast, and you know it. 
"Yeah, that's right, princess. Relax and enjoy, yeah?" You can't stop talking now, desperate to praise Abby and make her feel safe in your arms. "Does it feel good?"
"I- I can't fucking-" Abby moans between her words, clinging to you harder as your fingers get her closer to her release. "Icantfuckingthink" Abby says in one breath and you barely make sense of it.
"Oh princess, don't. Don't think, okay? Be good for me." You pay closer attention to her reaction, not sure if Abby would like it, but she is too out of it now. She whines - fucking hell Abby whines - and presses closer to you.
"Yeah, I'll take care of you, I'll make you feel good." You promise her and slide your fingers down, gently pressing at her hole. Abby arches into your fingers, trying to get them inside, and your heart melts. "You're so cute, fuck. You want my fingers?" 
Abby growls at you, refusing to talk, and you chuckle. 
"Just nod for me, okay? Or shake your head."
Abby takes a second to process your words and then she nods. 
"Good girl." 
That makes Abby open her eyes in shock and her walls clench around nothing to push her slick into your hand, and you can tell she liked it. 
"Can I call you that, princess?" You slowly push your fingers inside and just move them to feel how soft and hot Abby is. She suddenly grinds down on your hand and you kiss her shoulder. "Nod or shake." You remind her. 
Abby nods, her embarrassment totally forgotten by this point: she feels small, safe and taken care of, and the way you talk to her only makes it better. Your stupid spidey senses let you know when to check in with her and Abby never knew it could be this way - that giving consent can turn her on so much because you ask for it like you're dirty talking to her. 
And you are so close and you hold her so tightly Abby feels grounded even though she is so overwhelmed she can't think anymore. She just feels, her world only exists in the tactile plane now, and your voice carries her away. 
"Yeah, don't think, princess, I want your head empty and your pretty cunt stuffed with my fingers." You murmur into Abby's ear and she buries her face in your neck deeper as you curl your fingers inside her. Abby moans quietly and you feel how you lose any self-control you had before. 
You pick up the pace, catching the balance between overwhelmingly fast and not fast enough just so you won't disturb Abby's delicate headspace, and you just listen to her. Abby is not loud, never been, but that what makes it so magical - every sigh turns into a quiet whimper the longer you fuck her, and then you feel it, how Abby clenches around your fingers, her orgasm coming closer. 
"You're close, princess, I can fucking feel it. Do you feel it? Does it feel nice when you're so tight around me?"
"Yeah." Abby says in a hoarse low voice and your teeth fucking ache because you want to sink them into her so much. 
"Fuck Abby." You kiss her temple and suddenly you're fucking her so hard Abby gets tense in your arms, overwhelmed. "You have no idea what you do to me."
But Abby is not listening to you because you turn your hand just enough so you could thumb her clit and-
"Fuck!" Abby shrieks and closes her thighs on you as she cums. You stop moving your fingers inside her to enjoy how she pulsates around them, but you continue thumbing her clit."Fuck-fuck, stop-" Abby asks when it becomes too much and you obey her. 
Abby is panting hard and you just kiss her neck and shoulders, waiting for her to calm down, but you can't help yourself so you start slowly moving your fingers in and out. 
"You feel amazing around my fingers, princess."
"Fuck, don't stop, please, don't fucking stop-" Abby whispers and hugs you around your neck. You’re more than happy to oblige, and you can’t help your mean smile as you move your fingers slowly but thoroughly, getting a feel of every centimetre of Abby’s walls. 
It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Abby to whimper and shudder in your arms again, drenching your hand up to your wrist, and you gently kiss her to help her calm down. Abby is limp on your lap, her head comfortably tucked in your neck as she pants. Abby feels exhausted but ridiculously happy, giddy even - you opened something in her, something that freed her vulnerability fully. God, Abby always knew she could trust you, let you watch her back, but the thought she could be so vulnerable and small with you never crossed her mind.
“Do you want to nap, baby?” You murmur in her hair and Abby hums in agreement. “Okay, let me put your shirt back on, yeah?”
Abby reluctantly lets you put the shirt on her and wrap a blanket around both of you as you adjust your position so you’d be lying down while Abby would be on top of you, so it would be comfortable for her to rest. You open your book again while Abby’s breathing evens out.
“I am watching a pale blue sky be torn across by wind fresh from the russian steppes. Why is it that I find it so difficult to accept the present moment, whole as an apple, without cutting and hacking at it to find a purpose, or setting it up on a shelf with other apples to measure its worth or trying to pickle it in brine to preserve it, and crying to find it turns all brown and is no longer simply the lovely apple I was given in the morning?”
The present moment, whole as an apple - Abby doesn’t have to worry about not accepting it, lulled by your voice and your warmth and your smell - after all, the present is all she has.
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gotholdladywithadhd · 28 days
Text
Unpopular opinion, probably.
So I've read many metas, and thought a lot about it and have come to my own personal conclusion about the final 15.
I'm taking it at face value.
Because it was the most human Crowley and Aziraphale have probably ever been and I think that is at least part of the point. Love makes people stupid and they are navigating a very human thing in very unhuman circumstances, and it's hard enough to do as a human in human circumstances!
I think Aziraphale believed the Metatron about Crowley bc he was expecting the worst when TM mentioned Crowley but instead got the one thing he wanted most (him and Crowley together and safe, not Crowley being an angel. ) Crowley was absolutely the carrot here. (and no I do not think Crowley would have been safe or happy, but that's besides the point.) I can't tell you how many times I've believed patently ridiculous things because I wanted to believe them so badly even though if I was looking at the same situation objectively from an outside POV I would see how ridiculous it was, so I totally get it. This isn't to say I think Azi had a real choice to go to Heaven or not and I think he did understand that as well, but I get the temptation the Metatron threw out to him, I really do.
As for Aziraphale literally saying all the wrong things to try and get Crowley to come with him? Um yeah been there done that too, the nerves take over, the brain shuts off, the mouth goes into autopilot pulling stuff out its ass, and "WITAF did I just say?" happens.
Crowley not taking any of it well and only hearing what he expected to hear (I'm not good enough for you bc I'm a demon and you only really want me if I can be an angel) *and* also being more able to see through heavens bullshit bc he has lived it, and can see it from the outside, *and* all whilst being the most honest and vulnerable he has ever been with Aziraphale in 6,000 plus years (or in fact possibly to anyone, ever. the closest before this admitting he was lonely to Azi during the Job minisode,) *then* hearing what he took to be the same Heaven will save us line from Azi was enough to trigger a massive bout of RSD and a broken heart. Everything was supposed to "vavoom and sorted! " and instead the stupid awning broke and everything went wrong. I think I've said it before that at this point Crowley can't hear anything over the sound of his heart breaking into a million pieces.
That's a whole lot to pack into the brief moments before Azi has to leave with the Metatron (who let's be honest was rushing him before he could change his mind) esp when neither of them are used to discussing their relationship openly. They didn't have time to think, to ask questions, to share information, (like hey guess what really happened to Gabriel?) Crowley tried to communicate as much as he could about his feelings with the kiss but Azi didn't have the time to properly process all that and said the wrong thing again and Crowley was rejected (he thought) again and it all just went so very wrong. You can't fix a 6,000 year relationship in 15 minutes, you just can't no matter what the story books say.
It's about two people wanting the same thing but not being able to get it (yet) because of circumstances and personalities. All of S2 was about them seeming to be closer than ever (and in many ways they were) but really they were opposed at almost every turn. (in RL not the minisodes, those actually showed them working together and coming out okay mostly, if you don't count wee Morag or Crowley getting dragged to hell) The way they both handled the Gabriel situation, how they both worked to solve the mystery, even how they tried to make Nina and Maggie fall in love were all either done alone, or in opposite ways. I've said it before and I'll say it again, as it was pointed out right in ep1, their exactlies aren't the same and until they are, they aren't going to be able to be together. The one time they did work together in the season, they produced a 25 lazuri miracle. That is the point of the final 15, and the whole season 2 in my opinion.
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They'll get there in the end though!
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enhafilthandfiction · 9 months
Note
Enhypen kissing you during a argument!🥹
Enhypen Kissing you during an Argument
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A/N : This is literally so sjsdksd 🤭🤭 Anywaysss, I hope you enjoy and I don't disappoint this anon :))
Pairing : Bf!Enha X Fem!Reader
Warnings : Arguments, some swearing, crack, kisses.
Word Count : 2,130 Words (About 300 words each)
Masterlist
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» Lee Heeseung «
"I already told you Heeseung! You can't get mad at me, your girlfriend, for interrupting your stupid game!" you yelled, anger laced in your tone. He's been too obsessed with that game he's playing that you can't even talk to him or he'll scold you for 'distracting' him.
"It's not stupid and hey- It doesn't really matter okay?" he tries to defend his game but you won't stop until you've proved your point.
"No, it is in fact stupid, it even makes you stupid!" you let out, scoffing.
He sighs out and rolls his eyes "Look, why are we fighting over this damn game anyway? I won't scold you next time" he promises.
"I know for a damn fact you will Hees-" he cuts you off, gently placing his palms on your cheeks as he pulls you in for an apologetic kiss. He hates how this game is getting between you, and he knows he's to blame on the most part.
He pulls away, looking at your dumbfounded face before explaining "Look, I'm sorry, maybe I do get mad at you when you interrupt me, but from now on it won't happen anymore okay?" he declares.
You sigh and offer him a sheepish smile, not fully sold on his statement. "Yeah, we'll see how that goes" you say rolling your eyes.
"Pinky pwomiseee" he says in a sweet tone, holding out his larger pinky. You intertwine pinkies with him, staring him dead in the eye. "Scold me one more time and I'll erase you game" you threatened, watching as he physically gulps.
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» Park Jay «
Jay was spending too much time in the dorms lately, and it was making you worried. The amount of time he was spending in there made you think he was cheating on you or something.
"Y/n, I promise you, I just had to take care of the members" he assures, trying to calm your worried state.
"Jay, you weren't even coming home these past days!" you point out, your voice coming out higher than intended. You were just worried. He places his palms on the counter to hold himself up as he sighs, watching you from behind the counter. "What do you want me to tell you Y/n?" he asks, not really knowing how to get out of this situation.
You look back at him, eyebrows still furrowed as you shrug, not knowing what you want from him yourself. You lift your eyes from the floor when you notice him making his way over to you, his eyes on yours.
When he's close enough, he leans down, pressing his lips onto yours. You realised that he didn't need to say anything, telling you everything through the kiss. His hands find your waist, lightly squeezing.
When he pulls away he offers you an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for spending too much time in the dorms. Thankyou for looking after me, but the boys really needed me this week" he explains, caressing your cheek.
Your expression softens as you slowly smile up at him, kissing his thumb, making him chuckle. "I'm sorry for yelling, Jay"
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» Sim Jake «
"What the fuck was that about Jake?" you spat at him once you came back home. He looks at you with his eyebrows knitted in confusion.
"What?" he asks, trying to think of what he did wrong.
"You literally didn't acknowledge me the whole time we were with your friends, you literally invited me to come along and then not even look at me the whole night!" your voice starts to get higher as you let out your frustration, referring to how he kept laughing with his friends and literally ignored you.
You felt like you were overreacting, or like you were needy for attention and with the way he remained silent, you thought he was judging you. As tears started brimming your eyes, he sat down next to you on the couch, sighing before wrapping his arms around you.
"I'm sorry I didn't notice baby, I was just too focused on what they were saying" he explains, knowing he messed up.
"What do you mean you were too focused on them?" you ask, trying to get away from his affection. Before you can yell at him more, he turns to his side, looking at you before capturing your lips with his, making you melt in his touch.
"I'm really sorry for being a dick, I swear I'll make it up to you" he promises when he pulls away, moving your hair out of your face and attempting to dry away your tears.
You avoid his gaze and look down at the floor, giving him the silent treatment. He rolls his eyes and chuckles, grabbing a hold of your hands and swinging them. "C'mon Y/n, will you let me show you how sorry I am?" he asks, flicking his eyebrows up and down.
Now you couldn't deny him anymore.
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» Park Sunghoon «
"Hoon, you were literally flirting with her!" you let out your frustration the second you arrive home. He sighs for the millionth time.
"Y/n, I already told you, she's just my friend!"
"Yeah, just a friend that you're extra close to" you spit, rolling your eyes "I mean, c'mon, anyone who doesn't know you would've guessed you were dating!" you exaggerate a little, crossing your arms.
"Just because I bought her a drink and laughed along to her jokes doesn't mean she's my girlfriend" He chuckles in disbelief "I was just being kind!" he explains himself, waiting for your reply.
"Whatever, I'm sleeping on the couch tonight" you declare, heading to the living room.
"No you're not" he says in a softer tone, gently grasping your hand before you can get out of his reach. "You're sleeping in bed with me because you're my girlfriend. Not her"
You huff as he brings you closer to him, his face inching closer to yours, before he presses a soft kiss to your lips. You don't kiss back at first, making him smile at how stubborn you were.
"She was actually kind of annoying me to be honest" he admits, giggling. Seeing his eyes turn into lines and his dimples on display, you couldn't be mad at him anymore.
You get on your tiptoes and kiss him back. "You're a dick Hoonie" you say, this time wriggling out of his reach. "But I'll still sleep in your bed"
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» Kim Sunoo «
"You've got to be kidding me" you whisper to yourself as you open your expensive body scrub which you bought just last week. It wasn't even smooth anymore, someone had dug their hands in it. Your boyfriend.
"Kim Sunoo!" you yell, your voice booming out into the corridor, reaching his ears. Shit, he messed up. He hesitantly makes his way over to you, taking cautious steps to the bathroom before peeking his head inside.
"Y/nnn" he begins, not sure what he did wrong.
"Did you use this?" you ask, shoving the little tub in his face. He gulps and admits that yes, he did.
"You used up like the whole thing!" you exaggerate, a frown visible on your face. As you continue to rant, he just tries to tell you that it's fie because he can buy you like a hundred more if you want. "It was so expensive too!" you cry out.
"Y/n," he begins, placing both palms on your cheeks before he leans in for a kiss, shutting you up. "I'll buy you a new one" he assures after pulling away.
You stare at him for a quick second, still not wanting to forgive him for using your product without even asking first and literally emptying it.
"Let's go today" he says, trying to make you smile, which you unwillingly do.
"Fine, let's go before I scrape that body scrub off your face"
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» Yang Jungwon «
You wanted to curse Heeseung for starting Jungwon's obsession with legos. It's like everytime you two went to the mall he'd come home with a new lego set and start building it excitedly.
You'd always watch as he gets lost in the piece he's building, eyebrows furrowed in concentration of this complex piece he way building.
You were always very cautious around his legos, until you weren't. You were just walking around the kitchen counter before involuntary knocking over one of his pieces, watching as it shatters on the ground, lego pieces decorating the whole floor.
As soon as he heard the noise, you stop shocked in your tracks as he runs to the kitchen to see what happened. "Y/nnn" he whines out annoyed when he sees his newly built masterpiece on the ground.
"I'm so sorry Won, I didn't mean to" you try to explain, kneeling at the floor to pick up the little plastic pieces. He huffs out and gets on the floor too, helping you out.
"Maybe you should be more careful" he spits, rolling his eyes "Now I have to rebuilt this all from scratch" he huffs.
"Hey, it's not my fault it was right at the edge of the counter!" you try to defend yourself, having had enough of his bullsh already. "I'm sick of your stupid legos and your obsession with them!" you sigh out angrily, standing up and refusing to help.
He grabs your hand just in time, standing up too. "Oh, so I'm gonna have to pick up the mess you made?" he asks in sarcasm.
"It doesn't matter! They're just colourful blocks anyway!" you let out "You can always rebuild it" you try to reason, but he wasn't having it.
"Yeah, but I've already spent hours building it and now I'm gonna have to spend more time rebuilding it!" he explains back, trying to get his point across.
You sigh out at how blinded he was by these bricks but as you tried to walk away again, he wouldn't let you.
"Hey, I'm not gonna let legos make us fight" he says in a much softer tone, finally giving up his legos. "I prefer you way more than the legos anyway"
You finally listen to him, crossing your arms and watching as he comes closer to you. His eyes have softened as he sighs, brining his face to yours and placing a gentle kiss on your lips.
Your arms loosen up and by the time he pulls away, both of you are smiling. "I'm glad you don't pick the legos over me" you try to keep up the act, but fail a little. "Maybe I can help you rebuild it?" you ask hopefully, watching as his face brightens.
Even if it took another hour rebuilding it, Jungwon didn't mind, he spent more time with you and his beloved legos.
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» Nishimura Riki «
You knew Riki was overworking himself in the studio, always trying to be perfect with his moves and never accepting mistakes. You scolded him so many times whenever he came home really late from the studio, but you only wanted what's best for him.
Today was another one of those days when he came back home way after dinner time. He sighed and rolled his eyes the second he stepped into your shared apartment.
There you were, arms crossed in your pj's, with a tired yet annoyed expression on your face. "Where have you been?" you asked already knowing the answer "Oh right, let me guess, at the studio"
He tries to ignore you, "I'm not in the mood to argue" he says under his breath, getting past you to go shower.
"No, but you promised you wouldn't stay in the studio late again!" you try to get your point across, not wanting this to happen again.
"Blah blah okayyy" he whines, completely ignoring your statement and getting his things for the shower.
"Riki!" you try to get his attention. He looks back at you and shouts back jokingly "Y/n!"
"You're literally ignoring me when I'm trying to care for your wellbeing" you reason, glaring at him. "I literally told yo-"
He shuts you up by pressing a quick kiss to your lips, making you melt under his touch as he places his hands on your hips. "I know and I'm sorry, I won't do it again okay? I appreciate you taking care of me but I'm really not in the mood for a scolding" he admits after pulling away.
You sigh and look up at his taller figure, nodding understandingly. "I know, I'm sorry Riki, I was just worried" you look down, feeling his hand beneath your chin. He lifts your chin up "Promise me you won't stay there late again?" you plead.
He smiles "Promise" he even steals a kiss too. "Don't sleep yet, I'll shower quickly" and he does, joining you in bed shortly, kissing you and cuddling you just to make it up to you.
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Thankyou for reading! I hope it was good :) Have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 months
Text
{ the song (I Just) Died In Your Arms came on at work today and then this happened. }
Warnings: aftermath of time loops, like years after, hurt/comfort, angst, allusion to sex and loss of virginity (its really more of a fade to black situation tho 👍🏻)
🍒🍒🍒
"Eddie?" Steve calls, dropping his bag and all his crap by the door, and toeing off his shoes.
"Kitchen! Rob's at Chrissy's tonight so I thought we'd do dinner and a movie?" Eddie's voice calls, and Steve can already smell something cooking. Hears the sizzle of a something as well, and the radio playing something, the sound just a low rumble in his ears.
"Sounds good. Watcha makin?" Steve calls, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch, he knows Eddie will grab it later and hang it by the door. He leaves it there anyway, smiling to himself at the thought as turns toward the kitchen.
"Oh just the ol Eddie Munson special. Gourmet grilled cheese. It soothes the- Steve? You okay?" Eddie's voice is quiet now, Steve's sure his eyes are wide too but he can't see them. Not really.
He's staring at the radio. The low murmur of music finally hitting him, stopping him in his tracks, his blood running cold, like icy fingers trailing down his back. That fucking song. He could kill whoever wrote it. Who needs a song about someone dying in their arms?
"Steve?" Eddie asks, again. Steve nods. Takes one step backwards. And then bolts for the bathroom.
He hits his knees hard, slaming down in front of the toilet, losing the small amount of food he'd had for lunch, his stomach heaving. He's shaking when he stands, his knees buckle twice on the short walk from the bathroom across the hall to his room. He shuts the door softly when he hears Eddie's footsteps coming.
"Steve? Are you okay?" His voice is small, and Steve can see him, with his long sleeves pulled down around his hands, worrying the material between his fingers as he shuffles from foot to foot outside Steve's door.
"I'm fine Ed's. Just, keep cooking. I'll be out in a few for the movie okay?" Steve calls, yanking his clothes off and grabbing one of Eddie's old t-shirts that he'd stolen maybe a year ago. Eddie had never asked for it back. And Steve liked the way he blushed when he saw Steve wearing it.
Eddie does, sort of. He goes back to the kitchen, turns everything off, and then walks back to Steve's room. He slides down the wall outside his door and sits on the floor. He can hear Steve moving around in there, just shuffling around his room doing god knows what.
He does this sometimes. Eddie never knows what to do. Or say. Or how to stop it. He tries. But Steve won't talk to him about it. Just ignores that it happens. Or talks to Robin. They share little looks, he sees them, never knows what they mean.
It makes him uncomfortable sometimes, like they're telling jokes behind his back. He knows they're not. That they wouldn't. But there's something. And until now, he's never asked, never pushed. Just sat back and worried and tried to ignore the feeling that he'd done something wrong.
"Steve?" He asks, voice low. He hears Steve stop moving.
"Yeah?" He calls, sounding suspicious, or nervous maybe, or like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.
"You know I'm not stupid right?" Eddie's chest burns, fire crawling up his throat, his eyes burning.
"I- what?" Steve answers, voice muffled, Eddie can almost see him standing in the middle of his room, staring at the door.
"I'm not stupid. I know something's wrong." He presses his finger to the floor, rubs at a knot in the wood, listens to Steve walk closer to the door.
"I told you I'm fine. Really it's-"
"Don't lie to me." Eddie cuts him off, doesn't yell, doesn't even raise his voice. He thinks he hears Steve gasp on the other side of the door. Can't be sure.
"Please just-" he closes his eyes, clears his throat, wills the tears away. He's so tired of crying about this.
"Just talk to me? I know- there's something you're not telling me." He hangs his head, worries at his shirt sleeves, his hands in his lap.
"It's been three years. And I thought it would stop ya know? Thought maybe I was imagining things. Or just, had to get used to the enigma that is YouAndRobin. But that's not it, is it?" He lets his head fall back and hit the wall.
"It's me. It's something I'm doing. Or like, multiple things? And I've tried to stop. Ya know? Tried to figure it out on my own cuz you guys clearly don't wanna share." He sighs.
"But I just keep fucking up. And then you guys give each other those looks, and lock yourselves away for hours, or fucking days, at a time. And I try so fucking hard not to do those things again." His voice is strained now, he clears his throat again, tucks his knees up under his chin and keeps talking, knows if he doesn't say it now he never will.
"But it's fucking impossible to figure out what I'm doing wrong if you won't talk to me Steve. I just- I feel like I'm hurting you somehow and you just- you just fucking sit there and take it and pretend it not happening when it really fucking clearly is! And it makes me feel insane!" He shoves his lips against his knee, tries to hide the whimper that claws its way out of his throat. He closes his eyes, tries to breathe, opens his mouth to speak again and hears the door open.
He looks up, watches Steve look forward and then down, finding Eddie on the floor, his own eyes shining like Eddie knows his are too.
"It's not you." Steve says, whispers really. And Eddie can't help the eyeroll. Or the huff. Looks away from Steve, drops his chin onto his knees and closes his eyes again, pushes the palms of his hands against his eyes.
"You're lying." He croaks, voice tight.
"I know you are. I just don't know why." And he hates it, that whine in his voice. And then Steve is on his knees, next to Eddie, his hands hovering near him as Eddie glares at him.
"I- I'm not. I promise I'm not. It's not you. It- it's complicated. I don't-" he sighs.
"Just say it! Just try!" Eddie's hands flail, his voice desperate as he looks at Steve. He stares for a moment, eyes wide, and then falls to sitting next to Eddie, his own knee tucked up to his chest, back resting against the door frame.
"I watched you die." Steve says, quiet. Eddie frowns.
"I know. And then you carried me out of hell and saved me. I know that. What are you-"
"No. Not- not that time." Steve shakes his head, grimaces when he looks at Eddie. He shakes his head, he doesn't understand.
"Before that. So many fucking times before that. Over and over. You died. No matter what I did. Or what I changed." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, shoved a knuckle into the corner of his eye. He let his head fall back as he looked at Eddie, his hands falling palms up on his thighs, helpless.
"You died. Over and over and over. And everytime. Every single fucking time. I ended up covered in your blood." He closes his eyes, opens them again. Says nothing else.
"I-" Eddie starts, stops, takes a deep breathe, moves one hand over his chest, resting his palm against the scar on his side, a nervous habit he has now. His fingers drum against the thick skin there.
"That's- you're talking about a time loop." Eddie says slowly, and Steve, he fucking laughs. There's no humor in it, just a bark, and a wry smile as he shakes his head at Eddie.
"What? You are, right? I mean that's- why are you smiling?" Eddie flails again, hugs his knees tighter. Steve just shakes his head again, bites his lip to hide a smile.
"Robin told me I should tell you. That you'd understand. Or like, get it. And I knew you would I guess, I just- couldn't." Steve sighs again, gives a little helpless shrug.
"Why not?" Eddie rests his chin on his knees, watching Steve. The tension he'd been holding in his shoulders for what seems like years seems to melt away.
"At first I was scared. That if I said something. It would start again. And then it just-" he takes a deep breath, smiles the saddest smile Eddie's ever seen and says,
"It just hurt too much." He shrugs again, a tear falling down his cheek. Eddie stares, watches his fall onto his shirt, watches it bleed into the fabric.
"Why did it hurt? Cuz of me? Cuz I keep reminding you of it somehow? Right? That's what all those little looks between you guys have been?" He wraps his arms around his legs tighter, his lip wobbling again. He knew he'd been fucking up.
Steve looks at him, brow furrowed, and reaches out, his hand warm when it curls around Eddie's bicep.
"I didn't know you noticed that. And I'm sorry. But no. It wasn't that. I mean maybe a little. Just small things. Like, deja vu, sometimes." He shrugged.
"But tonight it was the song. That stupid fucking song." He sighs, shakes his head and laughs again. The sound hollow in his chest.
"The... song." Eddie frowns, trying to think what song had been on when Steve came through the door. And oh, yeah.
"Oh. Kinda... right on the nose that one. Sorry. It was just on the tape I found. It wasn't even my tape. I think it was one of Dustin’s old ones." Steve squeezes his arm, heads him off before be starts really rambling.
"It's okay. You didn't know. You couldn't have. Cuz I didn't tell you. And I should have. I'm sorry." Steve bites his lip again. Eddie nods, sniffles, untangles his arms from around himself and scoots a little closer to Steve, their legs pressed together.
"Will you tell me now? All of it? Please? I need to know what happened. Kinda really wanna know how you saved me." He feels his cheeks burn, his ears too. He can't look at Steve. Not right now. Knows he'll see too much.
"I'll tell you. But not on the floor." He laughs again, a real one this time, and gets to his feet. He offers his hand to Eddie and pulls him to his feet. Their hands stay together, Eddie's cheeks burn with a fresh wave of color and Steve smiles, tugs him into his room, and tells him everything.
~°~
"A whole year?" Eddie's staring at the ceiling, knows he sounds breathless.
"Yep." Steve says, pops the P.
"And you spent it with me?" Eddie asks, sounds unconvinced.
"Yep."
"And we-"
"Yep." Steve huffs, turns onto his side and looks at Eddie.
"Hey. Look at me." Eddie swallows, isn't sure he can. He let's out a shakey breath and does it anyway.
"Hi." Steve says, smiling, his cheek squished against his arm curled under his head.
"Hi." Eddie echoes.
"You and me?" Eddie asks, his brow furrowed, his throat burning again.
"Yeah. I uh... I wasn't expecting it. Or maybe I was. I'm not sure anymore. But I'm glad it happened." Steve shrugs, reaches out, his finger brushing a curl away from Eddie's face.
"Why didn't you tell me? We could've- I mean I would've-" Eddie swallows, not sure what he would've. Steve smiles that sad smile again.
"Because I'm an idiot. I thought I had to like- let you make your own choices. Not- tell you what you did before. And you didn't remember. Because it- it didn't work, that time. I didn't-" he pauses, clears his throat, wipes at his eyes.
"I didn't save you that time. I lost you. And it- fuck it hurt Ed's. It hurt so much." His throat catches on a sob, his palms shoving into his eyes and Eddie can't take it anymore. He surges forward, wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close.
"I'm right here. I've been here. I'm not going anywhere." Eddie whispers, presses the words into Steve's hair as he clings to him.
"How many times after that one?" Eddie asks, his hand in Steve's hair, soothing.
"Two. I lost you two more times and then it worked. I woke up by your hospital bed instead of at my house. And you were there. Alive. And Robin was alive. And Dustin and Nancy. Everyone. More or less." Steve's voice is muffled, Eddie can feel his shirt getting wet from his tears.
"Steve I-" he takes a shakey breath.
"I don't know what to say." He sighs, keeps soothing his fingers over Steve's scalp. He pulls back, looks at Eddie, his face wet and blotchy.
"You don't have to say anything. I'm just glad you know now." He shakes his head, sniffles, drops his head back onto his pillow, eyes on Eddie.
"This um... this other Eddie. The one you spent a year with." Eddie draws.
"He wasn't 'another Eddie'. He was you. Just, before we really met." Steve snorts, rolls his eyes.
"Right. Right. So this Eddie you spent a year with." Eddie says, Steve fucking giggles and squeezes his eyes shut, nose all scrunched up. He opens his eyes, blinks a few times.
"What about him?" Steve asks, his teeth dragging over his lip as he smiles. Eddie shrugs, best he can laying on his side.
"Was he... I mean was he really like me?" Eddie asks, his voice sounding, doubtful. Steve hums, thinks for a moment.
"He was. And he wasn't." Steve shrugs too.
"That's very descriptive." Eddie says, voice flat. Steve laughs, rolls onto his back and then back to his side to look at Eddie.
"He was... different. Calmer. Less traumatized. At the beginning anyway. But he was still you. Still stubborn. And loyal. And kind." His shoulder twitches again.
"Was he nice to you? This other me?" Eddie asks, chewing on his lip, eyes locked on Steve's face. His cheeks flush and Eddie feels heat crawl over his skin.
"He was yeah. After awhile. He was... very nice." Steve's voice is soft, low, that little smile tugging at his mouth.
"Did he love you?" Eddie doesn't mean to say it. Not really. But he can't stop it. He has to know. Steve said they'd been together. But it was just a year. But a lot can happen in a year, Eddie knows all too well.
Steve eyes go soft at the question, a fondness in them that Eddie knows well, his stomach flutters at the realization.
"He said he did." Steve nods, scoots a little closer.
"And did-" Eddie swallows roughly, blinks a few times,
"Did you love him?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper. Steve nods, slow, his hair splaying against his pillow, his hand lifting to his mouth, teeth worrying at his thumb nail.
Eddie feels a breif spike of jealousy peak its head up and then feels ridiculous. And then he feels something else, something that blooms in his chest and wraps itself around his ribs warmly. Something he thinks might be hope.
"Do you-" he bites into his lip, hard. His hands shaking on the matress between he and Steve. Steve's hand moves away from his mouth, his knuckles brushing Eddie's before lacing their fingers together.
"Say it." Steve whispers, his eyes shining. He smiles at Eddie and Eddie can't not smile back. Can't not ask.
"Do you love me?" He hears his voice, hears how he clearly doesn't believe that. But Steve nods, a giddy smile on his face.
"You do? Why?" Eddie blurts, and Steve laughs, curls closer to Eddie, his hand cupping Eddie's cheek, thumb moving over his skin softly.
"I'm not sure I ever had a choice." Steve breathe between them.
"I think it was just always meant to be you." Steve moves his thumb over Eddie's lips, then up over his cheek again, wiping at the tear that runs over Eddie's skin.
"But he's not- I mean I'm not- we're not the same person. I don't remember it. I don't remember getting to have you. I did get to have you right?" Eddie asks, his chest shuddering as he tries to keep his breathing steady. Steve nods, crowds impossibly closer, his knee slotting between Eddie's own.
"You had me. You had me then and you have me now. And you are the same person. That's why me and Robin always give each other those looks. Because I told her everything. Anything I could remember. And you do things. Things that you did then. When you were mine." Steve smiles. Eddie laughs out a sob.
"When I was yours." He says, mocking, his voice wet and wobbly.
"Yeah. You were mine. Do you wanna be mine?" Steve's fingertips move over his face, like he's trying to memorize him.
"Pretty sure I've been yours since I woke up to you reading The Hobbit by my bed in the hospital." Eddie smiles, more tears falling.
"Dustin told me it would help." Steve shrugged again his thumb back on Eddie's lips. He nodded, closing his eyes to warmth of Steve's skin on his. 
"I wanna be yours." Eddie breathed, gasped when he felt Steve's thumb press into his lip.
"Yeah?" Steve was so close now, Eddie opened his eyes and he was right there, his nose almost touching Eddie.
"Please." Eddie wasn't sure what he was begging for, but he trusted Steve to give it to him.
"Yeah. Anything you want." Steve sighed, closing the space between them.
His lips hit Eddie's and his whole world tilts. Steve holds his head and kisses him sweetly and everything slams into him at once. Thoughts. Feelings. Memories. Memories that aren't his. Things he's never done. Not with Steve. Not with anyone.
But they crash into him, wash over him like a wave and blend into him like they're his. Things he said to Steve, the way he touched him, the way he loved him, during that year that never was. All of it filling him and becoming his. His and Steve's. Just another piece of their story, another peice of their love.
Eddie gasps, pulls back and finds Steve's eyes on him, wide, his brow furrowed.
"Did you?" Steve asks, his head tilting.
"I remember. Or... I saw it. I felt it. Or like, an echo of it. I love you." He laughs then, breathy and sweet, and Steve laughs back, nearly tackles him back onto the bed, arms curled around Eddie, face buried in his neck.
"I love you too." He sounds giddy. The way Eddie feels. He buries his hands in Steve's hair and pulls him up, so he can look at him. Steve comes willingly, looking down at Eddie with adoration.
"Our lives are so fuckin weird. You know that right?" Eddie asks, his nose scrunching. Steve snorts, bites his lip, and smiles.
"Oh yeah. But would you want it any other way?" Steve asks, his nose scrunching too.
"I'll take it whatever way lets me have you." Eddie says, his finger moving down the line of Steve's nose. He bites at Eddie's finger when he drops his hand on his chest.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to ask. And that you were stuck for so long. Back then." Eddie nods to the side, like that time in '86 is right beside them.
"I'm not. I learned a lot about loving you back then." Steve smiles down at him, pushes his bangs back off his head, Eddie leans into the touch.
"Oh yeah? Well I look forward to reaping the benefits." Eddie says, tongue poking into his cheek.
"Yeah? Well I look forward to taking your virginity. Again." Steve smirks down at him. Eddie squaks, tries to shove Steve off him and gets pinned to the bed instead.
"How dare you! I'm not even- that's- I mean... absolute hearsay!" Eddie stammers. Steve laces their fingers together and straddles him, leaning down over him, that smug look on his face.
"You trying to say you're not?" Steve asks, his tongue moving over his teeth.
"I- it's just- I mean that's not fair." Eddie squeaks, looking up at Steve with wide eyes.
"Seems fair to me. Like a really nice reward." Steve boasts, leaning closer and closer.
"It feels like cheating. Like not that kind of cheating. Just... I've never- done stuff. And you're just... you have. With me. That's not-"
"Hey. I'll take good care of you." Steve breathes, presses his lips to Eddie's genlty and pulls back, settles himself on Eddie's thighs.
"I know. I have the memory. But it's like... I dunno, like it's foggy. Like a dream. I can see it, in my head, but I can't feel it." Eddie sighs, looks away.
"Forget about it." Steve says.
"Oh okay. I'll just forget about the images I now have burned into my brain of you, naked, on top of me." Eddie scoffs, tries to take his hands from Steve's and fails, Steve squeezes his hands tighter.
"Why are you so strong?" Eddie kicks his feet, feigning attempts to break free. Steve laughs, lowers himself back into Eddie's face.
"You can hold tight to that new old memory. Or we can make some memories of our own. Pick one." Steve brushes his nose against Eddie's and smiles when Eddie bucks up into him.
"New memories. Absolutely. We should do that. Let's make new ones. We should do that right now." Eddie nods frantically, lifting up and trying to kiss Steve, both of them ending up sitting, Steve in Eddie's lap, finally letting his hands go to snake his arms around Eddie's neck.
"New memories. Got it." Steve kisses him, sweetly, pulls back, just a fraction of an inch.
"You've got shit memory anyway baby. I'll get rid of those in no time." He breathes the words into Eddie mouth like a promise. Eddie moans and grabs at his back, pulling him closer.
"Holy shit. Okay." He huffs, shivering as Steve presses him down onto the bed again, laughing against his lips.
"I'm gonna take this slow. Be real sweet to you." He peppers kisses across Eddie face.
"You're gonna fuckin torture me you mean?" Eddie whines, his hips jumping and stuttering everytime Steve rolls his down against him.
"Trust me. You'll love it." Steve whispers, his lips ghosting over Eddie's, teasing.
"I love you." Eddie says, both of them freezing. Steve just stays there, looking down at him, his eyes shimmering again. Eddie reaches up, wipes the tears away.
"I love you too." Steve breathes, his body dropping onto Eddie completely, tension leaving as he kisses Eddie, slow and deep, both of them moaning into each other's mouths.
Steve's true to his word. He takes Eddie apart slowly. And then puts him right back together. Three years of longing, and lost time, and impossible memories passing between them. A slow ebb and flow, like the tide, like the ocean and the moon, moving through them both, pulling them together after so long apart.
Steve falls asleep on his chest after, small sounds falling past his lips as he nuzzles into Eddie's skin. Eddie holds him there, one hand in Steve's hair, one moving slowly up and down his back.
He holds Steve close, watches him sleep, and thanks whoevers listening that he gets to have this. Have him. And thanks them again for bringing him through it all, all the monsters, and the time loops, and everything else. Just for him to end up in Eddie's arms.
Eddie's certain it's where he was meant to be all along.
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angelltheninth · 2 months
Text
Fang Maintenance Appointment
Pairing: Male!Monster x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, slightly suggestive, domestic fluff, teasing, fear of the dentist (yes really, this is dumb but it made me happy to think about)
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: This is so dumb, but the most mundane things are so much cooler when a big monster is involved.
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"You're being dramatic." You sighed for the nth time as you drove your boyfriend to his appointment. Rough, tough, big, snarling, protective and right now looking like a nervous kid, looking for some kind of exit strategy in the passenger seat. "Weren't you in a big battle or some shit?"
"Yes! But this is different, woman. This is..." He looked around, like there was someone in the car who could hear him, leaned in and whispered, "The dentist."
You quirked an eyebrow, biting your lower lip in an effort to hold back a laughter, "The dentist. Everyone goes to the dentist. It's no big deal, you'll see. Come on, a big, brave hunk like you? What are you so scared of?"
He leaned back into his seat, his huge hand tapping on the door, teeth clicking together nervously. Was it normal to find him adorable right now? Was there something wrong with you that you found the idea of your monster boyfriend being scared of something so normal being so cute?
"They're gonna have their hands and all kinds of stuff in my mouth. It's probably gonna taste bad too. What if they break my tooth? I like my teeth!"
"I like them too." You hoped you whispered but he chucked so he must have heard it, "Which is why you need to get this done. They're just gonna check. If everything's fine you won't have to get anything done." He mumbled to himself, arms crossing over muscular chest, "If you keep being a brat about this I'm gonna put a leash on you and drag you in there myself."
"Oh babe, so kinky. Don't get me going right before I need to see a doctor. It'd be such a waste of a bon-!" You stopped the car abruptly, causing him to groan as he flew forward, barely catching himself. "Are we... here?"
"Yup." You reached for his hand, yours always too small on his. "Hey. You'll be okay, just try to relax as much as you can. And if you can't... well they have things to calm down guys your..." Your eyes darted down his lap, "...size."
Stroking his ego seemed to be the best way to get him going, in more ways then one. He puffed and glowed with pride. With a little luck things would go well.... they did not. Not even 5 minutes into his appointment you heard him complaining, very loudly, almost roaring before his voice trailed off into a sleep mumble.
Better have him sleepy afterwards then him biting the doctor's hand off.
He walked out with a big, dopey grin on his face, "There she is. Look doc, that's my girlfriend! Ain't she a cutie? I told you she was!" His arms lifted you up but he stumbled backwards, the doctor and his assistant pushed him back on his feet before he could fall on the floor, "Whoops!"
"Is he okay?" You cupped his big cheeks, feeling him nuzzle into your touch.
"He will be after an hour or so. We had to give him the extra large dose." The dentist explained, his hand flexing.
"Heh. Extra large. Yeah I am!" Your boyfriend had no filter it seemed. "Hey babe, want to hear a dentist joke? I'm no dentist but I can give you a filling." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, his laughter low in his chest as you rolled your eyes at him. "My teeth are fine. Tusks and fangs in perfect condition. I can bite your thighs again."
"Okay! We're gonna go now, thank you, doctor, for everything." You pulled your boyfriend back to your car and after making sure you were alone you straddled his lap and kissed him. "I'll take that filling in a few hours when your meds wear off."
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velvetures · 9 months
Note
Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.
So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.
So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!
Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))
I Knew, Sweetheart
A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.
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John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.
Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.
Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.
You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.
A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.
John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.
At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.
Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.
God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.
Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.
Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.
“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.
“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”
He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”
Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.
He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”
You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.
John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.
“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.
You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.
“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.
“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.
“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.
Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.
“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.
“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.
“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.
“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.
He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.
“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”
“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”
“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”
His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.
John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.
In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.
“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.
Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.
Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.
“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.
“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.
“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.
“Give me hand, Captain?”
He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.
The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.
“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.
“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.
His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.
John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable
With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.
Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.
“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”
His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.
John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.
Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.
Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.
“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.
It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.
“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.
Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.
God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.
Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.
“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”
Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.
“Please, I want this. I want you John.”
Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.
“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.
“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.
Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.
“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.
Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.
Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.
Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.
“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.
You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.
“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.
You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.
He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.
Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.
Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.
“I love you, John. More than anything.”
He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“You’re my best friend.”
He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.
“You’re mine too.”
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yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.
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jellieland · 4 months
Text
"Well, that was fun!" says Jimmy.
"Oh, was it?" says Grian, grumpily. He's on top of the mountain, assessing the damage from Martyn's end crystal. It's blown up part of the bed shrine, which might actually be more of a loss than the twenty-two hearts of damage it did to him. "You did seem to be enjoying making me do completely ridiculous stuff, don't think I didn't notice that."
"It was pretty funny though," says Jimmy. "Remember when you got Cleo and Etho to spin in circles for no reason?"
"...Okay, that was pretty funny," Grian admits.
"Ooh, and when you got them to do the zombie dance," says Jimmy.
Grian shakes his head. "I can't believe no one said anything." He frowns at the place where the wolf spawner used to be.
"Yeah, pretty crazy right?" says Martyn.
Grian spins round and flinches back, letting out a shriek.
Martyn is leaning casually up against one of the trees, watching him. "Honestly Grian, I think maybe you need to reevaluate your life if Timmy controlling all your actions didn't set off any red flags with anyone," he says.
"You couldn't have let me know that was coming, Tim?" asks Grian, exasperated, staring up into the empty sky.
Jimmy is quiet for a moment longer than Grian expected. "Say hello to Martyn," he says.
"You know I don't have to do what you say anymore, right?" says Grian. "I'm fact, maybe I'll do the opposite of what you say."
"Hey, no!" cries Jimmy.
Martyn makes a quiet noise, and Grian's gaze snaps back to him. "Oh no, don't let me interrupt," he says airily.
Grian clears his throat. "...Hey, Martyn," he says awkwardly.
"Hello, Martyn," says Jimmy softly, as though Martyn will be able to hear him.
"Hello," says Martyn. He looks around, up into the sky. "Timmy still about, then?"
"Maybe," says Grian. "Why? I'm not about to pass notes for your tearful reunion, if that's what you're here for."
"Aww," says Jimmy. "Why not?"
"No," says Martyn. "You need to get rid of him."
"Hey!" cries Jimmy. "Wait, what-"
"Whatever this is," continues Martyn, "it needs to stop."
"It's not up to me," says Grian, narrowing his eyes. "I don't see what you're so upset about, though."
"You don't?" says Martyn, coolly. "Look at you. Like you're dragging his corpse around to parade before the entire server."
"I am not!" snaps Grian. "And frankly I resent the suggestion!"
"Oh yeah?" says Martyn. "What do you think you were doing, then?"
Grian glares at him. "A task!"
"Right, yeah, course." Martyn glares back. "And why'd you think the session was so calm, huh?"
Grian frowns, thrown off. "I- Wait, what?"
"What do you mean, what?" snaps Martyn. "You're the one who brought the canary back to haunt us!"
"Haunt me, you mean! And anyway, he didn't even die first this time, that was Lizzie."
"It's not just about dying first," says Martyn. "It's about what comes after. He dies, and then it all goes wrong. Everything falls apart."
"I don't know, dude, I'm doing alright." Grian shrugs.
"And then he comes back," continues Martyn pointedly, "and on a server full of reds and yellows, not a single person properly dies. You don't think that's weird?"
Grian considers, but not for long. "I don't know," He crosses his arms. "I think you're just twisting the narrative to suit what you think it should be."
"Oh, really?" Martyn scoffs. "And what does Jimmy think?"
Grian rolls his eyes. "Alright fine, Timmy, what do you think?"
There is silence.
"...Tim?" says Grian.
There is more silence.
"Well?" asks Martyn, eventually.
"I think he's gone," says Grian.
"Gone," says Martyn flatly.
"Yep," says Grian, suddenly nervous.
"Gone?" Martyn raises his voice. He looks up to glare at the clouds. "Are you serious?"
"Look," says Grian. "I don't know what you actually wanted to talk about, but-"
"Really? I had one person! One!" Martyn shouts at the sky. "And you took him, too? He was dead before! He was already dead, and then you gave him to someone else, and then you took him, again?!"
Grian shifts nervously. He's not entirely sure that Martyn's talking to him, but- "I didn't do it on purpose! It's a task, Martyn, come on! It's random chance!"
Martyn turns abruptly to look back at Grian. "It's not random." He says. His hand goes to his sword, and Grian suddenly feels rather unsafe. "It's not random. It's never random."
"Okay," says Grian, slowly inching back and away. That doesn't sound right, but it doesn't seem like the time to argue.
"You think this isn't planned?" snaps Martyn. "You think this isn't just more and more ways to mess with us? Over and over and over again?"
Grian think they mess with themselves pretty well already, but he isn't about to say that right now. He opens his mouth to respond, and-
"Grian?" Cleo's voice—oh, thank goodness. Cleo's voice carries up from the base below. "You alright up there?"
Martyn and Grian make eye contact.
"I'm good, Cleo! Could use some help, though, if you want to come up?" calls Grian.
"Kay, be there in a minute!" Cleo shouts.
Martyn narrows his eyes. "I'll see you at the end," he murmurs. "This won't last much longer."
"Probably not," Grian replies, just as quiet. "It never does."
Martyn turns to go.
Before he leaves, Grian sighs. "Jimmy told me to say hello," he says, some foolish sense of obligation forcing out the words.
Martyn pauses, but doesn't look back. After a moment, he vanishes into the trees.
Grian looks at the aftermath of the exploded end crystal. The broken shrine. The scars on his hands.
"It never does last," he says again. "Not when people do stuff like that."
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